Title: The Garland Days
Part:9/9
Email address: mariacomet@hotmail.comFeedback: If you ask for it, they will come?
Distribution: Just let me know.
Spoilers: Everything before and including season five.
Rating: NC-17.
Disclaimer: All characters contained herein were created and are owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy...at least legally.
Special thanks to: Harvey Milk said: “The blacks did not win their rights by sitting quietly in the back of the bus. They got off! Gay people, we will not win our rights by staying quietly in our closets... We are coming out! We are coming out to fight the lies, the myths, the distortions! We are coming out to tell the truth about gays!”
Thanks to those that refuse to be hidden and that, by this act…give others hope.
The town of Sunnydale had always held many secrets. Or at least that was what Tara Maclay was about to discover….that is, if ten pages written by the woman she loved could be believed.
The story was an introduction to the one girl in all the world - the slayer.
The story began with the meeting of Buffy Summers and Rupert Giles…and it told how Buffy had refused to treat Willow…well, like everyone else did. It told of Willow’s crush on Xander, and the start of his infatuation with Buffy. Most of all it was the story of three young lives finding the courage to face a Hellmouth – together.
Ten pages.
Xander had taken her home so she could collect fresh clothes and what not. Willow had encouraged Tara to go, sending her along with both a kiss and the pages she’d written.
It was confusing for Tara because it seemed so fictional and yet Willow had insisted that this was a true story she was writing. Willow hadn’t said much more, just that it was true and she wanted Tara to know.
To know…
She’d spent a night in the arms of heaven. She’d stumbled upon the safest place on earth. All of the stories she had ever read, that even now formed towers of paperbacks in her room, hadn’t prepared her for feeling this way. There were thoughts about her future the sand of which was undisturbed. It took more courage than she thought she possessed to wander there. She had managed to defy her father but not the voices in her head that told her she was destined to go through life unnoticed. A friend, a student…perhaps a teacher or some other profession that women could have and not be thought of as strange.
She was unremarkable and shy, and never expected anything that was extraordinary. She’d always had a giving heart, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever had a courageous one. The one thing she knew and believed was that the love she dreamed about in the secret parts of herself would not be handed to her. Love that conquered all would test her. It would look into her and find what she valued most and then ask her to risk it all. She had been sure that somehow she would fail. Like a marathon runner running a race, she would somehow be too slow.
But then, she had never been asked to run. It was her own doing; she had kept to herself since she’d left home. She had been asked many places by her friends. There were opportunities out there. She’d just been so certain she would fail. She’d allowed herself to only be a spectator, and had been sure that was her rightful place – on the sidelines, alone. Watching everything she might want, had she dared to allow herself even her longings, pass her by.
Only two soft hands pulled her into the spotlight and showed her how to run….showed her how to fly.
She read what Willow had given her and could only find in herself a quiet certainty.
She should have thought many things.
It was true that she was a witch, and that she believed in the mystical. But believing in it and accepting that it had just eaten your lunch were two different things. Tara had always been a fast reader. But in this case it took her almost a full hour to get through ten pages. She kept re-reading.
She should have felt shocked.
Instead she only felt a sense of knowing. She knew Willow. She knew love.
Sabby was at home, and had shrieked upon seeing her. She’d called the police station, but there was no record that anyone had been taken into custody. She’d stayed in the bar, even after the announcement had been made that the police were coming, but she hadn’t been one of the unlucky ones who’d been taken. The police had forced everyone to leave anyway, and the bar had been shut down for the night.
Apparently Tara was the talk of everyone who had been there. Well…Tara and the lovely redhead that she’d engaged in a fiery kiss with.
Sabby had lived in Sunnydale for a long, long time and had never been anything but forthright with Tara. Sabby being Sabby…she’d wanted details of WHERE Tara had been since she’d last seen her and WHAT she had been doing…and WHO the redhead was that she might have been doing things with.
“You know I’m n-not the type t-to…just…”
“Oh sweetie, I’m not saying you were cruising for anything,” Sabby answered with a broad grin, “but the way you two were swapping spit…there’s no nun habit on you…and she was yummy.”
Tara’s cheeks were seared with red, but she didn’t give any specifics. “She’s….she’s remarkable.”
“Ohhh, someone sounds like they have it bad. Okay, you’re not going to tell me what happened, do I at least get to know her name?”
“Willow. W-W-willow Rosenberg.”
The change that came over her friend was startling. Sabrice was out-going and loved gossip – her love life or others, it didn’t matter. But her features suddenly shut down. Her gaze became thoughtful and…there was something else…concern and uncertainty.
“What?” Tara asked. “D-do you…know her?”
“No.” Sabby shook her head, seemingly trying to chase away whatever she had been thinking a moment before. “I mean, I know of her. Most people who have been here awhile know about her.” She drew back, sitting cross-legged in the beanbag chair opposite Tara. “There’re things about this town that no one has ever talked about.” The questions bubbled up in the blonde and her roommate held up a hand, trying to stop the barrage she knew might come at any moment. “Tara…it’s hard to explain. People used to disappear a lot. My…My sister did.”
Tara hadn’t known. She doubted any of their other roommates knew either. Sabby always seemed so carefree, so ready to jump from one party to the next.
“They found her later…the fuzz said she o.d.’d.” She went on.
“I’m really sorry.” Tara said gently.
Her friend’s lips pressed into a bitter line. “To hear the cops tell it, Sunnydale was the capital of drugs and gangs…and freak acts of nature.”
“You d-didn’t believe them.” It was a statement, not a question. Blue eyes were calm, ever compassionate.
Sabrice shook her head in the negative. “No one did. I mean, come on, no one is that clueless. But it was freaky…no one questioned it either.”
“Did…did something happen to W-Willow? Is that why everyo-o-one knows h-her?”
“Rosenberg, her friend Buffy and…Xander Harris. They were all friends and they all had this incredible knack for showing up when something terrible was about to happen. I mean…it was uncanny. It was like they could see into the future or something. I don’t know how many people they saved, and no one ever wanted to talk about the circumstances of it all…but there were whispers…every day there were whispers about someone else who owed Buffy and her friends. A few years ago, Buffy died…” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes dimmed a little. “A lot of us went to her funeral. We weren’t even sure why. We just knew that she’d tried to help. And after Buffy died…things were different in this town.”
“How did…how did she die?” Tara’s eyes were shadowed by what she knew, by what she’d read. It was a story of the beginning, and it made her realize how little she knew about the ending.
“No one knows. But I’ll tell ya, the day it happened, it’s like all those gangs and drug dealers and acts of nature…suddenly cut out of town. I’ve never seen Rosenberg…but I’ve heard stories about her for years. Most people give her and Xander Harris a wide berth.”
“B-b-but…if she did something to help w-with what w-as going on…”
“I’m not saying it makes sense. Maybe we were afraid because they were able to do things no one can explain. I don’t know. But…people have always thought she’s different, Tare.”
The blonde’s chin lifted. “She is. I think s-she believes she can change the world. And w-when I’m with her…I feel that way too. And s-suddenly I b-b-become someone I’ve always wanted to be.”
Her friend’s lips lifted briefly. “Yeah, you two were pretty radical last night.”
Tara’s lips blossomed into a grin and she reached out and touched the hand-written pages in front of her. “I think…I think we’re j-j-just getting started.” A sense of awe filled her as she spoke the next words. “I love her.”
“Tara, you just met her!”
Tara stood, carrying the ten pages with her. “I know. And we should probably have taken our time. Last night b-brought so much to the surface. I feel like I know her…I just…”
Her friend gave a Cheshire cat smile. “Finally. It’s about time, girl. I’ve always thought that what you needed to get you out of your shell was someone to sweep you off your feet.”
“Oh, I’m swept.” Tara admitted with a grin. Then a glint of mischief entered her blue eyes. “B-by the way…she’s incredible in bed.” She winked and chose that as her exit line.
“What?!!” Sabrice called after her.
***************************
“You told her about Buffy?” Giles repeated.
Willow knew this next part might not go over well. “Well…I had to.” He looked to her expectantly and she almost lost her courage. “Giles…” She began slowly. “I have something to tell you.” Now his expression was concerned, which wasn’t at all what she had been going for. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s not like icky and scary…I mean, maybe it’s...a little scary? But not all with the Grrrr…ahhhh things are after me scary.”
Rupert Giles had learned to be patient as he assisted these young people. They all had…peculiarities. They had seen….they had done what no one should have ever been asked to. They should have had a normal life, with nothing on their minds in their teenaged years but dating and clothes…and…other teenaged things. He found all of them to be remarkable. He loved them, and though it was against his nature to be overly sentimental or affectionate, he did try to show them – in his own way. Often by playing the role of listener and advisor.
“Willow,” He said quietly. “Surely you know that there’s nothing you can say that would shock me.”
“I had to tell her because…I’m in love with her. I’m in love with Tara.”
Rupert Giles’s eyes grew wide for a moment and he blinked at her. In fact, he was outright owlish. “I see.” He said. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I…see.” He repeated. “Would you excuse me for a moment?” Without another word, he ducked into the kitchen.
Willow thought it best to follow him and ignore his request, just this once. “Giles, I’m sorry if…I mean…it’s probably a shock. It kinda was to me, too.”
“Well…yes…It is...um…unexpected.” He muttered and he fumbled for a glass of water. “And she…um…Tara…she feels…?”
“Well, as of last night it was pretty mutual. But…Giles, are you okay?”
“Yes. Yes, of course.” He took a long sip of water. “One did not expect one to have certain preferences. So one does find oneself surprised…however if you give one a few moments, one will…likely adjust.”
“Giles, could you please not call yourself ‘one’ anymore? It’s giving me the creeps.”
He saw how distressed she was, how much his opinion mattered to her. His lips lifted briefly. If he’d ever had a daughter…he would have wanted her to be…like Buffy and Willow. He hid his pride in them too often. And whether he admitted it or not, he did feel quite fatherly…quite protective. “You said…you love her?”
“Giles, I know you might not agree with how I feel…” She began slowly.
He shook his head, his brow wrinkling in thought, trying to find a way to advise her as always. “Willow, it’s a matter of there being so many uncertainties.”
“Uncertainties?” She echoed. “Giles…. Even when Buffy was alive…” He looked up sharply, it was as if she had broken a taboo by mentioning the slayer. They didn’t talk about her, and when they did they didn’t mention anything in conjunction with unpleasantness. Sometimes it was as if Buffy was on vacation somewhere and not gone. “When Buffy was alive,” Willow forged ahead. “I mean you had the sharp-teethed, pale-skinned types that you knew you probably should stake. But there were plenty of uncertainties. It didn’t stop us from…”
“When Buffy was alive, there were very few choices.” He answered quietly.
“And what choice do you think I have now? How can I help who I love?”
His features tightened as he weighed the future of a couple such as Willow and Tara. “With all due respect,” He began quietly, emphatically. “How can you possibly be sure what you feel about her after one night?”
“I don’t know,” She fumbled slightly, feeling the conversation reel away from her. That he would disapprove did cross her mind, but she’d thought that those three little words were something of an end game. That once he understood her heart was at stake, it would hold more meaning for him than anything else. Wasn’t that the way it worked with people who loved you? “I don’t know, I just…”
“Take things one step at a time. I’m not suggesting you don’t see this girl, but…perhaps the heat of the moment has unduly influenced you.”
“You make her sound like alcohol. Like I went out and got drunk last night, and now it’s time to go back to being good old square Willow.”
She watched him regroup, but not before she saw the flash of discomfort her words had caused. “There’s nothing wrong with being good old square Willow.” Giles said gently.
“Except if good old square Willow decides to date another woman.”
He let his glasses dangle from his fingertips, and weariness seemed to shadow his face. The expression of a man who had seen those he cared about in too much pain, too much that he couldn’t stop…couldn’t help carry. “The world isn’t kind to those who are different. When Buffy was alive, how many times did you, she and Xander feel like outsiders? How many times did people walk right past you and pretend you weren’t there? And then…it was because you made people uncomfortable. Now, they’ll hate you.”
“But…but what happened to what you said last night? All that ‘let what you hope the world could be shape you and not what it is’ talk?”
The former watcher made a helpless gesture. “I suppose it’s easier to say that kind of thing after danger has passed than when someone you care for is marching directly toward it. It…wouldn’t be an easy life, Willow.” He struggled for words, at a loss, as he sometimes was between his head and his heart. “I had hoped… you deserve peace. And unabridged happiness. You’ve earned it.”
“I found it. She makes me feel that way.” Willow insisted.
“There’s a price, isn’t there? Last night…and there will be more. Hate can be fanned so quickly, Willow. The world can tolerate one thing today - hand you over to forces that would destroy you tomorrow - and be secretly joyful that you are gone.”
Willow took a step toward him, hearing all he had said and knowing that he was only telling her the truth. Also knowing that there were higher things than frightening truths. “I have to make a choice. I have to choose to be happy or to be safe. I have to make a choice – to live or be controlled by fear.” She searched her mind for all the right words to say to convince him, and suddenly knew that she couldn’t.
All she could do was tell him what was in her heart, and…accept whatever happened.
“I’m sorry if it’s not what you hoped for for me.” She said quietly. “And you’re right…I have a choice to be with her or not. But what she makes me feel…that’s not a choice. For the first time, I’m feeling something that I believe I can build a life on….and that’s not a choice either.”
“She has the most amazing vision of the world.” She continued, her voice shaking as she weighed all of what was inside her against losing the love and respect of someone who’d helped her become who she was. “Right and wrong. And what it means to love. What it means to fight. I’ve gone through my whole life being the smartest one in the room. But last night she taught me. The way I feel with her…it’s like so much of me was sleeping and it found a reason to wake up. I used to be…braver.” She bolstered herself, lifting her shoulders. “After Buffy died, I hardened. I became afraid. Not entirely. Not all of me. But enough so that I began to second guess…everything. I let myself have blinders, and I stayed on my path…and my dreams became so small. She makes me want to take the blinders off, and change my path, and dare myself…dare everything. She makes me dream again.” Her eyes beseeched him to try and understand. “I never thought I’d meet someone who made everything seem so simple, so clear. I don’t think there are many people like her out there. I have to follow her…follow this feeling. I have to.”
He was silent for a long moment, then he set down the glass of water. “You know that I worry…that I say things that may seem harsh because…” He stopped there, the words seeming to catch inside him. He cleared his throat. “Well…because.”
As a precaution, she had prepared herself for the worst, for losing him. Children believe that those they love will stay with them forever. But as adults, we slowly come to realize that choices can be as dividing as death. Now, gratitude dared to leap in her. “So you’re all right…with Tara and me, I mean?”
He met her eyes unflinchingly. “I don’t think Buffy died for a world where anyone had the right to tell her best friend whom she can and cannot love. You and Tara always have a place here, for as long as you want one.”
She stepped toward him, knowing he wasn’t a man prone to emotional outbursts. She hugged him anyway and was surprised when he tightened the embrace and kissed her forehead lightly.
She drew in a shaky breath, feeling tears sting her eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told her.”
“Give her time.” He murmured soothingly, hoping he was right. Sometimes love could be unexpected and sometimes people weren’t who you thought they were. It could be devastating finding out you were oh so wrong. He hoped with all his heart that she would be spared that kind of pain. Her words had left no doubt how taken she was with Tara.
She deserved happiness, but this was a hard road. Still, they’d all gone down hard roads, hadn’t they? He couldn’t help but worry. The world was not fair. It was not kind. She had already been through so much.
He held her another moment, uncertain what else to do or say…wishing it was in his power to protect her from all the dangers, from all the nights like the one before, from all the fights that couldn’t be won, but had to be survived. From all the hate that could only be tamed by time.
“Dust in my eye.” The former watcher commented, finally releasing her and rubbing at his eyes.
“Oh yeah, mine too.” She said, sniffling.
*****************************
It had been an hour since the conversation with Giles, and though they hadn’t talked any more about it, they had both remained rather quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Giles made them tea and every once in awhile they would give one another wry looks, acknowledging that they both had a lot on their minds, without saying anything aloud.
“Anyone home?”A male voice called. “Let’s try the kitchen, Tara.” Xander was saying and that’s where Willow’s mind stuck.
Tara?
“Hey, here you are.” Xander entered the kitchen, and lifted himself on one of the counters. Tara moved into the doorway, holding a small overnight bag. Willow caught her best friend’s greeting but couldn’t focus on it.
“Hi.” The redhead said, almost breathlessly.
“Hi.” Tara answered. Willow felt as if it was the most romantic thing that had ever been said to her.
*****************************************
Tara felt a fist of anticipation curl and hold in her chest. She devoured Willow’s expression, but not because she was looking for doubt or confirmation. Though, she was afraid…she was conscious that this was the fabled morning after.
But all she knew now…was Willow was here. Willow, so beautiful and brave…who could hold terrible anger and astonishing compassion.
She knew what it felt like to be held by this woman.
Awe, and wonder…and memories…and the power of being with her again all assailed her.
Xander looked from one woman to the other, feeling like he had missed something. “I told you I was gonna get her on my way back from the station.”
“Um…hi” The blonde repeated, she and Willow still transfixed by one another.
“Did you…did you read it?”
Tara nodded eagerly, grateful to have a simple yes or no question to start things out with. There was so much that she was feeling, that she wondered if Willow was feeling…that she hoped…that she wondered. “Oh y-y-yes. Several times.”
“You know I…you know it’s all true…I mean...well clearly I’m not 5’9”…and okay, it was Xander that knew about Buffy first and not me…but I mean…it’s true.”
“She knows about Buffy?” The police officer exclaimed. “She knows what I knew?”
Willow turned her attention to her best friend for a moment. “I started trying to write that book about Buffy again. I wrote ten pages yesterday. I let Tara read it.”
“Well,” Giles began carefully breaking into the silence that followed Willow’s words. “Tara, I can only imagine what you must be thinking. It must seem impossible to believe.”
“Yes…but I…I do believe.” All eyes went to her. They didn’t seem sure they had heard correctly.
“Everything?” The redhead was suddenly pressing. “Cause I don’t know if I’d believe me if I were you.”
“Well,” A light danced in Tara’s eyes. “Was Mr. G-Giles really in his late twenties when he and Buffy met?”
The watcher in question straightened. “I may have asked Willow to adjust a decade or so, in the interest of…um…readability.”
“Ten years?!” Xander exclaimed. “You gave him ten years but you wouldn’t give me a decent car? I was only asking for a Ford.”
“Xander,” Willow said sharply, “We’ll talk about it later. ”
“Willow, could you help me with my things?” Tara asked delicately. “I b-brought enough clothes for a few days like Xander suggested.” She looked quickly to the older man. “Is that alright, Mr. Giles?”
“Of course.” Giles said quickly. “Willow, I trust you can help Tara settle in.”
A smile, so broad that it seemed like sadness had never touched it, was the answer.
The two women departed quickly, heading in the direction of the stairs.
Giles turned to the other man suddenly. “Did you know that Willow and Tara are…well…interested in one another?”
“You didn’t?” Xander asked, taking delight in the opportunity to tease his friend and father figure. “It’s obvious.” Giles blinked rapidly and looked toward the stairs. “You…ah…okay with everything?” The policeman asked more seriously.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you?”
Xander gave a small shrug. “I’m trying to adjust to Willow being interested in women…and yet being with me for as long as she was. All in all my ego has had better days. But…” He smiled softly…and didn’t finish, he didn’t have to.
“Despite being terrified for her…you’re also proud?” The older man prompted.
“Pretty much.”
Giles drew in a deep breath, a tender ache touching his soul. “Buffy would be too.” He rubbed at his eyes again for the second time that day. “Good gracious, where did all the dust in here come from?”
*************************************************************
So much was aching inside Tara…to talk, to make love, to whisper tender words…to not say anything at all and just touch Willow’s face and hair. Reading who Willow had been, that act of trust, it was only confirmation her life had been forever altered.
Could Willow be feeling all of this? All she was feeling? It terrified her to think that. It terrified her to think that her lover felt any less than she did.
Willow drew in a deep breath and let it out. Tara darted a glance at her. They hadn’t spoken yet though they both had tried. They were holding hands and stealing glances, and occasionally catching one another and giving shy, embarrassed grins.
“I d-d-don’t know why I’m so nervous.” Tara said finally.
“Are you um…regretting anything?” Willow asked slowly, her voice suddenly small.
“Oh, Willow no.” Tara cried out. “No…p-please don’t…”
Green eyes dared to meet blue. “No?”
“Never.” The single word allowed for no argument. “I know how I feel…and I think I know how you feel…but part of me…part of me is s-s-sure I must be wrong. So there’s this part of me that…keeps thinking…that any moment you’re going to tell me that it was just…that we can’t be together.”
The heat of last night came back to her. She had never in her life been so out of control with someone. There was an energy, something old and present between them…an attraction that radiated from Tara to Willow and back again. She could feel it even now, even though they weren’t that close. They were alone…they were…here, in this room. She wondered if she should be embarrassed. No one else had ever made her walk that edge of greed and insatiability…and need. Willow had made her forget everything – the night, where they were, her own ever-present shyness and reservations. The woman she loved had sculpted her into Aphrodite for those long hours, and she had felt as though she were the embodiment of radiance and passion, and love.
What was she supposed to say? How could she explain that that person wasn’t really her? That she was…well…not entirely the woman Willow had met last night. But that she wanted to be. That she liked the person she became when she was with Willow. That…she felt unconfined, unchained, unveiled…suddenly.
Willow searched the softness of Tara’s gaze with her own, then she moved on her knees in front of the woman she loved. She took one of Tara’s hands, then bent her head and kissed the palm.
The corners of Willow’s lips crinkled as she smiled. “You know, I’ll prove to you I’m yours if I have to…and…” Another soft kiss on Tara’s palm. “That you’re mine.”
************************************
Once again with the boldness….the words stunned the reporter…and um…she had said them.
But Tara was smiling, and more than that, the energy between them had surged. They were still barely touching, but now long slim fingers were sinking into her hair.
Willow closed her eyes at the caress. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come back.” She admitted, and she laid her cheek momentarily in Tara’s lap. Her lover’s arms came around her.
“Oh love, that was never a possibility.” The blonde pressed kisses to her brow. Every touch made both their fear-filled souls mend a little more. “I’ve k-k-known what I wanted all of my life…but when push came to shove, I a-a-always gave in. Or settled. Or let other people take it away from me. Before we even met, I wanted you…You’re the one thing my whole life I didn’t let others or myself change. I’m not used to being someone who risks or who fights, but I will for you.”
“And I will for you.” Willow echoed.
The reporter lifted her head. She leaned up and their mouths crashed sensually. The kisses were deep and frenzied for a moment before Willow drew back, shivering with the force of what Tara inspired in her.
She had never felt like this in her whole life, so quickly her mind tumbled out of control, her body and her heart having their way…surrendering and needing. It was powerful…and it shook her down to her foundation, then lifted her and recreated her. Each and every time…each and every touch. A renewal…a birth…the essence of her life burning like a star in her chest as she ascended with Tara, and even after…quieting but not dimming.
Tara became her wings and her dance…and she believed – completely – that life was a sky, that life was music urging her on. She believed unequivocally that it was good. She was sharing it with Tara, and so it couldn’t be anything else.
“You know I like cuddling?”
The blonde laughed. “I got that.” Then she said, “You know I know lots of um…strange historical and literary facts that I’ll tend to um…bring up. Especially if I f-feel uncertain.”
“I could be called – occasionally – a babbler.”
“With me, there’s the stutter.” Tara countered.
“I can’t carry a tune, and have been known to pout.”
“I can, kind of, gather anger. Like…not tell people things until…kablam?”
“I can be a bit…um…obsessive.”
The blonde worried her lower lip. “Um, I should tell you something. It’s um…about the story pages you gave me.”
************************************
“Yeah, I know…I think when I write I kinda…” The redhead fumbled for a moment longer before blurting. “I think it sounds like an instruction manual.”
It wasn’t as bad as all that, Tara thought. Not even close. But it had been hard to get into, and hard to fee1.
Books had been a part of her life for so long, and she felt she knew what Willow was going for…but she hadn’t been guided there. Willow’s impatience showed in the way she told the tale, it seemed jerky in places and yet…in others flowing.
It must have been hard to write…especially about Buffy. Especially since Buffy’s friend had been working on it for a long time.
Which is why she was feeling so apologetic.
Tara pulled back from Willow just long enough to reach for her bag. From it, she produced an envelope. “Um, I don’t k-k-know if I sh-should have but…I made some notes.”
Willow shook her head in absolute wonderment. “I love you.” Tara felt her worries slipping away…until her lover said…“There’s…there’s lots of green.”
“I…I didn’t want to use red.” She knew it was feeble, even as she said it.
“LOTS of green.” Willow repeated.
“Oh, but a lot of it’s good…I liked it a lot. I’m s-s-sorry if I….y…you said this was important to you so I…”
She hadn’t been able to help herself…it had so much promise…so much was right with it. It had started with the opening. The blonde had been sure that if she made an adjustment here and there, the opening would leave the readers dying to find out more. And the opening became the first page…and it was wrong, she had told herself, when she was staring at ten green-laden pages.
She’d had no right. This was not what Willow had asked her to do. She’d been given the pages as a gift, as a symbol of trust. Her love was bound to be hurt by this, bound to feel insulted.
Tara slowly reached for the pages.
****************************************
Something in Willow was utterly content.
Finally, it said, at the thought of pages filled with suggestions and constructive criticism – both good and bad. And Tara, she noted, had been very careful to be even with her comments…there was a lot that was positive, thank goodness.
“Hey…you’re reaching.” She noted and tugged the papers away from the repentant-looking Tara.
“I can be…obsessive too. I think I went a little…marker happy.”
“I want you here…” She pointed down, indicating the house and with her, in general. “And here.” She laid her hand over her heart. “And here.” She held up the pages. “I’ll keep reminding you of that, if you’ll keep reminding me.”
“And maybe one day…we can just know, w-w-without the reminding. But Willow…I think that may be awhile.”
“Yeah,” Willow agreed. “This love stuff requires a lot of reminding.” Then she gave a tender smile. “And…I like the idea of having a writing partner.”
“Not just a writing partner.” The blonde countered and the sudden smoky look in her eyes was unmistakable.
Willow’s heart skipped a beat. I want to share this…I want to show her off to the world, to everyone.
And then something in her realized, and with that realization, her hopes sank just a little.
She had to be careful. They had to be.
They couldn’t tell everyone. They couldn’t show everyone. Not now. It might affect Tara’s school and Willow’s job…and it might even affect those they loved. They might be able to get away with being known as ‘those lesbians’ but showing it…saying it was another matter entirely.
She wanted to say to hell with everyone…to hell with what the world thought.
Willow wanted to do that, but something in her knew that it wasn’t realistic. There was too much to fight, and they were going to have to pick their battles.
She took in a deep breath. Okay…so that wasn’t the best of all worlds. But she could live with it. As long as she fought to change things, as long as they battled to make things better.
Edited by: mariacomet at: 9/5/04 8:01 pm
by barnabasvamp » Sun Aug 10, 2003 12:55 pm 
, bad news...it will be over. 
Yipee for you! 
mariacomet 
,
I am so glad that you are back. Okay I think that everyone at one time or another has felt the same way that 
is felling right now or how 
is feeling. 
It is a very hard thing to be strong in the face of a society that tells you not to be. But you have to stand strong and fight your deamon. 
more. Update soon, please? 
Gosh, when you finally come back to a story, you do so whole heartedly!
I'm sure this update will generate some conversation!
. 
