Still can't get the formatting to work on DW, so that will have to wait to be edited in when I get a new laptop (whenever *sighs* that is) but in the meantime this is the original version, with two corrections I didn't have the confidence to make at the time.
It was written sometime in the autumn of 2002, probably two, or three, months after "Seeing Red" aired in the UK. There are links to the various places it has been seen on the web before.
(It is also to be noted that a btvs, which I believe was willow/buffy; or wuffy (wiffy?) slanted, online fan radio show did a podcast reading of this fic which I never did get to hear. If anyone has a recording of that please, please let me have a copy!)
It was not the first story I completed after "Seeing Red" aired, but it was the first I feel happy with now. I'll go into why at another time, when I have re-written that other story; which will then be posted with the original fic for comparison, though that leaves a nasty taste in my mouth now.
To me now, though I am still pleased with it, this seems a little naive with none of the writing ability I think I had shown many years before when I had written not just Blake's 7 fanfic, but original stories set in a world from which I took my online name.
I really want to beta this, if that is a proper term for doing that myself. Whatever I shall do so as I cannot but see changes I would make now, that I was in too much of a rush to see back then. I cannot now be certain how much time had passed between the shock of "Seeing Red" kick-started me into writing again, and when I had last written anything meaningful, but it was almost certainly longer in passage than that which has occurred between first posting this on the now sadly-deceased willtara yahoo mailing list and when I started posting new fics on livejournal.
Not that I didn't write anything in that time; just that it offered no joy and has thus been forgotten.
As stated the lack of my usual titling style will be corrected as soon as a better computer can be purchased. These are also different here than in any of the original posting sites.
TITLE: The Dance of the Happy Little Toaster
RATING: PG-15 (for some adult themes)
FANDOM: BtVS S4; post-Hush.
CHARACTERS/SHIP: Willow Rosenberg; Tara Maclay; Willow/Tara (willtara);
A/N: There are several references herein, to a Beatles song; to the concluding scene of Ellen DeGeneres' coming out, or 'Puppy' episode; to, via the title, to a movie that I had not, at that time seen; referenced by Xander in "Something Blue" (worth mentioning that over the holidays ~ either christmas, or easter, following first 'publication' I actually got to see that film), and the last line is unashamedly stolen from the very first Lesbian film I ever saw Lianna.
I recently posted a prequel to this http://kerkevik-2014.
Willow stirred from her slumber just as false dawn was creeping into the room. She opened her eyes carefully, not quite fully aware of where she was until her nudity hit her.
She was naked! In Tara's bed!
The sudden enormity of her situation made her giggle, albeit quietly.
"Wow!" She gasped, hushing herself instantly.
And it had been wow!
They'd been intimate before, they'd been (half) naked before, but it had been nothing more than high-class, chocolate-frosted, necking.
Last night had been an entirely different matter.
Low-class, chocolate honey-filled, high-caffeine... lust-lovin'.
She glanced over at the sleeping face of her lover...
Her lover. Tara was her lover.
Trying not to laugh out loud Willow wondered if she was now an official lesbian, if Tara would now get an official Ellen, 'I've turned a straight girl' toaster. She giggled once more. Then she smirked as she noticed the tiniest hint of drool on Tara's cheek. If she wasn't frightened of waking her up, Willow would have kissed it away.
Then she stroked some hair away from Tara's face and dared to kiss her anyway. Ever so slightly, ever so carefully, ever so daintily, on the forehead. She closed her eyes and breathed in the still sweaty scent of her lover.
Her lover. Tara was her lover.
It was a fact now. No going back.
She snorted as she fought back a laugh. Hell, she wanted to shout. To cry out. She was too happy. She contented herself with another gentle kiss, this time, on her lover's cheek.
She held her breath as Tara stirred slightly.
For several minutes then, she took in the sight of Tara breathing, in, out, deep in sleep. Oh god, but she was beautiful.
Her lover. Tara was her lover.
She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah...
She was drunk. She wanted to tell the world. She felt like dancing, and singing.
Instead she contented herself with continuing to watch Tara sleeping. For over half an hour she simply watched her breathng, occasionally gifting herself the slightest of kisses. On the cheek, on the forehead, once, daringly, on the lips.
She even stroked Tara's shoulder at one point.
Finally she felt forced to action. She could no longer keep her hands off her lover.
Her lover, she repeated yet again.
"Tara Maclay is my lover," she whispered, breaking into a grin wider than the Grand Canyon.
Was it possible to be too happy?
She felt compelled to laugh, to cry, to shout, to scream. She couldn't even begin to decide which. And she knew she couldn't bear to disturb the peaceful sleep Tara was enjoying.
She wondered if Tara was dreaming about her.
Carefully Willow disengaged herself from the bedclothes, and clambered reluctantly free of Tara. She picked up a discarded t-shirt and grasped her overnight bathroom bag. One last look at Tara's peaceful features and she opened the door and slowly wandered down the hall to the showers.
There, despite the early hour, she showered. Slowly, langorously, she ran her fingers over her body, touched her lips, brushed her nipples, stroked her belly, teased herself (hissing at just how ready she was) between the legs...
Everywhere Tara had touched her the night before.
She stepped dripping from the shower and went to stand in front of the mirror. She placed a finger on her tongue, tasting it. Just to se if it felt any different. She finally let out the long-suppressed laughter.
It tasted like it had recently showered.
She was almost disappointed.
She stared at the face she she saw in the mirror for several minutes, studying the inanely stupid grinning face of a woman she could hardly recognise.
Yet seemed to know for the first time.
She seemed to be glowing. Was she glowing? She laughed again. Of course she was glowing! She was fresh from the shower.
Fresh from her lover. Her lover Tara Maclay.
She repeated it out loud and laughed as she wiped wet hair from her face.
The she stared defiantly at the face in the mirror and declared...
"Willow Rosenberg eats pussy!"
|Production Code: 4ABB10|
|Production Code: 6ABB19|
Goddess watch over us all,