Days of Grace Chapter 08

[xxmadlaxx]

Feedback:  Yes, please! 
Spoilers: Everything BtVS. 
Pairing: Willow/Tara
Author’s Notes:  This story takes place years after the last season of BtVS, but any references to Willow as she appeared in the Angel series will be pretty vague, if not non-existent.  In this story, Willow eventually left the Scoobies (though she kept in touch and often drops by to visit) and traveled pretty widely, returning to the coven in Devon several times.  Her last stay there lasted for more than a year. 
Summary:  Years later, Willow returns briefly to the place that was Sunnydale.

CHAPTER EIGHT:

That night, Tara’s sleep was fitful again, but deep. Exhaustion from her crossing and the last couple of days was finally catching up with her. But when she woke up, she still felt uneasy and regretful.

All of that vanished when she met Dawn downstairs, and the girl relayed Willow’s message while Tara quickly made breakfast.  The Wiccan was relieved. She was afraid that she had ruined things yesterday with the impulsive kiss.

A few minutes later, Dawn was taking the car keys and was on her way out the door, explaining that she wanted to leave early since she’d never driven to the local airport before.  Then she casually mentioned that Willow had asked to be woken before Buffy’s arrival.

“I’m kinda in a rush though. Don’t want to be late,” she said cheerfully as she checked her watch. “Can you do it?”

Before Tara could even open her mouth to respond, the young woman was already halfway to the car.

And that was how the witch found herself standing outside her former girlfriend’s room. Her stomach was trying very hard to do handstands and somersaults. What if she’s still mad? Dawn said she wasn’t, she even apologized, but what if...

She took a deep breath, and knocked. “Willow?”  When no one answered, she turned the knob and quietly stepped inside.  “Will...?” Her voice trailed as her eyes fell on the peacefully slumbering redhead tangled in the sheets of the king-sized bed.

Oh my goddess, she’s so... Tara was riveted to the spot, lost in the sight of the woman she knew she would love forever. There were so many changes, tiny ones, but collectively they were undeniable. Of course she’d noticed them before, in glimpses over the years, in the moments when she’d first woken to this world. But this was the first time that she was free to observe completely and without distraction.

Her eyes were drawn to the glorious flame of Willow’s hair, spilling to the middle of her back, longer than it had ever been when they were together. She stared longingly at the face whose collective features veered towards resolute now, even in sleep, and at the form that used to verge on skinny. The latter, specially, had changed in subtle ways, fulfilling its promise of slim litheness, hinting at curves more rounded under the loose-fitting sleepwear.

Then there were the features that were as familiar to Tara as yesterday: the slightly possessive way a Willow-hand was draped around a pillow, the creamy paleness of a redheaded woman’s skin, dusted with freckles, the arching brows and thick lashes over eyes that could turn jade or emeralds or the deep Amazon of a rainforest, and the widow’s peak that framed the sweet, heart-shaped face.

Another memory rose. It wasn’t one Tara had lost, only something that her mind was choosing to retrieve at this moment. I used to wake early, just to catch her like this.

Their last year together had been so hectic, what with school, taking care of Dawn, Willow leading the Scoobies and constantly tinkering with the Buffy-bot.  Each of those things could’ve easily been full-time activities, and it amazed Tara that her girlfriend had been able to organize their lives so that everything fit and almost nothing, especially Dawn, was ignored. It meant, though, that Willow was constantly in demand.

Not that Tara minded. The Scoobies were her family, and they needed their witches, but...from the time the sun colored the morning to the moment the alarm clock rang in another busy day, Tara savored the simple pleasure of holding Willow in her arms and watching her sleep. For that precious half-hour, her lover was hers alone. It was her private rite, her Willow-time, and she never told Willow about it because she knew the redhead would feel guilty that such a ritual was even necessary.

In repose, Willow’s usually animated features were relaxed, almost serene. It had always made her look younger than she was, and back in those days Tara used to tease the redhead that she could pass for sixteen in her sleep. “Should I be careful, sweetie? I wouldn’t want to be accused of corrupting a minor,” she joked.

Willow had been mostly embarrassed by the teasing, but once she’d woken early, too, and caught Tara watching her. On that day, she had returned her lover’s sallies with a smoldering look. “And if you had met me at sixteen,” she’d asked, “would you have been able to resist?”

And something about that question, the rough, drowsy timbre of Willow’s voice, already certain of the answer, the emerald challenge in her eyes, took Tara’s breath away. She leaned over quickly to cover her lover’s body with her own, and they had made love that morning with an abandon that surprised them both. Their passion had led to sly, secretive smiles all day and to a barely restrained repeat that night.

But that had been before Buffy’s resurrection, before the complications, before Tara had lost Willow to magic, and then, so many countless weeks and months later, gloriously reclaimed her. Before Tara’s death.

‘This is no longer that time,’ the Wiccan chided herself, as her sight swept tenderly over the redhead in the strong morning light. No, Willow would never pass for sixteen again. The girl that Tara had known was gone, and in her place was a striking, complex woman.

‘I haven’t been a part of her life for so long,’ she thought sadly. By this point, the years Willow had spent without her were more than double the length of time they’d spent together. ‘She was right last night. She learned to live without me.’ Her forehead crinkled. ‘Is that why I’ve felt so unbalanced since I got here? Is that why I kissed her?”

Was that it, pure selfishness on her part, an impulsive, misguided attempt to reclaim Willow in some way? But even wracked by guilt, Tara knew that it wasn’t anything so simple. She had initially woken thinking that they were still together, with no way of knowing otherwise. The  realization that they weren’t, that she had died and years had passed, had been overwhelming. But now that her memory was returning, so was something else.

If the redhead had never had the chance to stop loving her, how much more true was that for Tara? Neither death nor the Summerland had lessened her love for Willow. In that place, that state, there had been no need for her to move on. Then, when she had followed the First back to this plane, she had been able to watch over the woman she loved, but not much else. Now, having Willow this close, and having arms, face, hands and lips with which to touch her, it was all the witch could do not to reach for her, to show her in every way that...

“I will always be yours,” Tara whispered.

How could she not want to express those feelings in these precious few days they’d been given? How could she stop wanting this woman, when just a glance from those liquid green eyes - eyes she once thought despairingly would be forever blind to her - made every fiber of this very physical body sing?

Willow shifted in her sleep, interrupting Tara’s train of thought. “The toaster’s running away...”

The Wiccan smiled. At least some things haven’t changed. She cleared her throat, and touched the woman’s shoulder briefly. “Wake up, sweetie. Buffy’s on her way.”

The hacker burrowed deeper into her pillow. “Don’t wanna.”

Goddess, how cute can she be?  “Willow...”

“Mmrph. 5 more minutes?”

“Okay,” Tara agreed indulgently.

A minute later, it gradually sank into Willow’s consciousness that Tara hadn’t moved, was still standing patiently by the bed. “Whatcha doing?” she mumbled.

“Letting you sleep. Watching you a little...did you pull an all-nighter again?” Tara asked in a slightly scolding tone as she moved Willow’s omnipresent laptop off the bed.

“Uhuh.”

“You sleep in the middle now.”

“Huh?” Willow asked groggily. A curious green eye lazily popped open.

“You used to sleep on the left.” There used to be room for me, came the unbidden thought.

As if Willow had heard her, she murmured, “Took me awhile to get used to it, you know, sleeping alone. Which is funny when you think about it, ‘coz I’ve slept by myself most of my life.” She finally opened both eyes to look at the witch.  “It still feels better, you know, you sleeping next to me. I think you pretty much ruined the ‘whole-bed-to-myself’ experience for me, Tara Maclay.”

“I know. It feels like that for me, too,” the blonde confessed. “The first night I got back I wished...” She stopped and bit her lip.

“Hey.” Willow propped herself up on her elbows, fully awake now. “This is me, remember? You can always say anything to me. That doesn’t have to change.”

Encouraged, Tara continued shyly, “I think...because this all feels so new, so different? That first night I was hoping you’d ch-change your mind about um...staying in separate rooms. I wanted...it would’ve been nice to be h-held.”

“You wanted...?” Suddenly the redhead’s expression turned stricken. “Oh God, of course you did! How insensitive can I be?”

“What?” The tall woman looked at her blankly.

“Of course you wouldn’t want to be alone on your first night back. You were floaty and incorporeal for so long, this back in your body stuff must be strange and jarring. And here I am, being all ‘let’s go to our separate rooms’ and -”

“Willow!” Tara cut in hastily. If the redhead’s guilt were any less heartfelt, she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from laughing. “It’s not like that. It was just something that would’ve made me feel better. I know you were being considerate, giving me my own room. And anyway,” she took a deep breath, “I u-understand that you couldn’t. I mean, s-since you’re with somebody...”

The hacker’s guilty expression turned into a puzzled one. “That’s the second time you’ve said that.”

“It’s okay, really,” Tara reassured her. “It’s more than okay, it’s - it’s good. You’re supposed to move on.”

“Are you talking about Kennedy? You remember her now?” Willow asked gently. “But you don’t remember that we...I mean that she and I, that we broke up?” she surmised.

“Y-you did?” Astonished blue eyes met green.

“More than a year ago,” the redhead confirmed.

“But I remember seeing the two of you talk to Giles in England,” Tara said in bewilderment. “I think that was less than a year ago.”

“Well that’s possible.  We’re still friends and Kennedy visits England a lot.” A teasing grin blossomed on Willow’s face. “You must not have been watching that closely,” she quipped, “if you missed our spectacular fights.”

“N-not all,” Tara admitted apologetically. “Sorry, I tried not to watch whenever things between the two of you got p-private, but sometimes I was just sort of there,” she explained, embarrassed. “I stayed with Dawn most of the time, because she really needed someone. I thought, since you were with Kennedy, you were okay.”

“I was - am. Kennedy helped me a lot,” Willow said as she sat up on the bed, “but eventually we had to admit that our relationship wasn’t working out. There’s no one, Tara,” she continued in a more serious tone. “I wouldn’t have kissed you yesterday if there was.”

“I was the one who kissed you,” the blonde reminded her timidly.

“I wasn’t exactly struggling to get away,” the hacker returned. “Which brings us to my apology of the day. I’m sorry I freaked.” Willow remembered the conversation she’d had with Dawn last night, and she had to admit the girl had a point. Tara should at least know why she was being so skittish. “It’s just, I think I’m still... adjusting? Words can’t describe how happy I am that you’re here, but at the same time there’s a part of me that’s sort of, I don’t know, surprised? Like I can’t believe this is really happening, and I’m waiting for the hammer to fall. I know that sounds confusing, but do you get it at all?”

The witch nodded. “I do. I’m sorry about the kiss. I shouldn’t have done that. You were feeling sad, and I...I t-took advantage...”

“No! No, I liked the kiss,” Willow reassured her swiftly. “Don’t even think like that. Tara-kissage, always a good thing. Only...” she continued in a smaller voice, “would you understand if I said I’m not ready? I can’t handle taking this further and then losing you again. Gods, that sounds so bigheaded, like I’m just assuming that’s what you want. It’s not that I expect... I need time to get used to you being back.”

“So do I.” Tara smiled.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Willow nodded happily. “That said, and given that there’s no relationship issue, if you still want to, I could um...stay with you tonight? Or - or we could stay here. Whichever you like.”  Such a simple question, but it felt like her heart was stuck in her throat.

The blue eyes went wide. “Willow?”

“Just to sleep!” she clarified, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. “I mean, if you’re having trouble...if you still want to be held then...Do you? Because it’s also okay if you don’t anymore...”

“Oh no, it’s not that,” Tara answered. “I’ve wanted to since I got back, like I told you. I’ve...actually had trouble sleeping because, you know, I’m not used to being alone either, not when you’re just in the next room,” she said shyly, “but, are you s-sure? I don’t want to rush.”

“There’s no rushing,” Willow said firmly. “Think of it as a sleepover. We used to do those a lot before we got together.”

You mean you used to sleep while I stayed awake half the night trying to keep my hands to myself. Ah those early days. No doubt who fell for whom first. The blonde witch favored her with a lopsided grin. “I’d like that.”

The answering smile on Willow’s face was dazzling. “Okay then.” She got up. “So Buffy’s on her way?”

“Her flight’s coming in soon. Dawn already left to get her.”

“Time for a quick shower then, and oh, do I get to cook you breakfast today?”

Tara shook her head. “Already done.”

“Darn,” Willow said with genuine disappointment. “I’m not being a hospitable host, am I?”

“It’s alright. I like cooking breakfast, you know that. Besides,” Tara waved at the laptop, “you were up all night doing Scooby work. Why don’t you meet me downstairs, tell me what you found?”

The redhead quickly grabbed some clothes. “Be right with you,” she promised, as the woman nodded and headed towards the door.

***

Willow was actually humming when she darted nimbly down the stairs ten minutes later.  She didn’t even bother to dry her hair, just combed it out and hoped it would behave today. She sniffed appreciatively. “Pancakes?”

Tara shook her head.  The redhead’s enthusiasm made her grin. “Waffles today. I d-don’t want you to get tired of the pancakes.”

“Not a possibility,” Willow declared. “It’s going to take longer than - I mean, it’ll be a really long time before I get enough of those.” Something sad flashed in her eyes, but she determinedly banished the emotion to concentrate on breakfast. “Yum.”

“Glad you like it.” Tara caught the fleeting expression, but said nothing. Truth to tell, she was still a little dazed from Willow’s revelation that she wasn’t with anybody anymore. Not to mention the prospect of actually sleeping with her... “So did you find anything useful last night?”

Willow harrumphed over her mouthful of waffle. “Too many things, like I expected.”

“You got that much from the `Net?” the blonde asked, thinking she hadn’t seen any books this morning.

“Oh no, I logged into the Council network last night. It’s one of the projects we were working on in England,” the hacker explained, “trying to scan as much of the library as we could into searchable digital format so we can access it from anywhere. Just the safe stuff, of course, references, histories, absolutely no how-to books in case the system’s compromised. It took me an hour just to cut the search down to something with less than a thousand hits.”

“Let me help,” Tara offered. “I’m not as good as you, but at least I don’t think of computers as ‘infernal machines.’” They exchanged grins at her mimicry of Giles.

“You’d be surprised. I actually convinced Giles to email,” Willow said proudly. “He’ll even reply if you give him a couple of days.”

“No! Really?” Tara leaned forward in disbelief. “How’d you -?”

Suddenly, they heard a door slam, the distinctive thud of a heavy bag hitting the wooden floor, and Dawn shouting, “Hey, we’re home! Where is everyone?”

“We’re here, in the kitchen!” Willow turned back excitedly to her companion, only to find Tara blinking back tears. “What’s wrong?” she asked in alarm.

“Nothing.” The blonde wiped her eyes. “For a moment, I just...”

She didn’t need to say anything more. Willow understood instantly. It wasn’t exactly like this, but it was close. How many times had they asked Dawn not to dump her stuff on the floor when she got back from school?  How many nights had the girl returned late enough to find the two of them already sharing a meal? And it was always a habit of hers, announcing her arrival the minute she was through the door.

Willow slowly reached across the table and squeezed Tara’s hand. “It’s okay,” she said softly.

“I know,” she answered. “These are h-happy tears.”

“That’s alright then.” The redhead drew her hand back with a smile. The smile grew broader as another voice sounded off, this time full of impatience.

“Dawn, just leave the bags already! We’ll get them later! Where are they?”

“Over here, Buffy!” Willow called.

In seconds, the tiny blonde Slayer was sweeping into the kitchen. She froze as she caught sight of Tara, who slowly got to her feet. “Oh my God, it is true!” she said in breathless amazement. “It’s really you.”

“H-hello, Buffy.” Tara smiled tentatively.

“I can’t believe it. Are you really...?” Buffy’s eyes filled with tears as she moved forward to hug the woman. Just as abruptly, she stopped. “Is it okay if I...?”

“You can touch her,” Willow replied softly, guessing what was making her friend hesitate. “She’s not going to fade away.”

Tara nodded and opened her arms, and found them full of Slayer in the next instant.

“We missed you so much!”

“I m-missed you, too.”

Buffy released her after awhile, wiping tears. “Dawn says you’ve been watching over her? I can’t believe she never told me about that.”  She turned to Willow. “And speaking of secrets - you!”

“Me?” the hacker squeaked.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were coming back, huh?” Buffy asked accusingly, stepping towards the redhead.

“I was, I was! I just, you know, wanted to make a stop first,” Willow explained nervously, backing off from the menacing monster fighter. “I was going to call you right after.”

“Not good enough,” Buffy pronounced. “Best friends are entitled to more than that, even if their friends happen to turn into famous witchy authors.”

“I’m not famous,” the redhead protested.

“That’s not what Giles and Dawn tell me, and don’t change the subject!” Buffy placed her hands on her hips in perfect Slayer-pose and glared at her friend. “I haven’t seen you in more than year. I should’ve been informed the second you landed. No, make that, the second you decided to fly back. Oh, come here!”

Suddenly it was Willow’s turn to be enveloped in a bone-crushing, Slayer-worthy bear hug. “Buff...” she gasped, “need to...breathe.”

“Whoops, sorry!” Buffy let go and watched cheerfully as the hacker wheezed.

Willow’s look said she wasn’t convinced that the force of her best friend’s embrace was entirely accidental. “I guess the...flight was okay?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.

“Except for the security measures. Flying is really a pain these days. No way to even sneak a stake in,” the Slayer complained. “All I had in my handcarry was a cross and 3 ounces of holy water.  I felt practically naked the entire flight. Oh, are those pancakes I smell?”

“W-waffles,” Tara said.

Buffy beamed. “You are a lifesaver,” she declared. “Literally. They gave us nothing but peanuts and cookies on that flight. I hope they fed you better on the flight from London, Will...”

Dawn nearly walked in at that moment. She was entirely prepared to say something snarky about Slayer strength and Buffy’s unseemly amount of luggage, but stopped when she took in the sight of the three women laughing and passing plates around the small kitchen. She felt herself tearing up, but held back. It had been a long time since she had seen something so...incandescent. No matter that the scene was so ordinary; she wanted it to be burned into her memory forever.

So this, she thought to herself, is happiness. I’m happy. We all are, Scooby jinx be damned.  She watched each of them carefully in turn.  Buffy, who suddenly looked young and carefree, with not a worry in the world. Willow, who was busy regaling the two blondes with funny stories of Giles and England. Tara, whose smile was morning-bright and whose eyes sparkled every time they fell on the redhead.

Thank you for giving my sisters back to me, Dawn thought silently. Then she stepped inside to join them.