"Great idea," Buffy said, standing up and swinging her arms. "I'm going to go patrol … see if I can run into that Construct thing again.""I'll go with you," Spike said, rising to his feet and grabbing his coat. "We've got lots of hours until sun-up."
"Does this mean Xander and I can go have sex now?" Anya asked, standing up and tugging Xander with her.
"Yes," Xander said, raising her hand to his lips and kissing it gently. He had missed Anya, and all the crazy things she said, so he couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed right now.
"Well," Giles said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them again, coughing lightly. "I'll just … make up the couch and get some rest, and I'll see you all tomorrow."
"Fine," Dawn said, standing up in a huff. "Just have all the fun breakthroughs while I'm at school," she went on, moving to the stairs. As she walked past, Buffy grabbed the back of her shirt, tugging her off the stairs gently.
"Your homework all done?" she asked.
"Yes," Dawn said, rolling her eyes. "Willow helped me with it this afternoon."
"Good," Buffy said, nodding, then hugging her sister. "Good night."
"Good night," Dawn said with a little smile.
"Good night, Dawn," Tara said before looking around the room. "Where are-?"
"We muscled them up the stairs," Xander answered. "They're in your room."
"Thank you," she said simply, smiling and waving as Buffy, Spike, Xander and Anya filed out the door. Moments later, Anya rushed back in.
"I had fun," Anya said, giving Tara a great big hug. "We should do that again sometime, when we don't have to worry about Hell Gods and things."
"It was fun," Tara agreed, remembering fondly the happy parts of the trip.
Anya smiled happily, bouncing out the door, humming 'Wannabe', making Tara laugh.
"What was that all about?" Willow asked slowly. Tara tugged on her hand again, pulling her playfully up the stairs.
"Guess what Spike had in his car?" she asked, an impish smile lighting her features.
"Blood?" Willow hazarded a guess.
"Four Spice Girls tapes," Tara said, laughing at the thunderstruck expression on Willow's face as she stopped in her tracks right outside their door.
"Spike listens to the Spice Girls?" Willow squeaked.
"Uh-huh," Tara said, nodding. She opened the door, feeling a sense of peace settle around her as she walked into their room. It felt so good to call it that again. Their room.
Willow walked in, closing the door behind her. "The Spice Girls?" she asked again, her image of Spike turning on its side and dancing the hula.
"If you wannabe my lover, you gotta get with my friends," Tara sang softly, performing the choreography she and Anya had put together. "Make it last forever, friendship never ends."
"Oh, god, stop," Willow said, holding her stomach and laughing.
"If you wannabe my lover, you have got to give," Tara pressed on, grinning at the sound of Willow's laughter. "Taking is too easy … that's the way it is!"
Willow wheezed helplessly, falling onto the bed and laughing harder, Tara flopping down next to her and joining laughing along.
"Oh, I needed that," Willow finally said, a few more chuckles shaking her frame.
"Anything you need, anytime you need it," Tara said seriously, leaning up on one elbow and looking down at the redhead.
"Yeah?" Willow asked, a little smile on her face.
"Mmmhmm," Tara confirmed.
"Well, I need to see these other drawings," Willow said, her smile growing.
"Right now?" Tara asked uncertainly, not sure she wanted to get into the conversation her drawings would naturally lead to right at that moment.
"Yes," Willow said, nodding emphatically.
"Well, okay," Tara said, rolling off the bed and gaining her feet. "I'm gonna' get in my pajamas first," she said, moving to the drawers and pulling out a nightgown.
"Oh, umm … should I, uhh …" Willow said, motioning towards the door, suddenly uncertain as to exactly where they stood with each other.
"Umm … how about … you, uhh … help?" Tara offered slowly, looking up at Willow through her eyelashes.
"Help?" Willow said, her voice cracking on the word like a pubescent boy. "Oh, umm … sure," she said, walking over to Tara. "I, uhh," she began, moving her hands towards Tara's body several times, then drawing them back.
"Hey," Tara said, lifting Willow's chin so that their eyes met. "C'mere," she said softly, pressing a light kiss to Willow's lips and tugging her into her arms.
Willow's eyes drifted shut, her arms wrapping around Tara in return. All too soon, the kiss ended, but the embrace lingered, and Willow let herself relax in Tara's arms.
"Okay," Willow said after a moment, pressing her lips gently, reverently, to Tara's neck. "Let's get you changed," she said, pulling back and tugging Tara's t-shirt out of her jeans. Tara lifted her arms over her head, letting Willow pull it completely off, then pulled her in for another hug, humming her approval when Willow traced the soft skin of her back.
"Let's get you, too," Tara said, turning in Willow's arms and opening a drawer as Willow pressed her cheek to her back in a hug. Tara smiled and pushed around several articles of clothing, finally finding the comfy flannel pajamas with the happy little monkeys on them and pulling them out. "Off with the comfy sweats, and on with the comfy monkeys," Tara said, turning back around and tossing her nightgown and Willow's pajamas on the bed.
"Shoes," Willow instructed, and Tara laughed, kicking off her shoes as she tugged Willow's top up and over her head, leaving her short hair in a state of adorable disarray. Tara found herself unable to resist the cuteness, and leaned in again, pressing her lips to Willow's for several long moments as Willow expertly unclasped and removed her bra.
"Nice," Tara murmured, getting another hug, and biting back a moan as their bare breasts pressed together.
"Uh-huh," Willow agreed, nodding into Tara's hair. Tara tilted her head up to place a light kiss on Willow's temple, her hands sliding down Willow's sides and past her hips, taking the fabric of her sweat pants with them.
"Commando?" Tara asked, raising an eyebrow as Willow stepped out of the pool of material at her feet. "Oh, honey," she said before Willow could respond, her brow furrowing as she lightly traced the visible ribs on Willow's torso.
"I, uhh … haven't been hungry," Willow confessed.
"That's not good for you," Tara admonished, reaching around Willow to grab her pajamas. She helped Willow step into the bottoms, then slipped the top over her head, tugging her arms into place. Willow smiled, feeling absurdly like a three-year-old, but completely loved and cherished by the woman standing topless in front of her.
Then again, maybe she didn't feel three years old, she mused, a warm flush steeling over her as she gazed at Tara's breats.
"I thought you wanted to see drawings," Tara said with a knowing look, causing Willow to blush harder and snap her green eyes up to meet Tara's blue.
"Well, I …" Willow stammered. "Right … drawings."
Tara smiled, moving her hands to her waist to unfasten her jeans.
"No, let me," Willow said softly, reaching out and undoing the button. She lowered the zipper, then hooked her thumbs under the jeans and Tara's panties, sliding them past her hips and letting them fall to the floor. "You're so beautiful," Willow said on a sigh, letting one hand rest gently on Tara's waist.
"Thank you," Tara said, her own color rising.
"Here," Willow said, turning and picking up Tara's nightgown. Tara raised her arms, and Willow slipped the nightgown onto her body, tugging the smooth fabric into place. "There," she said, smiling at Tara.
"I'll grab the drawings. You get in bed," Tara offered, moving to the trunk that held her art supplies and lifting the lid.
"Okay," Willow said happily, feeling as though everything was right in her world. None of it mattered, really. Not the Hell God. Not her illness. None of it could touch the joy and contentment she felt sharing this time with Tara. She got into the bed, turning off all but one light, situating the pillows behind her so she could sit up comfortably resting against the headboard.
Tara paused, her hand resting on the sketchbook, a flash of uncertainty rushing through her. Was Willow ready for this? Was she ready to tell her?
Her hand closed on the book, and she lifted it, cradling it against her chest and rising. No more secrets, she decided inwardly. With wary resolution, unsure of the reception this revelation would receive, she crawled into the bed, sliding under the covers and snuggling up to Willow's side, her head resting on her shoulder.
Eagerly, Willow took the book, raising her knees and resting it against them. She flipped back the cover, and stared.
It was her, again, but younger. She supposed she was maybe, twelve? Thirteen?
"I … how did you do that?" Willow asked in amazement. "That's exactly what I looked like. I don't think I showed you any pictures, or …"
"Turn the page," Tara said. With a puzzled frown, Willow complied, seeing her own face again, only a little older. Her face wasn't as lean as it was now, and she guessed she was probably fifteen or sixteen in the picture.
"Did Xander show you old pictures or something?" Willow asked. "How … I mean, you drew these while you were on your trip?"
"No," Tara said softly, shaking her head against Willow's shoulder. Willow tucked her chin back so she could look down at Tara's face, seeing the slightly worried expression there.
"Then when?" Willow questioned.
"Before my mother died," Tara said, turning her head so she could look back at Willow.
"Before - ?" Willow said, gaping at Tara.
"Yeah," Tara said. "I … I used to dream about you. When I was little, you were my best friend," she confided solemnly. "And when I grew older, I used to dream that you'd come to my house in a magic helicopter, and you'd take my mom and me away to someplace where we'd be happy and safe all the time."
"I … you did?" Willow questioned weakly.
"Yeah. I did," Tara confirmed.
"Why - why didn't you tell me that before?" Willow wondered aloud. "And … you … you didn't feel … safe? At home?" Willow questioned tentatively, fearing the answer.
"No," Tara said, shaking her head, her eyes watering. "It … my dad and Donnie, they'd … umm," she started, pausing to compose herself.
"Hey," Willow said, closing the sketchpad and setting it aside, scooting down and turning so she was lying face to face with Tara, reaching up a hand to gently trace the lines of her face. "What'd they do, baby?" she asked gently, trying to meet Tara's eyes with her own, only to find that Tara kept glancing away.
"They'd, uhh … I remember once, when I was … oh, eight. Nine, maybe? Mama and I went on a walk, and she was teaching me about the plants," Tara related in a small child-like voice, her eyes troubled and distant. "She was gathering some up in a little basket, and then she took my hand, and we walked back to the house. It got dark, and kind of spooky, but Mama was there, so I wasn't scared. And then we got into the house, and Papa grabbed her basket. He started yelling, and he was … he was so angry. Then Mama told me to go to my room, so I went up the stairs, and Donnie was waiting for me at the top," she said, her voice trailing off.
"Then what happened, sweetheart?" Willow asked gently, her eyes sad as she looked at Tara.
"Donnie said that Papa was gonna' hit Mama, and that she deserved it, because she was evil," Tara said simply. "He said that I was evil, too, and that Mama and I had to be kept in line, so that we didn't hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. He said we deserved it, because we were bad. I called him a liar, and tried to move past him, but he pushed me down. Then he sat on my chest and pinned my arms with his knees, and told me to listen. I tried to get up, but I couldn't. Then I heard Papa and Mama yelling at each other, and then I heard the hitting. I started crying, and Donnie slapped me hard, in the face. Just once, but he said that as I got older, he and Papa would have to hit me more, to keep the town safe."
Willow's chest ached and her jaw was clenched tight, a deep anger rising up in her. She pushed it down, but it called to the darkness inside her, lending it strength and weight. She shut her eyes tight, her body taut as a bowstring.
"I -" Willow ground out through clenched teeth, pulling Tara fully back to the present.
"Shh," Tara said gently, rolling onto her back and pulling Willow into her arms. "It's okay," she soothed, stroking Willow's hair as she trembled. "I got out, and I'm okay now," she said sincerely. "Everything's okay now."
"But … how could they … you're so … and they," Willow said, lifting her head and opening her eyes. Tara flinched when she saw the black inky pools where she usually saw her beloved green. "They … I …" Willow stammered, her whole body starting to shake.
"Willow," Tara said, looking deep into the black magick eyes for the first time. And found, oddly, that she couldn't hate what she saw. There, in the swirling inky depths, she saw pain and fear - Willow's pain and fear, and instead of the revulsion, she felt only sorrow and compassion and a deep bottomless love for this woman who felt so strongly, with all of her being, on Tara's behalf.
"I … I can't," Willow groaned, shutting her eyes tight again, darkness leaking from the corners as she convulsed. Tara's heart ached, and she saw - truly saw - exactly how torturous stopping the magick was for Willow. How much strength did it take for this woman to clamp down on these emotions, and stop herself from casting? Feeling that strongly, Tara wondered if she could do the same.
It was … scary, seeing Willow's eyes shift to that eerie blackness, but … Tara knew, like she knew how to breathe, that Willow was fighting the darkness the Trickster kept sending with everything she had. And that, Tara realized, made all the difference. And if the root of Willow's problems rested in her lack of faith in herself, then Tara would just have to have enough faith for the both of them.
"I love you," Tara said simply, reaching out and brushing her fingers against the black tears, gasping when she felt exactly what Willow was feeling - all her rage and heartache transferring through that touch. "Willow, come back to me," she whispered as the blackness disappeared, leaving only a natural trail of tears sliding down Willow's face.
"They … hit you?" Willow asked, her eyes fluttering open, revealing an aching sadness in their green depths, and she reached out to cup Tara's cheek in one hand.
"Yeah," Tara admitted, nodding her head a little and taking in a deep shuddering breath. "Are you okay?" she asked, brushing away Willow's tears gently with her thumb.
"Baby, I'm so sorry," Willow breathed, a fiercely protective streak welling up inside. "It's … this darkness is building, and I'm fighting it - God, I'm trying. I'm trying so hard."
"I know you are," Tara said, leaning in, Willow's eyes fluttering shut as Tara brushed soft kisses across her eyelids. "I know you're fighting, baby - and I'm here to help you fight it."
"I didn't know … I'm so sorry they … God, how could they?" Willow asked, looking a little lost. "And I … I just …I wish I had been there. I wish I had been your best friend when you were a little girl, and that when you were older I had come for you in a magic helicopter. I wish I'd taken you and your mother away to someplace you could be safe and happy," Willow said, her voice heavy with regret.
"Things happen for a reason," Tara said, her voice serene. "And if I had had a nice home life, I never would have come to Sunnydale. I never would have met you."
"I - That … that can't have been worth it," Willow said tremulously, her face falling. "I'm sorry that … that I'm not what you've deserved."
"It was worth it," Tara said seriously.
Tara opened her mouth to say more, but stopped when Willow spoke in a rush. "What happened when you went back?" Willow asked quickly. "Are you … did they … You're all right? You're okay?"
"I'm fine. It was … really strange," Tara said slowly. "It was … almost like my dad was a different man. He was polite, and respectful. We talked, and he … he said it wouldn't make up for what he did, but he was sorry. And that he'd been wrong, and that he'd let the people of the town and his own superstitions and fears overrule his better judgement in how he treated my mother and I."
"I … Tara, that's …" Willow said, unsure of how to respond to that development.
"That's pretty much what I was thinking," Tara said wryly. "I … just didn't know what to think. Then Donnie showed up," Tara related. "He hasn't changed."
"He didn't …" Willow said slowly, her voice low.
"Hurt me?" Tara asked. "No, but he tried. Dad realized that Donnie was outside as Anya and I were leaving, and he came out on the porch with a gun."
"A gun?" Willow asked incredulously. "A gun."
"MmmHmm … and he pretty much threatened to shoot Donnie if he didn't back off and let me go in peace," Tara said, a look of wonder crossing her face as she thought of her father sticking up for her.
"I guess … I guess your dad … changed?" Willow said uncertainly.
"I think he really did," Tara said, a full smile crossing her face. "I, umm … I still don't know if I want to go visit, or have him here, but I think … I think I'll probably write to him. About how things are going here. He had lots of questions about Sunnydale."
"Are you okay with all of this? Happy?" Willow questioned.
"Yeah," Tara confirmed. "It's … I had given up hope of ever … of ever really knowing my father. And then, it was like - it was just handed to me. Like a gift."
"Then I'm happy for you," Willow said, letting go of the anger she wanted to hold against the man on her lover's behalf. "You have … such a big heart," she said, a tremulous smile on her lips. "I've never known anyone who could love as selflessly as you."
"You can," Tara said softly, brushing a lock of Willow's hair behind her ear.
"No, I … I'm very selfish," Willow disagreed with a frown, her eyes full of pain and regret. "I've been … I've been selfish."
"No, not selfish," Tara disagreed with a shake of her head. "Scared. You've been scared."
"Yeah, I'm … I … I've been doing a lot of thinking, 'cuz y'know, this whole 'gonna die in a couple of weeks' thing, it … sorta' makes you think," Willow started to babble, only to stop when Tara pressed a finger to her lips.
"No talk of dying," Tara said seriously. "Because I'm not letting you go." Her words slipped in Willow's ears, and made their way down to wrap gently around her heart, holding her fast to the here and now, making the chances of her dying seem … ridiculously small in the face of such utter certainty.
"Okay," Willow agreed after a moments pause, letting her faith in Tara dispel her fears. "But I … I've still been thinking, and I realized that … I've been so stupid about the magick because I'm so scared that … that I'm … that I don't deserve the people in my life," she confessed slowly.
"Is this about how people treated you in high school?" Tara asked gently.
"I … yeah," Willow said. "How did you know about -?"
"Anya and I had lots of time to talk," Tara said wryly. "She … she told me about what high school was like for you. And I just … I want to go back there and grab everyone who made you feel less than you were by the shoulders and just … shake some sense into them," she confessed. "It's … they made fun of you. I don't like that."
"I was pretty damn ridiculous," Willow said, unwittingly defending those who had hurt her so badly. "I … I didn't dress right, I didn't say the right things … I was too smart, and not pretty enough. I just … I never saw why such wonderful people would care about me, when not even my parents ever gave a damn. I mean, the only time my mom ever really took notice of what I was doing, she tried to burn me a the stake."
"No," Tara said, shifting so they were laying side by side again, facing each other. "They were stupid thoughtless kids who didn't realize what a treasure you are. And you're parents - Willow, I don't know how two people who are so clearly dumb had a daughter as smart as you. And the stake thing was a Hellmouth thing, right? I mean, even Joyce got all caught up in that. So you listen to me," she went on, her voice intense, capturing Willow with her gaze. "You're beautiful, and I love how your brain works. And the way you babble … it's just … it's the most endearing thing in the whole world," she went on, earning a shy smile from Willow. "And who cares if you weren't wearing the latest fashions? You were surrounded by shallow morons, but that's not your fault."
"Thank you," Willow said, letting herself really hear and believe the words as Tara spoke them. In her mind, she had always known that what Tara said was true, but in her heart? She had always felt like something was wrong with her - something terrible, or why else would people make fun of her like that?
But hearing it from Tara - knowing that Tara knew just how unaccepted she had been, and was still there with her, snuggled up in bed - it gave her heart something to hold on to. It gave her heart something to believe in.
"You're welcome," Tara said, kissing Willow gently. "I love you, you know," she said seriously, brushing a bit of hair back from Willow's face. "More than anything." Their lips brushed, again and again, then their eyes fluttered closed as they made firmer contact, both caught by surprise by a rising need that demanded they re-connect on the most basic level.
Tara gasped, a slow burning starting up in the pit of her stomach and spreading as Willow's tongue reached out tentatively to trace her lips, her hand resting delicately on her hip. Tara reached her hand up to Willow's jaw, tracing it lightly, then urging her closer, opening her mouth to the woman she loved.
Their kiss deepened with twin moans, and Tara shifted back, pulling Willow with her until Willow's warm, firm body lay fully upon her own, her delicious weight pressing her into the mattress. Hands traced lightly over shoulders and arms, their kisses slow and tender.
Willow's heart raced as she felt Tara's soft body moving beneath her, and Tara's hands tracing whisper soft caresses along her back and shoulders through her flannel pajama top. She pulled back from the kiss, taking in deep lungfuls of air before diving back, drawn helplessly to the lush fullness of Tara's lips. Tara's breath caught in the back of her throat as Willow's mouth descended upon hers again, this time hungry and passionate. She let her hands trail down Willow's back, easing them back up under her shirt, raking her nails softly across the skin there and making Willow shiver.
Their kisses slowed and eased as they explored each other's mouths, each feeling as if it had been too long since they had last kissed like this. Playfully, Willow nipped lightly at Tara's lower lip, a slow smile spreading across both their faces before their kisses intensified again, their joyful passion rising.
Willow was always aware, in the back of her mind, of this kind of pressure, pushing her towards magick and darkness, her insecurities and fears threatening to break loose from the place she had locked them tightly within her. Tara's touch and kiss pierced the very heart of her, the light of their love chasing back the shadows, freeing her from her prison.
"Are you okay?" Tara asked slowly, pulling back when she tasted the saltiness of Willow's tears on her lips.
"More than okay," Willow said, raising herself up on her elbows, a beatific smile crossing her face.
"Do you… do you need to stop, or …?" Tara asked uncertainly.
"No, I don't want to stop," Willow said. "Umm … do you? Want to stop?" she asked carefully. "Because if … I mean, if you're not ready, I -"
"I don't ever want to stop," Tara said. Willow bit back a groan when Tara's fingers and palms brushed over her achingly hard nipples as she slowly pushed her shirt up her body. Their eyes locked as Tara reached behind Willow, pulling the back of her shirt up to her shoulders, that contact breaking when Willow had to duck her head as Tara kept pulling. The shirt slid down Willow's upper arms, landing on Tara's chest, her forearms still encased in the fabric. "No, stay," Tara said, when Willow started to sit up, intent on removing the piece of clothing entirely.
Instead, Willow merely nodded, caught in Tara's eyes as Tara ran her fingers lightly up her sides, over her shoulders, then back down the front, trailing around the curves of her breasts, and past her ribs. Willow's eyes drifted shut as she bit her lip when Tara slid her hands up her stomach to gently cup her breasts.
"Oh, God, I've missed you so much," Willow moaned, her head dropping forward, her forehead resting against Tara's as Tara teased and pinched her nipples.
Tara adored Willow's body - every dip and curve and angle. And touching Willow? It thrilled her, the feel of Willow's skin against her hands sending shockwaves of arousal through her body and to her core. But the angle was awkward, so Tara arched her hips, pressing into Willow and turning them over, lifting Willow's arms, still tangled in her shirt, over her head, grinning wickedly as her lover gasped at the sudden change of positions.
Willow opened her mouth to speak, only to have her words stolen away by a groan when Tara immediately ducked her head, her tongue finding her nipple and lavishing it with attention. Two strong hands held her elbows easily, keeping her arms raised as Tara's leg slipped between her own.
Reflexively, Willow's back arched, pressing her nipple against Tara's mouth, her action rewarded when Tara began suckling on it gently. Willow really had no idea how she had been tossed onto her back so easily, but she couldn't complain - didn't have the breath to complain, anyway.
Tara toyed with Willow's nipple, alternating a gentle suction with light nips and licks, groaning softly when Willow's hips arched against her thigh, feeling the heat of her lover through the meager layers of fabric separating them.
"God, Willow," Tara moaned out, moving to the other nipple and pressing her leg firmly against Willow's center, the heat radiating there calling to her.
"Tara … Tara, I need … God," Willow ground out, rocking against Tara's thigh.
"What do you need, Baby?" Tara asked, her breath playing over Willow's nipple making her shiver.
"You," Willow gasped, even as Tara's hand started drifting down her body, torturously slow. "Now, please," Willow begged, Tara's fingers blazing a trail of fire across her skin to dip teasingly below her waistband, tugging the elastic down around Willow's hips to grant her easier access.
"Tell me," Tara requested, freeing Willow's arms and moving back up to kiss her gently, her hand sliding further into her pants. Willow tossed her shirt off the bed, reaching up and tangling her fingers in Tara's hair, pulling her head down and kissing her deeply.
"Inside … I need you inside," Willow gasped out against Tara's mouth. Tara moaned, sliding her fingers through Willow's wetness, the slick heat coating her fingers. Willow whimpered as Tara entered her, arching her hips to taker her lover into her body more fully.
"You feel so good," Tara groaned, their open mouths brushing together, Willow's hands, sliding down Tara's body to her waist, gathering the silky fabric there in her hands and pulling it up past Tara's hips
"God, Baby, you're so wet," Willow murmured, her fingers teasingly trailing along between Tara's legs, then gasping as Tara started moving inside of her, pumping in and out slowly.
"Take me," Tara demanded on a whisper, groaning when Willow complied, her fingers entering her slowly. "Oh, God, Willow …" Tara moaned, raising herself up on one arm and straightening it, pumping her hips on Willow's fingers and gazing into her eyes as they gave each other the most intimate caress.
"So good … so good," Willow mumbled, her eyelids heavy as her hips rocked against Tara's hand, unable to tear her eyes away from the look on Tara's face. The loving, wanting look, that thrilled her, knowing she had put it there.
"Oh, yes, Willow," Tara gasped, moving her hand and her hips faster, then biting down on her lower lip, watching Willow's face display all the pleasure she was giving her, and the love she had for her.
Their moans and cries filled the room as they moved faster - harder - against each other, their eyes never leaving the other's face.
"Willow, baby … I'm … so … close, so close," Tara managed to say, her words barely intelligible through her gasps.
"Oh, Tara … Tara, baby," Willow responded, pulling Tara down on top of her as they came together, pleasure coursing through their bodies in waves, meeting and multiplying and returning, again and again until they lay together limply, gasping for air.
"I … I …" Willow started to say as she slowly, gently, withdrew her fingers.
"MmmHmmm," Tara agreed lazily, a satisfied smile stealing across her face as she, too, withdrew.
They laid snuggled together, floating a foot above the bed, exchanging soft touches and smiles, and the occasional gentle kiss, neither needing to say with words what they had said with their bodies moments before.
p