Title: Slipping, Tripping, and Falling in Love

Author: LadyB

Rating: I’m going to say a maximum of “R” for now, but I reserve the right to change it later, if needed.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything but my own thoughts.  All characters, quotes, and references to BtVS are owned by Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon, Fox, UPN, et al.  Song lyrics in chapter 4a belong to Basement Jaxx.  Song lyrics in chapter 5c belong to the Divinyls.

Distribution: Pens and my site http://www.geocities.com/ladybrym/index.html

Spoilers: I don’t think there are any, really.

Summary: A mostly non-angsty piece of fiction.  Pretty much AU…Tara and Willow are University Professors and are not residents of the Hellmouth.  The course of love doesn’t always run smooth, especially for the neurotic and accident-prone.

 

Prologue:

 

“Hoo boy, this’ll be interesting,” Tara mused as she stopped at the doorway of the elegant conference/dining hall.  Looking at a sea of faces she didn’t know, but will soon enough, she mustered up her courage and decided to step in.  Spotting the bar, the blonde made a beeline for what looked like a row of glasses filled with white wine.  “I probably shouldn’t, but…,” she looked around to see most of the other guests with a glass of some sort in their hands.  “I could use a little liquid courage.”  Putting the glass to her lips, she took generous sip, relaxing a bit as the cool wine spread warmth down her throat to her butterfly-infested stomach.  “Well, here goes nothing.”  Tara began to walk towards a group of her new co-workers when a voice stopped her.

 

“Tara!  How wonderful, you made it!”  It was the University’s Dean, Johnson Riggs.  “I was afraid you would miss your first Pre-Term Faculty Happy Hour.”

 

Tara smiled at the man who helped her get her new position at the University.  “Well, my flight did run late, but I made it anyway.  Gotta love those little propeller planes, you know, the ones so small that if you remove the outer steps, it tips over on one side.  Ugh.”

 

“Yes, those can be a bit scary, but at least you didn’t have a semi-psychotic flight attendant like I did on my last trip.  First off, it looked like she had either applied her makeup with a trowel or she had just come from moonlighting as a rodeo clown.  Second, I think she took pleasure in intentionally driving the beverage cart over any feet even millimeters into the aisle.  And to top it all off, she was still wearing those giant oven mitts when saying goodbye to all the passengers as they stepped off the plane.”  Tara’s expression was priceless as she envisioned the pictures Dean Riggs painted with his words.

 

“Ok, you win.  I’d rather have the little plane.”  Tara took another sip of her wine, glad that the Dean found her.  ‘A familiar face, thank the Goddess.  I wish he’d introduce me to the other faculty,’ she silently hoped.

 

“Tara, why don’t I introduce you to some of the other faculty members.  Get to know them a bit.”  Dean Riggs took a gentle hold of her elbow as if to begin walking toward the group, but waited for her answer.

 

“Yes, that would be great.  Thank you.”  She smiled at the Dean and let him lead the way.  ‘Hey, it worked,’ Tara thought and laughed softly.  “I wish for a million dollars.”

 

“What was that Tara?”  The Dean looked at Tara, a bit puzzled.

 

“Oh!  Uh, nothing.”  Tara blushed, realizing she had actually voiced her silly request.  Hoping that would pacify the confused Dean, she silently berated herself.  ‘Nice going, Maclay.  Let’s scare the Dean the night before your first official day.’

 

The Dean laughed.  “Ok, well then, let’s get the introductions started.”  As they walked up to the group circled around the cheese and cracker table, the blonde took a few deep breaths, preparing herself.  Dean Riggs cleared his throat, drawing attention to the group.  “Everyone, I’d like you to meet the newest member our University’s esteemed faculty, a Professor of Anatomy and Physiology, Miss Tara Maclay.”

 

All eyes were on Tara as she waved hello to her fellow faculty members.  She couldn’t help but chuckle watching them try to relay a mumbled chorus of “Hmlllo” or “Heympph” through mouthfuls of cheese, crackers and sushi.  Tara let them finish chewing before she attempted to address her peers.  Once everyone seemed to be food-free, she decided to get it over with.  “Thank you.  I’m very happy to be a part of this esteemed University.  I look forward to meeting and getting to know you all.”  The faces in the room smiled warm smiles and motioned for her to join them.  Relieved that the introductions were over, she accepted the invitation, walked a few steps closer and reached for a piece of spicy tuna roll.

 

Over two hours later, Tara was exhausted, if not a bit lightheaded.  She’d spent the time getting to know the majority of the faculty members, a good portion of them from the science department.  A few she spoke to were quite helpful, perhaps too helpful, as they kept filling up her wine glass, not letting it get even remotely empty.  Tara took sporadic sips, but still ended up ingesting quite a bit of the dry chardonnay.  She looked at her watch, realized what time it was and began wrapping up the conversation she was in.  A few minutes later, the blonde A&P professor bid adieu to her co-workers and headed for the dining hall exit.  “Ohhkay Tara, you’re all right to get home.  Oh Goddess, home!  I haven’t finished unpacking, I haven’t fed the cat, ugh, where is the cat?…I haven’t—OOF!”

 

If a fly had been on the wall by the dining hall doorway, it would have noticed that one minute, Professor Tara Maclay was occupied with the frenetic energy of her runaway thought process.  The next minute, however, the blonde was occupied with something else…a face full of shining red hair, not to mention the fact that she was splayed out on the floor with the owner of that red hair’s limbs entwined amongst her own.  “Ow…ow!”  Tara tried to move, but couldn’t quite find the leverage to extract herself from what was on top of her.

 

“Tara!  Are you ok?  Oh good Lord.  What happened?”  Tara could hear Dean Riggs run up to the entrance, taking in the scene with a gasp.  A couple seconds later, though, she could hear him laughing as he talked to the person, she assumed, who had caused this little accident.  “Miss Rosenberg!  Goodness, you sure do know how to make an entrance!  Are you all right?”  Just before Dean Riggs began trying to untangle the two women, Tara was finally able to open her eyes and focus on what, or who, was in front of her.

 

“Gah!” Tara exclaimed, not expecting to see someone else’s eye so close in her line of vision.  The other girl winced at the outburst, but then also focused on the sight in front of her.  As the two women’s vision cleared, the equivalent of a hundred blaring trumpets or one giggling doobie-toking Fran Drescher couldn’t have distracted them from the sights in front of them.  Crystal blue eyes met piercing green in a trance-like state; their mouths the only things moving, each forming just the slightest of smiles.  In the midst of her gaze, she could again hear Dean Riggs talking.

 

“Tara, can you grab Miss Rosenberg’s hand?  I need you to steady her as I pull her up.  No one else can get a grip well enough to do it.”  Without verbally answering, the blonde simply nodded her head, not breaking eye contact.  Feeling around briefly, she located the red-head’s right hand and grasped it.

 

“Goddess!”  The red-head gasped as she felt Tara grab her hand.  As if acting as a conductor, the energy exchanging through their unyielding gaze surged, flowing like a circuit through both.  But, as quickly as it began, it was over as the Dean and another faculty member gently extracted Miss Rosenberg from her entanglement with Tara.

 

Once the other woman was steady on her feet, the Dean held out his hand to Tara, who grabbed it and was pulled up off the floor.  Despite the loss of proximity, the two women had yet to really look away from each other.

 

“Miss Rosenberg, Miss Maclay, are you ladies all right?  Do you need anything?  Are you hurt?”  Both women shook their heads without glancing at the Dean.

 

Confused, Dean Riggs figured they were staring because the women didn’t know each other.  “Oh!  Yes, well, let me make some introductions.  Tara, this is Professor Willow Rosenberg of the Psychology department.  Willow, this is Tara Maclay, Professor of Anatomy and Physiology.”

 

“Tara…”  Willow breathed, clasping Tara’s hand to shake it.

 

“Willow…” Tara responded, again feeling the rush of electricity as their hands touched again.

 

Chapter 1:

 

“All right class, be sure to read chapters three and four of your text in time for next week’s class.  We’re going to continue discussing the digestive system.”  As Tara’s students began to rise from their desks, she called out, “Oh!  Think of some digestive horror stories.  I figure I’d make this class interactive.  We’ll have some laughs talking about bodily functions while at the same time discussing their actual causes.  Ladies, I expect stories from you as well!  This is an equal opportunity classroom!  Have a good week.”

 

The class shuffled out of the room, some laughing, some cringing, but all thinking about their weekend assignment.  Sighing softly, but with a smile on her face, Tara set about gathering the extra papers strewn around the room and tidying up from today’s session.  A small crisis erupted earlier during an overview of the aforementioned digestive system.  Tara brought out the “real” working digestive model, deciding that lifelike would get her point across better than illustrations in a book.  Since deciding to become a teacher, Tara prided herself on purposely taking roads less traveled, using creativity to stimulate the brain rather than simply lecturing and testing from the book.  Apparently, the new teacher’s offbeat methods were making an impact, at least in the attitudes of the University students.  It’s not surprising to see students smile and talk animatedly about their A&P class and it’s “cool” professor.  As the blonde began her overview, she turned on her digestive track creation, fed it a few spoonfuls of pudding and explained how the basic flow of food worked from insertion to excretion.  Unfortunately, as the food entered the rubber “lower intestine,” somehow, the tube ruptured spraying chocolate pudding all over the front two rows of students.  Of course, the second row contained a fifth of the University’s drama club.  Exclamations of “the horror, the horror” or “I’ve been slimed!,” not to mention a chorus of “eeeewwws” flowed freely.  It took a good ten minutes for the class to calm down, wipe up the mess and settle to finish the discussion.  Tara giggled softly as she reminded herself to replace the treacherous tube.

 

As she bent over to pick up a fallen handout, the A&P professor heard a commotion in the hallway of the Benson Building.  “Watch it!  Coming through!  Runaway lab experiment!  Do NOT step on the guinea pig!  No, the pun was NOT intended, it IS a real guinea pig.”  Turning her head in mid-bend, Tara’s eyes widened as she saw a labcoat-clad Willow barreling down the hallway chasing after a small, yet pudgy brown rodent.  “Noooooo!!  Oh crap…not the snack bar!” could be heard as the Professor raced past Tara’s classroom.  A few seconds later, loud banging resonated through the hall, reminiscent of a dog running on linoleum and crashing into kitchenware.  “I’m ok!  I’m ok…nothing to see here, just a professor and her guinea pig.  Happens all the time!”

 

Tara chuckled and shook her head lightly as she heard Willow’s exclamations.  Straightening out from her prolonged bend, the blonde professor walked a few steps to her desk but then stopped.  “Willow,” she sighed, smiling that half-grin she saved for truly inspired moments.  “I haven’t even had a chance to talk to you since the Faculty Happy Hour.”  Three weeks had passed since the afternoon where the red-head had literally crashed into her life.  Academic life had kept the two of them busy, alone in their respective worlds of Anatomy and Psychology.  Unfortunately for both women, the nature of their fall semester courses fit the “never the two shall meet” setting.

 

Never one to pass a lemon without making lemonade, Professor Maclay simply allowed her thoughts to recreate and expand on that fleeting “Willow-time” of three weeks prior.  In fact, so frequently did her thoughts stray, it’s a wonder she got her lesson plans done at all.  That task, as a matter of fact, was what Tara had been about to tackle when those oh-so-intrusive Willow-thoughts hijacked her thought process once again.  She set down her papers and took a step back while her features took on a serene glow as her mind strayed once again.  As vivid as when it first happened, she could feel the weight of the red-headed Psychology professor as she landed unexpectedly on top of her.  Looking back in hindsight, her skin tingled in the exact spots where limb touched limb, pressure point touched pressure point.  She sighed, taking another step back as her mind focused again on the sensations, the feel of that hair on her face, obscuring her eyes from the vision she hoped to see soon.  Tara’s eyes glazed over as she remembered the chill then the spreading warmth as those green eyes pierced her very soul.  ‘Goddess,’ the blonde thought, ‘a simple touch can make me feel like this.  Who would’ve thought.’  Her foot moved backwards again unconsciously as Tara recalled the touch.  ‘So soft, yet the energy crackled, sped up my spine and fueled my veins, sparking everything within me, just the coming together of our’…”HANDS!,” Tara screamed, feeling something grab her backside.

 

She spun around, a million thoughts racing through her mind, wondering who in the hell would have the nerve to squeeze her rear end!  As she turned, the pinching escalated until she shrieked once again.  As quickly as her yelp began, it ended as she realized no one, well, no one alive, was groping her.  So caught up in her daydream, Tara had backed into another one of her unusual teaching aids…a preserved skeleton enhanced with “reflexes.”  Tara became an example of how those reflexes work.  If something comes in contact with the skeletons “hands,” it reaches out to grab the item.  That item just happened to be the blonde’s left buttock.  Catching her breath and shaking her head, Tara moved her arm back, grasped the bony hand attached to her behind and gently removed the offending appendage.  With her focus severely lacking, the professor decided to shelve lesson planning until tomorrow, instead opting to head to the grocery store.  “Maybe I just need some brain food.  I’ll head to the store, pick up some food for me, for Miss Kitty, and fill up the refrigerator.  That should occupy my brain enough to stop thinking about Willow for at least a little while.  Perhaps I could even focus on a Willow, er, movie.”  The blonde gathered her things, sighing as she headed out the door.  “Willow…”

 

Chapter 2:

 

“Damn.  Why is it that whatever time I decide to do my grocery shopping I get here and it’s packed to the rafters!  Argh!”  Tara shook her head, glanced at her watch and roamed the parking lot.  It was 9:00pm when the blonde had pulled into the sea of parked cars.  Ten minutes whittled by and she was still searching for a space.  “Oh for crying out loud!  Has everyone decided to take residence at the Safeway?  I wish someone would pull out.”  As if the Powers that Be heard her siren call, an old man in the world’s largest Cadillac backed out of the parking space and inched his way down the lane.  “Yes!” Tara exclaimed as she hit the gas, ready to stake her claim on the single spot.  ‘I wonder if I should try wishing for that million dollars again.’  The professor chuckled a bit, however, she decided not to press her luck.  “Nah.  I’ll be content with the parking spot.  Don’t want to get greedy.”  She pressed on the brake, stopping her vehicle…a perfect parking job.  Tara got out of her car, locked the door and headed toward the entrance when the car next to her caught her eye.  It wasn’t the car, although sleek and stylish, that piqued her interest.  It was the license plate.  She stared at it, reading the letters aloud. “W-L-D, R-D-H-D.  I think it says ‘Wild Redhead’…hmm, interesting.  I wonder if all redheads are wild.”  She smiled that half-grin, walking into the store, as she once again abandoned herself to the same thoughts that filled her mind over and over these past three weeks.

 

Journeying further into the store, the anatomy professor shook her head and sighed.  “Of course,” Tara muttered to herself, “There’s only one shopping cart left.  Let me guess, it’s the one that has gum stuck to the bottom of a wheel and squeaks.”  She moved the cart a couple inches and sure enough, a hideous sound probably only a smidgeon away from the frequency where only dogs can hear it resonated through the front of the grocery store.  “Lovely.”  She glanced around hoping to see a clerk or a bagboy, but alas, they were all hard at work packing heavy cans and bottles on top of bread and eggs.  Resigned to having to deafen everyone while she picked up the items on her hastily written list, Tara started her scavenger hunt. 

 

After about a dozen squeaky steps, Tara halted her movement, hearing a voice cry “Ma’am!  Ma’am!”  Turning around, wondering if the voice was calling her, she saw a skinny teenaged boy running toward her, dragging along another shopping cart.  The poor boy was huffing and puffing as he stopped right in front of her.  “I’m so sorry,” he puffed.  “I was trying to bring in more carts when a situation happened in the parking lot.  Here.” The stock boy gave her a new cart, “Why don’t you take this one?  I think I’d like to take that one out back and give it a dignified funeral, or at least a shot of WD-40.”  Tara smiled at the stock boy and gave him the ailing grocery hauler.  He gave her the other one and sprinted away (squeaking obnoxiously, of course), not giving her the slightest chance to convey her thanks.

 

With a renewed energy, knowing that she wouldn’t be walking around the store sounding like an alarm, Tara restarted her shopping excursion.  Wheeling along the aisles she grabbed items both on and off her list.  “Hmm…ooh!  Whipped cream in a can!  I love that stuff!”  A couple other store patrons chuckled as they heard the blonde’s exclamation.  She reached in the dairy case and grabbed one.  ‘This’ll go great with the ice cream I bought last night,’ she thought.  ‘Oh, but that’s a large container.  Don’t they have a smaller one?’  She looked around, but didn’t see anything other than the same size can.  ‘Oh well, I’ll get it anyway.  I’m sure I’ll find something to do with the rest.”  She tossed the can in the cart and kept on.

 

A few minutes later, Tara had made her way through two-thirds of the store, with only the meat-seafood and vegetable-fruit sections to go.  She glanced at her list and headed for the fish section.  In her short time living here, the blonde had discovered that this supermarket was considered the freshest in the city.  One of its hallmark attractions was the open fish market.  Patrons had the ability to pick the exact fish they want, weigh it themselves, and only hand it to the clerk for wrapping.  Tara ambled over where the whole salmon were located, and picked one up to inspect.  She turned around to ask the fish clerk a question when a vision caught her eye.  Ignoring the clerk’s “may I help you,” Tara attention focused solely on the stunning redhead that was Professor Rosenberg.  “Willow…” 

 

Tara’s eyes blocked everything else around her as she became transfixed watching Willow in the fruit section.  The rhythm was hypnotic, a simple repetition of bending and standing as the redhead thumped melons, checking for ripeness.  Without command, her mind took over once again, filling her head with images of sharing an intimate (yet strangely awkward) dance to the rhythm of Willow’s movement.  Tara could imagine walking up behind Willow, spooning her from behind, covering the redheads arms with her own and engaging with her in a sensual serpent-like movement, all points of contact so close, not even air molecules could share space.  Tara sighed as the mental image continued, pressing forth, her physical movements involuntary as she could see herself moving her arms down Willow’s arms, dragging them slowly over her hips and down to trace the trance-inducing moves of her backside.  She could feel her hands clench, eager to feel the scaly mounds of Willow’s rear…Tara’s mind jerked into reality.  Scaly?  She opened her eyes only to discover her fingers weren’t pressed into Willowflesh, but instead fish flesh.  Tara’s overactive imagination caused the poor salmon she was inspecting to be subjected to a death grip of monumental proportions.  The fish clerk, watching the odd actions of the blonde, arched an eyebrow and cleared his throat.

 

“Uh, ma’am?  I’m sorry but, you squeeze it, uh, you, like, buy it.”  Tara snapped herself back into focus and turned to the fish clerk, embarrassment shown clearly on her face.

 

“Oh, um…yes, of c-course.  Sorry, I uh got l-lost in thought.”  The blonde cursed herself for stuttering.  Over the years, Tara made great strides in her speaking ability, so much so that she now only stuttered when extremely nervous or embarrassed.  She stopped chiding herself realizing that this was indeed an extremely embarrassing situation.

 

“Do you, um, want me to, like, wrap that up for you now?”  The fish clerk questioned the professor, internally wondering if she was going to continue to womanhandle the salmon.

 

Tara immediately handed the fish over to the clerk, wanting to remove herself from his line of sight as quickly as possible.  The fate of her red face depended on it.  Thirty seconds later, Tara had a fresh, albeit slightly squished, whole salmon in her cart.  Too mortified over her own thoughts and actions, she had no intention of walking up to Willow as she was thumping melons.  With a sorrowful sigh, Tara made up her mind to finish her shopping and head on home.  “Goddess, I have to be the biggest dork on the planet.  I’ve only spoken to this woman once, but I can’t get her out of my mind.  And now, I’ve maimed tomorrow night’s dinner thinking about her butt!  I so need a hobby.”  The blonde professor wheeled her cart a few feet and stood in front of the meat case.  Surveying the different cuts contained in the case, Tara never gave a second thought to the sound of footsteps approaching behind her.  With that in mind, she was not prepared for the shoulder tapping that was to come.

 

Jumping at the sensation on her shoulder, Tara whipped around only to come face to face with the woman of her daydreams.  “Willow!” She shrieked and took a step back.  And with the bad luck that seemed to follow Tara like a little stray dog, that step went directly into a small puddle of water, which then caused the blonde to lose her footing, propelling her backwards until she backed up against the thigh-high edge of the cold meat case.  Momentum being the bitch that it is, her movement continued until finally Tara ended up jackknifed, bottom-first into the meat case.

 

“Tara!  Gods!”  Willow exclaimed, her eyes wide and expression horrified.  The fish clerk a few feet away heard the redhead’s outburst and ran over to see what was the matter.  “Oh goddess!  Tara, are you ok?”

 

“Um, uh…uh, I’m uh, c-cold?”  Even though her rear was freezing, her face felt on fire as she blushed furiously.

 

“Oh!  Of course, goddess, let me help you out!”  Willow grabbed Tara’s hand and was immediately transported back to the feeling three weeks ago when they first met.  The energy crackled, flowing through them in a rush of sensations, and as wonderful as it felt, it unfortunately left Willow a little short of strength.  She tried to pull the woman out, but couldn’t sustain the force long enough to do any good.  The fish clerk then grabbed Tara’s other hand and the two of them tried again.  Slowly, Tara began to lift up off the cold meat, sensing freedom.  A moment later, the professor was almost completely out of the case.  A hair’s breadth away from extrication, the grip the fish clerk had on her hand slipped, causing Tara to lurch back into the meat case, flinging a helpless Willow toward her.  The image of the end result was picture perfect…Tara again rear-first, arms spread and legs wide open dangling over the edge of the meat case…and Willow, dear, sweet Willow, doubled over half in and half out of the refrigerated case, her upper-body sprawled over Tara’s, her face nestled in the blonde’s cleavage.  “Mmph?  Mm-ra?  Mm-lo?”  The action happened so fast, Willow wasn’t exactly sure where she was.

 

“Willow…” Tara sighed, both embarrassed and exhilarated by the situation she found herself in.  She could feel the redhead’s warm breath hitting the center of her chest and she struggled not to let herself respond to the sensation.  ‘Yeah, that’d be just what I need, let her see me all flustered and aroused by breath.  Oh yeah, biggest dork in the world.’ Tara chuckled at her musings causing her chest to move.

 

“Mm-ay…Mmra?”  Willow’s face squished slightly with each movement of Tara’s chest.  The psychology professor moved her head back just enough to realize where she was.  “Tara?”  She looked at Tara’s face and where her face had been, back to Tara’s and then back to her head’s resting place.  Then, she lost all control of the words leaving her mouth.  “Oh…wow…uh…oh my gosh.  I, uh, didn’t realize that uh, I was, well, uh, here, er there, uh, oh boy.  Um, I hope I didn’t, uh, hurt you, uh.  Well, um, I’m ok, I mean, I uh, landed in a, um, well, er, a soft place.  Uh, not that you’re all soft, er, well, at least there you are, and um, well I’m not exactly saying things right, um, uh, sorry.  But, you know, it could’ve been worse.  Like that song says, uh, ‘everybody needs a bosom for a pillow.’”  Tara stared wide-eyed at Willow, not knowing how to respond to that last utterance.

 

“Uh, o-ok.  You, uh, m-might have a p-point there.”  Tara’s internal chiding came back full force, blasting her infernal nervous stuttering.  Her butt freezing at a rapid pace, Tara tried shifting a fraction to change position.  Not realizing until too late that Willow’s hand was braced on the edge of Tara’s hip, her movement caused the redhead’s arm to buckle, sending her straight into her chest again.  “Oh!  I’m so sorry.”

 

“Mm nhht.”  Tara couldn’t tell what exactly Willow said, but it sounded like ‘I’m not.’  She shook her head, dispelling that thought.  While all this went on, the fish clerk picked himself up off the floor and flagged down a burly looking customer to help him try to remove the women from the meat case.  With a vice-like grip, the customer wrapped his arm around and under Willow’s right shoulder while the fish clerk did the same with her left.  Slowly and carefully, the two men lifted Willow up off the blonde and out of the meat case.  With the same care, they then removed Tara from the offending refrigeration unit.

 

By this time, a crowd had gathered, watching the scene unfold and applauding the rescue effort.  Both Willow and Tara’s faces matched the colour of the redhead’s hair, and they meekly gave a small wave to the crowd before bolting down the aisle with their respective shopping carts.  A few seconds later, they both stopped to catch their breath.  They turned to look at each other and burst out laughing, neither one of them really sure what exactly happened.  “Goddess, what was all that?”  Willow asked, shaking her head and glancing back towards the scene of it all.

 

“Uh, I’m n-not exactly s-sure, b-but I think it involved water, slipping and you landing on my chest.”

 

Smiling, Willow remarked, “Well, I wanted to surprise you…uh, I guess I did.”

 

“Um, I’d uh, have to agree w-with that.”  Tara also smiled, but tried to turn her head away to hide her embarrassment.  The blonde looked down at the contents of her cart, causing Willow to do the same.

 

“Interesting stuff you have there, Tara,” Willow remarked, eying the whipped cream and chocolate sauce.  “Having a sundae party?”  The psychology professor asked, picking the whipped cream canister up and reading the label.

 

“Um, well, sort of, I g-guess.  K-kind of an ice cream party for one.  They just didn’t h-have any smaller containers.  I’m sure I’ll find some use for the rest of it.”  The blonde laughed slightly, willing her nervousness to go away.  ‘God, I must sound like the dullest person alive.’

 

“Oh!  Yeah, definitely.  There’s uh, bound to be stuff you could use that spray can for.  I mean, there’s uh, pie, um, milkshakes…ooh, and drawing.”

 

“D-drawing?” The blond asked raising an eyebrow.

 

“Yeah, haven’t you ever used it to draw little pictures on someo…oh uh, nevermind.  I meant that you could, uh, draw a map on a cake or something.  Yeah.” Willow stammered, a deep blush starting from her neck and reaching her cheeks.

 

Tara’s eyes went wide, ‘she wasn’t going to say what I think she was going to say, was she?’  She shook her head, eliminating that thought from her consciousness.  ‘I’ll save those thoughts for later.’  “Well for w-whatever r-reason it’s good for, I don’t think I’ll be using it for the ice cream tonight.  The way I’m f-feeling right now, I’ve had enough c-cold things on or in my body for tonight.”  The professor shivered a little, still semi-frozen from the evening’s activities.

 

Willow looked confused for a second until she realized what the blonde meant.  “Oh!  Your butt!”

 

“What?”

 

“Uh, I mean, uh, well, your butt…uh, er, it was sitting on top of all that cold meat.  It, er, you must be freezing.”

 

“Well, yeah, I’m k-kind of a ‘r-rearsicle’ at the moment.”

 

“Ooh, I could warm you up!”

 

“What?”  Tara couldn’t have heard that correctly.

 

“Oh geez, um, I meant…uh, I could warm you up with coffee.”

 

“Coffee?” Tara’s face perked up, thinking of the warm, caffeinated goodness.  However, she couldn’t help the slight disappointment that coffee was the means of getting warmed up.

 

“The Steamed Bean…my treat…whaddaya say?”  The hope in Willow’s eyes about blinded Tara and she realized she couldn’t say anything but yes.

 

“I’d l-love to go for coffee.  But…”  Tara glanced at her shopping cart.

 

“But?” Willow looked panic-stricken that the blonde was going to say no.  “Oh, well, if you can’t, maybe another…”

 

“No!” Tara exclaimed, halting the other woman’s ramble.  She touched the redhead’s arm to calm her down.  “I’d l-love to go.  I just need to d-drop my groceries at home.”

 

“Yeah, that would probably help.  Don’t want the frozen things to, well, get unfrozen.”

 

“The only thing I’d like unfrozen is m-me.”  Tara flashed Willow her half-grin.

 

“Well, like I said…I can help you with that.”  Willow smiled back at her.

 

Tara started to wheel her cart toward the front checkout.  She took a deep breath and as coolly as possible remarked, “I’m gonna hold you to that…and the coffee, too.”  She looked back and saw Willow stop in the middle of the walkway, staring at Tara.  The blonde turned back around and continued walking.  “You coming?”

 

The redhead, without thinking, replied softly, “um, not yet, but perhaps any minute now.”

 

“What was that?” The blonde inquired.

 

“Uh, nothing…I’ll be right there.”  Willow breathed deep, took a few tentative steps and tried to clear her brain of certain thoughts.  As she started to move her feet, she couldn’t help but let out a happy sigh.  “Tara…”

 

Chapter 3:

 

Willow stood silently behind Tara as the blonde paid for her groceries, her mind still reeling from all that had happened.  ‘She’s going to have coffee with me!  She’s going to have coffee with me!  Like right now!  Oh goddess!  She’s going to have coffee with…’ The redhead looked down, surveying her choice of clothing.  ‘A complete mess!  Here I am in grungy jeans and an old shirt while she looks stunning in,’ Willow looked over at the blonde, ‘…grungy jeans and an old shirt.’  She then asked herself, ‘Am I making too big a deal over this?  Of course I am.  It’s just coffee…coffee with Tara…coffee with the woman I’ve been thinking about but haven’t said a word to in three weeks…coffee with…the woman of who’s chest I had my face buried in not ten minutes ago…ooh, that chest…ok, no, can’t think of that right now…have to think of something to talk about…psychology…ooh I can talk about that…no, wait…she won’t want to hear about this…probably thinks it’s all Pavlov’s Dog or something.  Maybe I could…’

 

“Willow?  I’m finished.”

 

“Wha-, huh?”  The redhead looked toward the voice.  “Oh! Tara.”  She smiled at the blonde.  “Hey.”

 

Tara smiled back.  “You looked l-like you were d-deep in thought.”

 

“Uh, yeah…kinda.”  Willow blushed a little, feeling silly for having gotten so lost in her own internal ramblings.

 

“What w-were you thinking about?”  Tara began to walk toward the front doors.

 

“What happened earlier.”  The psychology professor moved with the blonde as they headed out.

 

Just outside the door, Tara stopped, turned around and looked at Willow, a distraught look on her face.  “Willow…I’m so s-sorry.  I really didn’t mean for th-that to happen back there.  I d-didn’t know you were standing behind me and when you t-tapped my sh-shoulder.”  Willow looked at Tara’s eyes, saw a mix of fear and sadness and realized that the blonde had misunderstood what she said.  Tara looked away, still feeling guilty about what happened.

 

“Oh goddess, no!  No, no…I didn’t mean it that way, Tara.”  Willow touched the blonde’s arm, hoping she’d look up and meet her eyes again.  “Tara, look at me.”  The other woman nodded and turned her eyes to meet the redheads.  “I was thinking about all that has gone on the last three weeks.  The fact that we met at that faculty mixer but hadn’t even had a chance to talk since then.  I’d been meaning to approach you again, but unexpected events kept happening.”

 

Tara smiled slightly and remarked, “You mean like runaway guinea pigs?”

 

Willow’s eyes widened and she blushed.  “You saw that?”  The blonde professor nodded and placed her hand on top of the one Willow had placed on her arm.  “Ok, yes, even runaway guinea pigs.”  She sighed and continued.  “When I saw you in the store, I was determined to talk to you.  I took it as a sign from those powers that be that we were in the same place at the same time, for once, and so I mustered my courage, tapped you on the shoulder and started on my journey towards getting to know you.  I just didn’t think I was going to, well, uh, get to know you ‘that’ well, um, so quickly.”

 

“Willow, I’m so sorry about that.  I’m so embarrassed…for both of us.”  Tara still expected to see Willow’s face change to one of irritation or blame, but it only held the same smile and shining eyes.

 

“Tara, please don’t feel bad about what happened in the supermarket.  I don’t.  Granted, it wasn’t the most graceful of sights, and I’m sure your um, butt, would’ve preferred not to have had the opportunity to develop frostbite, but well, I had a nice soft landing. Anyway…” The blonde blushed at Willow’s last comment.  “Let’s just chalk it up to this whole thing being one hell of a way to break the ice…um, no pun intended.  She lightly squeezed Tara’s arm.  “Okay?”  Her eyes searched the gaze she held for any sign of the affirmative.

 

“Okay,” the A&P professor responded.  Her hand still on top of Willow’s, Tara smiled and briefly intertwined her fingers with the other woman’s.  The two of them said nothing, standing still, holding each other’s gaze.  After several seconds, Willow wanted to break the silence, but the sound of ‘She Blinded Me with Science’ did it for her.  “What the…?”

 

“Oh, dammit!  My cell phone.”  Much to her disappointment, Willow removed her hand from Tara’s arm and reached to grab the annoying contraption from her purse.  “Hello?!” Willow barked, her irritation clearly recognizable.  Her face softened when heard the voice on the other end.  “Oz!  Hi!”

 

‘Oz?  Who’s Oz?’  Tara didn’t recognize the name off the top of her head.  ‘Another faculty member?’ She tried to think other professor’s names, but couldn’t come up with many besides those from her own department.  She focused on Willow again and noticed how animated her face and gestures became as she conversed with ‘Oz.’  ‘Must be someone close.’  Tara willed herself not to expand on that thought as she waited for Willow to finish her conversation.  Remembering something she left in her car, she waved at Willow and pointed to her car, mouthing that she needed to get something.  Willow waved her acknowledgement and the blonde began walking.

 

Tara was too far away to hear the remainder of Willow’s side of the conversation.  “Oh Oz, I’ve got so much to tell you…ugh, you always know, yes, I met someone…no, you don’t know her…yes, I’ve actually talked to her…no, I haven’t kissed her yet, but my face was in her chest earlier tonight…Oz, no! Not like that…it was a misunderstanding…look, it’s too much to get into over the phone…no, I’m not being a tease, Oz, geez, guttermind much?...just call me when you get into town.  I expect a full rundown of how your tour went.  I’ve heard great things…you take care of yourself, too…say hi to everyone…love you, too…see you when you get back.”  Willow hit the ‘end’ button on her cell phone and put it back in her purse.  She looked across the parking lot spotting Tara over near her car.  “No way…she parked next to me?”  Willow looked up at the night sky and envisioned those Powers that Be smirking down at the scenario.  “Must be fate.” 

 

The Psychology professor quickly covered the distance of the parking lot to where their cars were.  She approached quietly, wanting to surprise Tara as she dug through the backseat obviously trying to find something.  A devilish thought formed in her mind as Tara found her missing object and backed out of the car.  “Want some candy little girl?” Willow spoke in as deep a voice as she could and placed her hands on Tara’s shoulders.

 

Tara jerked violently and growled, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”  Without a thought she bent her elbow and thrust it forward and then back with as much force as her body could generate, the blow landing squarely at her offender’s stomach.  She felt the unseen attacker’s hands leave her shoulders, heard groans of pain, a thump, and then another thump as the attacker fell to the ground hitting against the car next to her, setting off the car’s alarm.  Tara whipped around to face her attacker, yelling, “That’s what you get you ass—Willow?!  Oh my God!”  She realized the person on the ground wasn’t an attacker.  She threw her stuff down and knelt next to the redhead.  “Willow!  I’m so sorry…oh Goddess…I didn’t know it was you.”  She helped her sit up, lightly rubbing her back as Willow tried to catch her breath.

 

“What,” she coughed, “was,” she coughed again, “that?”  She looked up at the blonde through watery eyes.  “Ugh, that felt like a battering ram.”

 

“Uh, well, that would be the self-defense class I took at the University.”  Tara continued rubbing circles on her back while holding Willow’s other hand.

 

“I,” she coughed again, “I think it worked.”  She tried to laugh, but could only suck air as she grabbed her purse off the ground to find her keychain to shut the alarm off.  After silencing the loud squeal, she closed her eyes and tried to focus her breathing.  “Hoo, just give me a second.  Catch my breath.  Then I can attend to the possible internal injuries.”  Willow smiled slightly at Tara, but to the blonde it looked like an annoyed grimace.

 

‘Oh Goddess…she hates me now.  I just know she does!  First I knock her down three weeks ago.  Then I freak at the grocery store, and, and now this.  I should just help her up and get out of her way.  Go home, and, oh Goddess, I don’t want to!’  Tara’s internal rambling continued as Willow motioned for her to give her a hand.  Willow braced her hand on Tara’s shoulder while the blonde grabbed under her shoulders and helped pull her to a standing position.  “Willow, are you going to be ok?  Goddess I’m sorry.  You must hate me.”

 

Willow looked up at Tara and exhaled again.  “No, no.  Tara, I couldn’t hate you.  It was so my fault.  I shouldn’t have snuck up on you.  Being a psychology professor I should know what happens when people get scared.  I guess I wanted to surprise you.  Uh, guess I did.”

 

“I really do apologize for elbowing you.  It was a gut reaction learned in the class.  If it m-makes you f-feel better, I uh, would’ve done it to anyone?”  Tara still had that concerned look in her eyes, but was at least relieved that the redhead didn’t hate her.

 

Willow laughed a little in between the gulps of air.  “I feel a little better knowing that it wasn’t just a reaction to me.”  Willow squeezed Tara’s shoulder slightly, wrapping her arm around her neck a little tighter.  Despite her discomfort, she liked being so close to the blonde.  With her free hand, Willow grabbed her car keys from her purse again.  “Can you drive?  I don’t think the bump on my head will let me.”

 

“O-ok.  Which car is yours?”  Tara was so concerned about Willow’s state that when Willow turned off the car alarm, she didn’t realize that was her car.

 

“Uh, the one we’re standing by.  The one I hit my head on.  The one with the alarm I shut off?”  Willow giggled a little, then groaned as her head swam.

 

Tara’s eyes widened.  “YOU’RE ‘Wild Redhead?’  That’s your car?!”

 

“Yep that cranial lump-creator is my beauty.  All six speeds of her.”  Willow made a ‘Vanna White’ motion with her hand as she looked at her silver sports car.

 

“Six speeds…as in manual transmission?”  Tara blanched as she spoke the words.

 

“Uh-huh.  Stick-shift ahoy.  Thar she blows.”  She looked at Tara and noticed the woman’s reaction.  “Uh, Tara.  Is that a problem?  You do know how to drive stick, don’tcha?”  She waited for her to respond.  “Tara…you do know how to drive a stick, right?”  The blonde shook her head.  “Really?  You never learned?”

 

Barely registering the remainder of the redhead’s words, Tara’s memory recalled her one failed attempt at driving stick.  She hadn’t wanted to do it, knowing how awkward it was to maneuver it.  Never knowing when to push forward, or push back, and moving side to side could cause the momentum to collapse, stall and have to start the whole process over again.  She thought it was too much work.  An automatic transmission did the work for her, so she could concentrate on other, more pleasant things.  She just didn’t feel like herself in attempting to drive it.  But still, because she wasn’t one to make waves, she went ahead and tried it once.  After five minutes of shimmying, shaking, sputtering and stalling, the guy trying to teach her told her to stop, and he took the stick over himself.  Of course, he had no problem, since he’d been driving that car’s stick himself for years.  It came second nature to him, but not to her.  From that point on, she decided ‘people be damned’ and chose automatics as her method of driving.  She never saw him or tried the stick again.  “Umm, I tried once.  It just wasn’t for me,” she finally responded.

 

“I understand.  I really am an automatic transmission gal myself.  But, when I saw this here, I just had to have it.  And, they were out of this model in auto, so I had to take a stick.  It was awkward driving it, but well, you know, I got used to it.”  She gave Tara the keys to her car.  “You want to give it another try?”

 

“Uhh, I don’t want to strip your gears.”  Tara looked at the keys with horror.  She didn’t know if she wanted to try it again.  It had been several years and what little she learned was long gone.

 

“Oh come on.  Just try it,” Willow set the puppy-dog look and Tara immediately nodded her head.

 

‘How can I say no, with that look?’  She unlocked the car, gingerly helped Willow into the passenger seat, walked around and climbed in the driver’s side.  Once settled, Tara nervously fumbled with the keys, eventually turning the ignition and starting the automobile.  She glanced at Willow, looking for her guidance as to what to do next.

 

“Ok, Tara…grab the stick.  Right, just like that.  Now, jiggle it a little and move it to first, stepping on the clutch.”  Tara movements were a little rough, due to nervousness, and she jammed the stick over to third gear.  The motor emitted a harsh, grinding sound, causing Willow to go white as a sheet.  “Wait!  Stop.  Don’t move.”  She placed her hand on top of Tara’s and helped Tara try to guide the stick into the proper gear.  Once again Tara jammed the stick over to the opposite side, completely missing neutral.  The motor again groaned in irritation and Willow again blanched.  “Ok.  Tara, sweetie, you don’t have to learn.  Now I know why you’re hesitant.”

 

“I’m sorry.  I’m just not comfortable d-doing this.  It’s just not n-natural for me to drive stick.”  The blonde lowered her head, wishing it could be easier, not wanting to upset the psychology professor.

 

“Tara.  It’s not really natural for me either.  But, well, some of us who have driven stick did so because we thought we had to.  It’s only as we grow older do we realize it’s ok to drive an automatic.  It’s completely natural.  In fact, I wish I had realized it earlier, like when you did.”  Tara smiled at Willow’s words of comfort.  She knew the woman understood her and accepted her.

 

“How about this?  Since I’m still not in condition to drive, plus I don’t mind being chauffeured, why don’t we take your car, drop your groceries off at your apartment, then head for that coffee.  That is, if you don’t mind?”  Having not removed her hand from on top of the blonde’s, she gave it a slight squeeze.

 

“No, I don’t mind at all.”  She moved her hand to the steering wheel as Willow guided the stick shift into neutral.  Tara pressed the parking brake and turned the ignition off.  She popped out of the car, ran to the other side and helped lift Willow out of the passenger seat.  Walking her over to her car, she then unlocked it and guided Willow into her passenger seat.  Climbing into the driver’s side, this time Tara felt much more at ease.  “Ahh much better.”  She smiled at the redhead as she started the car and put the shifter into drive.  She headed out of the parking lot, turning in the direction of her apartment.  “Just like nature intended me to drive…automatic.”

 

Chapter 4:

 

The drive from the market to Tara’s apartment was a short one, barely lasting ten minutes.  Conversation was sparse during this time as Willow was content to rest her eyes and let the bump on her head settle its merciless throb.  Tara passed through the gated entrance of the apartment complex, wound her way past a couple of curves and guided her car into covered spot number S4-10.  As she turned off the engine, the blonde looked over at her passenger, smiling softly.  During the drive, she’d snuck glances at the redhead, each time catching her with her eyes closed.  Tara reached over with her left hand and gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face and behind her ear.  “H-hey there.”

 

Willow opened her eyes and smiled at the object in her line of sight.  “Hey.  Are we there yet?”

 

The blonde laughed softly as her hand trailed down to play with the ear-tucked ends of Willow’s hair.  “Yes, sleepyhead, we’re here.”

 

“Sleepyhead?  No, no…no ‘sleepyhead.’  Only ‘resting my eyes and enjoying the ride head.’”  The redhead yawned sheepishly, turning her head in a weak attempt to keep Tara from seeing it.  She could hear Tara chuckle and emit an exaggerated ‘mmhmm’ as she yawned.  Willow looked back over and grinned.  “Ok, fine, a little ‘sleepyhead,’ but don’t you worry, I’m just fine.  I mean, finey mcfine fine fine.  How much more fine could you get?”  Willow quirked her eyebrow as she thought for a second.  “Well, I guess you could get finer than finey mcfine fine, but that would be the equivalent of…”  Willow was silenced by the feeling of Tara’s index finger against her lips.

 

“Willow, slow down.  Y-you’re going to run through all the words in the dictionary if you keep that up.  Plus, I w-was getting lost in all the ‘finey mcfine fines.’  Come on.”  She got out of the car.  “Let’s get these groceries in my refrigerator so we can go on our coffee date…er, outing, um, excursion, w-well, y-you know.”  The blonde’s face glowed beet red as she chided herself for her presumptuousness.

 

Willow immediately perked up at the mention of impending java joy.  “Mocha-y goodness, full speed ahead.”  Willow exited the car, walked briskly towards Tara and looped her arm through the other woman’s.  “Lead the way, Ms. Maclay.”  She smiled at the blonde and Tara moved them both toward her apartment building.  Tara led them up a flight of stairs and down the second floor walkway to the apartment that straddled the corner.  As Tara unlocked the door and prepared to usher Willow inside, the redhead stopped her, placing her hand on top of the blonde’s which still grasped the key in the lock.  “Tara?”

 

The blonde looked over at Willow, slightly confused.  “Yes?”

 

“It is, you know.”

 

“What?”

 

“A date.”  Willow squeezed Tara’s hand, smiled, and walked inside the apartment.

 

***************

 

“Make yourself at home, Willow.  Feel free to turn on the stereo or the TV or something,” Tara called out as she hefted the grocery bags onto the breakfast bar counter.

 

“Ooh, music?  Great.”  Willow looked around the living room and spotted the stereo.  Walking over to the small setup, the psychology professor whistled.  “Nice, Tara.  A Bose Acoustic Wave.  It’s amazing how such a little piece of equipment can produce such an awesome sound.”  Any response Tara had for Willow’s comments was drowned out as Willow pressed the stereo’s “on” button and female vocals surrounded by a thumping baseline poured out of the speakers.

 

“I want to undress you

Wanna caress you

Don’t wanna be coy

It’s time to GET ME OFF!

Come on my baby, thrust me, trust me, GET ME OFF!”

 

Willow quickly found the volume button and turned the song down to a less deafening level.  “Uh, nice song choice there, Tara.  ‘Get Me Off?’”  She quirked an eyebrow at the blonde as Tara peeked her head over the grocery bags, blushing furiously.  “Was this apartment cleaning music?”

 

Tara set down the loaf of bread she was about to put away and walked back into the living room, her face still flushed.  “Uh, you’re not exactly wrong.”  She hit the stop button on the stereo on her way to the CD rack.  Making her selection, Tara popped the disc out of its jewel box and placed it in the stereo.  A few seconds later, a softer, more soothing sound emanated from the speakers.  Both women exhaled as each let the music knead away the tension of the day.  “When I got home this afternoon, I w-walked on the treadmill for a w-while and did some strength training.  I had the Basement Jaxx CD to keep my rhythm steady.  I finished up and as I w-was cleaning up my mess, Anya walked in and immediately changed it to her favorite track.

 

“Get Me Off.”

 

“Exactly.  Anya’s current phrase of choice…or sh-should I say, action of choice.”  She looked at Willow expecting her to know why she was smirking.  She realized with a light smack to her forehead that of course she wouldn’t know anything about Anya as Willow had never met the woman, or had even heard of her for that matter.  “Oh, Goddess, you have no idea who I’m talking about.”  Willow shook her head.  “Anya is my roommate.”

 

“Y-your roommate?” Willow stammered, her mind automatically racing to every conclusion possible.  “Is sh-she your, uh…” Tara looked at Willow and saw the fear in her eyes.  At that instant, the blonde realized Willow thought Anya was her girlfriend.  Her mind still racing, Willow couldn’t look Tara in the eyes, so she lowered her head and stared at the carpet.

 

Tara immediately cupped her hand and placed it under Willow’s chin, put light pressure on it and moved the psychology professor’s face back to eye level.  “Willow, no.  God, no.  Anya my girlfriend?”  She laughed and Willow smiled in relief.  “She is so not my girlfriend.  Just my roommate, plain and simple.”  Realizing how close she was to the redhead, Tara self-consciously removed her hand from Willow’s chin, moved over to the credenza and hit the button on the answering machine.   “Anya…hmmm.  How to describe her.  S-she’s kind of—.”  BEEP!  The answering machine interrupted the blonde.

 

“Tara, its Anya.  Despite the promise of fresh fish, I am going to have to pass on dinner tonight.  Just after you left, Parker and Faith came over.  Yes, I know you hate them, but I just can’t help myself.  You know what happens…me, her, him…throw in some interlocking parts and a Prada store and we’ll be orgasm friends bumpin’ uglies until I feel like I’m 1120 years old.  So anyway, sorry, I’ll make it up to you somehow.  I’ll probably be back in a couple of days…at least that’s how long it was last time.  If by some chance, a man in uniform comes to the door, or a woman for that matter, too…um, just tell them their ‘Little Patriot’ went out of town and I’ll be back.  In fact, tell them ‘Anya says to start without her and she’ll be back in a couple days.’  Thanks, Tare!  Love ya…well, not in that way, because that would be like loving your sister.  And, I may be into lots of things, but not that.  Bye!”  The machine beeped again and proceeded to announce the date and time of the message at around five minutes before Willow and Tara arrived.

 

Tara walked back over to where Willow was standing and gently laid her hand on a shoulder.  “Willow?  You ok there?”  The redhead stood still, her brow furrowing, still trying to get her head around that whole answering machine message.  “Willow?  Sweetie?”

 

“D-did she just say, uh, ‘bumpin’ uglies?’”  Willow looked at Tara with a mixed expression of humor and horror.

 

Tara moved her hand off of Willow’s shoulder only to cover her mouth as she let out a hearty laugh.  A few seconds later, as the blonde calmed down, she grabbed Willow’s hand and led her into the kitchen.  “Come on, h-help me put the rest of these groceries away and I’ll tell you about the unique creature that is Anya Jenkins.  At least I think that’s what her last name is.”

 

“Huh?  You mean you don’t know what your roommate’s last name is?”  Willow wasn’t sure if she heard the blonde correctly.  The two entered the kitchen and Tara guided Willow to where the pantry closet was for the dry goods.

 

“Oh, no.  I know a last name of hers is Jenkins.”  Both began grabbing groceries off the counter.  “Hmm, how do I explain?  You see, Willow, Anya is a, um, very free spirit.  I guess I could sum it up by saying that she has a voracious appetite for life and, uh, everyone in it.”

 

Again Willow thought she misunderstood Tara.  “Don’t you mean ‘everyTHING in it?’”

 

With a deadpan expression, Tara clarified.  “Uh, no, I meant, ‘everyONE.’”

 

“Oh,” the redhead blushed.  “Ok, go on.”

 

“Well, I met Anya a few years ago when I was traveling in other parts of the country, taking some time off from life for a while.  She was sitting at the counter of a coffee shop, crying to no one in particular about how much men suck and how they should be eviscerated and met with torturous revenge, among other, even more descriptive acts.”

 

“Goodness,” remarked Willow as she set a box of crackers in the pantry.

 

Tara laughed.  “Oh, there’s more.”  She continued, “well, I can’t stand to see anyone upset, so I sat next to her, and tried to calm her down.  I found out that a few days prior, Anya’s fiancé ran out on her in the middle of their wedding ceremony.  The poor thing was crushed, but the anger she had, I couldn’t believe it.  She ranted on about trying to find someone who hated her fiancé and wanting to curse him for all eternity.  She even went so far as to announce that she wanted Riley to live the rest of his life with genitals the size of ten cent gumballs.”  At that, Willow let out a laugh.  “To make a long story short, I stayed with her for several hours as she poured out her heart and anger.  I let her stay in my motel and we talked more.  During that time, she told me that she’s kind of a wanderer, not really calling any place home, she’s gone by many aliases because she doesn’t quite know what she wants to be, and through this conversation I realized she was probably the most blunt and forward person I’ve ever talked to.  Something just intrigued me about her and I asked if she wanted to accompany me on the rest of my sabbatical.  She said yes and we’ve been friends ever since.

 

“Ok, so how did you find out about, uh, her ‘voracious appetite for life and everyone in it?’”  Willow laughed lightly, again relieved that Anya was just a friend and roommate.

 

Tara shook her head a little, remembering that fateful evening.  “Um, well, I had spent most of the day at the Salvadore Dali museum in Tampa, Florida while Anya stayed at the motel.  I came back late in the evening and uh, well, I kind of walked into um…”

 

Tara’s story had Willow captivated.  “What?  What?  What did you walk in on?”

 

The blonde gulped and stammered.  “Uh, well, hmm…have you ever seen the movie ‘Eyes Wide Shut?’”  Willow’s eyes grew wide as she realized what Tara was inferring.

 

“You don’t mean…”

 

“Ok, maybe not on that grand of a scale, but yes, what I walked in on was quite similar to that, uh, scene in the movie, um, including masks.”  Tara blushed just thinking about what she walked in on.

 

“My goodness, Tara…what did you say?”

 

“Uh, well, I kind of just walked backwards right out the door, closed it, and sat in a nearby coffee shop until finally Anya came by to check on me.  Needless to say, I was a little shocked.  But, by that time, I shouldn’t have been THAT surprised.  I just asked her to be careful and to get a separate room when she was going to have, uh, visitors.  She couldn’t believe my understanding.  Then she hugged me and thanked me for not turning my back on her.”  She smiled at the picture of the two of them pinned by a magnet to the refrigerator.  “She called me her stabilizing influence, and the only person to stand by her, no matter what.”

 

Willow walked up to Tara and grabbed her hand.  “That’s because you’ve got a huge heart, Tara.  I can tell just from the time I’ve spent with you tonight.”  She looked up at the blonde and saw the most beautiful smile gracing her vision.  Willow slowly rubbed her thumb over the top Tara’s hand and simply stared for a moment.

 

Tara stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do, then tried placing her other hand atop Willow’s.  Of course, then she realized she had the can of whipped cream she was going to put away still in her hand.  Not meaning to break the moment, but doing so nonetheless, an idea spilled forth from the blonde’s lips.  “Hey, Willow.  Is your heart set on going to the Steamed Bean tonight?”

 

“Why?” Willow looked grief-stricken.  The anatomy professor wanted to cancel, she just knew it.  She dropped Tara’s hand.  “You want to cancel, don’t you.”

 

Tara immediately picked up Willow’s hand to reassure the woman.  “No, Willow.  Goddess, no.  This has been the best night I’ve had in a long, long time.  I don’t want to cancel for anything.”

 

“Then why did you ask?” Willow broached, still not entirely convinced of the blonde’s words.

 

“Well, it was the can of whipped cream, actually.”

 

Willow blinked.  “Huh?”

 

Tara laughed.  “I remembered why I bought it.  I was going to curl up on the couch with a book, some coffee, and a Karamel Sutra ice cream sundae.”

 

“Ok, well, what’s that got to do with me and our coffee?”  Willow asked, not getting the hint.

 

“Well, I was wondering how’d you like to curl up on the couch, have some coffee, eat a delightfully sinful sundae and get to know each other better?”

 

“Oh.”  She thought about it.  “OH!” Willow’s face lit up with a 1000-watt smile.  “Yes!  That sounds great.”  She calmed down a bit.  “Honestly, anything sounds great as long as it doesn’t call an end to this evening.”  She began unconsciously rubbing her thumb on Tara’s hand, this time over the palm.

 

“Great,” Tara beamed, “Karamel Sutra, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce it is.”  She let go of Willow’s hands to start gathering the ingredients.

 

“Hey Tara?” Willow asked abruptly.

 

“Yes?”

 

“I just noticed.  You lost your stutter.”  She smiled at the blonde.

 

She gave a half-grin to the redhead as she reached into the freezer for the ice cream pint.  “Must mean I’m comfortable with you.”

 

Willow grinned at Tara as she lowered two bowls.  “I’m glad you feel comfortable around me.  I want to be, you know, Tara-friendly.”

 

“Oh you are…very much so.”  Tara closed the freezer door, grabbed the chocolate and the whipped cream and headed for the coffee table.  “Come on, I got everything else.  Grab some spoons in the top drawer.  Time for some sundae fun.”

 

“I’m all about the sundae fun,” Willow responded, trailing right behind.

 

***************

 

“Got the spoons, Will?”  Tara thought for a moment.  “You don’t m-mind if I call you that, do you?”  The blonde hoped she hadn’t overstepped her bounds.

 

“Nope, don’t mind at all,” Willow remarked as she sat down on the couch, tucking her left leg under her in the process.

 

“Cool.”  Tara plopped down in a similar fashion at the other end of the loveseat.  It didn’t go unnoticed by either woman that the size of the furniture piece left little space between them.  The two smiled at each other, neither sharing why, but content nonetheless.  Tara broke the brief silence by reaching for a spoon and the carton of Karamel Sutra.  “Ok.  Sundae time.  We can each make our own.  Like I said, there’s ice cream, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and I even managed to scrounge up some rainbow sprinkles.”

 

“Ooh, sprinkles!  Yay!”  Willow beamed like a five-year-old.  “I love those things.  Absolutely no nutritional value whatsoever, but what they lack in vitamins they make up in sprinkle-y color-y fun.”  Tara handed the spoon and carton over to the redhead so she could start first.  She spooned a generous amount into her bowl and then did the same for Tara.

 

“Thanks.  Now for some chocolate sauce.”  With the flair of a professional, Tara spooned a glob of chocolate sauce and proceeded to drizzle an elaborate weave across top of Willow’s ice cream.  “I once worked at an ice cream parlor as a teenager.  We pretty much learned how to turn sundae-making into performance art.  Let’s just say with my coordination, I didn’t stay too long in that job.”

 

“What do you mean?  You seem to be doing a great job with the sauce.”

 

“Oh, drizzling sauce was the easy part.  It was the ice cream, cans of whipped cream and bottles of sauce that weren’t so easy.”  Tara glanced at Willow and laughed at the grin the redhead sported, indicating she wanted to hear the rest of the story.  “Ok.  This one time we were practicing trick scooping.”

 

“Trick scooping?  You’re kidding.”

 

“No, no.  I’m most definitely NOT kidding.  The owner of the parlor used to be a bartender at one of those wild resort clubs in Tijuana.  He thought it would be cool if his employees did the same tricks with ice cream that he used to do with liquor bottles.  Anyway, we were practicing trick scooping.  We were supposed to flip the ice cream out of the scoop, twirl once and let the scoop land in the dish.  Well, I managed to do the first two parts all right…or so I thought.  After I twirled, I went to catch my scoop and well, it didn’t land.  Then I heard the scream.”

 

Willow’s eyes went wide.  “The scream?”

 

“Yep.  I kind of ‘overflipped’ the ice cream and well, it k-kind of, landed on top of Janine’s hair.”

 

“Hence the scream.”

 

“Yes, the scream, the intense dirty looks, and me being shunted off to whipped cream and sauce duty.”

 

“Was that easier then?”

 

“No, not in the least.  I’d have to say I was shocked I lasted the two weeks I did.  I think Michael, the owner, paid more for the customers’ cleaning bills than he made in profit.  I ended up splattering butterscotch sauce all over a man’s suit when I twirled the bottle in the air.  Oh and I can’t forget the little crying girl with whipped cream in her eye when I tried to write her name on her sundae.”

 

Willow held her hand to her mouth to stop herself from laughing.  Tara, however, would not allow it.  She removed the redhead’s hand as she smiled.  “Go right ahead, Willow.  Laugh as hard as you want.  The day I quit, I sat outside and laughed myself silly.  People passing by probably thought I was crazy, but I didn’t care.”  With that the redhead allowed herself to laugh heartily as she grabbed the canister of whipped cream.

 

“So, was that your way of asking if I would spray the whipped cream?”  Willow grinned as she teased the blonde.

 

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.  You mentioned something about drawing earlier, didn’t you?”  The redhead blushed and nodded, realizing the blonde actually had heard what she’d said in the store.  “All right then.  Why don’t you do the honor of drawing a little smiley face on our sundaes, and I’ll put the sprinkles on the top.”

 

“O-o-kay.”  Willow shook the canister and flipped off the lid.  After inverting the can, she depressed the nozzle and drew a smiley face on Tara’s sundae.  She shook it again and started on her own.  Tara watched the redhead’s face and giggled slightly at the look of determination.  Her brow furrowed and her tongue poking out, which led to altogether different thoughts, Tara surmised that everything Willow did she did intensely.

 

Tara grabbed the sprinkles as Willow finished her smiley face.  “Hey Will, you want a lot of sprinkles or a little?”  Tara’s words broke her concentration and turned her body around in mid spray.

 

“What?”

 

“Hey!  Willow!  Stop!”  Tara thrust her arms forward knocking the can out of Willow’s hands.

 

“What?”  She looked at Tara and gasped.  “Oh Goddess, Tara!  I’m so sorry!”  So intent on what she was doing, when Willow turned around at Tara’s question, she never stopped depressing the spray can nozzle.  The consequences of that action left Tara’s neck and face awash in a sea of white, foamy, whipped cream.  As the substance started to drip from Tara’s chin, Willow jumped off the couch and ran for the dishtowel.  “Hold on!  I’m getting a towel.”

 

“Uh, Will?  Hurry?  It’s kind of drippy over here.”  Tara tried catching the drips off her chin, but only managed to make a mess of it on her hands.  A moment later, Willow arrived, towel in hand.

 

“Tara, oh geez.  I’m soo sorry.  Guess I concentrated a little too hard.”  She gently began wiping the whipped cream from Tara’s face.  The blonde giggled as Willow set out on her task.

 

“So, do you concentrate this hard on everything you do?”  Tara asked as she locked eyes with Willow, smirking.

 

Willow stilled her towel-clad hand on Tara’s cheek and without missing a beat replied, “Well, when I get involved with something, I never go in without my whole heart and mind.”  She moved her hand again, continuing to wipe the cream off, yet not moving her gaze.

 

“Everything?”  Tara’s heartbeat sped up slightly as Willow’s hand passed under her chin and over to her other cheek.

 

“Everything,” Willow repeated.  Willow stopped and put the towel on the coffee table.  “There, I think I got all of it.”  She looked again and saw a couple spots.  “No wait.  I missed a couple spots.”  Willow leaned forward.

 

“Aren’t you going to get the towel?”  Tara asked as her heartbeat steadily increased its pace.

 

“Nope.  I don’t think I need it for this.”  She breathed and moved her hand up to cup Tara’s face.

 

“Oh, ok.” Tara leaned into the redhead’s palm.  “Where are these spots you missed?”  She closed her eyes, her body knowing what was coming.  She could feel Willow’s breath brushing over her skin.

 

“Right here.” Willow finished closing the gap and lightly kissed the left corner of Tara’s mouth.  “Right here.” She kissed the right corner of her mouth.  “Oh, and can’t forget the little tiny drop…here.” Tara shuddered lightly as Willow’s mouth grazed the center of hers ever-so-slightly.  She opened her eyes only to see Willow’s looking back, silently asking permission before going any further.  Tara’s answer was as silent as Willow’s question as she moved her hand under the redhead’s chin, demonstrating her approval to continue by moving her lips to the ones that so lightly brushed against hers.  The two pressed themselves closer together as the hands that cupped each other’s chins slowly moved their way back to grasp behind their heads, locking them in place.  Tara moved her other hand to Willow’s back, massaging in circles as Willow placed hers on Tara’s leg, softly moving up and down her knee.

 

After a few minutes Tara broke away.  “Oh Goddess.  Wow.”  She leaned against the backrest, trying to catch her breath.  Willow did the same meanwhile glancing at the coffee table.

 

“Most definitely wow, Tara.  Uh, Tara?”

 

“Yes, Willow?”

 

“Uh, where’s that towel?”

 

“What?  The towel?”

 

“Yeah.  Um, we, uh, kinda lost track of time.  And, uh, well, the ice cream kind of well, uh, lost it’s frozen-ness.”  Willow pointed at the melted ice cream, chocolate sauce and whipped cream stream that pooled on the surface of the coffee table.

 

“Oh no!  Crap.  Where is that towel?”  Tara felt around the couch, but couldn’t find it.  Willow saw the corner of the towel poking out from under her seat.

 

“Ooh.  Here it is!  It uh, must’ve gotten lost during the rest of our, um, clean-up.”  She blushed a bit as she launched a thousand-watt grin.  Willow pulled the towel out and immediately began sopping up the melted concoction as Tara ran to get a couple more towels and some cleaner.  Within a few minutes, the table was clean and the stickiness gone.  After the clean-up, the two decided to abort their efforts at making sundaes and settled for brewing a pot of coffee.  Once Tara filled their mugs, she gave Willow the tour of her apartment.  It wasn’t huge, yet wasn’t tiny.  The two-bedroom homestead allowed plenty of room for both Tara and Anya, giving each woman privacy since their bedrooms were on opposite ends of the house.

 

“You’ve got a great apartment, Tara.”  Willow stated as she placed her mug on the kitchen counter.

 

“Thanks.  I was lucky to find it when I did.”  She glanced at Willow’s mug and saw that it was empty.  “Did you want more coffee, Willow?”

 

Willow frowned at the question as she looked at Tara and shook her head.  “As much as I’d love some more and as much as I’d love to stay and talk for hours, unfortunately I have an early morning appointment.”

 

Tara glanced at the clock.  “Oh!  I didn’t realize it was past midnight.  You probably should get home if you have early plans.  Let me grab my keys and I’ll drive you back to the supermarket.”  Willow brushed her hand against Tara’s as the blonde walked past her to get her purse.

 

Ten minutes later, Tara arrived at the supermarket parking lot and pulled into the spot next to Willow’s car.  “We’re here, Will.”  Mimicking her earlier movements, she brushed her hand against Willow’s face, gently stirring the redhead from her dozing.

 

“Huh?”  Willow opened her eyes and rubbed them.  “Oh gods, Tara, I must’ve been more tired than I thought.  I’m sorry for falling asleep on you…again.”  She blushed slightly as she stretched her arms out.

 

“Nothing to be sorry about, Willow.  You had a long day.  It’s not every day that you fall into a meat refrigerator case, get elbowed in the stomach, hit your head on the car and created melted ice cream sundaes.”

 

“You forgot to add ‘kiss a beautiful woman.’”  Willow took Tara’s hand and smiled.

 

Tara turned beet red.  “Uh, well, there’s that too.”

 

“And all that was worth it, Tara…because it all ended up at that last part.  I got to talk to you, get to know you, spend time with you…ok, all that meant the same thing, but well, you know what I mean.”  Tara nodded and the redhead continued.  “I had a great time, Tara and I want to more of that.”

 

Tara laced her fingers with Willow’s.  “So do I.”

 

“Can I see you again?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Really?”  The redhead beamed.

 

“Yes, really.  I was about to ask you the same thing.”  Tara grinned and squeezed Willow’s hand.

 

“Great!  Wonderful! Yes!  I’m so happy!  Oh this is just so great, and I’m rambling again.  Sorry.”

 

“It’s ok, Willow.  It’s cute.”  She blushed.  Willow leaned over and hugged her.  Tara moved back slightly and kissed Willow’s cheek.  Willow held her close and proceeded to gently kiss her lips.

 

“I’d better go.”  She brushed her lips against Tara’s forehead.  “Can I call you tomorrow?”  Willow looked at the blonde with so much hope in her eyes.

 

“I’ll do you one better.  How about lunch?”

 

“You’re on!”  Willow gathered her things, getting ready to leave Tara’s car.  “Tara.  I really did have a wonderful time.  I hope you did, too.”

 

“I did.  And I can’t wait to get to know you more, Willow Rosenberg.”  She gave one last kiss to Willow’s cheek.  “Call me when you’re finished with your appointment and we’ll meet wherever.”

 

“Ok.”  She opened the door.  “Good night, Tara.”  She stepped out of the car.

 

“Good night, Willow.  See you tomorrow.”  Tara smiled as Willow closed the door.  She waited until the redhead had safely started her car and locked her door.  As they exited the parking lot and waited at the traffic light, they took one final look at each other and smiled.  It seemed that there are such things as happy accidents.

 

Chapter 5:

 

Dean Riggs cornered the two professors just outside the University cafeteria.  Willow and Tara had spent a quick twenty minutes having lunch together inside.  The location and duration of the lunch was not exactly what the ladies had in mind, but such is the life of those employed in academia.  Both Willow and Tara were waylaid by students in crisis, or as Willow sarcastically vented, “Drama Queens on Parade.”  With ten minutes left before the start of their next classes, the Dean effectively barred them from moving down the corridor.

 

“Ahh, Professor Maclay, Professor Rosenberg, just the ladies I need to speak with.”  Dean Riggs smiled warmly, yet his eyes held more of a frantic, pleading gaze.

 

“Good afternoon, Dean Riggs.  We were just on our way to our 1:00pm classes.”  Tara responded to the Dean’s greeting.

 

“Good, good.  Wonderful!  This will just take a minute.”

 

Willow sighed inwardly and glanced quickly at her watch.  “Was there something you needed, Dean?”

 

“As a matter of fact, yes.  I hate to ask you this on such short notice, but…” Both women gulped at the start of the Dean’s plea.  “…I’m desperate for help for tomorrow’s Community Kids Day.”  He looked for a sign of recognition from either of the two professors and saw none.  “Community Kids Day…the event given by the University’s fraternities and sororities.  Kids and families in the community congregate in the quad to play games and do arts and crafts and such.”

 

“What do you need help with?”  Tara’s confusion showed on her face.  “If it’s handled by the Greeks, how do we fit in?”

 

“The event itself is handled by the Greeks, but as with all student-led events, there must be a faculty or staff representative to monitor the events and handle any problems that may arise.  Unfortunately, the two people who were supposed to supervise the event just cancelled on me and I’m at my wits end trying to scramble up replacements.”

 

Willow began to interject.  “Uh, well, it is short…”

 

“I would so hate to have to cancel the event.  The children would be so disappointed.  Last year we had 200 children and families.  The people of the community look forward to this every year,” the Dean continued, effectively drowning out Willow’s response.

 

“I know it would be a shame, Dean.  But…”  The redhead began again, frustration etched on her face as this time, Tara interrupted her.

 

“But we know how important it is.  We’d love to help.”  Tara turned to the Psychology professor.  “Isn’t that right Willow?  We don’t want the children to be disappointed.”

 

Willow looked at Tara’s face and her protests evaporated.  The incandescent smile on the blonde’s face could melt a glacier.  “Uh, sure.  Yeah, absolutely.  Count us in.”

 

Unable to contain his excitement and relief, Dean Riggs jovially embraced the two women.  “Wonderful!  Just splendid!  The event runs from 10:00am to 4:00pm in the center quad.  You’ll need to be there by 9:30am to make sure everything is ready to go.”

 

Both women remarked, “9:30am.  Gotcha.”

 

Dean Riggs smiled again and continued, “Thank you so much, ladies.  You don’t know how much this helps.  I’ll let the Greek coordinator know the event is still on.  You two are lifesavers!”  With that, the dean quickly sped down the hallway, intent on the rest of his tasks.

 

“Unfair.”  Willow simply stated.

 

“Will?”  Tara turned to the redhead.  She flinched briefly when she realized Willow’s face was millimeters away from hers.  “Uh, Will?”

 

“Unfair.”  Tara backed up a bit as Willow moved forward again, effectively trapping her against the wall.  Tara gulped.

 

“Um, I’m sorry Willow…but I’m a sucker for children.  I couldn’t disappoint them.”

 

Willow leaned forward and with a smile whispered in Tara’s ear.  “And apparently, I’m a sucker for you.  It’s so unfair.  You flash that smile of yours, my mind turns to mush and all I hear is ‘Tara say yes, Willow say yes.  Tara say yes, Willow say yes.’  Ok, that sounded a bit Neanderthal-ish, but you understand.”

 

“Oh, I understand.  My feminine wiles have some sort of hold over you.”  She quickly turned her head and kissed Willow’s cheek.  “I’ll have to try that again some time.”  Tara ducked under Willow’s arm and came out from between the wall and the redhead.  “See you in the mornin’, Will.”  Tara left a dazed and breathy Willow behind, mouth agape watching the blonde walk away.

 

***************

 

Willow waited by the steps of the University library at 9:15am, the time Tara said she’d meet her there.  The Psychology professor rubbed her still sleep-filled eyes, wondering why the hell she had had to get up at 8:00am on a Saturday morning.  Her normal weekend routine usually consisted of maximum sleep acquisition, emerging from her Egyptian cotton cocoon some time around noon when the threat of bladder detonation forces her immediate metamorphosis from coma patient to fully-upright conscious member of society.  But, alas, the siren call of a certain blonde Anatomy professor acted as her alarm clock this particular morning.  So here she stood.  And stood.  And continued to stand for a full ten minutes until finally she saw blonde tresses attached to a t-shirt-and-shorts-clad body walking briskly down the brick sidewalk.  Her slight expression of annoyance was instantly replaced by giddiness when she saw what Tara was carrying: two Steamed Bean “ChocoMochaLocas.”

 

A bit winded, Tara stopped in front of the redhead.  “Hey Will, sorry I’m late.”  She handed one of the hot beverages over.  “I thought as my way of saying ‘thanks’ I’d spring for some chocolate-y espresso goodness.  But, and I should be used to this by now, I ended up behind some lady who was ordering the world’s most complicated drink.  I think it was something like ‘I’ll have a low-fat, no-fat, half-n-half, skim milk, soy milk, caramel, white chocolate, raspberry, espresso-y, half-cap, café Americano macchiato mocha…’ or something.”  Willow laughed, having experienced that situation many times.  “So, after about 10 minutes I got through the line and rushed my way over here.  Forgive me?”

 

“Of course…especially since you brought me this.”  Willow grinned and took a big sip of her drink.  “Ack!  Hot!  Owww, mah thung.”  She stuck her tongue out to cool it just as the community coordinator for the University’s Greek program ran up to them.

 

“Professor Maclay, Professor Rosenberg, I’m so glad you were able to help us at such late notice.  Thank you!”  The exuberant brunette gave each woman quick, yet forceful hugs.

 

“Er, uh, you’re welcome, Cordelia.  Glad we could help,” Willow responded, trying to breathe through the lung-crushing embrace.  “So, what do you need us to do?”  Willow asked after being released.

 

Cordelia gestured for the professors to follow her into the quad.  “We’ve got everything set up.  The big sound system, complete with kid-friendly music.”

 

“What kind?”

 

“I think there’s a mix of mostly 50s and 60s surf music, a bit of 70s disco, and some sort of bubblegum pop hits of the 80s.  Oh, and Owen brought a CD of movie song hits of the 90s.  I don’t think content should be a problem.  The worst song I think we have is “You Sexy Thing.”  Cordelia continued gesturing toward the equipment on the quad.  “Ok.  Over here is the carnival food…cotton candy, hot dogs, soda, sno-cones, etc.  The kiddie games are in the center of the quad.  And along the side are other things like the dunk tank, super-Sumo wrestling, a rock-climbing wall and foam party dance area for the teenagers.”

 

“Wow,” Tara remarked.  “You guys went all out.”

 

“Yeah.  We have such a great time putting this together and spending time with all the kids.  It’s just cool seeing everyone have so much fun.  It’s kind of our chance to dispel the myth that fraternity and sorority members do nothing but drink and play pranks on potential members.  But anyway…enough of that.  What the faculty representatives have to do is walk around the event, making sure everything is running smoothly, and observing the Greek brothers and sisters.  Not that we need to be supervised, mind you, but occasionally, people lose focus.”

 

“Ok.”

 

“You shouldn’t have too much to do, really.  It’s such a tradition now, that the event practically runs itself.  I mean, we’ve even got the CDs programmed on repeat-shuffle so no one has to be stuck changing the music.”  Cordelia began walking away from the two professors.  “Oh great,” Cordelia rolled her eyes as she walked.  “Harmony’s arm is caught in the cotton candy machine.  Ewww, pink floss is spreading up her sleeve!  I’ve gotta run.  Talk to you later!”  Cordelia ran toward the back of the quad.  “Harmony, you moron!  How many times do I have to tell you, use a stick, not your hand!”

 

***************

 

The next couple of hours went rather quickly.  By 11:00am the campus quad was full of children and families playing games, laughing and just generally having a wonderful time.  Willow and Tara walked around the different activity booths, visiting each one and commenting on the creativity of the students contributions.  The professors met many of their students’ younger siblings and family members as they traversed the grounds.  “This is nice, isn’t it?” Tara waved her hand, directing the meaning of her statement toward the Community Day setup.  “You just don’t see this very often anymore.  College kids taking a genuine interest in the children of the community, it’s a rare thing.”  Willow nodded in agreement.

 

“It is nice, Tara.  The activities are fun, the games are great.  The line at the rock-climbing wall, wow.  Those kids just love it.  Oh, and the music!  I haven’t heard some of these songs since I was little.”  She laughed as another song started.  “When was the last time you heard Debbie Gibson?”  Willow grabbed Tara’s hand, raised her arm and spun the blonde around.  “C’mon Tara, ‘Shake your love!’”  Tara squealed as she whirled around, all the while being guided by Willow’s hand.

 

“Willow!  Stop!  You’re going to get me dizzy!”  Tara laughed, trying to move her arm enough to grasp Willow and stop the momentum.  She reached far enough to block another spin and stopped herself.  However, the damage was done and Tara’s knees revolted.  Willow caught her.  She looked down and found a dizzy blonde in her arms.

 

“Hey,” Willow stated, smirking.

 

“Hey yourself,” Tara replied, smiling goofily as she caught her breath and allowed her head to stop spinning.  After a beat, Tara smirked and remarked, “You know Will, there are easier ways to get me in your arms.”

 

Willow leaned toward Tara’s ear.  “Yes, but not all of them are this fun.”

 

The blonde professor craned her neck around and whispered in the redhead’s ear, “That’s true.”  In a bold move, she kissed Willow’s earlobe.  “Some are more fun.”  With that, she swung around the now stunned redhead, playfully swatted her behind and grabbed a hand.  “C’mon Will, let’s go get a sno-cone.”

 

The women walked across the quad and over to the sno-cone booth.  Both ordered rainbow cones and as they were eating they spent their time helping some of the kids clean up from both the food and the face painting.  A good thirty minutes passed before all the kids were spotless and ready to rejoin their families.  A few minutes earlier, Cordelia walked over and helped them finish up.  “Thank you so much Professors, we got a little shorthanded for a while.”

 

“Is everything all right, Cordelia?”

 

“It’s fine, Professor Rosenberg.  I think we underestimated the number of helpers we needed.  We didn’t expect this many people.  We’ve probably already had a hundred more people than last year and the day is only two-thirds over!”  The brunette sighed and shook her head slowly.  “Of course, we would have three more people helping if Harmony hadn’t gotten her hair caught in the taffy-pulling machine.  Larry and Scott had to carry the machine with Harmony still stuck to it over to the maintenance department in hopes they might have something to remove her with.

 

“Ouch.  That sounds horrible.  I hope she’s ok.”  Tara winced at the visual Cordelia’s words produced.  The blonde waited for Cordelia to respond and noticed another song ending as the music drifted across the quad.

 

“Yeah, she’ll be fine.  She’s always doing stupid things like that.  I swear, if I know better, I would think she only had two brain ce…” Cordelia’s words were lost on Tara as she heard a new song begin.  A small hi-hat sound lead into a swirling crescendo of drum and guitars.  The familiar combination of sounds prickled the base of Tara’s neck.  ‘Dear Goddess…It can’t be,’ she thought. 

 

The snare and cymbal shots that introduced the first verse snapped Tara to full awareness.  “Oh no.  Ohhhh, no.”  Tara eyes grew wide, her body tensed and she started quickly moving away.  Willow sensed the change in the blonde.

 

“Tara?  What’s wrong?”  Willow went to put her hand on Tara’s shoulder, but she wasn’t there.

 

“I love myself,” the woman cooed.  “I want you to love me.”  The blonde heard the singer’s declaration and her fears were confirmed.

 

“W-W-Willow, the song.  The song.  I have to get to the stereo.”  Tara stammered but kept moving as she searched for the stereo.  ‘Oh Goddess, it’s all the way across the quad.’  She broke into a full run.

 

The song continued.  “When I feel down, I want you above me.”

 

“Song?  What song?  Tara?  Where are you going?”  Willow took off after the blonde.  “Tara!  Wait!” 

 

Tara ignored the redhead’s protest.  ‘Gotta get to the stereo.  The kids!  Oh gods, the parents!’  The professor discounted the odd stares she received as she rushed across the campus lawn.  The direct route she took, though, was not without peril.  Her pursuit toward the stereo sent her careening through a battle so intense, the casualties will take hours to dry out.  ‘Water balloons!’ She tried to dodge them but the numbers were too great.  Tara took five direct hits, soaking her from top to bottom.  But, she pressed on, wearing the rubber shrapnel like a badge of honor.

 

“I search myself, I want you to find me.”

 

Tara was in full fight or flight mode.  She had never run so fast in all her life.  The adrenaline spurred her on as she continued to race through the quad.  Her agility, as she dodged child after child, stroller after stroller, would make an NFL wide receiver wrought with envy.  She even weaved her way around a returning Larry, Scott and Harmony, who, by the way, now was sporting the latest in mullet couture, thanks to her makeshift rescue by hedge clippers.

 

“I forget myself, I want you to remind me.”

 

‘I’m almost there.  Dear Goddess, please let me make it,’ the blonde silently prayed.  Only a few yards separated Tara from the stereo.  She willed her soaked form to run just a little bit harder.  ‘Oh get out of my way!’ A man knelt down to tie his shoe just in front of Tara’s path.  ‘There’s no time!’  With no other option, Tara bore down on the man, placed her hands on his rounded back and thrust herself over him.  The finest display of leapfrog ever in the history of the University’s quad.  Three steps away, she was three steps from the forward button.  Tara leaned forward and stretched her arm for dear life.

 

“I don’t want anybody else, when I think about you I tou—“  The music cut off and a new song began.

 

“Here we come, walkin’ down the street…”

 

As she heard the nice, innocent tune through the speakers, Tara bent over, braced her hands against her legs and gulped breaths of air.  A few seconds later, Willow caught up with her.  Winded, she tried to speak.  “Tara, are you all right?”

 

“The song,” she gasped.  “I heard the song and realized what it was.”  The blonde stood up and again forced air through her lungs.  “I didn’t know if anyone else did.”  She put her hand to her chest.  “I couldn’t let the kids here it.  What would the parents think?”

 

“Oh gods, Tara.  I didn’t even realize what song it was until you were already halfway across the quad.”  Willow shook her head as she contemplated the consequences had that song finished playing.

 

“That’s what I was afraid of, Will.  That no one would’ve recognized it until it was too late.”  Tara’s breathing began to even out, as did Willow’s.

 

The redhead began to smile ever so slightly, as she thought of something.  “One question, though, Tara.  How did YOU know the song so quickly?”

 

“Anya,” the blonde stated simply.  “She plays it daily.  Usually in the shower.”

 

Willow laughed.  “Why am I not surprised?”  She took hold of Tara’s hand and began to guide her to a picnic table.  “Let’s rest for a bit.  If anyone asks, we’re the music patrol.  We can just sit and be sure nothing else gets by.  I don’t wanna be across the quad if ‘How Many Licks’ starts playing.”  The two professors sat across from each other at the table.

 

“Good plan.  Besides, I need some time to dry off,” the blonde stated as she began to pick bits of rubber from her body.

 

“Well, we’ve only got an hour left.  Thank the Goddess.  What a day.”  Willow reached across, plucked a balloon bit out of Tara’s hair, than began playing with the ends.  A silent minute passed and Willow spoke again.  “Hey, Tara?”

 

“Hey, Willow?” The other professor teased.

 

“Would you wanna, say, come over for dinner after we’re done?  I’ll cook.”  The blonde looked up to find a silent plea etched across the redhead’s face.  Tara lifted her hand and cupped Willow’s jaw.

 

“Neither water balloon fights, nor The Divinyls could keep me away.”  She lightly kissed Willow as they listened for the next song to begin.

 

To Be Continued...

 

Back to Fan Fiction

Back to Main

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1