---

---

Tara tapped the wheel to the beat of the song playing through the car stereo.


She glanced over at Willow and smiled softly.


“Suddenly someone is there at the turnstile…the girl with kaleidoscope eyes…”


She lifted one hand and gestured for Willow and Sally, in the back, to join in to sing the next line together.


“Lucy in the sky with diamonds! Lucy in the sky with diamonds!”


From the back seat, Sally spoke over the next verse.


“Who is Lucy, and how did she get up into the sky? And why bring her diamonds? If I was going up into the sky, I’d bring my Switch or a sandwich or something.”


“I’d bring a sweater!” Willow piped up with a grin, “Probably wouldn’t stave off the hypothermia, but at least I wouldn’t be so exposed. And fashionable!”


Sally barked out a laugh, making Willow scowl. Tara lifted her hand briefly to squeeze Willow’s shoulder as she looked back in the mirror.


“I don’t think she brought diamonds, sweetie. I think the diamonds were already in the sky.”


“I think it’s a song about getting high and nothing makes sense anyway,” Willow retorted, though very much under her breath.


Tara squeezed a little harder. Willow cleared her throat. Triumphantly from the back, Sally piped up again.


“Did you know if you got high enough,” she started, making both Willow and Tara exchange alarmed looks, “With no space suit or anything, your blood would boil in your body?”


Willow glanced sidelong to Tara, both of them relieved.


“It’s true. Your saliva and tears would go first, but eventually, yep. You become your very own boil-in-the-bag except instead of rice it’s, you know, organs.”


“Gross,” Sally replied, but was grinning from ear to ear.


Tara blinked heavily.


“Well then, I’d bring a telescope so I could look down at my girls,” she tried to steer them back to something resembling pleasant, “And make sure they were the last thing I saw before I became a pre-prepared side dish to whatever alien was passing by.”


Both Willow and Sally emitted the same laugh, which could only be described as an I-love-Tara laugh.


“This is a weird song though,” Sally pressed on, “What are newspaper taxis? It doesn’t make any sense.”


Tara exchanged a knowing look with Willow before answering.


“It doesn’t have to. Sometimes there’s meaning in the unmeaningful.”


Sally’s brow furrowed.


“How?”


“Let’s make up a nonsense song right now. It’ll be fun!” Tara replied and started to hum a little tune, “Through a garden made of jellybeans, where the skies are pink and the ground is green…”


She looked at Willow expectantly, who started stumbling wordlessly.


“I…saw a…goat…in a…bowtie?” she eventually stuttered out, and Tara just smiled kindly and caught Sally’s eye in the mirror.


“Riding a rainbow as it passed by,” Sally sang back easily.


“See?” Tara grinned, “Total nonsense, but now we all have a very funny image in our heads. Doesn’t that mean something?”


Several horns beeped in the traffic outside.


“Even the city of Los Angeles agrees with us.”


There was another shared laugh, and Willow reached over to tickle under Tara’s ear affectionately. Tara giggled in surprise and accidentally put her foot on the gas for a moment, though she recovered quickly as she was right in front of a stoplight.


Tara’s grip tightened on the wheel when a honk blared outside. Her smile dimmed slightly, and Willow glanced at her like ‘you okay?’ but Tara didn’t have time to respond. The swift movement made something roll out from under the seat in the back, which Sally eagerly picked up.


“Ooh, a Skittle!”


The word reverberated in Tara’s brain like a car skidding around a corner.


Time slowed.


Her vision narrowed, her breath caught, and panic slammed into her chest like a truck.


“Sally, don’t!”


With gasping breaths, she tried to twist in her seat, but the belt strangled her. Willow acted quickly, grabbing the small candy from Sally.


“It’s an actual Skittle,” she waved it at Tara, then bit it between her teeth to demonstrate, adding a grimace, “An old one.”


Willow could feel Tara’s palpable stress and Sally’s utter confusion. She looked into the back seat first.


“Don’t want you eating off the floor, kiddo,” she said calmly, “We’ll be home in less than five minutes. I’m pretty sure I have some Skittles in my candy stash. You can have some, okay?”


Sally’s eyes were guarded, but she just nodded once. Willow faced forward again and put her hand gently over Tara’s.


“Tara, the light will go green in a few seconds,” she said, quiet enough to just be between them, “Are you okay to get us home? If you need me to tag in, we need to switch right now.”


Tara barely heard her above the sound of her own heartbeat, but she did listen to her.


She got her hands back on the wheel, held on for dear life, and drove on as soon as the light changed.


The mood had shifted, and the rest of the, thankfully short, journey home was tense. Tara went straight to the apartment, so Willow followed her in with Sally, who held her backpack unsurely on one shoulder and was carrying Miss Kitty’s carrier with the other hand. Willow watched Tara put the keys down on the table and noted that her hand was shaking.


A moment later, her voice came out in the same manner.


“I-I…I just…need to do something in our room.”


The door banged behind her, startling Sally, who had never seen Tara slam a door in her entire life. She turned to Willow, unusually vulnerable.


“Did I do something wrong?”


Willow bent down.


“No,” she shook her head, “Definitely not.”


She didn’t reach out to touch Sally as she knew it wasn’t always welcome when she was upset.


“Why don’t I get you those Skittles, and you can watch some TV for a while?”


Sally seemed to know she was being mollified, but candy and Gravity Falls cured a lot. Willow made sure Miss Kitty had some water and kibble before creeping over to the bedroom, easing the door shut behind her with a soft click.


Tara was hunched over the vanity, her shoulders rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths. Willow’s brow furrowed. She crossed the room quickly and laid a gentle hand on Tara’s back.


“Sweetie…”


But Tara jerked away, twisting to face her with panic in her eyes. She shoved Willow backwards, not hard, not even on purpose, but enough to show she was on edge.


“We’re not kids, Willow,” she snapped, voice tight and trembling.


Willow blinked, taken aback.


“I…I know,” she said softly, reaching again but staying cautious.


Tara motioned toward the door, toward the rest of the apartment.


“We have a kid,” she whispered fiercely, her voice cracking just a little.


Willow nodded, inching closer.


“I know, baby.”


This time, Tara let her take her hands, but they were trembling badly.


“We could’ve lost her,” Tara said, her voice rising, “First that blackmail nightmare, and now this. If anything had happened–”


Willow tried to interrupt.


“Tara, it was out of our control–”


“No! It was my fault!” Tara yanked her hands back and buried her face in them, “I’ve been playing music in clubs since I was sixteen, and I was too stupid to realize I was being drugged. Again!”


Willow winced, her heart twisting.


“We’d never been to a rave,” she said carefully, “We didn’t know the signs, the lingo. It could’ve been worse. Way worse. But it wasn’t. And now we know better. We won’t let it happen again.”


She tried not to grimace at the thought of them being in this situation before.


“Again-again.”


Tara’s hands slid into her hair, fingers gripping tightly.


“What if they do a surprise drug test? What if they decide we’re unfit?”


“Tara, they haven’t tested us since the initial application,” Willow said quickly. Her voice dipped to something almost pleading, “And even if they somehow decided now was the time, we’re fine. We’re gonna be fine. Our pee will be clear by Monday.”


Tara flung her arms up.


“How is this our life right now?! How are we talking about pee tests and losing custody?”


Willow stepped in, firm but gentle.


“Okay. Stop. Come here.”


She guided Tara to sit on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her, holding her hands again, this time with intention. Grounding her.


“Breathe, Tara. Deep. With me. Okay? Take a breath. Take a long, slow breath.”


Tara’s wild gaze found hers. Slowly, she inhaled. Then exhaled. One breath at a time.


Willow mirrored her breath until Tara’s shoulders started to lower, her hands loosening slightly. When Tara finally felt still again, she spoke softly.


“Now name five things you can see.”


Tara closed her eyes for one long moment. She remembered doing this with Willow in Dubai and felt this giant pang of love that brought her back into the moment. She opened her eyes and let them cast around the space in front of her.


“Closet. Hairbrush. Charger. Mirror,” she listed before allowing her gaze to fall on Willow, “Willow-Eyes.”


Willow smiled, knowing she’d caught on.


“Four things you can touch.”


“Blanket. Shoes. Necklace,” Tara answered, though each small breath before squeezing their fingers together, “Willow-Hand.”


Willow nodded encouragingly.


“Three things you can hear.”


Tara closed her eyes to focus.


“TV. Car horns,” she answered, as the city of angels never let up, “Willow-Breath.”


“Two things you can smell,” Willow continued, feeling Tara’s tension leave her body.


“Lotion,” Tara answered as she inhaled deeply, and a small, familiar crooked smile graced her lips, “Willow-smell. Strawberry-mocha.”


Willow blushed, but was smiling too.


“One thing you can taste.”


She leaned in a tad but let Tara have control. Tara closed the gap and pressed her lips onto Willow’s. She let the kiss linger, soft and grounding, until her mind quieted to a single word.


“Willow.”


Willow ran her hands up Tara’s thighs.


“Yeah, Willow. I’m right here, baby. And Sally is in the next room. And no one is taking her.”


Tara nodded evenly.


“When I thought she’d found drugs in the car…”


Willow lifted herself and sat beside Tara on the bed.


“What happened was scary. We essentially roofied ourselves. Again. We lost control, and we have to make sure it never happens again. For us and her,” she said with a resolute tone, “But the solution is easy. We just don’t drink anything we haven’t brought ourselves to shows or use sealed bottles from now on. Okay?”


Tara looked at Willow, trusting but still with anxiety in her eyes.


“What if someone has footage–”


Willow put a finger against Tara’s lips.


“I promise you, if anyone had footage of anything, it would have been on social media by now, and I know you know I’ve been scouring every mention,” she reassured firmly, “All that’s up there is compliments about your show.”


Tara looked deep into Willow’s eyes and allowed the trust and assurance to permeate her body.


“Better than when I’m completely straight?” she asked with a crooked smile.


“You? Completely straight?” Willow snorted, “That’s the darkest timeline.”


Tara laughed, quiet but deep from her belly. Willow beamed.


“That’s the sound I like to hear.”


Tara reached forward and played with the ends of Willow’s hair.


“I could have been straight as an arrow, but as soon as I met you, that arrow would have started spinning.”


Willow turned her head slightly.


“I said that to you,” she said after a moment, “You were hopped up on painkillers. When you broke your wrist. You remember that? You were so out of it.”


She grabbed Tara’s shirt with dramatic effect.


“Oh no, was that when all this started? It was the Dilaudid, wasn’t it? When will this drug-seeking behavior end?!”


Tara laughed again, and Willow joined in this time. They both laughed until they were disturbed by the sound of a door banging.


They gave each other a look, then jumped up and headed back into the living area.


The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Willow’s stomach twisted as she registered the missing sounds of cartoons and candy wrappers.


There was only the sound of Miss Kitty scratching at the door.


“Sally?” Willow called out and ran over to the other bedroom to look inside, “She’s not in her room!”


She grabbed her keys and they both ran out the front door. Willow made a gesture that she’d go left while Tara went right.


The street was busy, but Willow caught sight of the purple jacket Sally had gotten as one of her gifts, and she tried to harken back to running track in high school to catch up.


It was when she put a hand on Sally’s shoulder to pull her back, nearly collapsing in the process, that she remembered that PE had been the only class she ever came close to failing.


“Sally!” she gasped, doubled over and wheezing. Her lungs burned, her thighs screamed, and her only coherent thought was Cardio. Must. Happen. More. Regularly.


Sally looked like a deer caught in the headlights and tried to bolt again, but Willow was gripping her too hard.


“Sally, what the heck? You can’t just leave on your own like that!”


She noticed Sally’s backpack was over her shoulder again.


“Why do you have your bag?” she asked, pushing out short breaths as her heart started to slow again, “Where were you trying to go?”


Sally looked around uncomfortably.


“The bus stop,” she muttered, her cheeks flaming red in a way that Willow hadn’t seen in a while.


“Why?” Willow asked, loosening her grip on Sally’s jacket when she was confident she wouldn’t try to run again.


“I don’t want Tara to die,” Sally blurted, avoiding Willow’s eyes, “Or you either. I don’t want to be the reason something bad happens.”


Willow was stunned into silence. Her breath caught, her heart aching at the way Sally said it, not with drama, but with deep, quiet fear.


So much for a kid to carry.


It made her feel guilty not just for inducing it, but that she’d tortured herself so much at the same age just for falling in love with the girl next door.


She vowed to give Sally all the love she hadn’t given herself.


Her internal monologue was broken as Tara caught up with them, more in control of her breathing than Willow had been.


“Sally, what on earth were you–”


Willow quickly put a hand around Tara’s arm and squeezed to let her know to stop. She stood behind both of them and moved them forward.


“We’re taking you home where you belong. Where we all belong.”


Sally didn’t argue. Neither did Tara.


When they got home, Miss Kitty busily weaved through all of their legs with a labored purr before flouncing over to her bed and curling up to sleep, exhausted from all the emotional turmoil.


Willow looked ready to curl into a ball herself, but instead, she took charge gently. She led Tara and Sally to the couch and pulled a chair over, sitting opposite them with her hands folded tight in her lap.


“Sally said she ran away because…she was scared we were going to die.”


Tara’s face froze, then turned sharply toward Sally, her eyes wide with alarm.


“Sally, sweetie…what? Why would you think that?”


Sally kept her gaze low, her fingers knotting together.


“I heard you,” she said, voice clipped and quiet, “Talking.”


Willow and Tara shared a puzzled glance, worry creeping into both of their faces. Sally wrinkled her nose.


“About…doing drugs.”


Tara inhaled sharply, her hands pressing hard into the couch cushions.


“Oh. Oh no, sweetie, that’s not…What I meant was…”


“Tara?” Willow reached over and took her hand, gently but firmly, “Maybe we should just tell her. The real thing. She can handle it.”


Tara hesitated, her eyes moving slowly between Willow and Sally, then gave a tiny nod.


“Okay.”


Sally shifted, arms crossed over her chest now, but her eyes lifted with interest.


“You remember that gig I played on Saturday?” Tara started, her voice slightly nervous, like she was trying to make it sound smaller than it was, “Well, um…we drank something there without realizing it had, uh, something in it. Drugs.”


“We didn’t know,” Willow said quickly, “Not even a clue, or we never would’ve touched it.”


Tara nodded in agreement.


“It was really scary. We both blacked out. The next thing we knew, we were in the car, hours later, no memory of how we got there.”


She left out the part where they woke up missing their clothes, freshly inked, and with a wad of casino cash.


Sally listened carefully, one hand rubbing at the sleeve of her sweater, thumb twitching.


“I heard you say you were scared of me,” she said, quieter now.


Willow and Tara looked at each other, confused – until realization dawned. Tara leaned forward and gently cradled Sally’s face in her hands.


“Oh, no, no, sweetheart,” she whispered, “I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared for you. I was scared because…well, drugs are serious. And I was afraid that if anyone found out, they’d think…I was a bad person. Who couldn’t take care of you.”


Sally’s eyes flicked up, alarmed.


“I don’t think you’re a bad person,” she said quickly. “They told us at school about people getting their drinks spiked. That’s what happened, right?”


Tara blinked, then smiled softly.


“Yeah. Pretty much.”


“Definitely. It wasn’t our…well…we didn’t mean to. Just…a really bad accident,” Willow added.


“Did you get hurt?” Sally asked, genuinely worried.


“Only our pride,” Willow answered gently, “And a little in the butt.”


Tara gave Willow a look but rubbed her shoulder gently to ground herself.


“No, we didn’t. But it made me realize how easily something could have gone really wrong. And how scared I was…of not coming back to you. Of letting you down again. Of exposing you to anything harmful.”


Sally’s face crumpled slightly, her eyes glistening.


Willow leaned in closer.


“Sally, honey…did you really think we were going to die? And…did you think it would somehow be your fault?”


Sally didn’t answer. Not with words. But she looked away again.


“Like with my mom. She died from drugs.”


Willow’s breath caught in her chest.


“You are not responsible for what happened to your mom. Or your dad,” she said softly, watching that shadow cross Sally’s face, “Did he tell you it was your fault?”


The silence said enough.


Tara was quiet for a moment, then asked gently,


“Do you know anything about her? Your mom?”


Sally shrugged, almost embarrassed.


“I wasn’t s’posed to ask.”


Tara leaned in, voice careful and full of care.


“Have you ever visited her grave?”


Sally shook her head.


“Would you like to?”


“I don’t know,” she whispered.


“That’s okay. You don’t have to know yet. But if you ever do–we’ll be there with you. We can find out,” Tara said.


“I’d like to see a picture,” Sally said after a long pause, “See if I look like her.”


Tara nodded slowly.


“We can talk to your social worker.”


“And I’ll hit the internet. My old friend,” Willow added with a smile, “We’ll do a deep dive. Well, I’ll do a deep dive.”


Then she tilted her head, a little more serious.


“But listen. You can’t run off again like that, okay? It’s really dangerous.”


Sally twisted inward, knees curling up. Her voice was soft and strange when she spoke.


“Sometimes it feels like my brain’s buzzing. Like one of those vibrating chairs at the mall. Everything gets too loud and I just…I wanna be a rock. Then nothing can get me.”


Willow’s heart ached.


“Hey…maybe we could make a little ‘rock out’ corner. Just for you.”


She snickered at her own joke. Tara raised a brow at her, but with love.


“Like, your own space,” Willow went on, “We can turn your closet into a hideout. Put in your beanbag chair. Maybe a little color-changing lamp?”


“A mini fridge?” Sally perked up.


Tara smiled.


“If you promise that that’s where you’ll go next time you feel like running. Not out the door.”


Sally nodded solemnly.


“I promise. And I won’t tell anyone about…the drug thing.”


Willow and Tara exchanged a look of concern, but Sally cut them off.


“I’m not stupid. Social workers don’t always get things right. Maybe they don’t mean to twist stuff, but it still happens.”


The words of experience, unfortunately.


Tara reached out and touched her hand.


We won’t ever ask you to lie. Not for us. Not about us.”


“You didn’t,” Sally said with a shrug, “It’s just what family does.”


Both Willow and Tara swallowed hard at that, eyes suddenly misty. Tara leaned in and kissed the top of Sally’s head.


“We promise. We’ll be smarter, safer. You can count on that.”


Sally shifted in her seat for a moment before jumping up, throwing her arms around Tara and Willow before bolting for her bedroom to do a good survey of her closet.


Willow looked at Tara, surprised, who pulled her gently into the seat beside her.


“Thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”


Willow wrapped her arms tight around Tara.


“You won’t ever have to.”


Tara inhaled softly from the top of Willow’s head, allowing her heart to calm again.


“You know that song, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds?” she asked, so softly only Willow could hear, “It changes its time signature between 3/4 and 4/4.”


“Yeah?” Willow asked gently, closing her eyes as Tara’s breath acted like a massage against her scalp.


“Yeah,” Tara exhaled, filling Willow with a cascading warmth, “3/4 is that waltzing sound you hear. The sort-of hypnotic, drifting beat. Why everyone thinks it was written about drugs.”


“It isn’t?” Willow asked in surprise, though she didn’t open her eyes.


“No,” Tara chuckled softly, “It was based on a painting that John Lennon’s little boy did, mixed with some Alice in Wonderland imagery.”


“Hence the newspaper taxis,” Willow murmured, almost lulled to sleep again under Tara’s tender embrace and the release of emotion.


For a moment, Willow thought Tara had fallen asleep as well, but then she spoke.


“They call 4/4 time ‘common time’. It’s what you hear most of the time. It’s steady. Consistent.”


“Mm,” Willow agreed. She’d listen to Tara talk about anything.


“You are my 3/4 time and my 4/4 time,” Tara whispered into Willow’s ear, “My beautiful, ethereal mix of dependable and enchanting. The only rhythm I ever want to follow.”


She kissed Willow’s neck.


“My girl with kaleidoscope eyes.”


Willow felt a rush of color and shapes and emotion.


Reliable Dog-Geyser Person didn’t sound so bad with a bit of magic thrown in.


She turned her head, meeting Tara’s lips in a kiss that was soft, chaste, but lit up every part of her.


A few moments later, Sally skidded out of her room, brightened.


“Quit being mushy and get me a measuring tape!”


They both separated and raised eyebrows in the same manner. Sally’s nose scrunched.


“Please?” she asked, so innocently, without even meaning to.


Willow smiled at Tara and squeezed her hand as she stood and went over to a kitchen drawer to get a measuring tape.


“You know I once saw a mini fridge shaped like a Rubik's Cube.”


Sally’s eyes lit up.


“Could you twist it to release a soda?!”


Tara watched them go with a small grin playing on her lips.


Diamonds were definitely something to start thinking about.


She tuned back in to hear talk of a screen being mounted with screensavers of cats.


“I want in on the cute cat videos!” she called as she went in to join them and all three huddled up in the too-small-for-three closet.


“Meow!” Miss Kitty interrupted, indignant at the idea of needing any other cute cats to look at. She flounced at their feet.


Willow brought up a cat slideshow on her phone and held it up where a screen might go on the wall.


A few pictures passed by with various commentary before Sally grinned and looked at Willow to tease her.


“That one looks like you,” she said as she spotted an orange kitty out of the corner of her eye.


“Then the other one must be Tara!” Willow giggled.


Sally’s glee faltered as she saw the full picture.


“Ew, gross! You’re infiltrating the cat videos with your mushiness!”


“It’s in the air!” Willow threw up a hand joyously, “But nice vocab.”


Sally rolled her eyes but didn’t move from her spot cushioned between them.


“This was supposed to be a spot for one you know!”


They both went to stand, but Sally pulled them back down.


“I didn’t say go.”


They settled back, and Tara put her arm around them both.


“I think we have all earned some cake. What do you say we head to Milk Bar?”


“Can I get a milkshake?” Sally asked excitedly.


Tara nodded.


“You can get whatever you want.”


Sally fist-pumped the air triumphantly and ran out toward the door.


“Just no Skittles,” Willow murmured as she and Tara helped each other up.


“NEVER again,” Tara vowed.


Willow patted herself off and smiled.


“We did look like those cute kitties.”


“Because we’re purrrfect together,” Tara trolled in Willow’s ear, who giggled.


“Can we bring Miss Kitty back a kitty cup?” Sally asked as she rubbed the cat down by the door.


“We can walk her over if you want,” Tara suggested, “Get some fresh air.”


“Cool!” Sally replied, moving to grab Miss Kitty’s harness.


Tara got their jackets and took Willow’s hand after donning hers.


“I’m very ready to put all of this behind us.”


Willow agreed with a succinct squeeze.


“Let’s consider this our new year. And what better way to start than with cake?”

---

_________________
Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Dancing With Dimensions

Inevitable/Infinitely …Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

I just wanted to give a quick comment to the previous chapter and noticed you posted the new one early. I don't have time to read it now so I don't claim dibs but I will try to catch up soon.

Willow's new tattoo looks really cute. I would have mistaken it as the picture of a mouse. I loved Willow's stoned reasoning for choosing "a rat" as code for Tara.


Awww!

How unfortunate that they slept through the whole day and that Sally, Kimberly and Jeff got worried sick! Even if they couldn't foresee the drug incident they shouldn't have promised Sally to come back in the morning. They should have expected they'd need to sleep long on New Year's Day and considered the 2 - 3 hours drive and anounced their return for the afternoon. Sally and the adults would still have started to worry at 5 or 6 pm but at least it wouldn't have been as long as they did.

Now I do claim dibs for a late comment:

My heart ached for Tara suffering a panic attack and for Sally who thought she had to run away in order to save Tara and Willow from drug abuse!
Thank goodness that Willow brought both her girls through that crisis.


I have to admit that I can't remember when Tara helped Willow through a panic attack in a similar way during "Inevitable". Was it during their stay in Dubai?


A wise decision to tell Sally the truth about their accidental drug use. It shows her again the trust both of them have in her and works as an educational warning as well.


How horrible! Poor kid! And I thought I couldn't hate the dead scumbag more than I already did...


Great idea! Lucky that american appartments have walk in closets, my childhood bedroom only had a wooden wardrobe big anough for my clothes and not usable as a hideout.


Awww, I love that the feeling of them being a family has really taken hold in Sally!


That is very interesting information from Tara and super sweet affirmation for Willow with a nod to the "old reliable" interaction from canon.


That did take some moments to click for me but now I hope that Tara wants to start thinking about diamonds in an engagement ring!


Yay to the playful banter and more cute family vibes!

Will's redemption —



Your DIBS integrity is great to see!



I definitely softened the image for Willow's sake



I guess they figured they'd get up at 10 or 11 and make their way over I don't think it was too planned.







I'm a big fan of Willow being a pillar of strength.



It was! But I should have specified, I've fixed it now, thank you!!



I think being real with kids, age appropriately, is always the best way!



You're going to hate him a bit more soon...



I've had various closet/wardrobes over the years and the walk in is definitely a fave.



Me too! And that she's got even more around her!



It's why I purposely mentioned it in the last chapter, I've always liked the idea of Tara turning that notion on its head for her.







My favorite vibe!

Thanks so much for your feedback!

---

_________________
Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Dancing With Dimensions

Inevitable/Infinitely …Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

---

---

Tara let herself into the apartment and was surprised to see Willow sitting at the table with her laptop.


She was hunched over with her fingers drumming quickly over the keyboard. Her hair had been slicked back with her hand, something she only did when she was engrossed in something. It stopped the hair from falling into her eyes and usually meant she was due for a haircut.


Tara happened to find it incredibly sexy, but her presence was unexpected and threw her off a little.


“Hey sweetie,” she greeted as she closed the door behind her, “Why aren’t you in Claremont?”


It had been a hectic morning getting all three of them out the door, and Willow usually wasn’t back until dinnertime on lab days.


“Someone wasn’t careful with their tert-butyllithium and things got, uh…lit,” Willow replied with a wry grin and a self-deprecating nose scrunch. When Tara’s brow creased in confusion, she added, “There was a fire.”


Tara’s hand tightened on the strap of her bag before she swiftly dropped it on the table.


“Oh my god. Are you okay?!”


Willow nodded quickly.


“It was small and contained, and I wasn’t even in the lab when it happened. I literally pulled into the parking lot when the alert came through. So I rushed out the door without breakfast, just for a lovely round trip through LA traffic,” she said dryly, eyes twinkling as she tapped her keyboard, “But I made use of the free time. I’ve been a busy little bee.”


“Oh?” Tara asked, intrigued.


Willow scooted over so Tara could sit beside her.


“Check this out.”


Tara pulled up a chair and leaned in. The screen was cluttered with tabs.


“Is this about Sally’s mom?” she asked, noticing a document with Sally’s name at the top, “Madeline still hasn’t sent anything new.”


“Yeah, I got tired of waiting on the social worker, so I did some digging through everything we got when this all started. Aaaand…bingo,” Willow pressed the down arrow to reveal a bolded name outlined in red, “Elena Reyes Parker.”


“You’re sure?” Tara grabbed Willow’s arm, “Oh, Willow, that’s amazing.”


Willow nodded proudly.


“It was on Sally’s original birth certificate.”


Tara frowned.


“But I’ve seen that certificate. It only had our father’s name on it. I remember because it struck me how weird it was that no mother was listed.”


Willow’s grin turned sly.


“Because there are two birth certificates - one real, one…let’s call it suspicious.”


Tara’s brows drew together, and she blinked, her mind catching on the words ‘two birth certificates’ as if they were in a foreign language.


“…what?”


“Look,” Willow said, clicking between windows, “This one here is what social services gave us - just Daddy dearest.”


She practically spat the words.


“And this one,” she pulled up an identical document with much more information, “Came directly from her hospital records.”


Tara leaned in. The mother’s name was right there.


“Why would there be two different versions? She wasn’t adopted, was she?”


“Buckle up,” Willow said, flexing her fingers, “Ready to hear more proof your dad was even worse than we thought?”


“Not exactly breaking news,” Tara replied dryly.


Willow launched into motion, fingers flying across the trackpad.


“So the original certificate includes Elena’s details - birth date, birthplace, all that. Once I had that, I went hunting. But the biggest question I had–”


“Why are there two birth certificates?” Tara interjected.


“Exactly!” Willow grinned, “Turns out the second one, the one without her name, was issued under California’s Safe Surrender Law. It lets birth certificates be reissued without the mother’s name…but only if she surrenders the child herself…or if someone files paperwork claiming she did.”


“Okay…” Tara replied slowly, “So Elena surrendered her, and our Dad took her in at that point? Doesn’t line up with what I know of him.”


“Nope,” Willow popped the ‘p’, “Check the issue date. The anonymous certificate came a week after Sally’s birth. That’s super funky because…”


Willow paused for dramatic effect.


“She was already dead.”


She let the words hang in the air. The laptop hummed with the extent of its use as Tara remained in stunned silence.


“What?!?”


Willow pulled up her notes to read from them.


“I found her death certificate.”


She paused, her tone softening.


“The overdose story we were told? Technically true, but not like we thought. It was an ‘iatrogenic overdose’. That’s what they call it when too much of a postnatal drug is administered by hospital staff. It triggered a seizure. She died in the hospital, and there's no sign of illegal substances in her system, not in the tox screen or medical history. If she ever had a problem, she stayed clean while pregnant.”


Tara clutched her chest, visibly moved. She blinked away tears as she looked at Willow’s screen.


“But…how do you know all that? That wouldn’t be on the death certificate.”


Willow shrugged modestly.


“I stayed above-board, promise. No hacking, at least not of the illegal variety. I found a death notice in her high school alumni paper. Someone posted it, thanking the hospital and specifically this one nurse by name. I figured the nurse was the one who passed word to the school. Once I had her name, I looked around and – boom! She had a blog back then.”


Tara raised an eyebrow.


“A blog?”


“Yeah. Mostly about sewing scrub caps,” Willow said with a weary grin, “But there was one post where she mentioned needing time off to testify in a legal case. I cross-referenced the dates with court records. Turns out there was a malpractice suit. The hospital settled quietly, for a ridiculously small amount, ‘in the interest of the child.’”


Willow tapped the table.


“And that’s why he claimed Sally a week after she was born. He got a sniff of a lawsuit and needed her for the settlement money. And surprise – he didn’t save a cent for her.”


Tara’s eyes widened.


“But why erase Elena from the birth certificate?”


“My theory?” Willow said, “Insurance. Publicly, no one knew she was the mother, so no one else could contest the money. He probably had help from someone shady. Maybe a friend or drinking buddy who knew someone at the firehouse helped him file the surrender paperwork and fudged it so no one questioned why her name vanished. It let him control the narrative and the cash.”


Tara leaned back, stunned.


“And CPS never caught on?”


Willow shrugged one shoulder.


“They had DNA proof he was the father. The mom had no family. They thought she was an addict. They saw a grieving single dad and didn’t look any deeper into how or when he took Sally. Unfortunately, Elena just didn't matter enough to them.”


“She mattered,” Tara said quietly, tears pricking her eyes, “She mattered to us. What happened to her?”


“She was listed as unclaimed after autopsy,” Willow said softly, “I’ve already emailed the Fresno coroner’s office. With the original birth certificate, Sally is her next of kin. As her guardians…”


“We can claim her ashes,” Tara finished, touching Willow’s knee.


Willow nodded.


“And maybe give Sally some closure.”


Tara took Willow’s face in both hands and kissed her deeply.


“You were right,” she murmured. “This is some of your best work.”


Willow rested her forehead against Tara’s for a long moment, then turned back to the screen.


“I haven’t even shown you the best part - the one actually good thing.”


She clicked to a photo of a teenage girl on school picture day, her soft smile framed by deep, familiar eyes. They were actually the same blue as Tara’s but had a crease and curve that matched Sally’s exactly.


“Oh my god.”


“She looks just like Sally, doesn't she? Sally just has a little sprinkle of you in there too,” Willow said, her voice catching because she didn’t want to even think of their father having anything to do with either of them, “I emailed a high-res copy to the print shop so we can frame it for her before she gets home.”


Tara stared reverently at the photo. She touched the screen where the image shone.


“Elena Reyes Parker,” she whispered, “Thank you for giving us the sweetest gift that is Sally.”


Willow put an arm around Tara’s shoulders and encouraged her head to lean against her.


“You did so well, sweetie,” Tara said, kissing Willow’s neck softly, “I love you so much. You have earned so many brownie points.”


Willow turned her head to meet Tara’s.


“I’d like to exercise my reward options of part payment in smoochies.”


Tara’s lips sloped up on one side.


“Just part?”


Willow pressed her lips against Tara’s, popping off every few seconds just to land another one.


“The rest will be cashed in for snuggles, backrubs, and maybe a forgiveness pass.”


Tara arched an eyebrow.


“What do you need forgiveness for?”


“Nothing…yet,” Willow replied, then made a grab for her foot, “But you never know when this foot will be inserted into my mouth.”


Tara laughed and squeezed Willow’s thigh under the table.


“I love you.”


Willow held up her hand and splayed all five fingers, dropped to two, and then made an O shape; the sign for I love you they had learned in China.


They leaned in and nuzzled noses, generally being disgustingly cute together until Tara realized it was time to collect Sally.


They left together in opposite directions as Willow ran to the print shop and Tara headed to the school.


“Hey sweetie,” Tara greeted Sally as she walked out of school, “Good day?”


Sally shrugged one shoulder, making her backpack bounce.


“We did a lot of poetry today.”


“Oh yeah?” Tara asked with a smile, “I always loved Maya Angelou and Emily Dickinson.”


“Like ‘“Hope” is the thing with feathers’?” Sally asked keenly.


“Yeah, I always liked that one,” Tara nodded and hugged Sally sidelong, “Did you read any today you liked?”


“Robert Frost was okay,” Sally replied after a moment’s thought, “I don’t think he really took the less travelled road, though. I think he’s just trying to make himself feel better about it. He’s kind of a whiner.”


Tara held back a laugh.


“That’s very insightful.”


Sally tilted her head and kicked a stone on the path.


“Did you ever write poetry?”


“Some people say songwriting is like writing poetry,” Tara mused softly.


Sally’s nose scrunched.


“Gross, that means you wrote a bunch of poetry about Willow,” she rolled her eyes with a fervor that normally waited for the teen years to arrive.


Tara laughed and patted Sally’s shoulder.


“Come on, Willow has something for you at home.”


“It better not be a sappy love poem,” Sally said with a deep frown.


Tara chuckled.


“Just don’t get her started on Sappho. Trust me, you’ll regret it.”


Sally arched an eyebrow but fell in step.


When they got home, Willow was rinsing a coffee mug in the sink.


Sally put her bookbag down almost cautiously.


“Well? Where is it?”


Willow turned and looked slightly disappointed, but hid it well.


“Did Tara tell you what’s going on?”


Sally shrugged again.


“I dunno, she just told me not to mention someone called Sappho to you.”


Willow’s eyes lit up at the mention, and she dramatically fell back into the couch, pressing the back of her hand against her forehead.


“Sweet mother, I cannot weave,” she recited theatrically.


She pulled herself off the couch and fell into Tara’s arms, who had to catch her, swoon-style.


“Slender Aphrodite has overcome me with longing for a girl!”


Sally just groaned.


“I should’ve listened.”


Tara dropped a movie-worthy kiss on Willow’s lips before straightening her back up.


“I didn’t tell her anything. This is yours to share; you did all the work.”


Willow linked her fingers with Tara and gently tugged her so they moved together. She brought them to the couch and indicated for Sally to sit with them.


She sat cross-legged in front of them with a bored look on her face.


“Is this going to be like the time you told me about how much sex you have?”


“We never told you how much,” Willow refuted with a scoff, “And anyway–”


“I think we can just move on,” Tara interrupted, gently squeezing Willow’s arm.


“Right,” Willow nodded quickly, “Um, you know we talked about your Mom a while back?”


“Yeah?” Sally replied, tightening her knees to her chest.


“Well, I found a picture,” Willow said, some emotion showing in her voice as she reached over to the end table where a paper bag was sitting and took out a simple white frame with a high-quality print of the school photo in it.


Sally took it, slightly stunned. Her grip was awkward, all thumbs, unsure about this unexpected development, despite asking for it.


Willow was about to open her mouth and gush out everything she knew, but stopped. She looked at Tara and nodded for her to take over.


Tara just kissed Willow’s head and stayed silent.


“What was her name?” Sally asked after a long pause.


“Her name was Elena Reyes Parker,” Tara said softly, her voice wrapping around the name like it was fragile.


“She was 19 when she had you, and she died because a doctor made a mistake,” Willow added gently, “Not because of anything else.”


“She didn’t do drugs?” Sally asked, looking up with glassy eyes and seeming every bit the child she still was, “So she didn’t do it on purpose?”


“No, sweetie,” Tara said, gently stroking Sally’s hair, “She took care of you all those months she carried you, and we’re sure she would have taken care of you outside of it too, if she’d been given the chance.”


Sally sniffled and ran a hand under her nose.


“It’s not fair.”


Willow shook her head.


“No, it isn’t. You both deserved more.”


Sally bit the corner of her lip.


“Do you know where her grave is, like you talked about?”


Willow looked to Tara, who nodded encouragingly back.


“I’m working on it. But I think we should be able to get her ashes back. And then you can keep them or spread them or do whatever you want to do.”


“We can do a grave for her if you’d like,” Tara added, “Whatever you want.”


Sally just nodded wordlessly and over the next few minutes, moved herself over to sit between Willow and Tara without looking up from the photo.


“You have her eyes,” Willow said, and Sally looked with a rare, sincere smile.


“I do?”


Willow nodded keenly.


“You look so alike. And you and Tara share a smile.”


Sally actually leaned into Willow and rested her head on Willow’s shoulder. Willow looked to Tara with tears in her eyes, and Tara moved to wrap an arm around them both.


“You know, if you wanted, we could go visit the town she grew up in,” Tara suggested out of the blue, “It might help you feel closer.”


Sally bit her lip and finally nodded.


“Yeah, I wanna…I wanna see things she’s seen. Does that make any sense?”


“Totally,” Willow reassured, “But I hope for now, the photo is enough to help you feel a little closer.”


Sally held the frame firmly with both hands.


“It’s the prettiest photo I’ve ever seen.”


Tara and Willow exchanged a glance. The silent kind they’d perfected, holding a mix of pride, sadness, and love.


One they’d share as parents for years to come.

---

Willow yanked open the front door for the tenth time that morning, surreptitiously glancing up and down.


Well, she attempted to do it surreptitiously, but in fact, it could not be more obvious.


“Darling,” Tara called gently from where she was sitting at the table on her graphics tablet, without looking up, “The mail guy’s not a stalker. You don’t have to keep checking like he’s gonna sneak up on us.”


Willow turned back around, slightly wild-eyed. Her coffee had already gone cold, and she would surely develop a blister from wearing out the floor with her pacing.


“I just…what if he doesn’t knock? What if he just drops it and runs like that one time with my mechanical keyboard? You remember that, right? It was traumatic. There were ants.”


“Baby…the box literally says ‘Cremated Remains’,” Tara lifted one eyebrow gently, “I don’t think anyone will go out of their way to steal it like some kind of porch pirate.”


Willow closed the door with a scowl.


“Well, maybe it would be a porch ninja. Didn’t think of that now, did you?”


“Mmhmm,” Tara replied without further comment.


Willow threw herself back into a chair beside Tara.


“I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s been this whole saga. Like, ‘yes, we cremated her. No, we don’t have the ashes. Surprise! She’s in a forensics closet!’”


“And I know if you hadn’t pressed for more information, they never would have discovered the ashes in their forensics closet,” Tara soothed gently by putting her hand over Willow’s, “The gift you’re giving Sally by getting her mom’s ashes will stay with her for her entire life. But I stayed home today just so we wouldn’t miss them. Between you, me, and the video doorbell you got after the keyboard incident, I promise you, we won’t miss it.”


Willow moved her chin to rest on her upturned hand.


“It seems so crass to have her mother arrive with the electric bill. Like she’s just another piece of mail.”


“Our electric bill came last–” Tara started to reply, then bit her tongue, “Not the point. And I know. That’s why we haven’t told Sally how we’re getting them. All she’ll know is the urn is here.”


Willow just sighed.


Tara left her tablet down and stood behind Willow to massage her shoulders.


“Have I told you lately that I love you?”


Willow relaxed slightly.


“Every day.”


Tara dropped a kiss on Willow’s forehead.


Willow closed her eyes for a peaceful moment before her phone buzzed with the notification from the doorbell camera. Her eyes then flung open, and she bolted upright before skidding across the floor. She tugged the door open, and a big white box with a Priority Mail sticker looked back up at her.


“There’s a doorbell for a reason!” Willow called out after the retreating mailman, all but shaking her fist at him cartoonishly.


“Okay, sweetie, continue your personal vendetta with the United States Postal Service later,” Tara said as she joined Willow and lifted the box up.


She placed it on the table and went to get a knife to open it. Willow closed the door and ran a hand over the white box. She felt a sense of sadness to think a person could just be shipped across county lines.


Tara seemed to sense it and put a hand on Willow’s back when she returned.


“It’s not right. But Willow, what you’ve done to get this for her…it’s invaluable. I hope you know that.”


Willow gave the barest of nods.


“She’s our girl,” she smiled sadly.


Tara’s face softened, her shoulders gently lowering. She leaned in and kissed Willow gently, then took her hand and nodded.


They opened the box, retrieved the urn, and cleaned it up after disposing of the box.


Willow picked Sally up from school as scheduled and, as they neared home, prepared her for what was on the kitchen table.


“Hey,” she said, trying not to nervously wring her hands, “So I, um, got your mom’s urn today.”


“Urn?” Sally asked, nose scrunched.


“It’s what they keep the ashes in,” Willow clarified.


“Oh,” Sally slowly nodded, “Can I look in it?”


“If you want?” Willow replied, slightly unsure herself, “Just…be very careful. Okay?”


Sally nodded, and Willow let them inside moments later. Sally said a quick hello to Tara but was mostly looking at the urn with various facial expressions.


She eventually picked it up and shifted it in her hands, unsure what to make of the cool metal or weighty feel. With the caution of someone diffusing a bomb, she popped the top and peered inside.


A small dust cloud burst out, making her recoil. A metallic smell lifted her nose, faint but there. She gently moved the urn from side to side and frowned, watching the ashes slide around inside.


“That’s it? That’s my whole mom?”


“I’m sure it’s disconcerting to see someone reduced to so little,” Tara said, hugging Sally sidelong.


Sally looked like she was going to poke inside before thinking better of it.


“Is this where ‘ashes to ashes, dust to dust’ comes from?”


“Yeah,” Willow nodded solemnly.


Sally blinked.


“Huh. I thought it came from Thanos.”


Willow’s lips twitched.


“Around for a good five hundred years before the Avengers,” she said, her voice caught between flat and amused.


Sally gave a somewhat searching gaze.


“You learn somethin’ new every day.”


“It’s okay to have mixed feelings,” Tara reassured, “Or confused feelings. Or just…any feelings.”


Sally closed the urn securely again.


“I’ve been talking about it with Dr. Ellison. She says getting my mom’s ashes doesn't mean I’m supposed to suddenly understand who she was or how to feel about her. It’s just a part of her story I get to finally know.”


Willow and Tara exchanged a look.


Sally rarely opened up about therapy, so they wanted to be careful not to misstep.


“That’s very true,” Tara replied cautiously, “Feelings can be very complicated. Anything that comes up is totally okay. You don’t have to rush to figure it out.”


Sally held the urn at arm’s length.


“I’m not sure where to put it. Or what to do. Do I talk to her?”


“You can try a few places, figure it out,” Willow suggested.


“And you can talk to her as much as you want,” Tara encouraged.


Sally stared for another moment before nodding definitively.


“I’m gonna go put it with her picture,” she said, holding the urn as if breathing too hard might crack it.


She went to the doorway and paused, glancing back at Willow and Tara and down at the urn. She reached out and lightly touched the edge of the photo frame before disappearing into her bedroom and closing the door.


Willow sank down onto a chair, slightly relieved, and Tara sat sideways in her lap. She lifted Willow’s chin with her finger and pressed their noses together.


“You being a nurturer is so very sexy.”


Willow smiled, basking in Tara’s love.


“Wait ‘til you see what I pack you for lunch tomorrow.”


Tara murmured softly and met Willow’s lips in a tender kiss.


The next morning, as Willow was in fact packing their lunches, Sally came out of her bedroom with the urn.


She’d carried it around all of the previous day, but expressed unease with sleeping with it beside her in case it fell over and she accidentally inhaled any. But then seemed upset to be in a different room, and so they had put the urn inside a giant ziplock and left it next to her bed.


“Did you mean it when you said we could go visit where she’s from?”


“Of course,” Tara answered as she stirred creamer into the coffee in her travel mug.


Willow nodded as she sliced cucumbers.


“Yeah, since we know the name of the school, we could even contact them and ask if they have any other information we could get.”


“That’s a great idea,” Tara clapped a hand on Willow’s back, “I’ll do that today for you, sweetie.”


“Cool!” Sally agreed and started to put the urn in her backpack.


Willow and Tara shared alarmed looks.


“Um, sweetie…”


Willow moved forward and very gently took the urn.


“I’ll take care of her until you’re home,” she said, meeting Sally’s eye, “Okay?”


Sally’s eyes moved furtively before she finally gave up her hold.


“Don’t make her listen to your bad jokes.”


“I save those for you,” Willow stuck out her tongue.


“Alright, off we go,” Tara interrupted with an authoritative voice, “Grab your lunch.”


Willow handed out two lunch packs, first to Sally, then Tara.


“Roast beef on wheat and falafel pita.”


“You take such good care of us,” Tara kissed Willow’s cheek.


Willow just smiled and felt entirely fulfilled.


She was back in the kitchen preparing dinner when Tara arrived home later that day with a big smile.


“Great news,” she said, clapping her hands together, “I spoke with the Principal of the school and she says she remembers Elena. I’ve organized a meeting with her for us all for this Friday.”


Sally’s eyes lit up, and she hugged the urn tightly, her body language displaying the emotion she didn’t have the verbiage to express. Her knuckles were white, but she was smiling and very lightly jutting her hips excitedly.


“F-Friday?” Willow asked, already picturing the round trip and the whole day off school, “Like a school day?”


“Well, yeah,” Sally said, rolling her eyes, “The Principal’s not gonna hang out on a Saturday.”


Tara shot Sally a gentle warning look and approached Willow.


“Have I made a mistake?”


“We’re…blowing off school?” Willow asked, her mouth going dry.


“Well, technically we’re going to school,” Tara replied, offering a wry smile, “Just not ours.”


Willow gulped, and Tara took her hands.


“Can you handle that?”


Willow looked nauseous but forced a smile.


“For my girls? Anything.”


“You don’t have to–” Tara started, but Willow was quick to raise her chin defiantly.


“No,” she shook her head, then nodded, “I mean, yes. I do. And I want to. Just.”


She took in a deep breath, which Tara mirrored.


“Love you.”


Willow whispered a response, and they met for a soft kiss. From behind, Sally groaned.


“Stop grossing out my Mom!”


Tara looked over her shoulder with a grin.


“But we’re so good at it.”


Sally rolled her eyes so hard that they were surprised they didn’t fall all the way in. Though notably, she didn’t restrain a small smile.


“Those eyerolls remind me that the teenage years are coming,” Willow muttered quietly.


“We can handle it,” Tara said with quiet confidence.


Willow arched an eyebrow.


“You think?”


Tara turned back to look at Willow adoringly. She linked their fingers and pressed their palms so close together there wasn’t a point of no contact.


“With my girl? Anything.”

---

_________________
Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Dancing With Dimensions

Inevitable/Infinitely …Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

woooo! dibs!

thank you for the lovely chapter(s) again. my brain isn't working so sorry for the short comment but this story is so lovely. i love that sally opened up about therapy just a tad.

you've written such a lovely family! can't wait to read more

_________________

So excited for Sally have more connection with her mother, it’s so sweet Willow made this work out for her! Excited to see what the principal has to say!

So he claimed his newborn baby to collect a small amount of settlement money without thinking hoch much it costs to raise a child. Once he had spent the money he still had to pay for Sally's child support and saw her just as a burden. And he obviously mistreated her the whole time until his death.

I'm wondering how Sally turned into this great kid although she never received love and tenderness from an adult during the first eleven years of her life. Under those circumstances she could have developed much more severe mental health problems than she has.


I hope the resemblance between Elena and Tara just indicates that Tara's father felt attracted to Elena because she resembled Kimberly, not that Elena actually was related to him (his cousin or so)...





Willow is so cute! I don't understand what did happen to the parcel with the keyboard, though - if it was stolen, what does she mean with the ants?



It's cute and sad that Sally wants to carry the urn everywhere like a security blanket or stuffy. Maybe they can take a tiny amount of the ashes and lock it in a pendant for her so she can actually always carry a physical reminder of her mom with her.


Awww, so like Willow to nearly get a panic attack over having to "blow of school"!

teeth —







Short comments are very welcome comments! I appreciate any and all! And I do love some personal growth!



Thank you

Thanks so much for taking the time to leave a comment, it means the world

TheBigPineapple99 —



Hope you enjoy!

Thanks so much for commenting!

Will's redemption —



He was hoping for more and then was stuck with her, resented her for it.



They were there. She had meltdowns, lied easily, rejected schooling and therapy all at the start. Realistically would it have taken her longer than the time she's been with W/T, probably, but I took some artistic license for storytelling purposes and tried to root it all with consistency, love, friendship, and education she responds positively to.



Apologies, bad wording on my part. She meant Sally looked just like Elena, with a sprinkle of Tara.



When it was returned, there were ants in the package (I didn't think too deeply about it, but the idea was someone stole it, dumped it when it wasn't valuable and by the time it got back to Willow it was in disarray)



You and a certain someone else had the same idea!



just shows you how dedicated she is to her family!





Thank you so much for your feedback!

---

_________________
Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Dancing With Dimensions

Inevitable/Infinitely …Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

---

---

Willow gathered Sally’s hair up as she brushed through the sections.


“I don’t know how you get it this knotted overnight.”


“It’s a special skill,” Sally replied, sticking her tongue out between her teeth.


Willow rolled her eyes playfully and paused when she felt a crease against Sally’s skull. She frowned.


“What is this?”


Sally lifted her hand to feel what Willow was feeling.


“Plate at my head,” she answered flatly.


Willow’s stomach dropped.


“You have a plate in your head?”


How had a surgical plate not shown up in her medical record?


“No, a plate was thrown at my head,” Sally clarified, rolling her eyes right back, “I was four. I barely ‘member it. But now the spot is bumpy. Sometimes I rub it when I'm thinking.”


Willow’s heart clenched. She brushed her fingers gently over Sally’s hair, the ache in her chest pulling her down into a soft kiss on the crown of Sally's head.


Surprisingly, Sally allowed it.


They resumed brushing her hair. Willow thought about all of the pain this young girl had gone through that she didn’t even know about, but Sally was casually humming and didn’t seem in distress about the revelation, so Willow let it lie.


A few minutes later, Tara came into the hotel room with a take-out bag and disposable cups in a holder.


“Chilaquiles and horchata for my girls.”


“Yum!” Sally and Willow said in unison, jumping up to get their breakfast.


They’d driven up to Fresno the night before, which was about 40 minutes outside the town Elena grew up in, to break up the journey and dodge a ridiculously early morning. The little hotel had been nothing special, but it gave them warm beds, hot showers, and a slow morning without alarms.


They were all also playing hooky, but it was worth it for Sally to get some closure.


(Technically, Willow wasn’t. She’d coded a script to mark her attendance and record the lectures, calling it the ‘Head on Fire Patch’. Only for emergencies, she swore.)


“Don’t eat on the bed,” Tara chastised gently, “You’ll get salsa on the sheets.”


She ushered them over to the small table and sat on the edge of the bed when they took up the two chairs. Neither questioned her.


“Your hair looks nice, Sally,” Tara commented as she handed out napkins.


“Willow did it,” Sally replied as she sucked on the straw.


“I was going for ‘brushed’,” Willow replied with a smile.


“Well, it looks very pretty,” Tara replied with an even nod, “Now eat up. We have to be out there by 10. Oh, and Willow? The cavalry situation went ahead. Full steam.”


“Gotcha,” Willow said, eyes darting toward Tara like they’d just exchanged a secret code.


Sally glanced up for a brief moment and gave a barely perceptible shake of her head as she happily speared her plastic fork into the takeout container.


“You sprang for the avocado.”


“Nothing’s too good for my girls,” Tara winked and reached across to dab her napkin at the corner of Willow’s mouth.


Willow smiled and turned her head to kiss the palm of Tara’s hand.


“I’m trying to eat here,” Sally said, deadpan, though it didn’t seem to stop her fork from moving.


When they were all finished, they began gathering their belongings and using the bathroom before leaving.


“Don’t forget–” Tara started to call.


“Got it!” Sally zipped up her backpack, with the urn inside, and put it on her shoulders.


Tara guided her out the door with Willow on her heels, and they headed to the car.


They were deep in California’s agricultural center, and the town they arrived in was so small they almost drove straight through it. The streets were littered with farm equipment, modest single-story homes, and only a few businesses that entirely catered to local trade, like the post office and a gas station with no brand affiliation. There was a lot of farmland on every side, and the streets rattled with haulers moving through every few minutes.


There was one single school that catered to all grades, though it barely looked like it had enough rooms to house each. Tara parked on the street, double-checking the signage to make sure they were where they were supposed to be, and turned off the engine.


She looked into the backseat.


“Are you ready, sweetie?”


Sally glanced sidelong at her seat companion, her backpack buckled up for safety.


“Should I bring her?” Sally asked, nodding toward it.


Tara nodded kindly.


Sally pushed the button free of her seatbelt, then of the one around the backpack. She took out the urn and held it firmly against her chest.


“Who are we meeting again?” Willow asked Tara as she came around from the passenger seat.


“Dr. Martinez, the principal,” Tara answered, her brow furrowing slightly, “Why are you so fidgety?”


“She’s a teacher,” Willow whispered with wide eyes, “What if she knows we’re skipping?”


Tara put a hand on Willow’s back and gently guided her toward the school.


The building was a bit of a Tardis in that it seemed much larger on the inside. They walked into a central hallway, which branched off into sections for early learning, middle, and high school ages. They could see straight through to a courtyard that led to a library and, in the periphery, a gym-cum-assembly hall on one side and a football field on the other.


“The smaller the school, the bigger the football field,” Willow murmured, earning a nudge from Tara as they were no longer alone.


A middle-aged woman with straight, jet-black hair emerged from the office area and walked toward them.


She moved with the poise of someone who ran her school like the Pentagon, as if safeguarding the nation's future depended on her. Her years of teaching showed, though not as a burden, but as quiet authority, and the soft lines on her face hinted at compassion beneath her firmness. When she smiled and tucked a strand of hair back over her ear, her teeth flashed. They were neat and polished, yet natural. Nothing about her exuded fakeness and made it easier for them to approach her.


“Are you the Maclays?” she asked, her voice warm but collected, the sort that didn’t put up with nonsense but never felt unkind.


Willow was quick to extend her hand before Tara could reply.


“Yes, hi!”


She shook Willow’s hand, then Tara’s.


“I’m Ramona Martinez. We emailed.”


Tara raised her hand.


“That would be with me. Thank you so much for meeting us. I hope we’re not disrupting your day.”


Ramona shook her head and sighed softly.


“I was happy to give the time. When I got your email, I was stunned. I’ve never forgotten Elena. She was so sweet, though she carried so much trauma. I taught her English back then, and she was quite the poet.”


Sally pushed out somewhat shyly from behind Willow and Tara.


“I like poetry,” she said, hugging the urn with both arms, “I’m learning about Mary Oliver in school.”


“A National Book Award and Pulitzer Prize winner, a fine choice to become a scholar of,” Ramona replied with a special smile that showed she obviously connected well with children.


Tara put a hand on Sally’s back.


“This is–”


“Oh, I don’t even have to guess,” Ramona replied, ever-so-slightly transfixed, “You must be Sally. You’re your mother’s spitting image.”


She looked like she resisted reaching out and straightened up smartly.


“Come into my office. I’ve gathered everything I could find in our yearbook records,” she said as she guided them into a little office tucked into the back, “I have some pieces she wrote for the school paper and a trophy from debate club. We normally keep these things in our trophy case, but I would be happy for you to take it home with you.”


She gestured for them to sit and pushed a folder and a small trophy across the desk.


“Thank you,” Tara said sincerely as she handed the folder to Willow, who opened it to show Sally, “Did you know anything about her? Or her family?”


Ramona nodded slowly.


“Her family lived here for generations, like most local families. They were citrus farmers, though by the time Elena was in high school, they had moved to city jobs. Ana was in administration, I remember, because she briefly worked here during the summer. Thomas was in maintenance, I believe,” she answered, her face growing somber, “When her parents died in her junior year, she was the only one left. Social services were involved, I almost took her in myself when the foster system wanted to move her to the city when they couldn’t find anyone locally.”


“Lost her parents as a teenager?” Willow murmured to Tara, “Are you seeing a pattern?”


“That my father was a predator? Already knew,” Tara whispered back before glancing quickly to Sally to make sure she didn't hear.


Sally was engrossed in her mother's documents, but Tara shared a look with Willow to say they needed to be careful. This all happened in a split second while Ramona was still talking, and she didn't seem to have noticed their sidebar either.


“What happened?” Tara prompted when Ramona had finished speaking, “Back then?”


Ramona sighed deeply, like it had been stuck in her throat for a decade.


“Unfortunately, she ran before I could extend the offer. I always wondered where she ended up.”


There was a small, pained twitch, but she remained composed.


“Mendota,” Tara answered softly, “At least by the time she was 19. That was when she…”


She squeezed Sally’s shoulders, who didn’t look up from reading the newspaper articles.


“A stone's throw away,” Ramona’s perfect teeth clenched, “If I had known…”


She trailed off, and Willow and Tara exchanged an uncomfortable glance.


“You mentioned her parents' passing away,” Willow spoke up, “Do you know how?”


Ramona nodded softly.


“A tragedy. House fire. That poor girl was left with absolutely nothing.”


Sally lifted her gaze for a moment, and Ramona seemed stricken for the briefest of moments, realizing she’d said too much.


“Were they buried locally?” Tara pushed the conversation along.


Ramona cleared her throat and nodded.


“Yes, in a local cemetery attached to the community garden. She would go there a lot. I remember her telling me she loved to watch ‘the bees and the butterflies’. More than once, she was caught leaving school at lunch without permission to grab a taco and go there to write.”


“Can we go there?” Sally asked, looking up to Tara.


“Of course,” Tara nodded, “Could you give us directions?”


Ramona wrote out a few lines on a Post-it and gave it to Tara. She handed it to Willow.


“Willow, could you…?”


“Oh, yeah, right. Of course,” Willow fumbled with the paper, her voice rushing, “Excuse me, I just need to, uh…put it in the GPS. It’s old. Takes a minute.”


Sally rolled her eyes, but no one saw it. Tara stood and extended her hand.


“Thank you so much for taking time out of your day.”


“I wish I could have done more,” Ramona replied with genuine anguish before fixing her gaze on Sally, “You, young lady, have a fierce spirit inside you. I wish you all the best.”


“Thanks,” Sally replied, somewhat unsure, but she accepted it.


“I do have one question,” Ramona asked, her lips teasing up on one side, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”


A slow recognition spread over Sally’s face. Ramona waved a playful hand.


“It’s a trick question, because I don’t want you to answer now. I want you to answer it every day when you wake up. Will you do that for me?”


“Yeah,” Sally nodded keenly.


Ramona offered a sly wink and led them back out to the door. They thanked Ramona, who parted them with a heavy sigh, and they stepped back into the bright mid-morning sun.


Sally was cradling the trophy and folder along with the urn and didn’t seem keen to give them up.


“How was that for you, sweetie?” Tara asked gently as they walked back to the car, “We got a lot of information.”


“Yeah,” Sally agreed, slightly subdued, “It’s kinda weird. To never know stuff and then…find out. Like a little part of my brain I didn’t know was there got all lit up.”


She got into the car and strapped the urn up again.


“Can I have my phone?” she asked, quickly adding, “I wanna write something down.”


Tara glanced in the rearview mirror and decided it wasn’t the day for rigidity. She popped open the glove compartment and handed back the phone.


A moment later, Willow got in the passenger seat and lowered her voice to Tara.


“Eagle and the Eagle-ettes are T-minus 10. And uh, my classroom patch is working flawlessly, if anyone wondered. It just auto-emailed me notes all color-coded correct–”


She pursed her lips to stop herself.


“My insanity can wait.”


“Quirkiness,” Tara amended with an affectionate smile.


“Are they meeting us in the park?” Sally asked without looking up from her phone.


Willow and Tara turned their heads to the backseat.


“What?”


“Your Mom and Jeff and Donny,” Sally said, still without looking up, “Are they meeting us in the park?”


“You knew?” Willow asked, mouth hanging open.


Sally rolled her eyes.


“Your guys’ code isn’t as clever as you think it is. You two keep doing that spy-movie look at each other. Not as sneaky as you think.”


Tara and Willow shared a helpless little sigh.


“We thought it would be nice if all of your family were here, but we wanted to make sure it would be possible before we said anything. Is that okay?” Tara asked cautiously.


“Yeah,” Sally replied and rewarded them with a brief flash of her eyes and a somewhat shy smile, “Yeah, it’s definitely okay.”


She quickly looked down again, but the smile remained.


Tara slid into the driver’s seat, gave Willow a warm smile, and started the car.


“That principal was really nice,” she said as she buckled her seatbelt, “She really cared about Elena.”


Willow nodded.


“Oh yeah. And she’s got that whole ‘I just woke up looking effortlessly gorgeous’ thing going on.”


Tara’s hand froze on the gear shift. She looked over to Willow with a simple, silent eyebrow raise.


Willow’s eyes went wide.


“Wait, wait! Not like that! I was just talking about her sweater! It was super coordinated and very…confident-but-cozy, and I was appreciating her style. Strictly from a style standpoint!”


Tara blinked.


Once.


Twice.


Willow cringed.


“Forgiveness pass?”


Tara let the moment hang, then rolled her eyes with a small smile and shifted into reverse. As they drove off, she reached over and gave the back of Willow’s head a playful little squeeze to show her mercy.


The graveyard and community garden were clear across town, though in a place this small, ‘across town’ meant a four-minute drive past dusty fields and slow-moving tractors.


The expectation was for two distinct areas side by side, but actually, the garden ran through the middle of the graveyard. Nestled among weathered headstones and aging monuments, there were blooming flowers, raised beds with herbs planted, and a vegetable garden with greens ready to pull.


Little benches were littered around for people to sit, and small watering cans were abandoned in various locations. Bees hummed lazily among the yellow flowers, no threat, their buzz a low vibration in the warm, quiet air. Sharing the space, butterflies drifted in slow flight over the rosemary bushes, blending into the purple bloom and stirring the scent up into their nostrils.


A small wooden sign near the entrance read ‘In Memory, In Bloom’ and almost felt like an invitation to enter a sacred space.


Sally immediately walked over to the central bench, where she could see everything all at once.


Tara left her alone for a couple of minutes before slowly approaching. She was about to ask if Sally wanted to search for the grandparents’ graves when Sally spoke first.


“I think she should stay here.”


“Your mom's ashes?” Tara asked, somewhat surprised given how close Sally had been keeping the urn to her body, “You do?”


Sally hesitated before allowing herself to just breathe for a moment. Tara didn't push, and eventually, Sally spoke up again.


“Yeah. I have a home. She should get to be home too. With her family, in her favorite place,” she paused as she ran her fingertips over the cool metal of the urn, feeling every ridge and seam like the little bump in her head, “Nothing good happened when she left here.”


“One great thing did,” Tara nudged Sally’s shoulder gently.


Sally smiled softly.


“Do we…like, have to bury the whole thing?”


“We can,” Tara offered, “But we’d have to get someone official out here to dig. Or we can spread her ashes today. That way, she won’t just be with her parents, but with the bees and butterflies too. But it’s your Mom and your choice.”


Sally met Tara’s eyes.


“I like that. I want that.”


Tara offered a hug, and Sally closed it warmly.


“Sorry to interrupt.”


They looked up, and Jeff was standing over them. Tara glanced to the entrance and saw Willow chatting with her Mom and Donny.


Mostly just her Mom.


“Hi Jeff,” Tara greeted, standing and accepting a sidelong hug.


“Hi Tara,” Jeff returned and offered an affectionate squeeze, “Hi Sally. I hope you don’t mind me coming along today.”


Sally shook her head.


“Sally has just decided to spread her mother’s ashes today,” Tara advised Jeff with a silent raise of her brow to convey the significance.


“That’s a big and brave decision,” Jeff replied with fatherly warmth and sat where Tara had been, “Sally, I brought you something in case you decided to make that brave decision. You absolutely don’t have to accept it. But I thought you might like it.”


He reached into his shirt pocket and held out a gold necklace that had a cuboid pendant hanging at the end.


“They call it a memorial locket. You can put a few ashes in to keep with you, if that’s something you’d like.”


Sally looked at the swaying pendant, mesmerized.


“You can do that?”


Jeff laid the pendant in his hand and flipped open the top.


“We just use this little spoon here to put them in and then close it securely,” he popped it closed and ran his thumb over the side, “I had her name engraved, just in case. Even if you didn’t use it today, I thought maybe someday you might want to keep a piece of her close.”


Sally accepted it in her hand and looked at it in awe.


“Thank you,” she said, looking up at Jeff with deep affection, “Would you help me put them in and put it around my neck?”


“Of course I will,” Jeff replied, touched, and happily began helping her with the transfer.


Tara watched from a few feet away, also touched, but left them to it as they assembled it together.


She walked over to her mother and brother and gave them both a hug.


“Thank you so much for coming,” she said with a smile, “It means so much to both of us. And you, Donny. I know you must have had work.”


Donny waved a hand dismissively.


“Wanted to be here for the kid,” he said, his voice puffed with constrained emotion.


It wasn’t lost on Tara how different he sounded from the brother she grew up with, though the tension in his jaw was familiar.


“Is, uh…is he buried here?”


Not for the first time, Tara was glad she had no memory of her father. He really did a number on her brother and sister.


“I doubt it,” Tara shook her head with a soft reassurance, and Kimberly nodded in agreement.


“He had no connection here. I would imagine that godawful sister of his put him to ground somewhere closer.”


“Thank god,” Willow and Donny said in unison and gave each other a slightly uncomfortable look.


“Tara, Willow?”


Jeff’s voice carried across the garden, and when they looked over, he and Sally were standing in front of two graves. Everyone walked over and saw the names etched on the gravestones.


“These are my grandparents,” Sally announced, a calm resignation in her voice.


“Hello,” Tara greeted them, standing next to Sally, “You have a wonderful daughter and granddaughter. I’m sorry you didn’t get to meet her.”


She wrapped an arm around Sally, who looked up with slight trepidation.


“Do I just…?”


The urn was shaking slightly in her hands.


“Do you want to do it together?” Tara whispered softly.


Sally’s eyes flickered nervously before finally resting on Tara.


“Will you do it?” she asked, offering the urn reverently, “I…I wrote a poem. I’d like to say it while you do it.”


Tara nodded in agreement and silently motioned for everyone to gather around. She lifted the lid on the urn and tipped it gently. The ashes drifted down between the stones, seeping into the earth where Elena had once walked. The bees and the butterflies showed up as they had when she was alive, to guide her to her final resting place.


Sally took her phone out with shaking hands. The screen caught a glint of sunlight, but she tilted it away and began to read, her voice wavering at first before steadying with each word.


“Today I lay my mom to rest. With thoughts I never once confessed. I didn’t cry. I didn’t know what tears should mean, or where they go.”


She cleared her throat, and Willow came up behind her and put one hand on her shoulder in silent support. Sally took a deep breath and kept going.


“There was no face behind the name. No voice to hear, no one to blame. Just quiet, and pain, and not feeling whole,” she paused and glanced down at the grave, her voice falling to a whisper again, “A missing shape inside my soul.”


Her feet turned inward like she was cringing at her own words, and this time, it was Kimberly who put her hand on Sally’s second shoulder. Sally briefly glanced up between them and pushed up on her toes to straighten her feet.


“But now I know what family means.”


She felt more than saw the rest of them move to stand at her back, fanning out to surround and support her.


“It's grown from roots we’ve never seen. And just because you were not known…” she bent down and picked up a pebble, letting some ash dissolve on her fingers back into the air, “Does not mean yours were not sown.”


There was a deep, loud sniffle, and it came directly from Donny. Jeff clapped a hand on his back and squeezed his shoulder in a quiet show of manly support.


Sally reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded square, which unfolded into Elena’s picture. She placed it against the gravestone and used a few pebbles to stop it blowing away.


“They all say that I have your eyes,” she spoke directly to the picture, “So that part of you will never die.”


She stood up slowly, her phone by her side at this point.


“Today I’m laying you to rest,” she finished, every bit of tremble released from her voice as she gripped the locket pendant around her neck, “I’ll keep you with me in my chest.”


There was a quiet shuffle of feet, a few quick swipes at eyes, and gentle hands found Sally’s shoulders in a silent chorus of love. She glanced around, giving her familial half-smile, and scrunched her nose.


“Was it that bad?”


Huge laughter broke the air, and Kimberly bent down to kiss Sally’s cheek.


“It was absolutely beautiful, darling. You have your sister's way with words.”


There was a chorus of compliments and love, which Sally accepted and even returned some vulnerability.


“I feel funny.”


“Like how?” Willow asked, slightly concerned.


Sally lifted her nose to the air and inhaled.


“Like…free?”


The adults all exchanged heartwarming looks mixed with sorrow. Tara patted Sally’s back and pulled her into a sidelong hug.


“You know love will set you free.”


“Not just you,” Willow whispered from beside them.


“Is that what that brain tingle is?” Sally asked quietly.


The air seemed to hum a small tune around them, powerful in its heavy silence, and yet, Sally’s lips curved into a smile, and a warmth spread through her chest. She’d come to know this feeling as contentment and, more importantly, security.


And a little rumbley.


“I also feel hungry!”


More laughter, and Willow took the keys from Tara.


“What do you say we all go get some lunch?”


“Yeah!” Sally agreed, “Tacos?”


“Sounds good to me,” Donny agreed, and everyone else nodded.


Willow brushed a stray lock of hair from Sally’s face and smoothed it back. Her fingers skimmed the little bump from the ‘plate’ incident, and she gave it a gentle pat.


“You’ve always been tougher than you look,” she said quietly.


“Pfft,” Sally replied with a faux-cocky raise of her chin, “I’ve just always looked tougher than you.”


Tara bent down and brushed some hair from Sally’s brow.


“That was so brave.”


Sally just shrugged one shoulder somewhat bashfully.


“Sometimes there’s just words in my head.”


Tara nodded.


“How about we arrange to get her name put on this grave? Would you like that?”


Sally nodded quickly.


“Yeah, I would.”


“Would you like to stay a while longer?” Tara asked with a tender smile, “We can hang back while the others go to lunch, or I can wait in the car and give you some time alone.”


Sally looked at the grave, at her mother’s picture flapping in the butterflies’ path, and gently shook her head.


“No. I’m ready. I did what I hadta do.”


She nodded once definitively.


Her stomach groaned.


“And I really want some carne asada!”


She grinned, and Tara grinned back. She stood and put an arm around Willow’s shoulders to walk them ahead toward the car.


Sally watched the groups of people move forward, laughter and chatter mixing around her. She felt something stir inside her – like that feeling in her brain, but all over her body now. Beyond it, even, somewhere deep in her soul.


Willow put her arm around Tara’s waist.


“I’m so glad we did this. It was so important.”


“Worth blowing off classes?” Tara asked with an arched eyebrow.


“Definitely,” Willow replied, surprising herself even with her lack of hesitation, “If we hadn’t gone to the school, we wouldn’t have known about this place.”


“And you wouldn’t have met such an effortlessly gorgeous woman,” Tara teased lightly.


"She had a nice sweater!" Willow protested in a whisper, then saw Tara's smirk giving away her mirth, "That's mean. You know I'm already on edge with all the hooky and such."


"I do love a bad girl," Tara winked, and Willow couldn't help but blush and squeezed Tara’s hip.


She pressed a quick kiss on Tara’s cheek and lay her head on Tara’s shoulder.


“You’re the only effortlessly gorgeous woman I want. Or need. Or could even handle!”


Sally watched them, and though she would never admit it, or even knew it consciously, it healed part of her whole worldview every time she saw the love they shared.


Still, she couldn’t just let it stand without appropriate protest, so she ran forward to push through them and break them up.


“Break up the mushfest already!”


She turned to face them, walking backward, and giggled with her tongue poking out between her teeth.


Willow resisted the urge to stick out her tongue, only because they were in a graveyard, but did give Sally a quick tickle as she passed by in the parking lot.


As everyone loaded into their cars, Sally stood on the metal doorframe and looked back over the graveyard.


The bees still hummed, the butterflies drifted, and peace seemed to linger, woven into the sky above and ground beneath.


She would never know the part of herself she was leaving behind today, but for the first time in her life, she felt certain of her place in the family of things.

_________________
Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Dancing With Dimensions

Inevitable/Infinitely …Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

Dibs

So glad you are back writing. I've been checking periodically and was excited to see your posts.
Enjoying the story,
Thanks for writing.

_________________
Atlantic Antics Meeting Expectations
Learning to Laugh What I Discovered at Band Camp

Reading the scene with the spreading of Elena's ashes and Sally's beautiful poem had me fighting against tears on my commute to work...
The poem is really beautiful. Sally is a talented poet / writer. Maybe she'll become a professional writer in the future.



Finding a technical way to dodge out of playing hooky and get her different coloured notes is so adorably Willow!


Equal parts hilarious and adorable!




Poor Elena! It's sad to think that if she had stayed in her hometown and gotten the principal as her foster mother, she would have had a much happier youth and adolescense and probably would still be alive today but that would have prevented Sally from being conceived and born.


Great idea Jeff! Brilliant minds think alike...


Again and AWWWW!


I'm so happy for Sally that she got this closure!

taranwillow4ever —



Hi! Nice to see you!



Thanks so much I really appreciate it!

And thanks so much for commenting!

Will's redemption —



Aww, I'm sorry for the tears but glad to invoke such emotion!



I do like that for her! (I have a fun scene in my head years from now when she's a teenager and is all embarrassed because Willow finds out she writes fanfiction and Willow's like...hey, me too! )



She brushed off the ole science fair note-taking app and repurposed it!



Those things are so hard to reconcile. Like a terrible marriage, but you wouldn't change the kids for anything.



Indeed they do!



Very important for her and her healing!

Thanks so much for your feedback!

---

_________________
Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Dancing With Dimensions

Inevitable/Infinitely …Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

---

---

“Dawnie’s in for a sleepover!”


Willow hung up the call and smiled into the backseat of the car at Sally.


“But Mrs. Summers says it has to be tomorrow so Dawn can do her homework tonight.”


“I keep telling her to do it during school,” Sally said with an exaggerated sigh.


“That defeats the whole purpose of ‘homework’, sweetie,” Tara said, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.


“In Finland, they don’t have homework and have some of the best education outcomes in the whole world,” Sally said in a tone that suggested she’d had this argument with her teachers many times.


“They also eat salty licorice, so something’s going on there,” Willow replied, tapping her head.


After a successful lunch of tacos and Sally getting heaped with praise about her graveside poem, murmurings began to be made about heading home. On a whim, they’d decided to spend the weekend in Sunnydale since Tara had no shows scheduled until the following weekend, and they were able to get their Miss Kitty sitter to extend their time.


First thing on the agenda was a ‘Dally’ sleepover, and with that arranged, Willow was organizing some adult sleepover time too.


“Have you checked in with the gang?” Tara asked Willow as she took the exit onto the freeway, “Anya said she was doing board game night at the Magic Box this weekend.”


“Yeah, Buffy mentioned taking on the overnight shift just to avoid it,” Willow replied, proceeding to roll her eyes, “And where Anya goes, Xander must trail. I mean, uh, follow. I played the Game of Life once with that chick. Never again.”


She shuddered and glanced over to Tara, covering her hand on the wheel.


“Point is, guess it’s just you and me.”


Tara smiled.


“I’m okay with that.”


“Me too,” Willow squeezed Tara’s hand, “We could do Sunday pancakes so we get to see them though, if Ms. M doesn’t mind us taking over the kitchen.”


“Sounds good to me,” Tara agreed.


“Bish better have some chocolate chips,” Sally hollered from the back.


“SALLY!” came a unified voice from the front.


Sally held up her hands defensively.


“I said ‘bish’! Besides, I go to school in Hollywood, what do you expect? Last week, they closed off our science lab to film a movie called 'Science Bitch'. I didn’t even get to finish my elephant toothpaste.”


Both Willow and Tara began to speak at the same time.


“I expect you not to call your sister a bitch–”


“Don’t call Willow a bitch–”


Willow and Tara paused to look at each other for a long second before nodding in sync.


“Don’t call anyone a bitch,” they said in unison.


“I won’t as long as they have chocolate chips for my pancakes,” Sally muttered, then smiled to herself, “Ooh, and maybe sprinkles.”


Willow immediately slipped her hand into her pocket and started typing furiously.


“What are you doing?” Tara whispered.


“Looking up books on raising teens,” Willow whispered back.


Tara frowned.


“She’s not even 12.”


Willow muttered under her breath, raising an eyebrow.


“Tell that to her attitude.”


“I can hear you dumbasses,” Sally scoffed.


Tara changed lanes so she could slow down for a moment. She looked into the backseat.


“Excuse me, young lady, we give you a lot of leeway because we know you’re smart, but you don’t get to call us names like that. Please give us back the respect we give to you.”


Sally shifted uncomfortably.


“S-Sorry.”


Tara’s cheekbones pulsed with tension, so she stabbed at the button to turn on the radio.


“Okay, we have another three hours in this car, so what do you say we turn on some tunes?”


A familiar voice was singing.


“Hey, it’s Nate,” Willow said, her tongue clicking in front of her teeth as she lowered her voice, “With the song he wrote about you.”


Tara glanced at Willow, her mouth in a thin line.


“Willow.”


“I already knew,” Sally chimed in.


Tara’s eyes widened.


“Willow!”


Willow threw her hands up.


“I’m getting name-checked a lot here for someone who didn’t do anything!”


“It was soooo obvious when we met him in Vegas that he wants to smooch you,” Sally said.


Tara raised her hand and flicked the station.


“Stop it, both of you. Nate’s my friend, and we don’t talk about people we care about like that.”


Sally knew when to bow out and quickly turned toward the window and silently grabbed her backpack to hide out with her headphones.


Willow scooted down in the seat and brought her screen up in front of her.


She changed her search to ‘best ways to grovel’.


The rest of the drive passed with intermittent music and talk radio, but soon enough, the familiar ‘Welcome to Sunnydale’ sign flashed by the window.


By the time they pulled into their street, the car still humming with half-finished conversations, there was no chance to tie up any loose ends.


If they thought life in L.A. was chaotic, Sunnydale had its own special brand of overwhelming.


Barely an hour into their visit, Willow and Tara were tugged in opposite directions – quite literally, in Willow’s case, as Ira insisted she come over for Shabbos dinner with the promise of making matzah ball soup.


At the same time, a bunch of Kimberly and Jeff’s friends were dying to finally meet Tara and Sally, dragging them into what sounded like an extended tea-and-interrogation session.


Tara had almost said no.


Kimberly usually wasn’t one to ask for this kind of thing – probably because she hadn’t had a real ‘friend group’ until Jeff came along – but the look in her eyes had been too hopeful to ignore. So Tara politely bowed out of dinner with Willow and Ira, and instead spent the evening sipping herbal tea, fielding a barrage of well-meaning (but exhausting) questions about everything from her job and her life to her favorite kind of crystals.


Still, there was something sweet about the way Kimberly kept beaming, and even Sally had behaved like a perfect angel, mostly because Tara let her play her Switch in the corner as long as she answered intermittently when asked.


It was draining, sure, but worth it, just to see her mom looking proud. Tara had to admit that Jeff was every bit as good for her mom as Willow was for her.


On the Saturday evening, Willow knocked on the Maclays’ door, slightly weary. Kimberly answered with a requisite Maclay smile.


“Hello Willow,” she greeted, standing aside to allow her inside, “Did Sally get off to her sleepover okay?”


Willow nodded.


“Yeah, Mrs. Summers had all kinds of goodies laid out. Glad I won’t be dealing with that sugar crash.”


“She really loves that they’ve forged such a good friendship,” Kimberly said as she closed the door behind them.


Willow bobbed her head in a nod.


“We do too. Sally has a couple of pals in school, but it’s a different vibe. Nice to see her have a real support group here outside of just us.”


Kimberly smiled again.


“Well, Jeff and I are going to eat some of his vegan jambalaya and watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. There’s plenty if you want to join.”


“I’m hoping to take Tara out on a little date,” Willow turned her feet in and stood up on her toes for a moment, “Save me some, though? It smells great.”


Kimberly raised her chin slightly.


“Answer me one question.”


“Sure,” Willow agreed easily.


Kimberly tilted her head, her tone walking the line between maternal and teasing.


“Should I be expecting you back tonight?”


Willow blushed and began to ascend the stairs.


“Enjoy your date night, Ms. M.”


She watched a wry smile form on Kimberly’s lips as she shook her head and moved back toward the kitchen. Willow got to the top of the stairs and, unusually, hesitated outside Tara’s closed bedroom door.


Before she could do anything, the door opened. Tara stared at her for a moment before speaking.


“Hey.”


Willow blinked; the faintest flicker of surprise softening her expression.


“Hi.”


Tara stood aside, and Willow stepped inside, her hands fidgeting nervously with the hem of her sleeve. She hadn’t expected…well, she wasn’t sure what she expected, but the quiet between them made something inside her tighten. She opened her mouth to speak, but Tara beat her to it, answering the unasked question.


“I felt you.”


Willow’s breath caught.


Not I saw you. Not I heard you. Not even I sensed you.


I felt you.


The words struck a chord so deep she could almost hear it ring inside her.


Tara closed the door behind them, and Willow moved further into the room, settling herself on the edge of the desk chair, her back ramrod straight with tension.


“Feels like I haven’t seen you all day,” she said.


Tara tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.


“You had breakfast with your parents. Hung out with Buffy at lunch.”


Willow’s eyes widened.


“I wasn’t accusing,” she said quickly, “You just…last night, when we went to bed, you felt kind of far away. So I guess I felt like I didn’t really see you.”


Tara just nodded, accepting it.


“Mom had her friends over, and let’s just say they put the old Jewish Bubbe’s at your synagogue to shame with the question-asking,” she said with a small smile and mocking tone, “Do you remember any of your past lives? When’s the last time you had a heart-to-heart with the moon? Does your partner honor your spirit?”


Willow giggled.


“I think the only time the Bubbes talk about the moon is to complain about their vacation homes,” she said and affixed an exaggerated accent, “They can send a man to the moon, but they can’t make a decent kugel in Florida!”


Tara’s lips curled up on both sides, and she laughed gently into her chest.


The sound made Willow feel like her heart was soaring. Slowly, she met Tara’s eye and arched a gentle eyebrow.


“How’d you answer that last one?”


Tara didn’t break the gaze.


“Yes, she does. She sees me, not just who I am now, but all the parts I’ve hidden. She listens, even when I’m quiet. When we're together, I feel whole, like I don't have to shrink or explain myself away. She respects the sacred in me. She holds space for my truth and doesn’t try to change it. She doesn’t just honor my spirit, she elevates it and holds me safe all at once.”


Willow stood up straight.


“Tara…”


They both took two long steps and met in the middle. Their lips met before their hands could even touch. They interlocked fingers, holding on to each other as tight as they could, not letting go.


They kept kissing. It was intense, it was passionate, and it was, above all else, love.


Truly and forever.


When they parted, their foreheads rested together, and they just breathed together for a moment.


Willow pulled Tara gently to her and kissed the bridge of her nose.


“What is this funkiness?” she asked through a sigh, “I know I upset you in the car. I shouldn’t have been so glib. I’m sorry, Tara. You know I’m not jealous of Nate or care that you have a friendship. I’m grateful for all he’s helped you. I just, y’know, can’t help but notice that someone else is singing a love song about you. But it’s not something I want you to be this upset about.”


Tara shook her head lightly.


“It’s not about Nate.”


Willow blinked.


“It’s not?”


Tara didn’t answer, but Willow nodded anyway, her voice soft.


“It’s not.”


She tugged gently at their joined hands and led Tara to the edge of the bed. They sat, still close, knees almost touching.


“So what is it?” Willow asked.


Tara hesitated, her fingers curling around the hem of her sweater.


“It was Sally. The way she reacted to the conversation in the car. I forget, sometimes, that we’re not just in this little us-bubble. She’s watching us. Learning from us. And she’s becoming ‘someone’, fast. And then I remembered…she doesn’t have her mom.”


Her voice wavered.


“She never will. That broke me a little bit.”


Willow’s hand found hers again, warm and grounding.


“She should’ve had her,” Tara whispered, “And she didn’t. And now it’s us. I’m so grateful we get to love her. To raise her. But sometimes I wonder…how can I ever…”


She trailed off.


Willow’s gaze softened.


“Be her?”


Tara nodded, then added in a breath.


“Or you.”


Willow’s head tilted.


“Me? What are you–Tara, what the frilly heck are you talking about?”


Tara looked away, cheeks coloring.


“You’ve been…so good with Sally. Calm. Strong. Confident. Like this warm, glowing lighthouse when things get stormy. I don’t always feel like I can be that for her. I just feel like you have this power that surpasses me sometimes.”


Willow laughed.


“Okay, you’re thinking of my evil twin from another universe. She’s confident, has green hair, red eyes, and goes by 'Wolliw’.”


Tara gave a soft chuckle, but Willow leaned in, brushing her thumb along the back of Tara’s hand. She was silent for a moment as she processed everything Tara had said.


“You really don’t think you can live up to me?”


“Is that so hard to believe?” Tara asked, voice barely above a whisper, “That someone might look up to you?”


Willow didn’t respond right away. Her smile was gentle and quiet when it came.


“You’re not just ‘someone’. Or even just someone I love or who loves me,” she said, “You’re where I go when I don’t know what to do.”


She paused.


“Where would you go? If you felt lost and alone? Where would you go?”


Tara didn’t hesitate.


“To you.”


Willow’s eyes shimmered.


“That’s what I do, Tara. In here…” she tapped her temple, “I go to you.”


Tara looked down, then smiled through her tears.


Willow wrapped an arm around her.


“Hey, don’t think I’m not panicking inside. I want Sally to have what I didn’t have growing up. That feeling of safety. And you – you give that to me. So I figure, if we can give that to her, everything else is just logistics.”


Tara leaned her head against Willow’s shoulder.


“You make it look so natural. And you are, you’re a natural at this.”


“I never thought about kids before. I could barely take care of myself, let alone a tiny human,” Willow said softly, lying back on the bed, “But I do remember when we were little, and we played house? Remember, we’d take turns with that janky baby doll?”


Tara curled in beside her.


Willow opened her arms, and Tara settled into the space like a heartbeat finding rhythm.


“It felt so right,” Willow continued, “I know we were just babies ourselves, but when people talked about ‘family’, I would picture you and our little janky baby. It all seemed so easy.”


Tara smiled, lips brushing Willow’s collarbone.


“Well, it helped that no baby doll had to come out of anyone’s who-ha.”


Willow laughed.


“That definitely kept things serene.”


Tara grew quiet for a moment.


“I think I’d like to be pregnant someday. In a very…far future kind of way.”


She propped herself up on her elbow.


“I’ve also always thought about adoption. Especially since Sally. Have you ever thought about that?”


Willow looked up at her, eyes soft.


“As long as they’re your babies, I don’t care where they come from.”


Tara patted Willow’s shoulder.


“Our babies,” she said, “Our very, very far-in-the-future babies.”


Willow’s chest warmed at the words. She brushed her fingers through Tara’s hair and kissed her slowly, savoring the moment.


When she finally pulled back, her lips curled in a grin.


“So…confession time. I had this whole woo-ing plan for tonight…Fancy dinner, maybe dancing…romance 101.”


Tara smiled, eyes still closed.


“I am well and truly wooed.”


Willow looked at her lips again, as if unable to resist their pull.


“In that case…”


Her eyes sparkled.


“I think I have a better idea.”


And that better idea involved Sunnydale's finest hotel, the lure of fluffy robes, and takeout pizza.


“We have tasted food all over the world…but there’s nothing like a double pepperoni with extra mushrooms from Mr. Smith's.”


Willow lifted her small toothbrush glass, filled with dark liquid, and held it out to clink with Tara’s.


“Washed down with cherry cola.”


They shared a giggle.


“I have to say, this idea was inspired,” Tara said as her mouth worked on a piece of pizza and she tried not to let any stain the hotel robe, “Skipping to the end of the date night with pizza. We get to luxuriate and be total slobs at the same time.”


Willow lifted a piece of pizza from the box, stretching the cheese as far as it would go.


“I was going to take you to this little French restaurant where they apparently do this great dessert where they soak the pears in brandy, but this is better.”


Tara’s nose scrunched curiously.


“When did Sunnydale get a French restaurant?”


“Best kept secret in town, apparently,” Willow murmured, “Buffy went on a date there.”


Tara smiled softly.


“I’m glad she’s dating.”


“Me too,” Willow agreed as she scooted closer to Tara on the California king, “But I’m gladder we’re right here.”


They shared a somewhat greasy kiss before Willow grabbed the TV remote.


“So what are we watching? The hotel's most up-to-date selections in pay-per-view include…Bridesmaids, The Lincoln Lawyer, or…the ultra-modern She’s All That.”


“I’m impressed it’s not just Casablanca and porn,” Tara replied with a crooked smirk.


“Oh, those are here too,” Willow grinned back, “You want 'Missionary Impossible' or 'Around the World in 80 Lays'?”


“That last one sounds like they followed us traveling,” Tara pursed her lips to contain laughter.


Willow’s cheeks turned pink, and she giggled.


“Before I scar myself for life by clicking the wrong thing, I’m putting on Bridesmaids.”


It didn’t really matter what they watched; it was just background noise to snuggle to.


Snuggling led to kissing, which led to a very necessary joint toothbrushing, because double pepperoni lost its charm when it lingered.


As Tara set her toothbrush down, Willow’s restraint snapped. She slid an arm around Tara’s waist, spun her, and pressed her back to the wall just outside the bathroom. She tilted her head and leaned in, bringing their lips as close together as they could possibly get without touching. She let their breath mingle, then gently nipped Tara’s bottom lip.


An involuntary moan fell out of Tara’s mouth as she gathered Willow’s face up in her hands and kissed her fiercely. Her hands fell to Willow’s rear, which she cupped through the robe and slid up to Willow’s waist.


They came around and she pulled the tie on Willow’s robe free and then used her grip to tug Willow even closer.


“What do you want to do?” she asked with a sultry half-grin.


Willow licked her plump lips as her gaze flittered between Tara’s eyes and mouth.


“Sooo, um, I was…kinda hoping maybe sex was, y’know, on the table? But no pressure, obviously!”


Tara smirked, enunciating her words as she pushed Willow forward with each step.


“On the table…On the floor…on the bed…wherever you want.”


Her last push put Willow on the bed, and her robe fell open as the sides slipped loose. Tara climbed on top and allowed her own robe to slip past her shoulders, leaving her naked.


“But I meant anything special since we have a bit more…freedom.”


Willow’s eyes roamed Tara’s body atop her.


“Really, as long as your boobs are in play and I get to make you feel good…I’m a very happy Willow.”


Her gaze lingered just shy of Tara’s belly button.


“Very happy.”


Tara trailed a finger between Willow’s breasts.


“A woman of simple needs.”


Willow’s hips squirmed between Tara’s thighs.


“If ‘simple’ means ‘urgent’ and ‘intense’.”


Tara dropped her head and licked where her finger had been. Shivering with the intensity of her nipples tightening, Willow’s hands slid down Tara’s hips and cupped her rear, squeezing in a bid to release some of it.


Tara licked and nipped her way up to Willow’s neck, where Willow promptly grabbed Tara’s cheeks and pulled her into a steamy kiss. She rolled Tara onto her back, flicked back her arms one by one until they fell out of the robe, and kicked that to the floor while she scooted them up to the pillows.


Tara’s legs bent to help Willow slip out of her robe, and it resulted in a delightful slide of thighs between them. They both groaned, and Willow pressed her thigh further in, like she could soak up every bit of Tara’s need and keep it for herself.


“You feel so good already,” Willow breathed into Tara’s ear as her hand followed the curve of Tara’s side, making her skin prickle with desire.


Tara’s hand flattened on Willow’s collarbone and slid up to her neck, tilting Willow’s head so she could land her lips on Willow’s mouth. As their kiss grew hungrier, so did their hands as Tara cupped Willow’s breast between them, rubbing her palm over the hard nipple.


Each brush of fingers on skin was like a mini lightning bolt until there wasn’t a spot left not sizzling. Life was busy, their walls were thin, and the opportunity to fully allow themselves to truly forget the rest of the world was slim.


Tonight, all that existed was each other.


And they couldn’t get enough.


Every inch of bed was rolled over, and every inch of skin was plastered with kisses and caresses until Willow lost herself between Tara’s thighs, savoring everything she gave her.


As Willow’s short fingernails lightly scratched along Tara’s hipbone, she heard the pitchy little moans float down from above that set her heart, and other parts, racing. She brought her tongue up and started to bathe Tara’s clit when suddenly Tara’s legs clamped together, and there was a tug on her shoulder.


Slightly dazed, Willow lifted herself up on her forearms, where Tara, brow sweaty and eyes dark, held Willow’s chin and brought her index finger around Willow’s mouth.


“You want a treat?” she asked so breathlessly that Willow only just heard it.


Willow glanced down and up again, eyes shining with confusion.


“W-well, yeah,” she replied, unable to deny the hum of her body, “But…you didn’t…did you?”


She’d been way too up close and personal to have missed it.


Tara brought her hand to her own mouth and sucked her index finger between her lips.


“I thought you’d like to watch.”


Willow’s brain boing-ed like a spring doorstop had been flicked inside it.


Tara’s hands curved over Willow’s hips, cupped her bottom, and rolled her onto her back.


“I’ll take that as a yes.”


She sat back into Willow’s lap and spread her thighs, waiting with her palms splayed over Willow’s abdomen.


When Willow just continued to stare, Tara gently lifted her wrist.


“I need you to do a little bit of the work, sweetie.”


“God, yes,” Willow snapped to, grabbing Tara’s thighs to pull her down before sliding two fingers through her slick lips to position themselves inside.


Tara’s fingertips pressed against Willow’s ribs as she lifted her hips and dropped them again onto Willow’s fingers. She gasped softly and repeated the motion, growing faster as Willow slapped and squeezed her thigh with the other hand.


Willow’s eyes couldn’t stay still, drinking in every contortion of pleasure on Tara’s face; the bounce of her breasts; the straining of her ink-covered rib cage; and the absolute beauty of watching herself disappear inside Tara.


This wasn’t a treat, it was a revelation. Every arch of Tara’s body displayed her vulnerability and showed Willow her complete trust and surrender.


It was so tender and so, so hot.


She heard those little moans again and fixated on Tara’s face, needing to see that moment she went over the edge that she was denied earlier.


Tara threw her head back, and Willow felt herself gush uncontrollably. She quickly sat up straight and pulled Tara’s thighs around her hips so she could feel the immense heat pooling between them.


She felt Tara’s thighs start to quake, and their eyes locked as Tara rested her forehead on Willow’s; the gentleness so heart-wrenchingly intimate.


Willow felt Tara clench inside first, then up her body until her eyes flittered closed with a sharp, hitched breath.


They both were still for a long moment before Tara exhaled again, pulling Willow’s head between her breasts in the process.


Tara spent a moment catching her breath, then looked down, pulled Willow’s face back up, and planted a kiss on her lips.


“Sorry,” she said breathlessly.


Willow looked like she’d just been woken from a dream she wasn’t sure she was still in.


“Oh yeah, that was terrible for me,” she said with exaggerated sarcasm and a small, teasing smile, “Never push me into your boobs again.”


Tara giggled, but it only made Willow moan. She started kissing Tara’s neck.


“Your laugh is so sexy. I could listen to you laugh forever.”


Tara held her hand around the curve of Willow’s head, pressing Willow’s lips into her skin. She moved her thighs to make sure they weren’t like jello and pressed her chest against Willow's for that delicious, tight squeeze.


Willow moaned again, and while Tara knew it was satisfying for her, Willow’s tone was one of need.


Tara reached between them and slid her fingers into Willow’s arousal. Willow’s hips immediately responded, and Tara found herself entering her in one quick movement.


“Oh yes,” Willow moaned as she pumped her hips, “God, Tara, take me. I need you so much.”


Tara slid her fingers out and rolled them up over Willow’s clit. Willow’s thighs widened as much as they could under Tara, and she dropped her mouth to suckle on Tara’s nipple. She gave it a small nibble, which ignited a fresh energy in Tara.


She pushed Willow back onto the bed and lay on top of her, pulling Willow’s legs around her waist. Willow wriggled so far along the mattress that her head dangled off the edge, bumping lightly against it with each thrust. She barely noticed, too wrapped up in the way Tara was moving inside her with relentless, breathtaking rhythm. Tara’s whole body heaved on top of her, touching and grinding in every spot she needed as their bodies pressed together again and again.


Willow felt utterly wild; far more than any al fresco fucking or dizzying drug-fueled debauchery could produce. Just Tara, loving her with an intensity and security nothing else could ever touch.


Her heels dug into Tara’s ass as the burn between her legs started to rise higher.


“God, Tara, I’m gonna…”


She bit her lip as her legs tightened. Tara filled her fully on the next thrust, and Willow’s head smacked loudly against the mattress.


“Yes, yes, yes!”


Stars burst in front of her eyes, which were trying to make sense of the upside-down table and curtains in her vision. Before she had even stopped blinking, she felt a sudden cold as Tara’s body lifted away from her.


She gasped in surprise, but Tara had her, holding her down so she didn’t fall.


And then an eager tongue was doing its bit to hold onto her tender flesh, and Willow’s head was thrashing from side to side again.


It only took seconds this time until she was crying out again, and then seconds again for her to jerk in such a way that she ended up in a heap on the floor. Tara dove to catch her, but just ended up right beside Willow with tousled hair and a smeared mouth.


They both looked at each other, blinked, and burst out laughing.


“Okay, I have officially lost all motor functions. You’re going to have to reboot me,” Willow leaned in and kissed away the glossiness around Tara’s mouth, then continued to pepper kisses all over her face.


She pulled back just enough to meet Tara’s eyes.


“I love you so frickin’ much.”


Tara grabbed Willow’s cheeks and pulled her in again, kissing until they regained use of their legs.


“There’s pizza left,” Willow said as she picked the box up from the floor and brought it onto the bed while gesturing at the closing beats of the movie still playing, “And look, they’re making up!”


“I hope so, that's the best part,” Tara grinned crookedly.


Willow scooted back into Tara and covered them with the blanket.


“Now I know why they say the best things are free.”


Tara kissed the crown of her head.


“The very best.”

_________________
Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Dancing With Dimensions

Inevitable/Infinitely …Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

woooo! lovely update! and so hot, too thank you Laragh!!!!

_________________

Glad Willow and Tara had a chance to spend some private time together in between everything going on!

I approve that they called Sally out on her rudeness and truly admired how Tara executed respectful authority in that one statement. (Although I have to criticize that it was pretty risky of Tara to not look at the traffic during the time it took her to utter those sentences...)


AWWWW!


AWWWW³!!! Tara rocks at poetic love delarations!


It's probably normal that each of them has her doubts about her own parenting ability and sees the other as the better parenting figure for Sally. I think they're both doing great.


Yay to the "very far in the future"-babies plan!


I can't imagine Spike taking Buffy to a cosy french restaurant so I guess this unhealthy affair hasn't started yet?


Yay that both of their needs were very thoroughly satisfied!


Lucky that they are still young and with healthy bones, otherwise this double fall from the bed could have really hurt!


I'm glad that they made the best out of their date night.

teeth —



Happy to supply

Thanks so much for commenting!

TheBigPineapple99 —



One sure thing in this universe: the inability of these two to keep their hands off each other

Thank you for commenting!

Will's redemption —



Perhaps 'glanced into the backseat' would have been more accurate!



It's the songwriter in her!



Me too!



You know I can't resist a W/T baby!



Not yet!







They always do

Thanks so much for your feedback!

---

_________________
Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Dancing With Dimensions

Inevitable/Infinitely …Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

---

---

“Willow?”


Willow looked up from her Advanced Computational Biology textbook and had to blink several times to focus herself.


She never wanted to be that up close and personal with a genome again.


Except maybe Tara’s.


She bet Tara’s genome was the cutest little string of base pairs.


She smiled to herself, thinking about it, before remembering she’d been called.


“Yeah, kiddo?”


Sally was lying stomach-down with her own textbooks spaced out in front of her. She had her chin resting on her upturned palm and was frowning.


“Is it the ‘S’ or the ‘C’ that’s silent in the word ‘scent’?”


Willow blinked slowly, then narrowed her eyes.


“You been getting into Miss Kitty’s catnip?”


Miss Kitty meowed from her bed, seemingly offended at the insinuation that she would supply a minor.


Sally sighed dramatically, dropping her forehead onto the nearest textbook.


“My brain is fried by math.”


She rolled over and looked up at the ceiling.


“What’s it called when they give you steak but it looks like it’s from KFC?”


“Chicken-fried steak?” Willow guessed.


“Yeah,” Sally exhaled, “I have chicken-fried brain. Except the chicken is math.”


“I’m sure that’s not true,” Willow replied, leaning her crossed arms on the table in front of her, “In a class of 30 students, 18 play basketball, 12 play soccer, and 7 play both. How many students play neither sport?”


“Also 7,” Sally replied in a bored tone.


Willow grinned.


“What is the smallest positive integer that leaves a remainder of 1 when divided by 2, 3, and 4?”


Sally rolled back over onto her stomach.


“13.”


Willow gave her a pointed look.


“How many kids in this room need to give themselves a break because they’ve got this?”


Sally pursed her lips unsurely.


“You always say you can’t study too much.”


Willow raised an eyebrow.


“Since when do you listen to me?”


Sally couldn’t argue with that.


“Az really wants to win the Mathlympics. She thinks people won’t think she’s weird anymore if we do. I told her they don’t have varsity Math at our school, but…”


“If you can’t be cool, be smart,” Willow quipped, “Every nerd’s mantra of mass delusion.”


“I’m not a nerd,” Sally rejected harshly, kicking herself up into a sitting position.


Willow paused and leaned back in the chair.


“Do you want to win?” she asked, and Sally didn’t answer, “Do you want to look cool?”


Sally just rolled her eyes.


“I don’t want to go to the stupid summer camp, that’s for sure. Az is obsessed. I told her it’s like boot camp but with calculators. She seemed to think that’s a good thing.”


“The MOSP is pretty prestigious,” Willow reasoned carefully, “But we’re not going to make you go if you don’t want to. It’s nice you’re willing to do this to help your friend get there, though.”


Sally sighed dramatically and rolled onto her back.


“Just hit me with another one.”


Willow nodded, accepting the pushback on her questions.


“Circle area is 49π. What’s the diameter?”


“14,” Sally looked at Willow the same way the other Jewish kids in Hebrew school looked at her that one time she accidentally said ‘moozle’ instead of ‘mazel’, “Are you even going to try and stump me?”


Funnily enough, being on the receiving end of the look by Sally filled her with an odd sense of pride.


For once, she actually recognized the feeling of liking herself and her nerdy inclinations.


And she liked who she was to this kid.


“Okay, hotshot,” Willow said with a somewhat cocky grin, “Solve for x: the square root of two x plus nine, minus the square root of x minus three, equals 3.”


Sally’s mouth opened, then shut. She flopped back down with a groan.


“You win.”


Willow smiled affably.


“X equals fifteen plus six root three. But that wasn’t really fair. I was way older the first time it was asked on a quiz, and I had to chew on it for a while. Try this one out for size. I have a number in my head. If I multiply it by 3 and subtract 5, I get the same result as if I added 7 to twice the number. What’s the number?”


Sally had to think about that one. Her eyes moved back and forth as her brain conjured the numbers, and suddenly she straightened up, all excited.


“12!”


“Ding, ding,” Willow held up her hand for a virtual high five, “That one’s an old classic. Bet they’ll keep recycling it until the end of time. And you got it even quicker than I did the first time. Now, do you believe me that you’ve got this and can take a break?”


Sally stood up.


“Can I have my phone? I want to text Aaron and make sure he’s still coming.”


“Sure, you’re finished your homework,” Willow went to retrieve Sally’s phone from the drawer it lived in, “So Aaron is gonna come this weekend?”


She tried to sound airy, but Sally obviously picked up on it because she just grabbed her phone and ran into her bedroom.


Willow dared say she saw a blush.

---

“I always wanted to come to the Mathlympics.”


Tara folded her legs beneath her seat on the bleachers at the local high school and looked at Willow in surprise.


“Why didn’t you?”


“They don’t let one-person clubs attend,” Willow sighed deeply, “And everyone else in Math club only came to get tutored. Usually, by force, by Principal Snyder.”


Tara recalled the pressure Willow put herself under in doing the Science Fair and thought maybe it was best she had been ruled out of this one.


“So is this your version of being a pageant mom?” she teased lightly.


Willow grinned.


“Yes, but instead of twerking my booty, I’m twerking my parietal lobe.”


Tara leaned in, nudging Willow playfully with her shoulder.


“Trying to turn me on?”


Willow blushed and sneaked a quick kiss on Tara’s exposed shoulder.


“Maybe it’s just as well. My soul is spiralling in frozen fractals all around after watching Sally freak out this past week.”


She paused to glance at Tara, who was smirking at her wording.


“Don’t judge. We’ve been watching Frozen to destress.”


Tara put her hand on Willow’s thigh and slid it down to take her hand.


“You’ve been wonderful,” she whispered affectionately, pulling Willow’s gaze toward her, “You’re giving her all the help and love you needed at her age.”


Willow’s eyes were glassy as she matched Tara’s smile. She felt a little bit of her heart heal.


She couldn’t wait to tell her therapist.


She closed her hand around Tara’s and squeezed it, feeling a sense of joy and longing and security about the life they had built and would continue to build.


“Oh, are you Sally’s parents?”


A man’s voice broke through their reverie, and they both looked up.


Two middle-aged men were about to sit next to them, one with salt-and-pepper hair and a firm expression, the other a carefully dyed brunette in perfectly draped designer clothes. He was the one speaking to them. His hand gripped a white leather satchel worn over his body, and the other extended toward them.


Willow responded first.


“Um, yeah, kinda,” she said, awkwardly half-rising to shake his hand, “I’m Willow, this is Tara.”


The man shook her hand and then Tara’s, appraising them with his eyes.


“I’ve seen you on the school run. We’re Aaron’s fathers.”


His look conveyed a lot about how he found their clothing – a perfectly lovely if loud combination of fuzz and colorful jeans – but he was hardly the first one to send judgment their way.


“Lee,” he said with a palm against himself, then put a hand on his partner’s shoulder, “Robert.”


Robert lifted two fingers in a greeting but was fixated on the still-empty stage.


“Is Aaron not with you?” Tara asked, glancing around to see if she would recognize him.


She didn’t collect Sally from school as much as Willow did, but she’d spotted Sally walking away from the boy a few times.


“He met the girls in the lobby,” Lee explained, wiping the seat under him before he sat down, “They’re showing him around backstage.”


“Sally was really pleased he wanted to come,” Tara tried to maintain the conversation, “It’s nice to have support.”


“Aaron was very insistent,” Robert spoke up for the first time, his voice as dour as the look on his face.


“I think he’d like to be up there himself, but unfortunately, he’s inherited his father’s dyslexia for math,” Lee added, flicking the back of his hands against Robert’s chest.


“Dyscalculia,” Willow supplied, then gulped when two hard faces stared back at her, “Um. Is what that’s called.”


Lee just smiled in a similar way as he had earlier and turned his attention to the stage.


Tara huddled close to Willow to whisper as quietly as possible.


“Do they hate us?”


“I don’t know,” Willow whispered back, “We’ve waved before. I never sensed hostility in the wave, but my track record on wave analysis isn’t strong. Just last week, I waved back at someone who was, in fact, not waving at me.”


They sat close enough for their thighs to touch; a small move for security, feeling stronger as two than apart.


A short while later, a familiar boy Sally’s age jumped up the steps two by two and came to sit in front of them. Lee fussed with the collar on the boy’s shirt.


“Hey, Aaron,” Willow greeted first with a small wave.


“You’re Willow, right?” Aaron asked as he twisted out of his father’s grip.


Willow nodded.


“Yeah, and this is Tara.”


Tara waved too. Beside them, Robert fixed a gaze on the boy.


“Aaron.”


Aaron went red under the collar.


“Sorry. Umm, should I call you Mrs. and Mrs…?” he asked carefully, glancing at his dads as if checking for approval.


“Just Willow and Tara,” Tara offered with a gentle smile.


Robert's lips pursed into a thin line.


“We’ve taught Aaron to be respectful of his elders.”


Willow started skipping over her words, suddenly flustered.


“Oh well, we’re not…we don’t…”


“It’s what Sally calls us, so it’s okay,” Tara reassured.


Willow nodded quickly.


“Yeah, we figure less of the honorifics when there’s less than a decade between us and the kids.”


“Oh, thank god,” Lee clutched his chest, startling the other two, “I thought I was going to have to sell my soul to Satan to get your skincare routine, but you’re just good old-fashioned young!”


“You didn’t know?” Tara asked with a raised eyebrow.


“Well, you have a middle schooler,” Lee replied with a pointed look.


Tara didn’t appreciate the judgment in his tone.


“She’s my little sister. We have custody.”


Lee rolled his eyes toward his son.


“Getting information out of him is like asking a chorus girl to improvise Sondheim,” he said, then spoke out of the corner of his mouth as Robert summoned Aaron over to sit, “Honestly, I’ve been thrilled he found a friend. Elementary was not the most social time for us.”


“Oh?” Tara’s brow was sweating with the pained interaction.


Lee leaned over even more, holding his hand in front of his mouth.


“Bob can be…selective on the pals he lets come over,” he explained with an exaggerated glance over his shoulder, “All work and no play makes Aaron a bully boy if you know what I mean.”


Willow and Tara shared a look.


It wasn’t exactly news, given how the friendship with Sally started, but Sally had told them he was all bark and no bite.


“Couple of tough talks before 6th grade,” Lee continued, slapping his thigh, “And hey presto, he has a friend!”


Both Aaron and Robert looked over at that. Tara quickly looked away from Lee.


“Did the girls show you around?”


Aaron shook his head.


“Az started freaking out again, so her mom made me go away.”


Tara looked at Willow with a crease in her brow.


“Maybe I should check on Sally.”


“She told me to tell you…” Aaron started to speak, then glanced at his parents and back at Tara, “That she’s fine.”


“I’m guessing that’s not the verbiage she used,” Willow forced a smile.


Aaron shook his head.


“No, ma’am.”


“Appreciate the diplomacy, kid,” Willow replied and shared a brief look with Tara.


“Ladies and Gentlemen, please be seated as the competition is about to begin.”


The voice came over the speaker system, and the parents scattered about found seats or focused their attention forward. In the wings, Azalea’s mother’s head would pop out every so often from the curtain until someone escorted her to sit in the front row as the first set of kids took their seats at opposite desks on stage.


The morning was…long.


Twelve schools competed in a long round robin leading to quarter-finals, then semis. The hours dragged, but Sally held her own through every round.


Sally seemed kind of bored as they played through the teams, but Tara spotted her foot tapping anxiously beneath the table.


Willow was very much the pageant mom, and it brought Tara endless joy and a new way to love her. Instead of song lyrics, Willow mouthed equations and jumped in delight when Sally would answer correctly, even when it brought a glare from the moderator.


Tara thought it was far better than the anxious energy Azalea’s mother was giving off and made no effort to rein her girlfriend in, especially when she saw Sally crack a quick smile once or twice when she glanced up at them.


She didn’t notice it was Aaron who was returning the smile.


They got to the quarters, then the semis, and then the final after a nerve-wracking functional equation solve that Azalea buzzed in with seconds before the opposing team.


A break was called before the final round, and everyone made their way out to the foyer to stretch their legs and get some of the weak coffee that was offered.


While his Dads were distracted by trying to decline the coffee as politely as possible, Aaron slipped away back to the auditorium to find Sally.


He spotted her filling up her water bottle and waved. She smiled and waved back, indicating for him to come over. They slipped out the back to avoid getting more involved in Azalea and her mother’s anxiety.


Sally liked the girl, but she was a lot more fun when they were just talking about Lego construction or penguin habitats.


They found an open dressing room backstage and hid out in there to avoid the various kids and adults milling around everywhere outside.


Sally sat in the corner and gulped on her water.


Aaron sat beside her, sitting on his hands. Sally glanced at him but didn’t scoot away.


“Um…” Aaron started, staring ahead, “You’re really good out there. Once they say more than one number, it’s like someone flips my brain with a spatula and makes it sizzle like a grilled cheese.”


Sally looked down bashfully.


“For me, it’s like the numbers start holding hands and dancing, like the treats in that old-timey movie theater commercial. I see how they’re supposed to be and how it all makes sense.”


Aaron slowly turned his head.


“You’re so cool,” he said slightly breathlessly.


Sally copied him until their eyes met. A long second later, their lips pressed together, neither sure who was the one who actually moved.


An endless moment later, they parted, eyes and mouths lingering open.


Then Sally’s face scrunched, and she dramatically wiped her mouth.


“Ew!”


Aaron started coughing into his elbow.


“Double ew!”


Sally swiped her sleeve over her mouth to get any residue off.


“You taste like mouldy bubble gum.”


She really hadn’t experienced much more than smelling his breath, but it stuck.


“That’s my toothpaste!” Aaron exclaimed.


“Change it!” Sally bit back.


Aaron covered his mouth with his hand and breathed into it to check.


“Well, you tasted like rotten milk.”


“I had yogurt for breakfast,” Sally replied indignantly, “Excuse me for being cultured.”


Aaron paused, then broke out in a grin.


“Heh. Cultured, like yogurt?”


Sally burst out in laughter.


“I didn’t even mean that!” she giggled, then tentatively offered her hand, relieved the kiss wasn’t lingering in either taste or emotion, “Friends?”


“Definitely,” Aaron shook ardently, “And can I come over to yours sometime? Now my Dads met your Moms, I think they’ll let me.”


“They’re not my moms, gross,” Sally’s nose scrunched, “And yeah, sure. If you bring your cool controllers, so we can play Kirby.”


“Deal!” Aaron agreed eagerly.


A voice crackled over the PA system, then calling for people to return to the stage. Sally’s eyes widened.


“We gotta go!”


They both jumped up and went out the nearest door, bringing them the long way back to the foyer.


“Sally, there you are,” Willow said when she spotted them, “C’mon, they gave a five-minute warning.”


“Sorry,” Sally and Aaron said in unison, blushing slightly as they did so.


“Where were you?” Robert asked sternly.


Sally and Aaron glanced at each other.


“We went to the vending machines,” Aaron said.


The adults looked at their hands for candy, of which there was none.


“But they only took dollars,” Sally said, sensing the look.


“A-and we only had quarters,” Aaron finished, nodding definitively.


Lee rolled his eyes.


“Why these things don’t take Apple Pay in this day and age…”


Robert’s frown deepened, but he said nothing more as Tara put a hand on Sally’s shoulder.


“Are you hungry, sweetie?” Tara asked.


“I have granola bars,” Willow offered, opening the flap of the satchel across her body.


Sally shook her head.


“No, I’m good.”


“I’ll take one,” Aaron said, biting the corner of his lip, “My, uh, mouth still tastes like toothpaste.”


Sally had to dig her teeth into her bottom lip to stop from laughing.


“We, uh, gotta go! Don’t wanna get disqualified!”


She sped off back toward the auditorium with everyone else on her heels.


“Good luck, kiddo,” Willow called gently as Sally hurried off to the stage.


Sally just smiled back with a thumbs up and took the empty seat next to Azalea, who was trying to sharpen her six pencils to the same height.


The stage lights felt hot on Sally’s face, and the faint smell of wood polish mixed with the tang of sharpened pencils affected her nose much more than Aaron’s sickly-sweet toothpaste. Somewhere, a sneaker squeaked against the gym floor, and it annoyed her far more than it should.


The final was the definition of nail-biting. Each team traded off answering correctly with a few near-misses when the opposing team would answer incorrectly and vice versa.


Finally, with scores tied, it came down to the last question.


“There exists a number. If I multiply it by 3 and subtract 5, I get the same result as if I added 7 to twice the number. What is that number?”


Willow gasped and grabbed Tara’s thigh. Tara’s eyes shot to Willow in surprise, but then back to the stage immediately as Sally pounded the buzzer so hard it rattled off the table.


“12, 12! The answer is 12!”


“That is…correct!”


The whole auditorium erupted in applause.


Well, actually, it was Willow, Tara, and Aaron jumping up and hollering with polite clapping by everyone else, but as far as Sally was concerned, the whole auditorium erupted.


She turned to Azalea, who seemed shocked.


“Az! We won!”


Azalea slowly turned her whole body to Sally, eyes wide.


“Now we have to go to Sectionals.”


“Well, yeah,” Sally replied with an arched eyebrow, “That was the point of winning.”


Azalea swallowed deeply.


“But now we have to go.”


“We don’t have to,” Sally replied with a one-shoulder shrug, “It’s not, like, a law. Don’t worry. We’ve got this.”


She sped away at lightning speed, and Sally sighed, shaking her head.


She made her way up to the bleachers, passing Azalea’s Mom, who was speeding after her.


“Darling, remember what you’re working toward. A spot at the MOSP!”


Aaron scrunched his face up, overhearing as he moved down a few steps to meet Sally.


“You’re doing this for a bug?”


“The MOSP, not a wasp,” Sally rolled her eyes, “It’s the Math Olympic Summer Program. If you place high in this competition, you get a spot there for the summer.”


“What about you?” Aaron asked with a raised brow.


Sally shrugged.


“She really wants it, and no one else would do it with her. It’s not like I’d actually go. Math during summer? No, thank you.”


“With you there,” Aaron bobbed his head in a nod, “I think your Moms want to see you.”


Sally slapped his arm.


“Quit calling them that!”


A few steps above, Willow and Tara were bouncing with pride but obviously trying not to embarrass Sally.


“You did amazing,” Willow said, squeezing her two palms together to contain herself.


“We’re so proud of you,” Tara added, putting an arm around Sally’s shoulders, “Let’s go get lunch, wherever you want.”


Sally glanced to the side at Aaron speaking to his Dads.


“Can we just bring something home?”


“If…if that’s what you want,” Tara replied unsurely, looking to Willow, who shrugged.


“And can Aaron come over?” Sally asked, biting her lip, “If his Dads are okay with it?”


Willow again shrugged in Tara’s direction.


“Sure,” Tara agreed.


“We can get In-N-Out,” Willow suggested.


They approached Aaron and his Dads, and it was agreed that Aaron could come hang out for the afternoon. He would go get his game controllers and be dropped off at their apartment and picked up later.


While waiting at the In-N-Out drive-through, Tara looked at Sally staring out the backseat window. She raised an eyebrow at Willow, who did the same back.


“It’s nice that Aaron came out to support you,” Willow turned her head to the back.


“Yeah, it’s nice to have a close…friend,” Tara added, inching slowly forward every minute or so.


There was a small lull of silence before Sally spoke up.


“Is it a thing to be friends with someone you’ve kissed?”


Tara was glad the car was stationary, and Willow was glad she had the seat under her to grip onto.


“Sure,” Tara replied, as casually as possible, “Is that something that happened today?”


Sally pursed her lips, then gave a decisive nod.


“Yes. But it was icky. Icky to the 10th power,” she added with a dramatic nose scrunch, “That's a lot of ick.”


“It is,” Willow confirmed with a serious nod.


Sally kind of threw herself back against the seat. She stared out the window for a moment, chewing on her lip, before blurting out:


“Does this mean I don’t like boys? Because I definitely don’t want to kiss Az either.”


“No,” Tara said gently, though she hesitated like she wanted to pick the exact right words, “It just means you don’t like Aaron that way. That you’re better as friends.”


“Exactly,” Willow jumped in too quickly, her voice softer now, “You’re figuring it out. And you’ve got…lots of time. And friends are great.”


“Very important,” Tara concurred, “Friends are the best.”


“Some of my best friends are…well, friends,” Willow said, grimacing at how silly it sounded, “But yes, you can kiss a friend and realize it’s not right. If you don’t have feelings for each other, you can still be great friends.”


She dropped her voice to a whisper and looked at Tara.


“I’m saying ‘friends’ a lot.”


She tried not to shudder, remembering her failed attempt at straightening herself out with Xander. She had no intention of mentioning it, but she knew Tara was remembering too by the way her mouth turned down in displeasure.


Sally slumped a little in her seat, staring out the window.


“I guess I thought…it’d feel different. Like…special or something.”


Willow glanced at Tara, who gave the smallest nod.


“It will feel different. When it’s with the right person,” Tara said quietly.


“Or maybe you’re just not into kissing yet,” Willow suggested, “There’s no timeline. Some people never like it.”


“Can you two become those people?” Sally asked, deadpan.


“Haha,” Willow rolled her eyes and reached back to pretend to flick Sally.


“Do you feel weird about it?” Tara asked gently.


“About you two kissing?” Sally raised her eyebrows, “Very weird.”


“About your first kiss,” Tara clarified softly.


Sally shook her head, then hesitated, her gaze fixed on the blur of buildings out the window.


“Nah. I’m just glad he still wants to play Kirby,” she said, but her voice was quieter, thoughtful, “I guess I thought…it’s just not as big a deal as I thought.”


Willow’s chest ached, remembering how much weight she once gave to her first kiss in all the wrong ways. She hoped Sally’s emotions would settle lighter.


A beat passed before Sally spoke again, more brightly.


“Will you get my fries animal style?”


Willow and Tara exchanged a smile and proceeded to place their order through the speaker when it was their turn.


The car filled with the greasy, mouthwatering scent of fries as Willow passed the bag back to Sally and told her to keep it sealed until they got home to keep them fresh. Sally’s stomach rumbled, even as her mind still replayed the awkward kiss, and the more she thought of it, the more it made her laugh.


Aaron was already waiting in his dad’s car when they got home, and the two kids were quick to set up the gaming system on the TV between shoving fistfuls of messy fries in their mouths.


It was nice to hear the childlike frivolity in the apartment, but both Willow and Tara went to sit in the bedroom since elbows and onions were flying in the vicinity of the couch.


From the bedroom, they listened to the laughter and game sound effects drifting down the hall. Willow reached for Tara’s hand, giving it a soft squeeze.


“They’re okay,” Willow murmured.


Tara nodded, leaning her head on Willow’s shoulder.


“They’re more than okay. She’s more than okay. Experiencing these milestones. And you know, I think we'll be okay, too. Even if we can never be her mother, we can be who she needs. You and me.”


Willow tilted Tara’s chin and brushed her lips softly over hers, lingering just long enough to feel Tara relax beneath the touch.


“What was that for?” Tara whispered.


“For making sure my first kiss was with the right person,” Willow murmured, tucking a piece of hair behind Tara’s ear.


Their foreheads touched, breath mingling. Tara’s hand slid to the back of Willow’s neck, drawing her into a deeper, slower kiss – one that spoke of the years they'd had, the ones to come, and the promises and quiet knowing of that future together. When they finally parted, Willow’s smile was soft and her eyes shone.


“And what was that for?” she asked, voice hushed.


Tara’s nose nudged hers, light as air.


“For proving the right kiss always feels special.”


She left the softest and tenderest of chaste kisses on Willow’s lips, letting the moment last a heartbeat longer.


“And for making sure my last kiss will be too.”

_________________
Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Dancing With Dimensions

Inevitable/Infinitely …Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

Dibs. Great chapter, loving it that you are writing again.

_________________
Atlantic Antics Meeting Expectations
Learning to Laugh What I Discovered at Band Camp

Yay that they chose the "math classic" Willow taught Sally as the final answer and that despite the stress of the situation Sally immediately recognised it!




AWWW!
I guess that apart from the math teachers present Willow might have been one of a few or maybe the only adult in the audience who was able to understand and solve those math problems.


Another moment of Willow being adorable! And yay for them physically uniting against (possible) judgement or dislike from Aaron's fathers. I guess that those two just felt uncomfortable and bored at this math contest they got dragged to by Aaron - or was attendance mandatory for the parents of all students, not just the contestants?


Poor Az. I suspect that she is emotionally pressured by her mother, feeling she has to participate at and win the Sectionals.
And Az's mom didn't even cheer after they won - because it was Sally instead of Az who solved the final problem? I'm sure that Willow and Tara would have also cheered if Az had given the correct answer (maybe not as enthusiastically, but still).


I'm happy that Sally feels so secure in her relationship with Tara and Sally that she immediately confided in them and sought their advice on the "failed first kiss-matter".


Another perfect chapter ending with a promise to "until death do us part"!

taranwillow4ever —



Thanks so much and thank you so much for leaving a comment

Will's redemption —



I do love a callback



Have you seen those parents of geniuses? They're worse than the pagent moms!



They came because Aaron came and Aaron came because Sally was there!



I imagine Az to be a single mother with a, um, quirky kid and high anxiety. I feel like the mother reacted in response to Az's reaction which was just...more anxiety. But I'll make it all work out for them



Such an important, quiet moment!



And beyond!!

Thanks so much for your feedback!

---

_________________
Amber Benson killed me once.

Check out my finished fics

Love, The Series … Two For Joy/21+/Joy To The World … Dancing With Dimensions

Inevitable/Infinitely …Confidential Eternal … A Twisted Date … Dachsund Through The Snow

---

---

“Tara, can you sign this?”


Willow pushed a form across the table, opened to the last page. Tara clicked her pen and signed beneath Willow’s name without looking away from her textbook.


“You didn’t even look,” Willow protested, “I could be stealing your entire estate.”


Tara still didn’t look up.


“I don’t have an estate. And you control our accounts.”


Willow frowned.


“You should still read everything you sign.”


“That’s what I have you for,” Tara finally looked up with a too-sweet smile, “Of course I look at things I sign, Willow, but not when you ask me to. I trust you.”


Willow couldn’t help but smile at that.


“I’ll getcha one day with that.”


Tara smirked and picked up the papers.


“What is the oh-so-important document?”


Willow answered before she could read anything.


“Sally’s quarterly development report.”


“I read this last night in bed,” Tara replied, flicking the papers back into order before her eye caught something, “But the date is printed wrong on the front here.”


Willow took them back and peered at them.


“No, today’s the 7th.”


“Yeah, but this says the 12th,” Tara pointed to a second date printed.


Willow brought the page closer to her face. Her eyes suddenly widened.


“Wait, that’s not today’s date, that’s Sally’s date of birth. That’s–”


Her head flew up.


“This Saturday!”


She dropped the papers, which Tara promptly picked up to examine again.


“How did I miss this?!” Willow exclaimed as her fingers flew across her computer keyboard, “I put everything in our shared calendar back in January and – dammit!”


She dropped her head into her hands.


“I mixed up the month and date! It’s in for December!”


Willow’s chest tightened. Sally hadn’t mentioned her birthday once, not even a hint. The thought that she might not expect anyone to notice made Willow’s heart ache.


“This isn’t on you. We should have it drilled into our brains,” Tara soothed gently as she sank down into her seat, “What are we going to do? She’s probably never had a birthday party in her life. We can’t let her down on the first one with us! Should we bring her to Sunnydale for a big family dinner?”


Willow dragged her hands down from her face.


“You’re doing back-to-back shows this weekend.”


“Cancel them. She’s more important,” Tara replied without hesitation.


Willow paused, heart twisting at Tara’s readiness to drop everything, before shaking her head.


“I know that. She is. But these are regular bookings and letting them down at the last minute would look really bad. It could affect your whole trajectory moving forward and I’m hoping you still might be asked to–”


“Okay, okay, I get it,” Tara held up her hands, “We still need to put food on the table.”


Willow watched her press her forehead into her palm, shoulders sagging, and it broke her heart.


“She’s gonna be 12, she probably doesn’t wanna do a stuffy family dinner anyway,” Willow tried to reason, “What if we throw a party in the daytime here in the city? Invite all her classmates?”


“We could even make it a surprise,” Tara offered quickly, “Kids love surprises.”


“Ooh, yeah, a surprise party!” Willow lit up, “I bet she’s never had one of those!”


Her enthusiasm was merited, but it was hard to join in.


“We need to figure this out, but I don't have time right now. I have to go to class,” Tara mumbled as she gathered her books, “I have so many assignments due and I’m barely keeping track of them.”


Willow came over and cupped Tara’s cheeks.


“I’ll take care of this.”


Tara couldn’t help but lean into the touch.


“We’ll talk more about it later, but we have to make it good. She deserves it.”


Willow nodded.


“We will, I promise.”


Tara kissed her cheek and left for the car.


Willow quickly returned to her laptop to try to clear some time for research.


Later that night, Tara hung her robe on the back of the door as she closed it behind her.


Willow was sitting up in bed, glasses on, all business. She didn’t look up as she spoke flatly.


“Remember how I spent fifteen years hating myself and completely emotionally suppressing my feelings for you, almost destroying the life-changing love I’ve gotten to experience by sharing my soul with you?”


Tara sank down to sit on her side of the bed, hesitantly looking over her shoulder.


“…yes?”


Willow snapped her laptop lid shut without any of her usual reverence.


“Even that was easier than dealing with a middle school parents’ group chat.”


Tara swung her legs into bed and covered Willow’s hand with her own, stroking her thumb over Willow’s comfortingly.


“I thought we muted all of that after the Great Avocado Debate.”


“Don’t remind me. All guacamole broke loose,” Willow said as she shuddered before looking over to Tara, “I made the mistake of asking if anyone had any last-minute party venue ideas.”


“That seems like a pretty safe question,” Tara replied, gently arching an eyebrow.


“You would think,” Willow said with a grimace, “And yet…”


Willow flung open her laptop and showed Tara the screen.


Lots of laugh emojis, one person claiming they’ve been planning their child’s sweet 16 for two years already despite them only being 12, one suggestion for a ‘wellness hike’ as a ‘climate neutral’ party idea, and another to rent out a Beverly Hills house for the day, for the mere price of $20,000. Finally, one lone voice suggested cupcakes in the park, which turned out to be Azalea’s mother, and Willow appreciated the sanity dearly, but she wanted to do more.


“We do live in West Hollywood, darling,” Tara soothed gently, “I think we’re both tired and not thinking with our best brains. Let’s sleep on it, and we’ll figure it all out tomorrow. Okay?”


“‘Kay,” Willow agreed, mostly because she felt exhausted after sending emails all day trying to find a free kid-appropriate venue.


She left her laptop on the nightstand, and she and Tara settled down to sleep.


The next morning, after letting Sally ride to school on her bike, Tara signed into her online school portal for the day so she could stay home and help with arrangements.


At that moment, Willow’s phone lit up with a ‘bing’ and she quickly picked it up, before scowling and dramatically tossing it down.


“This is pointless! Every birthday venue in this town is booked until July!”


Tara reached across the table and gently twined their fingers together. When Willow looked up, full pout face in effect, Tara just offered a tender smile.


“There's no one else I'd rather waste my time with.”


Willow resisted, but the smile appeared. She looked at Tara sheepishly.


“Okay, Willow-cooldown in process.”


Tara scooted around and gathered Willow’s head under her chin, kissing the top of her head.


“My little Will-cle-ar reactor.”


“Stop,” Willow mock protested, then looked up with more pout when Tara dropped her hands, “No, don’t stop.”


Tara cuddled Willow again, who accepted the comfort and wrapped her arms around Tara’s torso.


“Why don’t I – oh my god!”


Willow straightened up in alarm.


“What?”


A little pop-up notice had appeared on Tara’s screen.


“Oh no,” she breathed, eyes widening, “I completely lost track. I have an exam today in person! Fifteen percent of my grade. I can’t believe I let it slip my mind.”


“Can you make it?” Willow asked as she jumped up to help Tara gather her things.


Tara checked her watch.


“Maybe, if the stoplight goddesses are good to me.”


Willow bundled everything into Tara’s bag and placed it across her chest.


“Go, go.”


Tara quickly grabbed Willow’s cheeks and pulled her in for a quick kiss.


“You are a rockstar. You’ve got this. I trust you.”


Willow rocked on her heels slightly as she ran Tara’s words around her head, a sudden brainwave coming to her.


She had an idea.


It would require a lot of humble pie, but she’d do it.


For her girls.

---

Willow had it under control.


That was what Tara kept telling herself as Willow reassured her it was the truth, but was being decidedly cagey about what ‘it’ was. Tara had been tasked with getting Sally a gift, and Willow would deal with all the party details.


Tara knew she’d essentially handed over the power to get to her exam on time, which she had thankfully attended and passed, but she felt a little out of the picture with how everything was going.


Which is what led Tara to wander around the mall on her free afternoon, trying to find presents to make up for all of the previous years of drought. She’d already bought a ‘snack-n-stream’ bowl that had a ridge for her phone to sit on while holding chips or candy, some fun socks, a glow-in-the-dark t-shirt, and basically whatever else she could find at Spencer’s Gifts, but nothing that really said ‘wow’.


Her mother had already told her she and Jeff had various art supplies and magic kits, and Donny was bringing some new games for her Switch and a promise to take her out for a day.


Another hour bagged her an instant camera and a giant stuffed capybara, but this just weighed her down and forced her to return to the car without something that she felt really shone.


As she turned the key in the ignition, she stared at them for a moment and she realized what she was looking for. She pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the hardware store she knew beside her old place of work.


At home, Willow scowled at her computer.


For a group of parents, the group chat really was so childish.


Okay, so an ‘adventure zone’ might not be as sophisticated as the youth of West Hollywood were used to, and yes, they would have to actually venture past Santa Monica Boulevard, but it was a kids’ party.


They didn’t have to openly mock her party ideas.


One woman even accidentally sent a message to the group instead of a private chat, asking who the hell Willow was and if the group chat had been ‘hacked’.


Willow was very much tempted to show her what hacking could really look like, but she’d save that energy for her Tai Chi class.


They’d all be singing her praises when she pulled off her surprise.


Not that that was the point.


Sally having a kick-ass party was the point.


But that didn’t mean she couldn’t relish a little smugness.


Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough.

---

Willow’s fingers tapped against her coffee cup.


They had a plan.


Tara was going to take Sally out to distract her for the morning while Willow set up the party.


Willow had a hundred and one excuses to give, but Sally didn’t even ask. Just that if Tara was going to take her shopping, she wasn’t trying on any pants, and only sweaters she could pull on over what she was wearing.


It made Willow sad that she had so few expectations for her birthday. She hadn’t even brought it up.


As she tapped, she heard her phone start to ring from where it was charging in the bedroom. She thought Tara might get it, but heard the bathroom door click, so she went in to answer it instead.


“Hello, Willow speaking,” she said and realized how tired she was when she yawned halfway through, “Sorry.”


She listened for a moment and nearly dropped her mug.


“WHAT?!”


She was awake now.


A few moments later, she was gripping the phone so tightly that her fingertips were going white. Tara walked through the door, wiping her hands on her jeans.


“What’s wrong? I heard you scream.”


Willow indicated to close the door, which Tara did.


Willow threw her phone on the bed and started pacing.


“Disaster! At the trampoline park!”


Tara paused, waiting for more.


“Is that a new band I haven’t heard of?”


“What?! No!” Willow threw her hands up, “The trampoline park! Where the party is happening!”


Tara bit her lip to not react too harshly.


“Willow, you never told me where it was. I didn’t know it was happening at a trampoline park. Were you trying to keep it a surprise for both of us?”


Willow sank onto the bed.


“It’s not happening at all now.”


Tara came to sit beside her and hold her hand.


“What happened?”


“A pipe burst,” Willow placed the heel of her hand against her forehead, “The foam pit is saturated. The springs in the walls are clogged. The trampolines go squelch instead of zoom! It’s like the freakin’ Titanic in there!”


Tara gently rubbed Willow’s back, trying not to visibly react to the slight overreaction.


“It was a really cool idea, sweetie,” she comforted.


Willow threw her hands up.


“What the hell are we gonna do now? I don’t think she’s even expecting a party. She’s been so let down before. We can’t do that to her, too.”


Tara bit her lip.


“Could we bring the kids back here? Get a load of junk food and play music and stuff?”


“We barely fit us in here,” Willow replied with a shake of her head, “And I don’t want to give those pompous parents any opportunity to judge us more.”


Tara blew out a slow breath.


“Well, I don’t know how we’re even going to find an empty room at this short–”


She stopped suddenly. Willow watched her for a moment, eyes widening.


“I know that face. I love that face. That’s your ‘I'm-going-to-make-everything-better’ face. Please tell me that’s the face!”


Tara made her way to the door.


“I’ll be right back.”


A minute later, Willow spotted Tara’s head outside the window as she spoke on the phone and couldn’t help but feel totally overcome by her beauty when a ray of sunshine hit her face, despite her ongoing internal freak-out.


Her eyes followed Tara from one window to the next and continued naturally to the door where she expected her to come through. She heard the front door open and close, and then sure enough, Tara appeared. Willow recognized she was acting very much like the little lost puppy, but what did Tara expect, having that face?


“I called Deli’s,” Tara whispered as she closed the bedroom door behind them, “They have a function room and it isn’t booked. It’s literally just a room with tables and a big TV. We’ll have to put up the decorations and bring food and party games.”


Willow stood and exhaled, taking it in.


“Okay, okay. The trampoline park was supposed to provide all of that, but I’m guessing nobody wants soggy cake. I can, uh, raid Ralphs,” she replied as she mentally mapped her route to the supermarket, “Maybe get myself some Xanax while I’m there.”


Tara took Willow’s hands and leaned in to press a kiss on her forehead.


“I also thought maybe we could do a silent disco,” she suggested, “I can bring the decks and I can borrow headphones from Deli’s. That way, we won’t disturb anyone in the restaurant.”


Relief washed over Willow’s face.


“Genius! And then we’ll have the music gear set up for–” she caught herself, fumbling, “Uh, the birthday song. Just the birthday song.”


“Well, not a whole band, but I’m sure we can manage a decent rendition,” Tara replied with a crooked smile.


“Hah! Funny. You’re…funny,” Willow chuckled nervously, before quickly adding, “I love you.”


Tara cupped Willow’s cheek and rubbed her thumb gently over her collarbone.


“I love you, too, sweetheart,” Tara said as she leaned in and kissed the bridge of Willow’s nose, “Do you think you’ll be able to handle set-up?”


“Call me plasma,” Willow quipped with a resolute grin, “Because I form under intense heat.”


There was a beat, and Willow cleared her throat.


“That means yes, I can handle it.”


Tara smiled.


“That’s my girl. Do you need a list?”


Willow shook her head.


“I just have to reroute the guests, buy decorations, source a cake and food, and make sure to call–”


Again, she had to bite her tongue and think on her feet.


“Out the mayor.”


Tara blinked.


“What?”


Willow raised her chin defiantly.


“I don’t like his new proposal on traffic.”


Tara nodded slowly.


“Think that could possibly wait, honey?”


Willow dropped her chin.


“Yeah, yeah, no, I can…I can do that on Monday.”


“Plan is still on?” Tara asked, holding up two thumbs at chest height.


“Yes,” Willow agreed, with a bob of her head.


Tara took the keys from her pocket and pressed them into Willow’s hand.


“You’ll need the car. I’ll take Sally to the farmers market instead, and you just text me when you’re ready for me to bring her over.”


Willow closed the keys in her hand and smiled.


“She’ll be relieved you’re not making her try on school clothes.”


Tara’s lips pursed unsurely for a moment.


“Do you think it’s weird she hasn’t mentioned her birthday at all?”


“I’m guessing she never got much celebration,” Willow replied sadly.


Tara nodded somewhat forlornly at the thought.


“I want to celebrate her all day. But do you remember her reaction at Christmas?”


“We don’t have to keep it hush-hush if you don’t want?” Willow asked with an arched eyebrow.


“That kid is so astute,” Tara said through a small, puffed-out breath, “I’d love to knock her socks off just once.”


Willow wiped her palms gently on her pants.


“No pressure or anything.”


Tara offered a wink.


“You’re a rockstar, remember?”


She kissed Willow’s cheek and went back to the living room to bring Sally out. Willow leaned back against the door and exhaled.


“I certainly have access to one.”


She waited until she heard the door click and began her list of tasks: texting the parents to let them know about the change of venue.


She was sure they’d at least be happy that they were staying in WeHo, but no one bothered to respond right away, and Willow had things to be getting on with, so she was left on read.


She got to the grocery store along with all the other Saturday morning shoppers and started scouring the aisles for Cheetos, M&Ms, and paper plates.


It wasn’t the veggie-stick, chickpea-flour-enhanced, coconut water menu the venue was providing, but circumstances had changed. Surely the Asshole Parents’ Club had had a Twinkie once in their lives?


For balance, she threw in a charcuterie platter.


As she turned onto the bakery aisle, the starkness of the empty shelves hit her like a bullet. There wasn’t a single cupcake to be seen.


“What the frilly heck?” she asked out loud.


“The district is doing a bake sale,” a nearby worker answered Willow’s unasked question before muttering under her breath, “God forbid anyone bake something themselves.”


“Credoodle!” Willow exclaimed, gripping the push bar on the cart tighter, “I’m going to have to go to another store.”


“Good luck,” the store worker said to her, shaking her head, “I hear a weekend Dad threatened to shoot up the store on Manchester Ave this morning because they gave someone else his cheesecake bites.”


Willow let out a whimper.


“Double credoodle!”


She didn’t have time to go driving all over the city looking for cake.


“At least tell me you have party decorations?”


“Aisle six,” the lady droned in a monotone.


“Thanks,” Willow replied with a mix of panic and flatness as she considered something from the frozen aisle.


She panic-bought anything and everything she thought she might need and piled it all into the car to drive over to Deli’s.


Knowing the staff from Tara’s days as a host and subsequent days as a DJ, she went in the back door and checked in with the manager, who showed her to the function room.


Willow’s heart dropped as she walked in.


It really was just a room with chairs.


No activities, games, or arcades like she had originally booked. Drab, muted colors, but it was clean, she could give it that. Plus, the bar had hooked her up with an ice machine for drinks.


“Thanks!” she feigned enthusiasm as she tried to calculate exactly how many balloons she would need to blow up to have this place at least whisper ‘birthday party’ if not scream it.


She made her way back to the car to haul in the first of her bags when she heard her name being called out.


“Willow!”


Willow looked up and saw Kimberly walking toward her. Kimberly lifted her sunglasses on top of her head and waved.


“Got your message and the venue address. Figured you could use an extra pair of hands. What happened to the party?”


Willow pouted.


“I didn’t ask for the specifics, but I’d guess either corrosion or fatbergs from the yuppie moms and dads flushing wipes.”


Kimberly looked blank.


“Pipes burst,” Willow clarified.


Kimberly nodded and looked into the bag Willow was carrying.


“Well, I see chocolate chip cookies and gummy bears. I’ve seen plenty of parties get by with a lot less!”


“Buffy tried to throw a party with just pretzels and beer once,” Dawn piped up from seemingly out of nowhere but actually from behind Kimberly, who she looked up at with wide eyes, “…I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that.”


Kimberly just winked that the secret was safe, and Willow gave the young girl a hug.


“Thanks for making the journey, Dawnie. Sally will be psyched.”


Dawn closed the hug with a smile.


“Buffy was bummed she couldn’t come.”


“She’s working night and day lately, huh?” Willow asked gently.


“When she’s not moping in bed,” Dawn replied, then looked around, “So where’s the party?”


Kimberly lifted a less-full bag for Dawn to carry and instructed Jeff and Donny behind her to do the same.


“Do you think I can make a cake with ice-cream sandwiches?” Willow asked meekly as they walked back inside, “Or donuts? That's a thing, right?”


“Donut towers go down a treat at meetings,” Donny said while Kimberly just gave a reassuring smile.


Willow started to blow up balloons while Kimberly and Jeff unpacked the food and got it set up with drinks and cups, and Donny hung some things on the wall. Dawn was charged with setting up some of the board games.


“Does Sally have a particular love for olives?” Jeff enquired as he laid out yet another charcuterie platter, making a red-faced and puffing Willow snap.


“I did my best, okay?!”


“Uh, Willow?” Donny said hesitantly as he held up a banner, “Did you mean to get one that says ‘Happy Retirement’?”


Willow released the balloon she was holding.


It squeaked and sputtered around the room, deflating in the same pathetic spiral as Willow’s whole spirit.


Jeff picked it up when it finally landed.


“You know what? I have a tire pump in the car that would make this much easier.”


Willow went over to Donny and desperately tried to turn the word ‘retirement’ into ‘birthday’.


“If I rip the arm off this ‘t,’ it’s a ‘1’…and if I twist the ‘r,’ kind of looks like a ‘2,’ right? She’s retiring from childhood!” Willow insisted, using her gum to stick it in place, “See? Happy 12! See?!”


“I’ll fix it,” Kimberly offered with a placating smile.


Willow just sank back against the wall and buried her face in her hands.


“Oh well. Isn’t this…quaint.”


Willow’s head shot up. She saw Lee and Robert walking in with Aaron, who was holding a gift.


Lee continued to look around distastefully.


“Is this like, a bus station?”


Willow blinked. She was about to ask if he’d ever seen a bus station before, but she guessed she already knew the answer.


“It’s a kid’s party,” she replied deadpan, hoping he’d pick up on the shaming in her tone.


Jeff appeared from behind and put the tire pump against Lee’s perfectly ironed Dolce & Gabbana shirt.


“Make yourself useful there, good man. We have a special little girl to impress.”


“I’ll help!” Aaron offered enthusiastically as he put his present down on one of the tables, “You think we could make the balloons into a hippo shape? She’s going through a hippo phase.”


“We could make a pink hippo,” Kimberly suggested, and Aaron hurried Lee over with the pump.


Willow saw Robert smile for the first time ever.


Not long after, Azelea appeared with her mother, neither of whom looked down on the venue, though the mother had her requisite expression of anxiety.


“So glad you made it!” Willow said as sweat started to bead on her brow that there were so few people filling, or rather not filling, the room.


“My mom only told me about the party this morning, so I didn’t ruin the surprise,” Azalea said with a steady bob of her head, “I speak when I shouldn’t.”


“Me too,” Willow replied with an understanding smile.


Azalea nodded.


“Sally told me.”


She walked off to go to Aaron, who was working on the tail, leaving Willow flummoxed and frowning.


“Willow, have the girls been held up?”


Willow turned to Kimberly, who looked very like Tara with her hair tied up in a messy bun, reminding Willow of how young she still was. Willow looked down at her watch.


“I was waiting to text Tara. I thought some more people might show up…”


She slipped out her phone and checked the message she’d sent to the parents’ group.


Only one ‘haha’ reaction.


She suddenly felt visceral anger, but not at the other parents.


At herself.


She realized she was keeping Sally from her own party because of her need to feel validated by assholes. This wasn’t about her. This was about Sally.


Period.


She felt way too close to Willow of the past. The part of her that always thought she wasn’t enough, that ruined things before they could be good. She made a mental note to bring it up in therapy.


“I’m letting her know right now. They’re not too far away, so everyone get ready to hide.”


Everyone looked around at the bare room in mild panic. Dawn tried to flatten herself against the wall, Lee crouched behind a single chair that hid nothing, and Jeff attempted to squeeze in behind the pile of gifts. It wasn’t elegant, but it would have to do.


Willow’s phone buzzed that they were close, and she made a hand motion for everyone to stay down. Moments later, Sally’s voice floated in from down the hall.


“Isn’t this the place you used to work? Is it Family Day again? Are there going to be more drag queens?!”


“Ooh, I could whip out Daddi Longlegs!” Lee stage-whispered, just to get a resounding ‘shush’ sent back to him.


Tara steered Sally toward the right door, and after a brief hanging moment when nobody realized that there wasn’t anyone visualizing their entrance, Tara cleared her throat and everybody jumped up.


“Surprise!”