Tara was quieter today than she had been yesterday over coffee, Willow noticed. She still looked a little upset— her face was pale and tight with worry, she was quieter, and her stammer was more pronounced. Willow filled the silence with a long, meandering story about her psychology class and Buffy's unorthodox but compelling answers to the previous day's questions. Tara listened attentively and smiled at the right moments, but underneath it all, she still seemed distracted and worried.

"So at first I thought maybe Buffy just had the hots for the TA, this big burly guy named Riley, but now I'm starting to think she might actually like the class. Which is cool, but also kind of weird, because I don't think she's ever liked a class before," she babbled on. Tara smiled at her, but the way she crossed her arms tight over her chest and angled her head slightly down made her seem tense and defensive.

"Buffy's your r-roommate, right?" the blonde asked, apparently prompted by Willow's lingering gaze.

"Yeah. We were best friends in high school. We started off with different roommates, but mine was super loud and crazy, and hers was a de- uh… deviant. Highly… deviant." Willow caught herself before she could finish the word 'demon,' but she couldn't tell from Tara's expression if she seemed suspicious of anything. She was giving her a strange, almost worried look, but seemed to let it go for the moment.

"That's, um… that's cool. That you got to g-go to college with your b-b-best friend." Tara attempted a half-grin, but it didn't look entirely genuine.

"Yeah, it's pretty great. I mean, we don't see each other as much as we did in high school, but it's still nice to know that she's around."

"I w-w-wish I had a r-roommate. But I have a, uh… s-single."

"But isn't that a good thing? I always thought most students would kill for a single. Especially freshman year."

"I know, but I… um… thought it would be n-nice… you know… to have s-someone around. Like a friend. O-or even j-just… someone to compare n-n-notes with. N-nobody in my family has gone to c-college before, so…"

She was clearly trying to say it casually, but Willow could sense the loneliness and nervousness behind the words, and it tugged at her heart. She had a sudden urge to put an arm around Tara's shoulders, or link their arms or hands. Anything to show her that she wasn't as alone as she thought.

"I'll always compare notes with you, if you want," she said hurriedly. Tara looked up, a spark of what looked like hope in her eye. It made Willow barrel on. "I'm a great notetaker. I write down everything. And after class, I copy all my notes into a special notebook and color-code them for maximum study-age later." Willow realized how crazy that probably sounded, especially to someone she just met. "And it's possible I shouldn't have been so quick to admit to that."

Luckily, Tara smiled at her in response. Her smile was crooked and awkward, like she was used to holding it back. Willow felt a pang at the thought, and vowed to make it come out more. The sight of it gave her a warm feeling in her chest, like she had done something right. Tara's eyes started to slip back towards the sidewalk, but they paused on Willow's hands, and she tilted her head slightly, looking interested.

"D-Do you use… um, like fountain pens? For your notes?" Tara asked. Willow gave her a surprised look.

"Not usually, no. I'm a felt-tip or ballpoint girl myself, but I did use one yesterday. How could you tell?"

"Y-your hands. They have ink on them. That, um… happens to mine, too. When I use them. It takes forever to w-wash off." Tara held up one of her own hands, and Willow saw faint ink marks on her pale, slender fingers. "W-what were you doing y-yesterday?"

"Nothing, really. Just taking notes in class. My usual pens exploded, so I had to borrow one until I could get mine cleaned off. Hence the inky hands." She wiggled her fingers a little, showing off the copious ink stains. Tara looked confused and intrigued.

"That's f-funny, that they would loan you one. N-not a lot of people use them."

"I thought so, too, but she said it wasn't hers. She just found it in her bag and it was the only spare one she had." Willow fished the pen out of her pocket and studied it for a second, barely noticing the sharp intake of breath beside her. "It isn't monogrammed or anything, but it looks— Tara?" Willow looked to her left, but Tara was still frozen several steps behind her. "Tara?"

The blonde unfroze in a rush, surging forward, eyes fixed on the pen in her hand.

"That's it! You f-found it," she gasped, a hand over her heart. Willow thought she saw tears in her wide blue eyes. She reached out with both hands, and Willow relinquished the pen. Tara rolled it over in her hands, checking it for damage, but her face and body language both showed pure relief. She swallowed hard and met Willow's eyes again. "I thought… it might be gone forever," she said in a breathless voice.

"It's yours? The girl, Julie— no, Julia— must have found it somewhere and picked it up on accident. She said she couldn't even get it to write."

Tara took in a shuddering breath, nodding, and resumed walking towards the cafeteria, still alternating her gaze between Willow and the pen. Her fingers traced over the patterns automatically, and Willow found herself almost transfixed by the motions.

"It was p-probably out of ink," Tara said, pausing to glance at the nib, testing it on the pad of her index finger.

"It can't have been. I wrote with it for the whole class," Willow said, then blanched slightly. "Sorry about that, by the way. I didn't know how important it was. I mean, I thought it looked really fancy, like someone would be missing it, but I assumed it was Julia's. When she told me it wasn't, I was going to put up a sign or something."

"It shouldn't have been able…" Tara began, then shook her head like she was focusing on the wrong thing. "It was a g-gift. F-from my mom. I thought I was losing my mind when it disappeared. That girl m-must have been in my study group."

"I'm just glad you got it back," said Willow, still watching the relief play out on Tara's expressive face. Tara pressed the pen to her chest and nodded fervently.

"Me too. Thank you, Willow. For k-keeping it safe." She gave her a look of intense gratitude, still blinking tears from her shining blue eyes. Willow nodded, feeling unworthy of the thanks, but glad that Tara wasn't upset with her.

The last thing she needed now was to start a fight with her new friend. She had tried a few more "heal my heart, restore my love, end my sadness" commands that morning, to no apparent effect.

At least she didn't feel nearly as sad now as she had earlier, although that seemed more down to Tara's presence than anything that useless wish spell had done.

"Was that what you were upset about at the library?" Willow asked, trying to keep her voice casual but gentle. "Losing your pen?"

Tara slipped the pen into her pocket, but left her hand in there with it, as though reassuring herself it hadn't disappeared again.

"No. Well… sort of. I've just… had a l-lot of weird things happen the past few days," she said. Her mood still seemed a little bleak, but at least a tiny bit of the darkness had lifted, like the sun peeking out from an overcast sky.

"Tell me about it," Willow agreed with an empathetic sigh.

"Well… at least w-we're here together, right?" Tara said, a shy, crooked smile on her face. She seemed so hopeful that Willow couldn't help but return it.

"Absolutely."