An Indecent Proposal

PAIRINGS: Tara/Anya

RATING: PG-13

FEEDBACK: Very welcome, to [email protected]

SPOILERS: Everything up to Tabula Rasa.

DISTRIBUTION: Ask me first - but I'm going to say yes.

DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine, but I haven’t hurt any one (well, I hurt their dignity a tiny bit).

There was a knock on the door.

Tara sighed. She really, really didn’t want to see anyone. She’d spoken to Buffy on the phone, told her where she was, said that she was okay, asked after Dawn - but that was as much communicating as she was up to.

There was another knock, rather impatient.

Please God, don’t let it be Willow.

“I know you’re in there Tara. Stop hiding. I have an offer for you.”

Prayer answered, sort of. It was Anya instead. Although the idea of coping with Anya, and her “tact” right now was a mighty unattractive one. Just for a minute she toyed with the idea of keeping silent, waiting for her to go away. But Anya was not the type to take a hint. She would keep on knocking, Tara just bet.

She dragged herself reluctantly to her feet, and slouched over to the door, slipped the catch. Anya brushed past her.

“At last! Keeping people waiting is rude, you know.” Anya turned and put a hand on her hip. Tara closed the door reluctantly, and rested her back against it. Anya was looking particularly... dressed up. Hair, make-up, clothes. All very spiffy. Maybe she and Xander have a date, thought Tara wistfully.

“Sorry,” she said, “Don’t know what came over me.”

Anya tilted her head, and gave Tara a hard look from expertly mascara-ed eyes. “Was that sarcasm?”

Tara felt a little smile quirk on her lips, “More like a bit of gentle irony. I’m not much for the sarcasm.”

Anya’s face took on a pleased look. “Irony, eh? And only mild irony? I am getting much, much better at spotting this saying one thing, meaning another nonsense.” She tapped her own chest, “ I am a very quick learner.”

“Yep,” said Tara, “Smart as a whip.”

“More mild irony!” exclaimed Anya. “I can see it coming now! This is really most encouraging.”

“Happy to help,” said Tara, “but I’m not really feeling all that social right now.” She gestured to the door meaningfully. “So, if you could kinda make a long story short...”

Anya immediately looked concerned. “Oh, yes. You are feeling depressed and isolated because your girlfriend has been using magic against you and betraying your trust.” She gazed unblinkingly at Tara. “I empathise,” she said firmly.

“Really,” said Tara, moving restlessly away from the door, and rubbing her hands. “Have you ever had your mind magically altered by your girlfriend? Twice.”

“Well, really,” said Anya, empathy forgotten, “how am I supposed to know that?” She rolled her eyes, “Any girlfriend of mine evil enough to do those spells would also have been competent enough to do them right.”

Tara shivered, imagining how she could still be in happy ignorance. Still living with Willow, still sleeping in her bed, still loving her, and all of it a lie... her mind veered away to a safer topic.

“I didn’t know you’d had a girlfriend,” she said.

“Loads of ‘em,” said Anya cheerfully. “More boyfriends of course - but I’ve been around for nearly two thousand years, you know. After a while anything is worth doing.”

“Oh well, thanks a lot,” said Tara, pushing past Anya. She turned to face her defiantly. “Thanks for dismissing lesbianism as something you might be desperate enough to resort to after a thousand years or so.”

Anya frowned. “That’s outright sarcasm,” she said disapprovingly, “I can spot that a mile off, now. And I’m not a Lesbian.”

“Obviously not,” said Tara, folding her arms angrily.

“But I would like to have sex you. Right now in fact.”

Tara’s mouth gaped open. “What! Why, why did just say that? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Anya bridled. “Well, I don’t see why you’re so offended. You should be flattered. People are flattered when other attractive people,” she patted her carefully set hair, “find them sexually attractive.”

“You find me, sexually attractive?” said Tara, floundering.

“Yes,” said Anya, “You have beautiful skin, and lovely cheekbones, and I bet that your breasts are delightful, although I haven’t really seen enough of them to judge.” She gazed at Tara’s breasts admiringly. “You also have a morally responsible character,” she added, apparently running through a mental checklist, “Oh, and a excellent sense of humor. I do not only find you attractive because of your breasts.”

“Anya,” said Tara, speaking slowly and carefully, “You are engaged to Xander.”

“Why should that stop me liking your breasts?” said Anya, “oh, and your excellent sense of humor.”

“It doesn’t stop you liking my breasts....” Tara broke off, and blushed deeply as she heard herself say the words.

“And your excellent sense of humor,” said Anya helpfully.

“Will you shut up about my sense of humor!” shouted Tara.

“I just don’t want you to think I am one dimensional,” said Anya, offended.

“My point,” said Tara slowly, “is that, although you may notice sexually attractive traits in other people, when you are engaged to someone else, you should shut up about it - and you certainly shouldn’t proposition them for sex.... especially when they have just had their hearts broken, and are feeling all vulnerable.” And then she burst into tears, and sank down on to the bed.

Anya looked at her helplessly for a minute, then sat beside her, and patted her shoulder half heartedly. “I thought it might take your mind off things,” she said, looking worried. “You know, meaningless comfort sex with a friend. There was a whole big article about it in Cosmopolitan.”

Tara sniffed a bit more, and then she began to hiccup. Anya slapped her sharply between the shoulder blades, relieved to have an excuse to stop the patting.

“Ow!” said Tara, “but thanks, I think.” The next hiccup turned into snort, the snort into a laugh. “Cosmo, huh?” she said. “You got the idea from Cosmo?” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “Oh, my. Now that’s irony .” She turned suddenly and hugged Anya, then held her by the shoulders. “It was a very kind offer,” she began carefully, “and well-intentioned - and I’m flattered you like my... that you find me attractive . But it really wouldn’t be appropriate.” And then her self control gave way and she burst into giggles again.

“You find my offer amusing?” said Anya, her shoulders hunching under Tara’s hands, and her eyes flashing dangerously.

“It’s my excellent sense of humor,” said Tara, and then she laughed some more.

The End

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