Chapter 7

"Willow, it's time for dinner," Sheila Rosenberg announced from the doorway. Willow looked up from her laptop, where she was showing Tara some of her favorite Wicca sites. Both girls lay side by side on the bed on their stomachs, two pairs of eyes now moving from the screen to Willow's mother's face.

"Okay, we'll be right in," Willow answered. Tara had been slightly surprised that there was so much information online, since she'd never had time or computer access to investigate and see what was available. She had to admit her books seemed a bit arcane now that she'd seen that Willow had so many resources at her fingertips whenever she wanted them. But there was just something about having the actual books, which she was sure Willow would understand.

Willow disconnected from the internet and closed the Apple, and then both girls made their way into the dining room. It felt completely different than dinner at the Maclay house, which Tara appreciated greatly. Mrs. Rosenberg, who only called Tara 'Tanya' once before getting her name correct, went on about a paper she was researching for quite some time. Mr. Rosenberg was mostly quiet, but when he asked a question or made a comment, it was well thought out and to the point. Growing up in a house like this, it was little surprise that Willow had such a quick mind.

Almost as an afterthought, Mrs. Rosenberg inquired about Willow's day, and she went over what had gone on in her classes, making a special point about the experiment they had done in Chemistry lab. Both her parents nodded their approval. They didn't ask too much about Tara, but she didn't mind that much. She complimented Mr. Rosenberg on the meal, which was actually fantastic, especially by Tara's new dining standards, which unfortunately included a lot of ramen and instant foods. She was having a hard time getting used to cooking for only one person instead of three, and her budget had been pretty limited.

After the meal, Tara offered to help clean up, but the Rosenbergs wouldn't hear of it. She was a guest, after all, but her offer was appreciated. The young women excused themselves and returned to Willow's room. "Your dad's a great cook," Tara grinned, taking a seat on Willow's bed. "The marinara sauce was so good! And the breadsticks!"

"He doesn't usually do breadsticks," Willow smiled, sitting down close to Tara before scooting slightly farther away. "I think he did that special 'cause you were gonna be here."

"Well," the blonde said with satisfaction, "I'm glad he decided to make them. And that you invited me over."

Green flecked eyes met blue ones. "Me too." Willow continued to look into Tara's eyes for a few moments, then began to fidget nervously and looked at her socks. "So," she began, "um, what is this? I mean, this thing with us. 'Cause ever since that day, there's been this … connection. At least, I've felt a connection. I wasn't imagining a connection, was I?" Tara smiled gently and shook her head. "Is it, is it because you're a witch, too?"

Not sure what to say, Tara gulped. "I think um, maybe?" It was a lame answer, but there may have been some truth to it. Whenever they touched, Tara could feel Willow's power, but it was thus far largely untapped. Perhaps it was better for now to go with the less complicated answer, since she wasn't sure exactly what Willow felt, and wasn't sure Willow was totally ready for the rest of it anyway. She still appeared to be pretty attached to the idea of getting Oz back, and Tara couldn't deny Willow this chance at happiness. If being with Oz was what she wanted, Tara would not stand in the way.

"Oh." Willow seemed to accept the stammered answer pretty easily. "So how long have you been, um?"

A soft, almost dreamy smile crossed Tara's face. "Since I was really little, almost as long as I can remember. My mother, she was … amazing. She knew so much, and was so full of magic. She used to say I was her little pixy, to make me smile. My father didn't approve of it, though, so we weren't allowed to…" Now a rueful look clouded her face. "It was … bad, if he saw us. She hid a lot of her books, so he wouldn't burn them. I brought them with me, when I came here. They're almost alive, in a way, with all the memories they hold. It's not just words and spells, it's life."

"Wow," was all Willow could manage. The way she talked about magic and her books was wondrous. For Tara, it obviously wasn't about floating pencils or even restoring a vampire's soul, it was about life and time and love. The more she got to know about Tara, the more there was to like. And Willow definitely wanted to know more.

They continued talking well into the night, until Willow started to get the sleepy voice, which Tara recognized right away. "I think it's time to go to bed," the fair-haired young woman said gently.

"Aww, we didn't even do our homework! And, and the air mattress! We forgot!" This seemed to upset the young witch even more than the fact that she hadn't done her homework, which for someone of Willow's academic discipline was saying a lot.

Tara was unable to hold back a chuckle. "It's okay, Willow, don't worry. I'll just, I'll take the guest room."

"But you don't like it in there, I know you don't. Stay in here. I'll sleep on the floor, okay?" Willow suggested.

"No, no, I'll take the floor." Off Willow's concerned look, she added, "I'll be fine. It's not like I've never slept on the floor before."

Willow shook her head, and the voice of logic stepped in. "You know what? This is silly. The bed is big enough for both of us, we were both on it earlier and we're both on it now." She paused before continuing, "I don't mind if you don't."

There are not enough words to describe how not upsetting that idea is, Tara thought. "I – I don't mind."

"Then it's settled. Now I need to brush my teeth and stuff, so … I'll be right back." The fiery-haired girl opened a drawer and pulled out a few items before leaving for the bathroom. She returned wearing a worn purple t-shirt with a unicorn rearing across her chest and a dark pair of shorts. She shot a grin at Tara, who smiled back. "Your turn, Blondie," she said playfully.

Tara shouldered her backpack, now grinning at Willow's little nickname. She quickly washed, then brushed and flossed her teeth and changed into an orange tank top and blue cotton shorts. She returned to Willow's room to find it darkened, illuminated with a bedside lamp and, she now noticed, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. "Hey," she whispered as she entered. Willow was already in bed, on the side closest to the door. Tara set her bag down and walked around to the other side of the bed, pulling the covers back and sliding in between them.

"Hi," Willow said sleepily, then flicked the light off. "Look at the stars."

"I was looking at them," Tara smiled, then turned to watch Willow's face instead. "Very beautiful."

The redhead girl closed her eyes and snuggled down into the blankets. "Good night Tara."

"Good night, Willow."