********
TITLE: Adult Confidential
WRITER: Laragh
CHAPTER RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Willow, Tara and any other characters from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer franchise belong to Joss Whedon, FOX, ME and a whole host of other entities, none of which are me.
SUMMARY: They’ve graduated, now they’re faced with the big, bad world of adulthood…the second part in the prequel series of
Hacker Confidential and
Family Confidential (and follow-up to
College Confidential)
SPOILERS: Perhaps minor references to the show or stealage of dialogue, but nothing that would spoil the series.
FEEDBACK: Yes please
Chapter 9 ********
Willow came back from the kitchen carrying two glasses of wine.
“I didn’t think I’d be this anxious, but I can barely stand it.”
“I know, me too,” Tara agreed, taking the glass offered to her then looking curiously at Willow as she sat down next to her on the couch, “Are you drinking wine?”
Willow clinked her small glass against Tara’s. Her glass was only half full, a little more than a mouthful or two, and the first she'd had since their very first night in the apartment, but she was trying for more mature tastes.
“I’m hoping tonight is the start of new things, so I'm starting as I mean to go on.”
Tara held up her glass in a salute.
“Here, here.”
They both took a sip and moved together again to cuddle. Tara tucked herself under Willow's arm.
“I haven’t felt this sick since I had that stomach flu.”
Willow shuddered.
“Four days I’d rather forget!”
Tara wasn’t keen on reliving it either.
“Don’t worry, it’s just butterflies this time…bat-shaped ones. Look, I’m keeping down liquids and everything.”
She swilled her wine with a wicked smirk, which Willow could only grin at.
Their eyes returned to the TV screen, where they stayed glued as they watched the news anchors and scrolling news bar. They were mostly silent and watching the events play out, until finally they heard the words they’d been waiting to hear all night.
“Barack Obama is projected to be the next president of the United States of America.”
Willow startled and nearly dropped her, thankfully empty, wine glass.
“Oh my god.”
“He won?” Tara asked, shocked and awed, “He actually won.”
“He won!” Willow shrieked, throwing her arms up, then around Tara.
She kissed the top of Tara’s head, who started to laugh with joy. They shared a celebratory kiss, which began to linger. Willow held Tara's face softly in her hands.
“This is the start of a new America…I feel it.”
“We can tell our grandchildren we voted for him,” Tara replied, smiling from ear to ear, “That we shared this historic moment.”
Willow nodded.
“Proudly so.”
They hugged again and were settling back to wait for the victory speech when there was a sudden knocking at the door.
Willow glanced towards it.
“Who the hell is that this late?”
Tara looked pained.
“If it’s the guy from across the hall, just say we’re already sleeping.”
Willow set the speech to record and made her way over to the door to answer it.
“I don’t want him thinking about us doing anything in bed, even sleeping. I'll say we're on our way out to a celebratory party. An exclusive one.”
She opened the door warily, but instead of being greeted by their greasy neighbour’s leer, Becky was crumbled against the doorframe, blubbering and with red eyes.
“Whoa,” Willow commented, eyes widening, “Becky, what’s wrong?”
Tara looked over and quickly left her wine glass down on the coffee table. She jumped up and took over, guiding Becky inside. She brought her over to couch and indicated for Willow to get a glass of water. While Willow was fetching with it, Becky grabbed Tara’s three-quarters full glass of wine and downed it in one go.
Willow scrunched her nose but didn’t say anything and sat on Becky’s other side, leaving the water nearby for her to drink if she wanted. Before Willow could ask what was wrong, Becky’s head dropped into her hands and she began to sob even louder.
“J-Jack and I broke up.”
Willow and Tara both immediately put a hand on her back, one over the other. They rubbed in opposite directions.
“I’m so sorry Becky,” Tara soothed.
Becky continued to cry and Tara went off to get her some tissues.
Becky wiped herself up and slowed to sniffling, though her eyes remained creased and full of hurt.
“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Willow prompted gently.
Becky tried several times to take in a full breath before breaking down again.
“Th-the big idiot proposed!”
“Eek,” Willow replied, while Tara nodded sympathetically.
“You weren’t expecting that.”
Becky swiped her tissue under her nose angrily.
“We were out for dinner and he was jumpy all night. I thought he was freaking out about the election! Then he just whips this ring out, in front of everybody.”
Her fists clenched and released, fingers splaying in a gesture of disbelief.
“What was he thinking?!”
“Have you ever told him you don’t want to get married?” Willow broached cautiously, “I mean, just… you told me you told him you wanted to be together forever…maybe he thought this was what you wanted.”
Becky’s face strained.
“Well…I told him tonight!” she spat, suddenly standing to pace, “He opened Pandora's Box and now we can't close it again. He suddenly starts gushing on about being a family and having kids…not right now, he says. Not ever, I say!”
Her jaw released its clench and her eyes crumbled all over again.
“He says he wants what his parents had. I said I
don’t want what my parents had.”
She flopped back into her seat, elbows on knees and chin on her fists. Tara rubbed Becky's shoulder and top of her back, just offering whatever physical comfort she could.
“Oh Becky…”
Tara’s motherly energy broke the last bit of resolve in Becky and she started to sob.
“I-I didn’t know where to go…”
“You came to the right place,” Tara reassured.
Willow nodded.
“Yeah, you can stay with us as long as you need to,” she said, then made a motion towards the couch opposite, “Seriously, the couch pulls out and we’re happy to have you.”
Becky leaned in against Willow, then over to Tara.
“Thank you guys. I just…I can’t believe…I love him so much! What is
wrong with him?!”
She broke down again and became unintelligible with her sobbing. She wore through a whole box of tissues and the rest of the bottle of wine, pouring and drinking entire glasses in one gulp when she came up for air.
Eventually she just curled up into a sad ball with her head in Tara’s lap. Tara nodded for Willow to make up the sofa bed. Willow made a face, then grudgingly went to do it. Tara stroked Becky’s hair and guided her over to the bed when she was ready, taking off her shoes and tucking her in.
“It’ll be okay,” she said softly as she settled the blanket.
Becky stared ahead despondently.
“How can it be okay? He’s my whole world. My world is…gone.”
Tara rubbed Becky’s arm and kissed her forehead affectionately. She waited until Becky quietened and said her goodnights, then went into the bathroom to wash her face. She sighed, feeling Becky’s sadness.
It was her worst nightmare that she’d find hers and Willow’s relationship ripped from under her.
She patted her face dry and brushed her teeth before walking into the bedroom where Willow was sitting on the bed in her pyjamas, checking her phone.
“I got a text from Jack. Just asking if she’s here.”
“Just say yes she’s safe,” Tara replied as she took out her own sleeping clothes, “Don’t get involved past that – it’s best for everyone.”
Willow nodded and quickly sent the response then laid down and sighed deeply.
“Phew. What a mess.”
Tara sat on the corner of the mattress as she changed.
“Poor Becky. She really loves him.”
Willow held up her hands in exasperation of the whole situation.
“And he really loves her…it seems so…heart breaking that loving her
too much is their downfall.”
Tara slid in beside Willow and turned on her side to face her.
“I don’t think that’s fair. Becky’s love shouldn’t be called into question because she doesn’t want to get married. It’s a fair choice for someone to make, and if they’re at ends about it, then it was never going to work.”
“But she’s just running scared because of her parents’ shitty attitudes towards marriage,” Willow argued, “She’s going to give up the best relationship she’s ever been in for it. I kinda want to slap her.”
“Willow,” Tara warned gently, “She’s so sure of her own convictions that she’s willing to let him go so that they can both be happy. Do you honestly think one of them acquiescing on an issue this big wouldn’t lead to extreme resentment? That’s not even getting into the kids part. Becky doesn't want them, Jack does. Jack deserves the life he wants and Becky deserves the life she wants. But yes, it is so, so sad that on this subject they’re at odds. Unfortunately it’s one of the only things in a relationship you can’t compromise on.”
Willow’s eyes gently creased. She knew Tara was right, as much as she'd like some perspective to make Becky change her mind. But perspective was only helpful if it didn't harm you in the process.
She sighed again, then she reached out to touch Tara’s cheek.
“Just checking in…we still on the same page with this stuff?”
Tara turned her head in to kiss Willow’s palm.
“I’ll say yes the second you propose.”
“How come I have to do the asking?” Willow asked with a small grin.
“Because you told me once when you were a little girl you dreamed of proposing to your princess,” Tara answered, matching her smile.
Willow leaned in and kissed Tara softly.
“Good answer, princess.”
They nuzzled noses and Willow felt extremely grateful to have Tara there to confide in and de-stress with.
“Some night, huh? Half the country is celebrating; half are raging…and Becky’s sleeping on our couch just about desolate.”
Tara nudged Willow’s cheek with her nose.
“Go lie with her.”
“Huh?” Willow asked, confused.
“She needs you,” Tara replied, “She feels all alone. Go lie with her.”
Willow didn’t want to leave Tara’s cosy embrace but she didn’t want to be selfish either.
“…okay.”
She gave Tara a last, lingering kiss and went back out to the living space, knocking the light in the lamp on as she passed. She quietly laid down on the sofa bed behind Becky and semi-spooned her.
Becky just sniffled.
“Tara will miss you.”
Willow delicately brushed her fingertips against Becky’s arm.
“She sent me out here.”
Becky cast a hint of a smile into the darkness.
“‘Course she did.”
There was silence for a few moments until Becky turned on her other side so she was facing Willow. She put one hand on top of the other on the pillow and leaned her head on them.
“I keep asking myself if I could do it. If I could be his wife,” she said, her mouth staying open as if trying to conjure the words, “I can’t. I just can’t. It’s not just that I don’t want to, I
can’t. It's not in me. It's like asking you to never pick up a computer again. It goes against everything that's in you.”
“You’re allowed to feel that,” Willow reassured gently, “Look, Tara wants to be a mother some day and it’s something, like you said, that’s just in her. It’s deep-down, innate. Part of her core being. If I couldn’t be her co-parent, I’d have to let her go too. It’s too important. One or both of us would end up bitter, not to mention if a child did get involved. It's not fair to anyone, even though it fucking sucks.”
Becky shook her head into the pillow angrily.
“It does fucking suck,” she said with clenched teeth, “Why did he have to do it now? We could have gone another year, or more without this coming up. Been happy. We were happy.”
Willow sighed.
“It wouldn't be fair,” she repeated.
“Why not?” Becky asked in a distressed tone, “We’re young. So maybe it wouldn’t have been forever…but it could’ve been for a chunk of it. It didn’t have to end so soon.”
Willow didn’t have the answer but her logical brain sought them out anyway.
“Well, from your conversation it sounds like he was at this point and you're not. It’s a crossroads. It’s a super sucky shitty crossroads, but you’re just going in different directions. It’s better to go now with the good memories than wait until it turns sour.”
Becky wiped her nose on the pillow and Willow made a mental note to wash it. Becky heart felt constricted and she brought a hand up to brush away tears falling from her eyes.
“Do you think Tara will make out with me to make me feel better?” she deflected with her usual humour, although through a shaken voice.
Willow’s lips quirked upwards just for a second.
She knew in that moment that no matter how many days, weeks or months it took for Becky to get over Jack; that she would come out the other side as the strong woman Willow had always known.
“No way. She likes calling me her one and only too much.”
“For kissing?” Becky asked, the surprise quelling the tears, “You’re the only person she’s
kissed?”
Willow nodded.
“Yeah.”
“How do you know if you’re objectively a good kisser if she has no one to compare it to?” Becky questioned, almost challengingly.
Willow shrugged one shoulder.
“I don’t care about objectivity, I care about Tarativity. It only matters if I’m a good kisser to her.”
“Doesn’t it scare you to think she’ll be the only person you’ve been with your whole life?” Becky asked, genuinely instead of her normal tease.
“It thrills me,” Willow replied, her eyes flashing with that passion for a moment, “Quality is better than quantity.”
Becky recognised that passion as one that was burning out in herself.
“I really let myself fall this time. I let myself believe I might have a forever.”
“You will have a forever,” Willow replied surely, “With someone who wants the same one as you. I believe in you.”
Becky looked down forlornly.
“I forgot what it’s like to be alone.”
Willow put her arms around Becky and pulled her into a hug.
“You’re not alone.”
Becky started to cry again into Willow’s shoulder; silent, sorrowful sobs.
Willow just stayed there to be a comfort, ready to live up to her promise and make sure her friend felt as little loneliness as possible.
Tara wandered towards the kitchen from the bedroom, stifling a yawn along the way.
She’d barely woken up, straight into one of those mornings that just demanded a coffee. She’d come from bed as she was, in a tank top and underwear and had small goosebumps on her legs from the chill in the air. She wouldn’t get away with such flimsy pjs as the winter advanced but she liked to rub her legs against Willow’s as they slept.
She was ready to turn into the kitchen when a voice cracked from a few feet away.
“Nice panties.”
Tara nearly leapt out of her skin and flung her head around to see Becky sitting up on the sofa bed with a grin on her face. In her dozy state Tara had completely forgotten about their houseguest, even after having her for the few days since 'that night'.
She squealed and reached for the nearest thing – the empty coffee pot – to hide the front of her underwear and pulled at the hem of her tank to stay as modest as possible.
After a moment, Willow came toddling out in her robe, rubbing her eyes and confused.
“What’s going on?”
“I was admiring Tara’s panties,” Becky replied casually, “Hey ‘foxy’ lady.”
Tara turned crimson in reference to the lettering across her ass and kept her gaze anywhere but on either of their faces.
Willow took a moment, but finally realised from Tara’s crouching position what was going on. She grabbed a sweatshirt hanging over a chair and rushed over with it for her.
Tara wrapped it around herself and made a beeline for the bedroom again, slamming the door behind her. Willow cast Becky a long glare, who held her hands up defensively.
“What? They were cute.”
Willow grumbled but didn’t chastise her any more. Becky had ended up taking sick days to cover the rest of the week as she slumped into her post break-up depression and those few minutes were the most jovial Willow had seen her since.
“Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; give a Becky an opportunity to tease and she won’t let you forget it for the rest of your life!” she retorted instead as she took the coffee pot that had been shoved into her hands and began to fill it, “I would ask you to quit it, but I’ve been asking that for as long as I’ve known you.”
Becky came over, holding the pizza box from the night before and eating one of the leftover slices.
“‘on’t ‘ate the play-yer, ‘ate the game,” she said, before swallowing, “I still haven't told her I saw her ass, I get credit for that. You can't expect me to pass up every 'foxy' opportunity that's presented to me.”
Willow cast Becky a withering sidelong glance, then got down three cups and poured the coffee into each.
“You sleep well?” she asked, briefly eyeing Becky’s demeanour.
Becky shrugged a shoulder.
“Yeah, actually,” she said, leaving the box down on the countertop and lifting herself up to sit beside it, “First night I didn’t wake up trying to cuddle him.”
Willow added the cream and sugar for Becky and herself and left Tara to add her own. She gave Becky a cup and leaned back against the cabinets.
“That’s something.”
“Yeah…” Becky replied, then sighed, “Except then I woke up to this.”
She produced her phone from her pocket and held it out to Willow. Willow read the screen, a text from Jack saying her things were packed and ready for her to collect.
Willow looked at Becky sympathetically.
“Guess he’s stopped with the begging and pleading texts then.”
Becky slumped on the spot.
“That’s it. He’s accepted it. All my stuff will be gone and we will be officially, 100% broken up.”
Willow reached out for a comforting arm rub, the best she could offer. There were little more words she could say that hadn’t been said.
Becky stared at the text, then hid her phone away.
“I can’t do it.”
“All your stuff, Beck,” Willow replied, confused.
“I’ll get new stuff,” Becky replied flippantly, then looked at Willow vulnerably, “I can’t see his face. I’ll die. I’ll just die.”
Willow squeezed her hand on Becky’s arm.
“Do you want us to go?”
“Go where?” Tara’s voice popped up as she came into the kitchen, fully dressed and clearly intending to pretend nothing had happened.
“To collect Becky’s things,” Willow replied, nodding to Tara’s coffee to show her it was hers, “If she wants us to.”
“Would you?” Becky asked, slightly helpless.
“Of course,” Willow replied surely, “Won’t we baby?”
Tara held her mug between two hands and inhaled the steam softly.
“Yes, of course.”
“Thanks guys,” Becky replied genuinely, although flatly at the morose thoughts that continued to plague her mind.
“You gonna wash your hair today?” Willow asked delicately.
Becky twirled the ends of her wild mane between two fingers. She knew she’d probably built up a funk it showed Willow and Tara’s kindness that they hadn't mentioned it.
“Guess it could use a shampooing.”
“It’ll make you feel better to get up and get dressed,” Tara encouraged, “We can all go for a picnic in the afternoon. It's cold but the sun is out. Nothing some hot coffee in our hands won't fix.”
Becky was truly touched by the support she’d been offered by her friends. She offered a weak, but not unforced smile and jumped down from the counter to head into the bathroom.
She stopped by the linen closet to get the towel Tara had told her was there days ago. On top, was her freshly laundered clothes from the night she’d first come to them, as well as various spares from both Willow’s and Tara’s closet that were deemed to fit her.
She smiled at the gesture and grabbed a pair of jeans from Willow’s collection and plain blouse from Tara’s. She was grateful she hadn’t been forced into wearing a fuzzy sweater or multi-coloured skirt and especially not to have to get back into that special dress she'd bought for the night that had changed everything.
She was quiet as she came back into the living after showering, leaving pyjamas she'd borrowed folded on the arm of the couch to wear again that night She glanced into the kitchen and saw Willow, now dressed, trying to reach into a top cabinet with Tara standing beside her.
“Where is it?” Willow asked, her hand patting along a top shelf.
“Up there,” Tara replied, pointing at the same spot.
Willow retracted her arm.
“I can’t reach.”
“Keep trying,” Tara encouraged.
Willow stepped onto her tiptoes and while she was peering into the cabinet, Tara snuck a hand around and grabbed her ass.
Becky’s eyebrows momentarily shot up. That was a side to Tara she’d never seen. She had to grin though, her suspicions of Tara being a bit of a wildcat were proving true the longer she got to know her.
Willow finally reached the flour and brought it down. Tara took it off her and turned to a bowl she already had out. She spotted Becky over the breakfast bar.
“Becky, do you want pancakes?”
“Tara makes the best pancakes,” Willow added as she handed Tara eggs and milk from the fridge.
“Sure, thanks,” Becky replied with a nod, “I haven’t had pancakes since I was a kid.”
She started to fold away her sofa bed and Willow came over to help with the lug. Tara whipped up her batter and got the skillet warming on the burner.
“Funny shapes or rounds?”
“Rounds,” Willow answered, “I’m in the mood to roll.”
Tara made a stack of round pancakes while Willow set the table with silverware, butter and maple syrup. Tara served up a big plate of the pancakes and everyone sat down to eat.
“Wow, these are good,” Becky complimented as she cut a square and dipped in a pool of syrup, “Thanks Tara.”
“You’re welcome,” Tara replied modestly.
Willow was gulping down her pancakes but eventually came up for a glug of orange juice.
“So can I drive your car over?” she asked Becky, who recoiled in horror at the thought of anyone else behind the wheel of her baby.
“No!”
“We can’t carry all your stuff on the T!” Willow protested.
“I’ll pay for cabs,” Becky mumbled, going into a sulk.
Willow started to roll her eyes, but stopped halfway when Tara put a hand on her knee and gave her a look. Willow nodded to say she got it.
“That’s fine, Beck. No problem.”
They ate in silence and Becky offered, or rather quite demanded to do the dishes. Tara understood it gave her something to do and just thanked her quietly. Willow patted her on the back and then she and Tara went off to gather their things and set off for what was now just Jack’s apartment.
“Let’s walk,” Tara suggested, even though Becky had offered enough cash to get them there and back, “Save her some bucks.”
Willow had been ready to hail a cab and dropped her hand guiltily.
“You’re a good person,” she said, slipping that hand into Tara’s, “Better one than me.”
Tara swooped in with a cheek kiss.
“That’s not true. You’re the best person I know.”
Willow blushed and smiled, then swung Tara’s hand.
“It’s nice to be couple-y. Been trying to pull back on it so we’re not shoving it in Becky’s face.”
“I know, I’ve felt a bit awkward about it all,” Tara replied, “At least she got dressed today and hopefully she’ll come out with us later.”
“You’re so sweet to suggest a picnic,” Willow said, smiling adoringly, “We should get all her favourites. Steak and cheese sub, Reese's Pieces, sweet tea.”
Tara lifted an eyebrow.
“Those sound like all your favourites. Add Cheetos and it’s a bingo.”
“She does love Cheetos,” Willow replied with a grin, “Hey, we bonded over a love for junk food and books and I already loaned her my kindle. It’s cliché, but it works.”
They arrived at the building a little under twenty minutes later and both felt a sadness as the elevator climbed to the seventh floor. Tara stepped out first and offered her hand to Willow, who gratefully took it and squeezed.
They knocked on the right door and there were footsteps on the other side, then silence. Willow looked at Tara, then the door and was about to knock again, when it opened.
Jack looked worn out, his eyes creased in sorrow and his mouth thin with worry. He looked dejected when he saw who was there.
“She couldn’t face me herself?”
“She’s doing her best,” Willow replied evenly.
Jack just withered away and left the door open.
“Her stuff is in the bedroom.”
Willow went right in there, while Tara closed the door again behind them. She hesitated about where to go for a moment, then her nurturing instinct brought her over to Jack, who was in the kitchen area with his palms on the counter and head hanging down.
Tara put a comforting hand on his back and it only took him a second to crumble. He immediately turned away and made clumsy wipes at his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Tara.”
“You don’t need to apologise,” Tara replied softly, “It’s a very upsetting situation.”
Jack shook his head, his brow wrinkling into the permanent crease that had been there since Becky walked out.
“I really thought we would be celebrating our engagement. I never knew she was so bitter.”
Tara grimaced at that; she was glad neither Becky nor Willow had heard it.
“It’s not a bitterness, it’s just…how it is. It’s not an arrangement that she wants to be in.”
Jack folded his arms across his chest, tightly.
“Well maybe it could not be for me either. I mean, it’s just a piece of paper, isn’t it? She’s more important than a piece of paper. I don’t need it. I don’t need a wife and…kids aren't that important.”
Tara rubbed his arm.
“I don’t think you believe that.”
Jack’s eyes grew glassy again.
“How can the right thing be us apart?”
“Because of all you’ve gained by being together,” Tara replied, trying to impart some kind of support, “With these circumstances, there was always going to be an end…but that doesn’t have to take away from everything you had.”
Jack wiped at his eyes and again turned away.
“I’m sorry,” he echoed again, out of ways to reason himself out of the break-up.
“Have you got friends you can call?” Tara asked, not sure she could, in good conscience, leave him like this.
Jack nodded, chin going right into his chest.
“The guys are coming over later for the football game.”
Tara nodded back, glad he would have his pals around.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. She didn’t do anything wrong. This is just how it is,” she comforted, “I told her I wouldn’t say anything, but you know what she said amidst all the crying?”
Jack met her eye and waited for her to respond.
“He’ll be the best husband and father to somebody…but that somebody just can’t be me.”
“She said that?” Jack asked with an obvious lump in his throat.
“Yes,” Willow’s voice came from the bedroom doorway as she carried out two suitcases, then she glanced to Tara, “And I won’t tell you told.”
Tara slinked away, sensing she’d said enough. Jack carried himself a little easier and his posture moved from slumped to straightened.
“Tell Rebecca I said…” he started, then took a moment to keep his voice steady, “Tell her I said ‘Go-saeng Ggeut-eh naki eun-da’.
Willow blinked several times.
“Um, one more time?”
“I got it,” Tara interjected, picking up a medium sized box with a smaller box on top in her arms, “Good luck, Jack.”
“Bye, Jack,” Willow added, carrying the suitcases out of the door she’d opened, then pulling it closed again once Tara was out too.
There was a slightly hollow echoing goodbye as the door closed and Willow had to tense and release some muscles to get the tension in the air out of her body.
“Damn,” she said, blowing out a long puff of air, “You got that gobbledegook?”
“It’s obviously Korean,” Tara replied, taking in even breaths to calm the empathetic sorrow she felt, “I’m always liked foreign languages. I hear it lyrically in my mind, so it’s easy to remember.”
They walked into the elevator and Willow pressed the button for the lobby. They were both silent until about the second floor when Willow spoke up.
“He was really cut up.”
“Wouldn’t you be?” Tara asking, looking sideways at Willow.
Willow momentarily leaned her head against Tara’s shoulder.
“Unhealable.”
Tara leaned her head down to touch Willow’s, then turned in to kiss her parting. The elevator doors sprung open and they carried everything onto the curb to hail a cab.
It was a short, silent ride home, though they both held hands and didn’t break until they absolutely had to, to carry everything upstairs.
Willow cursed Becky’s name as she lugged her clothes up the stairs and Tara sneakily trailed behind to check out Willow’s ass. She felt awful about everything, but that wiggle could cure the toughest of emotional turmoil.
Becky had heard the heavy footsteps, so had the door open and waiting for them, though she looked fretful.
“It went okay?” she asked, searching both of their faces for immediate answers as they passed through.
Willow nodded.
“Yeah, we got everything.”
Becky closed the door behind them and leaned back against it. Her palms pressed together in front of her, then slipped away from sweat.
“How was he?”
Willow set down the suitcases, put her hands on her hips and nodded once.
“I think that… he’s gonna be okay.”
A flurry of emotions passed Becky’s face, but it finally settled on relief.
“Good. Good. That's…good.”
“He said to say something,” Willow replied, then looked to Tara to continue, “Uh…”
Tara listened to the lyric she’d made in her head, then turned in back into regular speech.
“Go-saeng Ggeut-eh naki eun-da.”
Becky floated over to the sofa and sat crossed-legged on it, holding a cushion to her chest.
She finally smiled.
“It’s something his mom says. It means ‘at the end of hardship comes happiness’,” she said, her eyes cast back in happy memories for a moment before she sat back and sighed, “Damn, I’m gonna miss her kimchi. They celebrate Canadian thanksgiving because of his Dad, but we were going to spend the long weekend with them anyway.”
“You can have Thanksgiving with us,” Willow said, sitting in beside her while Tara sandwiched her on the other side.
“Thanks guys,” Becky replied, squeezing the cushion closer to her, “Guess I have to figure out a whole new life now.”
“You gonna go back to work on Monday?” Willow asked.
Becky nodded.
“Yeah. Have to start facing up to the world.”
Her lip started to tremble and eyes glassed over.
“Have to face up to life without him.”
She pressed her face down into the pillow and started to cry silently. Both Tara and Willow wrapped arms around her and offered comfort.
Becky cried and cried, letting out the emotion until she started to break through with laughter, growing more and more hysterical.
Both Willow and Tara shared concerned looks, but Becky finally came up for breath, grinning from ear to ear.
“I-I…I just realised…I just realised…that…that… ”
Becky clutched her stomach to speak through the laughter.
“If we’d gotten married…my name would have been Becky Boop!”
She threw her head back and laughed raucously, making Willow giggle and even Tara titter a tad. Becky threw an arm around each of them and pulled them in close to her, feeling her spirits at their highest in days.
It wasn't the end of the road, but she wasn't walking it alone.
“With friends like you…I think I might just be okay too.”
by zampsa19752001 » Wed Sep 23, 2015 10:58 am 
). I probably overuse them, but oh well, they amuse me and I'm not exactly aiming for a Pulitzer Prize.
So I admit defeat and edit the dibs out.
I'm glad Becky didn't walk in on this... 
(I know I didn't dibs, but the whip fits the context, so I'm not ashamed to use it! 
