Willow hurried to get to her shop. She'd practiced in the mirror longer than she had intended. She usually left around 7:45 in order to have the girls at school by eight and open the shop at 8:30; however, school was out, and she waited half an hour: fifteen minutes longer than she should have. Kennedy had called that morning, tell her she wouldn't be working for a bit. Shewas still with Faith. Willow had sent a text message to Dawn, asking her to take Kennedy's shift. She had even offered to pay her. Upon hearing money would be involved, Dawn practically begged for it. "But only if I can work the register. No cleaning!" was Dawn's only request. Willow agreed, thankful Dawn as helping and insisting on being out of the way.
Though business was slow in the mornings, Willow had her work cut out for her. It was Thursday, meaning she had to get her inventory together so she could prepare for the 'End of School / Beginning of Summer' sale on Friday. She had asked the gang to help out the next couple days, but there were very few of them that could. Buffy was out of school, but Robin helped Faith at the gym. Most of the girls preferred training and goofing off to helping. And Xander had a job. She only trusted Amanda, Shannon, and Gerti, the older of the slayers to help anyway.

Dawn burst into the store a little before eleven. "I'm sorry," she exclaimed. "Stuff came up this morning, but I'm here now."

Willow looked at her and then again at the clock. "Dawn, you're a few minutes early. Kennedy never got here before eleven, so you're okay," she laughed.
"Oh. I must have misread your message. I thought you wanted me here like an hour ago," she said relieved.
The woman laughed and asked, "What happened this morning?"
Dawn walked behind the counter, set her purse down, and squealed that Spike had asked Buffy on a date.
"Oh, that's wonderful!" Before being wrapped up in their gossips, Willow quickly remembered Dawn. "Dawnie, I don't mean to be rude, but I can't talk right now. I've got to do inventory, and now that you're here, I can actually start." She smiled and moved into the office.

She sat at the desk and began making her list. After many minutes of silence, she jumped when the phone rang. "Maclay's Magic Shoppe, Willow speaking. How can I help you?"
"Willow? Hi, it's Tara," the quiet voice said.
It's Tara! Oh my goddess! I have to ask her! her thoughts screamed at her. "Hey, Tara! I was actually planning on calling you. I got wound up doing inventory."
"Oh, I'll c-call you back later, since you're busy."
"No!" she exclaimed. This was her chance. "I'm not busy! Is there something you need?" she asked, calmer than she had started.
"W-well, I—umm… Would you- like to have coffee with me?"
"Coffee?" She's asking me out! Willow did her happy dance in her chair. "Sure! When?"
"Noon? The place on fourth street?"
"Sure. I'll see you there!" Willow waited for the phone to click before she hung up. She immediately dialed Buffy, telling her she was going to take a long lunch but needed her to help Dawn at the store. She rushed out, telling Dawn she was meeting Tara for coffee, that Buffy would be here soon. She was so happy for Willow; Dawn could've cared less about Buffy coming.
Willow ran to the coffee shop, getting there seven minutes early. She didn't see Tara so she sat outside at one of the small round tables that had a patio umbrella. A waiter came by, asking what she would like. She said she was waiting on someone and asked if he would come back when her friend was there. Willow was beyond anxious. Butterflies swarmed in her belly. Her palms began sweating. She wiped them on her jeans, but it didn't seem to help. Her leg bounced rapidly, and her fingers played with the end of her shirt. Why didn't I dress up today? It's not like I knew I was going to have coffee with her, but geez woman! She looked at the small watch on her wrist. She'd only been sitting for two minutes.
"Are you always this nervous?" a voice said from behind her.
Willow smiled and turned quickly to face Tara, wearing a light blue sundress. "Only when I'm meeting you."

Tara blushed violently and walked to the table. She sat, and the waiter reappeared. He took their orders, hovering over Tara, glancing where he shouldn't. Willow cleared her throat, gathering his attention. He looked to her, noticing her glare, and took off quickly. After making small talk about weather, and how the other was doing, the waiter returned with a tray of food. Willow's stomach had grumbled when she ordered, so the two had decided to get more than just coffee. He quickly handed Tara her chowder, cappuccino, and bottle of water. Willow smiled politely, noticing he didn't try what she had thought he did earlier. She received her sandwich and frozen mocha frappe with a smile. The waiter practically ran from their table.
"I wonder what's his problem," Tara chuckled.
"No idea," Willow replied with a bright smile. She was so happy she didn't know where to begin their conversation. "So, umm what do you do?" Yeah, that's simple. Small talk is good. Right?
"I'm a teacher," Tara said before she took a bite of her chowder.
"That's great! What do you teach?"
"Well, after I graduated from UCLA, I moved here. I got a job at the junior high school, teaching eighth grade English and social studies. Some of the kids are brats," she confessed, her voice just above a whisper.
"I would imagine!" The two giggled, mentioning a few of the antics they had done or witnessed at that age. As the giggling ceased, Tara became a little serious, asking what Willow had done in college and what happened to Oz. Willow mellowed almost immediately at the sound of Oz's name. "Well, I never graduated from UC, because we had that whole-end-of-the-world thing. But, I haven't seen Oz since you saw him last. We—um—decided it was best to just be friends. I get postcards every once in a while."
"O-oh," Tara stuttered. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I was the one who decided it though. Things were-uh- different, between us." Both ate in silence for a minute, leaving awkwardness in the air. "Did you meet anyone while you were at UCLA?" Willow asked cautiously.
"I had a few friends. I wasn't interested in them romantically though."
"Why not?" she asked she sipped her chocolate filled drink, eyeing the chocolate laced over the whip cream.
"They weren't right for me," Tara shrugged. Both had finished their meals. A waiter came by, removing the dishes and handing them a ticket. As he set it on the table, both women reached for it at once. Their fingers touched, a spark emitting from the contact. Neither withdrew their hand. They looked at the other, smiling shyly. "I've got it," Tara insisted.

"If you've got this, then I've got dinner tomorrow night," Willow said with a sudden burst of confidence. Whoa. Where did that come from? She smiled almost cocky with her new attitude.
Tara looked shocked, but she smiled in return. "Willow Rosenburg, are you asking me on a date?"

Willow's confidence shattered as immediately as it hit her. "Well-uh- maybe. It doesn't have to be, but you know. If you want?"
"See you at seven?" Tara walked off with the ticket, leaving Willow open-mouthed and dumbstruck.