Something

Dumbsaint

DISCLAIMER:  Don’t hurt me, Joss, I’m just building perty sandcastles

in the cracks in the sidewalk of the Buffyverse… and making with the W/T

smoochies.  Also, this is my first non-smuttified fic, so be nice.  Heh.  I got

to feeling all romantical…

PAIRING:  W/T

TIMELINE/SPOILERS:  Takes place S4, mid- “The ‘I’ In Team.”

RATING:  PG-13 for smoochies.

DISTRIBUTION:  Sure, just lemme know.

FEEDBACK:  If you wanna drop me a line, that’s always cool.  Graashoppa@aol.com

SUMMARY:  Willow and Tara start to come to an understanding.

Surprised that someone would be knocking on her door at this hour, or at all

really, Tara had startled at the noise and now rose to answer it.

“Willow,” she started, her face brightening as she recognized her late caller.

Offering Tara a contrite smile, the redhead began to speak haltingly, a little

unsure of herself.  “Funny thing happened with my prior social engagement.

Pretty much ended when a friend of mine went off to do something with… another

crowd she hangs out with.”  Willow paused for a moment, her voice laden with

apologetic self-deprecation.  “Irony is kind of ironic that way.”

A hopeful expression appeared on Tara’s face, her gaze tentative but holding

steadily to Willow’s.

“Anyway,” Willow continued, fidgeting slightly, “I know it’s late, but I

thought… I mean, if you still wanted to… do something.”

Her mouth twisting upwards into a shy smile, Tara opened the door wider,

invitingly so, and a grinning Willow entered.  Brushing past the blonde as she

closed the door behind them, Willow caught the scent of her, orangey, and a

little bit of vanilla.  She breathed it in deeply and stopped in the middle of

the room, looking around.  She’d been here before, but struck by a sudden,

inexplicable wave of shyness, she searched the walls anew for something to draw

her attention.  Something to comment on maybe.

“So did you w-wanna…” Tara began, hesitating a moment as Willow’s eyes met her

own again.  The slight charge that passed between them was distracting and Tara

found herself forgetting what she had been about to say.  It ran through her

like an electrical current searching her skin for an outlet.  “Um,…” Tara made

the attempt to finish her original thought, but was simply at a loss as she

continued to gaze into the emerald depths of Willow’s eyes.  Unconsciously, she

took a step closer to the redhead.

Her bout of timidity momentarily forgotten, Willow smiled warmly back at Tara.

She found herself moving closer as well.  The gap between them came quickly to a

close, the two standing toe to toe, grins ever widening.

“We could, um,…” Willow took one of Tara’s hands in her own, interlacing their

fingers, “do a… um,…”

Tara drew a shaky breath as Willow’s fingers connected with hers, and then she

gave a long, slow sigh.  The energy that had been coursing restlessly all

through her- it quieted, achieving a steady ebb and flow instead of surging,

crackling up and down against the inside of her skin in hot rivulets.  Its

course had been frustrated.  Incomplete.  But now- …she felt like one of those

little hollow glass spheres with an electric current running through it.  The

power merely crackling around in the center, unfocused, agitated, hunched in on

itself and unable to act until someone touched it and drew out tiny, purple

veins of lightning that made your skin prickle and the hair on your arms stand

on end.

“Hey,” Willow said softly, calling Tara back into the present.  “Where’d you

go?”

Tara’s absentee expression gave way to one of her soft smiles. “Hmm?”  She gave

Willow’s hand a gentle squeeze.  “Just… here.”

“Yeah,” Willow said, her voice quietly appreciative.  Inwardly she marveled at

the sensation of this simple touch.  It seemed to get stronger each and every

time now...  “I-” feel it, too.  She couldn’t quite say it, though she ached to.

Apparently she didn’t have to.

“Me, too,” Tara ventured, her eyes intently focused on Willow’s face.  There

was something so open in Tara’s gaze.  There was uncertainty, and fear, but also

something so achingly tender in the way Tara looked at her.  There was such

softness, and behind that hidden and untapped depths of strength.  Like sugar

melting on hot metal, in that unwavering azure regard.

Trying to read me like a book, Willow thought, smiling to herself.  And I bet

you could.

The intensity of the moment was broken as Willow gasped, only then noticing the

variety of random articles about the room that were levitating around them.

“Oh!  Tara look!”

In the surprise of this discovery, their hands slipped apart.  As the contact

was broken the floating items started to waver and fall.

“Whoa!” Tara cried out just as Willow reached hastily to recapture her fingers,

clasping them tightly.  That seemed to do the trick, causing everything to

stabilize once more.  Tara stared at their joined hands now, conflicting

emotions flickering across her face. “It- it’s okay, Willow,” she said

hurriedly, seeming apologetic all of the sudden for the continued tactile

contact between them.  “There’s not anything breakable-“ she started to slip her

hand out from Willow’s grasp, but the redhead only held more tightly to her,

smiling almost coyly.

“No,” Willow put as much reassurance into her voice as she could.  “Tara, it’s

wonderful!”  She laughed, delighted, craning her neck to get a better look

around at the kinetic display before turning back to look into the pair of

reticent blue eyes before her.  “Look at what we did.  And we didn’t even know

we were doing it.”

Tara seemed unsure just a moment longer, sparing another nervous glance at

their hands before relaxing visibly.  “Yeah, it is kind of neat, isn’t it?”

Willow nodded, excitedly.  “Nothing breakable, huh?”  The redhead giggled and

shot a mischievous expression Tara’s way.

Grinning back, Tara asked, “Yeah, why?”

Willow reached with her free hand for Tara’s remaining one, and moved so that

they stood very close together, facing each other, both hands held upward, palm

to palm.  “Watch the stuff and see what happens,” Will suggested.  “We’ll be all

scientisty and do an experiment.”

“Aren’t you going to be watching, too?” Tara prompted, catching the redhead’s

eye.

“Uh huh,” Willow replied absently.  ‘Cept I’ll be watching you, she neglected

to add.  “Now watch!” she commanded.

Quickly sliding her fingers down over Tara’s hands she broke contact for just a

moment, the levitating articles dutifully starting to drop, but they bounced up

again and continued to bob up and down as though held by an elastic string as

Willow began to flutter her fingertips, ticklingly, along the skin of Tara’s

palms.  The blonde witch giggled and squirmed, but a mock-stern rebuking look

from Willow kept her from protesting too much or pulling away.  Tara was also

too busy watching her t-shirts, stuffed animals, and a few little votive candles

twitch and turn, and spin about in midair.

“Is it working?” Willow asked, changing the pressure of her touch on Tara’s

hands.  Now she caressed her palms in slow, downward sweeping motions, trailing

her fingers down the blonde’s forearms for good measure.

“Yes, you’re causing my belongings to do their take on ‘The Nutcracker Suite.’”

Tara smirked.  “Hey, I thought you were supposed to be watching, too?”  A slight

flush had begun to creep up the back of Tara’s neck and she craned it briefly,

trying to stretch it away.  Willow’s touch was starting to affect her in ways

that she wasn’t sure were what the redhead intended.  She could feel the other

girl’s gaze on her skin, fluttering over her like a second pair of hands.

“All in good time, my pretty!” Willow cackled, teasing her.  “Enough ballet,

let’s see if we can get them to swing dance- oooh!  Or mosh even,” she enthused,

sliding one hand down Tara’s waist and tickling her there, too.  Turned out that

that spot was particularly volatile, as Tara responded with an instantaneous

shriek, grabbing defensively at Willow’s hands and giggling madly.  Grinning

like a madwoman, the blonde witch hauled Willow’s slighter body against her own,

holding her arms so that she couldn’t do any more damage to her painfully

ticklish torso.

Willow let her head fall onto Tara’s shoulder, chuckling, not the slightest bit

repentant.  Tara let one of the girl’s arms fall, bringing her hand up to smooth

Willow’s hair.  Her other arm slid around Willow’s waist, and she found herself

holding on to her- tenderly but firmly.  She didn’t give herself time to be

scared, or to anticipate being pushed away.  It just felt right to have this

woman in her arms at precisely this moment.  Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but

swallow anxiously when she felt one of Willow’s arms wrap around her as well,

pressing her close.  The hacker’s other hand came up to rest on her collarbone,

very near to where her face was buried against Tara’s throat.

They swayed together slowly, both silent for a moment before Willow asked,

comforted and quieted by Tara’s touch, “What are they doing now?”

Tara looked down and saw that the girl’s eyes were closed.  Her breath was

coming unevenly.

“Slow dancing,” she answered softly, her mouth right next to Willow’s.

Recognizing how close their lips were without opening her eyes, Willow parted

her lips slightly, a wistful sigh escaping them.  Her hold on Tara’s waist

tightened, fingers pressing her flesh more insistently and dipping under the

bottom of the shirt she wore to graze her skin.

“Tara,” she whispered.  It was a question, a gentle entreaty.

The blonde witch answered her with her lips, brushing them ever so gently

against Willow’s.  Searchingly, they moved against one another with an exquisite

tenderness that left both breathless.

Through the haze that had come over her, Willow opened her eyes and met Tara’s

inquiring gaze.  The blonde was looking at her with an expression of sweetly

vulnerable longing, her lips still parted in surprise.  She appeared to be

trying to form the ‘w’ to say Willow’s name, but didn’t seem able to quite get

there.  Will brought one hand to the blonde’s face, stroking her cheek tenderly.

An answering pressure on her free hand appeared as Tara recaptured it, copying

Willow’s earlier caressing motions before letting their fingers entwine once

more.  The wistful look of hope on the girl’s face was almost more than Willow

could bear, like she still desperately wanted to believe that this was really

happening but couldn’t, or thought Willow would change her mind any second now

and bolt from the room.

Willow slowly brought their clasped hands to her mouth, turning Tara’s in her

own, and without breaking their eye contact, brushed her lips against the soft

skin that covered Tara’s palm.  Still tentative, but starting to draw courage

from Willow’s touch, from the unwavering, silent message that she was wanted,

Tara continued the downward sweep of her hand, running her fingers searchingly

across Willow’s lips and letting them linger there, tracing their shape.  The

redhead kissed those, too, smiling even as she did so, her eyes radiating

adoring reassurance.

And then it happened.  Some inner switch seemed to flicker on behind Tara’s

eyes, its reach extending down into the upturned corners of her mouth as her

smile started to show itself in slow gradations.  Her face lit up, incandescent

with joy as the acceptance of what had just happened, what was still happening

set in.  She let her fingers trail downward along Willow’s jaw and then back up

again, threading them through tendrils of copper red hair that she smoothed

behind Willow’s ear.  So many times before tonight she had longed to do this,

just to make this simple gesture of affection, but she hadn’t dared.

And here was Willow, standing before her, as close as she had ever wished her

to be, smiling, encouraging her, wanting her.  Willow, here in her arms at last.

With a slight whimper, Tara leaned forward and kissed her again.  Willow moved

against her with a barely restrained hunger, neither of them quite trusting

themselves yet to give free reign to the mounting passion they felt.  But still,

Willow moved her body in closer, pressing herself into Tara’s flesh.  Her other

arm came up over Tara’s shoulder, tangling gently in her hair.  Tara’s hands

cupped Willow’s face as they kissed and kissed until, breathless and panting

slightly, they broke apart, arms and hands still clutching, caressing.

Willow pressed her cheek into Tara’s touch, into the hands that traced her skin

in delicate patterns, almost reverently.  “Can I stay tonight?” she asked, her

tone wistful.  “I want-“ she saw the tiniest bit of nervousness in Tara’s eyes,

and couldn’t help but smile, feeling anxious herself.  “I want to fall asleep in

your arms,” she confessed, both hands dropping to encircle Tara’s waist.  “And

wake up there, too.”

“Yes,” Tara spoke, finally, her radiant smile appearing once more.  “Yes, stay.

I- I want you to stay.”  She captured Willow’s lips again with her own, unable

for the moment to stop kissing the girl she adored.

Fifteen minutes later they were snuggled close under the covers, Willow’s head

pillowed on Tara’s shoulder.  Hands still caressed skin, silkenly trailing

fingertips shyly exploring the curves of collarbones, jawlines, all the

intricately shaped places where shoulders joined necklines.  They lay like that,

rediscovering the simple joys of touch and exchanging lazy kisses for a small

eternity, before finally drifting off into sleep, both resting assured that

something powerful had been started in motion that evening.  Something almost

too precious to hold or hope for, but impossible to deny.  It lay between them

now, a gentle trickle that would grow into a stream, that would swell into a

river, overrunning everything in its path.  Something was begun, and both slept

on, tucked into it and each other, dreaming of tomorrow.

Fiction