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Guest – No problem, I'm super happy you liked it :)

"Willow…Willow dear!"

Willow walked across the small classroom to a little old lady sitting at one of the few computer desks. She was stout and frumpy, but had kind eyes with a twinkle behind them and wrinkles around them.

"Now I've typed the words I want to find like you showed me, but how do I make it 'go'?" she asked, taking her lesson on all things internet very seriously.

"Oh, that's easy, Mabel," Willow replied, showing her the enter key, "You just press this long one with the arrow and…there you go! All the results come up."

Mabel brought an arthritic hand up to pat Willow's arm.

"Thank you dear. You're a real mensch."

Willow waved it off with a bashful smile.

"Look, there's a bunch of options for that recipe you're looking for. This one is kosher. Want me to show you how to print?"

Willow had taken Tara's advice to put her computer skills to good use and volunteer with the elderly. She'd done some research online of ones close by so she would be able to walk, and found a Hebrew senior centre in the neighbourhood.

Thinking her Jewishness might give her an 'in', she'd exchanged a few emails with the centre manager and said she was interested in volunteering and relayed her skills. It had worked and she had been invited down to run a small computer class on a Friday afternoon to see if she fit in.

Surprisingly, she hadn't been all that nervous as the residents took to her straight away and were interested in what she had to say. She'd given a very basic lesson in email but it had been received well and the residents were pleased to have the opportunity to learn.

After the first one had gone successfully, she offered to make it a regular thing and her help in other areas. They'd taken her up on it and she now had a daily run of meals on wheels lunch time deliveries around the neighbourhood too – they'd even provided her with the bike and wagon to get around on.

It gave some structure to her day and let her have her 'Willow time' guilt free; she loved having down time to read, be on the internet, listen to music as well as getting things like laundry done and making some semblance of a tasty dinner for Tara. She felt better about herself from helping people and despite all her protests about school, she had to admit liking having an assignment of sorts in preparing her 'lesson plan'.

The clientele who frequented the centre were a nice mix of people, some quiet and some louder, like Mabel. Mabel with her loudness, talkativeness and overbearingness was almost a caricature of an older Jewish mother or grandmother, but Willow enjoyed her – she reminded her of a Bostonian version of her Bubbe.

Willow's fondness did retreat on occasion, as Mabel had taken a shine to her and was making gallant efforts to talk her around to dating her grandson. Willow, being the right age, a volunteer and most importantly, Jewish, was apparently absolutely perfect for him.

"Have I told you about my grandson?" Mabel asked Willow in a clucky mothering voice, "He's not a schmuck like some men you see around these days, and he has a very cute tuchis!"

"I'm, um, in a relationship," Willow repeated for the nth time.

"Oy vey iz mir," Mabel muttered under her breath, "All the good ones are taken. Are you sure?"

Willow just smiled awkwardly, nodded, clicked the print button as fast as she could and hurried off to help someone she'd 'heard' call her. A shyer man did catch her eye as she passed, and she was able to show him how to open picture attachments from his first new email of his grandchildren.

He covered her hand warmly when the pictures came up on screen and gave it a squeeze. He wasn't frail, but his demeanour was very delicate and even in the rare times he spoke, it was very soft.

Willow could see the gratitude in his eyes and smiled back. Those were the moments she loved, when she felt like she was making a difference. She knew what it was like to be ignored, and a lot of the people attending that centre were getting to the stage where they were starting to be ignored by their families and society.

Willow felt bittersweet about not having to worry about doing that to her own parents. She felt a pang when she wondered if she'd even be told when they died, but she had to put that out of her mind. She could help these people in the here and now and that would have to be enough.

The centre only had four computers, so she had enough time to give to every person who came in some attention, and there were different faces each week. Some needed to be shown the same thing each and every lesson, but Willow surprised herself with not getting frustrated.

Even the age-old, super slow computers didn't bother her; she just fell into the sedate pace of the centre. It actually gave her an excuse to shut her mind off for a little while.

Finally the last person shuffled off to their next activity and Willow shut down all the computers, tidied up the area and got her jacket on to leave. She passed by the lobby to sign out of the volunteer's book and as she set the pen back down, the centre manager rounded the corner from his office.

He was tall, very tall, about 30 and very sedate in his manner, like everything else in that place. He was quiet, calm, pleasant and easy-going. His eyes were the same colour as Tara's, which had endeared him to Willow and she always had a smile for him when they passed each other.

He approached, returning the smile, and leaned gently against the empty reception desk.

"Hey, Willow. I was coming to see how you got on."

Willow nodded jovially.

"Hi David. It went well. Did you know Mr. Blumenthal was a poet? I showed him how to write on Word, he had lots of fun working out the fonts and stuff."

"Ezra is our resident story-teller, so that doesn't surprise me," David replied with a kind smile, then straightened himself up and ran two fingers down the length of his tie, "So, weekend finally. Have you any plans tonight?"

"Oh yeah, I'm going to a friend's for dinner," Willow replied, hands closing around the list in her pocket with the things she needed to get for the salad they'd said they'd bring to Jack and Becky's.

David slicked back his messy brown hair, but it fell back into his eyes almost straight away.

"Maybe some other time when you're not so busy, I could take you out," he said, before finishing with a hopeful and slightly needy smile, "On a date. There's, ah, nothing in the rulebook to say we can't."

Willow's eyes widened and her voice stalled for a moment.

"…you're not Mabel's grandson, are you?"

David laughed.

"No, no. Not at all."

Willow's cheeks burned and she struggled to keep David's gaze.

"I'm really sorry, I'm seeing someone."

David just nodded, accepting it.

"Well we sure do appreciate your help. The elderly are the most forgotten about when it comes to those volunteering. People don't have the patience."

"Well, my girlfriend suggested it, so you can thank her," Willow replied automatically.

David smiled and threw his eyes up to heaven.

"Ah, okay, so I never had a chance."

"Sorry," Willow replied sheepishly.

"No problem, just don't go spreading my embarrassment around. These guys love gossiping," David replied good-naturedly, then lifted his hand in a wave, "See you around."

"Bye," Willow replied, returning the wave.

She stood there awkwardly for a moment, then when she realised he'd taken her brush-off without incident, she carried on and went home via the grocery store.

Tara had already done the 'hardest' part of the salad, made up a dressing, so Willow just chopped up the lettuce, tomato, cucumber and red onion, shredded some carrot and then crumbled some feta cheese on top. It was Tara's favourite salad and the one dish Willow had absolutely perfected because of its ease.

She covered it and left it in the fridge, then went off to shower and change. She was in a dress and was running a brush through her blow-dried hair when she heard the wiggle of the key and then the front door opening.

"Honey, I'm home."

Willow smiled; she knew Tara said that just because it amused her. She came out of the bedroom with a big smile on her face.

"Baby, you're the greatest," she quoted in return.

Tara dropped her purse on the table and came over to give Willow a hug.

"Hello, you," she said, pecking Willow's cheek, "I bought wine."

"Oh, I got beer," Willow replied, pointing her thumb in the direction of the fridge.

"We'll bring both," Tara reasoned, holding Willow gently by the arms, "You look just lovely. I'll go get changed."

She wandered into the bedroom and Willow followed, sitting with her feet up on the bed to chat.

"How was work?"

"Good," Tara answered, going over to the closet to decide what to wear, "We found two residential kids a foster home. The system is so overloaded, it's ridiculous."

She sighed and held a red dress against her body to see in the mirror.

"How was your day?"

Willow shrugged one shoulder.

"I got asked out today."

"By whom?" Tara asked without turning around.

"The senior centre manager," Willow answered.

Tara quirked an eyebrow through the mirror.

"He asked out a volunteer?"

Willow shrugged again.

"He said it's not against the rules."

"How enticing," Tara replied dryly, "What did you say?"

"I said I was seeing someone," Willow replied, offering her arms for Tara to drape her dress across.

Tara smirked, her eyes lifting on the same side her lips did.

"Oh, is that what we're doing? 'Seeing' each other?"

Willow grinned back.

"Well…I saw you this morning, and I see you right now and I'll see even more of you in a few seconds, so yeah!" she said with a giggle, "It was actually my second proposition of the day. That darn Mabel is determined to set me up with her grandson."

Tara leaned over and pressed a smouldering and somewhat possessive kiss on Willow's lips.

"You're just hot stuff."

She nipped at Willow's bottom lip, then proceeded to strip down to her underwear. Willow stood up when Tara slipped the dress over her head and helped her zip it up. Her fingertips brushed against the nape of Tara's neck, then she scooped her hair to one side and kissed the patch of skin where Tara's neck met her shoulder.

"It's flattering…" she said, sliding her other hand up Tara's thigh and bunching her dress up past her stomach, "But I only want to be hot for you."

Willow's fingers fluttered past the front of Tara's panties, making Tara's heart catch in her throat for a moment. Willow's hand fell away and Tara spent a minute composing herself until Willow returned and closed Tara's locket around her neck.

"You look beautiful," Willow said with a smile, then fixed the neck of Tara's dress so more cleavage was on show, "Make that yummy. Both. You're simply irresistible."

Tara smiled to herself. She could see Willow had gotten a little ego boost and was projecting it back. She didn't mind; she enjoyed being 'flattered' too. It wasn't an everyday occurrence, but she'd gotten a glance or two and a dance request or three in Paris. She'd always politely declined but it had boosted her confidence and contributed to the boldness that had emerged when they'd engaged in the hot cloakroom sex in the club.

She could see that same glint in Willow's eye as that night and knew she was probably in for an evening of teasing.

"Down, girl," she said, scooting some hair behind Willow's ear, "We have a dinner to get through."

Willow leaned in to whisper in Tara's ear.

"I'd love to get through your pussy. Actually I'd love to just stay in there."

Tara cleared her throat and she very gently pushed Willow away.

"You're being very naughty," she said in a mock-scolding tone, then grinned, "I'll have to spank you later."

"Do you promise?" Willow asked, eyes lighting up.

Tara pointed out the door towards the kitchen.

"Go drink a tall glass of water."

"I have a tall glass of water right here," Willow replied, eyeing Tara up and down before dropping to her knees, "And I'd be happy to drink you."

Her hands slid under Tara's dress to the back of her thighs. Tara felt her knees shake and reached out a hand to Willow's shoulder to steady herself. It was hard to resist Willow at the best of times, but having her on her knees was a huge temptation.

"I have to finish getting ready…please don't do this to me, you know I can't resist you."

Willow nuzzled her nose in against Tara's panties for several long seconds, then extradited herself and stood back up. She pressed a soft and very promising kiss against Tara's lips.

Tara almost melted on the spot and her mouth physically followed Willow when she pulled away. Willow put a finger against Tara's lips, shook her head, then sauntered off with a confident butt wiggle.

Tara watched her, as was intended, then went into the bathroom to cool off a little and put some make-up on.

When she came out, Willow was sitting on the sofa, flicking through a magazine. Willow looked up, less seductively but still with that look in her eye.

"Ready to go?" she asked, standing up and hooking her arm through the bag she'd put the salad, dressing and beers in, "I have everything but wine."

"I have the wine," Tara said, picking up her purse, "Are you going to be good?"

"Aren't I always?" Willow asked with a dazzling smile.

"Dangerous, more like," Tara muttered, then got her own back by pinching Willow's ass as she passed.

Willow jumped, eyes going wide, then smirked.

Game on.

They held hands as they walked to the T stop and it was just enough past rush hour for them to get seats. Willow rested the bag on her lap and held it firmly so it wouldn't fall. The train jerked into motion and Willow turned to get Tara's attention.

"I meant to talk to you about our phone contract. It's up at the end of the month."

"Can you renew it?" Tara asked, having to delegate anything like that to Willow's expertise.

Willow nodded.

"Yeah, just wanted to check with you that that's okay. Cost and stuff."

Tara pressed a sweet kiss to Willow's cheek.

"You have my implicit trust in all things technical. And in general."

"I can probably get us new phones," Willow said, already having her eye on the new iPhone, a considerable upgrade from her non-smart phone for a geek like her, though she wasn't sure she'd be able to snag one as a freebie on their contract and they didn't have any spare cash for things like that.

"Please don't," Tara replied, shaking her head, "I just got used to this one and it works perfectly."

"Only because you never use it," Willow replied with a grin.

Tara nodded.

"Exactly, so why get me a new one?"

"Okay, if that's what you want…" Willow replied, all the while sneaking her hand from behind the bag on her lap onto Tara's thigh.

Tara tugged the end of her dress down to dissuade her, but Willow's fingers continued to creep up the fabric.

"Willow!" Tara hissed quietly, physically taking Willow's hand away.

"You started it," Willow retorted quietly.

Tara pursed her lips, but that didn't deter Willow, in fact Tara's pouting, ruby-red lips just turned her on even more. She kept her hands still, but did sneak a few peeks down the front of Tara's dress, which didn't go unnoticed.

At one stage Tara reached up and covered Willow's eyes with her hand, but Willow just responded by nibbling the tip of Tara's fallen pinky. When they got to their stop and walked back onto the street, it had gotten dark, so Tara continued the little game by hooking her arm around Willow's waist and rubbing her hip, exactly on her panty line.

Willow closed her eyes momentarily and imagined Tara ripping those panties off. In those few seconds, she wandered a bit too close to the road and was beeped back onto the sidewalk.

Tara's hand immediately retracted and went around her shoulders protectively. Willow had to smile and leaned her head down against Tara's shoulder.

Becky and Jack's apartment was just three blocks from the T stop, in a large, very corporate high-rise. They'd been there a few times, but Willow always mixed up which number they were in. Luckily Tara had a memory like an elephant and was able to guide them up to the seventh floor and to the right door.

They knocked and moments later, Becky answered the door in a summery dress and with a smile on her face.

"Hi lovebirds."

"We have beer," Willow replied, holding the bag up to indicate.

"And wine," Tara added, producing the bottle from her purse.

Becky threw an arm around each of their shoulders and kicked the door closed behind them.

"I knew you guys were my besties for a reason."

"Hi ladies," Jack greeted warmly from the kitchen area of the open plan living space, "I hope you brought your appetites. Willow, you eat pork right?"

Willow nodded.

"Oh yeah, I'm not kosher."

"I told him I've seen you annihilate a plate of bacon," Becky said with a grin, nudging Willow in the side and making her blush.

Jack turned some meat on the gridiron and steam blew upwards.

"I'm serving dwaejibulgogi."

"Bless you," Willow replied, trying to wrap her brain around the word.

Jack laughed cheerfully.

"I know, it's a mouthful. We're having poutine on the side."

"I don't think I've ever eaten of those," Tara said, softly inhaling the spicy meat fumes as they danced her ways, "Looking forward to it."

"My mom is Korean and my dad is Canadian, so I like to mix and match my roots," Jack replied with a demure smile, "Some Asian Fusion. It's good, you'll like it. Like Korean barbeque and dressed fries."

"Jack is a fantastic cook," Becky gushed, taking the bottles from Willow and Tara and bringing them into the kitchen, "Wine or beer?"

Willow nodded towards the six pack.

"I'll have beer, thanks."

Jack took the bottle off of Becky to read the label.

"That's a nice bottle, Tara, thank you," he said warmly, "I'm going to have a glass right now."

"Oh, well I'll join you if you're opening it," Tara replied, taking a glass moments later when Jack pulled the cork, "Thank you."

They clinked their glasses together while Becky popped the caps the beer for her and Willow.

"Serving up in five," Jack advised, taking a slow but long gulp from his glass before getting right in to the burner to finish everything off.

Becky indicated for them to sit around the table, which was decorated simply but beautifully with clean silverware, napkin rings and long candles.

"Nice job on the table," Willow complimented as she took her seat.

"All Jack as well," Becky said with a loving look over her shoulder, "He really is amazing."

Though there was no official announcement of it, Tara's prediction that Becky was essentially moving in with no intention of finding her own place was evidently becoming true. The place had obvious decoration input from them both and not a word had been said about house hunting in the months since graduating.

Willow had only realised when Tara pointed it out to her later, but it was quite obvious then and she was happy to see her friend settling into post-college life well, too.

Jack served them each up a plate with grilled pork decorated with sliced onions, button mushrooms and chopped green peppers with the poutine – French fries, topped with a brown gravy and cheese curds – in a decorative basket on the plate alongside it.

Willow was slightly put off by the cheese curds, but kept her mouth shut when Tara looked at her sideways. Tara sliced some of the pork and her knife just glided through it. She put some in her mouth with some vegetables and it just melted, contrasting beautifully with the crunch of the bell pepper.

"This meat is so tender, Jack," she said when she swallowed, "Thank you for having us."

The two wine glasses and two beer bottles all clinked together again and everyone complimented Jack on the delicious food.

"How is work going, Tara?" Jack inquired across the table.

"Good," Tara replied pleasantly, "It's tough, but we help a lot of people and it outweighs the bad. What about you, last time we spoke you were just starting at your dad's accounting firm."

"Yes, nepotism is alive and well," Jack said with a laugh, "But he doesn't go easy on me. I like that though, the others in the office don't treat me like the boss's son either. It doesn't make a fire in my belly but it's not a bad job, really. And it gives me evenings and weekends."

"What about you, Beck?" Willow asked, "When does the teacher interviewing season start?"

"I've already sent résumés out and gotten a few call-backs," Becky replied, picking up a fry in her hand to eat it, "There's so many new graduates in the same position, but I'm hoping to get a middle school gig. Catch the kids between young brats and moody brats. Also, whose foot is that?"

Willow straightened up in her chair and cleared her throat and Tara shook her head in Willow's direction. Becky grinned but off a relenting look from Jack, didn't enflame Willow's cheeks any more.

"And you, Willow?" Jack asked, courteously changing the subject, "Are you pursuing grad school?"

Willow's eyes were on her plate and she shook her head. She'd been keeping quiet about that whole subject.

"No, actually."

"No?" Becky asked, surprised, "Since when? You haven't gotten a psych gig already have you?"

"No, I'm…checking out other avenues," Willow replied cagily, then quickly ate some of the poutine, "Hey, the cheese curds kinda threw me off, but this is delicious."

"I'll give you the recipe," Jack offered graciously.

"Better give it to Tara," Willow replied sheepishly, "Still working on the ole' culinary skills. I did make the salad though."

"And it's lovely," Tara complimented, discreetly taking Willow's hand under the table and giving it a squeeze.

Willow shot her a grateful look and squeezed back. The topic changed to a concert Jack and Becky had recently attended, then to Jack's newly born nephew and back to music and cooking.

"I made dessert," Becky announced as she stood up and took Jack's plate on top of her own.

"You did?" Willow asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, I bought it," Becky admitted with a grin, "Help me serve?"

Willow nodded and followed Becky into the kitchen with hers and Tara's plate. She rinsed them in the sink while Becky retrieved a chocolate cake from the fridge.

"So no grad school, huh?" Becky asked as she peeled away the packaging, "You always talked about needing to do a master's program at least to work in the field."

Willow shrugged a shoulder.

"I'm just working things out. It's not worth the debt, really."

"So what are you going to do?" Becky questioned, bringing down four small plates.

"I fill the time," Willow answered, handing Becky a knife when she pointed to the block beside her, "I've been volunteering. Do meals on wheels for a senior centre."

Becky snorted.

"They let you behind the wheel?"

"I aced Driver's Ed I'll have you know," Willow replied indignantly, "But I use a bike and wagon. It's only around the neighbourhood, but damn, I'm so out of shape. I was thinking of trying to get fit while I have this time figuring out career stuff."

Becky cut the first slice in a perfectly decadent prism.

"Join my gym. It's got good facilities."

Willow watched the gooey fudge topping pull away from the cake and her mouth began to water. It took her a second to register Becky had spoken.

"Oh, well…you know, with just Tara's income we don't have much money for things like that."

"I can get you a guest pass," Becky offered.

"You can?" Willow asked, intrigued.

"Sure," Becky nodded, "Just don't kill yourself."

Willow rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, Beck. I appreciate that," she said sarcastically, "So…seems like you're pretty comfortable here."

Becky put her hands on her hips.

"Can you believe we're graduated and living with our partners who have real, live jobs?" she asked, shuddering a tad, "It's scary."

"It's fun," Willow amended with a smile, "I love having a real home with her."

Becky glanced over to the TV area where Jack was setting up the DVD player, while Tara sat on the couch beside.

"I know the feeling," she said tenderly, then sighed and retrieved some dessert forks, "You squirt."

Willow's eyes almost bugged out of her head.

"What?!"

Becky paused for a moment to understand why Willow was looking at her like that, then physically hunched over with laughter.

"Oh man…oh man," she said, rubbing her chest to catch her breath, "The cream, Willow. The cream. Squirt the cream."

Willow spotted the bottle of whipped cream sitting alongside the cake and her cheeks flushed wildly. She grabbed it and squirted some onto the side of each plate before shoving it back in the fridge. Becky was still grinning from ear to ear as she picked up two of the plates.

"C'mon, Jack has been dying to show off his new short. It's about a lactose intolerant guy who inherits a dairy farm," she said, then continued off Willow's quizzical look, "He's branching out into comedy."

Willow took the other plates and brought them over to sit by Tara.

"Here you go, baby," she said, offering one of the plates.

Tara took it and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you."

Willow smiled back and got comfy as Jack lined up his new short to play for them. She avoiding Becky's mirthful grin, but her own lips did quirk at the thought of their exchange. Not least of all because it put some enjoyable images of Tara in her mind, but also because she appreciated the camaraderie.

She hoped her cheeks didn't give her away to Tara, because she knew Becky would jump on the teasing if it was brought up.

Evenings like this reminded her that there was so much more to life than career paths, schooling or vocational callings.

Friends, family and chocolate cake ranked much higher on the list.