Author's Note: I just wanted to apologize for the terrible delay, again it was a matter of inspiration, and considering the inspiration I believe it took just to get me here… let's not get in to it, shall we? Anyways – I know it's been a long (checks date)… Wow. Eight months? Really?! Whoa… I suck! Wow, okay, so if there's ANYONE left on the face of the planet that even remembers that this fic even existed – that is if you all haven't died off from old-age by now– I hope you like it. Thank you for waiting if you did. And if you're a new reader; be warned; I take forever to update. Vixen

Ink Blots, Chapter Ten;

( Scorching )

Tara ran. She ran and ran until she thought the air filling her lungs had frozen solid and burned like dry-ice. She was no athlete, but she knew she was going fast, probably faster than she had ever run before, because she had never been so scared before. She raced around every corner, little thoughts flitting through her head. Night… Vampires… Near the Bronze… Not safe… Buffy said - but then she threw even more behind the hasty patter of her feet, energy she didn't have but forced out.

She turned corners so sharply and suddenly she almost toppled right over and fell a few times, smashing through groups of people as she went. Taking a second to realize, she was both shocked and not. She'd never run like this before in her life! Hell, even in the physical fitness exam for school she'd walked it and taken a poor grade because she knew she couldn't run.

And she still knew she couldn't. She was already exhausted to the point of nausea and dizziness. Her uneven and fast breathing had her hyperventilating – she was starting to feel the painful prickle of pins and needles in her cheeks. The bottoms of her feet hurt and her knees ached from the shocks of each hard stomp to the ground and the hard hammering of the organ beating in her chest.

She had no idea how far she'd ran; she had never counted, but she knew it was further than she'd even run before. She could run two blocks to catch a bus, or down a few halls to get to a class before they closed the doors, but this was… well. She was shocked that when her legs wobbled and went weak at just seeing Stevenson Hall in front of her that she could force them to keep her upright – and still running!

Blasting through a group of students and through the double-doors, she ran up the six flights of stairs and hastily jammed her key in the lock and collapsed right through it. Literally. As she slammed it shut behind her, she fell to her hands and knees to the floor, and felt her stomach clench and turn. She'd come so close to vomiting she felt the acidic taste in her throat, but instead she fell, face-first onto the ugly standard-issue orangey carpet and breathed and breathed.

God it hurt! All of it. Everything. Breathing, her lungs, the air in her lungs, the more she breathed the more it seemed to burn. Her muscles burned and felt like they were being replaced with woven strings of lead that would never allow her to move again. The floor beneath her cheek rumbled and shook from the people on her floor; people in the halls, in the next rooms, life outside of the painful shell she'd turned her body into.

Her body hurt so much, but she didn't care. She was thankful that it was so overwhelming. It helped to block out the incredibly stupid thing she'd just done back at the club. What little thoughts could get through the constant Ow…Ow…Ow… were self-berating and grating at what little self-tolerance she had. She was happy to be so consumed in something so painful than the realization that Buffy and her Scoobie gang would definitely not be inviting her over for demon-fighting again anytime soon.

Suddenly a sound broke through her internal pain and physical exhaustion. She'd only caught the tail end of it, and slowly she realized it was the ringing of her dorm-phone. It must have rung a few times already, as when the next ring came, it was cut off at the end and replaced by her message-machine. To tired and aching to get up, and with no breath yet to talk, she simply laid with a cheek down to the floor and listened, hoping that it wasn't her father, or Willow asking Tara to return one of her spell books or some other badness she didn't need just then.

"'H-Hi, th-this is Tara M-McClay.. L-Leave a m-m-message…'… BEEP!" there was a pause, and she waited with what would have been baited breath, but she was still gasping on the floor like some land-bound fish, determined to learn how to breath out of water. Lifting her head the littlest bit she could, she was surprised that even those muscles were tired… oh well.

"Tara?" came a familiar, but more quiet voice. Regardless of her body's demand for more oxygen, Tara's breathing flat out stopped at hearing Buffy on her answering machine. She also couldn't help but notice that she sounded nervous. "Tara? I know you're there… I followed you all the way back to the dorms when you ran out of the bronze… Look, I get the needing to run away thing – according to Dawn I'm the queen of dramatic exits, but I wanted to make sure you were alright…"

She paused again, and suddenly Tara's breath came back even, but still slightly fast – now she was nervous. Sitting up she devoted an ear to what the blonde was saying.

"Tara… I just… I needed to tell you that I'm sorry." What little part was left of Tara's heart broke and tears she hadn't even noticed colleting fell from her eyes and hit the knees of her floral skirt. "What happened tonight.." she said, sounding hesitant, "I didn't mean for that to happen. I had no idea anything was going to go that far and I just…" she took a deep breath and sighed loudly and tiredly into the phone "I'm sorry if I pushed it too far." At that her head snapped to look at the machine so fast she might have strained her already tired neck.

"What?" Tara whispered into the emptiness of her room. She was utterly confused, where as Buffy it seemed was nervously laughing into her receiver.

"You run really fast for a human, I'll give you that." She joked tensely, "I just wish you'd stayed around so I could explain – or maybe apologize. … Tara; I'm sorry if I just jumped on you, but I dunno… It's like, when I'm with you, like nothing else matters – like maybe you're on whatever small mental wave-length I'm tapped into." She sighed anxiously but tried to explain, "Tara, look, what I'm trying to say is – "

And the machine cut off.

"No!" Tara said, almost frightened, stumbling to the foot of her night-stand to give her answering machine a Brutus' stair as she internally panicked. Then there was a loud but hesitant knock at the door.

"Tara?" she called, the Slayer's voice drifting through the door. She was obviously trying not to wake then entire suit, it being as late as it was (even if it was a Saturday night). Tara sat, stock still, by the night-stand and gaping at the door.

"Tara? I was calling from the pay-phone in the hall… Your machine cut me off and… and, well… I want to talk to you." Tara didn't move.

"Look, Tara, I know it was wrong for me to put you in that situation. To… Be that close to you, to touch you like I was, but… I thought you liked me… I guess I should say I hoped you liked me – I can tell it wishful thinking what with the running away and all but… I dunno. There were a few times there when I felt like maybe you didn't just out-and-out hate me." Tara got up and walked to the door, her hand an inch from the knob. Buffy laughed in a sad, bitter kind of way.

"Granted not-hate doesn't exactly scream 'kiss me!' either, but… Tara I'm sorry I violated you like that… I just came here to apologize and to… I don't even know any more - - explain, maybe. So I'm sorry. That I took advantage of you, that I forced you into this freaky-demon-fighting inner-circle of Sunndale weirdos… That I abused whatever feelings you may have had for me… I dunno. Goodnight."

Taking in every word, and at the same time trying to figure out what had happened, and what she was going to do, it took Tara and extra second to grasp that goodbye meant Buffy was leaving. Flinging the door open, she looked up and down the halls. The blonde was gone.

"WAIT!" she called loudly, not caring who she woke or what she was going to say as long as the Slayer didn't leave thinking she was mad at her. Taking a quick step out into the hall, she saw that she'd caught Buffy as she was about to walk down the stairs. In fact, she'd only made it down a few before her sudden exclamation made the shorter girl attempted a too-sudden about face, and fall on the freshly waxed stairs. Grunting in pain as she fell, Tara rushed to her to help the girl up.

"I'm fine, I'm alright I just…" Buffy trailed off as the taller woman pulled her up by her elbows and inspected her. As she stood to her (limited) full height, their eyes caught for the first time since they kissed – in fact the very gesture that lead to their kissing, and a pointed but awkward silence followed as Buffy cleared her throat then suddenly grabbed her side.

"Are you alright?" Tara asked quickly. Buffy seethed a bit, a hand still pressed firmly at her ribs, and nodded. "You don't look alright…"

"In my defense my Slayer reflexes are usually a lot better than that – you just surprised me," She said, prodding her side with apt fingers, signs of pain on her face, " - - besides; I think they just waxed the stairs." She finished lamely, but Tara couldn't help but smile.

"They were waxing them when I got out of my tutorial this afternoon."

"Who waxes stairs? At a college? That's just asking for trouble." The Slayer grumbled as she stopped poking her fresh injury. Tara nodded, wanting to laugh if she wasn't so nervous.

"Are you going to be alright?" Buffy grunted sourly but nodded.

"Yeah, just a couple of broken ribs." She said, obviously unhappy with it, but that it wasn't out-of-the-ordinary. Tara, on the other hand, wad not used to having people breaking their ribs around her.

"Come in side, let me get a look at you; see how bad it is?" she asked, as though it was a question, when they both knew it wasn't. Buffy had come here to talk to the taller girl, and when she'd almost left Tara had called her back. The broken ribs just seemed an excuse to make sure they couldn't run away… or get in to a fist-fight over whatever was going to be said.

"Yeah. Thanks." Buffy mumbled, awkwardly. Tara lead her into her dorm and had her sit on her bed while she took out her first-aid kit. It was a large white, plastic box, slightly yellowed with age, but almost as equipped as the one Giles kept.

"Impressive." Buffy commented. Tara smiled distractedly as she took out an instant ice-pack and popped the inner packet. "How long have you had it?"

"Oh, you know," Tara evaded, semi-casually, "Since I started Scoobying. Thought it might be good to have a few supplies. Buffy took in the aged plastic, but didn't argue. Tara noticed. "I bought it used." She defended, "Just renewed the supplies." Buffy just nodded, not even paying attention anymore.

She was looking fixedly at the slightly taller woman as she rummaged through the box for something in particular. Having found it in a small red tin, she turned back to find her eyes locked with Buffy's again. They looked at each-other again, and Buffy looked to her feet, inches from where Tara knelt in front of her on the floor.

"Tara, look, I know I've been a jerk, and I just wanted to come here and apologize, and tell you that… well, I know you don't socialize much – and I don't mean that as an insult! – but I just wanted you to know, you're always welcome with the Scoobies. At least… well – I'm pretty sure." She added, somewhat less confident, not every inspiring. Buffy must have seen it on the Sorceress' face, so she stumbled onwards.

"Well, you see, I don't think we've ever really had to deal with a situation like this before, you know? It's never really been… uh… brought up, you know? But I know those guys; this really shouldn't be an issue, you know?" Tara nodded, even though she wasn't sure she believed. Reaching out she lifted Buffy's right arm, and the girl grunted in pain. Tara quickly pressed the ice-pack to the injury and grimaced as the blonde tried to plow on.

"If they were that closed minded, I don't think they'd have given up all their free time and risked their lives endlessly to kill the undead… They just don't fit the profile…" Tara nodded, still not quite looking at Buffy, trying to figure out how to explain what was happening to Buffy. Then the slayer broke out into laughter, grunting in pain as she did, but it seemed to just make her laugh harder. The sigh alone Made Tara giggle – no matter how anxious she was.

"What?" Buffy had to take a deep breath to even answer.

"Did you see the look on Xander's face?" As soon as the words left her lips she started laughing twice as hard, but groaned even more. Same effect – she just kept laughing. Even Tara couldn't resist. Xander did look a little glazed about the eyes and drooly at the lips. "I think it's safe to say he wouldn't mind. Granted, I not sure his imagination needs any more fodder."

"Probably true." Tara said, calming first, "And here I would have though Anya would help stem the tide a bit." Buffy shook her head, finally done giggling.

"I think she may have made him worse." Tara smiled. But the tension was back as soon as they realized they were thankful it was gone.

"Tara," Buffy started out seriously, the room now silent except for the sound of Buffy adjusting her ice-pack one last time. "I know I've been a terrible person – I'm like the boy-scouts, but backwards." Tara looked at her confused. Buffy scrunched up her eyebrows and tried to explain.

"You know how some policies don't allow gay people to have certain jobs, or join certain clubs?" Tara nodded, "Well the excuse is always that they can't help themselves, that they'll start becoming attracted to all the straight people and they'll try and corrupt them. Like they can't help themselves. Well, okay – the idea is bullshit." Tara's eye widened, but Buffy kept going. "It's stupid to think that; it's not like gay women are attracted to all women, just they ones that peak their interest." Tara nodded, indicating for her to go on.

"Well, I just wanted to say… I'm sorry I assumed. I know you're no different than anyone else; you have a 'type' of person you like, they just happen to be women, and it was wrong of me to assume that - - well, you know - - that 'cause I'm a girl that you would like me. So… I'm sorry for the flirting, and the close-dancing and all the… anvils I've been dropping." She sighed deeply as she closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose and sounding pretty disgusted with herself. She's cute when she's stressed… I'll have to remember that.

"It was just that… there was something that grabbed me, from the first time I saw you since LA." She chuckled, burring her face in her hands, sounding as tired as Tara felt, "When you couldn't remember my name, you went for the first word that came to mind… which was 'Bitch'." Both girls laughed, and Buffy peeked between her fingers to look at the sorceress.

"I wanted to show you I wasn't the same, maybe to prove it to myself… but even when you swore that you forgave me, that you knew I'd changed, I still wanted to be better. Like I couldn't be good enough for you." She reached forward and pushed a stray bit of hair that had fallen loose during her run behind her ears. A move that had become almost expected between them, yet oddly intimate.

"No one's made me feel that way in a long time. I don't want to ignore it." The air around them became heavy, and Tara was shocked at how caught up she was in the poetic words of this usually rather detached woman.

"I could not be more sorry." She said shakily, so sinsere it stopped Tara cold. "I never meant to push myself on you like that, or make you feel like you had to act a certain way, or do something you didn't want. And, if you want… I'll go. I can wait for you to contact me, if ever. I promise." Tara smiled sadly, feeling bad for letting the girl ramble on this long without relieving her of some of her guilt. But as she opened her mouth to do so, the blonde interrupted.

"Look, I know you have a kind of person you're attracted to – you're probably like me – it's not even a hair color or a certain kind of music, for me it's not even a gender! It's just People…" That made Tara stop. Did she just say what I think she said?, "When I know them, I just know. And you're just one of those people. And I just… I just thought that… I dunno." She sighed and bent her head to look at the carpet, hidden by her hair. "I just hoped that if you knew me… maybe you'd like me too." She whispered.

I could definitely love this girl.

"Buffy." Tara said solidly. Not a hint of a stutter. With a confidence and a security so strong even she was unable to remember what she sounded like with a stutter. She gently reached forward, and tilted the Slayer's head up with a few soft fingers at her chin. The smooth hazel eyes that looked at her scared and confused spoke volumes of her fear. Pushing the impossibly soft bottle-blond hair behind cute round ears for once, she smiled, and leaned in close.

"Buffy," she stated, looking fixedly at the eyes that flitted around her face, trying to take in every feature, memorize, and try and figure out what was going to happen next, to figure out how she would be falling asleep that night; in tears or in dreams. "If you know only one thing about me, you know that its that I'm shy…" She trailed off slowly. Buffy nodded slightly, her chin balanced on the fulcrum of Tara's steeple'd fingers. "And if I remember correctly…" She leaned in, allowing their noses to touch, their foreheads to connect, and their eyes to meet.

"I kissed you."

Leaning in, Tara took her first taste of Buffy's lips as a woman without fear.

( To Be Continued… )

VixenRaign