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TITLE: Hacker Confidential
AUTHOR: Laragh
CHAPTER RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Willow, Tara and any other characters from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer franchise belong to Joss Whedon, FOX, ME and a whole host of other entities, none of which are me.
SUMMARY: AU, set in contemporary setting. A lot of W/T fluff and some semblance of a storyline.
SPOILERS: AU fic, so at most minor references or pieces of dialogue
FEEDBACK: Yes please
Chapter 50********
Previously:Tara left the kitchen and Willow quickly washed her hands and splashed her face with water to get rid of the flush she knew would be on there before turning just in time to see her father walk in the kitchen with her wife. She walked over and gave him a hug.
“Thanks for coming, Dad. Happy Hanukkah
“Happy Hanukkah,” Ira greeted back, before reaching into his pocket, “I know you guys do the gift thing at Christmas instead but this isn’t really a gift, I just thought...”
Ira shyly handed Willow a small mesh pouch filled with gold-foiled chocolate coins, something she’d been given every year the first night of Hanukkah as a child.
“Thank you, Dad,” Willow said, her eyes glistening with unshed, happy tears.
“I got you some, too, Tara,” Ira said, producing another mesh bag and handing it to his daughter-in-law, “I wasn’t sure how much you knew but it’s a Hanukkah tradition.”
“Gelt, right?” Tara asked, smiling and twirling the bag in her fingers, “Thank you.”
“This is awesome,” Willow said, biting her lip in almost child-like excitement, then turned to her wife, “We can totally play dreidel with these later. I bet I’ll win all your candy.”
Tara scoffed playfully.
“As if, I’m a master of the game.”
She’d had a knack for the holiday game ever since Willow had brought it out to play their first Hanukkah together but after playing the real game a few times, they’d decided to make it more interesting and invented their own rules.
Namely turning it into ‘strip dreidel’.
Both girls remembered their game at the same time and looked at each other, blushing before averting their gazes.
“Is that brisket I smell?” Ira asked, not noticing the girl’s blush.
“It is indeed,” Willow replied, happy for the change in subject, “And I made Kugel and the latkes are all ready to go!”
Ira clapped his hands together.
“Wow, a feast fit for kings.”
Tara was about to comment when something caught her eye and she gulped, quickly putting a hand on Ira’s back, guiding him towards the living room.
“Come and sit down, Ira, I’ll get you a drink.”
Willow looked confused at the sudden movement and her confusion only increased when Tara looked back and mouthed ‘spice rack’ before disappearing out the door with Ira.
“Spice rack?” she whispered to herself, “What’s on the-oh shit!”
Her wife’s meaning became clear as her gaze fell on the spice rack and she saw her panties, the ones that Tara had thrown away in the middle of their impromptu lovemaking, and she quickly grabbed them and pulled them back on just as Tara came back, her eyes wide.
“That was way too close,” Willow said as Tara took three wine glasses from the cupboard.
“Way too close,” Tara agreed as she opened the bottle of kosher wine they’d bought especially for the occasion, “We need to light the candle soon. It’s almost sundown.”
Willow grinned, her wife’s enthusiasm over lighting the candle was something she’d always found adorable and endearing, especially their first Hanukkah, since it proved to Willow that Tara wanted to be a part of every aspect of her life.
“Is the menorah set up?”
Tara nodded as she retrieved a bottle of wine from the rack above the refrigerator.
“Yep. All ready to go. How long ‘til dinner?”
“Um...” Willow bent down to look through the clear glass of the oven, then glanced at the timer, “Half an hour or so. But I need to start the latkes in about fifteen.”
“Mmhh, I love those things,” Tara replied as she poured wine into each of the glasses, “You ever gonna let me see the recipe?”
“It’s Bubbe’s secret family recipe!” Willow replied in faux-indignation.
Tara moved towards the redhead and handed her one of the glasses of wine, batting her eyelashes to their full effect with her trademark half-smile.
“I thought I was family.”
Willow rolled her eyes with a small grin and turned her body away, pretending to check the food, more to try and quash the feelings of arousal that were starting to run through her at the look on her wife’s face.
“Tell you what... You teach me how to make your mom’s pancakes and I’ll teach you how to make my grandmother’s latkes.”
“That sounds like a deal,” Tara replied and kissed the top of Willow’s head, “You coming?”
“You took very good care of that earlier,” Willow responded cheekily as the blonde blushed, “Very good.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Tara said with a mock-scolding tone as she walked out of the kitchen, but Willow noticed there was an extra swing of her hips as she walked, telling her she wouldn’t have it any other way.
How I got so lucky, I’ll never know. She smiled and checked the food a final time before joining her wife and father in the living room, where both were standing at the window over the menorah, Ira gesticulating with his hands and Tara laughing at whatever he was saying.
“As much as she tried, she could never get it, it always came out “Hanicha”. She was only two at the time of course and managed to get it right by the time the next Hanukkah came around.”
“I need to stop leaving you two alone,” Willow said, a small flush colouring her cheeks, “First baby photos, now my inability to pronounce the names of major holidays. I’m gonna have to scam Michelle for some embarrassing little-Tara stories.”
“Michelle?” Ira asked, not having heard the name before, “Who’s Michelle?”
“My aunt,” Tara replied, wondering whether Willow had filled him in on the recent reunion.
“Oh,” Ira said, his brow crinkling, “Did I meet her at the wedding? I don’t recall.”
He was sure he hadn’t, their wedding had been quite a small affair after all and he remembered all of their friends he had met and specifically had noticed the distinct lack of Tara’s family. Willow had told him of course that her mother had passed away when she was younger and had mentioned that she was estranged from her father, without going into detail, but he definitely didn’t recollect any aunt.
“No, she wasn’t there,” Willow replied, nodding at Tara.
Tara understood and launched into the story of how Michelle had turned up in her life again and how they’d been able to reconnect in light of realising their relative status.
“Well, that’s wonderful, dear,” Ira said as Tara finished the story, capturing the blonde in a surprise hug, “It’s been family reunions all around of late.”
“I know,” Willow grinned, both at the statement and the loving action of her father towards her wife, “We ready to light the candle?”
“Could I just go the little boy’s room, first?” Ira asked, somewhat sheepishly.
“Of course,” Tara nodded, smiling herself from the hug, “You know where it is.”
Ira put his glass down on the coffee table and left for the bathroom as Willow began chuckling.
“Heh. Little boy’s room. Sounds weird coming from my fifty-year old father.”
“You should light the candle with your Dad,” Tara said out of the blue, surprising the redhead.
“But...” Willow replied with a small frown, “But we always light it together.”
Tara took one of her wife’s hands and played with her fingers.
“I know...But we can light them together on all the other nights. Before you came in your Dad was telling me how you and him would light them every night when you were little. He said even when you grew up and he was gone a lot, that he was always home for Hanukkah and it was always something you did. So you guys should do it.”
Ira chose that moment to reappear and clapped his hands together, making both girls jump at the sound.
“Sorry,” he said with a small, apologetic smile, “Are we ready to do this?”
“Um...” Willow replied, looking at Tara again who just nodded before turning to her father, “Yea. Okay. Ready.”
She smiled and picked up the matches that lay alongside the menorah, quickly striking it and lighting the Shamash, the candle in the middle that’s used to light the other candles. She picked it up and indicated for her father to hold it with her. Ira smiled as well and held onto the end, but just as Willow was about to light the candle on the far right side, he pulled back on it slightly to stop her.
“I think there’s room here for three hands to hold,” he said, looking over at Tara, “I’d like to light it with both my daughters.”
Willow’s entire face brightened and Tara looked shocked but extended her now-slightly shaking hand and held the middle of the candle, between the other two. Small amounts of wax were beginning to fall onto the floor as the candle had been held in suspension for so long but none of them noticed as they brought the flame down and lit the other one together, before placing the Shamash back in its holder.
“Will we sing Maoz Tzur?” Ira asked as he pulled his hand back.
“I haven’t sang that in years. I’m not sure I remember the words,” Willow said with a small smile, then explained off of Tara’s confused look, “It’s a Hanukkah song.”
“I’ll start off,” Ira replied, clearing his throat, “Ma'oz tsur yeshu'ati...”
The lyrics instantly came back to Willow and she joined in with the singing for the next minute or so. When they finished, Tara clapped in approval.
“I’ll learn it for next year,” she promised, before the sound of the timer rang out from the kitchen, “I’ll check on that.”
She turned to leave but right before going through the door, she turned back and met Ira’s eye.
“Thank you.”
She spun on her heels and left the room without another word and Ira turned to Willow.
“Is she okay?”
“I think she’s incredibly touched by what you did and said,” Willow replied, picking up her glass that she’d put down before lighting the candle, “So am I.”
“Simply the truth,” Ira replied in a stoic manner, though his eyes gave away his emotion.
Willow didn’t have a response for that so instead silently embraced her father, communicating through the hug instead of words.
“Are you sure you’re okay with us not doing the blessings and stuff?” she asked when they parted, knowing her father was a traditionalist at heart and did believe in God, even if she didn’t.
“I’ll do my own prayer at home,” Ira said, his smile genuine, “I take value in sharing the holiday with family, my personal worship can wait a few hours.”
Willow smiled back and nodded towards the door.
“I better go rescue Tara. She has no idea what kugel is supposed to look like...”
Ira nodded.
“Oh of course. Can I help?”
Willow shook her head.
“Thanks, but I got it. Why don’t you go sit in the dining room and I’ll send Tara in. But no more embarrassing baby stories!”
“I can’t promise anything,” Ira grinned as they walked out of the living room, “I love to tell and she loves to hear.”
“Well at the very least, nothing that involves diapers. I don’t want her thinking about that when we’re...” Willow trailed off as she realised what she was about to say and in what was becoming a worrying trend, blushed bright red and motioned with her thumb towards the kitchen, “I’m, ah, gonna get started on those latkes.”
“Right, of course,” Ira replied, shuffling uncomfortably, as he knew exactly what his daughter had been about to say, “I’ll just...”
He motioned towards the dining room and Willow nodded.
“Uh huh. That’s, um... yea.”
She turned into the kitchen without another word and closed the door behind her, before putting her face in her hands and resting her forehead against the island, groaning. Tara turned at the sound, partly relieved because she’d really just responded to the sound of the timer on instinct, forgetting her lack of knowledge on the dishes that were being cooked and partly worried when she saw her wife distressed about something.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, going over and rubbing the redhead’s back comfortingly.
“My Dad totally knows we’re having sex,” Willow said through her hands.
Tara raised an eyebrow, hidden from the redhead and cleared her throat.
“Um...I pretty sure he had a good idea that was going on. We share a bed,” she replied before giving a small laugh, “Sweetheart, we’re married.”
“Tara, it's not funny!” Willow whined, lifting her head up and removing her hands, a pout forming, “And I know we're married and he knows we share a bed, but there’s a difference between absently being aware of the possibility of something and your daughter pretty much confirming it.”
Tara withheld her laugh this time and moved her hand up to squeeze the smaller girl’s shoulder.
“Well what did you say?”
Willow sighed exaggeratedly.
“I told him not to tell you anymore embarrassing baby stories and he said he couldn’t promise anything and I said well at least don’t tell her any diaper stories because I didn’t want you thinking about that when we were...and then I trailed off and ran in here.”
“Oh...” Tara replied, holding back a grin, “Honey, I may think about your ass when we’re together, but it’s definitely not in diapers.”
Willow glared at the blonde and half-playfully hit her shoulder before giving a small shrug.
“It’s just, I never dated in high school, ‘cause, you know, geek extraordinaire with no friends, and then I left for college and the whole disowning thing happened and now he’s back in my life and well, been subjected to quite a bit of PDA like at the wedding when he caught us outside the reception and-”
“It’s weird,” Tara concluded with a nod of her head, “For both of you. But just think, it could’ve been worse. He could’ve arrived five minutes earlier. Or had his own key.”
Willow’s eyes widened in terror at the idea and she shook her head to get rid of the thought, a shiver going down her spine.
“Don’t even wanna think about that. Will you go in and keep Dad company while I get the food ready? And maybe stick to a neutral subject. In fact, better off not mentioning me at all.”
“As you wish, my love,” Tara replied and grabbed her wine glass as well as another bottle, “But it’s gonna be hard. You’re always on my mind.”
“Wow,” Willow responded with a playful shake of her head, “That was super cheesy.”
“I know,” Tara grinned, as she walked out of the kitchen, looking back for just a second, “You love it.”
The blonde could feel the smile radiating from her wife as she made her way into the dining room and felt her own lips curve into a similar state.
“Would you like some more?” she asked as she sat down at the table with Ira, holding the bottle.
“Oh no thank you,” Ira shook his head and placed his palm over his still half-full glass, “I’m driving.”
Tara saw the man seemed to be averting his gaze and was fumbling with his hand on his knee, obviously quite uncomfortable. She realised the conversation he’d had with Willow had clearly affected him as much as it had her wife and opted to take the advice to talk about a neutral subject.
“So, we’re going car shopping tomorrow. Willow’s got in her head she needs a speed machine ever since she took a spin in our friend Angel’s Mercedes. Do you know anything about cars? I know Willow does but I’m afraid she might get a bit sidetracked if she sees a sports car.”
Ira laughed, apparently put at ease by the nature and light tone of the conversation and stopped his hand from fidgeting.
“I’m guessing you’re looking for something more sturdy?”
“Yes,” Tara nodded definitively, “And decent-sized. But we’ll be working in a budget as well, kind of a tight one. You know, with the wedding being so recent and all.”
“Of course,” Ira replied, before leaning forwards in his seat, “You know, Tara, if you’re having money issues, I’m more than happy to help out. I mean, really, it’s tradition for the father of the bride to pay for the wedding and I didn’t even contribute...”
“Oh, Ira,” Tara responded, waving her hands in front of her, “That’s not... I mean, thank you very much for the offer, but we’re okay. We did struggle for a long time, but with Willow’s salary, even if we’re making wedding and car payments, we’re still better off than we ever have been before. Much better off.”
Ira nodded and leant back in his chair.
“I’m sorry if I offen-”
“You didn’t,” Tara cut him off with a warm smile, “I’m touched you’d offer.”
“Oh. Well, not a problem. My offer stands should you ever need it. And, um,” Ira stalled for a moment, before covering the blonde’s hand with his and giving it a squeeze, “Just so you know, I meant what I said earlier. You’re a wonderful, beautiful girl and I’m proud to call you my daughter.”
Tara felt herself begin to choke up just as Willow walked into the room, a plate in either hand.
“Bubbe’s latkes!” she announced, not noticing the moment that was passing between the other two.
Ira just gave Tara’s hand another squeeze before moving his hand away.
“These look wonderful, sweetheart,” Ira said as one of the latkes was placed in front of him, “My mother couldn’t have made them better herself.”
Willow beamed at the compliment and dished out the rest of them.
“What did I miss?” she asked as she took her seat.
“We were just discussing your impending car purchase,” Ira said, quickly winking at Tara, who smiled back, “Now if you ask me...”
They spent the next hour or so discussing possible car choices, during which time Willow dished out the brisket and kugel, which went down a treat as conversation turned to other topics, like how Ira was finding the move to Buffalo (it felt much more like home than California ever did, just as soon as he got used to the weather) and what the plans were for Christmas day, which fell the following Friday.
The evening passed by with everyone eating and talking before they moved into the living room to be more comfortable and keep a closer eye on the still-burning candles until Ira got set to leave, quickly visiting the bathroom again before his drive home.
“He offered to help us out financially if we needed it,” Tara said to her wife as they cleared the dishes into the kitchen, “Just thought you should know.”
“Oh,” Willow replied, not completely shocked, “What did you say?”
“That we were doing just fine but thank you so much for the offer.”
Willow smiled.
“Exactly what I would have said.”
Willow put the plates in her hand into the dishwasher and turned to the blonde, leaning over for a quick kiss.
“What was that for?” Tara asked, a shy smile on her face.
Willow shrugged.
“Just ‘cause I love you.”
Ira walked into the kitchen at that moment, wiping his hands lightly on the fabric of his pants.
“Well, I better go. I have to work tomorrow.”
“Still working weekends, Dad?” Willow asked, her tone more sad than bitter.
Ira looked at his daughter seriously.
“Only while I familiarize myself with our east-coast clients. I made it very clear to the director when I asked for the transfer that I wouldn’t be working the same hours I have in the past. I wasn’t lying, Willow, when I said I was determined to be a better father this time.”
Willow’s face brightened and she walked over to give her Dad a hug.
“I know you did, Daddy.”
Ira beamed and held an arm out, indicating that he wanted Tara to join the hug. Tara smiled and walked over to embrace her father-in-law as well as Ira got a proud look on his face.
“My girls.”
)
