• Title - Wave
• Author name – LonelyTara
• Email Address -
9kodama@gmail.com
• Rating - PG to PG-13
• Disclaimer - This is a romantic and light-angst AU piece with plenty of adventure. Don't sue me, I'm not stealing anything, just borrowing!
• Feedback-Please, please!
• Summary- Wave is a season 2 AU. On Halloween, Willow meets a strange and beautiful blond girl, and becomes determined to find her. When they connect, Willow's life will be changed forever...
• Notes-Thanks to everyone who will read. Some of the dialogue in this chapter may come from BtVS episodes.
Chapter Fifteen: Giving Thanks
“Welcome back to Casa del Summers!” Buffy crowed. Willow found herself pulled forward, breath knocked out of her as the slayer wrapped her in a tight hug.
“Hey Buffy,” Willow gasped.
“Hi Willster. Happy Thanksgiving!” Buffy released Willow and grabbed Tara, the taller blonde gave a startled squeak as Buffy squeezed her. “Happy Thanksgiving, Tara!”
“Thanks Buffy,” Tara said breathlessly.
“Buff,” Willow said, trying not to chuckle, “Slayer strength.”
“Ooh!” Buffy said, going wide-eyed and blushing. “Sorry about that. I’m just so glad you’re all here.”
“I think we can all see your excitement,” Giles said wryly. “Thank you for inviting us to dinner.”
“You’re welcome, but you should thank my mom too, she said yes when I asked her.” The little blonde slayer nodded, waving them off the porch and into the house.
“Why don’t I do that now,” Giles said hurriedly, leaving the three girls in the doorway as he headed toward the kitchen. “And I’ll see if I can’t help with the supper preparations.”
“Watcher man seems unusually tense today,” Buffy said.
“He was a little quite this m-morning,” Tara agreed.
Willow bounced, grinning broadly. “Maybe he was nervous about spending the day with your mom, Buffy.”
Buffy’s mouth dropped open and she turned to Willow, her cheeks flushed bright crimson. She stared at Willow for so long that the slender redhead grew a little nervous that she’d really angered her friend. Willow stopped bouncing and her smile vanished.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“Do you really think it’s true?” Buffy asked in a hush, sounding horror-struck. “Does Giles…like my Mom?”
“Uh,” Willow said, swallowing. She looked over at Tara.
“W-Well,” the blonde stammered. “She is very p-pretty.”
Buffy made a choking noise and Willow fought a grin. “I think the right answer was no,” Willow told Tara.
“In that case,” Tara said. “I’m sure he just went in the kitchen to hang out with the only other adult in the house. And hasn’t he been seeing Ms. Calendar? Besides,” she said after a moment. “W-Why would he want to hang out with a bunch of kids?”
Buffy closed her mouth and the blush faded from her cheeks. “Right,” she said, nodding fervently. “Right. No use hanging with us pesky kids. Let’s eat,” she said, walking over to the couch.
“Pesky?” Willow giggled, fighting the urge to snort with mirth. “Shocked Buffy magically transports back to 1955.” Tara chuckled and tucked her arm around Willow’s, hugging her close.
“You two keep yucking it up over there,” Buffy grumped, “And no delicious snacks for you.” She stepped to the side, revealing a coffee table loaded with food.
“Wow,” Willow breathed.
The table’s surface was barely visible; the barest hints of the paper, Thanksgiving-themed tablecloth peeked through beneath the pile of plates and bowls. There were chips, crackers and sliced cheese, mixed nuts—salted and honey roasted—two different boxes of candy, and peanut butter, sugar, oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies.
“Yeah,” Tara said. “Wow.”
“It’s that slayer metabolism,” Buffy said sheepishly. “I’m always hungry. Come on,” she said, smiling broadly. “Eat some of this, save me from myself.”
Willow led Tara to the couch and they sat next to each other, cuddled close. The warm press of the girl’s thigh against her thigh left Willow thinking of the night before, of the glory of Tara’s skin. She felt a blush creep up her neck.
“So,” Buffy said, leaning over the table to fill a plate with goodies. “How did your date go last night?” She straightened and looked over at Willow, a slow grin spreading across her face. “That good, huh?”
“Buffy!” Willow said, clapping her hands over her face. She heard the slayer’s muffled laughter, and then felt Tara’s hand swipe gently up and down her back, again and again.
“It was a wonderful date,” Tara told Buffy. “Willow was so sweet.”
“The wonder was all Tara,” Willow said, still hiding behind her hands. “It was the most romantic, magnificent date ever.”
“I’m sure if I could’ve heard you around your hands I’d being saying ‘aw’ right now,” Buffy laughed.
Willow took her hands away from her face. “Hah, hah.”
“There she is,” Buffy said, holding out a loaded plate. “Eat up, Will.”
“If you think a pile of delicious food will make me forgive your teasing…you’re absolutely right,” Willow said. She popped a chocolate chip cookie into her mouth and groaned. “This is amazing,” she said thickly. “Want a bite?” She asked Tara.
“Yes, please.” Tara replied. She leaned forward with her eyes closed and her mouth open.
“Then here you go,” Willow said.
She reached out and popped a hunk of cookie into Tara’s waiting mouth. As she pulled away, Tara’s mouth closed, brushed against the tip of Willow’s finger. The satiny heat of it left Willow suppressing a shiver that tingled on top of her head and curled her toes.
“Yummy,” Tara replied.
“Do you guys want to watch a movie?” Buffy asked, handing them each a napkin as she loaded her plate again.
“Oh,” Tara said, nibbling at a sugar cookie. “Aren’t we going to watch the parade on TV?”
Buffy shuddered. “Nope, no parade. Do you guys want something to drink? We’ve got juices, sodas, hot chocolate, and peppermint tea.” As soon as the slayer had her order for a tea and a hot chocolate, she turned and went into the kitchen without another word.
“Did I say suh-something wrong?” Tara asked softly.
“No, no,” Willow replied, and then she hesitated.
She didn’t want to leave Tara out, but the alternative…The blonde’s face began to fall and Willow gave a little shrug. It wasn’t worth Tara being upset over. Buffy would have to understand.
“No, Tara,” Willow said softly. “You didn’t say anything wrong.” She took a deep breath. “It’s just that Buffy has a secret fear of giant cartoon-character balloons.”
Tara’s eyes widened. “Oh,” she said. Willow could see she was trying not to laugh. Willow gave a giggle and clapped her hands over her mouth, but it was too late, soon both girls were chuckling away.
“What’s so funny? Buffy asked, walking back into the room with drinks.
“Nothing,” Willow gaps between bursts of laughter.
The slayer looked between the laughing girls and her eyes narrowed. Suddenly she pointed at Willow.
“Oh my god, you told her about my secret balloon fear!” She cringed and gave a wild look around. “My secret balloon fear,” Buffy repeated in a loud whisper. “Which is supposed to be a secret!”
“Sorry,” Willow replied.
“I w-won’t tell anyone,” Tara said sincerely. “Willow only told me because I was w-worried I’d upset you.”
The slayer’s face softened and she gave a little shrug. “Just don’t tell Xander,” Buffy replied, just as the boy was walking in the door.
“Don’t tell Xander what?”
None of them said a word. The boy slapped his hands on his hips. “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”
“Nope,” Buffy said.
Willow just gave an apologetic little shrug, and Tara busied herself with another little cookie. Xander crossed his arms tightly over his chest in the classic Harris pout and sighed.
“I bet Giles would’ve told me. Male solidarity, you know?” Xander slumped after a moment, looking even glummer. “Oh who am I kidding, he wouldn’t have told me.”
“Poor Xander,” Buffy teased. “Delicious snacks will cure your woes.” She gestured to the table and Xander’s eyes went wide as saucers. “Eat up.”
Xander seemed to instantaneously materialize in front of the table. He was filling his face with one hand and a plate with the other. Willow had to choke back a laugh when she looked over at Tara; the blonde was watching Xander’s eating feats with an expression that mingled admiration and horror.
“Don’t think this means I’m gonna forgeh abouf the secref you’re keeping,” Xander said, talking around a mouthful of crackers and cheese. He straightened and carried his piled plate over to the armchair, swallowing. “No fair picking on the boy.”
Willow shook her head and leaned into Tara playfully, offering her a bite of the strawberry cream candy she’d pulled from the chocolates. The blonde nodded and took a little nibble.
“That is so good,” she sighed. “Thanks for sharing.”
“Have another bite,” Willow said, holding the candy out again after taking another bite. She felt a flush stirring in her chest as Tara stared down at the little crescent of chocolate-coated strawberry cream cradled between her fingers. When the blonde licked her lips and leaned forward, Willow shivered. Tara’s warm, soft mouth closed over her fingertips, teeth barely touching her skin, and then her tongue brushed down and licked the chocolate free. “Holy cow,” she squeaked.
Tara quickly sat up, grinning broadly.
“What did we miss?” Buffy asked, looking up from her plate.
“Willow just really likes the chocolates,” Tara replied, still watching Willow with a naughty little smile.
“Oh yeah,” Willow said, nodding fervently. “Delicious. Absolutely delicious.”
“That's just what I was thinking,” Tara agreed.
A strange look crossed Buffy’s face and Willow as sure they were caught, but then Xander cleared his throat, setting his empty plate on the arm of his chair.
“So,” he said cheerfully, “What were we talking about? What?” He cried petulantly as the girls burst into giggles.
“Aw, pouty Xander,” Buffy teased. “Want a cookie?”
“No,” the boy grumbled and then he sighed. “Yes,” he said, and crammed a cookie in his mouth. “That shouldn’f make me feel beffer,” Xander mumbled around the cookie. “But if duff.”
Tara clapped a hand over her mouth and Willow nudged her playfully, puffing out her cheeks in imitation of Xander chewing on his cookie. Tara swatted at Willow with her free hand and Willow snagged it, pressing it to her mouth for a kiss. She didn’t let go of her hand after the kiss; instead she held it lightly in her lap, using her index finger to stroke Tara’s fingers.
“Well you all sound like you’re having a great time,” Mrs. Summers said, walking into the living room.
Willow dropped Tara’s hand, giving her girlfriend an apologetic glance. She grabbed a cookie and took a big bite, nodding her head.
“Yeah Mom,” Buffy said, “We’re all fun out here.”
“Aren’t you guys going to watch a movie?” Mrs. Summers asked. “Don’t ask about watching the parade,” she told Xander, Willow, and Tara confidentially. “She doesn’t like the balloons.”
“Mom!” Buffy cried, going beet-red. “That’s supposed to be a secret!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Joyce chuckled, holding up her hands. “I’ll go back to the kitchen now. I just wanted to let you all know to keep helping yourself to the snacks. We had a slight stuffing error.”
“No stuffing?” Buffy asked, the trauma of her revealed secret quickly forgotten.
“There will be stuffing, never fear,” Mrs. Summers replied. “It’s just going to take a little while longer than I expected.”
“D-Do you need any help?” Tara asked.
“That’s sweet of you, dear,” Mrs. Summers said. “But I think as long as I don’t let Rupert…um…help me with that task, I’ll be just fine.”
“Giles you messed up the stuffing?” Buffy called.
“Shush,” Mrs. Summers laughed, waving her hands. “He’s been very helpful.” She turned back toward the kitchen. “You all just relax and have fun.”
“I bet he’s been helpful,” Buffy grumbled as her mother walked out of sight.
“Man, Buff,” Xander said, picking through one of the box of chocolates. “You must really like stuffing, huh?”
Willow turned away from Buffy and Xander to face Tara, reaching out a tentative hand and laying it back on top of Tara’s where they sat in her lap.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“Sorry for what?” Tara asked.
“I’m a chicken,” Willow whispered. “I shouldn’t have stopped holding your hand just because Buffy’s mom came in.” She stared down at her pale hand on top of the peaches-and-cream of Tara’s skin. Willow didn’t look her in her girlfriend’s gorgeous blue eyes because she didn’t want to see hurt or disappointment there.
“Will,” Tara said softly.
Willow just shook her head, and then she felt the gentle press of lips against her cheek.
“Look at me, Will,” Tara said. Willow looked up to find Tara smiling, love nova-bright in her eyes. “I’m not mad. It’s okay.” She took one of Willow’s hands in both of hers, cradled and warm.
“Thanks, Tare.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Buffy said, “But I just have to say my mom totally won’t care if you guys hold hands.”
“Yeah,” Xander said, renewing his attack on the cheese and crackers. “Mrs. Summers is totally cool.”
Willow smiled when Tara squeezed her hand. “She is cool, completely cool, but still,” she began.
“My mom’s best friend back in LA was this painter,” Buffy said eagerly, leaning forward on the edge of the couch. “And he and his husband were great. She even let me babysit their daughter. They adopted her from the Ukraine, she was the cutest thing ever.”
“It might be…different with me, Buffy,” Willow said quietly. “I’m her daughter’s best friend.”
She wasn’t sure how to make Buffy understand her fear. She didn’t know what she would do if Mrs. Summers didn’t want Buffy to be around her anymore. Before Buffy’s arrival in Sunnydale she’d had Xander and Jesse, but still, she’d been lonely.
There’s Tara, of course, Willow thought. She smiled over at her love, giving the blonde’s hand a gentle squeeze.
There will always be Tara, but I don’t want to lose Buffy…
“It won’t bother her, Will,” Buffy said adamantly.
“What if she feels like she has to tell my parents?” Willow replied. She knew she had to tell Sheila and Ira at some point, but the thought of that point being close made her stomach clench. She really had no idea how they would react to the news that their only child was gay.
“My mom would never do that, Willow,” Buffy said solemnly. “She knows the rules. You never out somebody.”
“She knows the rules?” Xander asked in a whisper. “Gay rules?” He turned to Tara and Willow with a puzzled look. “There are gay rules?”
“Yes, Xander,” Tara nodded, speaking with utter sincerity. “There’s a booklet that comes in the mail once you figure out you’re gay. It usually takes 5 to 7 business days.”
“Wow,” Xander breathed, “You guys are really organized.”
Buffy, Willow and Tara exchanged glances and then burst into giggles again. Xander looked completely bemused, but then a blush crept into his cheeks.
“Very funny,” he said sourly. “Laugh at the dumb boy. I thought you were the nice one,” Xander told Tara accusingly. “Buffy and Will must be rubbing off on you.”
“Hey!” Buffy and Willow cried simultaneously. “I’m nice!”
The two of them looked at each other and cried, “Jinx,” and then burst into loud laughter. Xander began to chuckle too, shaking his head.
“I know, I know, you’re all nice, even if you pick on me.”
“Ooh!” Buffy cried. “Not a bad-guy ooh,” she said hurriedly, winking at Willow. “An idea ooh. Will,” she said, turning to face the slender redhead. “You should use my mom as a crash test dummy.”
“Huh?” Willow asked. Usually she could follow Buffy’s train of thought, but it seemed to have derailed.
“My mom,” Buffy repeated. “You can use her for a crash test dummy, for coming out. A coming out crash test dummy,” she said proudly.
“Well,” Willow replied, “If you keep saying ‘coming out’ at the top of your lungs I won’t have to test it, she’ll just know.” She gave Buffy a grin so the slayer would know she was only teasing.
“Very funny,” Buffy replied. “I can see what you mean about her, Xander,” she told the dark-haired boy. “There is a lot of teasing that goes on.”
“Hey!” Willow said indignantly.
Tara leaned close and breathed in her ear, “I like it when you tease.”
Willow felt a slow, wide grin spread across her face.
Love you, she thought.
Love you always, Willow. She blushed at Tara’s silent reply.
“Maybe you’re right, Buffy.” Willow said, standing as she filled with a love-fueled courage. “I’m going to talk to her right now.”
“N-Now?” Tara asked. “M-Maybe you should wait till after dinner?”
“Nope, I’ll probably chicken out again by then,” Willow said, trying to sound confident even though her hands were trembling. “Wish me luck,” she said, giving Tara’s hand one last squeeze before she walked off into the kitchen.
Mrs. Summers and Giles were standing at the counter arranging baking sheets, a quartet of boxed pies waiting to be opened and placed to go into the oven. Willow stood in the doorway for a moment, tensed. It would be so easy to go back to the living room.
“Hey Giles,” Willow said softly, praying her voice wouldn’t squeak with sheer terror. “I need to talk to Mrs. Summers for a minute. Why don’t I take over on pie patrol and you can go have some goodies?”
The watcher looked both curious and surprised, but just nodded. “Of course, I’ll go see if there’s anything left that Xander any Buffy haven’t claimed in the name of teen growth spurts.”
“Thanks,” Willow murmured as Giles walked by.
“How about I open and you can place?” Mrs. Summers said, holding up a box.
“Sure,” Willow nodded and stood next to Buffy’s mom, staring down the line of empty pans arrayed before her. She could feel her breathing getting tight and her palms beginning to sweat.
Don’t drop the pie when she hands it to you, Willow thought desperately.
Moms don’t like gay girls who drop the pie and ruin Thanksgiving.
“Willow?” Mrs. Summers asked.
“Yes,” she replied in a high, shaky voice, still staring downward.
“Pie?” Mrs. Summers said.
“Oh!” Willow looked up at Mrs. Summers, who was holding an unwrapped pumpkin pie toward her, looking rather concerned. Willow took the pie and placed it with reverent care on the first cookie sheet.
“Is there something in particular that you wanted to talk to me about, Willow?” Mrs. Summers asked kindly.
How do I tell you what I need to talk about, because you might hate me and tell me I can’t be Buffy’s friend anymore or tell my parents and they might kick me out of the house. But Buffy said it would be okay, that I can talk to you and—Willow’s internal rambling was building to a boiling point. She could feel Mrs. Summers’ gaze boring into her.
“Buffy said you’re a dummy!” Willow cried.
Oh god.
Joyce’s face crumpled with confusion. “I’m sorry?”
Willow felt herself burn crimson. “No, she thinks you’re brilliant,” she told Buffy’s mom swiftly, waving her hands as if to erase her earlier words. “And you are, but she said I can use you as a parental crash test dummy, and I don't think that sounds any better, but maybe it will help to know that I mean metaphorically and not to test safety ratings on a car. Does it help?”
Mrs. Summers watched her for a moment and then a smile spread across her face. Willow slumped with relief.
“Sure,” Mrs. Summers chuckled gently. “What exactly are you testing, Willow?”
“Well, when you’ve known somebody for a long time,” Willow began, gaining speed with each word, “Like you’ve known me, it’s only natural to develop preconceptions about a person—things that you’ll expect them to do or…or to like…and people can have a hard time when they find out those assumptions are wrong…maybe feel like they don't know the person, that that the person was being deceptive even though they weren’t and it’s not…it’s really about getting to know a person better,” she said, taking a gasping breath and continuing on. “About really knowing and accepting them.” Willow paused, looking up at Buffy’s mom hopefully.
Please, please still like me, she thought.
“So,” Mrs. Summers said hesitantly. “I’m the ‘getting to know you better’ crash test dummy?”
Willow bit her lip.
All that, and I never actually said the word gay. “Babbly when I’m nervous,” she admitted softly. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay dear,” Joyce said. She reached out and patted Willow on the hand. “Just try again.”
Big deep breath, Rosenberg. “You’re my coming out crash test dummy,” she said is a soft but steady voice, staring into Mrs. Summers’ eyes. “I’m gay a…a lesbian, and Tara is my girlfriend. I hope you won’t be freaked and that you’ll still let me hang out with Buffy, because she’s my best friend in all the world and I love her, but not that way,” Willow said, wide-eyed, holding up her hands. “I only love Tara that way.”
Mrs. Summers watched Willow carefully for a moment, a small smile on her face. Then Buffy’s mom moved her hand up to the slim redhead’s shoulder.
“Willow,” she said gently, “Breathe. Now I know why Buffy’s afraid you’ll pass out sometimes.” Her free hand moved to Willow’s other shoulder. “I am truly flattered that you were brave enough to come out to me. I know that wasn’t easy. You’re a wonderful girl, and a great influence on my daughter. I hope you know that who you love doesn’t change how I feel about you at all. You’re always welcome here.”
The breath was knocked out of Joyce in an
oomph as Willow quickly leaned in and threw her arms around the older woman.
“You’re a wonderful girl, Willow,” Joyce repeated, patting her back comfortingly. “And Tara seems very sweet too.”
“Thanks Mrs. Summers,” Willow murmured thickly into the woman’s shoulder, fighting tears. “You’re the best dummy ever.”
When Mrs. Summers began to chuckle, Willow realized what she’d said. She stepped out of Joyce’s arms, but before she could apologize Buffy’s mom raised a hand, forestalling her.
“I knew what you meant, Willow. And thank you. Now, come on,” she continued, sliding a hand around Willow’s shoulder. “Let’s get you back out there before Buffy and Xander start a war with Rupert over the food. Besides,” Mrs. Summers said with a smile, “You don’t want your lovely girlfriend to get lonely.”
Willow let Buffy’s mom steer her back out to the living room. Buffy and Xander were teasing Giles about something that had the watcher looking distinctly ruffled, while Tara sat on the end of the sofa, looking anxious. As soon as she saw Willow, a smile lit up the blonde’s face, so open and genuine, that Willow’s heart gave a little leap.
Is that because of me? She thought, filled with wonder.
Just seeing me makes her happy? Tara gave her a little wave and Willow just couldn’t hold back anymore, she ran over to the couch and plopped down next to her girlfriend, taking Tara’s hand in her own and pressing it to her mouth.
“Love you,” Willow murmured.
“Then Buffy’s mom isn’t m-mad?” Tara asked softly. Willow saw Tara’s eyes dart over to Mrs. Summers and back again.
“Nope,” Willow said happily. “Not a bit. We’re cool, right Mrs. Summers?” Willow asked, smiling up at Buffy’s mom.
The older woman smiled and nodded. “Ready to go back to the trenches, Rupert?” She asked Giles.
Before he could rise, Tara cleared her throat. “W-would it be okay if I helped instead?” She asked softly. “I always enjoyed helping my m-mom in the kitchen, especially around the h-holidays.”
“While I’m happy to continue to help,” Giles replied, “I must say Tara is a far better cook than I am, and so our stomachs will likely thank us later if she takes my place.”
“It’s very nice of you to offer, Tara,” Mrs. Summers said kindly. “Of course you’re welcome to help if you’d like to.” Willow flashed Mrs. Summers a smile she could only hope conveyed her gratitude for the woman’s kindness.
“Thanks,” Tara said, standing. She gave Willow’s hand a little squeeze and then walked off past Giles and Mrs. Summers, towards the kitchen.
Mrs. Summers began to follow after Tara, but then she turned back to the living room. Hooking her thumb over her shoulder, Joyce mouthed, ‘She’s wonderful.’ Willow nodded and opened her mouth to agree, only to find herself interrupted.
“I know,” Giles said.
Willow grinned and Giles’s eyes widened. “My apologies if I stole your thunder there,” he whispered.
“No need for apologies,” Willow said cheerfully. “You’re right, she is wonderful.” Willow expected Buffy and Xander to tease her with little ‘aw’ sounds and kissy faces, but Xander was busy eating and Buffy just hopped off the couch and made a beeline for her mother.
“Mom,” Buffy said softly, reaching out and grabbing her mother’s arm.
Joyce turned, and before she could say a word, Buffy threw her arms around her and pulled her close. The slayer stood there for a moment, just holding her mother, as Joyce’s face transformed from wide-eyed surprise to a gentle smile. She reached up and held Buffy tight.
“I’m really thankful to be your daughter,” Buffy murmured.
“Well, thank you, Buffy,” Mrs. Summers replied.
Willow watched her best friend holding and being held by her mother, and she couldn’t help the little twinge of jealousy she felt. She couldn’t remember the last time one of her parents had even tried to hug her.
Why? She thought plaintively.
Is something wrong? Am I wrong?
In an instant a thick layer of guilt spread atop her sorrow. How could she be worried about her distance from her parents when her love, her sweet girl Tara didn’t have anyone at all? Her mother, the only one who had loved and protected her, was gone forever.
But she has me, Willow thought. She sent a silent promise to the universe; to the mother Tara had lost.
She’ll always have me.
Joyce kissed Buffy on the head and patted her back, then shooed her toward the living room. The slayer bounced back toward them, grinning, while her mom went back into the kitchen.
“Movie time?” She asked cheerfully.
Willow nodded as Xander voiced his agreement, but Giles looked confused. As Buffy flipped through channels on the television, he leaned forward.
“Forgive me for being, well,” he chuckled. “British, but isn’t the tradition of the day to watch some parade on television? I understand that the bands and floats are quiet amusing. And aren’t there giant balloons?” Giles said eagerly. “I think that must be a treat.”
“No parade,” Buffy, Willow, and Xander said simultaneously, and then burst into laughter at the confusion on the watcher’s face. Willow felt her sadness fade away. She had friends, great friends, and she had Tara. Yes. Willow and Tara had each other, and it was more than Willow could’ve dreamed.
Buffy turned on some comedy they’d all seen a hundred times, but that nonetheless had the slayer and Xander rolling with laughter. Giles settled back into his chair and dozed off. Willow tried her best to pay attention, and the movie even made her crack a smile once or twice, but she couldn’t help fidgeting. Every so often she caught a quiet murmur of voices from the kitchen, and Mrs. Summers even laughed once, echoed by a softer giggle from Tara. But they’d been quiet now, for a few minutes. Willow wondered what was going on.
“You should just go in and check on her,” Buffy said, never taking her eyes off the TV.
“What?” Willow sputtered, blushing.
“Yeah Will,” Xander agreed, “Go ahead, your nerves are making me nervous.”
“But—” Willow began.
“Willow,” Giles said dryly, “My eyes aren’t even open and I can tell you’re dying to know what they’re up to. Go on.”
“I’ll be back,” Willow squeaked.
She could feel the heat of a blush in her cheeks, but she didn’t care. Let them tease as much as they wanted, this was her first holiday with her soul mate and she didn’t want to miss a minute of it. Willow walked down the hall and into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway. Tara was standing at the counter, her long golden hair pulled back in a bun she’d formed by wrapping her hair around itself and knotting it loosely. There were little wisps of hair floating free at her temples. She was absolutely breathtaking.
Tara’s hands danced from a bowl to a bag of flour to the countertop, where she kneaded and twisted a large pile of dough. Mrs. Summers was leaning against the stove, arms lightly crossed, watching Tara with a little smile on her face. When she noticed Willow standing in the doorway, Joyce raised a finger to her lips and nodded toward Tara. The blonde continued to work, flipping and pulling at the dough in her hands. Willow realized that as she was working, Tara was singing under her breath, high and sweet. She dropped the dough to the counter and picked up the pin, and began to gently and lightly roll it against the counter.
As she rolled, her eyes drifted closed, and she finally began to sing loud enough that Willow could make out words:
If I had a day that I could give you
I'd give to you a day just like today
If I had a song that I could sing for you
I'd sing a song to make you feel this way
Willow felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth, felt it tug the same way in her heart. Tara sounded so relaxed, so at peace. She wondered what her love saw behind her closed eyes.
Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high
Mrs. Summers caught Willow’s eyes and mouthed ‘wow’. Willow nodded, and then felt her gaze pulled back to Tara like a magnet was drawing her eyes. Tara took a pinch of flour and lightly dusted the surface of the rolling pin.
If I had a tale that I could tell you
I'd tell a tale sure to make you smile
If I had a wish that I could wish for you
Tara turned away from the counter, reaching out for something, Willow wasn’t sure what, still singing.
I'd make a wish for sunshine all the—
“Oh,” Tara said.
She stopped, blushing as she saw both Willow and Buffy’s mom watching her. Ducking her head, she pushed her hair back with her forearm. When she looked up again, Willow smiled at the site of a streak of flour running from the tip of her nose to her forehead.
“Hi, Willow,” Tara murmured, smiling.
“Hi.” She took a step forward and brushed the flour off of Tara’s nose. Whatcha doing?” Willow asked, smiling.
“She is saving Thanksgiving,” Mrs. Summers said, reaching out to give Tara’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I forgot to buy biscuits when I went to the grocery store, and Tara offered to make some.”
“My grandma taught me,” Tara said softly. “The dough is ready, I can either pinch them or make cut biscuits if you have a round cookie cutter?”
“Right here,” Joyce replied. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a small, circular cutter. “Do you need help?”
“Um,” Tara said, biting her lip. “M-Maybe Willow could cut while I roll?” She looked over at Willow with a hopeful little smile.
“Uh,” Willow began. She didn’t want to mess up all of Tara’s hard work.
“Remember how well the pizza turned out?” Tara asked, smiling with that sweet, crooked grin.
“That’s true,” Willow said. She squared her shoulders.
What’s cutting biscuits after coming out? Well, coming a little more out, anyway. “I can do it.”
“All right then,” Mrs. Summers handed her the cutter.
Tara patiently guided Willow through the process of cutting biscuits, showing her just the right amount of force to free a biscuit. Willow handed the cut biscuits off to Mrs. Summers, who laid them out on a cookie sheet. Every so often she would pause in her cutting efforts to allow Tara to re-roll the dough. Finally there was just enough left for one, and so Tara lifted it, patting it into shape, till it was almost indistinguishable from the ones that Willow had cut.
“Finished,” Tara said happily, handing the final biscuit off to Buffy’s mom.
“Thank you so much, girls,” Mrs. Summers replied, opening the oven door to slide the cookie sheet in. The delicious smell of roasting turkey wafted through the air as she closed the door again.
“That smells really delicious, Mrs. Summers,” Willow said wistfully. She clapped her hands over her stomach as it gave a low grumble.
“Poor hungry Willow,” Tara teased.
“The biscuits will only take about ten minutes,” Mrs. Summers chuckled. “And then we’ll be ready to eat. Why don’t you go and give Buffy and Xander the good news, and I’ll get things finished up in here.”
“I could help set the t-table,” Tara said softly.
“Me too,” Willow said, linking her fingers through Tara’s gently.
“That would be very nice, girls,” Mrs. Summers agreed.
Twenty minutes later, everyone had gathered at the Summers dining room table. Buffy informed Giles and Joyce that they should sit on the ends, with Willow and Tara on one side and Buffy and Xander on the other. Willow wondered if it was a show of respect, or a plot to keep the watcher away from her mother. The table was piled high with all types of delicious food: there was a steaming, golden-brown turkey, mashed potatoes, broccoli, cranberry sauce—homemade, Mrs. Summers assured them, not from a can—macaroni and cheese, stuffing, squash, sweet potatoes, and, of course, Tara’s biscuits, which were huge, fluffy, and perfectly browned.
“I just want to thank you all so much for coming to share dinner with us,” Mrs. Summers said, beaming around the table at everyone.
“Well, I think I speak for us all when I say thank you for inviting us,” Giles replied, giving Mrs. Summers’ hand a little squeeze on his way to his seat at the other end of the table.
“Before we dig in,” Buffy’s mom continued, adjusting the silverware next to her plate, “I know most families celebrate Thanksgiving by starting off telling what they’re thankful for.”
That’s easy, Willow thought,
Tara, Tara and, oh yeah, Tara.
“But I’ve found over the years,” she continued, gently nudging Xander’s hand away from the biscuits, “That people are too distracted by hunger when dinner finally comes around, and so we wait till dessert.”
Buffy was nodding her head, and Xander had the good decency to act a bit embarrassed, a flush brightening his cheeks.
“That means everybody can chow down now,” Mrs. Summers said, waving toward the table. “There’ll be plenty of time for thanks later.”
“Oh thank you,” Xander groaned. His eyes widened and Willow had to bite back a giggle as he blushed. “I mean, I know you said thanks can wait for later, but this is a pre-thanks thanks for waiting for the thanks because I’m really, really hungry, so thanks.”
“Someone please give the boy something to eat,” Giles said dryly. “He’s clearly delirious with hunger.”
And so it was with much laughter and gratitude that the six of them began to fill their plates, passing them back and forth as needed to get a serving of one delicacy or another that was out of reach. There was a quick and unanimous agreement that everything was delicious. Willow had a flash of gratitude when Buffy’s mom was quick to point out that the delicate, flaky biscuits Tara had made from scratch saved the meal. Everyone had multiple helpings of the delicious feast; until finally Willow, Tara, Giles, and Joyce were sitting back and watching Buffy and Xander continue to pack the food away.
“Mom,” Buffy said thickly, dropping another large spoonful of mashed potatoes on her plate. “Is there any more gravy?”
“Sorry honey,” Mrs. Summers replied. “You and Xander finished off the last of it about thirty minutes ago.”
“S’okay,” Buffy said around a mouthful of turkey and cranberry sauce. “Butter pleafe?” She asked Tara.
“Sure,” Tara laughed, handing her the little ceramic trough that held the stick of butter.
“Fanks.” Buffy cut a huge chunk of butter free and dropped it into a dip in the center of her mashed potatoes.
“I’ll take that,” Xander said airily, reaching out for the butter.
“Hold your horses,” Buffy said, swallowing and smacking at his hand. “I might not be done.”
“Then I’ll give it back,” Xander replied.
“You should share, Buffy,” Mrs. Summers chided. “Xander is company.”
“All right,” the slayer groaned, handing over the butter dish. “I’ll be good.”
“Butter,” Xander said happily.
Tara and Willow burst into happy giggles, followed moments late by Joyce and Giles. While the others nibbled here and there on tiny bits of delicious food, Xander and Buffy each loaded another two plates and polished them clean before they finally admitted defeat and declared that they were full. Tara and Willow started to gather plates and silverware, but Mrs. Summers held up a hand.
“None of that. You girls have helped plenty for today. Why don’t we take care of everything?” Joyce said, nodding toward Giles. “”You can go out in the living room and relax, maybe find another movie while you make some room for dessert.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Buffy said happily. “Thanks.” She leaned back with her hands folded behind her head and sighed happily.
“Don’t fall asleep in here,” Joyce teased. “Out to the living room with you, shoo, shoo.”
Buffy grumbled a bit, but she was smiling when she got up out of her chair and wandered toward the living room. Willow took Tara’s hand and they rose up from the table as one, following Xander out of the room. Buffy had already settled on one end of the couch, so Tara and Willow sat at the other, Willow snuggling close to her girlfriend, grinning broadly as Tara wrapped her arms around her and held her close.
“This is the best Thanksgiving ever,” Willow whispered happily.
“It’s been wonderful,” Tara agreed in a murmur.
There was a strange little sound and Willow looked up with a blush, thinking that Buffy was laughing at her, but the slayer was lying curled up in the corner of the couch, her head jerking occasional as she fought sleep, letting out the occasional sputter or soft snore. Willow elbowed Tara gently, jerking her head toward Buffy.
“Look,” Willow said softly.
“The tryptophan strikes,” Tara giggled in a whisper.
“Actually,” Willow said, falling into full babble, “Most studies show that its actually carbohydrates that make people get so sleepy, and did you see that pile of mashed potatoes Buffy ate? I kept waiting for her to sculpt it into a mountain like that scene from Close Encounters of the Third Kind. She had that many potatoes.” Tara began to move beneath her and Willow realized that her girlfriend was holding back, trying not to laugh. “And am I a huge nerd,” she finished, bowing her head.
“You’re my beautiful, brilliant Willow,” Tara murmured, giving Willow a squeeze. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I was picturing Buffy dressed like Richard Dreyfuss, playing with her mashed potatoes.”
“You like Close Encounters of the Third Kind?” Willow asked, literally bouncing with excitement.
“I enjoy all things sci-fi and fantasy,” Tara said with a grin.
“Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly love you more,” Willow sighed dreamily, cuddling back against her soul mate.
“Love you too,” Tara chuckled.
She laid her head on top of Willow’s and they sat like that for a long time, enjoying the quiet, watching Buffy and Xander in various stages of fighting food comas. When they were both finally asleep, Willow was delighted to find Tara began to rock her gently, humming under her breath. She’d just settled back and closed her eyes; prepared to drift off into happy Tara land, when Willow felt her girlfriend shifting out from underneath her.
“Where are you going?” Willow protested softly, pulling Tara closer. “I need my Tara snuggles.”
“Will,” Tara laughed. “I’m just a little thirsty. I’ll go get a drink and I’ll be right back. I need my Willow snuggles too,” she said, pressing a kiss to Willow’s cheek and giggling again when Willow gave her another squeeze.
“Allow me,” Willow replied, releasing Tara and rising to her feet in one smooth movement.
“I c-can,” Tara began, blushing.
“It’s my pleasure,” Willow said, leaning down and kissing the back of Tara’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”
Willow move quickly down the hall toward the kitchen, considering the many different things she could bring Tara to drink. She’d just decided that she would bring Tara water and a glass of something sweet, like juice or eggnog—just to see what would tickle her love’s fancy—when she heard Giles and Buffy’s mom speaking in low, urgent voices. Willow crept up to the kitchen entryway and peeked in.
“She’s just such a wonderful, bright girl,” Giles said, pulling off his glasses, running his hands over his face. “I don’t think it’s right that she go back to living on the street.”
“Of course not,” Joyce said, nodding.
Tara. Willow thought.
They’re talking about Tara. She couldn't help the burst of anger-laced panic that tightened her chest.
Giles promised he wouldn’t tell, and he told Buffy’s mom about Tara.
“I just don’t want to make the wrong decision, Joyce.”
Willow watched as Buffy’s mother grabbed Giles’s arm. “You aren’t, Rupert.” Joyce said kindly. “You’re doing the right thing.”
“I just wish I could be sure,” Giles said, sliding his glasses back on. “I wish I could be sure.”
Willow turned and ran back to the living room, a million different thoughts flashing through her mind. Giles. Giles, Buffy’s watcher, their mentor, who had promised he would help them, was going to inform the authorities about Tara. That had to be it, what other decision could be eating at him so badly? When she walked back into the living room she found that Tara had joined Buffy and Xander in slumber, the tall blonde was curled up into the far corner of the couch, a small smile curving her lips.
We’ll leave, Willow thought. It was so simple and so clear. They would leave. Willow would take Tara out of Sunnydale, away from demons and traitorous mentors, someplace where they could be together, and safe. Her brain played traitor, flashing images of her panicking parents, of her friends graduating from high school and going off to college without her. It wouldn’t be forever. Willow crept across the living room to the sofa and settled down gently, trying not to disturb her love or her best friend. Tara sighed happily in her sleep and turned, pressing herself against willow.
Just till we’re eighteen, Willow thought.
Just till Tara’s family doesn’t have any power against her anymore.
While her friends and her soul mate dozed around her, Willow sat back on the couch, staring and anxious, planning her future as a runaway. As hard as she fought it, as much as panic and anger had her trembling, eventually Tara’s presence, her warmth, began to relax Willow’s tensed frame. She let herself relax against Tara’s body, breathing deep of her honeysuckle scent.
Willow slept; it might’ve been for a minute or an hour, she wasn’t sure, when a gentle hand shook her awake. She opened her eyes and found Tara smiling down at her, stroking her cheek gently.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Tara teased. “What happened to my drink?”
“Sorry,” Willow said, forcing a smile onto her face even as her guts clenched at the memory of the conversation she’d overheard. “Joyce and Giles were busy…cleaning and I didn’t want to get in the way.”
As soon as dinner is done, I’ll tell you the truth, Willow swore to her girlfriend silently.
We’ll go back to Giles’s and we’ll pack and then my house…and then we’re gone. Gone.
“It’s okay,” Tara said urgently. “Don’t look so sad, Willow. I’ll have a drink with dessert.”
“You’re not mad?” Willow asked.
“Of course not,” Tara replied, and she kissed Willow softly. “Now come on,” she said, standing and taking Willow’s hand. “Time for dessert.”
“I um,” Willow said. “I’m not really in a dessert mood, I think. Do you want to go back to Giles’s house?”
“Are you all right?” Tara asked, concern clear on her face. “Aren’t you feeling well? You love dessert.”
“I’m okay,” Willow assured her, rising to her feet.
I’m frightening her. Don’t be a spaz, Rosenberg. “I’m just being silly because I’m drowsy. Yay dessert!” She said, throwing her free hand in the air.
“You’re sure?” Tara asked.
“Positive,” Willow replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She broke into a jog and tugged Tara toward the dining room, leaving the blonde girl giggling.
They walked back into the dining room and found the others already waiting for them, several pies and two plates of cookies spread around the table. Every one had taken their seats in the same spot they had for dinner.
Darn it, Willow thought. She couldn’t ask Tara to switch seats with her; she would know that something was wrong. And so instead, Willow forced a little smile on her face and took a seat next to Giles. The betrayer.
“Before we start dessert,” Mrs. Summers said happily, “As is the Summers’ tradition, it’s time to give thanks.” She took a breath, her smile widening. “I want to give thanks for having a home, and a career that I love. And thanks for my daughter having found such wonderful friends to be a part of her life. Most of all,” she said, turning to her daughter. “I’m thankful for you, Buffy. I’m very proud of you.”
“Thanks Mom,” Buffy murmured, looking teary and pink in the cheeks. “I’m thankful for you too, and all you guys,” she said, looking around the table. “And I’m really thankful that we still have three more days off from school.”
Everyone laughed at Buffy’s last pronouncement, Mrs. Summers reached out to run a hand down her daughter’s hair even as she shook her head.
“I was waiting for that part,” Joyce laughed.
“I feel like I’ve already used up my quota of the thanking,” Xander said quietly, seeming a little nervous with all eyes on him. “I’m thankful to be here with all of you, and I’ll keep it short because I’m also very thankful for dessert which I can’t have till we’re all done.”
Willow nodded across the table at Xander, knowing he must be incredibly grateful to find himself spending Thanksgiving with the Summers and his friends, instead of dealing with his drunk and angry parents.
“Giles?” Joyce asked.
Willow dropped her eyes to the table. What would the watcher say he was thankful for?
“Pass,” Giles replied.
Willow’s head snapped up. Everyone was watching Giles, who began to fidget in his seat. He yanked off his glasses and began to polish them furiously on his shirt.
“That is not to say that I do not have things I am distinctly thankful for,” Giles said quickly. “I would just like to go last.”
“Of course,” Joyce said. “Willow?”
As eyes shifted to her, Willow let her hand slip off her lap, moving under the table to grab Tara’s hand. She could feel her chest, neck, and face warming as she began to blush under the combined stare.
“I’m thankful for my friends,” she said softly, looking at Buffy and Xander. “And I’m thankful to have been invited over for such a wonderful dinner.” She smiled at Mrs. Summers, who nodded her head. “And I’m thankful for love,” Willow said finally, looking deep into Tara’s eyes as she squeezed her hand.
“Awwww,” Buffy and Xander drawled.
“Funny guys,” Willow quipped. “Oh,” she said suddenly. “And I’m really thankful for the American Revolution where we kicked limey British butt.”
Everyone looked shocked. Willow careful kept her gaze off of Giles. When she looked over at Tara the blonde raised her eyebrows in a silent question.
“But mostly for love,” Willow said quickly. “I’m very thankful for love.”
“Well,” Joyce said softly. “That was very…patriotic Willow. Tara?”
Willow gave her girlfriend’s hand a squeeze as the blonde ducked her head. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and Willow was afraid she was too uncomfortable to speak, but then she took a deep breath and looked up, smiling.
“I have s-so many things to be th-thankful for that I’m not sure w-where to start,” Tara said. “I’m th-thankful for all my new friends, and for being able to help make this a nice Th-Thanksgiving for all of us.” She looked over Willow’s shoulder, her smile widening. “And I’m thankful for you, Mr. Giles. For being so kind to me.”
Willow felt herself stiffen. She turned and looked back at Giles, surprised to see that the watcher’s eyes were red-rimmed.
Feel guilty? Willow thought sourly.
You should.
“And I’m thankful for you,” Tara said softly.
Willow turned back around and found Tara staring at her, watching her with that perfect, crooked grin.
“I’m thankful for you, Willow,” she repeated. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Tara,” Willow whispered.
Tara threw her arms around Willow and pulled her close. Mrs. Summers sniffled and murmured how sweet she thought the girls were, and Buffy and Xander aww’d again. Willow didn’t pay them much mind, she was too busy holding her soul mate, reveling in the warmth of her, and praying she could find a way for them to never be apart again.
“Giles?” Mrs. Summers said softly.
Willow stiffened in Tara’s arms. “Are you okay?” Tara whispered to Willow.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She took Tara’s hand again and when Tara released their embrace, they turned to watch the watcher.
“Well,” Giles began. He began to fiddle with his glasses.
“They’re clean, Giles,” Buffy teased.
“Quite,” he said softly. “Well, like many of you,” he continued, looking around the table, “I’m very grateful to be here enjoying a delightful meal with wonderful people. I’m thankful for the work that I do,” Giles said sincerely. His gaze lingered on Buffy for a moment and the slayer gave him a little nod. “But I have found, very recently, that I am thankful for something that I didn’t realize I was missing.”
Willow couldn’t help squirming in her seat. She was trying to hold her face carefully neutral. She didn’t want to upset Tara, and she certainly didn’t want to give the watcher advanced warning, he might contact the authorities before she could get them out of town.
But so help me, she thought.
If he starts talking about Ms. Calendar I’m going to tell him off. How dare he talk about love when he’s trying to take mine away from me?
“Yes,” Giles said, nodding, pulling Willow from her angry thoughts. “Something I am very thankful for.” He paused. His eyes moved around the table again and Willow was surprised to see his gaze stop on Tara. “I’m thankful for companionship. For a sense of family.”
Willow opened her mouth to blast the watcher, but he held up a hand.
“Just a moment, Willow. I have something to say and I need to say it while my courage holds. Tara,” Giles said softly. “It has been wonderful having you stay in my home this past week, and I cannot bare the thought of you being back on the street again. There is only one solution.”
“Giles!” Willow cried.
“I would like you to live with me permanently, Tara,” Giles said with utter sincerity. “At least until you’re of age and you have nothing to fear from your family anymore.”
“Giles?” Willow said, but this time her voice shook with the question. She shook her head, feeling stunned, confused.
“R-Really?” Tara said in a whisper. Willow turned to see her girlfriend staring at Giles, tears swimming in her eyes. “You really want me to stay with you?”
The watcher nodded. Willow’s heart gave a leap and she jumped up, throwing her arms around Giles, squeezing with all her strength.
“I take it back,” she cried into his chest. “You’re a great mentor, a genius of the mentoring. And I’m sorry that we beat up so many British people during the American Revolution. Violence is never the answer.”
“Yes, well,” Giles replied, slowly lowering his arms to pat Willow on the back. “Thank you, Willow.”
The watcher released Willow and stood, walking over to kneel in front of Tara, who still looked shell-shocked.
“Tara you’re quiet, thoughtful, orderly, kind, and terribly bright. I have to keep you around in the hopes you’ll be a good influence on the rest of them.”
“On me?” Willow asked, feeling a bit hurt.
“Well, no,” Giles said, waving a hand toward Buffy and Xander. The pair was still sitting on the other side of the table. They’d been so quiet during Giles’s talk with Tara that Willow had forgotten they were there. “On those two.”
“Hey,” Buffy whined. After a moment under the stare of all her friends, her mother, and the watcher, she shrugged. “Who am I kidding?” She stood and moved across the room in a blur, pulling Tara into a hug. “Hooray for good influences!” Buffy released Tara and gave Willow a hug too.
“Perhaps a bit premature,” Giles said, smiling. “Tara you haven’t said anything yet. Would you like to stay?”
A tear slipped down each of Tara’s cheeks and she nodded her head. “Yes, Mr. Giles. I would love to stay at your house. Thank you, thank you so much.”
There was just an instant of hesitation, but then Tara threw herself into the watcher’s waiting arms, burying her face in his shoulder. Willow reached out a rubbed a gentle hand over Tara’s back. After a minute Tara leaned back and Willow pulled her into an embrace as Giles stood. Tara shook with a sob and Willow began to cry as well, feeling relief that was achingly strong, in the same moment that she grieved for the fear Tara had been carrying with her for so long.
“Joyce, would you mind getting some tissues?” The watcher asked.
“Of course,” Mrs. Summers said. “I told you that you weren’t making a mistake,” she said with a smile.
As soon as she left the room Giles knelt down again, putting a hand on Willow’s shoulder and one on Tara’s. The girls loosened their embrace enough to look at him, still sniffling and clinging to each other.
“Tara, I’m happy that you’ve decided to stay, but there are a few things I must ask of you, some of which we probably shouldn’t discuss in front of Joyce.”
“Oh, okay,” she replied hesitantly.
“First we must keep this a secret, no one can know besides us that you aren’t my niece. Well,” he said with a pause, “And Buffy and Xander and Joyce of course, because they already know. Oh, and Jenny, you’ve met.”
“Jenny?” Tara asked.
“Ms. Calendar,” Willow whispered.
“But no one else,” Giles said seriously. He pulled off his glasses and began to clean them. “It’s all rather illegal, and I think we’ll all agree that I am far too handsome and discerning for prison.”
“It’s a secret, yes sir,” Tara said, nodding.
“Secondly, you’ll have to keep a curfew.” Giles smiled. “Perhaps the same as Willow’s?”
Willow and Tara both nodded happily.
“Yes sir,” Tara replied.
“Tara,” Giles said gently, laying his hand on Tara’s. “You don’t have to call me sir, Giles will do nicely.”
“Yes s—” Tara paused, a flush crept up her neck. “Giles.”
The watcher nodded, a little smile still curled his lips. “Thirdly,” he said in a near-whisper, casting a glance toward the hallway. “No risky magics without adult supervision. Actually, that goes for both of you.”
“Okay,” Willow replied. She looked at Tara and saw a she was wearing a sheepish grin Willow was sure matched her own.
“I found the tissues,” Joyce announced as she walked back into the dining room. “Is everything okay?” She asked, taking in the scene—Giles kneeling in front of Willow and Tara, who were holding each other like they were trying to stay afloat.
“Of course,” Giles said, smiling and reaching for the box of tissues. “We were just discussing a few house rules.”
“Hear that, Buffy?” Joyce teased. “I’m not the only one with house rules.”
“Yes, Mom,” Buffy said begrudgingly, “But let’s not lose focus here. House rules, Giles?”
“Indeed,” Giles chuckled. “Lastly, but perhaps most important of all,” Giles continued, patting Tara’s hand. “You must go back to school. You’re far too bright not to finish high school, dear girl.”
A look of fear crossed Tara’s face and Willow reached out to squeeze her hand. Willow could feel Tara trembling through their gentle contact and moved even closer, letting Tara lean on her.
“I w-want to, sir,” the blonde said softly. “Uh, Giles, but I can’t. I can’t r-r-register. If I do—”
“They’ll find you,” Willow finished sadly. “Your family.”
Tara nodded, miserable and clearly fighting tears.
“Well, we’ll just have to see what we can do about that,” Giles replied. The watcher looked over at Joyce, who was still leaning in the doorway. “You might want to leave at this point in the conversation if you want to avoid incriminating yourself.
“And the kids?” Joyce asked archly.
“They’re underage,” Giles said simply. “As the adult I’ll be the responsible party, they’re just doing what I tell them to do.”
Joyce looked torn, her gaze moved over Buffy, Willow, Tara, and Xander before settling back on Giles.
“All right,” she said, nodding. “It’s dishes for me. I will now excuse myself from the illegal phase of the conversation. Leave me some dessert.” With this last wry pronouncement Joyce went back into the kitchen.
“Willow,” Giles said once they were alone, clapping his hands together. “Do you feel up to a bit of hacking?”
Willow felt a rush of affection for Buffy’s watcher. “Did I mention that you’re a genius of the mentoring?” She asked.
“I do believe you mentioned it,” Giles replied. “We’ll need to create a complete background and identity.” He looked at Tara, biting his lip thoughtfully. “We should stick with the niece cover, since you’ve already met a few of my neighbors, Tara.”
“I’m going to fix everything, baby,” Willow promised, green eyes locked to blue. “You’re going to be safe, and you’re going to go back to school. I’ll make sure of it.” Willow raised Tara’s hand to her lips and pressed a kiss on the back of it, then the palm, and then on the inside of Tara’s wrist.
“Ahem,” Buffy said, faking clearing her throat. “Focus ladies, we’re working on some serious rule-breaking here.” The slayer hopped up, smiling. “I’ll go get your laptop, Will.”
“Time to get my geek on,” Willow told Tara with a shy smile.
“My genius girl,” Tara whispered, leaning her head on Willow’s shoulder.
Buffy returned with the laptop in hand, and after fifteen minutes of steady work, Willow sat back from the computer and cracked her knuckles.
“Okay Giles, you have a younger brother named Malcolm. You were five when he was born, on Christmas, because I figured that’s easy to remember.”
“How nice,” Giles said. “I always wanted siblings.”
“Yes, but sadly he was estranged from your parents and went to University,” another flurry of typing began, “Abroad, in Vancouver.”
“Yes, well,” Giles said, “Considering my father, not surprising.”
Tara and Buffy giggled at the odd exchange, Xander just shook his head and went back to eating cookies and pie. After another half hour of typing, Willow gave them another update.
“Your brother married an American woman studying at university with him. Juliette Simons, who became Juliette Giles, and they had your niece, Tara, on October 31st, 1980.” Willow flashed a smile at Tara, hoping the girl would see the significance of her persona’s birthday. Tara nodded her head at Willow, smiling and blushing.
“That’s all very good, Willow,” Giles began.
“There’s more,” she replied, hitting a few keys. “Malcolm and Juliette died.”
“Tragic,” Giles drawled, rolling his eyes. “Is there a how yet for this terrible event that has transpired?”
“There will be in just a minute,” Willow said, still tapping away at her keyboard. “Okay,” she said, pausing after a few minutes. “There was a whitewater rafting tour accident four months ago in the Canadian Rockies. No bodies were recovered and the company was apparently pretty shady and didn’t keep good records. It turns out poor Malcolm and Juliette were part of the tour.”
“Alas,” Giles replied.
Willow nodded but didn’t speak again for almost forty minutes. She sighed and typed, occasionally biting her lip or voicing a little groan. She knew that the others were watching her closely, but she had to stay focused. Willow was more relieved than she could express that Tara had a home, and now she would make sure her love could go to school, too.
“Okay,” she said finally, leaning back against the couch cushions. “I don’t know if it’s impressive or scary that a high school in Vancouver has a better firewall than a city morgue, but I digress,” Willow said quickly as Giles opened his mouth to speak. She turned to her girlfriend with a broad smile.
“As Malcolm and Juliette’s only living relative, custody of their daughter, Tara, has been granted to one Mr. Rupert Giles,” Willow crowed. “Her records have been set up for transfer to Sunnydale High. That’s it baby,” she said, pulling Tara into her arms. “You can start school on Monday.”
“Thank you, Willow,” Tara whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you for loving me, and for helping me to find a home again.”
“I do love you, I do,” Willow breathed in reply.
“There’s just one thing,” Tara said, leaning back and looking at Giles.
“What’s up?” Willow wondered if there was something she missed as she constructed a past for the blonde.
“Do I have to call you R-Rupert?” Tara asked the watcher. “I’ll get t-tripped up all the t-time. Could I just call you Uncle Giles?”
“By the love of all that is holy, yes please,” Giles replied.
Mrs. Summers invited them all to stay that night. Giles and Xander camped out in the living room, while Willow and Tara joined Buffy upstairs for another slumber party. This time the slayer insisted that she take a turn with the blankets and comforter on the floor so that Willow and Tara could have the bed to themselves. Long after Buffy was asleep, Willow and Tara murmured little endearments to each other, punctuated with sweet, chaste kisses. In the end, Willow propped herself up on a few pillows, cradling Tara against her, stroking her golden hair. Her whispers to Willow grew softer, indistinct, until finally she was quiet but for long, slow breaths. Willow watched over her love, and rejoiced that for the first time since she’d known her, Tara’s sleep was calm, untroubled.
by love_2003 » Sun Nov 07, 2010 1:03 pm 
over here! Here comes the NC-17... Hope you enjoy. There's more kissing, I promise.
Their first time was hot!
They are in high school for cryin' out loud - and I am sooo not! Hence pervy and chicken hawk references. 
even if I do feel slightly perv-ish haha. Worth it 
I can just imagine that conversation continuing.
