The early morning sun filtered in through the blinds, forming lines of light and shadow across Tara’s face as she slept. Willow tried her hardest not to move from the position she had awoken in, just watching how peaceful the witch’s face looked. It was a nice change from the previous night’s sadness. Tara looked incredibly soft, not like Oz and Xander’s rougher, more angular features. Plus, no scratchy stubble. A gentle smile curved her mouth slightly upwards at the corners. Her eyelashes were fascinating - long, dark, and delicate. Her hair shone white-gold where ever the sun’s light touched it. And her slender neck curved gracefully down to her clavicles in a smooth, soft line.

In short, Tara was incredibly beautiful. She was prettier than Buffy was, and even prettier than Cordelia, who was not really nice at all but was undeniably good looking. And Tara was so nice! Nicer than pretty much everyone Willow had ever met. Not to mention really brave. And from what Buffy and Xander and Faith said, she was pretty good with the magic stuff, too. Maybe today they could try something together, since they hadn’t even been able to do that warding spell to protect the apartment last night, with everything happening so fast. She continued to study the Wiccan’s face as she thought, completely unaware of the passage of time.

As Willow watched, Tara’s eyebrows shifted slightly, and she inhaled deeply. She stretched, tightly closing her eyes before relaxing and letting her eyes flutter open to meet Willow’s brown-green ones. "Mmm. Hey, you’re up already." She rolled her shoulders, sitting partway up in the bed. "Did, did you sleep okay?"

"Mm hmm, perfect. You?"

There was that sweet half-smile again. "Never better. Did - did you want some pancakes, maybe? Weekend breakfasts are kind of my specialty."

Willow grinned and sat up beside Tara. "Wow, and you cook too! Me, I could make cold cereal wrong. Not that there’s really a way to make it wrong, just it’s kind of a hyperbole for me being no good in the kitchen. I guess I take after my mom there, so yes, pancakes would be great! Maybe I could watch and learn."

The fair-haired witch giggled. "I’m sure you aren’t that bad. But if you want me to show you how to, um, make pancakes … I could."

~~

About an hour later, the girls sat at the rather unconventional kitchen table eating the last of the pancakes. "I still can’t believe how you did that flip thing, with the pancake way up in the air like that!" Willow said, gleefully sopping up syrup with a square of pancake.

Tara laughed. "I was just showing off! I never really do that when I’m making them for myself, so I’m kind of surprised it actually worked. I’m not used to having an audience." She looked a bit shy when she said the last part, sort of hiding behind her hair for a moment before tucking it back behind her ears again.

"It was amazing, it was just like those cooking shows my dad watches sometimes. He gets all excited when they do showy stuff like that. And when they set stuff on fire." A quick grin came to Willow’s face. "I kinda like that, too."

Tara began to clean up the table and counter, taking the dishes to the sink to soak in hot water. "I can’t say I’ve ever set anything on fire. At least, not on purpose, and it’s still been a really long time since that happened." She spoke over her shoulder as she washed the dishes, and Willow came up on her right, picking up a cloth and drying the dishes as Tara finished rinsing them. "You, you don’t have to do that, Willow," the Wiccan said quietly.

The redhead smiled and continued drying the plate she was working on. "I know. I just want to help." She grinned and continued, "Once, I was at Xander’s house and I was heating up some broccoli in the microwave, and it caught on fire! It looked really neat, because the flame was all blue and it went off in bursts and made this sound like BZZTTT, but then it was bad because, you know, it wasn’t even my microwave! So I just shut it off really quick before anyone noticed, and I never told anyone about it, not even Xander, and I think the microwave was still fine. And to this day I have no idea what happened, because it was only broccoli and I’ve done it a hundred times and it’s never ever caught on fire before or since. Maybe it was faulty or something." She looked over at Tara, reaching for the last plate, and saw the blonde struggling to hold in laughter.

Unable to contain it any more, Tara burst out laughing, the plate splashing from her hands into the bottom of the sink. "You set broccoli on fire! In the microwave! That is priceless! I wish I could have been there to see it!" She reached in for the plate, still giggling, and re-rinsed it before handing it to Willow and draining the sink. "Maybe I should just cook for you all the time, that way you’d avoid blowing up appliances."

"Hey! I’ve never blown up any appliances!" she laughed, setting the plate on top of the other one she had already dried. "But if everything else you make is that good, you can cook for me any time!"

"Oh, I wouldn’t want your dad’s talents to go to waste…" she teased, drying her hands on a light blue towel hanging below the sink on her left. "But really, you’re welcome any time. I can’t guarantee there won’t be ramen involved, though. But I can do a lot with it, other than the traditional soupy way." Suddenly realizing she had Willow over, and all she was talking about was food, she grimaced and mentally smacked a hand to her forehead.

Willow giggled. "What’s with the face? You look like you just remembered you have a chem test and forgot to study, and the bell’s about to ring."

The witch smiled apologetically. "Oh, it’s just that, well, you’re here and we have all day and I’ve spent the last hour and a half talking about food. I mean, we should do something," she blurted out. "M-maybe, like, I could show you some of my books, or we could, um, you know, m-m-maybe practice a spell or two together? We could probably both learn something." Agh, could I sound any stupider?

But to Tara’s surprised pleasure, Willow beamed. "That would be great."

Chapter 2

Willow reflected back on her weekend. She’d had a really great time with Tara on Saturday, though she could tell the blonde was still wracked with guilt over what had happened to her uncle. For the most part she was okay, but in quiet moments a deep sadness clouded those soft blue eyes.

Willow had done her best to comfort her friend, who she had come to care very deeply about in so short a period of time. She was so full of life, so sweet and at times shy, yet bold in her own way, going on her own path regardless of any obstacles that stood in her way. Willow really admired that about her, what little Tara had revealed about her past had pretty much shown that she was a very determined person and was true to herself no matter what.

Tara had proudly shown Willow her collection of books that she had toted down the coast with her on the way to Sunnydale. Tara’s mother’s small, precise handwriting lined the margins of many pages, making notes, tips, or clarifications to the text. Tara had written in occasional blurbs, her handwriting also small but more fluid, mostly about mistakes she’d made and how to correct them in the future. These were not written directly in the book, but on small sheets of notepaper and tucked between the pages. Small sketches, mostly of birds and winged sprites with playful smiles, were sometimes on the back of the slips of paper. When she’d questioned Tara about them, the fair-haired young woman dismissed them as "scribbles" and her cheeks had tinted slightly red.

Together that had done one spell, one that had two pieces of paper detailing what not to do, indicating that Tara had attempted it twice by herself with minimal success. One slip was quite yellowed, the writing slightly larger and rounder than on the second paper. Willow had thought that to be a good one to try, because that way they would be covering new ground when they succeeded, as she was confident they would. And succeeded they had, the redhead grinned, remembering the triumphant smile on Tara’s face, the sparkle in her cerulean eyes.

It wasn’t anything big, no vampiric soul restoration or polymorphing or transdimensional gateways, just a fleet of tiny sparkling blue-green lights, it seemed like thousands of them, floating leisurely around the studio for about forty-five minutes. Once they had been summoned, the lights just wafted around shining, and Tara seemed to particularly enjoy the lighting effects they created, making the entire apartment appear to have reflections off a body of water. She watched delightedly, remarking about the great number of lights, and how she’d only gotten between three and five by herself, and the duration of the spell, which continued for the better part of an hour as opposed to fifteen minutes. If it was possible, Willow would have liked to make the spell permanent, just to make Tara that happy all the time.

Yes, it had been a pretty good weekend. And now it was the kind of lazy week before vacation. Everyone was only in school because they had to be, and with winter break coming up, no major projects were being assigned. It seemed even the teachers were looking forward to a couple weeks with nothing to do. The only on who still managed to be a grouch was Principal Snyder, but he seemed to fit the Grinch profile quite well, so it was mostly expected behavior. Anyone who thought Snyder would actually show some holiday cheer would at this point have to be delusional, holiday spirit or not.

Willow headed to her locker alongside Buffy and Xander as the bell rang, trying to hear Buffy’s story about Angel over the excited throng of students pouring into the hallway. After that, they made their way to the student lounge to relax for a bit, but were momentarily interrupted by Cordelia going out of her way to be rude to Xander. This tended to happen a lot now, ever since the kissing fluke. She knew it hurt Xander, so Queen C made an extra effort to put him and the Scooby gang down at every occasion. No sooner than Cordelia left, than Oz quietly approached.

"Hey," he said casually, stepping up onto the first stair to the lounge.

Willow couldn’t hide her surprise at seeing him, and more, being addressed by him. This hadn’t happened in quite a while. "Hey," she answered, not knowing what else to say. The Scoobs greeted the musician, and he smiled, but kept his focus on Willow.

"Could we … talk?" At Willow’s affirming nod, he led her away from the lounge.

~~

"This is what I do know: I miss you. Like, every second. Almost like I lost an arm, or worse, a torso. So, I think I'd be willing to ... give it another shot." Oz looked at Willow with a small, hopeful smile. "What do you think?"

Willow looked more confused than anything else by these words. "Oz, I-I don’t know what to say. I mean, I sorta thought we’d never be at this place. I, you know, I kinda hoped we would, e-eventually. But…"

Oz stepped towards Willow, reaching for her hand with both of his. "Hey, if you need some time, I’m cool with that. I mean, it was kind of a big thing. But just so you know … I’m ready when you are. I’d really like to try again." He gently squeezed her hand before letting go and exiting the room, leaving Willow alone with her thoughts.

~~

"Will, that’s great!" Buffy grinned. "Wait, you don’t look like it’s great. Why isn’t this great?"

Willow shook her head, obviously baffled by her own reactions. "I don’t know! I mean, yeah, part of me is like yay! Oz! But the other part is all, is that what you really want now." She got the concentration face, her eyebrows drawing together and her lips forming a thin line. "It’s all confusing. I miss him a lot, but I’m not sure I’m ready to, you know, give it another go yet." She picked invisible lint off Buffy’s comforter, eyes downcast as she admitted this to her best friend.

"Then that’s probably what you should tell him. I mean, Oz is an understanding guy," the Slayer pointed out. "Just talk to him. You’ll work it out."

The witch let out a sigh. "Yeah, I guess." But if Oz was the one she really wanted to be with, why was there so much as a slight hesitation? Why hadn’t she just said yes? She knew it didn’t have a thing to do with Xander, things on that front were completely back to normal. Maybe she should talk to Tara about it. The blonde was really good with figuring out people, their motivations, what made them tick. Her quiet observations were almost always dead on. Yes, she determined, talking to Tara would help.

Chapter 3

Tara shook her arms out and stretched her back and shoulder muscles. Slowly tilting her head first to one side, then the other, she felt slightly sore, but mostly just tired. It had been a busy day at the Espresso Pump, the busiest Tara had ever seen it in her five weeks of employment. Last minute holiday shoppers ducked into the warm, bustling shop for a coffee break or a nice mug of cocoa. Not that it was all that cold out. Quite the opposite, in fact, it was unusually warm. Maybe it was just something to keep with that holiday feel, Tara supposed with a shrug.

"What’s up, you getting sore toting all those orders out?" a friendly voice asked from behind.

Startled, Tara spun on her heel to see Mary emerge from the back, tying on her apron. "Oh, n-no, well yeah, a little bit. But you know. I’m okay." She smiled apologetically. "I’m just a little jumpy. It’s been busy out there today."

Mary nodded, expecting it. "It’s that last minute rush. The rest of the week will be even worse, and then it’ll settle down again. Who ever said it’s the most wonderful time of the year obviously didn’t have to wait tables in the shopping district," she noted, tucking a yellow pencil behind her ear, the garishly bright color mostly buried under waves of her chestnut hair. "So," she continued conversationally, "Do you have all your shopping done already?"

She almost wanted to reply, "What shopping?" but kept the urge at bay. Instead she merely nodded. "I’m mostly all set. Just a couple things to take care of." She had something for Amy and Michael, but wanted to give Willow a gift as well. It needed to be something perfect, something to express her feelings without overdoing it. She had wracked her brains trying to come up with the exact right gift, but everything she had thought of was either too over the top or not meaningful enough. She wanted to give her….

Mary grinned and squeezed past Tara, making her way to the front and her waiting customers. "I’m glad you’ve got everything sorted out, Tara," she said, her tall slender frame silhouetted in the doorway for a moment before she turned and let the door swing shut behind her.

"So am I." The witch grinned widely and picked up the waiting tray of steaming mugs, following Mary out to the crowded restaurant. Her smiled brightened even more when she saw Willow sitting at one of the tall chairs, absently doodling on a napkin. She approached and lay a menu before the elfish girl. "Hi there stranger, what can I get you this afternoon?"

Willow looked up with a grin, dropping her pen back to the tabletop. "I’ll take one of those mega-muffins, blueberry, and a little mocha. And you, after you get off your shift." She suddenly raised her eyebrows and quickly clapped a hand over her mouth, then cleared her throat. "Um, sorry, that sounded sorta questionable. I need to talk to you. Denise said your shift ends in ten minutes, so I thought I’d … you know … walk you home? Unless you’ve got plans. You don’t have plans yet, do you?"

"No plans, queen of broccoli," the Wiccan chuckled, then dodged a playful swat from her fiery haired friend. "Let me finish my shift and I’m all yours." Realizing what she’d said, she quickly excused herself to the back, placing Willow’s order and waiting on her other customers.

~~

"So, you needed to talk to me?" Tara inquired, folding her jacket over one arm as she stepped out of the coffee shop’s open front door into the warm sun. "Sounds serious. People usually only say they ‘need to talk’ when it’s serious."

Willow nodded and offered Tara a chunk of her mega-muffin, which had proved too mega for one appetite alone. "But if it’s okay, I’d rather start at your place. The talking, that is. I mean, we can talk, but not about this yet." Tara took a piece of the muffin with an amused smile. "Sorry, I maybe shouldn’t have ordered the mocha. It’s making me all sugary and stuff."

The fair-haired girl didn’t even try to suppress her laugh. "Don’t worry about it, I’m not. Sometimes a little mocha is a good thing." The streets were a lot nicer when it was still light out, and with Willow by her side. The few blocks it took to walk to Tara’s building went by pleasantly, but the witch was now a little nervous. A serious talk could mean something good, or something very much bad.

Taking a seat on the purple sofa when they arrived at the apartment, Willow smiled gently up at Tara. "Hey, what’s wrong, you look all anxious. Come on, it’s not like I’m about to tell you we think the world’s coming to an end."

"Sorry," she said apologetically as she sat down next to Willow. "Just the whole ‘it’s serious’ thing. Do you have any idea what that can do to a girl?"

"Yes, actually, I do." Willow’s attention was momentarily diverted to the tv set fish tank. "Hi Zeus, hi guys. Sorry I haven’t been over in a few days!" One of the snails drifted upwards with an air bubble in his shell, then let the bubble out and dropped back to the floor, narrowly missing a collision with an oblivious Venus and getting a laugh out of Willow.

Tara grinned, leaning over to see what was so funny, but saw the tank’s occupants looking pretty normal. "What, what happened?" she queried.

Willow turned back to face Tara, and was a bit startled to find her so … close. She didn’t jump back or anything, though, entranced by those blue eyes, nor did the blonde back away. "The … the fish. I mean, the snail," she whispered. She fumbled for anything to say, but could only manage to blurt, "Oz told me that he wants to get back together."

Tara now did sit back, her eyes flitting from the pillows to the floor to the fish tank to the window. "Oh. I, I guess that is serious." Trying to keep her heart from breaking, she reminded herself that for some reason, Willow was here and not out with Oz celebrating their reunion. She just had to find out what that reason was. Now she did look directly at Willow, who also looked like she was struggling with something. "And what did you tell him?"

"I told him, I told him I didn’t know. I mean, I didn’t know, so I didn’t really say much of anything. And he said, he said if I needed more time then he would wait." The words flowed out before she could really think about them, think about what it was that she was saying before it was already said. "But I’m not sure I need more time."

Tara took this in for a moment. "So, you want to get back together with him?"

And at that moment, her heart screamed ‘No!’ loud enough to make her head listen. "I, no, I don’t think I do." She shook her head, auburn locks flying out and settling again. "I don’t? Wow. I don’t."

Chapter 4

Willow sat back in stunned silence. For some reason … she didn’t want to be back with Oz. And she wasn’t entirely sure why, only that it was somehow the truth, a truth she hadn’t even been fully aware of until this very moment. Willow ran a hand through her auburn hair, wondering what it was that had made her awaken to that fact. Something inside her had just … told her. And that meant some part of her knew - had a good, solid, rational reason, because it wasn’t at all what she had expected.

Had she simply assumed she’d have the ‘happily ever after’ ending with the first guy she’d ever had a real romantic relationship with? Well, okay, she had to admit that was kind of a long shot, but she had definitely supposed they would have ‘happily for quite some time,’ at least. And now she only had to figure out what had made her say no. When she had been over at Buffy’s, she hadn’t known at all why she’d so much as hesitated, and now…? This was much more than hesitation.

She doesn’t want Oz back. She doesn’t want Oz back. These words seemed to be on repeat in Tara’s head. She didn’t dare hope that the redhead’s feelings for her were anything more than friendship, not yet, even though there were moments, moments like the one that had just happened, when their eyes met and they just … connected, in a very deep way. Willow herself had admitted to feeling a connection between them, once, and since they’d done the spell on Saturday, it felt that much stronger.

Not just because of the magic, either, though with Willow’s innate grasp of the power and Tara’s practiced control over it, the spell’s effects had been astoundingly perfect. Yes, it was more than just that – she recalled for the thousandth time the feel of Willow’s small, delicate hand in her own, the easy banter between them as well as the long discussions, the comfort that each girl took in the other’s presence, and the trust they had built. Tara had easily recognized an incredibly strong attraction to the smaller girl, from the very first time she’d lay eyes on her in the Espresso Pump that day. Already she belonged to Willow, heart and soul. If only the object of her affections would realize it.

The girls sat side by side on the couch, speechless, for long minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. "So you should, you should call him," Tara began, finally breaking the silence. "I mean, he probably would want to know that you’ve decided. He should know," she corrected herself.

Willow nodded. "Yeah, he does. I’m just not thinking it’s a phone type thing, though. And I’m still kinda…" she grimaced and held her heads out, watching them shake before closing them into fists and pulling them back towards her body. "It’s not what I expected I would decide. It’s kinda scary, you know, coming out of the blue like that? I thought … I thought I’d want to be with him forever. And it isn’t that I don’t care about him. I really do, but I just … I don’t want to be his girlfriend. And he deserves someone who does, with all their heart."

"What about what you deserve?" the pale witch asked in a small voice, almost inaudible over the soft hum of the fish tank’s air pump. But the look she gave Willow spoke clearly of unconditional support, complete trust, and yes, love. "I know you’re worried about Oz, but he isn’t the only person involved in this. I can tell that you’re unsure of a lot of things right now, so any time you want to talk or whatever, I’m here. And I’ll always be here. I’ll listen any time you need to talk, and I’ll help you sort through this." A hint of a smile crossed her face. "I know there’s a lot in life that can’t be promised, but I promise, Willow, you’ll always have me."

And somehow, those words, the absolute honesty behind them, reassured Willow a great deal. While that was quite a statement to make on a Hellmouth, she didn’t doubt that Tara meant every word she said.

~~

Smooth, warm skin against her own. Willow sighed and pressed closer to the warmth, letting it gradually penetrate into her, the cold that had surrounded her fleeing to some place far from here. A gentle hand brushed copper strands back, then trailed down, softly brushing against her ear in just the right spot and then slowly tracing along her jaw line. Willow’s eyes remained shut and she sighed quietly, almost a purr. Another equally gentle hand and warm arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer. The hand around her waist slowly moved up her spine, trailing those delicate and somehow familiar fingertips, then back down again in a circuit.

Then the softest lips gently contacted her skin, first on her forehead, then her cheek. Willow purr-sighed again and snuggled tightly against the warm, silky skin of the person who held her. The sweetest, most tender kiss of her entire life was then placed on her lips. Once she got her breath back, Willow’s eyes finally opened to meet the most stunningly beautiful blue gaze in the known world. Delicate pale brows arched in silent query. Willow finally managed to respond, "Tara?"

Tara nodded slowly, her lips curving into her trademark half smile. Willow was still cradled in that pleasantly warm embrace, and had no thoughts of leaving it, or Tara. She simply smiled in reply and wrapped her own arms around Tara’s body, taking a moment to appreciate the blonde’s silken skin and generous curves, quite the opposite of anything she’d ever experienced. She had held Tara before, but never had it been anything like this. The pair somehow floated in midair, surrounded by golden warmth and feelings of peace, acceptance, and hope.

And that was when Willow woke up, alone in her bedroom and feeling more empty than she ever had when Oz hadn’t been speaking to her. Unaware she was even doing so, she rolled to look at the pillow on her right side, the pillow Tara had used when she’d stayed over, and sighed longingly. She then reached out and pulled the pillow in, resting her head on it, unnoticing of the tears blurring her vision. She couldn’t escape the feeling that her dream had been significant, but couldn’t remember much of anything except for the feelings. What was she missing? And why did it hurt so much to wake up and find herself alone?

Chapter 5

"Tara, I had no idea!" a jocular voice exclaimed. "So much for the Miss Innocent crown!"

Tara crossed her arms across her chest, trying her hardest to look offended, which was hard when she was fighting off the giggles. "I’m trying to tell you something serious here! Quit reading meanings into it!"

Michael threw his head back and laughed. "I can’t help it if there’s meaning already there! You’re just trying to make it seem like there isn’t." He grinned and examined his gift. "Really, I couldn’t think of anything more appropriate myself. Look at it, Amy. Just try to tell me that flute doesn’t look like -"

Amy clapped a hand over the Goth’s mouth. "What he’s trying to say, Tara, is that the Kokopelli carving is wonderful." The god was rendered in the traditional silhouette style in beautiful dark-stained cherry, mounted on a solid base.

"I still don’t buy that he was supposed to be a fertility god, though," Michael piped up, finally free of Amy’s grasp. "Not when he’s always portrayed with the flute like that. He’s not celebrating the bounty of the crops, if you get my meaning."

Amy chuckled and shot back, "We got your meaning five minutes ago. Just say thank you and let it go."

Obediently, the midnight-clad young man turned to Tara. "Thank you, Tara, really, it’s great. He’ll go on the mantle right here in the den, I think. And I do believe we saved the best for last." Amy ducked back with a grin and retrieved a small box from her overnight bag.

"But I already got gifts from you!" Tara protested, holding up the red and pink pinstriped skirt that Amy had given her and the faerie book from Michael. "You don’t have to give me anything else!"

"Well, this one is from both of us," Amy said. "And we had it picked out a while ago. Plus we missed your birthday, so if you want, just think of it as a belated birthday present."

Tara couldn’t help but smile. "You didn’t even know me on my birthday," she reasoned, "but thank you." The golden-haired girl took the box Amy offered, carefully opening it. Inside was a tiny pentacle on a delicate-looking silver chain. "Oh, it’s beautiful!" she gasped, gently lifting it from the box to admire the workmanship. Michael and Amy beamed, watching Tara delight in her gift, then helped put the necklace on her. "Thank you so much!" she repeated, wrapping both her friends into a hug while they were in easy reach. "You’re the best friends I’ve ever had!"

"Aww," Michael smiled, "I love you guys!" And though his tone was characteristically light, both girls knew he was being truthful.

Amy was the first to release the hug, pulling slightly back to regard her friends thoughtfully. "Mmm … you’re not bad." Tara and Michael simultaneously put on looks of mock surprise, which caused Amy to burst out laughing. "Okay, okay, you win! You win! You’re the best!"

"And what, may I ask, do you two have planned for the holiday?" Michael inquired, taking his seat once more in an oversized recliner.

Amy shook her head. "Same old family get-together thing. Should be loads of fun." She did not sound excited in the slightest. "I’d rather hang out here with you. Your family always has something cool going on," she told Michael.

"You know you’re more than welcome to join us. You too, Tara. It’s always a good time at casa de Czajak," he smiled, dark eyes shining happily. "My aunt Minnie is coming out from Arizona, she makes these killer cheesecakes. Lots of cousins and aunts and uncles … it’s a big house, and Dad likes to have it full during the holidays."

Tara sighed wistfully. "I’d like to, but I’m not sure what I’ll be doing. There’s gonna be a lot of people up at my dad’s house, but I don’t even want to think about that. And I still have something I need to do before the end of break…" she trailed off.

Amy grinned wickedly. "Would this happen to have anything to do with a certain Willow Rosenberg? Because you know … you could just call her and ask her what she has planned." She winked playfully. "That’s something people sometimes do."

"I know!" the blonde huffed, smiling all the while. "I will, okay? I’ll call her."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Michael tossed the cordless phone into her lap. "I don’t believe you. Call her now, so I can make sure you do it." Tara’s blue eyes widened in astonishment, unable to believe this. "Go on, call Willow."

"Yeah, Tara, do it," Amy said, nudging her arm towards the phone. "You know we won’t stop bugging you about it til you do it." Tara still sat stunned and immobile, so Amy reached over and punched Willow’s phone number in, then handed the ringing phone to Tara, who looked at it in shock.

"Hello?" a voice answered, prompting Tara to hastily pull the handset to her ear.

"H-h-hello, Mrs. Rosenberg. Is, is Willow there?"

"Yes, just a moment. Is this Bunny or Tanya? It sounds like Tanya."

Tara cleared her throat, trying to escape the feeling that it would close up on her at any moment. "It, it’s Tara."

"Tara, right. Tara. Hold on a moment."

"Oh my gosh, Tara! What are you blushing for? It’s not like she can see you!" Michael chided.

Tara ducked her head. "Shut up! Oh, no, I didn’t mean you, Willow! It’s Michael!"

Willow laughed. "You’re at Michael’s? Or is he at your place?"

"I’m there. I mean, yeah, at, at his house. Amy’s here too."

"Hey, and you didn’t invite me?" the redhead asked. "What’re you up to?"

The Wiccan replied, "Oh, we’re doing the, the gift thing." When she hesitated, unsure what to say, Amy and Michael motioned for her to continue. "I, um, I have something for you, too … if you’re not busy, you want to maybe come over to the apartment and…?"

"Oh, wow, um…" Willow paused, and it seemed from Tara’s momentarily pessimistic point of view that she was just trying to think of a nice way to say no. "Actually, my parents are going out of town … they’re leaving tonight for this big conference thing. I’m not sure who would want to hold a conference, you know, now, but I guess there is one. So if you wanted to, you could come over here."

Tara was sure she was grinning like a mindless idiot. "Really? W-when? I mean, what’s a good time?"

Willow’s voice was enthusiastic as she answered, "Oh, any time. But … I know you’ll probably be lonely on Christmas Eve, so if you want to stay over?"

"Yeah … I’d like that." She was sure Michael and Amy would tease her, but right now that didn’t bother the blue eyed witch at all. "So, Christmas Eve," she confirmed.

"See you then," the redhead answered.

Chapter 6

Willow awoke quite early. The previous night had been consumed almost totally with research on the thing that had been haunting Angel. They had finally determined that it was the work of something called The First and its agents, but nothing final had come of the information. Willow shook her head, dismissing the research for the time. She’d had the same dream again, and was again frustrated by her failure to remember the details. Who was the person in the dream, the one who trusted in her and made her feel so loved and special? Things had been really confusing this week. The one constant had been Tara, who dropped everything to talk to her, something even Buffy hadn’t been doing since Angel had come back. Well, then, she would have to do something special for Tara when she came over tonight, as a thank you.

~~

As she had expected, Tara’s friends had relentlessly teased her about her date with Willow. "It isn’t a date!" she’d protested, though she kind of hoped it was one. She was lucky to have such good friends, she knew. Maybe without their intervention, she would never have worked up the guts to call Willow. The anticipation for tonight was about to kill her, and she wasn’t even out of bed yet. Luckily she was all set with Willow’s gift … she just hoped that Willow understood it.

There was still a long time before she could show up at Willow’s house, but what to do until then? There were always little things to do around the apartment, busywork, which she thought would be the best thing to do for the time being. The tedium would get to her after a while. But then, it was better than sitting around watching the clock. Tara got dressed and ready for her day, a long day by the looks of it, but one that would hopefully be worth the wait in the end.

Several hours later, Tara hung up her last load of clean laundry and looked down at her watch, frowning to see that it was only 12:24. She had planned on getting over to the Rosenberg’s house at around 5 o’clock, which seemed a dreadfully long time from now. She looked around the apartment appraisingly, trying to determine if she needed to do anything else. The tiny kitchen was clean, everything was dusted, and the floors were clean. So that left … nothing. Four and a half hours of nothing.

The television that had come with the apartment had kind of fuzzy reception, and no matter how many times she adjusted the color on it, everything stubbornly remained slightly greenish. Nothing really was on today anyway besides endless marathons of It’s A Wonderful Life and A Christmas Story, which she really wasn’t in the mood to watch, so that was out. The young woman sat down on the couch and peered into the fish tank.

"Well guys, it’s Christmas Eve," she said. One of the snails peeked up at her, and the fish hovered near the top of the tank, begging for food. A grin crept onto Tara’s face and she reached down for the food, feeding the darts. "I’m going over to Willow’s tonight, so you’ll be on your own again. I hope you don’t mind, but you have each other for company. I kind of like to be with humans sometimes, instead of fish. And snails." The fish obliviously munched on the food flakes, while the snail continued to watch her speak.

"But this human is special," she continued. "I really like her. In fact, I think it’s safe to say I’m in love with her. Now, that may or may not work out, but I’m going to hope it does. So that’s the main reason I’m leaving you guys alone tonight." The snail that had been paying attention now pulled himself back into his shell for a nap. "I guess that sums up your level of interest in that subject," Tara grinned, and set the top back down on the tank.

~~

It was finally time to head over to Willow’s house. Tara had decided in the end to read a few chapters of a book and take a short nap before packing her overnight bag. She’d put on her nicest skirt and a comfortable light blue button down shirt, then put her Army surplus jacket in her backpack along with her overnight things, since it was still too warm to really need it. The walk over was quiet and fairly enjoyable, with people making their way to holiday get-togethers with their families and the majority of the shops already closed. The occasional last minute shopper rushed to get their final purchases in at the few stores that remained open.

At last, she walked up Willow’s street, happy to have been invited over, happy that Willow had known how lonely tonight would be and hoping she had sensed how much Tara wanted to share the other young woman’s company. Here it was, the Rosenberg’s house. The dark car was gone from the driveway, making the place look empty – but lights were on inside and a window was halfway open in the kitchen. Tara climbed the small set of stairs onto the porch and knocked quietly. After a few minutes, nothing happened, so she knocked again, this time more firmly. A quick scamper of feet could be heard before the door rushed open, a slightly red-faced Willow behind it.

And for some reason, she looked surprised and almost curious, and stood there just looking at Tara. A slow smile curved its way across her mouth, then she suddenly exclaimed, "Oh! Why don’t you come in, instead of me standing here like an idiot … uh … here, let me take your bag." She pulled the door all the way open and reached a hand out for the bag, which Tara shrugged off her shoulders and handed over.

"Thanks … a-are you okay?" the Wiccan asked. "You look a little … um-"

"Oh, no," Willow said quickly, cutting in. "I’m okay, I’m fine, I was just um, cooking, actually. I heard you knock the first time, but I was afraid that stuff would boil over or burn so I had to shut it off. I think it’s done now. It looks done, anyway." She smiled again, setting Tara’s bag down out of the way on the other side of the dining room and indicating the table. "So you can sit right down and I’ll be out in a minute." With that, the elfish redhead disappeared into the kitchen.

Chapter 7

Tara raised her eyebrows at Willow’s unusual behavior, but took a seat in the kitchen and waited patiently. The clank of dishes and cutlery emerged from the kitchen for a few moments, and then Willow came out carrying a couple of loaded plates. "I couldn’t carry the drinks at the same time, is milk okay, or we have juice and water, and I think we have some soda too. And before you say anything, I know it doesn’t really look like macaroni and cheese. I think there must have been some kind of accident in transit and all the noodles got broken." Finally pausing for breath, she looked apprehensively at Tara.

In response, the blonde girl grinned widely. "Willow, this is amazing. Don’t worry, I’m sure everything is going to be perfect, and I’m so proud of you for cooking! And yes, milk is fine."

The smaller girl beamed, then promptly dashed back into the kitchen, coming back out with two glasses of milk. She took a seat next to Tara and smiled excitedly. "I’ve never cooked for anyone before! I know it probably isn’t what you’re used to for Christmas Eve, but I didn’t think I’d be able to pull off anything else. And I’m actually kinda worried if I was able to pull off this, so…."

Tara gave Willow a reassuring look and gently touched her forearm. "I said not to worry, I’m sure you did everything perfectly. And for your information, this is the nicest Christmas Eve dinner I’ve had in quite a while."

Those are the eyes, I know those are the eyes, Tara’s eyes, from my dreams. Those dreams were about Tara, Willow thought, looking again into those clear blue eyes again. She’d noticed it the instant she’d opened the door, as soon as she saw Tara she knew it, she remembered her dreams. Tara’s eyes. And she could feel the heat of Tara’s hand slowly warming her forearm where it rested.

Her hand moved seemingly of its own volition to see if Tara’s skin was really as soft as it had been in the dreams, when Tara abruptly moved her hand away to pick up her fork. Willow quickly picked her own fork up as well.

Throughout the meal, Tara was pleased to catch Willow’s gaze often, though the hazel-green eyes were always quick to dart away. It was kind of cute, she thought, how Willow kept looking at her, then away, always returning to Tara in the end. And incredibly sweet that she had made dinner, which was really very good, despite the broken noodles. The texture was actually interesting. Not something she was sure she would enjoy every night, but the effort and thoughts behind the gesture were appreciated.

They did the dishes together afterwards, their hands shyly making contact as the dishes were passed from one girl to the other. Willow was certainly acting strangely tonight, varying from being extremely quiet to babbling on uncontrollably. And unlike her normal attitude, she seemed embarrassed when she rambled on, as though she wanted to stop talking but couldn’t control herself. Finishing the dishes, they moved to the living room onto a comfortably large sofa, sitting close together but without touching.

Tara broke the silence. "So, um, what’s going on with you tonight? Not to say that I’m not, you know, having a good time. I am, so much; it’s really great. The dinner, and … everything. Wonderful." She scooted a little closer to Willow, who glanced happily up at Tara, then studied the carpet intently, her hair falling down to cover part of her pixie-ish face for a moment before she tucked it back behind her ears.

"I’m glad you are, I mean, cooking and everything … it was kinda a big adventure. I’m really glad you liked it." Her eyes darted again to Tara’s blue ones, held there for a while, then flicked away again.

"But you’re acting like ... different. Like something’s up," Tara concluded. "You aren’t looking at me like you usually do."

There’s a way that I look at her? Willow wondered. "Um, well you know when you have a dream, a-and there’s someone in the dream, and then you see them in real life, when you’re awake, and it’s like they’ll somehow know, and you can’t really deal?"

Unable to censor the thought, as it sped directly from its formation to her mouth, Tara blurted out, "You dreamed about me?" Then her brain caught up with her mouth and she sat back a little, giving Willow a little more space. "No, no, you don’t have to say anything … just, just forget I said that, okay? If you want to tell me, you can, but you don’t have to. And … yeah, I know what you mean, a-about the dream thing." Boy, do I ever….

Willow smiled and became visibly more relaxed, reclining with a sigh closer to Tara. "Okay, whew. I thought I was the only one that happened to for some reason. I mean … it can be pretty weird sometimes, when you have kind of unusual dreams and then you can’t look at people in the same way again." She tilted her head back and regarded Tara for a moment before breaking into a grin. "So you have a present for me, I remember you told me that. Not that I only invited you over for a present, because I just wanted to hang out with you and it’s vacation and my folks are away, and it’s your first Christmas away from your family too. So we can keep each other company and stuff."

She cringed a bit. "I actually got you something too … can I go get it? I hope you like it ‘cause I don’t really have that much money and I know how thoughtful you are so I’m not sure it’ll be good enough. And I’m definitely not sure that the dinner counts as a present because I did it wrong. Oops, babbling again. Sorry."

Willow stood and quickly excused herself to her room and came out with a brightly wrapped box, haphazardly bedecked in ribbons. Handing the gift to Tara, she sat down practically on top of her and pointed out things. "See, I got blue paper but they didn’t have the blue I wanted to get, so I had to go a little darker. Plus it’s shiny and the other side is silver, which I thought was so cool. A-and the ribbons weren’t very cooperative, so I had to use a lot of tape. I guess I’m better at the theory than the practice."

Tara accepted the box and tried not to giggle at Willow’s explanation of everything. "It’s a nice color," she agreed, and carefully turned the box over, slowly peeling the tape off to keep the ribbons and wrapping paper in one piece. Ever so cautiously, the paper was removed then neatly folded with the ribbons placed on top. "Sorry, it’s just so nice. I w-wanted to keep it." Tara then set the paper aside and opened the plain box and pushed aside the tissue paper to reveal a delicate white peasant top.

The squared off collar was richly embroidered in several shades of blue, and two vertical lines of light blue ran down the front and back. The sleeves were long and slightly flared, edged in the same light blue that ran down the front and back, and the bottom hem was finished the same way. "Oh my gosh, Willow! It’s beautiful! Thank you so much!" She held the shirt up in one hand and wrapped Willow into a hug with the other.

Willow returned the hug, wholeheartedly pleased that Tara liked the top. But now she was bombarded with a hundred different questions: how long should she hold the hug before she let go? Would Tara be able to tell she was wondering about it? Was her heart beating too loudly, and would Tara notice? What would happen next?

The first question, anyway, was answered by just letting go when Tara did. That was pretty simple. And little did Willow know that Tara was asking herself the same things. But she did know what to do next. After all, she had a gift for Willow, too.

Chapter 8

The taller girl replaced the shirt into the box, then turned that half-smile on. "So I guess it’s time for me to give you your gift now. But we … we need to go to your room. The, the windows face the right direction. It’s um, well, there’s a story first."

Willow seemed slightly confused, but nodded and led the way into her room. Both young women sat on the bed, facing Willow’s French doors, which Tara looked out, seeming to search for something as the sun dipped down behind the treetops. She finally took a deep breath and began her story.

"When I was a little girl, my mother and I were really close. Things were better then, when she was still … here. She used to show me all the different kinds of trees and plants, and told me all the old stories and myths about the area I grew up in. And she used to show me the constellations, and tell me the legends about them. And I listened to them, and I liked the stories, but I never really saw the pictures she talked about. I always saw different ones, so I made up stories about them and told her about my own star-pictures.

"By the time I turned seventeen, Momma was really sick. The doctors were telling us she didn’t have very long, but she was so strong she didn’t w-want to give in. For my birthday, she wanted to go outside to look at the stars with me like we used to. I didn’t think she should go because she was so f-frail by that time, but she insisted we had to. We bundled her up in warm clothes and blankets, and went out by the oldest tree in the yard. Then, we looked up to the sky, and she told me that today I would hear a new story.

"She pointed out a star to me before she started talking, and told me to watch the star as she spoke. ‘Tara,’ she said, ‘I’ve watched you grow over the years, and I couldn’t be more proud of the young woman you’ve become. For your birthday this year, I don’t have anything good enough to give you, because you are so special that nothing I could ever buy in a store could say how much I love you. I want to give you something that will last forever.’"

Willow watched Tara as she spoke, at times haltingly, emotions plain on her expressive face. Tara looked over at Willow, pausing for a moment in the narrative. She blinked, two tears slowly rolling down her smooth cheeks. "I’m okay," she said quietly, and Willow shared her bittersweet smile, reaching up to brush away one of the tears. "I n-need to show you the star now."

The sun had set completely, stars popping up one by one. "Where is it?" Willow whispered, putting her head close to Tara’s so she could see better which one her friend would be pointing out.

Tara pointed to a tiny star, not nearly the brightest in the western sky, but it held a light blue color when compared closely to the sparkling white ones in the sky. "She told me that it’s mine. That little one there that’s almost blue? She said it’s for me, not because it’s really big or really bright, ‘cause it isn’t the biggest or brightest one out there, but that it’s special. It’s blue like she said my eyes are, and it’s a calm star, it reminded her of a cool forest stream. That one little star. Just for me. And it’ll always be there. She said after she’s g-gone, even when it’s really hard, I can look up and I’ll always know that she loves me just the way I am, that I’m stronger than I look and brighter than anyone would think."

Willow nodded in awe, looking at the star, surprised when it began to swim and blur a little. Blinking back tears, she looked over to Tara. "That must have been the best present ever. Your mom … I would have loved to meet her."

"She would have loved you, too, Willow, I know it." Tara wiped at her eyes to clear them. "But I still have your present, if you’re ready. Look back at the star." Both girls turned their attention to the sky once more, leaning together on Willow’s bed. "Now look a little bit to the left of it. See the brighter one that’s kinda red?" Feeling Willow nod, Tara smiled. "That one’s yours." She felt Willow start to turn towards her, but Tara said gently, "No, Willow, look at the star, okay? I have to tell you why it’s yours.

"It’s yours because it’s small, like you are, but bright and fiery. It would guide you around the whole world if you followed it, and make you even more wise than you already are. It makes me think of how strong you are too, because you live here, on a Hellmouth, but you fight bravely for your friends, a-and the world. You protect us all just as much as Buffy and Faith do, you know that?" Tara smiled and whispered into Willow’s ear, "And it’s right next to my star, so like I promised you, you’ll always have me, no matter what."

"Can I look at you now?" Willow breathed back.

Tara nodded. "Yes, i-if you want to. It’s a really good star, so I’ll understand if you want to-"

Willow interrupted by impulsively catching Tara’s hand in her own. "I don’t know what to say, so I’m probably gonna say a lot of stuff all at once. First – um, that’s probably the nicest gift I’ve ever gotten, by a long shot. I mean, no one gives people stars." A bright grin lit up her face as she said that, showing Tara how absolutely happy she was to have her very own star. "And you put so much into it, way more than any fancy trinket in a store. How long did you have it planned?"

"Um, just over a w-week, I think," the golden-haired girl answered. "I wanted something perfect for you, because…" she searched for the right words, finally deciding to go with, "because you’re Willow. Something to show you just how unique and wonderful you are." She was a bit startled to hear herself saying these things, but she knew she meant each word.

"It is perfect," Willow agreed. "Know what’s the best part?" She leaned close to whisper, "It’s right next to yours. I think that’s the best place to be." She gently squeezed the taller girl’s hand, then laced her fingers with Tara’s, finding the softness of Tara’s fingers wonderful, especially when she could only compare them to Oz’s rough and callused guitar player’s hands. This was much nicer. Completely new, but not as scary as when she’d thought about it. Being with Tara was totally comfortable and this … this just seemed right and natural.

This was turning out to be Tara’s best Christmas Eve ever. She and Willow sat side by side and hand in hand. How could this possibly be better? She looked up to see their stars sparkling together in the sky, and her expression turned curious. "Willow, it that … is that what I think it is?" Tiny white flakes drifted leisurely down from the sky.

"Oh my gosh. Is it snowing?" Willow squeaked, giving Tara’s hand a quick squeeze before letting go to open the doors. She stepped out into the back yard, holding her hands up as the flakes got larger and more numerous. "It’s SNOW! Tara, it’s really snowing!"

Tara quickly joined her outside, the two laughing and dancing together in the falling snow. Their breath came in visible clouds of white, and snow slowly began to accumulate in the yard. Snowflakes landed in their hair, at first melting but then beginning to stick as the flurry gained strength.

Tara carefully brushed snow out of Willow’s hair, and Willow wrapped her arms around Tara’s waist. Tara in turn held Willow, and they pulled together, Tara leaning slightly down as their lips met in a sweet and gentle kiss. High above them, a pair of small stars twinkled in the falling snow.