Author: ophelia11
Rating: PG-13 for pottymouths and innuendo. Strong chance for naughtiness later on.
Disclaimer: The story is mine. The characters are not. :(
Feedback: Pretty please? Please leave feedback on the Impulse thread on the Kitten Board.

Take your hesitance
And your self-defense
Leave them behind, it's only life
Don't be so afraid
Of facing everyday
Just take your time, it's only life
I'll be your stepping-stone
No, don't be so alone
Just hold on tight, it's only life - 'It's Only Life' - Kate Voegele

"So what's for lunch?" It was every ounce of strength to keep her voice even as she broke away from Willow's pull.

Willow turned and found Tara smiling warmly at her. If you only knew how you drive me crazy. She smiled and stepped forward. "Lots of goodies." Her hand found Tara's and pulled her back in to the living room toward the blanket with the abandoned bags.

Tara glanced over her shoulder to the bedroom and shook her head. Wuss. She allowed herself to be led, mostly because of her growing hunger. They regretfully let go of each other's hands when they returned to the living room. Willow sat on the blanket and reached for the first bag. When Tara didn't sit down next to her, she paused and looked up. "Aren't you coming down here?"

The blonde grinned. "Do you need anything else? Plates? Drinks?"

"Nope. Got it covered. Now sit." She reached out and patted a spot close to her before she resumed unpacking containers.

Tara followed the directive and attempted to peer in to the bag. "How can that much food come out of that little bag? Is that a portal to another dimension?"

Willow giggled. "Maybe." She reached for the second bag and pulled out plastic plates and silverware.

"Are you ever unprepared for anything?" It was not a mocking question. Tara simply never met anyone that was seemingly armed for any situation.

The redhead blushed and looked up. "Sorry. I know it's kinda geeky." She handed over a pale blue plate and matching plastic utensils. "I guess I've always been like this."

Tara reached across the blanket to touch her knee. "I wasn't teasing. I just...You know that question about being stranded on a desert island and what you'd bring?" Willow nodded, unsure of where the conversation was going. "Well I'd bring you."

They held each other's gaze as the statement lingered between them. Willow pulled over the second bag and chuckled, "Probably a good choice. I'd be the gal without an extra set of clothes, but I'd have the 'Worst Case Scenario Handbook' and a suitcase full of ridiculous things like aluminum foil."

Tara shook her head. "That's not why I'd want you...not that those things aren't impressive. I just...I don't think I'd ever get tired of talking to you."

Willow's face was fiery hot and quickly matched her hair. Barely able to look up at Tara, she whispered, "Me either."

Their mutual adoration was leading them to dangerous territory and Tara decided to pull them back in. Nodding to the containers, "So what tasty treats do you have there?"

The question was enough to break Willow from her thoughts and her head bobbed happily as she began lining up the different containers. "Since this is our first picnic I figured I'd get a variety to see what we both liked." She reached for a Styrofoam box. "This is grilled eggplant with Greek seasonings."

"That sounds great." She held out both of their plates and Willow served each of them.

"We also have a good ole picnic stand-by: pasta salad. There's jasmine rice with wild mushrooms. We've got homemade tortilla chips and a spicy corn salsa. And then the best picnic dessert ever. Fresh watermelon." Tara eagerly agreed to everything Willow described and the redhead went to work dishing out the food.

"I know I teased you earlier, but if you order this well all the time, you never have to cook for me." She giggled when Willow stuck out her tongue. "Seriously, Will. This all looks wonderful. So far I think our first official indoor picnic is going very well."

Willow nodded. "Oooh. I almost forgot." She turned back to the bag and pulled out two bottles and plastic cups. "Can't have a picnic without yummy drinks. I picked out a bottle of wine, but then I thought maybe you weren't a wine person so then I got sparkling apple juice."

"Um...let's start with the juice and work up to the wine." Tara reached out and took the cups from Willow and held them out in front of her.

"Sounds good." Willow screwed off the cap and filled each cup. She handed one to Tara and gestured with her own. "To indoor picnics."

Tara raised her cup in return. "To great picnic company."

They smiled at each other as they sipped the juice. The meal was highlighted with light chatter. Willow asked about Tara's previous night at work. Tara brought up the unusual number of storms they had that season. When they were finished, Willow attempted to start the cleanup process.

"Oh, no. Sit." Tara was already pushing herself off the blanket. "You planned all of this. I think I can manage to throw away some empty containers." She let Willow hand her the trash and she carried it in to the kitchen. Willow scooted back so her back rested against the couch and her legs stretched straight out. Tara smiled and sat next to her, mimicking her position. She groaned, "I think I ate too much."

"Mmmm...me too." Willow leaned her head backwards and turned to her right to look at Tara. Grinning, "But it was sooooo worth it."

Tara turned to see her and chuckled, "Oh yeah." She sat quietly watching Willow with a hesitant expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" Willow's brow furrowed, worrying that something was wrong.

"Nothing. I just...what do you do?" Her cheeks reddened. "I didn't really see any clues when I was at your place, so I'm envisioning some superhero hacker-type. But...in this day and age, it's hard to guess... And you were asking me about work earlier and I realized I don't even know what you do." She frowned, "I'm sorry."

Willow scooted closer and nudged Tara's knee with her own leg. "S'okay. I kinda liked that you didn't know. I'm also liking the superhero image so maybe I need to change jobs." Her brow furrowed, "It's not that I was hiding it or anything 'cause I wouldn't do that. It was nice that you were just getting to know me."

Tara was puzzled by Willow's comments. "I'm not sure I follow."

"I'm a writer." Willow said it quietly as if it were something to cause embarrassment.

"Seriously?" Impressive. Also good to know all those words aren't going to waste. "So what sorts of things do you write?"

"Depends on my mood. In college I wrote some pieces for magazines. I've also done some short stories for different anthologies. The more obscure stuff tends to be in my name." She shrugged.

"And the less obscure stuff?" Tara was absorbing as much information as she could, already planning a visit to the local library.

"Does 'W.D. Rosen' ring a bell?" Willow risked a glance to Tara, whose face was showing signs of recognition.

"You mean to tell me I have a bestselling author sitting on the floor of my tiny apartment?" A part of her felt mortified that she hadn't known, but then...why would she?

"Tara, you goof. I use a pseudonym for that reason. Well...not specifically so I can befriend pretty girls and impress them with my food ordering prowess, but you know...the anonymity?" Willow grinned. "I've always really liked writing and I'm grateful that it's how I've made my living, but I'm not as interested in the fame portion."

"I'm stuck in one of those six degrees of famous people loops in my head." She giggled.

"I'm hardly famous." Still, the redhead blushed at the notion.

"Willow." Tara turned and gripped her shoulders. "You're on best seller lists. Your name...well your pseudo one makes it in to tabloids...which I don't read by the way." She glanced away shyly at the half admission.

Willow didn't expect the awe-struck reaction from Tara and her amusement pushed her beyond the initial embarrassment. "Are you okay? 'Cause you're kinda freaking out on me."

Tara's eyes widened as she realized how she was acting. She covered her face with her hands and groaned. "Ugh. I'm sorry. I'm being silly."

"It's cool. Although, I gotta tell you, spazzing out is really my department." She winked at Tara. "Seriously though. Are you okay with this?"

"I'm fine. You just took me by surprise." She looked at Willow more speculatively. "Why wouldn't it be okay?"

Her smile faded and she shrugged. "It's not like being a movie star or anything, but I've had a variety of reactions over the years. Strangers wanting to be my friend and then my real friends freaking out a little too. When I first started submitting things in college Buffy was always asking if I was writing about her."

Tara raised an eyebrow, "Were you?"

Willow's grin returned. "I told her every time I wrote about the 'slutty one' it was her. She stopped asking after that." They shared a laugh. Willow reached out and placed her hand on Tara's knee. "Not that I'm doing much writing these days, but I would never..."

The blonde placed her hand over Willow's, effectively silencing her. "I trust you."

"Good." Willow gently rotated her hand beneath Tara's so that their palms pressed flat against each other. Her fingers laced with Tara's and she squeezed.

The blonde cocked her head to one side. "Why aren't you writing anymore?"

Willow hesitated. "I've had a block for a while now. There was a time when I was churning them out like a robot. I guess those days are gone."

Tara looked up apologetically. "I um...I haven't read anything of yours. I..."

"Well clearly we can't stay friends." Her eyes twinkled with amusement. "I did a series a few years back and Buffy hounded me the entire time. It definitely encouraged me toward the one-shot stories for the rest of time."

"Well judging from the bookstore displays I see, I'll have plenty to keep me busy." She winked at Willow.

"Tara," she cautioned.

"I know that tone, Willow. I don't want to do it because of obligation. I just...Every time I find out something about you, I end up wanting to know more." Tara blushed through the confession, but found it impossible not to tell Willow what she was feeling.

Willow nodded in understanding. Recognizing her place on the losing side of the argument, she conceded. "You win this time, Gadget."

The blonde smiled smugly. "That's right."

"Just um....don't uh...don't buy them. I wouldn't feel right. Next time you're over I'll just give you whatever you want." Her fingers moved along the quilt, tracing the various patterns on the fabric.

"You don't have to be my personal lending library. Especially when there's a real library right down the street." Willow's hand was moving more vigorously now and Tara placed her hand down, forcing the redhead to stop the neurotic behavior and look up at her.

"I'm a fan of the library, but not everyone treats books with their due respect. I've never understood what about a library book makes people crave jam sandwiches which they must eat while reading said book and apparently napkins are a rarity in their home." She blew out a frustrated breath causing her bangs to raise and settle back along her forehead.

Laughing, "What now?"

Blushing, "You know...um communal books and messy snacks and you don't know where the books have been...and I realize this is completely insane and I'm shutting up now."

Shaking her head at Willow, she continued to grin. "It's uh...quirky, but I would love to borrow your jam-free books if it's all right."

The beaming smile was back. "Absolutely. Just don't tell Buffy. She's always mooching stuff and losing it or you know...eating jam sandwiches..."

So that's where this all originated. "I promise..." she nodded with amusement, "no jam." They shared a thoughtful look, "And I won't tell Buffy." She winked, effectively sealing the deal on their secret.

She just winked at me. She has pretty eyes. I bet people get lost in those eyes. Her lips are moving a lot. Is she talking? How long has she been talking? Should I be talking now? What happened to my thoughts? Forcing herself back in to the conversation, she muttered, "Hmm?"

"I was just wondering about your other stuff. You said you wrote some things under your own name? Are those thrillers too?"

Willow hesitated, unsure of how much to share. "Um...no. Most of the Willow-y stuff is older and not so uh...mass produced. You know the romantic-y, idealistic kinda stuff you write in college and then look back at and cringe years later? I think most of them were magazine runs only." She hoped that would dissuade the blonde without being too obvious.

Tara stretched her arm across the couch behind Willow's head and turned to face her more fully. "It's interesting."

"What?" she managed. Tara's close proximity made her feel suddenly warm.

Her face grew more serious. "I was just thinking. The mainstream work you do? The books that make you the most money? You write them under another name...so they can't really be tied back to you."

She watched Willow nod in agreement. "I guess that's true."

"But this other stuff. The articles and short stories from your mysterious past? I could be totally wrong...but you seem almost embarrassed by them, but they are the ones that have your real name." Tara paused, considering her next words carefully. "I wonder if it's less about shame and more about vulnerability. Those words are like your 'true' voice, you know? You chose to put your name to them even though they wouldn't bring you fame and fortune. Maybe for that reason. I'm curious what's in your stories that you're afraid for me to see."

Stunned, Willow opened her mouth to speak. "I...uh...wow."

Tara nodded, her suspicions now confirmed. The lopsided grin was firmly in place. "As much as I would enjoy teasing you with this knowledge, I wouldn't read them if you didn't want me to."

"Since I did in fact publish those ill-fated works, I can't really stop you from reading them."

"True. However, I still maintain that if you don't want me to read them, I won't." She continued to watch Willow intently, noting how the anxiety settled and was replaced by calm.

"Hmmm..." Willow considered her options, "How about this? I won't stop you from reading them, but it'll be your effort to find them." She grinned, believing victory was hers.

"Ah. So while you probably have some magical disk at home that has all of these elusive works, you are going to make me relearn the Dewey Decimal System and go blind on microfiche because you're wicked?" Her eyes twinkled with amusement at Willow's compromise.

"Yep. Heh. Wicked Willow. Yep. That's what they call me." She grinned.

"Fine," Tara conceded, "but you underestimate my researching abilities."

"No, no. I wish you and the card catalog the best of luck." She smiled smugly.

"You know. Joking aside, I think it's really cool that you're this big-time writer. Not because you're famous, but because in the short time I've known you, I can only imagine the kind of ideas that flow through your brain. Add to that your ability to put them in to a format to share with others? It's...in my lackey layman terms, cool. I don't understand how you do it, but I still appreciate it. You're really smart, Willow. It's one of the things I like best about you."

The words touched Willow deeply and she smiled a little wider. "I don't do much writing these days, though. Think the old muse headed south to warmer pastures."

"Maybe you just need to look for inspiration somewhere else." Though she really meant it, Tara hoped her comment would be lighthearted and shift them to other discussions.

However, Willow absorbed the words and looked deeply in to Tara's eyes, memorizing the look and feel of this moment. Maybe I do, indeed. "So..."

"So..." She continued to watch Willow. "I serve coffee..." Tara said with a hint of self-deprecation.

"Okay we've talked about my freakish coffee addiction right?" Willow looked to Tara for confirmation and received a small nod of agreement. "So you, as preparer and deliverer off said sacred beverage makes you saintly in my eyes."

Tara rewarded Willow's efforts with a beaming smile. "You always make me feel special, you know that? Like I'm the only person in the room."

Willow couldn't help but giggle. "Um...not that I'm not glad to make you feel that way 'cause you should...all the time...but uh, Tara? You kinda are the only person in the room."

She rolled her eyes, "You know what I mean, though. I can go on and on about something completely insane and you still make me feel like my point is valid."

"Well, good. And...as if being Saint Tara of Caffeine-land wasn't enough, I just learned you're an artist. You are also apparently a bit of a masochist if you intend to waste an afternoon in the dusty basement of the local library going bleary-eyed for some obscure stories. I know I'm just scraping the surface of 'Tara Maclay', but the woman I know so far is pretty impressive. You know who you are, Tara. You don't define yourself by your job. I don't recommend starting."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience."

She leaned her head back against the blonde's arm. "I was always the girl with the good grades. Then I was the computer geek that sat alone at the library. You know the literary girl that doesn't go to prom and stays home to write sappy poetry? I didn't become remotely 'cool' until by some freakish event I was published. Sometimes I worry that when you take those things away, there's nothing else left."

"Oh, Willow." Her right hand made its way to Willow's knee and squeezed. "Sweetie, you are so much more. If you think about it, I didn't know anything about your grades or your job before today. I like spending time with you because you're interesting and fun and when I'm with you, I can't seem to stop smiling."

Willow's eyes sparkled with excitement at Tara's words. She smiled shyly and placed her hand over Tara's. "I know the feeling."

They remained in comfortable silence, content with the other's company and felt no pressure to fill the void with meaningless words. Both women continued to lay against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Eventually Tara broke through the quiet. Without turning, she asked, "What did you want to be when you were little?"

Willow chuckled at the question. "A scientist, but in the less geeky way than you'd think. It was more wanting to be a mad scientist." She considered the question carefully, "But still with the lab coat. That's what made it all scientific-y. I used to put on one of my dad's white dress shirts, much to my mother's dismay."

Warm laughter erupted from Tara as she pictured a miniaturized Willow in her makeshift lab coat. "That has got to be the cutest thing I've ever heard."

"Oh it gets better." Willow looked slightly chagrined. "I um...I used to mix these um...potions..." she mumbled. A heavy sigh escaped as she heard Tara laugh harder. "So I'd um...I'd mix them up in the sink in the bathroom." Amused laughter turned in to a loud cackle as Tara grabbed her belly with both hands. "That's it...I'm done!"

"No..." Tara managed as she sucked in deep breaths. "You have got to tell me how this ends." Her voice was full of mirth as she spoke. She sat up and reached for one of the pillows off the couch. Propping it against the front, she scooted until she was lying down and rolled on to her side to face Willow. "Please?"

In spite of her embarrassment, Willow enjoyed the reaction she was getting from Tara. Realizing there was no way she could not finish the story, she decided she should at least be comfortable. Willow shifted to match Tara's position and continued. She sighed, "So I made these potions...and then I would bottle them up in those little hotel travel bottles?"

At that point Tara raised her hand to interrupt. "What exactly was in these potions?"

Willow shrugged. "Oh whatever wasn't nailed down. Mostly it was different soaps and conditioners and bathroom stuff. I tried baby powder once but it made a weird sticky paste."

Tara found herself struggling to hold back her amusement and her lips curved in to a full grin. "Go on..."

"So my dad would 'ooh' and 'aah' over them. Who knows what the heck he did with them 'cause they never showed up in the house garbage."

"And your mom?" Tara prompted. A wave of sadness flashed over Willow's face and was gone in an instant. The blonde briefly wondered if she imagined it.

"She ultimately put an end to my mad scientist days after I decided my potions should be scented and proceeded to dump in her entire bottle of Chanel #5." Her voice remained even-keeled through the final retelling and for several seconds there was silence in the room.

It started as a mild body jerk and quickly grew in to convulsive shaking. Laughter spilled from Tara's mouth like an overflowing vase until it grew in to a full guffaw. "Oh. My. God." Tears escaped her eyes and she tried in vain to wipe them away.

Willow couldn't help but smirk and then join in. Remembering the expression on her mom's face finally brought up her own laughter. Still, she could hardly let Tara laugh so fully at her expense. "Oh you think that's funny?"

At first, Tara could only nod. "It may be the funniest thing I've ever heard." Her eyes were closed tight so she missed the impish grin spreading over Willow's lips.

Green eyes scanned Tara's body quickly, deciding on the best area for attack. Hips were left unguarded and ten diligent soldiers went to work defending what was left of Willow's honor. "This will really make you laugh then."

Tara squealed when Willow began tickling her and squirmed to restrain the active fingers. Willow anticipated each attempted escape, all the while moving her hands up along Tara's sides. For several seconds Tara had both of Willow's hands trapped in her own, but the redhead was too fast and resumed the assault. Finally, the blonde considered a new approach and grabbed Willow in her arms pulling her closer, thereby slowing the advances.

Willow gulped as she felt Tara's arms slide around her. Though their movements were done in play, she couldn't control the emotions created from the gesture. She made a weak effort to continue tickling but soon settled against Tara's body. Fearful what the blonde might think, she started to pull away and was surprised when Tara pulled her closer while rolling on to her back. Willow remained on her right side, cradled in Tara's arms with her head resting on the other woman's shoulder.

Slowly their breathing returned to normal, but neither made an effort to pull away. It wasn't until the faintest snore came from Tara that Willow realized she'd fallen asleep. It would be rude to wake her, she thought wickedly. Before long, Willow's eyes fluttered closed and she drifted off, soothed by the earthy scent of Tara.