Summary: The Scoobies have a small accident that leads
to some major changes in their lives
Rating: NC17
Timing: Takes place S5, shortly after Family but before Fool for Love
Disclaimer All kinds of gender stereotypes were harmed
in the writing of this story. Any injured copyrights were unintentional
Notes Mydeira is my Beta Nazi, but she knows I'm her bitch.
This story was inspired by a very old Star Trek fanfic titled The Procrustean Petard,
by Sondra Marshak and Myrna Culbreath. Of course, they didn't actually have sex in theirs . . .
The title is a quote from Storm Front, by Jim Butcher.
You haven't lived until you've heard James say those three words
together in that soft, caramel rich voice of his . . . guh.
Chapter 15 Big Man on Campus
Tara woke up feeling warm and comfortable and relatively at peace.
The fact that Willow was in her arms probably had a lot to do with that.
They must have moved automatically in their sleep the way they did every other night. This was the way they always woke up, with Willow spooned up against Tara’s chest, Tara’s arms holding her protectively. The body may be different, but the sense of comfort was just the same.
Willow felt so small in these bigger arms, though, so much softer against Tara’s hard body. She bent her head and inhaled the soft fragrance of Willow’s hair. Better than any aromatherapy, this was the scent that eased her heart. She pulled Willow nearer, snuggled closer.
And suddenly realized that her body wasn’t the only thing that was hard.
The soft curve of Willow’s ass pressed back into Tara’s pelvis, creating friction of the flannel pajamas against her very erect and prodding shaft. She moaned softly and instinctively ground harder against her girlfriend’s backside.
It felt . . . oh goddess it felt so good.
“Good morning,” Willow said huskily.
Tara jerked back in guilt, but Willow just followed her, humming softly.
“I’m sorry,” Tara apologized, shame flooding through her.
“For what?”
“For taking advantage.”
Willow rolled over, a look of horror on her face. “You took advantage? Was I asleep? Did I miss it?”
“No,” Tara replied, her shame transforming into confusion.
“Oh, good!” Willow sighed in relief, draping an arm around Tara’s ribs and nestling up under her chin. “If you’re going to take advantage, I don’t want to miss any of it.”
Tara let her arms close around Willow’s small form. “I don’t understand how you can be so comfortable with this. But I’m glad.”
“Honey, I love you. I’d want to be with you even if you’d been turned into a goat.” She thought about that for a moment. “Although they don’t really allow animals in the dorms. And I think bestiality is illegal in California . . .”
Tara couldn’t help but chuckle.
Willow squeezed her tighter. “You are feeling better this morning, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” Tara squeezed her back. “Yeah, I think I am.”
“Good! Because you still have to brave the horrors of the men’s showers. You’ve got more than half a beard going already.”
Tara reached up and stroked her jaw, feeling how the stubble had turned into some substantial growth. “And this is normal?”
“Oh yeah.” Willow slipped out of bed and stretched lithely. “My dad can grow a full beard in two days.”
“Wow.”
“Uh-huh.” Willow looked around, thinking. “So, why don’t you go down and shower first, and then I’ll go when you get back so you can have some privacy to get dressed and do your meditation.”
Tara felt her throat tighten at Willow’s thoughtfulness. “Thank you for understanding.”
Willow smiled. “I had a good teacher. And Xander hit me with a clue by four. That helped, too.”
“I’ll have to thank him later.”
“Just be careful how you do it. You’re a good looking guy, you don’t want to make Anya jealous.”
Tara couldn’t help but blush.
This morning was much more successful than yesterday morning.
Tara had no uncomfortable encounters in the shower, and by stealing glances at the other guys working, managed to figure out how to give herself a decent shave without incurring too much blood loss.
Her morning meditation was also much better. The energy flow that had so frightened her before came again, but now that she understood it, she could direct it through her channels, then allow it to pool in her center as she gave thanks for the day ahead and asked for guidance and support. When she finished, the extra energy flowed out of her and back down into the earth, just the way it was supposed to, leaving her feeling grounded and centered and totally at peace.
Willow had to dash off to her IT class right after breakfast. Rather than sit around the room all day, Tara decided to go to her own classes. She couldn’t take any exams, but there was no reason she couldn’t at least sit in on the lectures and keep up with the coursework. Most of her professors wouldn’t even notice her presence.
Cultural anthropology was covering fieldwork theory, and the discussion on participant observation got heated, although Dr. Klymyshyn looked pleased by it. But Tara didn’t quite see the possibility of “going native”, being so affected by the community you were watching that you gave up all sense of detachment and became a part of them. She was who she was, wasn’t she? She might take on the trappings of her subject group, but underneath, she was still Tara Maclay. Nothing would really change that.
And wasn’t that what Willow had been trying to tell her?
She and Will met back at the cafeteria for lunch. Tara listened attentively but with little actual comprehension as Willow went on excitedly about some aspect of grouping theory they had covered. She didn’t realize how quickly she was eating until suddenly there was nothing left on her plate, and she was still hungry. “I’ll be right back, baby. I guess I need to eat more now.”
Willow smiled playfully. “Well, you are a growing boy!”
She grabbed a couple of hot dogs and a salad, then as an afterthought added a handful of chips and a piece of chocolate cake. But when she turned back to the table, she saw that Willow wasn’t alone.
Katie Myers was the hall skank, with no plans for her college career but to spend as much of it in as many beds as possible. She didn’t make a secret of it, and didn’t have time for anyone she saw as competition. She’d never paid any attention to Willow before. So why was she talking to her now?
Tara got her answer as soon as she got within hearing distance of the table. “You know, Willow, you could do us all a favor and make up your mind. Jumping back and forth like this just makes you look tacky.”
“It’s none of your business, Katie,” Willow replied coldly. But Tara could see the tears welling up in her eyes. Something inside her rose up, hot and strong.
She stormed over to the table, dropping her tray on the surface and making both the women jump. “Is there a problem here?”
Katie’s face shifted snake-like into what she saw as her best come-hither expression. “Not now. My, you’re a big one, aren’t you?”
“Willow?”
“I’m fine. Really.” Tara knew the brave little toaster face when she saw it, though.
“Oh, forget about her,” Katie brushed her off, laying a hand on Tara’s chest and pressing her breast against Tara’s forearm. "Let’s go somewhere and I can show you what a real woman is like.”
“I’m not interested in your definition of womanhood.”
“Oh, come on!” She stomped her foot. “The only reason she swings both ways is because she can’t get a date otherwise.”
“The reason she swings both ways is that both sexes find her attractive. Unlike some people who have to be cheap and obvious to get any kind of attention at all.”
“Fine.” Katie backed away, her face livid with fury. “But don’t be surprised if she forgets who she’s screwing and tries to fuck you like a girl.”
“It’s better than being fucked like a piece of meat.”
“You . . . you . . . FAGGOT!” And she stormed away.
Tara turned to Willow. “Now, that just didn’t even make sense.”
Willow was looking up at her with shock and wonder. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”
Tara took her hand and drew her to her feet, caressing her hair softly. “No one is mean to my girl.” And she bent her head to capture Willow’s lips.
The anger within her instantly transformed, taking the kiss with it. Her arms enfolded Willow, crushing her close as her firm lips devastated Willow’s petal soft ones. This was right. Willow was hers, and now everyone with eyes knew it.
It was the thought of all those eyes that brought her back to herself. She gentled and finally pulled away. Willow’s eyes were dark and glittering, although her jaw hung loosely on its hinges. Tara smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”
She felt Willow’s fingers in her hair an instant before her lover smashed their mouths back together.
This time it was a little less primal, but no less intense. Willow guided and let herself be led, this time a much more active participant. Tara felt signals coming in from all parts of her new body saying this was a good thing, but one spoke more loudly than the others. Willow noticed it, too, and ground her hips subtly against Tara’s burgeoning hard-on. Tara groaned.
Finally, it was Willow who pulled away. Her eyes shone in a way that was all too familiar to Tara, but with a sigh Willow stepped away. “I would really like to continue this conversation, but I have a calc exam in ten minutes. Would you . . . could we maybe pick this up later? If you want?”
Tara swallowed, nervous and giddy and aroused in a whole new way. “Um. Yeah. I think maybe I might like that.”
Willow grabbed up her book bag. “Are you still going to the Magic Box?”
Tara just nodded.
“How about I meet you there. We can get some dinner downtown before the meeting.”
“That sounds . . . good. Yeah.”
Willow smiled and stretched up on her toes to kiss Tara again, lightly this time. “I’ll see you then.”
As Tara watched her leave, she began to think she might need to revisit her position on participant observation.
There seemed to be something to be said for going native, after all . . .
If you want more story, then you must