A/N: I'm not a big fan of overusing flashbacks, mostly more of a dreams kinda writer. But this one does have a back flashing flashback, just to let you know.
:: Chapter 7: The Mundane ::
Tara's eyes were lost in the hypnotizing spirals of brown and creamy white that were swirling in front of her. Her fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, making complex patterns with the teaspoon until the swirls of brown and white mixed into a uniform color. At which point her other hand would mechanically pour in more creamer, anxious to return to the dancing colors in her coffee mug.
She felt a hesitant touch block the recent trek of her hand, the Coffeemate held in place above her cup, tilted just a few degrees short of spilling into the abomination she had created. "Um, Tara?" It was Dawn, Tara realized. And for a few seconds she could do nothing but blink as her eyes shifted away from the light brown liquid in her cup, now so close to overflowing, and turned to take in the kitchen she had been sitting in. Her butt hurt, she realized, like she'd been sitting at the kitchen island for an eternity, and her neck was more than a little stiff from her stillness. The hand holding up the creamer started to shake lightly, and Dawnie reached up to ease it back down on the island, regarding her with caring eyes and a concerned smile when Tara finally turned to face her. "I think you ended up making coffee-flavored milk rather than coffee-flavored, um, coffee…" Dawn tried to grin at her, taking the creamer from her hands and stowing it back on the kitchen counter.
Tara blinked again for good measure before turning to her cup in mild horror. "Goddess," She gasped, pulling away from the spoon in her grasp like it was hot enough to burn, shaking her head in confusion as her mind made its way back to reality, "I-I didn't realize… I must have zoned off." She whispered, regarding the milky mess in her cup and turning to Dawn with an apologetic frown, "Do we have enough coffee for another cup, I know I forgot to get some…" She hastily moved to head towards the cupboard that housed their coffee mixes, sighing when she found them empty save for Buffy's morning cup. "Goddess, I'll just have to make Xander some tea." Tara muttered, biting at her thumb nervously. She was blushing at the realization that she'd probably made herself look like an idiot, spending who knows how long working on a cup that the carpenter had only accepted at her request. She nearly jumped when she felt a touch at her shoulder, relaxing as she turned to see Dawnie's smiling eyes.
"Xander kinda took off," Dawn explained sheepishly, "But don't worry!" She grinned cheerfully, obviously trying to wipe the guilty look off the older woman's face, "I'm sure the coffee's just un-coffee enough for Buffy to let me have some in the morning." Tara couldn't help but smile as Dawn maneuvered to carefully fit the cup into the fridge, a commendable endeavor with how close to spilling it already was, "I-It can be like my morning glass of milk," She continued, starting to grow excited by the idea herself, "except technically not milk… b-but better than milk! Cause the creamer tastes pretty good…" She trailed, looking more than a little guilty at the admission of liking the Coffeemate, and Tara let out a chuckle at the uncharacteristic nervous babble she had seemed to inherit from a certain redhead, even as her heart freshly ached at the comparison.
"You've been sneaking in extra sips from the creamer haven't you?" Tara asked knowingly with a teasingly stern voice, not able to keep a small smile from coloring her lips as she recovered from the earlier episode, "Don't think I don't notice you sneaking a spoonful into your milk in the mornings…" She grinned with a raised brow, and Dawnie just blushed in response, giving a sheepish grin back when she realized she wasn't being reprimanded by her closest friend. "And what do you mean Xander took off?" Tara asked after a few seconds of silence, frowning in confusion as she glanced outside the kitchen window, "It's almost nighttime!" She exclaimed in surprise.
"He'll be fine," Dawn assured her, though there was some doubt in her voice, "Buffy's with him. He said he needed to pick up some clothes or something. I think he's running out of socks…" Dawn trailed with a thoughtful frown, "Or maybe other things…" She shrugged with a smile, "You know how he is with laundry."
"I'm starting to," Tara admitted with a smile of her own, leaning back against the kitchen counter. It had been a bit over a week since the fellow Scooby had settled himself into their house, taking claim to the living room couch and some of the closet space in the storage room, and his peculiar laundry habits, or lack thereof, would have been hard to miss. Thankfully, Tara mused, it hadn't quite begun to feel crowded yet in the Summers house, save for the few days Mr. Giles stayed with them when he had first arrived. After all, they had lost one to gain one…
Tara's eyes drifted out of the kitchen window again as she watched the twilight fade into darkness, her betraying mind wandering to thoughts that she still had trouble escaping. The brunette wondered where her lover was at that moment. She wasn't nearly brave enough to imagine what she was doing, knowing the answer was probably not for the faint of heart, but she couldn't help the thoughts of red hair and beautiful, emerald eyes. And those soft hands that had cupped her cheek so delicately before…
"You wanna watch a movie?" Dawn suddenly asked, breaking Tara out of her trance. As she turned towards her younger friend, she felt a tear fall that had been slowly building up during her pensive musing. She attempted a smile and wiped the moisture away as inconspicuously as she could, but the sadness in Dawn's smile proved that she had seen it long before Tara herself had felt its presence.
"Sure you don't have homework?" Tara asked, knowing it was nearing exam season for the young student, but even to her the words sounded less like a serious question and more like a silent plea for companionship. She smiled when Dawnie shook her head, and encouraged her to go pick a movie for the two of them. But when Dawn moved, it wasn't in the direction of the living room. Instead the smaller girl inching towards Tara, her smile slowly sliding off as she engulfed the witch in a tight embrace. Tara gasped at the suddenness of the contact, but only took a second to hug back, clutching at the girl desperately as she held back her tears. Tara had learned it was easier to contain them like this, with someone she loved holding her in their arms, though in this case she was more so holding Dawnie in hers. She let only a soft gasp of grief escape, fighting against the pain she had seen the others slowly rise above; pain that still brew as intensely as ever in her chest. And in Dawnie's… Tara realized as the shorter girl refused to weaken her grip even after Tara had indicated her readiness to let go. She caressed her fingers lovingly through Dawn's hair, feeling a mother's compassion for the teenager, not for the first time in their friendship. Even as her own grief threatened to cave in on her heart, she knew if she could sweep up the other girl's pain and take it as her own, she would do it in a second.
Another ten minutes, half of which were spent locked in embrace, saw Tara snugly seated on the couch, a blanket draped half over her as she waited for Dawnie to decide on a movie and claim her place under the other half. They eventually settled on an X-men movie, one of Xander's favorites that she recalled seeing previously on an uneventful night, as Dawnie was mindful to avoid anything in Willow's prized collection. Tara was almost tempted to ask her to just plop in one of Willow's favorite romcoms, wanting to just rip the bandage off and spend the rest of the night letting out tears she had been allowing to fester in her attempt to stay strong. But this was better, Tara decided as the credits started, smiling as a head nestled against her shoulder. This was safe. This was what they needed now. Tara planted a light kiss on the younger girl's hair, and rested her head against it as well, her smile widening. They needed safe…
Tara was surprised by how much she was enjoying the movie, knowing when they had settled in for the group-hang-time that it was a genre she typically didn't enjoy. But, to be honest, she knew she could even watch a foreign movie without subtitles and find it interesting if she had a certain redhead curled up against her as she did now. Tara turned to her lover now as another action-y scene started, hypnotized by those green eyes flickering between characters as the other girl attempted to follow the action. She couldn't help but grin as the redhead's facial muscles twitched into the slightest frown of concern as her favorite character no doubt took a hit. Yes, Tara decided, she could definitely get used to watching this movie…
The redhead's gaze shifted to hers as Tara moved to make herself more comfortable in her new favorite pastime. Willow smiled curiously as she watched the eyes trained intently on hers, "What're you looking at?" She asked in a whisper, inching closer as she did so, as if trying to shield the rest of the Scoobies from the distraction. Tara decided she would probably like their next movie to be in a similarly crowded spot if this was the reaction it was going to produce.
"Hmmm…" Tara mused with a wide smile, "A very pretty girl…" She whispered back, leaning in to nuzzle her nose against the redhead's for effect, sighing softly at the intimacy of the lightest touch. She blushed lightly at the public nature of the exchange, but the brilliant smile it produced on her lover made it all more than worth it.
"Oh, I got demoted, huh?" Willow grinned mischievously, raising a brow in fake indignance, "I'm pretty sure last night I was classified as being 'gorgeous'…"
"Sweetie," Tara chuckled, her blush brightening at the memories her lover was triggering, "You'll never be demoted from being anything but 'positively sexy'." She whispered the last words a bit nervously, unable to keep traces of her demure nature from resurfacing, even as she felt more confident than she ever had earlier in her life. She was pleased to see the light blush she had produced on Willow's cheeks, and her heart quickened as her lover's lips curled upwards in a smile that was less innocent.
"Mmmm, and don't you forget it, mister…" Willow whispered as she leaned upwards to catch her lover's lips. Tara was happy to oblige, having been drawn to those rosy lips for the last hour of their movie night. She had even taken longer than necessary in refilling their popcorn, hoping the redhead would follow her to the kitchen and sedate her growing need. It had been almost a month since they had reunited, but Tara felt like even a year of passion would never be enough to fill the emptiness she had felt in their months apart…
"Alright, tongue wrestlers, knock it off!" A sudden irritated yell exclaimed, succeeding in their attempt to break the lovers apart, though not without considerable reluctance. Willow turned to raise an annoyed brow to the interrupter, who had turned out to be none other than Anya, and Tara only blushed a deeper shade at the attention they had unwittingly managed to receive. "What? I'm just concerned for the state of Xander's eye sockets!" Anya defended, much to the chagrin of the carpenter, who turned an interesting shade of pink and rushed to deny any such accusation, eager to remind them of his respect for his best friends' privacy. "Yeah right," Anya snorted, and Tara was more than a little surprised at the vengeance demon's apparent display of jealousy, seeing as the two were still on less than stellar terms, "Your mouth was about 3cm wider than it was when you saw that strange blue demon lady in the movie!" Anya huffed, and Tara struggled to recall the character she was referencing, landing on a name along the lines of Mystic or Mystique…
Willow chuckled beside her, thoroughly enjoying the carpenter's wordlessness, and Tara was more than tempted to tease the redhead back. "I don't think you were too innocent on that count either, pretty girl." She raised a brow in feigned insult, watching in amusement as the smile quickly faded from her lover's lips, replaced by the look of a baby caught with a hand in the cookie jar. "I think your eyes were a bit south in that scene…" Willow joined her oldest friend in the hot color of her cheeks, which looked unbelievable adorable to Tara when coupled with the fiery red of her hair. "Do I need to invest in some body paint to keep you satisfied?" She teased some more.
"Wha– No! I mean, I wasn't– I mean, I was, but I wasn't– Though to be honest…" Willow's eyes trailed off and partially glazed over as a small smirk crawled onto her lips, no doubt contemplating the results of Tara attempting to copy the mentioned character. She immediately shook herself back into her babbling state, growing more and more nervous with every word, "Uh, No. That's not what I mean either. You don't need to– I mean, not that it would matter if you did! I'd love you even if you were a weird scaly demon. N-Not that you are! I mean, of course you aren't. You're human, and beautiful, and amazing, and that's fine! I-I don't mean fine like fine, I just mean…" With her eyes the size of saucers and her cheeks redder than Tara could ever remember, she turned towards the others, urging them to pull her out of her less-than-helpful babble, "Xander, this is the part where you help." She hissed at her laughing friend.
Tara struggled to contain her own laughter at the exasperated look her lover wore, and let out a few betraying chuckles, signaling the redhead in on the scam. "You vixen!" Willow exclaimed with a grin bright enough to light up the dark living room. She didn't waste a second in closing the gap that had formed between the two lovers during her extensive babble, and for a second Tara feared she would be subjected to the punishment of tickles. But instead the redhead just curled up to her like before, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "Oh, I'm gonna get you for that one!" She promised hotly, causing Tara's heart to increase its pace once again, "Preferably with some chocolatey goodness of the body paint variety…"
Tara was good at hiding the tears. That part wasn't so hard. The darkness of the living room, dimmed to create a home theatre-y vibe, and the distracted teenager beside her only made it easier. The tears were easy. But as the movie went on, and Tara's mind wandered to edible body paints and long, sticky nights, she found she couldn't quite control the quickening breaths that usually signaled her sobs. She focused on the images before her, made herself picture where the pixels lay on the TV screen, but the lid on an unopened box of memories had now been opened, and there was no going back. She realized with her first sob, that even the most uneventful nights of the past had turned miraculous now, even the most mundane experience made painfully beautiful. All because she had spent those moments in the loving warmth of a woman she could never hold again…
She realized she had let go almost a minute after the sobs had already started, long after Dawn had smothered her in her embrace, eventually joining her with her own tears. The movie lay unwatched, and Tara felt her body shake through the embrace with the force of almost painful sobs. A distant part of her, some fragment of her brain that somehow still functioned despite the pain, was glad they had avoided Willow's movies, when even a neutral one made her feel like she could die in Dawnie's arms. She didn't know how long they lay there as one memory after another trailed its way under Tara's eyelids, replaying the last few months of bliss that she would never experience again. When the pain next ebbed enough to allow her to think, she found that the tears in the teenager's eyes had seemed to drain, and Dawn was now just holding Tara onto herself, humming to her reassuredly and trying her best to ease her pain.
"Dawnie…" Tara whispered, her voice breaking despite her attempts to keep it steady. The teenager only continued humming, assuming that Tara was only mumbling in her outburst of grief. Tara forced her limbs to obey her as she pushed Dawn away from her the slightest, her heart aching as she look into the girl's bloodshot eyes. "Goddess, Dawnie…" She whispered, wanting nothing but to sink into the embrace once more, "I'm the one who should be comforting you…"
Dawn managed a small smile in response, and Tara moved to wipe the remnants of tears on the girl's cheek, running a hand through long hair. "You are. You do." Dawn reassured her with her teary smile, "Just by being here…" She inched closer to bury herself halfway into Tara's neck, this time in seek of comfort. Tara wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulder, slipping into their previous position, even as silent tears continued their trek down her cheeks. "It reminds me that… That I'm not the only one who misses her." Dawn whispered, so low as if she feared the walls might hear. Tara squeezed her shoulder, and reminded her that they all missed the redhead more than they could bear. "But, Xander and Buffy…" Dawn started with a frown, an angry edge clear in her voice beyond the sadness, "They're both acting like, like it doesn't even matter that she's–" The girl's voice broke at that, and she closed her eyes as she struggled to continued, "And that all that matters is making her go away for real…"
Tara's heart broke listening to the words, seeing her own loneliness in grief reflected in the younger Summers girl. She would be blind not to feel it too. Buffy, Xander, Giles… all focused exclusively on the threat brought to them by the emergence of a new powerful vampire. She was glad for them. Glad that they could focus on the danger to drown away the pain, to feel okay. But Tara didn't have that luxury. She need only open her eyes to find something, anything, that reminded her of the love of her life. She was stuck here, in this house, in her room which was not truly hers. Stuck with her pain and grief and the torture of sweet memories. Stuck with nowhere to let it out, but a foreign pillow in the late hours of the night, or against the shoulder of a Scooby on the rare occurrence she let her guard down. But even that had been taken away from her. She could see how uncomfortable her tears made them, how much harder it made it for them to ignore their own pain, the hesitance that came with comforting hugs, the guardedness that came with their words. They had closed the door on their grief, taken off to where she couldn't follow. She was left alone with the pain. And so was Dawn.
"Dawnie," Tara tried to reassure the girl, collecting her into an embrace, "Buffy's just trying to protect us, Dawnie..." She whispered the words that had become her mantra, willing her mind not to stray to thoughts of what she was protecting them from. "This is hard for her too." She assured the girl who was now shaking her head violently in the embrace. "She loves us." Tara whispered, her voice breaking, "She loved Willow…"
"But we don't need to be protected…" Dawn argued in a small, hopeful voice. "It-It's Willow. We-We've done this before, right?" The girl pulled back from the embrace, and pleading doe-eyes stared up at Tara, almost triggering a new wave of sobs with their innocence and hope. "We can help her. I know we can..." Dawn whispered, almost trying to convince herself as much as Tara. And then in a soft whisper that couldn't help but crack near the end, "I still love her…"
"Goddess, I know Dawnie," Tara murmured against the girl's hair, capturing her in another embrace, gently rocking them back and forth, trying to steal some comfort of her own from the sweet girl in her arms. "Me too… So much." She whispered hoarsely, "So much I can't breathe, Dawn." Tara felt a sob making its way up her body, but urged it to stay down, knowing that if she didn't utter the words now, she never would. "But she's gone…" She murmured, her voice something between a cry and moan, coated in agony. She breathed labored breaths, forcing herself to resist the urge to bang her head against a wall in search of unconsciousness. "She's gone…" She whispered, losing her voice somewhere along the way, so that even while her lips moved, the words never quite reached her ears.
"She's not. She's not." Dawn insisted even as her own sobs worsened, pleading in a voice that far more resembled that of a 10-year-old than a 16-year-old. She didn't fight back against the embrace any longer, seemingly having given up on continuing her painfully futile argument. "She's still here…" Dawn murmured, pleading the Goddess for mercy.
"If she was, then why are we crying for her, Dawnie?" Was all Tara could say before the sobs finally tightened their hold on her once more.
Tara held her breath for a few seconds, making sure the rhythmic exhales she heard in the darkness resembled the slow, relaxed breathing of deep sleep. Once satisfied, she carefully pried herself out of the grip of Dawn's cuddle, smiling as she heard soft moans of protest from the younger girl. For a few seconds, she just sat at the edge of the girl's bed and stared at her, vowing to erase the pain she had neglected to see till now. Tara lightly stoked a few strands of hair off the resting face, and left a small kiss of goodnight on her forehead, hoping the teenager wouldn't be too upset with her for leaving for the warmth of her own bed after cuddling and crying her to sleep. She made sure to tuck the covers around Dawnie before she left, lifting the edge away from where it had engulfed one of her feet, something Dawn always complained made her feel like she was "suffocating". Tara shook her head with a content sigh as she took in the sight of the blissfully sleeping girl, still not quite understanding how having your feet covered while you slept could contribute to suffocation.
Tara closed the door behind her carefully as she left, being quite practiced in this entire endeavor after many nights of tucking the girl to sleep in the summer after her sister's passing. As her mind continued to linger on those torturous weeks before the funeral almost a year ago, she nearly yelped as she bumped into an unfamiliar figure on the way to her bedroom, instinctively readying herself with a protection spell. The words had just barely touched the witch's lips as she heard the flick of the light switch, and saw the apologetic face of the woman that had just been occupying her thoughts.
"God, Tara, I'm sorry." Buffy whispered, trying not to make a ruckus so close to Dawn's room, "I thought you two were asleep," She smiled sheepishly, "I-I was just a bit distracted, sorry. I should've sensed you there…" The blonde let out a long, frustrated sigh, beckoning Tara further down the hall so as not to disturb the only sleeping person in the house.
"She is," Tara answered once they were clear of the risk of waking Dawn. She smiled tiredly at the slayer, noticing the gear that adorned her figure. "Patrol?" She asked, and was answered by an equally tired smile.
"I needed to take my mind off… things." Buffy said cagily, not quite looking Tara in the eyes. Her gaze returned after a second, and she attempted to shake off any evidence of her curious behavior, "But, yeah, patrol." The Slayer smiled, "You guys have an okay night?" She asked lightly, her smile dimming the slightest as she looked at the witch more clearly, "Tara… you alright?" She asked again in a lower whisper, no doubt noticing the redness that lined Tara's eyes.
"Yeah, it was a good night." Was all Tara answered with, her smile not quite making it to her eyes, "W-We watched a movie." She offered, relaxing as the answer produced a wider smile from her friend. Buffy asked again if she was okay, moving closer to squeeze her forearm as she looked at her with concerned eyes. For a second Tara wanted to explain how far she had been from okay just a few hours ago, how hard it had been to pull herself back to any semblance of okay. Or whatever mask of okay she currently was wearing, anyway. But a glance at the stake held lightly in the Slayer's other hand quickly pulled her out of that fantasy. This was Buffy; Buffy had things to do. She didn't have time for this... "I-It was X-men." Tara whispered, as if that could answer Buffy's question. But how could it? To anyone but her, any time before tonight, it had been nothing but a normal movie, tied to memories of nothing but a mundane and normal night… "Um, one of them, at least. I think there are a few…" Tara continued anyway, pulling her hand away from Buffy's grasp and hugging herself lightly. The Slayer frowned at her, saddened by the apparent rejection and too tired to hide it.
"Tara…" Buffy persisted, not fooled by her friend's avoiding eyes, "I think there was more than just a movie going on…" She probed with a concerned frown, moving ever closer to her friend as if readying to take her into an embrace.
"What about you guys?" Tara asked instead, not at all ready for another outpouring of her grief so soon after the last. Her question worked in dissuading the Slayer, who immediately tensed at the words and retreated, sensing the turn in the conversation. "I think there was more than just clothes-getting going on too…" She pushed with a forced smile, now more than a little curious herself as to the reason for the pair's outing. The Slayer had made it more than clear that no one was to walk out after dusk if they could help it, a rule they had all agreed by without protest, not too keen on the emotional and physical pain that was bound to accompany running into a certain redhead. But it was far past dusk now, getting close to single-digit hours of the night, and an outing for socks and underwear was far from characteristic…
"No." Buffy persisted, though the guarded nature of her crossed arms more than gave her away, especially when coupled with her inability to look Tara in the eyes. "Xander was in serious need of some decent smelling socks..." She continued to bluff, faltering for a second when she met Tara's eyes and was greeted by nothing but skepticism. The witch had spent a good amount of time learning when the Slayer was hiding from her, or from everyone else, knowing that the hiding was always accompanied by a desperate need to unload. "We…" Buffy started with a defeated frown, still avoiding Tara's gaze as she seemed to choose her words carefully, "We did pay a visit along the way…" Was what she finally settled with.
"To?" Tara prodded, her frown now deepening as her mind ran wild with possibilities. Had they gone hunting for her? Had Xander been their bait? Had they found her? The thoughts spiraled into darkness as Tara began to contemplate what such an encounter could mean: if Xander was okay; if Willow was… Her breath got caught in her throat at the thought, and she felt a dangerous tenseness set into her body.
"No, no. Not–" Buffy stuttered with wide eyes, noticing the paleness that had stolen the color from Tara's face, "It was the Rosenbergs," She finally admitted, and Tara felt the anxiousness leave her body, before slowly creeping in again at the new revelation. "They're not hurt or anything; they're okay." The Slayer assured her, no doubt guessing where the witch's thoughts had trailed to. The blonde ducked her head a little to meet Tara's lowered gaze, offering her a small smile and a comforting hand on her shoulder. "They just wanted to talk." Buffy assured her, even as the careful guardedness of her words began to return, "They told us they were free tonight, and heading off for another something-or-other in the morning so…" She shrugged nonchalantly, but the hardness in her eyes betrayed that she was more than a little angered by the parents' apparent indifference on the matter. Buffy turned back to Tara with concerned eyes, her frown deepening as she no doubt began to regret even the tangential mention of the upcoming funeral arrangements. "I-I would've asked you to come, but…" But I probably would have magicked my body to overlap on itself while I curled up sobbing… Tara finished for her with a small, defeated smile. She couldn't hold it against her, she decided. She had just barely become capable of even thinking the word funeral without bursting into a fit of tears.
"No. No, that's okay." Tara assured with a halfhearted smile, "I-I don't even think Sheila remembers me…" She admitted with a whisper, the tone surprising her in its sadness, and the accompanying trembling of her lips. Tara couldn't help but remember when she had first met Willow's mom, so nervous that every word she uttered would no doubt be used against her to prove her unworthiness. But Sheila had hardly looked at Tara long enough to see much beyond her gender, more eager to prove the political and economic benefits of normalizing same-sex marriage, and how glad she was that her daughter was being brave in her political stance. By the end of the night, Tara desperately missed the harsh grilling she had been expecting from her girlfriend's mother. But it hadn't bothered her then. Then, she had just placated herself with the thought that there would be many more Hanukkahs and Thanksgivings in their future. Many more opportunities for Tara to speak up to the woman who had raised the love of her life, hopefully enough for her to remember Tara's name…
But that isn't quite true anymore, is it... Tara mused. Maybe that was what caused her to hug at her sides so desperately now, and take an inconspicuous deep breath to calm the trembling that worked its way up her body.
"Ira asked about you." Buffy helpfully supplied, shifting her weight between her feet, more than a little unsure of what to say to the slightly distraught witch. Tara couldn't help but smile at the mention of the man. She could imagine him now, his hard eyes refusing to betray his grief even as his hands lightly trembled and his body tensed. She could see his concerned frown as he thought of his daughter's girlfriend. That shy brunette whom he'd smiled at so many years ago, back when both witches were still blessed with so much of their innocence. The young, happy girl he had nodded at in approval after a long and heavy quiz about Jewish traditions…
"Is he going to be there?" Tara asked, recovering from the momentary lapse in her composure with thoughts of seeing the older man again. The man she had dreamed would one day be her father-in-law… "At the f-f-f-f–" Tara sighed as she stuttered, immediately giving up on uttering that horrible word, closing her eyes and clenching her jaw as she fought the rising sting in her nose.
"Yeah. They said they could make time." Buffy smiled, bringing her other hand to witch's shoulder as well, and soothingly rubbing the girl's arms as Tara pointlessly tried to compose herself. "Took some back and forth though…" She muttered once the silence had grown thick.
"When?" Tara whispered in question, assuming that Buffy's words meant there had been a decision on the date. Even as the words left her trembling lips she wasn't quite sure if she wanted to know, or just crawl under her covers instead.
"Tara…" Buffy whispered from nearby, and Tara realized the blonde had stepped closer, and was now rubbing at her arms more incessantly. She knew the Slayer was probably readying herself for the witch to give in to her tears again. "I think you should probably just sleep…" She urged, concern apparent in her eyes. Tara looked deeper into those eyes, and realized that the redness in them might be from more than just tiredness…
"Buffy." Tara nonetheless insisted, steeling herself to maintain her composure. If Buffy had been crying, then the last thing she needed was to be witness to Tara's tears long enough for her own to resurface.
Buffy sighed at her friend's stubbornness, whispering an answer Tara had not quite been ready for, "Thursday."
"Oh." Was all her lungs could breathe in response.
"I know." The Slayer whispered, her voice breaking the slightest as she closed her eyes tightly, probably saying the words for the first time since the decision. "It was that or next month…" She attempted to explain with a defeated sigh.
"That's…" Tara murmured, not trusting her voice to venture above the lightest whisper, "Soon." She croaked, closing her eyes as well as her mind automatically started a countdown to the mentioned date. 24 hours in a day; 7 days a week; less than a week till Thursday. Even all the hours in a year now seemed far too few to allow her to prepare herself for even looking at black dresses.
"It is." Buffy whispered, her hands leaving Tara's shoulder as she moved them to lightly hug herself as well. The scientific part of Tara, rubbed off from her late lover, couldn't help but regard the behavior curiously as Buffy took a small, shaky breath, and she corrected her earlier assessment. Buffy had closed the door, yes. And for most days she managed to keep it that way. But the key to that lock was one she always carried with her, Tara realized. Even now held clutched in her right hand as she hugged herself, ready to open the door once more if Buffy let it, and probably poking into her skin with small splinters.
The silence turned the air around them into thick honey, and Tara soon found she couldn't breathe.
The two friends parted without another word, the blonde heading downstairs, and the brunette returning to her own room with heavy steps. Tara closed her eyes and leaned on the door behind her as it closed, letting a soft sigh escape from dry lips, and taking in a few deep breaths to silence her emotion. She let her mind wander back to the date, willing herself to be okay with it. Thursday. She could do that. She could do Thursday. It was just a day. She had lived through a thousand Thursdays. Spent hours in cemeteries. Attended three funerals already, burying the people she loved. She could do another. She could do it.
Tara repeated the words in her head, and felt her hands begin to steady as she changed into her pajamas, her trembling lips gradually fixing themselves back into a tight line. She hadn't let out a tear so far, she realized with a small smile. That was something, at least. She hoped it would last long enough for her to fall asleep tonight, even though she often woke up with her head over a moist pillow case. The headaches always made it so much harder to fall sleep…
She had just pulled back the covers to her bed when a light rustling met her ears, and Tara tensed when she realized she had neglected to close the windows with the recent disruptions in her night routine. Every evening she had made sure to close those windows, made it a point to drape the curtains across, robbing her of the natural glow of moonlight in lieu of letting in a more dangerous darkness. Every night she had done so without letting her mind wander as to why. And the one time she hadn't…
The rustling made its presence known again, accompanied by a shadow blocking the moonlight, and Tara's heart leapt to her throat after a few seconds of waiting, as the shadow refused to give way to the light behind it. She kept her eyes fixed on where they rested on her hand, gripping the covers tightly enough to feel her own nails dig at her palm through them. More precious seconds of stillness passed, and when the temptation to look up grew too much too bare, Tara only closed her eyes. No. She wouldn't let this happen. Not today. She couldn't. She would wait. And she would open her eyes, and the shadow would be gone. A cat. Or a bird. Or an errant cloud. She would breathe quietly, look up, and it would have gone away. It had to. It had to because…
She's gone. The brunette whispered to herself in her mind. Gone. She's gone. That's not her. She's gone. Tara couldn't help but take in a shaky gasp as she heard familiar breathing from the shadow looming behind her window. Breathing that was far too human to satisfy her attempts at self-deception. Thursday. She continued desperately, There's a funeral on Thursday. Her funeral. She's gone. She's dead. There's a funeral, and she's dead…
But the figure only waited for her. Waited patiently like it had all the time in the world. Waited until she couldn't keep the silent tears from escaping. Waited until her legs shook underneath her, and her knuckles grew white from their death grip. Until her entire body trembled, and it hurt more to keep her eyes closed in the darkness than to look up. But as she finally gave up in her fight against her screaming heart, she realized that wasn't true at all. That none of the pain, from that night or from the week since their last meeting, nothing could compare to the striking agony that lay in wait for her when her eyes met emerald. A soft sound escaped her throat, somewhere between a wince of grief and a moan of yearning.
Willow just sat there, reclining casually on the windowsill outside the house, and smiled at her in a way that easily melted whatever remained of the brunette's heart. Her eyes, slowly becoming all of Tara's world, looked at her with nothing but aching concern and sadness for the tears that were now trailing down pale cheeks. And… love.
"Hi gorgeous…" The musical voice whispered tenderly, as if the words themselves were a soft caress against Tara's cheek, where her finger's couldn't reach. Willow's smile widened, seemingly content with just staring at the lover before her, and she sighed softly. "I missed you."
Me too... Tara's betraying mind silently answered back.
A/N: Okay, so apparently I lied about being done with interlude-y chapters... This was really just meant to be a small lead in into a more meaty encounter (which has now been pushed to Chapters 8 & 9), but it really just took a mind of its own there. I like how it turned out though, and it was more than a little necessary.
Also, I've totally secretly turned into a Dawn apologist somehow after hating her with a passion when I watched the show. That girl's jut precious and almost relatable sometimes, even though she makes the most annoyingly stupid teenage bullshit mistakes (looking at you, Potential, Blood Ties, and somewhat at OMWF and Older and Far Away. Oh! And Normal Again... AND Empty Places! God, why do I like her again?). Anyway, like I said before this was meant to be mostly Willow/Tara time, but hey, exploring characters. Yay!
So real quick wanted to satisfy my inner critic and say that I'm honestly very iffy about the way the last chapter (Ch6) turned out. I feel as though the bar scene might seem a bit jarring and pointless (the one line I wanted to include in it didn't even make the final cut), and the last scene is also jarring and confusing (though that one was jarring on purpose, but not sure if it was too much). Like I said, that chapter just gave me a headache of trouble, and I ended up just exhausted with the amount of editing and fix-upping that I had to do to make things remotely pretty (I only had a vague idea of a scattering of small scenes I wanted to include when I started. Tip, not a good way to plan) and my editing goggles were just coated with a thick layer of JUST GET IT DONE near the end... So, let me know if there was anything that seemed off in there, of if I'm just an insane person, and I'll try to fix it at some point (and let everyone know when I do, of course)
Also! For anyone still confused about the last scene in Ch6, aka Tito-gate (don't), it will get explored in a few chapters. I'm not leaving you hanging, an explanation is incoming as to what exactly made Will explode. It was meant to be this chapter, but I don't hate you guys enough to make you read 30k words straight...
As always, reviews are greatly appreciated! Let me know if you liked something or didn't, helps me improve and keeps me motivated.