"The Garland Days" (Completed 09/05)

[mariacomet]

Everyone;

Ya know, I really miss the days that I could write when I was at work. And I did have those days, before the new job duties. Ya all think I can go to my boss and demand that my position also include fic writing time?



It WAS done, I promise. And then I reworked things on an update and now...it's the update that never ends. It just goes on and on, my friends.



It's always a mistake when I go back and re-read things because I am NEVER satisified with a story I am writing. Ever. And each time, I make changes I have to pass the story back to my betas who - wonderful as they are - also demand something called a life and are not sitting by their email boxes waiting to beta my stuff. (I know...this knowledge surprised me too. )



Give me just a bit longer, and I will do ya proud, gang.



jaycatt23 - I wanted to wait until I had an unofficial quiet moment before sitting down and writing a reply to you.

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Approximately every 6 months I get pissed and tell one of my friends, but that's about it. It's really not impressive, considering I've just turned 22.

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Hon, people MUST do things at their own pace. At 22, I had an inkling about sexuality but never talked about it save in online chat rooms. At 22, I would have never dreamed of telling my parents about my sexuality. At 22, I would have never thought myself brave enough to hold another woman's hand in public. At 22, I would have never dreamed of coming out to ANYONE at work, especially in a corporate environment.



In fact, two years ago...I wouldn't have thought any of that was possible. Two years ago I was firmly in the closest. I was nine months ago too. And then...I started to take a few chances. A small one and then another. And things that I felt would be impossible just weren't anymore. That doesn't mean that everything became easy or that now I work around with a 'I'm Gay and I'm proud' t-shirt. I'm not quite there yet I may never be there. The point is, there is no great wonderous Law book of being gay or coming out. There is no timeline, save the one that YOU need to follow.



We are all motivated to face fear by different things, but that doesn't make the fear silly or anything to be ashamed of. But what I have discovered is that I am happier now being honest with those I work with, and those close to me. I feel more free. And my fears and worries - while some came true - were not as insurmountable as I thought. I was, in the end, bigger then they were after all. I just didn't believe it. Not till after I had begun to face some of them.



Hiding means that you keep a part of you seperate. It means that you never really give someone else a chance to know you. To reject or love you. To encourage you...or yes, sometimes to walk away.



It took my 30 years to come to all of this. it took my 30 years to tell my parents, and listen to my mother sob like her heart was breaking, and explain to me that I would go to hell. It took 30 years for me to put a picture of my girlfriend above my desk. It took 30 years for me to allow my co-workers to meet that same girlfriend. I'm not sure I could have come out any sooner then I did. But not hiding all the time? Not lieing? (and omission is a lie) Telling people that my girlfriend's name is Ben and not Becca so I could talk about my relationship and not face people's judgements (My EX-girlfriend, I should say. Michele is my dearest love...but I don't lie about her name) Getting flowers and telling my parents that ' a friend' sent them to me to cheer me up. Trying to hide the cover of a gay book I bought. Or not being able to buy them at all. A million small things like that....and a few hundred large things. You face one small thing, and sometimes things just domino. You allow that possibility in your mind of doing something you think is impossible, and you talk it over with people and get their input...and you make a plan...and suddenly....it is possible.

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Because there are so many people who've stood up, and risked so much, to do what I'm either too scared, or too apathetic (one or the other) to manage.

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This used to get to me as well. Actually it STILL does. How can I hesitate or feel myself looking around to make sure noone is watching when I go to kiss Michele. when there are sooo many that have suffered and even died?



People have risked a lot so that you can come out of the closet and face less then they did. That opportunity is there waiting for you, for all of us. I have felt the responisbility of the past...the burden for me to carry the torch in my part of the race. I will try, I can finally say that and believe it. But I can't carry it as anyone else save myself. Sometimes that means time. Sometimes that means small steps instead of big ones.



I learned that there is no such thing as a lie I MUST tell. No such thing as compulsion when it comes to hiding. No chains on me save by my own choice. And maybe I was willing to subject myself to all that. But I was not willing to subject my partner to it. And then...I wasn't willing to deal with a lot of it anymore either.



I can tell you that I am happier. Much happier. But not that I am fearless.



And by the way, admitting who you are, good and bad takes guts. You were able to do that here. You are able to admit that to yourself. Don't discount that.



TareBearRS -I believe that Xander is - despite everything one of the good guys. So I try and write him that way. I was glad that he could show up with the 'calvary' even though Willow and Tara had already sort of solved things.



I am trying to avoid sad gay movies lately. Boys don't cry I have not seen but will make an exception for. But lost and Delerious sounds like it will be...um...horribly sad. I will keep it in mind thouygh since quite a few seem to think highly of it.

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If people in general would pay more attention at themselves instead of others and how they live their life things would be so much easier.

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Amen.



Thanks for reading the story and all your comments and sharing both about movies and your personal experiences.



barnabasvamp I'd be lieing if I didn't say it was meant to be harsh. It was NOT meant to be unreadable or cruel. But it was meant to be a reminder. If I have done that, i think it's not a bad thing.



Willow had a choice to make. She could echo what the cops did or stay true to who she is. I love Willow, so I am glad she made choice number two.



And Tara helped out a LOT.



sprhrgrl Thank you! And yep....extra smut. In fact...maybe too much? *dramatic music swells*



Puff HUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG to you and yours. I hope you had a wonderful honeymon.



some dark thing Transylvania! Really? My sense of humor is begging me to do a few count drac joke, but I assume you have heard them all. I vant to comment...blah!

(in my head that sounds like Count Drac) Ahem...moving on.

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(Yes, people, I'm different. Gasp! Not everything in the LGBT community is solely about sexual orientation.)

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I think it depends on the group. Some groups are very welcoming, I think. Some are very cliquey and judgemental. To give a semi-non related example: All my life i have bene into computers. My firs tech job was a few years ago, and i was fired for what amounts to incompetance. Now it was my first tech job, and they gave me all of an hour training and the

techs there were ALL women...and very very very very cliquish. Not my scene at all. And they were less than helpful.



So I was fired but I didn't quit working in the tech field...I moved on to IBM. Now in that job, i was promoted and had a sterling repuation. I was a trainer and a Sr. Tech. But then again, I still didn't feel like I knew the other techs around me. Moving on to my current job...i have a good reputation and know all of the people around me and have made a lot of great friends. What's the difference..since I don't believe that I have changed? A combination of things - the hours i work, the people i work with, and...perhaps my confidence. But it took some time to find a place i felt I fit in.



Insta Solidarity only happens when something extreme happens. That's too bad, and it sucks. The LGBT community should know better but they often judge. I think it's because they are afraid of nonsolidarity - which is ironic. I'm a conservative, overweight, republican lesbian writer - do I fit in ANYWHERE? Especially in the LGBT community? But I have found that individuals learn to get to know me and then either shake their head at me or argue with me, but still love me.



Communities still make me nervous as a whole, and maybe that's part of the problem. My inherent distrust. Maybe you have to give things a chance, and maybe you have to keep searching till you find someplace you fit in. So maybe it's partly your fault if you don't keep looking.



I'm thinking out loud. if I knew about fitting in, i wouldn't be such a tech geek...maybe.



And how do you make people understand that we are so much stronger together then apart, that judgements breaks down the unity?



You can't always. That much is clear to me. Maybe you can only do what you can do.



In Tampa, Fl this year there was no Pride celebration because of the gripes and complaints of last year. Tampa is not a small city. We canceled Pride! Hello....sorry, this year we are going to be ashamed instead...but thanks for calling.



So easy to lose sight of the bigger issue. And who's resonsibility is it then - to go back to the beginning and remember? i have no idea. On the board, i have seen it. In every community or office or group or church or school or team or organization I have ever been in, I have seen it. And those that should know better never do. We all get caught in the details. Too hot, too cold, too white, too black...too gay...and not gay enough.



Until something happens and we are forced to remember the big picture because the difference so important before...fades away. Likes and dislikes become irrelevant. Personal preferences are replaced by group needs. there are waves of solidarity maybe...or pockets of it. And yet they last long enough to do a great deal of good. And elementally maybe what people need to be reassured of is that you ARE like them, that you will understand them. that you are not so different that you don't have the same struggles they do. I think this is the majority, really.



There will be places out there where people have their heads up their arses and don't care who fits in...or if anyone new does, or about others feelinsg at all. Don't give them a second thought. They aren't worth your time and energy. But don't stop seeking. Don't turn that part of you off. Don't become complacent. Because there is no chance at all of solidarity if you quit and turn your back on things.



That's the best thinking on that I have to offer so far...after about an hour of staring at the screen.



TareBearRS (part 2) I feel honored by the sharing. especially if this lil fic o' mine inspired it.



I never thought I could tell my parents i was gay. But lieing to them was devesating me.



Tomorrow, my mom is meeting my girlfriend for the first time. Because till recently she believed that meeting her would be contributing to sin. When I told my mom I was gay, it nearly broke her heart. She cried...a lot. For weeks. She was angry, a lot...at me and at God. She felt I was doing something TO her. Against her. Despite her.



She believes, honestly, that it is wrong. She told so when I told her. I want to make it clear that I don't hold her beliefs against her. They are what she honestly feels in her heart. I dont agree, obviously.



But even after saying quite a few terrible things and glaring at me and sobbing....she still called me her daughter. she still hugged me when I left after telling her.



I'm sorry your father couldn't understand that no matter what you will always still be his family.



Mom...couldn't bear not being a full part of my life. And so, after much soul searching, she wants to meet the woman I love. It's taken some time, and it's amazingly hard for her. I love her for trying. Of course, I know that this does not mean she approves of what i do or part of who I am. she doesn't need to, though it would be nice. But I did want her to acknowledge it.



She has managed - in the end - to love me despite herself...despire her own code and beliefs. And I am so proud of her for that one. It is not a process that has ended now. She will have to continue this journey. And I will, in turn have to learn as well. She is full of pride, much like me...and I'm not the easiest person in the world to deal with. And she...expected a much much different kind of daughter. She had dreams stored in me. Those have to change now.



All this is likely true for your father too. I knew for my mom it would take time, and I was willing to give it that time. I was willing to disagree and leave it unvoiced. I was willing not take even horrible comments to heart. But I didn't let them hide from what I had said either.



I have loved them despite themselves too. Loving them and maintaining a relationship was a high priority for me and them. I got lucky there.



Maybe your dad will come around. I hope he does.

Edited by: mariacomet at: 7/31/03 7:01 pm

[some dark thing]

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it's the update that never ends. It just goes on and on, my friends.

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Oh, neverending story. (had to mention that, now moving on )

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Don't become complacent. Because there is no chance at all of solidarity if you quit and turn your back on things.

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That's the thing... No, actually "the thing" is not obvious. hmmm... You know, as this thread turned to more... private stuff I will post that damn thing that's been on my mind since your reply on evil, MC. Yeah, I've been keeping to myself since then. Your reply made me speechless then. You made a connection between "evil", "willfully" and "enjoy". I'll quote the most poignant part cuz it was so long ago :-)

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Some people...enjoy the destruction. Enjoy it, in general. Enjoy the using. Enjoy the taking. From the word go. There is no reviewing the issue later. There is no care if/when they realize how they are effecting others. There is only hunger for more of the same.

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"Effecting others"?? What, like hurting them and stuff? I've never allowed myself to see that as "evil". It was... fun. "Evil" was crossing some boundaries. Yes, I knew I was "biased". "Picking on others is a great way to bond for our pack." I've said actually this. And "using"? So what if I use someone? It's not like they _lose_ something in the process. ("Their dignity, maybe?" my dark side quipped, bored)



I think we both see in Tara the "essentially good" person. What you said about her, that she chose the "light side" after being mistreated most of her life, was dead on too regarding the nasty nasty subject. I don't believe "taking your pain on ohers" is an excuse, there is always a choice. The one that Tara made_

A) ...and it makes her a good person

B) ...because she is a good person

I guess this is the main question for me. Yes, it's the made/born evil thing rearing its ugly face to stare me in the eyes. Is there really a choice, if you are to follow your instincts/heart/soul/whatever? It's been ages since I raised my hand in anger, yet I have to search for "violence", in the music I listen to set up a mood, in what I watch on TV. I'm comforted by it. It's... familiar. A couple of days ago I watched that scene in "Blade" when the blood starts "raining" in the vamp club, the vamps dance and the human freaks, it's one of the most... poetic I can remember. It gave me WAFF. Then Blade killed 'em all and that was also very beautiful. Oh, I'm not one of those vamp-obsessed people. I think blood reminds me of the Goddess, of the dreadful love of the Goddess. (Ok, the DARK Goddess.) She/it tears me asunder. Why do I like DMW? Because I wish I'd lash out and just... destroy this wretched... joke that surrounds us. Her.



Evil...

I didn't know hate before I started to hate the so-called "creation". I enjoyed having fun on the expense of others, I couldn't care less about people, but I didn't know hate. Now I'm nicer, much more accomodating, but I have hate inside me. It's like... I've always lived in "the dark side", just in a different neighborhood.



So I kinda keep away from people. In fact, when I meet someone I like it's always this... struggle inside, between the part that wants to get closer and bask in warmth and the one that thinks of the other and of how I shouldn't... inflict myself on them.



Bah! More than enough sharing for today.

( , someone-else-here-inside replies)

[mariacomet]

See, I told you all that eventually I would post.



I broke Garland down in the end into 8 parts and not 6 as planned. The BAD NEWS is that this means...no smut in this part... The Good news is that Part 7 has a lot of smut.



And then there's part 8 that kind of wraps the whole thing up.



I'll post again tomorrow. Thanks everyone for your patience and friendship.



I owe Some dark thing a reply, which I will tack on at the end...(and am currently writing) but for now...



On with the show....







The Garland Days



Title: The Garland Days

Part: 6/8

Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com

Feedback: Feedback is fuel for the imagination.

Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: Everything before and including season five.



Rating: NC-17. There will be…Adult situations. I deal with some very dark themes as well as some very light themes.



Disclaimer: All characters contained herein were created and are owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Legally, yes he owns them all. But I have the right to hold the opinion that he doesn’t deserve them anymore. I am only doing this because well...it's fun to play with Willow and Tara. Not making any money.



Special thanks to: It's been...a summer of wonderous possibilities and I owe that to the one that holds my heart. Thank you, love...for everything.









Rupert Giles silently regarded the two women, and then he stood abruptly. It was an explosion of motion, almost violent in its suddenness. All of them - Willow and Tara, who sat side by side on the couch not touching, and Xander who was leaning back against the wall – waited. They could all see his mind racing. The set of his jaw was tight, the expression of someone who wanted to take action. To defend the ones he loved, to seek justice. There was a father’s anger in his eyes. Fierce and uncalculated. But there was weariness too, because he knew there was nothing he could do about the wrong that had been done. No way to go back in time and stop it from happening. No real means of seeking justice when those empowered to protect society lived in a society that sanctioned certain actions and certain prejudices.



It was natural that he be upset, Tara thought, but…the others were counting on him for something. Their gazes were expectant. And as Willow had told the tale of what had happened tonight, something – a hesitation and a fear - that had nothing to do with the actual recounting hung in her words. Tara intuitively knew this had to be handled carefully – she wondered if the Englishman knew how much…how very much Willow seemed to value his opinion.



Tara had been surprised when in the driveway of Mr. Giles’s house there was a 1967 cherry red convertible Impala. Xander had - after all - kept referring to the person they were going to see as ‘the old man.’ The person that opened the door was taller than she expected, admittedly with graying tips to his hair. His gaze at first was stern - but as he looked upon Willow and Xander and it grew clear something had happened there was only worry. He’d worried like this before. Tara saw the lines of it around his eyes and mouth. It reminded her of Willow…and, in an afterthought, of Xander. The concern he felt didn’t seem to have the rawness it might, if it was something he was unused to. Rupert Giles spent a lot of time worrying about these two, and had for quite a while. Tara, who was new to the trio’s dynamic, could sense an authority to the man without fully understanding why. She knew that Willow seemed to depend on him…that his presence had seemed to bolster her, much as Xander’s presence did.



The agitation in the Englishman was suddenly and carefully harnessed. He hadn’t spoken throughout the entire retelling. But he did now. “You must never cast out of anger, Willow.” His words were just above the volume of a murmur.



It was not a harsh rebuke. It was the voice of a man whose heart was not in what he was saying. The words had no heat, just a kind of quiet sadness. He was voicing not what he wanted to say, but what he thought he should say. What he believed needed to be said now, in the aftermath of everything. Perhaps he felt that all that was left for him to do, if he could not truly ever protect those he loved, was to try and guide them.



“I couldn’t…” The witch he had addressed said in a voice that was barely audible. “I couldn’t help it. I had to do something.”



“Uncontrolled power is always dangerous.” Giles continued gently, still with no fervor to his words. He sounded like a teacher now…or perhaps still a father, Tara thought. Still concerned and angry…and trying to pull Willow from the wreckage of the night. In the only way he knew how.



“But…” Willow stopped, not wanting to contradict a man that in many ways had been her mentor. But his look was expectant and open. She continued with a swallow. “I…I felt in control. I’m not sure I have ever felt so in control. And I didn’t have to use any components.”



“Anger was the component.” He replied. Tara nodded inwardly at that. She wasn’t sure that she knew more about magic than Willow did, but that seemed to fall in line with what she did know.



“Anger was the component?” The redhead echoed in disbelief. Her words were a testament to the unfairness she was feeling. “Giles, I’ve never seen that in any spell book anywhere, and I’ve read all the ones you gave me. I mean it just doesn’t say ‘in order for this spell to work, the caster must have a sunny disposition.’”



“Perhaps I should have said,” The Englishman tried again. “that the component was you…and your rather volatile surge of energy. We use components, Willow, not because we have to…Well, we have to on many occasions…but not for all spells. Not in all situations…which is the important point.”



He frowned at himself, even as he tried to explain – as if he was trying to condense a great deal of information and was finding it close to impossible to be sure he was explaining properly. “The use of herbs and other things is usually a matter of energy and sacrifice. Both are…offerings for the natural and supernatural world. They enhance or serve as vessels…conduits for magic. In this case it seems you were the direct conduit. And if there was no sacrifice, no offering made… it means something is unbalanced, Willow. Magic may forgive you that. Or it may demand payment in a way you least expect. There may be unseen things that you released tonight that you aren’t…”



“Well that’s just great,” Xander interrupted. “Once again the skankiness of the universe rears its ugly head. Willow had a right to be angry. She had a right to feel like lashing out.”



As they’d told the older man everything, Xander, who hadn’t known the extent of what had happened at the beach, had begun to pace. But now he was leaning against the far wall…and holding himself very, very still.



Xander’s lips were pressed in a grim line. He looked paler than before. His eyes were filled once again, with the same self-loathing he’d expressed in the car. He was watching Giles as intently as Willow was.



This police officer had risked quite a bit tonight, Tara realized. Certainly his reputation and his job. The whole thing could have, and might still backfire. Cops protected their own, and she could only imagine what they might do to someone who they felt had betrayed them. Turned on them.



Especially over a gay bar.



“Xander,” Giles began with a grim expression, still speaking quietly. But now something was cracking through the teacher’s mask he had taken on. He was, Tara realized, fighting the only battle of the evening that he felt was left to fight. “What I am telling Willow is for her own safety as well as others.”



She thought she understood what he was trying to do. Because she had been there on the beach. She had seen Willow’s rage. No one in the world would have blamed Willow had she continued. Not even Tara herself. Which was frightening. When it had all begun to happen and she recognized the energy seizing the air as a spell...part of her had hesitated, had been inclined to let Willow finish.



It would have been right. No…no…it would have served them right. It was what they deserved.



But then…another kind of anger had stirred inside her.



She had battled to leave her father’s house and come to college. Because she was determined that Tara Maclay carve out more of a destiny for herself then to be the quiet mouse of a girl, who…when she was old enough, married and became the perfect wife. She left because if she had stayed her father would have eventually broken her spirit…and she wouldn’t have been able to stop him. She refused to be his creation.



She had gone to the bar tonight, because again, she had felt her own life slipping away from her. She had read too many books with too many sad endings, maybe. But to surrender to resignation was no better than being shaped by fear. Fear of others being impatient with or mocking her stutter. Fear of trying and failing. Fear of…losing her father. His love always seemed based on her following his will to the letter. So easy to lose.



So many things were like that.



And she had kissed Willow tonight because she knew that all too well. Because she refused to lose another thing, another moment, another breath…by inaction.



She was Tara Maclay and she would be her own creation.



And Tara Maclay would be dammed if she would let the men on the beach have the last victory over Willow. Rage was a fiercer carver of the heart than almost anything…save perhaps love.



She had seen Willow Rosenberg’s heart and she would not let that vibrant stained glass be cracked by men who needed to round up their victims in the dark. Men with guns and power who had to threaten their half-naked prey in remote places. They would not take that heart. They would not change it.



And she knew, she knew…that stopping Willow wasn’t in her power. Willow’s magic was a wild herd let loose…and she did not have the power to rein it in. Tara had cast a spell in answer to that raging that was little more than a glamour. A beginner could have performed that spell. It had altered nothing save a few moments where she had let Willow see through her eyes. There had been the very real possibility that such a brief glimpse wouldn’t be enough. That Willow would brush it aside or ignore it.



But Tara knew Willow Rosenberg, or at least she felt she did. From the moment they had first met. When they had gone outside and were speaking with Xander. When Willow had come back for her.



And what if…what if the worst had happened, she asked herself now that it was safe to do so.



Even that wouldn’t have made her walk away, she realized. Not while those eyes shone with the fierce desire to do the right thing, and offered within them endless empathy.



She had simply – in the end - trusted this woman at her side.



She had seen her heart, and trusted, and the best part…the best part was that she hadn’t been wrong.



“All she did,” The young man was growling. “Was to give them a taste of their own medicine. They deserved everything they got. And those guys are lucky I’m not the one with the bippity boppity boo because if I could have, I’d have used every spell in the book until they never touched another woman again.”



“You are familiar with the law.” The other man replied intensely. “You don’t take your gun and shoot all the criminals you see, not even when you don’t think they have been properly punished, do you?” The older man slid his hands into his pockets. “Magic has its own laws.”



Xander pushed off the wall, his hands flexing as if he felt the need to do something - anything. “Well, it’d be swell if those laws actually helped the good guys for once, instead of tying our hands….”



“I understand that all of you have reason – good reason – to be angry…”



“She st-stopped. Willow…stopped.” Tara said loud as she dared, interrupting the men. It was, in her mind, the most important thing. As she said it, she knew she was trying to defend Willow – but it felt natural to do that. Tara allowed herself that impulse. She didn’t dare look at the woman sitting beside her though. Stop an argument between two strangers, sure. Catch the eyes of the woman she…um…had kissed…that was far too dangerous.



Tara inwardly rolled her eyes at herself. But they had all been through a lot tonight, so maybe such quirks as shyness in all the wrong things was a failing that had been well earned. At least for tonight.



“Yes,” Giles agreed wryly after a moment. “There is that.” The blond could see him struggle to hold back his emotions again. He had felt it was a necessity, she thought, to be strong for them. But he couldn’t maintain that mask forever. Because they were more than his students. Tara saw his show of strength fall away, and what was left was a man who was afraid for them. “I am terribly sorry for what you’ve been through tonight Willow…Tara. What happened is unthinkably wrong.”



Rupert Giles moved toward the two women, sitting on the coffee table and touching the reporter’s hand. He looked up at Xander and then back to the young women in front of him. He was weighing what he would say next, Tara could feel it. And in that, she knew that he did know how much they depended on him.



It made sense, her dream, having this kind of loyalty as well as returning it. Reacting and offering such things as if it was commonplace. It was part of what she’d sensed upon first meeting Willow. So many laugh lines and worry lines both around those lips. The necessity of smiling through pain. The strength to find things to smile about, despite the pain. It was shared pain, Tara felt in her soul, that bound these three friends. But it was laughter and trust that made the friendship something not only of the past, but of the present. Of the future.



Willow would do what she thought was best in the end. She didn’t seek to meet anyone else’s standards of right and wrong. Still, the opinion of the person who sat before her mattered. Because she trusted him. She trusted him with her pain…and with a part of her heart.



Tara contemplated that, knowing somehow that what Willow was giving Rupert Giles – that respect – had been earned. Wanting…wishing…for some of the same respect to be slowly earned and offered to herself. Feeling the tremors of excitement and fear…and…pain. This had been a wonderful...horrible night.



“The world isn’t perfect.” Giles said finally. “But it can be made better. And not just by those who are born to certain destinies. Not just by…taking extreme actions.” He turned to Xander again. The police officer had lowered his head, his chin almost touching his chest. The blonde watched the anger drain from the officer. He’d wanted to argue – because it was an action. Something he could do. A blockade from the admission of his own helplessness. But there was nothing to fight now. Not here. “Don’t let tonight be what shapes you.” The older man went on, his voice was an insistent, slow drumbeat in a hushed room. He was calling to them, as if from a great distance, to try and hear not just his words, but how much he meant them. “Leave that to what you hope the world could be.” Again, he pivoted to Willow, and in his eyes was his heart aching for all of them. “What you believe it one day might be.”



Xander moved toward where the rest of them sat, as if he could no longer stand to be separated from them, even if it was just across the room. He sank down slowly in the easy chair near the couch. Willow leaned forward and did what she hadn’t been able to do until now…she felt the tears falling from her eyes and her shoulders shaking.



Relief was what Tara felt. What she thought Willow felt as well. Relief that someone could hear about the events of the night, and still have faith. Faith in them. Faith in that vibrant thread ever waiting to be woven that was human potential.



And Tara, who had never been one to hide from her feelings, and whose own well of faith was emptier than it had been in a long time, felt a quiet renewal begin.





****************************

Could be’s and might be’s. The shape of an unseen world.



Willow entered the room carrying clean linens and a blanket. She’d heard Tara emerge from the shower a few minutes ago, but had wanted to give her time. Not that she imagined it would take long for the blonde to change into the loaner shorts and shirt she had been given by Xander. He lived closest, after all. He had promised to take both Tara and Willow by their apartments tomorrow so they could pick up what he referred to as ‘gear.’ Xander liked talking that way, whenever he could.



He’d been shocked by what had happened tonight. He’d tried to warned her of the dangers, but…some part of him had still been horribly surprised. A fear with-in him had been re-opened – raw and bare. Something about his eyes that had reminded her…of his demeanor when Buffy died. That kind of feeling of helplessness. She should tell him when she got the chance, that…



…that Buffy would have been proud of him tonight.



And what would Buffy have thought of her actions? She felt a brief, sudden flash if humor. Her actions both inside the bar…and then after.



Could be’s and might be’s.



Earlier she’d been full of vengeance. And perhaps rightfully so. Full of power. Frighteningly so. Exhilaratingly so.



But greater than all that was the moment when she had shared a kiss with the woman who now sat motionless on the bed. Tara seemed lost in her own thoughts. She hadn’t looked up when the door opened. Even now, her eyes were fixed on a point, on a place outside the room.



Which was all right, because Willow needed a moment too.



Why this need to gather her courage before seeing Tara again?



Should be’s were filling her mind, as they had been since leaving the beach. Should she have insisted on filing a report? Should she have said more to the captain?



Tara had been so brave.



No, it was more than all that making her hesitate. More than tonight’s events. Tara had said that Willow held her heart. But there was so much that Tara didn’t know. Willow sighed, thinking about how neurotic she could be. She could over-plan, and over think. She could be stubborn as a mule. She could be…cowardly. When it came to taking chances. When it came to risk.



She could be arrogant, sometimes refusing to listen, sometimes refusing to believe until she saw it for herself; did it for herself.



Could be’s and might be’s.



The shape of an unseen world.



More than any of this, she was used to being alone.



Maybe not in practice. There was Xander, and Giles…and when Buffy had been alive…there’d always been the four of them. But the doubts of her heart, her pained questions and desperate thoughts. The fears that made her work oh-so-hard in the light of day. Some that she had conquered, but others that still made guest appearances in her mind’s eyes. And new fears, new questions…new ideas of failure.



After Buffy had died, she had felt lost for quite some time, trying to rebuild who she believed herself to be. Sometimes this new Willow – this person she had gathered together – seemed so much less.



She thought of the feel of Tara’s magic, flowing focused and clear – waiting…like a stream of water waiting to be allowed permission to branch into another stream. And when their magic had mingled, there had been warmth, and the pulse of certainty in their casting. The elegance and grace that magic should be, should always be, but that Willow – bright and talented as she was – had never captured on her own. Magic, made complete.



But how often could Willow do that? She was used to trying to control what she could. How much she learned, and how quickly. And always the desire for more. Never feeling entirely satisfied with who she was or what she did, or what she could do.



It was when she had that thought, dancing in her mind and reflecting in her eyes, that Tara turned towards her.



Blonde hair, damp from the shower, fell in soft strands down past her shoulders. Pale skin against a red weathered shirt that was two sizes too big for her. They stood there and watched each other.



“It’s…it’s been a long night.” Tara said slowly, and Willow nodded, unable to say anything, feeling a knot in her throat. “We d-don’t have to…I mean, I k-know that you s-said you wanted to share a room…but if you’d rather…”



Soft blue eyes, why did they seem ethereal? Like an angel’s eyes? So…clear…and full of quiet strength. “I was just thinking…about what Giles said.” Willow told her softly. “About tonight…I know what he means…about not letting it…” She shook her head at herself. That wasn’t the right beginning. It wasn’t even what she wanted to say. There was so much to say. There was just no place to start. “I don’t usually…what I did tonight…I don’t usually cast like that.”



The blonde witch stood and moved toward her. She took away the linens and set them down on the bed. Then she laid her hand over Willow’s. “I know.” Fingertips brushed and then held on. Just like at the bar. Just like on the way here. And now…



And now…



“I don’t want to forget everything about tonight. Not everything.” The reporter said. “Do you?”



Could be’s and might be’s.



Willow searched Tara’s eyes.



The shape of an unseen world.



Tara shook her head in the negative, and her lips lifted in a breathtaking smile.



“I just…” The redhead swallowed, part of her trying to stop the words, and part of her fighting to say them. “I just wonder if you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, here. My history is sort of…um…complicated. I’m sort of…complicated.”



The woman that held her heart didn’t cease that smile…that smile that made her pulse quicken, and her heart shout glorious things. That smile that made her soul feel like that of a poet. Wonder and passion…and the ability to create worlds.





*****************************************************************

“I kind of f-figured.” Tara admitted. “I’m not so complicated…I’m... I’m just m-me.”



They were near a kiss, both still hesitating, on the edge of giving up that final distance…again. Tara couldn’t remember a time, before tonight, when she’d been so close to a kiss. And who knew where a kiss might lead…here…now.



Tonight. After so much had happened. Her heart was still feeling partially numbed by it. And she wanted it not to be.



The slightest touch from Willow made her feel so much…



She was realizing that as much as she had believed that she had known about love – after all the reading and all the daydreams – she knew so little. She hadn’t known how it could hold you so close yet so far away. How she would rise and fall to the rhythm of someone else. How she could feel as if she was standing on tiptoes, stretching her hand out to reach something…feeling her fingers brush…and brush.



But that was what she expected. All her life…things had been just out of reach. And even now, what she was used to…what she understood…was someone looking at what she offered, and deciding that it wasn’t enough. So she was giving Willow excuses, chances to walk away.



She’d changed from the young woman who had left home in one act of desperate rebellion. Sunnydale wasn’t exactly the big city, but it had felt that way compared to life back there. But things followed you sometimes, no matter how much you grew.



‘Just Tara,’ she could hear her brother and father say. Just Tara…she’s shy. Her teachers, and even her friends always stressed the ‘just’. Just Tara…the calm, thoughtful, obedient one. The quiet one. Just Tara.



But…she was studying hard in college now, and doing well. She had managed to scrape together enough money to get an apartment by taking a part time job as a librarian’s assistant. And she’d been ecstatic. Proud of herself, for doing anything to shake herself out of what people expected of her. Even if the reach wasn’t that far removed from what others had predicted. Close…but not exact. Small triumphs were all she had, little moments when she was no longer that paper image, cut out by the others in her life so long ago.



All of this was the truth of her life.



And so there was no reason that Willow Rosenberg’s eyes should be shining when they looked at her, and yet they were.



She’d done nothing to earn words of love or small touches…and yet…



Willow’s thumb was grazing her fingertips, trailing over her palm.



Oh, shining, luminous green eyes…and the feel of the woman she had dreamed of stepping yet closer. Their bodies brushing like lightning over a dark sky, charged and sharp. A feel of brimming things rising to the surface without quelling. Her heart expanding as Willow leaned in and grazed her cheek with her own. Tara’s own hands rising and running over that face that now was the source of aching in her heart…tracing around the lips that parted for her, that had …earlier…kissed her again and again till she felt like she was drowning. The sultry heat of quickened breathing spreading over her fingertips. Tara thinking to herself that Willow didn’t know…didn’t know…didn’t know…



That she was just…



*************************************************

I’m not so complicated…I’m... I’m just m-me, Tara had said.



Willow felt like closing the space between them and drawing her into a kiss. One kiss and then another, until Tara knew there was no ‘just’…no such thing, not when it came to her. But she couldn’t quite find the courage to act on her heart’s desire again.



Not without…making sure...



“Tara?” Willow murmured almost reverently.



“Yes, Willow?”



“I…really…kind of want to kiss you.”



“Um....Are you s-s-sure?…H-how do you know y-y-you’re really attracted to me?” Tara asked suddenly. It was a serious enough question to just penetrate the haze Willow had begun to feel. Not her fault, really. Tara was much too close…she blinked a few times, and felt as if she was trying to regain her balance. But it was no use, she didn’t feel steady, didn’t want to. She fought for words…and almost laughed at herself. Since when did she have a hard time finding words?



It required a serious answer, that question. So Willow considered things for a moment and answered as honestly as she could. “I feel it when I look at you. Here and here…” Willow touched her tummy and then laid a hand over her heart. “And…um… in other places I’m not sure we’re supposed to talk about yet.”



High color rose in both their cheeks, but their eyes stayed locked. “It’s been a long night.” Tara said again, in a quieter tone, almost a whisper. So uncertain – she looked so uncertain right now, Willow noted to herself. “It’s easy to get…carried away. I mean, I f-feel like I could…now.”



“I feel it too.” Willow told her softly, unwilling to leave her on that ledge of admission alone.



Knots – pride, integrity, compassion – those things that held you together, kept you strong, tied the fragments of you into a whole. Pain and loss and fear could pull the strongest ropes free, unravel them. There was a weakening that had happened, and neither woman could deny that. But new love was embodied in one another, and hope spoke promises in their souls that such torn places could be repaired, or rewoven.



“It’s all happening so fast.”



There was a hesitation, a lump in Willow’s throat. Words seemed awkward, useless things that were pushed away. An intangible force guarding the bond between them, pulling them ever toward one another. Beyond reason or protocol or even logic, which both of them held dear. Willow felt the ache to draw Tara close. But she didn’t move. Couldn’t move yet. Both their fears still suspending them between here and there.



“Are you afraid tomorrow I might…change my mind?”



“A little.” Tara answered quietly “It happens. I mean, I t-t-think it does. Sometimes people get confused. Kind of like…getting lost in the heat of the moment? And…even if...Willow, what you saw tonight with the police. It can be like that sometimes. I mean, other people can be like that. People aren’t always so d-direct but…things can h-happen, cruel things, unfair things. It’s not easy being different. For some people it’s too much.”



Willow saw it all hit her. Memories. Small and large. And the last one of tonight…The faces…leering men and rough, taunting voices. They both hated the memory, the feeling of humiliation – burning so deep inside them, branded there. But Tara let Willow see the pain of everything, all of it.



**************************************************



Willow was watching her, not letting go, and Tara could feel Willow’s chest move with the almost painful rush of hitched, rapid breathing. Breathless, because somehow Willow saw her as beautiful, as…more, so much more than she had ever seen herself. And it was possible she was…or maybe that she could be…or maybe…



Maybe…



Who was this person tonight who had told a police captain that she…that others weren’t going anywhere? She was the person who had stood in the middle of a bar, all eyes on her, and made out with – there wasn’t any other wording that fit what she’d done - someone who was practically a stranger.



Tara had held Willow close, when she should have been terrified of her. She’d used compassion against those who’d sought to beat her mind and body into submission. It hadn’t been a perfect stand. She was convinced she could have and should have done more. But the fact remained that she had done something. For once. And she knew now that she could stand against those who meant to inflict cruelty, and that she didn’t have to surrender to them. Not completely. Not ever again. She was stronger now. Because - in the end – she’d stayed true to herself and because…of Willow.



She had found something inside herself tonight, and it had been partially because there’d been no time to think. No, not to think…to doubt. To second-guess herself…as she almost always did.



It was an amazing idea really, that she could be brave.



**************************************************



Could be’s and might be’s.



“I want you to stay.” The blonde confessed guilelessly. “But if you don’t believe there’s more than one night here, I…I need you to go.”



Willow reached up and brushed away a tear that had formed at the corner of honest blue eyes. Another had escaped her attention and streaked down the blonde’s face. Tara rubbed at her cheeks, and struggled for composure.



And again the reporter thought how brave Tara was.



“Are you sure you… ” She couldn’t finish. She felt too exposed…and too stricken. By what Tara was offering, by what was happening between them. She withdrew…but not far. Not far at all. She tried again. “I mean…are you okay? I mean, after everything that happened tonight on the beach. And…then there was me – all Brunhilda, queen of rodent doom.”



“Brunhilda was actually a heroic figure.” Tara answered and it was, of course, the most insane thing she could have said. But it made Willow smile, which had been her intention. “Willow,” She began gently. “You’re the o-only one I’ve ever wanted to share this with.”



They took something tonight. They took it and they burned it. But we can rebuild from the ashes. We will always be able to rebuild. Because that’s what love is.



And that’s why that word…love…it’s a statement and a promise. A promise to build, and rebuild, if we have to.



Suddenly there was strength in her, and she pressed a small, almost platonic kiss to Tara’s forehead. “I…don’t want to think. Maybe that’s selfish.” She felt herself nod, as if some part of her knew it was. Was sure it was. “It’s just…my mind gets going and I analyze, and reanalyze and then double-check my analysis with an analysis of my analysis. I…Why can’t we just hold on to the good things? So much feels…like a nightmare sometimes…but not you. You…this…feels...real. And this is what I hope could be. This is what I wish might be…I believe in this.” Willow gave a small shrug, and took in a nervous breath. “And I…I don’t think that’s a bad start.”



“N-not bad at all.” Tara told Willow softly and there was a healing laughter in her tears.















some dark thing



"

Quote:

---

Effecting others"?? What, like hurting them and stuff? I've never allowed myself to see that as "evil". It was... fun. "Evil" was crossing some boundaries. Yes, I knew I was "biased". "Picking on others is a great way to bond for our pack." I've said actually this. And "using"? So what if I use someone? It's not like they _lose_ something in the process. ("Their dignity, maybe?" my dark side quipped, bored)

---

I think I have to be careful in generalizing too much, although certainly I think my definition of evil works.



Were the cops on the beach evil?



Generally, I would say no. Ignorant, yes. Committing an evil act, yes. Their reasons, and since I kind of lumped them all together save Xander...were all pretty similar. Assert power, get the powers that be off their back, try and stop change the best way they knew how.



If you look at what they did, they did not do anything physicially harmful to any of the women. So, like using someone, what was really harmed?



Their dignity?



And yet, I know they were harmed. Something was taken. Something was destroyed. And I think it's a mistake to underestimate dignity. For that time on the beach, they were not treated as human at all. So you could say...that the attempted theft was against their humanity. They were reduced to objects. Dignity is a layered word. For me, it is the basic respect we are all entitled to. A fundemental respect. An acknowledgement that you are a being with thoughts and feelings, and hopes.



The police did not act without reasons. In their minds, they had them. and Willow...had a reason when she began to cause pain.



People always justify what they do to themselves. There is...most of the time, a kind of logic. Self preservation often has a brutal logic, but it is there just the same. And self preservation I think is relevant here as a reason.



The domiant species was acting to keep all others in their place, so that they would remain domiant. What makes more sense then that? But...when you reduce the world to that...again there is that surrender of humanity. Because as human beings we are designed to rise above mere instinct.



So then, what seperates people that do bad things from people who are truly evil? If you believe in that sort of thing. A lot people don't. Wiccan believes say that as long as you do no harm, everything is a-okay.

Quote:

---

I didn't know hate before I started to hate the so-called "creation". I enjoyed having fun on the expense of others, I couldn't care less about people, but I didn't know hate.

---

Remember that my personal definition states that it's destruction and pain for the sake of pain. Did the officers enjoy the women's humilation? Yes...but not for it's own sake. Because it made them feel in control, etc etc, yes...but not because it was in and of itself pain and humilation. They further honestly believed that causing the pain and humilation would help them achieve their goals. This is an evil intent, yes...but if they had achieved their goals and continued the pain and humilation...that goes beyond intent.



Were all Nazi's evil? Or were some good soilders following orders? I'm not sure. Germany was in bad state after WW1. the actions of the Nazi's were evil...but were they? I still think it depends on what part of the evil you are truly enjoying.



And another question....assuming that all those police officers were evil. Does that mean they are beyond redemption later. One might argue that if they had reached a point of self awareness where they understood the damage they were doing, and then continued...their actions would be that much more despicible.



And those that don't understand the damage they are doing, might there be room for them only to be ignorant and not beyond redemption?



And now I reach the end of my ramble. If you have any more thoughts on this, we might want to take this to email. I'm not sure everyone is looking at this and not thinking were are out of our minds.



BUT...one last thing. We all have darkness in us. We all have dark secrets. We all do things that make us ashamed. We all use, and abuse and confuse.



But one thing I know about you, and this is not to say that I know you at all...What I know though is that you read my stuff. And my stuff tends to be about hope and romance...and love conqueroring all. So...my guess would be no matter how dark the dark is...there is light too.



Feel free to email me, if you like...

Edited by: mariacomet at: 8/5/03 6:48 pm

[nika]

Quote:

---

She had seen Willow Rosenberg’s heart and she would not let that vibrant stained glass be cracked by men who needed to round up their victims in the dark. Men with guns and power who had to threaten their half-naked prey in remote places. They would not take that heart. They would not change it.

---

This was superb. It's the perfect definition of abuse within the circles of power and however this 'power' manifests itself. Whether it's a wife beater, a misguided cop or an extremist of any kind. These lines are a testament to the strength of those individuals who stand up to these 'masked cowards' who hide behind the skirts of their position. With these few lines I can almost feel hopeful that not all is lost as long as we don't lose our own hearts and also hold on to the ones that we hold dear. Mc I take my hat off to you and bow real low.

[the vamp nurd]

Words can not express how much this fic rocks, so I'm not going to say a thing.

Sorry I missed church, I was busy becoming a lesbian and worshiping Satan



Bardlet no #27

[Puff]

Ah MC it is so good to see this story back. You know that your ending was practically a cliffhanger don't you? Especially with what is promised in part 7. Very evil



I loved the Giles interaction in this part. Particularly how Tara see's Giles. The thing that struck me the most was how much Willow really does need Giles's approval for her actions and how Tara knew that. And also her support of Willow in front of people she really didn't know.



I loved the whole bedroom part after as well, with their insecurities being laid bare. Hopefully they can use each other to heal.



(Hugs) I hope your summer is going great. Talk to you soon

---

So, the day started and I knew my name and had my pants on. So far, so good. Yay.
Amber Benson

[bluewillowwitch]

,

OH MY GOD! I loved that update! Its very moving. I was very happy to see that and got through it all. I was so happy that Xande and Giles were there for hem.I'm also glad that they hav each oterand they came out of it tha stronger . I hate what happened to them. Why can't people understand that love is love no matter what? I can't wait to what happens next. Update soon, please?







bluewillowwitch

---------------------------------------------

"Fate keeps on happening."--Anita Loos

[lipkandy]

okay, so I was hoping tomorrow was today...or this tomorrow or something. but maybe tomorrow is today's tomorrow?

hmmm.

just enjoying this fic and hoping for an update. then again I enjoy all of your fic. the graceful, poignant way you bring these two coming together is always a treat.



so, um, yeah. is it tomorrow yet?



xomel

[The Rose24]

The last scene is beautifully written. Tara is making sure Willow knows it is all or nothing. Things are so powerful between them, and they are both putting it all on the line.



I love this quote:

Quote:

---

"I want you to stay." The blonde confessed guilessly. "But if you don't believe there's more than one night here, I...I need you to go."

---

Tara: My heart doesn't stutter.


Tara: Willow, I got so lost.

Willow: I found you. I will always find you.

Edited by: The Rose24  at: 8/6/03 7:34 pm

[Pixie gishmock]

I can't believe it's not butter. And that I can't remember to post in MY name and not my girl's.

Life is full of changes...The better you are at letting go of things, the freer your hands will be to catch something new. ~from Off The Map by Joan Ackerman
"It's good to be a chicken casserole," Tara murmured before passing out. ~from "Answering Darkness" by Sassette

Edited by: Pixie gishmock at: 8/6/03 11:37 pm

[mariacomet]

Random writer commentary (which many will skip, but hey...it's my thread, I can give you stuff to skip if I want to)



So I'm gonna admit to you all that I don't think I'm a very good smut writer. I don't mean this as some people do, where they say it and want to be told they are wrong. What I mean is...I have seen better. And I'm not sure this next bit inspires overt lust. I hope it fulfills some of the expectations I have been setting down...since...er...page 1, scene 1, day 1....which was, um, two months ago.



Ahem....so without further ado, and many well meaning hopes...I present part 7.



Whoops; an addendum to my addendum - I will do replies over the next few days. Just in a bit of a rush tonight and wanted to post semi-on time.





Title: The Garland Days

Part:7/8

Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.com

Feedback: Feedback is fuel for the imagination.

Distribution: Just let me know.

Spoilers: Everything before and including season five.



Rating: NC-17. There will be…Adult situations. I deal with some very dark themes as well as some very light themes.



Disclaimer: All characters contained herein were created and are owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Legally, yes he owns them all. But I have the right to hold the opinion that he doesn’t deserve them anymore. I am only doing this because well...it's fun to play with Willow and Tara. Not making any money.



Special thanks to: You….yes, YOU….the reader. And Kath for being the one who wanted more descriptions of tongues.





Tara had closed her eyes at the small, tender kiss she’d been given. They fluttered shut again, as she returned the light pressure, this time mouth to mouth…a whisper of a touch.



“I don’t want to b-believe them.” Tara confessed urgently, just before she kissed Willow again.



“Who?” Willow asked, looking for all the world as if she would personally fight off whoever was causing Tara distress.



Another kiss. Longer.



“All the books I’ve read. The men at the beach.” Her forehead creased and she felt the numbness in her heart give way to pain. “My f-f-father.”



“Believe me.” The redhead said urgently, trying as best she could to cradle that pain. They shared yet another sweet, soft joining of their mouths. The pain fell away. The world became here and now. This room. This moment. There were no men on a dark deserted beach in her head anymore. No father who traded obedience for love. No heartbreaking stories of two women who could never, in the end, be together and happy.



She wanted nothing more than Willow to make her feel this burning, to steal her away from the pain and the doubts.



“Believe this.” Willow whispered, nuzzling at her earlobe, an exploratory touch. It was as if Willow was trying to figure out a puzzle…a nip against her ear and then a soft kiss just at the pulse point of her neck.



But yes…Willow had never…



Another soft touch of that hot mouth…longer…lingering….



...done this before.



Hands now joining the slow mission of seeking…of finding.



A husky sound of pleasure emanating from Willow as she pulled Tara’s hips closer, so that their bodies molded together. And then she waited…Waited…



Not that I have done this before either, Tara thought frantically, what I think we’re going to do…



This was all wrong of course. Falling in love; that was supposed to be a long, involved process. You had to compare goals, find out likes and dislikes. You had to communicate fears, and lay down boundaries. Especially before the ‘making love’ part. She’d always thought that picking someone up in a bar and taking them home - or going home with them - just wasn’t the right way of going about things. Wasn’t the best way.



But what was supposed to have happened, and all the rules that were sensible and logical - and were, she still believed, true - were also not true now. Maybe everyone meets one person who…makes them feel like that, Tara considered. Some part of her was still fighting a losing battle for control, for reason.



She’d finally met someone who made her feel like throwing away all the logical, reasonable arguments. Maybe for this one person…that was all okay.



All of her life…just out of reach…



There was no climbing, no transcending, no holding…without risk. And she’d learned tonight that she could be brave when it mattered.



And this truly, deeply mattered.



“I love you.” She told Willow softly. And then there was no more hesitation.



Tara kissed Willow again, and she breathed her in before diving down and down… into another kiss. And, oh that feeling of drowning, spinning down and down as kisses grew fevered. They sank onto the bed without either of them breaking away or ending the slow grinding foray of their mouths.



She just knew that she wanted to feel Willow’s skin against her own. And her hands were nimble in this, they found the edges of the other woman’s shirt and lifted it up and away. Soft lips – she could almost still feel, still taste them - were smiling at her. When she tried to pull her love close again the diminutive redhead didn’t let her. Instead, Willow’s own fingertips grazed down Tara’s shirt, and pulled it away too.



No one had ever looked at her the way Willow was looking at her now. Possessive, and hungry…and starved…and needing…and loving. She knew suddenly what it was like to be a planet in orbit around the sun. Needing…feeling the life-giving, life-returning warmth…depending on that same heat. To have no choice but to dwell within desire, to be pulled again and again toward it…by a force that you were willingly helpless against.



They faltered again for just a moment. Half naked, kneeling on the bed, trying to gather together a few shallow breaths from the rushing storm of their bodies.



“You’re beautiful, Tara.” Willow said.



She couldn’t answer. Her heart was too full.



She leaned in and kissed Willow’s bare shoulder, and then feathered a kiss over her collarbone. Her love tilted her head back, and suddenly Tara was allowing her tongue to trace and tease…and taste. Suddenly she was an explorer as well, as new to this as her partner for all her thinking that Willow didn’t know…



Didn’t know…



God, she loved the way Willow tasted



*********************************************





Tara’s mouth was an exquisite torture. The reporter had never felt so…overcome. Her roots had been plucked from the earth, she had been lifted high, and now she was shivering in the wind that was Tara.



Shivering, shivering…



That tongue weaving lines over her neck, and down her shoulders. A pause and an open-mouthed kiss. The pressure of sucking…just briefly. Tara had reached around and removed her bra but she barely felt it. She only felt warmth. Tara’s body…Tara’s mouth the entire focal point of her existence.



She couldn’t sit still…she was wriggling closer. And again that image of being almost insubstantial, without the strength to be solid and firm – she had become a flower of delicate stem. Tara was a teasing wind running over her, bending her. Making her…



Shivering, shivering, shivering…



And then the feel of Tara tasting her nipple, and her hands clenched as her body became taut. She reared her head back further and bit her lower lip, and became a wild thing of passion. She arched into Tara, and her love…her love’s thigh slid between her own. She heard herself moan. The contact was what she’d needed right then…it soothed her for the moment, even as Tara began to suckle, and flick her tongue. Slow, agonizingly slow. She was being heated deliberately, slowly. So that her water turned to steam and rose high…and it was a process that made her feel as if she was going mad. But she loved it…needed…everything.



Oh little flower in the wind…all your knowledge does you no good here and now.



She clung to her lover, her hands moving first to her back and then to her hips, pulling her closer. Groaning at the pressure of their bodies pressing close and tight. And still Tara feasted. On one nipple and then the other, seeming to luxuriate in the tasting, as if Willow was an exotic sampling to be savored and that savoring could not be rushed. The contractions of Tara’s mouth made her nipples swell harder and harder. She didn’t dare open her eyes. She couldn’t imagine what she looked like. Cheekbones flushed, hips pressed up while her back was bent to allow Tara…everything she might want.



And then it was all too much, Willow pulled Tara’s mouth back up to her own and kissed her…and god, it was almost violent…that kiss. She had to slow down, had to control the simmering inside her. The wind…the storm…the turbulence…The…



Shivering…



And suddenly the kiss felt like salvation, for Tara took her hands…and led them down. She placed Willow’s hands on her, and then it was her love that was suddenly taut…tense…shivering…



Willow opened her eyes and Tara was looking at her. Total trust was in that gaze. No one had ever looked at her like that before. And three words rose to her lips effortlessly. “I love you.” She said. And then again. “I love you, Tara.”



And her fingers began their own deliberations. And she watched Tara’s eyes close.



“This is crazy,” The reporter admitted in a murmur, watching the blonde’s body begin to swell for her. “I don’t believe in meeting someone and then falling into bed with them. ”



Somehow Tara managed words. “N-neither do I.” Her voice was husky and low. It was as much a testament to the way Willow was making her feel as her expression of pleasure, so intense that it could have been mistaken for pain.



“Should we stop?”



Only she didn’t. Nor did she intend or want to. Her hands…her mouth descending, drawing in. Tasting for the first time, and understanding every bit of why her partner had luxuriated in this before. Only she wasn’t quite as patient. Her mouth opened wider, unceasing in its quick strong pulls. But she was curious too, so she used her teeth - just a little - and then soothed the bite with delicate circles of the tip of her tongue.



“Please?” She heard Tara moan in a broken cry.



Which made her stop. Still so unsure about…everything. Her skill. And the belief that this woman beneath her really, truly wanted her. “Tara?” She asked, her body and heart aching all at once. Afraid of what Tara would say next. Half-certain that reason had inevitably prevailed or that there had been some mistake, realized only, cruelly now. Sometimes things were like that. Often things were like that.



And it was with their eyes locked so, Willow’s gaze a mix of worry and love, that Tara whispered. “Please…don’t stop.”



And she led Willow’s hand again.



******************************************************

She had never in her life been so bold. She idly asked herself the same question she’d been asking all night – who was this person…



But even for her…who was good at thinking…it was hard to think…when…



That small touch was enough to make her heartbeat reverberate throughout her entire body. The exhilarating throbbing rising from her, as if Willow was an ancient chief of some primal tribe and was calling her…calling her body. The reporter’s hand on her was tentative and slow. She could feel Willow’s questioning gaze and forced herself to open her eyes to it. She hadn’t even realized she’d closed her eyes.



One hand lifted and she caressed Willow’s face and down into her hair. She ran kisses over her lover’s shoulders.



She should be filled with more doubt. But she wasn’t, which surprised her. She was…used to doubting herself. She knew this woman wanted her, loved her. It shouldn’t have been possible so quickly…so very quickly. Yet it was. She could see it in her eyes, and could feel it in the air between them. They would fall more in love, as time went on. She was sure of that, and it was a dizzying idea. They would grow together…and shift and bend with the reed of time. They would change and fail…and conquer. Or…at least they could. If they never let go…



Her eyes pleaded that thought, ‘don’t let me go, green eyes.’



Just being with Willow…had given her a greater sense of herself than she’d ever had. Willow added to her. Her love did not clear away all the cobwebs of the past that she still kept in little rooms in her mind. They were still there, but light and hope had been added to those rooms. A new color of observation. Despite all that had happened…despite all she had been through before this night or during it…she still felt stronger with Willow than she ever had in her life. Love could do that, it could bridge a night like this one into tomorrow. It could take pain and make it glory. This, she realized, is what I was trying to fight for on the beach.



This.



“Do you…do you think we could have a h-happy ending?”



Willow withdrew her hand to Tara’s hip, and then her thigh, resting it there, pausing. Her expression was tender. She laid Tara’s hand over her heart. “I’m…I’m kind of betting on it.”



This.



Their eyes glowed with joy…with hope…with believing.



This.



It was that simple and that complicated.



She pulled gently on that hand resting on her thigh, until it found the heat of her again…still so hot and eager.



“Willow, will you d-do something for me?”



“Anything.”



The pleading was still half there. Her expression was full of need…and love…and asking…and begging...and perhaps some insisting. “Kiss me?”



Their mouths found each other, and all the doubts and questions and pain swirled in that kiss…but so did promises, and love, and trust.



There were words then:



“Can I?”



“Please.”



“More.”



But that was all, all until Willow had undressed her, and found her...ever so ready, slick with waiting and need. Her fingers running up and down slowly. Stroking over and around. And around again. And…oh…around again. And then, because Willow was oh so observant…that stroking became constant. Her fingers rolling slowly that vulnerable place of coiled nerves that coiled tighter and tighter with every small touch.



****************************************



It was easy to make love to Tara. Despite all the initial nervousness, and some apprehension when she realized she didn’t know…exactly…what she was doing. She knew the semantics, of course. But that was postulation…and it wasn’t a beautiful woman bared to her sight, and opening wider to her purposeful fingertips.



She wanted to sink into Tara, pushing in deep and holding there. Waiting there. But she was distracted by Tara’s low moans when she touched her clit. It was…very distracting hearing the blonde say her name like that. Or give a gasp that was somewhere between surprise and surrender. And Willow, who had always been somewhat impatient about things, found suddenly that she had all the patience in the world.



She drew back from the place she’d been paying such lavish attention to up till now, and instead teased with the promise of entering. She circled, and applied just enough pressure…but then again not enough pressure. She hinted at penetration again and again, but then pulled back. Until Tara took her wrist lightly and Willow kissed her gently, murmuring soothing words against her cheek.



And then she was inside. She did wait then…feeling Tara’s body close…so hot… around her fingertips. Her own body pulsed in response. She bit her lower lip lightly at the pleasure of it…being drawn inside this woman she already loved and now was loving. She drew back, and then pushed inside again deeper…still slow. But she kept having to tell herself that last part, because all patience had left her. She wanted…she wanted… Something other than slow.



She pushed inside Tara again.



Again…



And again…



And every time…each and every time, she felt her love, her sweet love, contract around her fingers, her own body answered. That sharp pulse of her own desire twisted tighter…growing more intense. She kissed Tara heatedly, and it felt at times that their tongues were clashing against one another. Desire spiraling high in both of them, their needs harmonizing then crashing against one another, only to unify again. Her tongue became greedy, wanting to be deeper and deeper… wanting Tara to open and open.



Wanting Tara.



Her fingers and her tongue enveloped by soft heat – mimicking one another’s unceasing movements.



She had never kissed anyone like this. So impossibly hungry…too hungry…too…so many feelings she couldn’t hold them all in her mind. And so she was overcome...lost. Moving to join with and separate again and again from the woman she loved in that old echo of life.



Tara’s hands had splayed against her back, and now they rolled into fists. They were holding Willow close. Her mouth was against Willow’s cheek and her small cries were heated on Willow’s earlobe and face. Pushing and pulling…in and out. Faster now...because Tara’s hips were moving and asking…and demanding. And because her body too had quickened beyond the point of caution.



Tara’s body was molten, and Willow could feel her tense and tense…pulled taut. Waiting. Waiting…



Wanting…



She was most of all, as Willow had earlier observed…beautiful. Every part of her. Everything.



“I love you.” Willow sighed, and it was at that moment that Tara tumbled over the edge into bliss, her voice helplessly echoing Willow’s words of love.



************************************************************



Tara found her favorite spot. The top of her head just brushing Willow’s chin and her cheek pressed to the pillow of her lover’s breast. This was, after all, where she could hear the steady, if rapid, twinned sound of a heartbeat. She thought, if only she could hear that sound each night as she slept, and be lucky enough to have it be the first thing she heard every morning – that all of her life would be replete with meaning.



Willow was not asleep, but rather still holding her tight. Had it been minutes or hours since she had been made to feel as if she was falling off the edge of the earth? Caught by Willow, and at the same time held by her all the way up, and all the way down. Tethered and guided by those small hands, so gentle…and so demanding all at once.



She felt herself blush.



Well, maybe she had been demanding too, come to think of it. The way she had pushed against Willow and well...other signs her body had made…not to mention her voice. Her moans half muffled by her lover’s kisses.



All for the best. She had forgotten where she was. Whose house she was in.



Her own trembling had stopped, and soft kisses were being rained on the crown of her hair. But then she noticed that…Willow’s body, bare and pressed around her was too tense, and that if she had stopped shivering…Willow still was.



She rose from those arms, and smiled at the soft protest this elicited from the redhead. But a wicked, loving smile was lifting her lips and thoughts were in her mind…desires in her soul that could not be denied. She took her love’s hands and kissed them, first one and then the other.



“Are you alright?” Willow asked.



“Almost perfect.” Was the soothing answer.



“Almost?” She could see Willow’s mind begin to swirl frantically. She could imagine Willow running through a mental checklist…and wondering what had been missed. Willow…was perhaps prone to worrying, Tara realized. “But…but…um...you seemed to kind of…enjoy it? I think? If not, if you tell me what I did wrong…or maybe what I didn’t do. If there’s books somewhere…maybe not in the U.S.A…cause we’re all repressed but maybe in France. They’re progressive thinkers aren’t they? The French?”



“There are books,” Tara confirmed. “But you don’t need them.”



“Oh.” And then with a smile. “Oh.”



“You look very smug suddenly.” Tara noted, with a mock stern expression.



Willow cleared her throat. “Sorry. Very sorry.” Her expression still did not mirror her words. “So…if…everything’s okay…can you come back here, please? I didn’t tell you but…I’m kind of a cuddler.”



The combination of pouting and utter seriousness in the redhead’s expression was endearing. “I promise you many, many cuddles.” The blonde answered, just as seriously. “But I want you to do something for me.”



“Cuddles aren’t supposed to be conditional.”



Tara’s lips quirked upwards “My tyranny over the cuddles will only last a few minutes.”



“Free the cuddles, I say!” Willow teased, then with an air of abdicating the point, she continued. “What can I for you, oh Queen of the cuddles?”



“You can come sit on the edge of the bed, Brunhilda.” She paused after saying that. Afraid it would cause Willow to think and remember all the wrong things. But Willow’s mind did not have that shadow now…not now. Though there were questions in her gaze and Tara suspected just doing as she was told – without knowing why - wasn’t easy for her. The reporter reached out when she was near enough and took her lover’s hand. They sat there quietly for a moment. They did not look at each other, unexpectedly feel bashful. They were both thinking, and wondering, many things.



“This is a really good feeling.” Willow said finally. Tara forced herself to look up. Those green eyes still sleepy with passion, none the less were filled with brightness...and in them, she saw only hope and her own reflection. “Being with you, I mean.”



She had needed that validation, and she hadn’t even been aware of it. Reality had begun to creep in, and with it all of her doubts…all of her usual, practically comfortable doubts.

“Do you think you could get used to it?”



And as she had said the words earler, that same smile and those words rose up again. “I’m…kind of betting on it.”



“I’m kind of betting on it too.”



They shared a kiss. Tender and light, wrapping their arms around one another after and listening to the silence and the sound of one another breathing. Until Tara drew back again, and knelt down on the floor just before Willow. She nuzzled her lover’s thigh, pressing her warm cheek there, rubbing there, her long hair tickling Willow’s inner thigh.



She heard the reporter draw in a high, sharp breath. “You make me forget everything except you. Loving you. You did earlier tonight when you kissed me. You did just now. But…we aren’t totally alone in this house. We have to be very…” She kissed bare skin…light, open mouthed. “Very…” Her tongue swirled a slow, lazy circle upward. “Quiet. Can…you do that?”



******************************************



Willow had never found it within her capacity to demand anything. Honestly, it was often hard for her to even ask, unless she was sure the person in question might want to do what she was asking, or at the very least needed to do it for safety or in order to save the world…or something. But requests that were strictly personal, needs that she couldn’t guarantee the reception of, she often tucked deep away, instead of voicing.



It was…safer. Much better than rejection, so she had thought, is denial. Not that she liked denial. She was no good at self-denial at all. Willow knew very well that often when she felt hurt, or ignored, those hurt feelings could and would manifest themselves in other ways.



Occasionally in moping. But more often…in brooding. In getting away and…sullenly thinking. Refusing to do much else, actually – for a time at least. Eventually she got over it, eventually she always did.



So her behavior since meeting Tara was surprising. Her ever-present hesitation and tentativeness was gone with this woman.



She’d asked for a kiss earlier. And then all but demanded cuddles. Which was unlike her.



But with Tara, it was alright.



Tara had seemed so shy at first. Just as hesitant. But…that too had passed into something else. A kind of comfort, a kind of confidence. What was blooming in the woman she loved was a new Tara, she thought: Tara unafraid, Tara loved, Tara trusted. The same was true of herself.



And heaven help her, there had been nothing shy about the way she had made love to Tara, or how she had kissed her…or even the sliding movements of her fingers. Just as now, there was nothing irresolute about Tara’s mouth now, tracing paths up and up her thighs. Or her love’s hands that were drawing her apart. An image of a peach came to her mind, she was made ripe, plucked, and then devoured.



And there was nothing hesitant about the way Willow’s fingers dove into Tara’s hair, pressing her closer.



Tara’s fingers pressed deep then, her tongue dancing slowly, repetitively, over the most sensitive part of her lover. It took all the self-control Willow had, had ever had…to stop from crying out.



From screaming her girl’s name.



Again and again and again.

[OhGroovetasticOne]

Gorgeous, absolutely beautiful. I can't think of anything else to say about this. Thank you for sharing this.

- Katie

[the vamp nurd]

wow...

Sorry I missed church, I was busy becoming a lesbian and worshiping Satan



Bardlet no #27

[Grimlock72]

Wow look at that... all of sudden not one but TWO updates



I like that while both Willow and Tara are insecure about what to do and how to behave they DO know they want each other. Which has the added benifit of them becoming more bold in their actions, heh.



I can understand Xander's reaction back in the appartment, it was my intial reaction too. However he doesn't seem to understand (as Tara does) that if Willow had gone through with the rat-spell it would have damaged/changer her. Those moronic officers are simply not worth that price.



Giles gently tries to steer Willow away from doing magic out of anger. Trying to make her see the possible dangers of that for herself and others. Much better method than another Giles used, heh Liked this line of wisdom: “Don’t let tonight be what shapes you.”, good advice that.



It was sad to read that Tara feels/felt that all the good things in life were just out of her reach. The entire "I am *just* me" line and the spiral into thinking less of her self, good thing she got over that. She can be brave indeed, which I think was mostly surprising to Tara herself... not so much for anyone who knows her.



Oh yeah, the bantering in the bedroom was fun. Cuddles shouldn't be held hostage indeed... good thing it's only temporary . Very subtle written love-scene at the end, different and nicely done.



Grimmy

--
"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

[2DIAMONDS]

That was really, truly, and utterly beautiful. Wonderful. Passionate. Joyful. I mean the list of adjectives to describe this part goes on and on.



It's understandable that they would worry if they were moving too fast. Neither Willow or Tara thought they would meet, fall in love, and make love with another woman that night. And they certainly didn't expect to find themselves on the beach, half-naked and being subjected to the cruelty and ignorance of men sworn to protect them. But they made it through, together. And one of the most important things I've ever learned is not to deny yourself love.



I'm betting on a happy ending too. & forever.



Helen

xoxo

[Stroke of Luck]

OMG that was hot ...and you said you cant write smut that well....geez girl u shouldnt say that...god u are a great smut writer....a different style but WOW...



More please i am addicted to your smut style



And that first time between them was gorgeous....*sigh* wow i am lost for words...



More as soon as possible please



Cu

SoL/Natti

This is a duet, Amber! You need to sing!"- Tony

[butcherfly]

Blimey...



You were partly right in saying that you can't write smut, cos I don't think "smut" is the word - it implies lack of sincerity and plot - you've managed to amaze me again by seamlessly fusing the physical and the emotional... You have an enormous talent and it really is a pleasure to read your work!



butcherfly

[bluewillowwitch]

,

OMG! I loved that update! and were so pasionate and they just let that be shown! I am so glade that they didn't let anything stop their love. I can't wait to see what happens in the last chapter! Update soon, please?





bluewillowwitch

---------------------------------------------

"Fate keeps on happening."--Anita Loos

[lipkandy]

Quote:

---

She was being heated deliberately, slowly.

---

and that's exactly what your prose feels like a deliberate, lyrical build. kind of the way I imagine Tara's mind works: elegant, gentle, almost tentative, but sure and confident at the core.



and I know what you mean about writing smut. I've found that (despite numerous attempts) I'm not capable of writing it, but you handled this gracefully. anything smuttier or more explicit would have felt wrong in the context of this story and 'your' Willow and Tara, but this was just pitch perfect.

so...brava!

[/quote]

Edited by: lipkandy at: 8/7/03 6:22 pm

[The Rose24]

This is one of the best descriptions of a love scene I have ever read. Very detailed and beautiful. Keep up the good work.

Tara: My heart doesn't stutter.


Tara: Willow, I got so lost.

Willow: I found you. I will always find you.

[Puff]

MC that was beautiful *Happy sigh*. It was tender, it was passionate, it was everything I thought it would be and more. Thank you for adding on to this story it is wonderful and I look forward to the last part.

---

So, the day started and I knew my name and had my pants on. So far, so good. Yay.
Amber Benson

[xita]

Whoever said it wasn't smut is right. This is intimacy and it really worked here. I know it's hard to believe that strangers would get together like this but you had them talk about it and that made it more believable and well right.



And how cute were they in the previous update:

It required a serious answer, that question. So Willow considered things for a moment and answered as honestly as she could. “I feel it when I look at you. Here and here…” Willow touched her tummy and then laid a hand over her heart. “And…um… in other places I’m not sure we’re supposed to talk about yet.”

Willow's just so adroable here. She knew what she wanted, everything in her was screaming out for Tara, but the way you phrased it, screamed Willow.

- - - - - - - - - - -
"The suspense is terrible. I hope it'll last."

-Willie Wonka

[barnabasvamp]

Smut you say?? I think not!



Another kitten and I were talking about this story, and we both agree that your update was far from smut.



It was making love. Thoughtful, caring, loving, and beautiful.



Great update.

BV

"When choosing between two evils, I always like to take the one I've never tried before"-Mae West

[Willow Rocks]

Wow what a great fic, and im not usually into reading smut but once again i saw wow

[WillowPowered]

holy crap, I love this fic



So when's the next part??



Jill

Edited by: Warduke at: 8/15/03 8:33 am

[shuyaku]

MC,



I must agree with you - you suck at the smut Of course this latest chapter is about as far from smut as you can get. It is easily the most beautifully written first times (actually anytime) I have ever read.





shuyaku

[TareBearRS]

Wow what an update.....



Gotta go now..(runs of to take a very cold shower)...



Reante

***I will make me a willow cabin at your gate and call upon my soul within the house... I rush into the secret house***

[some dark thing]

hi! I'm just passin' through today. Can't stay away, have to check for updates. heh. You see, I'm in another city this month and in an i-cafe right now. So no reply yet.

Right after you took the time to write an answer to my ramblings.

Good thing that there will be 8 parts, I will get some comment in here before the fic is over.



ETA:



you are on line now, aren't you?







see me?

(yes, I'm giddy and bouncy for no reason. didn't get lots of sleep lately. oh, and it's almost 7a.m. here. I have to be IRL in a couple of minutes. *in Terminator tone:* I'll be back with comments.)

Edited by: some dark thing at: 8/9/03 8:53 pm

[mariacomet]

Greeeetttinggs from the wilds of Virginia (or a Quality Inn, as the case may be)



Wanted to touch base with you all.



Firstly, I am moving my girl back in to her place in Boston after our long distance relationship became living together for the summer. Teachers have this whole summers off thing.



So I have been and will continue to be out of regular internet touch for the next few days. Then I'll be back...



(dramatic music swells)



With the END of the Garland Days.



Thank you all so unbelieveably much for all the kind words and thoughts. Who knew writing smut would be almost more stressful then anything else I have written? The encouragement means a lot. And I will, as I have been threatening, say a word to each of you when time allows.



The word will be aspargus. Or possibly Pop-tart. Haven't made up my mind.



Seriously, thank you all very much.



See ya soon .

[good2cats]

Hey!
Virginia is not totally uncivilized.As a native Virginian I take umbrage with the wilds of Virginia comment.I have been walking upright and wearing shoes for at least 2 weeks now.lol
I haven't said it before but I love your story.Coming out in hostile times such as those took great courage it is inspirational as well as entertaining.I was nearly 30 before I came out in the late eighties and I was still scared to death.
Keep up the great work
thanks,Karen