Author: EasierSaid
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Please don't sue me Mutant Enemy.
Feedback: Please leave feedback on the Neverland thread on the Kitten Board.
Note: Thoughts in italics.
Songs (in order of Willow's playlist): 'How We Know' by The Thermals; 'Tule Fog' by Charmless; 'Yawn, Yawn, Yawn' by Les Savy Fav; 'Midas' by Rubicks; 'A List I Could Write' by The Eskimos; 'Lost' by The Open; 'Smoke Baby' by Hawksley Workman; 'Let's Get Lost' by Tina Dico.

At the ten second mark, Willow rolled over onto her stomach to cut the song off before the next started, and her eyes caught with Tara's. The blonde was looking at her, intently, and Willow just stared. "P-Pretty song..." Tara whispered as it faded out, and Willow nodded.

"Yeah..." the redhead said, her eyes darting down to look at the Tara's full lips, her head dropping closer to the blonde's face slowly. Willow felt the blonde's hand reach up and stroke the back of her arm, a slow, soft movement that made the redhead's heart flutter. Their lips connected, lightly at first, and then more ardently, Tara gripping the back of Willow's left arm and tugging. The redhead took the hint and pushed herself up onto her outstretched hands; without breaking the kiss, she smoothly moved more fully on top of the blonde, nudging her leg between Tara's and settling partially onto her body. Tara sighed in approval and their sensual kisses continued, neither rushing or pushing for more. There was nothing hesitant about their kisses, and the slow way their lips moved together, the way their tongues moved out to touch, it was familiar. Normal. As if they did this every day.

After a long moment, Willow pulled back and looked at Tara's face in the low light. A muffled, rhythmic beeping could be heard above their heads, but the redhead didn't acknowledge it. She brought her hand up and brushed a few stray hairs from the blonde's face, her green eyes memorizing how the blonde girl's eyes sparkled underneath the fairy lights. She couldn't be any more beautiful...

"Your computer's beeping..." Tara said softly, and Willow turned her head to look at the machine.

"It's not the computer," she said, returning her gaze to the blonde, her body settled snuggly against the girl below her. The beeping stopped and Tara's brow quirked.

"It's my alarm; I hit snooze," Willow said, a seemingly left-field statement that neither girl found unusual. "It'll be back in nine minutes," the redhead whispered, moving her left hand down to Tara's side, brushing softly over the fuzzy fabric of the girl's sweater. "Tara," the redhead began, her hand brushing up to barely touch the underside of the girl's breast before slipping back down her side. "Do you think Buffy's 'adorable'?"

"Sometimes," Tara replied, a warm smile on her face. "Most the time I think, 'perky'."

Willow smiled at that and leaned down, capturing the blonde's lips again for a slow kiss. She pulled back and propped herself up on her elbow, resting her head on her hand. "I like that you think I'm adorable," she said, her voice honest and trusting.

"Ahh..." Tara said, slipping her arms around the redhead's waist, idly moving her hands in little soothing round circles on the girl's back, her hip. "That's what that question was about..." Willow's brow quirked and the blonde squeezed her lightly. "You're a different kind of adorable..." Willow arched her eyebrow and a half-smile appeared on Tara's face. "You're the kind of adorable I want on my bed late at night..." She waggled her eyebrows, a wide grin pulling at her lips and she squeezed Willow tightly.

The redhead blushed and leaned down, kissing the blonde deeply. She instinctively pushed her knee up into Tara's center and the blonde reacted by closing her legs around the limb, dragging her own leg up, the inside of her thigh rubbing against Willow's hip. The redhead groaned slightly and rotated her hips in a lazy circular motion, squeezing her hand around Tara's waist as the blonde brought her hands up and tangled them in Willow's hair. After a few long moments of slowly grinding together, trading heated tongue strokes in each other's mouth, they pulled apart for air, Willow resting her forehead against the blonde's.

"The beeping's back..." Tara panted and Willow nodded, her breathing irregular as well.

"Hold on, one sec."

The redhead struggled out of her dream, her hand reaching out to her side to grab the droning alarm clock in her dimly lit bedroom. She pressed the snooze button again, knowing that it would still only be 7:33 and she had another snooze or two in her before she had to be up for her conference call. She tried to slip back into her dream, and sighed in deep frustration when she found that she couldn't. It was knowing what time it is... she thought, trying to figure out why she had been able to get back to Tara after the first alarm call, but not the second. Stupid awake brain. She was up now, or at least her mind was, even if her body was still sluggish and somnolent. She let the disappointment dissipate as she remained still, snuggled under her comforter.

She sighed, letting her mind wander to the previous night. It had been fun, so much more than what she had expected when she had looked over the lights in the hardware store. She thought back to the rain against the window, the way that that rickety chair had protested ominously with a creaking groan every time Tara stepped up on to it... how Tara moved effortlessly as she worked, her hands, god, how beautiful they looked as she delicately strung the lights. Willow smiled. The night had indeed been fun. But there was something bugging her, she thought, her smile fading as the idea pushed forward in her mind. The night had been fun, but she hadn't enjoyed it.

That's not true... Willow thought with a protesting frown, she had certainly enjoyed watching Tara, how the soft flannel of her pajamas had accented her rear, how her eyes sparkled when she was teasing her. And Tara teasing her. The redhead smiled a sleepy grin, that had been very enjoyable. Willow sighed dreamily. She thinks I'm adorable... Even if it was platonic, which it probably was... even if it was just something one friend says to another when goofing around, it was something. So maybe I did enjoy myself... Willow thought cautiously.

She just hadn't enjoyed Tara.

Willow frowned, not liking the thought but suspecting that it was true. She had laid next to the blonde on her bed in the near dark and counted down the seconds until it was over. What's up with that...? Willow thought frustrated, her forehead knitting. The one thing she wanted most in the world was Tara, to spend time with her and her alone, yet given the this amazing opportunity to enjoy a romantic, intimate moment, and she freaked. Why can't I just relax and enjoy spending time with her...?

Willow rolled onto her side and opened one eye, peaking at the red numbers on the clock. Almost on cue the alarm began it's shrill beep and she hastily pressed down the snooze button. 7:42. She really should get up, maybe make some coffee before she had to call in at 8 for that stupid meeting. But... her bed was so warm, and her limbs still so heavy... And there were still other matters from last night to pick apart. Like Tara leaning away from her. The look on the blonde's face when Willow had leaned in to grab her CDs... surprised. If she had been a cartoon she would have had two big question marks for pupils. She couldn't have thought you were going to kiss her... Willow told herself dismissively. She doesn't think you're that way...

But what if she does. What if she did lean away because she didn't want you to try and kiss her? The redhead tried to think back to the blonde's body language. When the song was ending, Tara was staring at her. Not just idly looking, the gaze was too intense for just a passive look. It's why I thought about kissing her... Willow thought, her lips frowning slightly. She had been staring, right? But then when I leaned in... The girl sighed. If that had been the end of things, Willow knew she would have been up all night, turning 'the lean' around in her brain, devastated by the blonde's apparent rejection. But there had been more. A hug. A simple act of gratitude that had almost made her knees buckle. A brief, friendly embrace that she wanted desperately to feel again. And again. And forever, if she was being perfectly honest with herself...

But why did she lean away on the bed? Willow sighed. You were kinda spazzy, she allowed, remembering how she had just, stood up and leaned down for the CDs without warning or indication of her actions. You might have just startled her, the redhead reasoned. Besides, she wouldn't have hugged you if she was totally opposed to touching you... The redhead sighed again.

I wonder if I can hug her today... she thought, her eyes blinking open slowly. She squinted at the window, the rivulets of water sliding down the glass outside. Dark, gloomy... definitely an indoor-all-day kind of day. The redhead stretched under the covers, her socks turned the wrong way and partially hanging off of her feet. She pulled herself into a sitting position and yawned, covering her mouth with one hand and pulling the comforter up to her chin with her other. Her back, covered in two shirts, still bristled at the cold. She looked over at the clock, 7:49 staring back at her. She turned the alarm off, figuring she had just enough time for a run to the bathroom and to get some coffee going. She swung her legs out of her bed, and began her day with shuffled steps across the cold wood floor.

A gust of wind blew against the window, slapping a heavy sheet of rain against the glass and Tara woke slowly at the noise. She grumbled a slight protest and opened her eyes, seeing that it was just before 9. She sighed, and closed her eyes again. She had been dreaming. She couldn't remember what exactly she had been dreaming of, but she suspected it had been Willow because her lips were tingling and her skin was flush. After a long moment spent futilely trying to remember the dream, she sniffed and then sat up, stretching from one side to the next and then twisting her back. Hearing a satisfying string of pops, she dropped her hands heavily to her lap and then stared at the door. She didn't hear anything. Weird... she thought, knowing Willow was home today. Unless she went out for breakfast, Tara mused, the brief thought rejected as her eyes took in the storm raging beyond their walls.

Why did I lean away... she internally groaned, pinching her eyes shut, her stomach dropping. She sighed and opened her eyes, frowning. Hadn't she decided she wasn't going to dwell on this last night? It happened; Willow had startled her by standing and leaning into her and she pulled away, it didn't mean anything. And besides, Willow wasn't going to kiss her, so it wasn't as if she had blown a one-and-only chance to get kissed. Concentrate on the good things, she thought, remembering how the redhead looked under the lights, how she had felt in her arms. She smiled at that. The hug had been slightly awkward, what with Willow's hands full, but it had been nice. More than nice, Tara admitted, remembering the way their warm bodies had molded together, how it had felt to have their breasts connect. Her dreamy sigh turned into a yawn, and she covered her mouth with one hand while pulling the covers from her body with the other.

She stood and stretched again, and the feeling between her legs told her the dream she had had must have been of the very spicy variety. Can't throw me a bone with just one little memory? She grumbled at her uncooperative unconscious mind, and when she got nothing in return for her plea, she shook her head. Maybe she needed to get some mugwort, she'd heard that could help with remembering dreams...

She shuddered slightly as she adjusted to the temperature outside of her bed. It was chilly, but not freezing, which meant that Willow must have already turned on the thermostat. She never turns it on high enough, Tara thought, knowing the redhead was usually cold, but unwilling to go above the recommended 68 degrees out of respect for Tara's financial situation. The blonde remembered the semi-lecture she had received when she suggested keeping the heat at a higher level, Willow finally printing out a chart showing how much money she'd save if they just bundled up. Little did the girl know that most cold days, the blonde upped the heat to 70. She didn't care about the extra money, she just wanted Willow to be comfortable.

Tara pulled on a zip-up sweater and slid on her scuff slippers, then opened her door and strained her eyes down the hallway to see Willow's door ajar. The blonde dipped into the bathroom, and a few minutes later emerged. She moved to the head of the stairs, about to descend to start her morning routine, but stopped. She heard the slight clicking of the redhead typing, and a soft giggle. I just have to see her... Tara thought, turning back and walking to Willow's room. She knocked slightly on the door, and peeked in. The redhead was sitting in front of her desk, two large monitors in front of her, and headphones covering her ears. Beautiful... Tara smiled at the sight of the redhead's soft grin, but internally frowned at the reappearance of the headphones. She cleared her throat, and knocked a little harder on the open door.

Willow jumped slightly and then smiled sheepishly as she removed her headphones, turning to face her roommate. "Hey, good morning."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you-"

"No, it's; just was all wrapped up in my own little world," the redhead reassured. "What's up?"

"N-Nothing," Tara replied, suddenly grasping for a reason why she would intrude on Willow's space this morning. "I was just going to go make some coffee, wondered if you wanted some?"

Willow reached out and picked up a cup on the edge of her desk. She tipped it toward her and looked up at the blonde. "Yeah, I'm almost out, I could use a refill. Only..." She looked at her monitor and then back toward Tara, an apologetic look on her face. "I was just in the middle of emailing my mom, she sent her trip information and I know she's only going to be online for another couple of minutes-"

"No problem," Tara assured. "I'll just have it ready for you downstairs when you're ready." She took a slight step backwards and flashed her trademark lopsided grin.

"K," Willow replied, lost in the blonde's beautiful half-grin. Catching herself right before her actions could be described as 'staring', the redhead continued with, "I mean, okay, that sounds good, both the coffee and the downstairs and the-"

"Take your time," Tara said, backing up and turning, heading down the stairs after taking a deep breath. Amazing... How was it that the redhead could look so hot just sitting in front of a computer? She wore worn jeans that were obviously well loved and well, tight enough to give Tara ideas. Couple that with what looked like a very soft blue sweater... Tara sighed lightly, wondering how she'd survive this week. Stupid, unremembered naughty dream...

The blonde stepped into the main room and flicked on the lights, again looking to the storm outside. So dark. She shook her head and moved into the kitchen, putting on the kettle and removing the french press from the dish drainer, smiling that Willow had cleaned it after using it this morning. She put the press on the counter, then set about fixing the coffee and a bowl of yogurt and fruit for breakfast. She ate the fruit absently as she waited for the kettle to whistle, staring at nothing in particular as she put off thinking about her day. She took her last bite as the kettle finally sounded, and she quickly pulled it from the burner and poured the boiling water into the press. She let the water settle, then pressed down, the coffee settling. She poured herself a cup, stirring in a liberal amount of cream, and then took a sip. She nodded and then looked up to the ceiling. She looked back down to the french press and then back up.

A few minutes she was climbing the stairs, the press and a small server of cream in one hand, her steaming mug in the other. This might be a really bad idea... she thought nervously as she entered the hallway at the top of the steps. She stopped, took a deep breath and allowed herself time to change her mind. She nodded to herself resolutely, her mind made up to continue on her fool's errand, and moved toward Willow's room. She awkwardly tapped her foot against the open door to get the redhead's attention, her hands occupied and again the blonde frowned at the headphones. Willow looked up, her mind not processing the sight before her. Tara, holding the coffee press, frowning. "Tara?" She asked concerned, pulling the headphones from her ears.

"You don't have to wear those, you know," Tara said, standing in the doorway.

"What, the headphones?" Willow asked, looking at the cans and then back to Tara. "I don't mind, I wear them at work all the time."

"But this isn't work, this is your home," the blonde countered, her voice reassuring. "I want you to feel like this is your space. Would you wear them if you lived alone?"

"I just don't want to bother you," the redhead admitted sheepishly.

"You won't," Tara said. "And if you do, I'll let you know." Willow smiled, before her eyes dropped down and she noticed Tara was holding a handful. "Oh," Tara said, looking down to her hands. "I thought I'd bring the coffee to you." The redhead smiled softly and stood, taking the press and cream from the blonde and moving it back to her desk, clearing room for both on the surface with a push of her forearm against a binder. Tara watched from the doorway, her eyes again skipping around Willow's room. Still nothing on the walls but the calendar...

Willow poured herself some coffee, and then cream. She swirled the cup in her hand and then looked over her shoulder to see Tara still standing in the doorway. "You can come in..." she said, wondering if Tara felt like she needed to be invited.

"T-Thanks," Tara replied with a nervous smile, stepping into the room. Willow's eyebrow quickly quirked at that, the arch fading as she smiled at the blonde, who stood awkwardly a few feet in from the doorway.

"Sit down," Willow said, nodding to the edge of her bed. Do I make her nervous? Does she feel weird being in my room?

"Okay," Tara replied with a slight smile, moving gingerly to sit on the bed. She sat and took a sip of her coffee, hoping the edge of the cup covered her brief blush. Willow sat back down in front of her computer, and turned to face the blonde.

"Sorry, I keep meaning to get another chair..." she said apologetically, looking around the room.

"It's okay," Tara said softly. "You get things figured out with your mom?" She asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, I think so," Willow nodded, not eager to get into a conversation about her mother's upcoming visit. "You missed Buffy by like five minutes," she said, smoothly changing topics. "She was online. So super jealous that we went to Citizen Cake on Saturday."

"She is?" Tara replied, amused by Willow's wide grin but unsure as to why Buffy would be jealous about their trip to get cake.

"Yeah, apparently they have a new 'Executive Pasty Chef' or something and she's been meaning to check it out. Got a big write up in the Chronicle a couple of weeks ago and everything. She said she couldn't believe we got in without reservations. Then she called us names," Willow smirked, taking a sip of coffee.

Tara smirked in return and chuckled, bobbing her head slightly. "Looks like we, um, out-hipped the hipster."

"Go us!" Willow said, raising her mug slightly. Tara smiled widely and raised her own mug. They each took a sip after their impromptu toast, and Tara nodded to Willow's computer.

"How's work going, conference call go okay?"

"Oh yeah," Willow nodded, putting the cup down on the desk. "It was pretty much just ten minutes of, 'now don't forget to work'. Kinda worthless, really."

"What are you working on now?" Tara asked, noticing a fuzzy image of a skeleton on the screen.

"CMDTD, Color Match for Dense Tissue Display," the redhead said after briefly looking at the screen. "We're trying to integrate color into the output so that doctors can just, push a button and spotlight areas of dense tissue mass, usually tumors. Helps them explain stuff to their patients."

"Sounds kinda tricky," Tara said, admitting that everything about Willow's work sounded fantastically complicated.

"Kind of," Willow nodded. "The first version we had kept turning all the bones red. It was a little weird, but now we've got it down, for the most part." Willow paused for a moment, "do you, wanna see?"

"Sure," Tara said nodding her head. She stood and moved to Willow's side, the redhead rotating to face her computer, trying not to notice how she could feel the heat from the girl to her left. She took the mouse in her right hand and moved it until she spotted the cursor on the screen. She clicked on the fuzzy image until it doubled in size.

"Okay, so this is what the usual output looks like," she explained. "Here..." she dragged the mouse up to figure's midsection. "There's a dense tissue mass there."

Tara squinted at the form for a long moment. "I don't see anything..." she said sheepishly, slightly embarrassed that she couldn't pick out what Willow was pointing at.

"Exactly," Willow said with a slight smile. "It's almost unseeable." She flashed the blonde a grin and then turned back to the computer. "So, what we're doing..." She pressed a button and the file rewrote, bits of color showing on the image. At the bottom of the figure's ribcage was a small blob of red. "This person has a tumor on his lungs."

"Wow," Tara said, eyeing the red mass. "That's... amazing."

Willow smiled proudly. "Thanks." Tara took a step back and Willow turned in her chair to face the girl. "It's a small project, but hopefully we can roll that into a bigger program, something that helps the doctors make their diagnosis instead of just explain them."

"I think this will help," Tara said. "Explaining stuff like this to family members... it'll help." She smiled sincerely at Willow, and the redhead nodded.

"Do you wanna have lunch?" The redhead blurted out. The blonde raised her eyebrows and Willow quickly backpedaled. "I mean, only if you have time, you don't have to say yes, I know you're super busy and I don't want you to feel like you have to say yes, that you have to spend time with me just because I'm home-"

"I'd love to have lunch," Tara interrupted. "Will get me out of my studio," she chuckled with a half smile. "What time were you thinking?"

"I don't know," Willow said with a shrug, her stomach already fluttering at Tara's yes. "Like 12:30?"

"Okay," Tara nodded, taking a couple of steps backward. "Just come and get me when you're hungry." She flashed a lopsided grin and Willow melted.

"K."

The blonde made it to the door and turned. "The press-"

"Don't worry about it, I'll finish the pot," Willow said, pointing to the coffee. "Thanks for bringing it up."

"No problem," Tara said with a smile. The girl exited, and her smile grew when she heard soft music start behind her. She sighed happily, and made her way into her room to collect items for her shower. Lunch... she touched her fingers against her lips, and giggled to feel the smile. Willow...

Forty minutes later Tara was settling herself onto the floor of her studio, her lower back resting against the wall. She had stopped into the redhead's room before heading downstairs and refilled her coffee cup, Willow smiling and chiding her that it was a good thing she had taken a short shower, as she was just about to finish off the pot. Was it just me or did she blush when she mentioned me in the shower... Tara ran her finger along the lip of her mug and crossed her legs, letting her mind wander to how Willow's form looked in those faded jeans. Probably just the caffeine, she thought, shaking her mind free of the tantalizing image. She did have like four cups this morning... She picked up the remote in her left hand and pointed it at the stereo, pressing play and kicking off her first listen of Willow's 'Real Me' CD.

She leaned back against the wall fully and concentrated on the music starting to pour out of the small speakers. She had a pad of paper next to her on the floor, and hopped that if she gave the music a good listen, sans distractions, she'd be able to cull a few ideas, some inspiration for a painting or two. That was the official reason for why she was listening so intently, anyway. Unofficially, and secretly, she desperately wanted to pick apart the songs and figure how each related to the 'Real Willow'. See what spoke to Willow, what made Willow fluttery. The blonde sighed, and turned her attention to the music.

The first handful of songs were raw, punk-like bursts of sound with vivid lyrics about pain, love and isolation. Aside from some mild concern about the redhead identifying with words of pain and isolation... the blonde loved the music. Aggressive but melodic, driving but gentle. And the imagery... Her pad of paper was already filling up with scraps of lyrics. "Spill water like love", "dancing with the broken man," "charging at windmills"... She had to smile at that last one. The line made her think of Queen Wilhelmina Garden in Golden Gate Park, the small tulip garden situated beneath the large weathered windmill facing Ocean Beach. She couldn't help but wonder if that line reminded Willow of their time spent in that garden... lying next to each other on the grass, talking about nothing and everything... Unlikely... she thought as the a new song started and the tone of the CD shifted. This song, and the one after it, were dreamy, soaringly epic. Tara wondered at the shift, but appreciated it nonetheless, enjoying how the new direction in music caressed her ears.

She was absently waiting for a new direction in music, when the song started. The twin acoustic guitars, the unusual drum line... and then the sultry voice. "In your underclothes, you went out for a smoke..." Twenty-two seconds into the song and Tara was hooked, completely locked into the hypnotic music surrounding her in her studio. She let out a slow breath... this was a 'real Willow' song...? It was so, sexy. Not that Willow's wasn't sexy she quickly amended, she's, beyond sexy, but this song was... sexual, and Tara couldn't help but blush at the thought of the redhead identifying with its passion. Of her moving to this song, her hips swaying seductively to the beat. Flirtatious, sensual... Tara imagined it playing in a dark nightclub, the dance floor filled with grinding partners. Of her and Willow, grinding, sweaty-

Okay, so maybe last night's dream's still with me a little bit, she admitted with a gulp, amazed at how the music and her imagination were teaming up against her. It's just a song, get a grip Tara... The admonishment worked until the midway mark. And then... Tara extended her senses to avoid missing a note as a woman's voice began to speak in verse, a rap that commanded the blonde's attention, despite her usual aversion to the form of delivery.

The woman's voice was powerful, both commanding and desperate, in control and in need, and coupled with that maddeningly erotic drumbeat, and the seductive bassline... 'This lady wants you to take it off, felt that way first time I saw you...' The blonde swallowed hard, her mind latching on to a line about heat turning to frost. She turned and scribbled it down and then leaned back, letting the line spin in her head as the song faded into the background, her skin still tingling at its electric energy. The image of flames and crystalized frost, the blue of the hot fire countered with the blue of the ice, the blue of Willow's sweater... she was so caught up in how she could paint the image that she hardly noticed when the song ended and the next began. It wasn't until the woman's voice started singing that Tara realized and pulled herself out of her thoughts. She hit the back button on her remote, and tried to push the previous song out of her mind. She wanted to hear each song Willow had given her, and she pushed the pad of paper away to avoid the temptation of the previously scribbled line. She sighed, hoping and praying the next tune wasn't as charged. Don't think I can take much more... she thought, feeling as she shifted her legs how worked up she had gotten.

The unassuming acoustic guitar started and Tara settled against the wall to listen, still buzzing from the previous song's oozing sexual undertone. The woman singing the currant song had a pleasant, airy voice... pretty, yet if the blonde thought the lyrics in earlier tunes were raw... 'There's nothing like doubt tearing your mind, to leave you muddled and blind, there's nothing like fear, riding your soul, leave you stone cold.' Tara's stomach twisted. She hated the thought of Willow identifying with those emotions, those thoughts. Before she could further analyze the lyrics and Willow's possible affinity for them, however, the second verse started and her concern was pushed to the side.

'There's nothing like heat, biting your skin, to let you boil from within, nothing like sweat, dripping down your spine, gleaming nights...'

The blonde's stomach twisted again, but in a different way, and her ears perked up as her skin went flush. 'There's nothing like flames, licking in the air, hungry, without a care, licking like tongues, here and there and everywhere...' Oh god... Goosebumps rose off of the blonde's skin and she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. Willow identifying with pain was bad... but identifying with this...? Oh god... Tara internally shuddered, closing her eyes as the chorus began. She pushed the volume button up, increasing the sound until it completely filled the small room, until it drowned out the rain and the now suddenly loud beating of her own heart. Willow...

The blonde was having a hard time concentrating as the third verse began, her mind stubbornly refusing to move on from the line about tongues being everywhere... Willow... Tara shifted her hips slightly and exhaled slowly, her body reacting to the naughty images her mind was unceasingly throwing at her. She had been turned on by the previous song, but now, with the idea of tongues licking like flames, of that being the 'real Willow'; she was soaked. Her eyes closed, and she saw images of Willow's flushed, freckled skin, of her fiery hair matted to her face. Of her lips, slightly parted, her head back and neck exposed. Tara rested her head against the wall and after the briefest fight against what was happening, let her mind go.

And her mind imagined touching Willow.

Of her lips kissing Willow's fleshy backside. Of her tongue following Willow's spine as she moved up the redhead's body, her nipples dragging along the lithe girl's back, causing her to squirm and writhe. Of pressing her hips into Willows rear as her lips closed on the redhead's neck and sucked lightly, the girl moaning beneath her. Of trailing her hand around the swell of the redhead's ass, over her hip and then down between her legs. Of how wet she'd be...

The buzz saw of a modified, distorted electric guitar was introduced into the song, and the layer ratcheted up the tension, the cacophony of sound building as the singer sang about being 'in too deep'... Tara could feel her breath coming in short bursts, the song settling between her legs, humming. In her mind, Willow was bucking into her hand, the redhead's ass grinding into her wet center. The blonde arched her back slightly, careful not to move her hips. If she moved her hips...

The next song started and Tara swallowed hard, embarrassed as she opened her eyes and she realized how far she had just allowed herself to go, how far she might have gone if that song had been any longer. She fumbled with the remote and killed the sound. Too much Willow, she thought in a daze, standing and feeling with some discomfort how aroused she was. Too turned on to keep listening to that... have to... she looked around, her mind still foggy from the vivid daydream. What am I doing down here again? Paint! Have to paint, she thought, looking down to her feet and locating the pad of paper she had been brainstorming on earlier. She picked it up and exhaled again, wiping a hand across her brow. Right, painting... Tara exhaled deeply. Right... She moved to her desk, put the pad of paper down and walked over to her easel, determined to ignore the throb between her legs and work. Traitorous mind... she grumbled, picking up her palette and moving to her case of paint, choosing a number of blues and a near empty tube of white. She squeezed blobs of each onto the oval, and stood, moving back to the canvas. She sighed, and twirled a medium sized brush into the paint, mixing it. She put the brush to the canvas, moving it against the textured surface evenly, and tried to concentrate on the image of frost.