jaiden83 – 6: Take Charge Tara takes what she wants – it's in the name! :P
7: I'm sorry I made you hungry! I'll buy you a burger next time :P
billy – Domesticity is oddly jealousy inducing!
jake – Thanks! It's definitely an interesting life shift to go from college to real life, and I'm happy to be able to see them through it!
FivebyFive89 – Damn I'm making everybody hungry!
gg – Thanks!
Willow watched Tara push her food around her plate without much enthusiasm, barely a bite having passed her lips.
"Are you okay, baby? You haven't touched your dinner."
She looked down at her own plate and frowned.
"It sucks doesn't it? I thought I mastered pasta, but I knew I got the sauce wrong. It's too tomato-y."
Tara blinked herself out of her stupor when she noticed Willow's mouth moving. She tried to get the words to register in her brain and caught a few, putting the rest together.
She hadn't realised she'd been in her own world, but Willow had finished her meal already and Tara barely remembered sitting down. She sat up and left her napkin in her plate, not before wiping it swiftly against her slightly clammy brow.
She cleared her throat and reached over to cover Willow's hand, squeezing it softly.
"It was really nice, honey. I just don't have much of an appetite."
"Is something wrong?" Willow asked, turning her hand in Tara's.
"I'm just a bit queasy," Tara admitted, "Maybe that yogurt I had for lunch was off."
"Baby," Willow replied sympathetically, "Tummy rub?"
Tara nodded gratefully and stood to bring her dishes into the kitchen. Willow put a hand on her wrist to stop her.
"Leave it, I'll do them later."
She linked their fingers and gently tugged Tara over to the couch. She sat down first, with her back against the arm rest and her legs swung up but bent apart. She encouraged Tara to lie between her legs and coaxed her girlfriend's head to rest on her chest.
She stroked the front strands of Tara's hair, then dropped one hand to slip softly under Tara's shirt to rub her stomach.
She handed Tara the remote, who flicked through some channels and they eventually settled in to watch a romantic comedy.
During the movie, a song played – 'The Book Of Love', a cover version sung by Peter Gabriel. It was sweet and romantic and made them both smile. Tara was half asleep, but she tickled the back of Willow's hand, which was still on her stomach but motionless.
"Love you, Willow."
"I love you," Willow echoed, kissing the top of Tara's head.
The movie ended and Tara really had fallen asleep. Willow tried to shift out with as little movement as possible to get her a blanket, but they were too entrenched with each other and she ended up waking her.
"Sorry, baby," Willow apologised softly, "C'mon, I'll take you to bed."
Tara rubbed her eyes and straightened up, feeling her stomach drop almost immediately with nausea. She lifted her hand to her mouth, and closed her eyes for a moment to let it wash over her and leave.
After a moment or two, she felt able to stand.
"Bed, baby," Willow encouraged.
Tara shook her head and started to woozily search for her phone.
"I-I need to text Becky and wish her good luck."
It was Becky's first classes in her new school the following day and Tara had been sending her regular encouragements to build up her confidence and lessen her nerves.
"I'll send one from both of us," Willow reassured while standing, "She'll be fine. She got into the school she wanted. She knows her English lit, that's for sure. You should rest. Do you feel any better?"
Tara didn't feel a whole lot better at all but didn't want Willow to think she hadn't appreciated her comforting.
"Mmhhm."
Willow gently squeezed Tara around the middle from behind, which made Tara's stomach lurch and sent her speeding towards the bathroom. Willow grimaced when she heard retching and hovered in the doorway, giving Tara some space.
"Honey? Are you okay?"
Tara's leg kicked out behind her and the door slammed in Willow's face. The sounds continued so Willow retreated into the bedroom and took out some of Tara's comfiest pyjamas. She turned the sheet down and fluffed the pillows. Tara appeared after a few minutes, pale. Willow smiled sympathetically.
"One lousy yogurt huh?"
She handed over the pyjamas and left for a minute, returning with a glass of water and bottle of Pepto-Bismol. She left the glass down and poured the thick, pink liquid onto the medicine spoon.
Tara slipped under the sheet and Willow held the spoon up to her mouth. When it was gone, she tucked Tara in and kissed her forehead. Tara turned her head up and nuzzled their noses.
"Thank you."
"'Welcome," Willow replied and kissed the corner of Tara's mouth, able to smell the toothpaste from the thorough brushing she'd obviously given her teeth, "Want me to hold you?"
Tara's eyes were sunken and vulnerable.
"You don't have to."
Willow just smiled and crawled in the other side, ditching her pants on the way so she was freer to curl around Tara.
"Dummy," she said affectionately as she gathered Tara in her arm, careful to avoid any pressure on her stomach, "I always want to hold you. I'm sorry you're feeling all blech-y."
Tara's eyes were already closed and her stomach was eased by the lack of motion.
"Better like this," she mumbled, feeling the comforting warmth of Willow cocooning her.
Willow flicked the light off and felt Tara's breath even off in just moments. She decided to leave the dishes for the morning and not risk waking Tara again.
She closed her eyes and fell asleep inhaling softly from Tara's neck.
Tara was startled awake from a deep, dizzying sleep by what sounded to her like a jackhammer, power saw and hand drill all getting into a fight.
Everything was hazy around her eyes and her pyjamas were stuck to her with cold, clammy sweat. She felt exhausted, even after sleeping all night and her stomach was gurgling as if hungry, but swirling with nausea at the same time. It felt like a cauldron bubbling with acid.
The sound finally stopped and Tara's unfocused eyes made out Willow's hand slamming down on the alarm, though not from lying alongside her.
Willow was perched on the side of the bed beside Tara, in her robe. She brushed some hair from Tara's eyes, then offered her a mug.
"Woke up early so I made you some tea."
Tara made an effort to sit her weak body up and closed her hands around the mug. They missed once or twice on the way, but finally clasped it. It warmed her hands but a shiver still shot up her spine.
Willow saw and lifted the back of her hand to Tara's forehead as she took a sip of the tea.
"Baby, I think you have a little fev–"
She didn't quite get to finish as Tara's tea immediately came back up before even hitting her stomach. Willow got most of it in her lap and the sheet caught the rest. Tara left the mug on the nightstand and her shaking hands covered her mouth.
"Oh, babe," Willow comforted, stretching an arm around to rub Tara's back, "It's okay, don't worry about it."
"I-I'm so s-s-s-sorry," Tara stammered out, trying to pull the sheet away.
Willow gently took Tara's hands away without moving so she wouldn't displace the mess in her lap, which she had managed not to grimace at.
"Don't worry. You go splash your face and I'll clean this up and get you new pyjamas."
Tara's ashen face creased with confusion.
"I can't wear pyjamas to work."
Willow moved her hand around to Tara's cheek.
"Honey, you're clearly sick. You can't go to work. Just call your boss, the nice one you go for a drink with sometimes. I'm sure she'll understand. You have sick days for a reason."
Tara took a second to consider it all, then got up and wandered hazily into the bathroom. Willow peeled herself out of her robe and pyjamas and wrapped it and the sheets all in a big ball, which she placed in a large trash bag to bring down to the laundry room to wash later.
Her skin hadn't caught any of the avalanche so she just jumped into some sweats and a t-shirt and redressed the bed in fresh sheets. She absolutely abhorred that particular chore and hated doing it on her own even more, but she got through it quickly knowing Tara would need it.
When she was finished, she spotted the bathroom was empty, so walked into the living where Tara was naked with a blanket wrapped around her. She was curled up in a ball on the couch and speaking into her phone.
"Th-thanks Alice. Bye," Tara's trembling voice said before she poked at her phone to hang up and leaned her head against the back of the couch, closing her eyes.
Willow sat down behind her and put her hand on the small of Tara's back.
"All okay?"
Tara nodded without opening her eyes.
"T-two other people have stomach flu and a home in Dorchester is on lock-down with it."
Willow's nose scrunched.
"That sounds…militant."
Tara shook her head.
"It just means they're not sending anyone out there unless it's an emergency. All of the kids there have it too."
Willow shuddered.
"I would not like to be in that house right now."
Tara mutely nodded for a moment, then she slowly slumped, falling asleep. It happened so quickly that Willow only realised when Tara's head lolled and almost fell forward, avoiding a near-miss bash against the lamp.
Willow caught her and gently eased her down to lie on her side, exposing her at the back in the process as the blanket was swathed around her front. Willow got the heavier blanket from the bedroom and covered her up completely.
She kissed Tara's temple from behind, found a basin under the sink and left it alongside the couch in case Tara needed it. She checked the bathroom for the pyjamas Tara had discarded, then snuck off and took the bag of sheets and clothes down to the laundry room.
The only thing Willow hated more than making the bed, was laundry. She was terrified of a repeat of the foaming monster she'd created her first time attempting it solo, though her mistake had never been repeated. She was as careful with the machines as if they were her phone or laptop and they had seemed to come to an agreement. It was necessary, considering how regularly she had to use it.
It was important to her to contribute chores to the household and often tried to pull Tara away from doing them, though Tara had put her foot down too and said she wanted an equal exchange.
Willow, instead, would get as much done during the day so Tara could just come home and not have to see or worry about it. In truth, it was a lot more for her own self-worth than easing Tara's stress, but keeping a nice home for her girlfriend and putting a meal on her plate, combined with her volunteer work made her feel better about herself and her absence of a career.
She had accepted there were a lot more important things than money, but it was still her burning passion to be able to provide for Tara. She had learned there lots of ways to do that, though.
That day, it manifested itself as washing the messed up sheets and taking care of her sick girlfriend. Those were the moments she really did feel reassured that her lack of income did not correlate to a lack of contribution in their relationship.
She put everything in on a short spin cycle, double checked, and left it there to go to the convenience store on the corner to get Tara some soup and crackers.
She picked up a couple of cans of chicken noodle for its healing properties and couple of cans of tomato since it was Tara's favourite. Tara had cooked them some really delicious homemade soups before, but Willow hadn't been able to face the chicken carcass to attempt to make her own stock yet.
She had meant to ask Tara to freeze some stock next time she made it, but that was a request for another day.
She had to check her wallet to see what cash she had and had to choose between oyster crackers and saltines instead of getting both like she wanted. She opted for the saltines and brought everything up to the counter with a smile for the jovial man behind.
"Hi Mr. Chatterjee."
He scanned her items through and packed into a paper bag.
"Chicken soup, very good," he said in his clipped Indian accent.
"Is it good?" Willow asked, turning the can in her hand unsurely, "I was never much of a soup connoisseur."
Mr. Chatterjee nodded along with his wide, toothy smile.
"Very good soup."
His smile was always infectious and Willow returned it.
"Thanks."
She gathered the paper bag in one arm and left with a wave, which was jovially returned.
She stopped by the laundry room on the way home and transferred everything to the tumble dryer, then went back upstairs.
Tara weaved in and out of sleep and threw the blanket off and on herself, seemingly unaware how naked she was beneath. Willow didn't like how often her temperature seemed to be fluctuating, so came over and perched gently on the side of the couch. She used her hand to check Tara's forehead again, making her stir.
Willow felt she was warm and gently rubbed her arm.
"Hey, sleepy. Do you think you could eat some soup?"
Tara threw an arm above her head and turned her head into a cushion.
"Ask the tuna."
Willow wasn't used to being on the other end of inane, sleepy babble and couldn't help a small smile.
"Baby, you're delirious."
Tara groaned into the pillow.
"Eat the tuna, not me."
"Delirious, not delicious," Willow corrected softly, "Though you're that too…when you're feeling better."
She got up and brought back two Tylenol and a small glass of orange juice. She tried to encourage Tara to take them but she didn't have much luck.
"You gotta take these. They'll bring your fever down. Look, you're shivering and sweating."
Tara grudgingly took the pills and the barest amount of juice to get them down. She retched almost immediately and Willow quickly brought the basin up while rubbing Tara's back with the other hand.
The circular rhythm on her back seemed to help and Tara managed to keep the pills down, though not without clutching at her stomach in pain.
"Oh, honey," Willow comforted, tucking the blanket in around Tara, "Can I do anything?"
Tara just grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her head, encasing herself in its warmth. Willow patted her head through the fabric.
"Okay, try and sleep some more."
She quietly went to into the kitchen and made herself a sandwich, then sat at the table with her laptop. She'd been filling out aptitude tests and the like, for curiosity and to have locked away for future intent, but they almost all told her she should be involved in computer science or IT.
That just frustrated her as she couldn't imagine doing an entirely new four-year degree, nor taking out the loan to pay for it.
She clicked away from 'official' business and 'played' for a while until there was a knock on the door. She jumped up to answer it quickly before whoever it was woke Tara. She opened the door to Becky who was waving about a six-pack.
"Hi. I brought beer."
Willow put a finger against her lips to indicate to her to be quiet.
"Just because I gave you the front door code doesn't mean you shouldn't buzz up first."
"What's wrong with you, Ms. Cranky?" Becky retorted.
"Tara's sick, she has stomach flu," Willow replied quietly.
Becky nodded over Willow's shoulder.
"That explains that."
Willow looked over and her eyes widened in horror when she saw Tara had rolled onto her stomach and abandoned her blanket, exposing her nude back, butt and legs. Willow rushed over with the speed of a cheetah and covered Tara back up, who started to come around again.
Becky was hanging back and sighed loudly from the doorway.
"Well there goes beer plans. I can't get sick on my first week. I wanted to tell you all about it and thank Tara for all her texts."
Willow was tucking Tara in as tight as she could.
"Sorry Beck, maybe another–"
"Go," Tara interrupted in a mumble, then turned her head towards Willow so her words were more comprehensible, "Go have a beer."
Willow stroked Tara's hair gently, noting her fever had broken.
"But you need me."
"I threw up on you…I owe you one," Tara replied with drooping, glassy eyes that betrayed the fact she still wasn't altogether coherent, "I'm okay. Just take the tuna."
She pushed Willow insistently and dropped her head back into her pillow, still barely aware of her surroundings.
"Go!"
Willow held her hands up defensively and stood up. She rubbed Tara's back once, then got her phone and left it on the arm rest.
"Call me if you need me?"
Tara nodded into her pillow and Willow kissed her forehead. Tara was asleep again by the time the lips left her skin.
Willow went and gave her hands a good wash, then joined Becky outside the door, which she pulled closed silently to keep Tara undisturbed.
They hadn't even made the few steps to the staircase before Becky smirked.
"I always knew Tara would have a nice ass."
Willow's eyes flashed and she stopped on the spot. She turned, shoved Becky up against the nearest wall and held her there with an arm across her chest, near her neck in a move that would be threatening if Willow's head reached taller than Becky's nose.
"You saw nothing. You'll say nothing. Or I'll tell Jack about the time you peed on the side of the road drunk and had to run away from a cop with your pants around your ankles."
Becky's eyes widened with momentary fear, then she nodded curtly. Willow didn't need height to frighten her.
"I saw nothing."
Willow dropped her arm, nodded that they were in agreement and graciously gestured for Becky to walk ahead of her.
"Thanks," Becky said, returning the same nod, "So will we go to mine - wait, why don't I put these away for Jack and you can take me to that little bar you're always talking about?"
"Umm…" Willow replied uncomfortably.
"My treat!" Becky said easily, "This gal is earning a pay check and plans on spending every last red cent!"
Willow smiled softly, appreciating the gesture. She was keen to show Becky Marshall's Bar, even if it was the antithesis of the trendy downtown scene that she and Jack liked to frequent. Willow and Tara had been dragged down there a few times, but weren't much into it so they had tended to meet with the other couple for dinners instead.
"Okay, thanks," Willow agreed, "Maybe just one. I don't want to leave Tara too long."
Becky agreed, hid the six pack in her hugely oversized purse and they walked down to the end of the block and into the bar. It was only late afternoon, so they had a good pick and found a decent booth. Becky ordered them two beers and came to sit opposite Willow.
She took a long, cool sip and sighed.
"Nice to relax after a long day. I like this place. It's different. Cosy. Quaint."
Willow's eyebrows arched.
"Long day? You finished at 3pm."
"Don't make me lecture you on teacher workloads," Becky threatened good-naturedly.
"Okay, okay," Willow agreed, "So how was it?"
Becky offered a considered nod.
"Yeah, it was pretty good. I had a lot more control than when I was doing student gigs. I was able to teach the lesson my way. I didn't hate it."
"Well, you got a middle school gig," Willow reasoned, "That's what you wanted."
"Yeah, you know what?" Becky asked, eyes creasing, "Tweens suck too. Worse, actually. Hyperactivity of children and hormones of teens. I thought I'd catch them in a calm, in-between phase but it's the opposite! If I could only interact with adults for the rest of my life, I would. And only those of my choosing, too."
Willow threw a hand up in the air.
"Why did you get into teaching if you hate kids?"
"The vacations," Becky answered honestly, "I don't hate all of them. There were some nice kids there today. Really interested in To Kill A Mockingbird. I like the ones who pay attention. The other little shits just piss me off."
Willow shook her head to herself.
"Will you hate my kids?"
Becky's nose scrunched.
"I will if they're sticky. Everyone is sticky. Everything too."
"I promise to always have baby wipes on hand," Willow replied dryly.
Becky smiled, then stared over her beer for a few moments.
"You guys talk about that stuff pretty seriously, huh?"
"Babies?" Willow asked, then nodded, "Yeah. Of course. We need to know we're on the same page for the future. Do you not?"
Becky shrugged. There had been whispered sweet nothings of commitment and that was the furthest she'd ever gotten with a boyfriend.
"I've told him I'd be with him forever in an abstract kinda way."
"That's a big deal for you," Willow replied seriously.
Becky considered it and nodded.
"Yeah it is. So is our one year anniversary coming up in November. I've never had a one-year."
"November?" Willow asked with her brow creased, "You guys got together in October. I remember, because we went to Oktoberfest."
Becky tipped her beer forwards.
"We're counting it from the night we decided we were boyfriend and girlfriend, not from when we first bow-chick-a-wow-wow."
Willow fought a shudder.
"Thanks for sharing."
"You asked!" Becky protested, scoffing lightly, "You're the one talking about icky babies."
Her nose scrunched again.
"You really want babies?"
Willow smiled.
"I want Tara's babies."
"But you didn't before you met?" Becky probed.
It was Willow's turn to shrug.
"I hadn't really thought about it."
"I have. It's one thing I know for sure," Becky replied sincerely, "Jack never talks about kids. Does Tara want babies or your babies?"
"Well she wanted them independent of me before we met, but I hope I'm part of the equation now," Willow joked, "But I would be happy with lots of tiny Taras."
Becky smirked at Willow's wording.
"Butt."
Willow kicked Becky hard under the table.
"OW!"
"I know what you're thinking about," Willow replied with a glare, "Stop it."
Becky held her hands up defensively at first, but they soon changed shape like she was cupping a rear. She had tried, but she just couldn't resist a teasing opportunity, at least towards Willow who would just squirm and seethe. She was kind enough to keep the information from Tara, who she knew would never get over the embarrassment.
That, for her, was real growth.
"It was like, the perfect shape," she gushed, making a squeezing motion with her hands, "She's got buns, hun."
Willow was turning red and produced her phone, waving it about.
"I have Jack's number. I will do it if you do not drop it. I have photographic evidence."
"Okay, okay," Becky replied quickly, "Drop the phone. I said I'd bring home food. Do they do good wings here?"
Willow cautiously packed her phone away, then nodded.
"Yeah, really good. Get half Cajun, half Buffalo."
Becky went up to make the order and came back with some pretzels. They finished off their beers, chatting in good spirits and Becky wisely decided not to bring up Tara's butt again. Willow walked Becky to the T stop and they shared a hug as they were parting.
"Hey, seriously, tell Tara to feel better," Becky said, shrugging her purse on her shoulder, "I'm not gonna mention that other thing again. Or how plump it was."
She smirked but waved an apologetic hand about straight away.
"She's been pumping me with inspirational quotes that were surprisingly helpful. So, that's worth a get out of tease free card."
"I'll tell her, and thanks," Willow replied genuinely, "Give our best to Jack. We should do dinner again soon."
Becky motioned a 'call me' sign as headed into the station. Willow turned and headed home, collecting the dried sheets on the way.
When she got into the apartment and set the folded bedding on the table, she noticed blankets and cushions strewn around the couch, but no Tara.
"Baby?"
She saw the bathroom door was open, so she wandered in. The basin was sitting in the sink, not as empty as it had been when she left, and Tara was sitting with her knees up in some hot water in the bath.
"Baby…" Willow said, coming over to kneel next to the tub, "Why didn't you call me?"
"You don't have to deal with this," Tara replied, pale and with goosebumps on her arms from shivering.
She'd also sort of forgotten when or where Willow had gone at all.
Willow patted Tara's hair, then got up and cleaned out the basin as it was starting to smell. She washed her hands thoroughly, then came back to the tub with a washcloth and started to gently wash Tara's arms and legs.
"There's the last of the mystery gone," Tara commented.
"Who wants mystery?" Willow asked as the cloth glided down Tara's collarbone, "I want to know everything about you."
Tara grimaced.
"Even the contents of my stomach?"
"It's not top of the list, but I can deal, especially if I can make you feel better," Willow replied sweetly, "You feel lousy, don't make yourself feel lousier by hating yourself."
Tara looked up and met Willow's eye.
"That's good advice."
Willow felt that penetrating stare in a deep place inside her. She knew she could be guilty of the self-hatred herself and it was another thing to add to her 'must improve on' list. The list was growing bigger, but she was also striking things off it, too. Even with so much up in the air, she felt more balanced than she ever had in her life before.
Her brow relaxed, she smiled softly and wiped down Tara's shoulders.
"Yeah, it is."
She let the cloth wash Tara's back, then wrung it out and left it on the side to dry. She leaned in to peck Tara's lips, but she turned at the last minute so Willow got cheek instead.
"You'll catch it," Tara said, covering her hand with her mouth.
"Don't worry, I don't get sick," Willow replied, getting a towel and wrapping it around Tara as she stepped out.
She dried Tara off and brought her into the bedroom, tucking her in under the clean, crisp sheets.
"Do you want to keep your clothes off?" Willow asked.
Tara nodded.
"Sometimes I get so hot."
"You gotta keep taking the Tylenol," Willow replied, sitting down beside Tara and taking her hand, "Don't suppose I can interest you in that soup yet?"
Tara reluctantly shook her head.
"I can't even bear thinking about it."
"That's okay, we'll just try a little more juice in a bit," Willow advised, "Want me to bring my laptop in here and put something on for you to watch?"
"Okay," Tara agreed, clearly more together after her bath, "Will you stay with me?"
"Of course I will," Willow replied, running out quickly and coming back with her laptop, "You never have to ask me that twice."
She got in the other side and launched the folder with her video files.
"Was Becky here?" Tara asked, resting her arms above the sheets.
Willow cast a sidelong glance in Tara's direction.
"You really were out of it."
Thankfully.
Tara still seemed a bit light-headed, if more lucid.
"How was her first day?"
"Good, she says," Willow replied easily, "Well, good for her. I think she likes it more than she's letting on. She said to feel better and thanks for all the help. Want to watch D.E.B.S?"
Tara grinned and nodded. Willow grinned back, shaking her head.
"Like I even need to ask. You have such a crush on Lucy. I bet you'd love to get your hands on her diamond."
"You have a crush on Amy," Tara countered.
"What can I say, I'm drawn to the artists," Willow replied wryly.
Tara shuffled closer to Willow for comfort.
"I don't know what I'd do without you to take care of me."
Willow rested the laptop between them and snuggled down with Tara.
"You don't have to worry about it."
She pressed her lips to Tara's cheek, then nuzzled her nose there.
"Because I'll be here. Always."