Return to Don't fear the Reaper Chapter Eight



Don't fear the Reaper
CHAPTER NINE: SLIDING TOWARDS THIRD BASE

Author: Useful_Oxymoron
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Well, I don't own Willow or Tara. If I did, I wouldn't have made certain... questionable decisions in the later seasons. In any case, Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own these characters and I don't intend to make any money off them.
Notes: Italics are thoughts.
Oh, and I borrowed two famous cops from equally famous copshows. A virtual cookie to anyone who connects the right cop to the right shows.
I admit it, I blatantly stole Tara's campfire story from a classic line from Frazer in Dad's Army.


Tara watched on in amusement as Dawn and Buffy were locked into a fierce staring contest right next to the firepit. She'd just stepped back into camp, so she had no idea what their fight was about... and, to be honest, she was pretty sure that Buffy and Dawn had forgotten it by now. These two just loved to fight.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Buffy," Dawn huffed, put her hands on her hips and tried to look menacing, but only managing cute.

Buffy, in turn, crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "You're fourteen. That rates 'kid' in my book."

"As if you of all people'd ever crack a book," Dawn retorted.

"Excuse me?!" Buffy huffed. "I read," Buffy narrowed her eyes at her incredulous friends. "I do!"

Dawn saw, came and conquered. "Name the title of the last book you read," she said with a grin.

"Uh..." Buffy sighed in defeat. "'Little Train That Could'? What?! I have a thing for children's books, okay?"

Dawn paced around the camp and stood with her back to the setting sun, bathing herself in orange light. "Look, Buffy. I am not your kiddie sister anymore. I am a woman!"

Buffy raised an eyebrow for a moment. Then snorted. Then bit her lip to keep herself from laughing., much to Dawn's chagrin. Tara could see Willow and Xander sharing a look of unease.

Dawn was not definitely amused. If there was a scale of one to ten, she'd have been at minus four. "Oh, yeah?" she huffed. "Well, Xander sees me as a woman. Don't you, Xander?"

Xander gulped as Buffy turned her full attention to him. Buffy, though a slight woman, radiated pure anger as she gave Xander her patented 'I'm just warning you once, buddy. Don't get your grubby male hands anywhere near my little sister or I'll tear your lungs out and make you wear them as a necklace'-look. Xander held up his hands and backed away... slowly.

"And Willow," Dawn held her chin up. "Willow sees me as a woman too."

Buffy's ire was fully directed at Willow now, her previous look of anger shifting effortlessly into her patented 'I'm just warning you once, girlfriend. Don't get your grubby lesbian mits anywhere near my little sister or I'll tear out your esophagus and strangle you with it'-look.

Willow let out a strangled croak and slowly backed away as well. She bolted for Tara and hid behind her, peeping over Tara's shoulder. "Save me, Tara," Willow giggled.

"Yeah, protect us, Tara," Xander ran to Tara. Both Willow and Xander started to struggle behind Tara's back.

"Hey," Willow huffed at Xander. "This is my Tara! Go find your own to hide behind!"

Buffy was the first to crack a smile. Tara was second. Soon enough, everybody over the age of fourteen was laughing. Xander collapsed to the ground in a fit of laughter, and all the others followed, leaving a huffy Dawn standing in the center of it all, wondering what had just happened to degenerate her oh-so-adult argument into a laughing fit.

When the laughter finally, subsided, it was Dawn that spoke the first: "I don't see what's so funny here."

And the laughter started again.

"Fine!" Dawn spat. "Whatever! I'll just start working on my new fic!" She stormed inside the big tent and zipped it shut behind her.

Tara smiled wholeheartedly as she sat up, taking a moment to brush the dirt and some loose twigs from her slacks. After their refreshing swim, she'd dried herself, changed into a loose-fitting pair of blue slacks and white T-shirt and tied back her honey-blonde hair in a tail. Mostly to Xander's amusement, Willow had chosen a red pair of slacks and white T-shirt, and Xander's jokes had stopped Willow from tying her own hair in a pony to avoid a painful case of 'lovers-wearing-matching-outfits-and-hairdo'-syndrome.

"I wish I had a little sister like Dawn," Tara said softly after sitting down on the trunk of a tree that had been cut down years ago..

Buffy raised an eyebrow, while Willow and Xander started to chat about the latest anecdotes from their perspective workplaces. "Why?" Buffy asked sarcastically.

"I heard that!" Dawn called from the tent.

"It would be so nice to have someone to talk to and to take care of," Tara replied. "Besides, my relationship with my own b-brother is... not so good. I'm the little sister in our house and, well, he uses every opportunity to rub my n-nose in it. He's been nasty to me for as long as I can remember," Tara sighed. "It's j-just that, if I had a little b-brother or s-sister, I'd take care of them like a real big sister should."

Immediately, the big tent zipped open again and Dawn walked out and hugged Tara from behind. "Hey, Tara, if you like, you can be my honorary big sis."

Feeling incredibly touched, Tara squeezed Dawn's hand slightly, but found herself at a loss for words.

"Hey," Buffy looked sour and crossed her arms. "What about me? Me, who happens to be your real big sis?"

"Oh, you don't count, Buffy," Dawn dismissed her sister with a wave of the hand. "You're already my sister."

Tara offered Buffy an encouraging half-smile. "I think it's time for me to try to catch dinner."

"Oh, hey, if you don't catch anything," Willow started, "it'll be no problem, baby. We've brought all sorta food with us we could cook. Uhm, not that I don't think you're a good fisherperson, it's just that we don't wanna put any pressure on you to catch something. Uhm, not that I think you get pressured by us, nossir. It's just that... Okay, I really need to stop talking now, I think."

"Willow," Tara smiled gently while retrieving her a fishing-rod from the tent. "I could listen to you all day long."

Willow blushed slightly while Tara squeezed her shoulder before walking over to their tent to collect her fishing rods. "I don't think it'll take long. Our antics while swimming probably scared all the large bottom-feeders to that cove over there."

"Xander?" Dawn called out. "Can you help me with my story? I'm working on a crossover where Captain Picard ends up in Middle-Earth. I'm not quite sure where to start."

Xander seemed thoughtful for a moment. "Some subspace swirly-thingy might do it. Have Data babble like Willow, but put in a lot of meaningless words."

"Okay, cool," Dawn said. "But I wanna send Picard there with Hermione and Draco."

"Okay, if you send in Picard with those two, I think our baldy captain will throw himself off the first cliff he sees."


"... and all that the police found," Xander said, hovering near the raging campfire. The sun had set and the forest was bathed in moonlight. It had taken some time, but Tara had caught no less than three bass, which Buffy and Dawn had lovingly roasted over the fire. After eating the fish from paper plates, the five friends had decided to perform the time-honored tradition of roasting marshmallows while sharing scary campfire stories. "Was a bloody glass eye, still rolling around in the room..."

"Good story, Xander," Willow smiled. "Certainly made me all goosebump-y."

"Yes," Tara said, while holding a still semi-scared Willow in a snuggly cuddle. "Thanks for the story, Xander."

Xander gave Tara a quick thumb's up. "Not as good as Dawn's wicked witch story, though," Xander said, accepting Dawn's happy smile in response. "So, Tara, you've been very quiet. Don't you have a story?"

Tara frowned for a moment. She checked if her marshmallow was ready to eat, but thought it should roast a bit more. "Well, I do know a s-story. Did I ever told you the story of," she spoke so low it was almost a whisper, "the old... empty... barn?"

"No, you haven't," Willow spoke, with a little excitement in her voice.

"Would you like me to tell you the story of the... old... empty... barn?" Tara grinned wickedly, letting her eyes roam over the others

"Quiet, everybody," Willow shushed her friends. "Tara's gonna tell us a story about the old empty barn."

"Then gather round," Tara spoke softly. "Because this is the story... of the old..." Tara paused, causing her friends to shift forward, looking her deeply in the eyes.

"... empty..." Even closer.

"...Barn..." Closer still, almost touching the fire.

"There was nothing in it!" Tara finished, dead seriously, then started giggling. The giggles proved infectuous and soon they had spread to all her friends.

"Well," Buffy said. "That was a better story than Willow's man-eating frog."

"But very much less horrible than your flesh-eating virus story, Buff," Willow retorted.

Xander nodded. "A good laugh to end the round-up. Could be an nice new tradition. Though I also liked Buffy's vivid descriptions of rotting virus-ridden limbs dropping off bodies."

Dawn shook her head, "You made me listen to that and you still don't want me to see zombie-movies?"

"Hey, seeing is worse than hearing. And I think it's about time to go to sleep," Buffy yawned, not noticing that both Willow and Tara stiffened slightly. "Better load up on the mosquito spray and mosquito milk. They're out there... lurking... waiting... They want my blood."


While Xander, Dawn and Buffy were preparing to go to sleep, Tara and Willow sat at the end of the pier, watching the light of the moon reflecting of the smooth surface of Lake Clarity. The smell, the sights, everything was beautiful. But not as beautiful as the redhead sitting next to her.

Their feet dangled mere inches away from the surface of the water, and Tara found Willow's arm around her waist to feel more than comfortable. Willow had lain her head on her shoulder, and Tara leaned against her. Her smell, her touch... everything was perfect. The moon, the lake, the fireflies dancing above the water and Willow... Everything was so perfect.

Well, Willow was most perfect of everything, obviously.

"I really like your friends," Tara smiled.

"Yes. Me too," Willow said. "Oh, uh, I meant, well, I'm happy you like my friends too. I saw you getting more comfortable... and talk more. Comfortable enough to joke around with them. They're your friends now too, Tara."

"They're accepting... and open," Tara said. "Not that I have much experience with having friends. Before we met, I only had the one: Faith."

"Ah," Willow said, and for a moment, Tara realized that Willow was making small-talk to ease her nerves. Willow's hands were shaking slightly. "Your weird friend Faith?"

"Weird?" Tara raised an eyebrow.

Willow twittered slightly. "Uhm, did I say weird? Cause I meant 'quirky'."

"Faith's been my best friend for years, Willow," Tara replied. "I... hoped you'd get along."

"Oh, we do, we do!" Willow said quickly. "It's just that... Faith's very direct. She's directo-girl. Give her a finger and she'll take your whole hand and all that..."

"Oh, yeah, that's Faith," Tara smiled.

Silence.

More silence.

More Willow trembles.

In response, Tara swallowed hard.

"I, um," Willow blushed brightly. "I should... get ready."

Tara turned to Willow, looking her in the eye. "A-are you n-n-nervous?"

"Me, nervous?" Willow avoided Tara's eyes, while a slight tremor shook through her entire body. "Pish-Posh! Me so no nervous. You?"

Tara looked straight ahead. "N-n-no. N-n-n-n-not at a-a-a-all."

"We're both SO not nervous. Confident in our non-nervosity. Nope, no nervous people here. Just checkin'. Nope, you not nervous, me not nervous. Nervous is for dorks, pffftt..."

"N-no n-n-nervous p-p-people h-h-here."

"Right."

"R-right."

"Nervous? Hah," Willow said while her body practically convulsed as she stood up. "I'll, um, I'll see you soon," Tara remained seated by squeezed Willow's hand for a moment before her lover slowly walked back to her tent.

Tara stood up, took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She figured a few minutes would be enough for Willow to prepare... Though, in this case, that might as well be an eternity.

She was startled to see another Reaper fade into being. As soon as the hood was removed, she saw Faith smirking at her. "Quirky, am I?" Faith chuckled. "Well, that's not so bad. She could have said 'bitch' or 'slut' or 'Columbo groupie'. Hm, actually, I could have lived with being called a 'Columbo groupie'."

"Why are you here, Faith?" Tara asked.

Faith grinned, circled Tara and placed a towel across the honey-blonde's shoulders. "Just encouraging my friend, T. So, remember, she's probably more afraid of you than you are of her."

"Faith," Tara said calmly. "That's bears, not Willow."

"All the more reason to jump right in, take her in your arms and ravish her till daybreak," Faith grinned. "Eye of the Tiger, T! Eye of the Tiger! Though, if you like, I can sit in and give you some pointers afterwards."

"Faith!" Tara bristled. "Don't even think of sitting in on our lovemaking tonight. What are you going do? Grade my performance?"

"Not yours. Willow's," Faith smirked.

"Faith!" Tara hissed, and caught herself before she'd raise her voice too much. Though she was quite a bit away from the tents, sounds carried far in the quiet of the night.

Faith chuckled slightly at Tara's agitation. "Okay, T, okay, I can take a hint and... Wow, who's that? She's gorgeous," Faith looked over Tara's shoulder. Tara followed her gaze and saw Buffy rummaging around the coolbox, probably looking for some more mosquito milk.

"Oh, that's just Buffy, don't you remember?" Tara asked. "I pointed her out when we were at the Espresso Pump last month."

"That's Buffy?" Faith blinked. "I thought you were pointing to that other girl, that airheaded brunette."

"No, that was someone called Cordelia. Willow hates her," Tara said.

"Say," Faith nudged Tara. "You think a gal like her and a gal like me could ever..."

"No."

"That was quick," Faith raised an eyebrow. "I sense a challenge! But lemme get out of your hair, then. You deserve this, T. Go get her!"

After swallowing hard, Tara turned to face the tent, starting the Long March with small steps. Every step felt as if she was wearing weighted shoes, clomping about like a clydesdale. She took note of the cloud of mosquito's patrolling around Buffy's tent, but the moment she stepped off the pier....

Bzzzt. Bzzzt sounded from her pocket. Her pager.

Oh, Goddess, this can't be happening, Tara gritted her teeth. No, no, it's just nerves. My pager isn't beeping, it's all in my head. It's all in your head, Tara.

Bzzzt. Bzzzt sounded again, shattering that illusion.

No. No. NO!

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt

Nooooooo! Damn that Murphy and his stupid law!

She took out her pager and sighed. Faith was upon Tara in a moment. "T, you can't be seriously considering taking this call."

"I... I have to," Tara sighed heavily.

"You're nuts!" Faith grabbed Tara by both shoulders. "Forget about that pager, just go inside that tent and screw that girl for all your worth!"

Tara squeezed her eyes shut. "I... I can do this quickly. Willow'll never know. But my scythe and c-cloak are in the t-t-tent!"

Faith swore violently under her breath, pulled off her cloak and gave it to Tara. After Tara donned it, she threw her her scythe. "Faith to the rescue. You owe me for a container."


Carrying a mixture of anger, frustration, disappointment... and slight relief in her being, Tara teleported into what seemed to be a bedroom. But as soon as she had arrived, all feelings made place for the overwhelming sense of oppressing fear and pain that was trapped in that room.

Oh, Goddess, no!

A murder.

There were some things in her line of work that she would never, ever get used to. Feeling the torrent of trapped emotions coming from the murdered woman was one of them.

Tara rushed to the body lying in the room. She knelt down at the side of a young woman, riddled with bullet-wounds, cut down in the prime of her life. Tara could feel the pain and the fear the woman had experienced at the moment of her death... it bounced off the walls of the room, hitting Tara in waves.

The honey-blonde Reaper took a moment to focus herself as the woman's soul rose from her body. The soul, a glowing orb of white light, was not hovering calmly like usual. Still distressed by the intense emotions, it shook violently in every direction.

"Ssshh," Tara whispered gently. "It'll be alright."

She carefully, very carefully took the distressed soul and pressed it against her chest, rubbing her hand across its surface. "Nobody can hurt you anymore. It's over. It's all over. You're safe now. I'll make sure of it. You're not alone," she whispered. Tara knew that the soul could not hear her words, but she didn't care. She couldn't put the distressed soul in the container like this. She needed to soothe it, calm it down.

It worked. The soul shook less and less violently while Tara continued soothing it. Finally, after a few minutes, the soul of the young woman regained a measure of peace. She put the soul in the container, solving the murder was left for the police. But as Tara got ready to teleport back to her Willow, she almost sniffed death in the air. She sensed she wasn't done here yet.

Suddenly, a windowpane shattered. Tara felt something pass through her ethereal body harmlessly and, after turning around, she saw a bullet lodged in the wall. The honey-blonde Reaper felt a little insulted: the bullet would have gone right through her heart. Don't people look before they shoot?!

Looking back at the window, she saw red and blue lights flashing. Curious, she phased through the wall and let her ethereal body glide down from the second floor. She found a nervous black-haired young man in a Star Wars T-shirt pointing a gun at two cops. The cops, however, were less than impressed. Both seemed to be veteran beat cops, standing next to their car with their own guns pointed at the young man. One of them, a bald, heavyset man with a small moustache wore a nametag which said 'Andy Sipowicz'. The other was a tall, older man with gray hair and creases in his face... he was someone who had seen it all. His nametag read 'Sgt. Phil Esterhaus.'

"I had to do it!" the young man practically snarled. "She laughed at me. ME! Warren Mears!"

"Oh, yeah, right," the cop called Sipowicz gritted his teeth. "So that makes it all alright? I've seen little shits like you come and go all the time. Just put the gun down, you're not impressing anyone here with that little penis-extender of yours."

Tara was angry. Death was in the air, but she didn't feel even an inch of sympathy towards this Warren Mears. He'd murdered a woman, threatened her, let her die in fear and pain, for such a triviality. And, besides that, he was keeping her from her Willow... That was especially vexing.

Come on, die already! Tara narrowed her eyes. Thoughts of Willow sitting in her tent waiting for her, all alone, plagued her to no end. DIE!

"You tell 'im, Andy," Phil Esterhaus replied. "Young people these days... At least in our days, we knew to keep things damn careful out there. And we certainly didn't shoot our girlfriends."

"You can't do this to me! I'm Warren Mears!"

Sipowicz snorted. "Sure, kid, sure. Remember that when a big hairy biker starts calling you Fifi in the middle of the night in cellblock D."

A gunshot sounded.

Warren Mears gulped and looked down at his body, finding a bullet hole where his heart was supposed to be. "My shirt," he gasped mournfully as she dropped like a sack of potatoes, his face landing right in the middle of a piece of dog excrement.

Esterhaus looked at his smoking gun. "Damn arthritis," he sighed. "Good shot, though. I hit Darth Vader right between the eyes."

Sipowicz shrugged. "Kid had a gun, took potshots at us... Case closed. Let's call the meatwagon."

Yoink Tara snatched Warren's soul and unceremoniously stuffed it in a container.


After experiencing those violent emotions, Tara felt almost relieved to go back to feeling just terribly nervous. She returned Faith's cloak and scythe and stashed the two souls somewhere safe. Then, it was time...

Tara zipped open the tent, wondering just was she would find. Well, Willow, obviously, doofus. But... in what state?

"Tara, baby!" Willow smiled radiantly, but Tara could catch just a hint of the worried look that had been marring her features just before Tara had come in. "I was... starting to think you'd... changed your mind."

Tara blinked as she took in the sight of Willow. She was sitting halfway in the two-person sleeping bag, wearing a red, silky bathrobe. And from the look if it, she wasn't wearing anything underneath it, and Tara felt her mouth start to go dry at the mere thought of Willow's soft, creamy skin, covered by that slight piece of fabric. Oh, Goddess, she's so beautiful... No, Tara, no, you're supposed to be the experienced one. You can't melt into a puddle just yet. Just think unsexy thoughts. Think unsexy thoughts. Okay, George W. Bush, linoleum, the smell of gasoline... Mr. Bean... Mr. Bean... Mr. Bean... Mr. Bean... Mr. Bean... Mr. Bean... Dammit, it's not working. Okay... Mr. Bean naked... Mr. Bean naked... Mr. Bean naked... Okay, working now. Breathe, Tara! Breathe!

Next to Willow were a few lamps that simulated flickering candles, while a bottle of wine and two glasses stood next to the sleeping bag. A Discman with two small speakers softly played a Barry White song.

"I, uh, I was... nervous," Tara offered a half-smile. Willow seemed to accept the explanation and reached out a hand, inviting Tara to lie down beside her. Tara couldn't resist and let her hand slide over Willow's arm.

"I, uh," Willow started to say, then bit her lip. "Baby, I..." again, Willow bit her lip. "Love..." Willow let out a croak and trembled even more than before. To Tara's shock, Willow started to cry softly.

"Sssh," Tara took Willow in an embrace. "What's wrong?"

"Everything, I..." Willow sobbed. "It's not going like I thought it would. I..."

She's so scared... I can feel her heart pounding from here, Tara looked Willow deeply in the eyes. "Are you sure you're r-ready for this?"

Willow looked away. "I'm nineteen, Tara. If I'm not ready now... I'll never be. It's just that... it was different when I worked it all out. I... In my original plan," Willow swallowed. "I'd already swept you off your feet with my suave lines and be halfway towards ravishing you by now."

"You made a p-plan?" Tara asked while caressing Willow's cheek. So very Willow.

"I made a very detailed schedule," Willow let the tears flow over her cheeks, leaving them for Tara to wipe away gently. "Using a system of... different colored pens."

"A schedule," Tara raised an eyebrow. "A schedule of our entire n-night together?"

Willow's eyes grew wide for a moment. "No, no, not... that. Just... the stuff leading up to, um, that, not the... smoochies bit. Cause, um, I don't know much about the smoochies bit. I, um, even wrote down everything I was going to say to you."

Willow lay on the pillow and sighed heavily. "At the lake... everything went so... well... so natural. I don't get it, what's different now?"

"Natural?" Tara chuckled. "Willow, I almost drowned you."

"You know what I mean," Willow smiled in spite of herself.

"I think," Tara said, making Willow jump as she let her hands slide over her body until they settled at the string keeping her lover's robe closed, "we need to t-throw the schedule out of the window."

To Tara it was like unwrapping a present at christmas morning. Willow lay still of a board, her expression jumping from freaked to aroused... to both. Tara felt her own heart skip a beat when the ribbon was finally loose.

She slowly rubbed her fingers underneath the fabric and slowly, as to make the feeling of anticipation last forever, slid the red fabric off Willow's body

Tara could see that Willow's first instinct was to dive into the sleeping bag and wrap it around her as if she'd be a tight little cinnamon bun. She herself was transfixed... she'd never seen so much of Willow's creamy soft skin unexposed all at once. She's a goddess. I can't believe she thinks so lowly of herself sometimes. Willow nervously crossed her arms around her chest and was looking at Tara intently.

"Willow," Tara whispered. "Y-you're so b-beautiful."

Willow's smile spread slowly, but surely. "Really?" she asked, sounding almost incredulous, as if she didn't believe her Tara.

"Really, believe it," Tara confirmed. "My t-turn," Tara said and lifted her shirt over her head. This time, it was Tara's turn to feel somewhat self-conscious. Though she was still wearing her bra, she'd never revealed this much of herself to Willow. I hope she's not... totally disappointed... Tara thought.

"Hmmm," Willow smile, blushing bright red while the tips of her fingers touched Tara's stomach. "Tara-tummy."

Feeling bold, Tara shifted closer to Willow, close enough to be able to embrace her. She looked Willow deeply in the eyes and started to lean in for a kiss.

"Wait!" Willow said. Oh, Willow, please tell me you haven't changed your mind. I'm not sure if I can stop now, love.

"Before we, um, make love," even those words made Willow blush violently. "I just wanna say... that I love you, Tara. I... want us to be together. Well, obviously, we're already together, I mean, we practically live together already, but, I meant... this feels so right. Us being together feels so wonderful. I want to be a couple, Tara, and..."

Tara silenced Willow's babble with a kiss. A hungry kiss. Though, at first Willow was overwhelmed, she started to kiss Tara back with equal intensity soon enough. "Oh, Willow," Tara managed between kisses. "I love you so much..."

With Willow pressing against her, Tara felt her hands sliding across her back, until they ended up at the clasp of Tara's bra. Sensing Willow's intent, she decided to give Willow easier access by moving downward to suckle on Willow's neck, so she could at least see what she was doing.

Willow fumbled with Tara's bra while she gently bit along Willow's shoulder. Tara felt her bra snap against her back.

Tara, in turn, made Willow shudder when she moved up again, and gently let her tongue circle Willow's earlobe. "Ah!" Willow exclaimed and, again, Tara felt her bra snap against her back.

A hand laying on Willow's hip, Tara continued her assault on Willow's earlobe with double intensity, capturing it gently between her teeth and suckling on it. "Dammit," Willow cursed and, for the third time, Tara felt her bra snap against her back.

Looking at Willow's face, Tara saw her biting on her tongue and narrowing her eyes, frustration practically radiating from her expression. Tara couldn't resist and giggled for a moment, but upon seeing a flash of hurt crossing Willow's eyes, she stopped giggling and shook her head. "Sorry, sweetie," she said, "but... you just l-l-looked like you were r-reaching around the back of the TV to adjust the a-aerial."

Willow chuckled briefly in spite of herself. "Sorry, baby," she said. "It's just that... your gorgeous breasts are trapped forever in that evil bra, cause of my badness at bra-opening."

"I'll stop for a moment, okay?" Tara smiled gently. "No distractions."

Willow tried unhooking the clasp of Tara's bra for a few moments. After a few moment of trying, the clasp flew open for Willow to claim her prize. At first, Willow was afraid to touch her lover, but in the end curiosity and the fact that she'd been fantasizing about his for months now, won out. Tara brushed brightly when she felt one of Willow's hands gently cupping one of her breasts.

Willow was growing bolder, and Tara realized this was the beginning of a wonderful night.


Just outside Willow and Tara's tent, Faith stood smirking in her ethereal state. The sounds coming from the tent were unmistakably that of the horizontal lambada. Oh, yeah, T's having fun with Red. And the other way around. Lotsa lesbian-y fun all around. Damn, making me jealous here, T.

Faith figured it was just about time to make herself scarce when Barry was turned off and the sounds intensified. She was about to teleport away when she changed her mind at the very last moment.

Hm, Faith rubbed her chin for a moment. I wonder what Buffy's wearing to bed tonight. Let's check it out...


Xander and Dawn were enjoying the morning sun, watching from a distance as Willow and Tara were preparing breakfast for the group. They watched Willow sitting down next to Tara, handing her a cup of tea. She hugged her lover closely for a while, taking the moment to kiss the top of Tara's head before she, reluctantly, had to break away to check on the eggs. Tara held on to her lover's hand as long as possible before Willow was out of reach. As soon as she had checked on the eggs, Willow sat down next to Tara again, whom immediately claimed the redhead's lips.

"All those get a room-yness vibes yesterday finally make sense," Xander smiled. "I'm so happy for Will."

"I'm happy for both of them," Dawn added. "They're so in love. It's so sweet... Oh, I feel ideas for storylines coming up."

"Nobody deserves this more than Will does," Xander said.

"Hey, guys," Buffy yawned as she stepped out of the tent. "'S up?"

"Willow and Tara slept together," Dawn stated bluntly.

Buffy blinked in response. "What? When?"

"Last night, Buff," Xander replied.

Buffy blinked again. "Huh? Are you sure? Because I usually pick up on these things and there weren't any signs at all yesterday."

"My sister Buffy the Clueless," Dawn sighed. "If they ever make a movie out of your life, you'd be played by Alicia Silverstone."

"I just slept really horrible," Buffy said. "I got the feeling someone was watching me all night. And copped a feel. Oddest thing, though, there's not a mosquito bite on me, there were loads of dead mosquito's lying next to my sleeping bag. I guess the mosquito milk really works, huh?"

"Well," Xander smirked. "At least you won't be scratching while driving. Maybe we won't crash the car this time around."

Xander received a playing slug to the arm, while Willow and Tara were oblivious to it all.


Continue to Don't fear the Reaper Chapter Ten


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