CHAPTER SIXTEEN: SORE
(This probably replaces Seeing Red, except, y'know, with no nerds, and no Spike. Just wonderful bathtime fun.)
The house was quiet, Willow and Dawn were sleeping in their respective rooms, but Tara Maclay couldn't seem to fall into the bliss of unconsciousness. With a sigh of annoyance, Tara threw the covers away from her body and slipped out of bed, creeping down the hallway, careful to navigate her way around the creaky areas of the floorboards that she'd memorised over the last few months.
She crept downstairs, heading towards the kitchen, surprised to see light shimmering beneath the crack of the doorway. She opened the door, smiling softly when she saw Buffy, the Slayer's head resting on the table, her face soft with sleep.
Tara stepped forward, gently touching Buffy's shoulder. The Slayer jerked awake, a rushed movement, the chair flying backwards, and Buffy leaping to her feet, prepared for any attack that could happen.
Tara stepped backwards, her hands in the air, her heart racing at the potentially volatile situation she could have put herself in. She watched as Buffy visibly settled, her eyes softening as recognition set in.
"Sorry," Buffy murmured, her hands relaxing from the fists that had automatically formed.
"S'okay. I should know better than to wake you like that," Tara replied quietly.
Buffy rubbed at her eyes and glanced at the wall clock on the other side of the room. She winced as she realised how early it was. She'd need to be up in another four or so hours to get Dawn off to school on time.
"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Buffy asked.
"I could say the same for you," Tara replied.
Buffy shrugged, wincing a little as it pulled an aching muscle. Her lower back was a mass of agony, and she could feel the bruises forming. She'd been thrown backwards into a headstone, and it had shattered beneath the force of the throw. She hadn't been able to make her way up the stairs, and sleeping on the couch had been a painful experience she hadn't wanted to repeat. She'd popped a few Tylenol and settled in at the kitchen table. She hadn't even been aware of falling asleep, but apparently she had.
"You okay?" Tara asked.
Buffy sighed, knowing that there was very little point in lying to Tara.
"Took a pretty heavy beating on patrol," Buffy explained. "Some vamp decided to introduce me to a headstone."
Tara winced in sympathy and stepped forward. "Can I see?"
Buffy sighed and spun around, lifting the hem of her shirt at the back to allow Tara to see the deep scrapes and the quickly darkening area in the centre of her lower back.
"Looks painful," Tara murmured.
"Feels it too."
"You should go soak in the tub," Tara suggested.
Buffy sighed, the thought of it sounding like heaven to her tired body.
"Couldn't make it up the stairs," she confessed.
Tara paused, taking in the admission, knowing that the Slayer probably wasn't too happy to admit her weakness, especially when things were still so undefined between them. Tara, however, wasn't about to let Buffy's pride get in the way of anything.
"C'mon," she prompted, gently leading Buffy out of the kitchen and towards the staircase.
"No, Tare, I'll be fine," Buffy said, the nickname falling out of tired lips.
Tara smiled at the moniker and gently pushed on Buffy's upper back to keep her walking. Buffy kept resisting until Tara stepped around to face the Slayer, their eyes meeting, a silent challenge in the witches gaze. Buffy finally sighed, knowing there was no real reason for her to be so argumentative.
"Good choice," Tara praised softly.
She helped the Slayer up the stairs and into the bathroom. She closed the door so as not to wake the other girls down the hall, and ran the bath, adding a few herbal remedies to help with the Slayer's naturally quick healing. She tested the temperature of the water, satisfied that it wasn't too hot. She turned to see the Slayer leaning on the sink, her eyelids drooping.
"You okay to get undressed?" Tara murmured, her voice soft and barely audible.
Buffy nodded absently, her fingers fumbling with the button of her jeans, her shaky hands clumsy and unable to properly undo the fixture. Tara stepped forward, her hands covering Buffy's fingers. She propped a finger from her other hand under Buffy's chin, tilting the Slayer's head up to meet her gaze.
"Let me?" Tara whispered softly.
The witch was suddenly incredibly aware of just how much sizzled between them, the rarely spoken about attraction, affection and respect that they danced around. But now, in the dark of the night with nothing stopping them except their nerves, Tara was very aware of just how she could potentially feel about the woman in front of her.
Buffy swallowed hard, her heart pounding furiously. She hadn't felt this nervous in a long time. She'd never really been shy about who she was, or what she felt, but things with Tara had been different from the start. This was the moment that she'd been waiting for, when things between herself and Tara would either fizzle and die down, or explode in a cascading effect. And considering the way her heart was threatening to jump out of her chest, she was fairly certain that nothing was about to fizzle down any time soon.
She lowered her hand, allowing Tara free reign, the two of them staring at each other, their breathing heavy, both of them knowing that this was the point of no return. They'd waited two months since Tara's official moment of letting Willow go. They'd had chance encounters of breathless moments, but they'd always pulled back, wanting to give it some more time. Eight weeks on, and things had finally come to a head.
Tara reached forward, deftly unbuttoning Buffy's jeans, the sound of the zipper being pulled down sounded almost deafening in the otherwise quiet bathroom. Tara knelt, gently tugging the jeans from Buffy's legs and encouraging her to step out of them.
Tara looked up at the Slayer, taking in the petite curves of the figure of the woman in front of her, noticing the faint trembling in the Slayer's body, and the tightly coiled tension beneath the surface. With a daring she rarely felt, Tara ran her hand up a smooth calf, up shapely thighs and rested her open palm on the Slayer's backside, relishing in Buffy's loud gulp.
Their eyes locked once more, and Buffy nodded her permission, allowing Tara to pull her panties down. Buffy placed her hands on Tara's shoulders, keeping her balance as she stepped out of the skimpy material, and stood before Tara, feeling strangely safe even in her half-exposed state.
Tara stood slowly, her hands drifting to the hem of Buffy's top. After another nod from the Slayer, Tara carefully lifted the shirt up over Buffy's head, wincing in sympathy when she heard the Slayer's sharp hiss of pain when the muscles in her back pulled at the movement.
The Wiccan realised that her breathing would need to slow down a notch if she didn't want to pass out from asphyxiation. She bit her lip, trying to keep her eyes locked on the Slayer's face, rather than at the amount of exposed flesh that she hadn't even realised she'd wanted to view so badly. Her hands skimmed over the silky flesh of Buffy's hips, her fingers tracing a map over the gentle curves.
"Okay?" she asked softly.
"Mmmhmm," Buffy murmured, her own hands reaching out to touch Tara, the temptation to reciprocate the gesture too overwhelming.
They continued standing there, a stalemate of sorts, hands softly caressing, careful to remain within unspoken boundaries, careful not to rock an undefined relationship.
"Water's gettin' cold," Buffy murmured.
With shaking hands, Tara reached up and undid the clasp of Buffy's bra, letting it fall to the floor. She gazed at the Slayer, swallowing hard as she took in the muscles, the curves and the understated strength that the woman had.
She held onto Buffy's hand, helping her stay balanced as she climbed over the edge of the tub and sank into the still warm water, settling into the depths of the bubbles, and hiding perfectly rounded breasts. Tara sighed, half in disappointment, and half in relief.
She allowed a moment for the Slayer to adjust to the temperature of the water before she grabbed a soft sponge and lathered it with soap. Buffy tensed slightly, not certain what to expect. This wasn't something that she'd done with any of her previous lovers.
And with that thought alone, Buffy's brain froze entirely. Lovers.
She and Tara may not have been there yet, but that was what the last few months had been building towards. She and Tara were going to be lovers. She knew that she wouldn't normally even think about doing what was she contemplating doing. But she was tired, and the painkillers were making her slightly dopey. Her Slayer side hated being tired, and tried to compensate by being courageous.
"S'a big tub," Buffy whispered. Yup, lots of courage.
Tara's eyes widened, wondering if she wasn't just wishfully hearing an implied invitation.
"Wanna share?"
Dry-mouthed and too stunned to even try denying that she desperately wanted to share such an intimate act with this woman, Tara slowly discarded her boxer shorts and tank top, thankful that she hadn't bothered with undergarments while trying to sleep. She didn't want to have too many layers to discard and chicken out in the mean time.
"You sure?" Tara asked, not wanting to push anything in this fragile moment.
Buffy nodded, scooting forward in the water, allowing Tara to step in behind her. Buffy slowly settled herself back, adjusting her weight so that the bruising on her back wasn't being aggravated, she leant back against Tara, their hands tangling in front of Buffy, the warmth of the water uncoiling a great deal of the tension.
Unable to help herself, Tara bent forward and pressed a soft kiss to the Slayer's shoulder, tasting the salty skin, enjoying the fact that she didn't have to control her impulse to touch Buffy anymore. The only problem now was that she didn't know if she could go back to just being friends after this. She couldn't hide her feelings for Buffy after being allowed to express them. She wouldn't be able to keep her hands to herself now that she'd had the opportunity to let her hands memorise soft skin.
Tara revelled in the soft moan that rumbled through the Slayer's throat as she continued to press kisses to Buffy's soft skin. Tara felt her heart beat go into overdrive as Buffy tilted her head to allow the Wiccan easier access to her neck, and Tara took the offering for what it was, gently nipping and licking at Buffy's nape.
Buffy's hand lifted out of the water and curved around to the back of Tara's head, threading her fingers gently in Tara's hair and pressing the Wiccan closer.
"Tare…"
Tara smiled at the nickname and at the tone of Buffy's voice, soft and needy.
The Slayer shifted, turning her head and capturing Tara's lips, their mouths meeting in a gentle caress, both of them delighting in the sweetness of finally being able to take what they'd been wanting for months. It seemed that the build-up towards this had made the culmination of their desires even more potent.
They broke apart after several breathless moments, Buffy's fingers gently massaging Tara's scalp, as Tara's hands brushed gentle strokes along Buffy's ribcage.
Buffy suddenly laughed a little and leant her head back on Tara's shoulder, her eyes closed, a grin on her face. It had been far too long since she'd felt like this, and she was unable to believe that it was Tara who was making her feel this way.
"You're beautiful, you know," Tara confessed. "When you smile like that."
They stayed wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying the feeling of being so close. As the water began cooling, Tara shifted and helped the Slayer out of the tub. She grabbed a towel and slowly dried Buffy's skin, enjoying the fact that she could finally look her fill, without worrying about whether it was the right time or not. She helped Buffy into some lose fitting pyjamas and then escorted the Slayer back to her room.
Buffy slid beneath the covers of her bed, her body exhausted from the aches and pains it was trying to heal. She knew that she would be asleep within minutes, but the thought of sleeping alone had very little appeal.
A hand snaked out to grab Tara's wrist, her grip gentle. "Stay?"
Tara didn't even think of denying her the request, and within moments, the Slayer and the Wiccan were cuddled up next to each other, and sleeping the sleep of the deeply content.