Tara downed her second cup of coffee that morning, hoping it would help perk her up a bit.

Tuesdays were her busiest days, she had a full schedule of classes, then just enough time to grab something quick to eat before she had to get down to the bar to play her set. She'd only been doing the piano gig four nights so far, but was finding the job wonderful, she hadn't played in a while, so had gone in early the first day to brush up and quickly fell back into the swing of it.

Her grandmother had insisted she learn the instrument, and she had forgotten just how much she enjoyed playing, having stopped when Ruth got sick. Today, however, she definitely wasn't the mood to sing oldies love ballads.

She'd woken up early on Saturday morning, the night after the party and finished cleaning up, having been too distracted after her kiss with Willow to do it the night before. The redhead had woken up a few hours after her and had had a terrible hangover, as Tara had suspected she might, and had spent the day drinking coffee and taking a steady dose of painkillers, seemingly oblivious to what had gone on after her forth or fifth beer in the night, which had still been relatively early.

Tara tried to act as normal as possible, figuring that the redhead either genuinely didn't remember the kiss, in which case the brunette had no idea how to even approach bringing it up, or Willow did remember but was pretending she didn't because she regretted it and didn't want it to jeopardise their friendship or living situation by telling Tara so.

What Tara didn't know was that Willow, initially, couldn't remember a thing, but after sleeping for the afternoon and nothing short of a bucket of coffee, she had remembered.

Everything.

Drinking, talking to a bunch of people, then trying to dance, failing, and Tara being kind and gentle, getting her into her room safely. And then…then she remembered practically attacking her roommate, pulling her into a kiss, then going asleep. She didn't remember, or wasn't lucid enough to comprehend the fact, that Tara had responded quite eagerly to the kiss. In her mind, she'd forced herself on the other girl and now Tara was just being kind by not mentioning her drunken indiscretion.

Even if the 'indiscretion' happened to be what both girls wanted most in the world.

Tara checked her watch and groaned at the time, going over to the table and grabbing her laptop bag, to take notes in class. Willow came out of her room, still in her pyjamas and a robe, wearing fluffy bunny slippers and the brunette couldn't help but smile at how adorable she looked.

"Morning," the redhead said groggily, wiping her eyes.

"Morning. I'm just heading out to class."

Willow looked at her and gave her a shy wave.

"Have a good day. Learning and so forth."

"I will," Tara chuckled, "You too. I'm working tonight so I may not get a chance to get home between class and that, so I'll see you later?"

"Okay. Bye, Tara."

Tara left with an echoing 'bye' and moved quickly down the stairs, out of her building and towards the university campus.

Willow put her feet up on front of her on the sofa and placed the bowl of pasta she had made on her lap. She picked up the remote and turned the television on, flicking through the channels, and smiled when she saw one of the old movie channels was showing 'BUtterfield 8', one of her favourite Elizabeth Taylor movies, underrated in her mind, but one she enjoyed nonetheless.

She settled down to enjoy her dinner and relax for the evening, letting the images of the movie in front of her play out.

A couple of hours later, the credits were rolling and Willow was thinking she maybe hadn't chosen the best movie, one where love – and one of the protagonists – dies at the end was not good for her already mopey frame of mind regarding relationships. She turned the television off before walking over to the kitchen and started loading her dishes from dinner into the dishwasher. It didn't take long and she turned the machine on before going into her room and getting some of her notes from her classes that day.

She had already read over and added her own comments to the pages, but figured going over it again couldn't hurt.

Ten minutes later, when she still hadn't been able to read past the first sentence, she closed over the notebook and stood up, going into her room again, this time to get a jacket, deciding that going for a walk might clear her head a little. She went out the front door, locking it behind her before leaving her building and turning left, not having any particular route in mind and took in the scenery around her, thinking, not for the first time, how beautiful New York at night was.

She continued to walk around, feeling her head becoming less muddled as she did so, until a familiar face in a window caught her eye. She looked up at the name of the establishment and recognised it from the bags Tara took her home a muffin with. She looked through the window again and was surprised when she saw the brunette sitting behind a piano, her lips moving in what Willow assumed was the accompanying song to whatever she was playing.

I thought she said she was working? Well, this is where she works…maybe she's on a break? Or maybe she actually is working… I had no idea she could play the piano… I bet she plays beautifully.

Before she even realised she was doing it, she opened the door and stood among a group of people near the bar, hearing the closing bars of a song and a round of applause. She watched Tara smile and take a drink from a glass of water beside her, before moving back to talk into the small microphone set up on top of the piano.

"So this is the last song of the night-"

She was interrupted by the rest of the room groaning in displeasure at this news, making her smile even larger.

"Hey, don't blame me, the bar doesn't have a late liquor licence."

There was a round of laughs, Willow chuckled too and hopped onto a bar stool, figuring she might as well stay for the last song.

"I'd like to dedicate this to anyone who has a colleague, or an old friend…"

Willow saw the brunette sigh slightly before continuing.

"Or a roommate that they just don't know how to tell them how they feel."

Willow's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat as she recognised the opening bars of Elton John's 'Your Song' start to play, coupled with the dedication she had just heard.

Did she say roommate? She said roommate. But she said colleague and old friend too…But roommate was different…she said it different… Oh my god, she said roommate. Did she mean me? I…I think she meant me…oh, god…I really think she's singing this about me.

She listened intently, lost in the emotion in the brunette's voice before she recognised the sounds of clapping and shook her head to try and regain her senses. She watched Tara stand - her breath catching as the saw the slinky black dress she was wearing, a slit running up her left thigh, giving the redhead a tantalising view of skin that she ached to touch - and give a small wave to the crowd before grabbing her glass of water and going through a door leading into the back room.

She nodded her head a couple of times, still trying to comprehend everything she had just witnessed, trying to work it out in her mind, before jumping off the bar stool and leaving through the front door.

Tara splashed her face with some cold water in the small employee bathroom and wiped the droplets off with a paper towel. She really did enjoy her nights at the bar but after her full-on day at school, was feeling pretty tired. She made her way to the break room and grabbed her jacket, pulling it around her body and buttoning it so it fit around her snugly, before going back out into the bar, seeing it almost empty apart from the bar staff and a couple of regulars who were finishing their drinks.

She gave a small wave to the others and walked out the main door, pulling her jacket tighter around her when she felt the chilly night air.

"Was it my song?"

She spun around in place when she heard a quiet voice pipe up behind her, opening and closing her mouth in confusion when she saw Willow leaning against the wall, hand in her pockets.

"Willow?"

"Was it my song?" Willow repeated, straightening up.

"You were in there?" Tara asked in shock as she began to understand the redhead's question.

"Was it my song?" Willow asked for the third time, her voice thick with emotion.

Tara opened and closed her mouth a few times before gulping and moving forward, cupping the smaller girl's cheek with one hand, looking down at her with vulnerable eyes.

"Of course it was."

Willow wrapped her arms around the brunette's neck and moved in closer.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?" she whispered quietly.

"Very okay," Tara whispered back.

They moved even closer together, their faces only inches apart, until Tara piped up again.

"Wait."

Willow pulled her head back but kept her arms in place, a look of fear crossing her features.

"I just, I have to make sure…you're not…you haven't been drinking, have you?"

Willow let out a low laugh and moved in again, caressing the other girl's neck.

"Not a drop. But I wanted to do it as much then as I do now."

"Oh thank god," Tara managed to get out before crushing her lips against the redhead's, dropping her hands and holding the smaller girl's waist as the kiss deepened.

Their tongues clashed passionately, bodies moving closer and closer until not even air could fit between them. The cold of the night was being replaced by the warmth of each other, tingles shooting straight through the both of them. They stayed kissing for what could have been minutes, hours or days, neither girl knew or cared, until a street lamp above spluttered and died, the sparks of light making them pull away.

Willow looked up at the light, then back at the brunette before speaking in a low, throaty voice.

"Take me home, Tara."