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The Right Mix
CHAPTER TWO: FALSE IMPRESSIONS

Author: Dragkinggoddess
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't even own a car, how could I ever own anything like Willow and Tara? Written respectfully and unprofessionally (no $$ sought) based on characters created by and owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.


The world stood still. Blue eyes locked on green. Neither woman could move. Neither woman could breathe.

Tara was deafened by the sound of her heart pounding in her chest. Sure, she was startled by the red-head's blow-by at the door, but this was something else. Embarrassment or a start usually made her flush, bow her head, and ultimately run away. Right now, she couldn't bow her head. Her eyes were held in the grip of the luminous green orbs before her. She didn't want to run away. She did feel the blood rise to her cheeks, but it was carried by an emotion other than fear.

Willow stood frozen. Her feet were stuck mid-turn. Movement abandoned her mid-lean, holding herself awkwardly away from the porcelain. Her mouth refused to do anything useful beyond her first word, "Sorry", and betrayed her by hanging open.

The blonde stumbled slightly, grabbing the sink next to her breaking the connection between herself and the red-head. At that exact moment, the stall Willow had been waiting for dumped its drunken contents right into her. She stumbled forward onto the same sink supporting Tara. Their hands landed on top of each other.

Time stopped again after the great flurry of movement. Hands locked together. Eyes locked on hands. Breath locked inside heaving chests. Silence.

Straightening, Willow regained feeling in her body and rolled her eyes at the stumbling woman who reeked of beer. Her bladder became the center of her world again and she ducked into the open stall.

Tara reached down and removed the shoes. Slowly she returned to her full and upright position. She wasn't sure what had just happened. Her heart made a languid decrescendo into a forgettable rhythm and she was eventually capable of normal movement. She hooked the heel strap of both shoes over her left index finger and exited the ladies room.


"Will, you are fucking awesome! You've got the crowd really worked up tonight." Buffy danced her way back up to the booth where her best friend was heading into the last few minutes of her live set. Willow had been lost in a trance. for the past two hours. She hadn't been thinking about anything, just cranking out one sound mix after another, not breaking for a moment.

"Wha? Huh?" It took a few moments for her to even realize she had company. She had been staring out into the crowd for some time now, her hands on the same auto-pilot frequency that the rest of her equipment was programmed.

Buffy looked at her friend, noticing the intensity if her gaze. She followed Willow's stare out to the dance floor and a small clump of grinding bodies. There were three of them dancing; very drunk brunette, a blonde with her eyes closed, and a tall, lanky guy with black hair doing his best white-boy dance. He was flailing about so erratically that the hood of his green sweatshirt was slapping the blonde in the face. Buffy smiled and had to suppress a giggle. "Well, well, well, it looks as if someone has finally caught the discerning eye of DJ Red. Good for you, better yet, good for him!" Buffy wasn't going to let this chance get away. Beginning a mad dash, she yelled over her shoulder. "I'll take care of everything Will, don't worry!"

She couldn't hear Willow's frantic reply as she disappeared into the crowd


Tara was immediately smitten with the girl. It was the undeniable truth. However, the shy girl knew that she would never have the guts to introduce herself to the new object of her desire, let alone find out if she was gay or not, and certainly never enough to ask her out if the answer was affirmative. She damned herself for her lack of social forwardness as she joined Kara and her friends just outside the bathroom.

Kara noticed a change in her roomie's mood. Since any change was a big change, she immediately inquired. "What happened in there? Get toilet paper on your shoe?"

Tara was embarrassed at Kara's remark. That was one of her biggest fears actually. She struggled to respond. "Oh, n-nno, n-no. I j-just c-couldn't stand these s-stupid heels any m-more." She held the pair out to their original owner and slid her chin down to meet her chest.

Kara raised an eyebrow. Even in her inebriated state, she recognized Tara's stutter. Something else was going on. Kara also recognized that Tara was not one to share, especially after already denying it once. She shrugged, making a mental note to try to squeeze more info from her roommate later. Kara took the shoes from Tara and flung them over her shoulder. After nearly knocking out a pair of lambada-ing freshman, they came to a peaceful rest under the refreshment table. "Ah, I never liked those much myself anyway," Kara smirked. "Let's dance." She pulled Tara out to the center of the dance floor.

Once Tara got over the initial awkwardness of being in front of such a large crowd, She lost herself in the music. Tara loved to dance. She just usually did it in the privacy of her own dorm room. She closed her eyes and let the booming beat wash over her. Soon she was at the mercy of the music.

Kara cashed in on her friend's love of the dance whenever she could. This was the one thing Tara had a hard time refusing when it came to social events. She loved her roommate dearly, but worried about. She knew finding romance was very difficult for every lesbian in a college setting, but Tara seemed especially labored. So labored, in fact, that it out of the realm of possibility for the remainder of their college career. Kara was determined to hook her roommate up with SOMEONE before this, their final semester ended. Right now she was just happy to see Tara out of their room and having a good time.

As Tara continued moving, the rhythm beating in her mind became accompanied by flashing images of red hair and green eyes. Knowing her thoughts were safely out of view of everyone else, she savored those images and continued dancing.


"Wait Buffy, no, NO!" Willow had realized her friend's words a fraction of a second too late. It wasn't until that very moment that she realized she had been staring into space and daydreaming. Well, not staring into space, truth be told, but staring none the less. She was mesmerized by the blonde from the bathroom. The familiar heart pounding returned as she put it all together. "Oh God, did she know I was staring at that girl? Oh God, is that who she's going to get? How did Buffy figure it out so quickly? I didn't even know I was staring, let alone at her, and hey, why wasn't she a little weirded out by my staring at a girl?" Willow stopped short. "Why aren't I weirded out that I was staring at a girl?"


Buffy karate-chopped her way through the heaving masses. Reaching her destination and seeing the flailing arm-obstacle in her way, she opted for the out-loud approach rather than a private whispering-in-the-ear. "You lucky, lucky, thing you." Buffy shouted.


Continue to The Right Mix Chapter Three


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