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At a Crossroads - Buffy: The Vampire Slayer - Willow/Tara, Willow/Oz - Words: 1,059
Written for a Whedonland challenge. Co-written with racheltng
Summary: Tara and Oz try to sort themselves (and their feelings) out. An episode tag to New Moon Rising.
Content Notes: None. PG
Oz
The night had gone better than Oz had expected, better than he could have hoped for. Willow hadn't yelled at him for leaving or even given him those sad, reproachful eyes that made his heart twist. Instead, Willow had sat and listened while he told her about traveling and about Tibet and the monks.
And, sure, some parts had been a little uncomfortable. The knowledge that he'd hurt Willow, even though he'd left in order to keep from hurting her, sat painfully in his chest. The memory of Veruca still stung as well, knowing that Willow was thinking about that when she saw him. Oz knew that Willow had forgiven him for the mess with Veruca, and maybe even forgiven him for disappearing, but he also knew that Willow tended to forgive too much and too easily. The memories, the ones of betrayal and pain on both of their parts, had been the hardest to shed during his meditation sessions. He hadn't let himself even in the state lines of California until he was sure that he could keep his cool and stay in human form, even if Willow had blamed and rejected him.
No, this was the best way he could have imagined this turning out. Willow had spent the whole night talking to him, smiling and laughing at some of his tales. But something was off, something he couldn't name or really figure out how he knew. He didn't think it was one of his 'wolfie senses'; even though they were still strong in his human form, he was usually able to tell when it was something he smelled or heard. He had noticed it before Willow's friend, the girl who had been at Giles' house, came by, but her brief presence had only intensified the feeling until he couldn't push it away anymore.
This was different, though; it wasn't something that his enhanced smell or hearing was trying to tell him. Through all the disasters that he'd lived through running with the Scoobie Gang and his time traveling the world by himself, he learned to trust his instincts and feelings. Even when he couldn't explain them, they were usually an indication that something was off, or there was something that was being concealed.
Willow, even though she'd been just as vibrant and vivid as he'd remembered, was behaving a little skittishly. He'd originally put that up to suddenly showing up out of the blue yonder. Everyone staring at him as he'd walked into the Scooby meeting was more than enough to paint a picture of how much he'd missed by being away, and Willow was obviously the most affected by his absence. But now, he was starting to wonder if it was something more.
"Ready, Oz?" Willow asked, picking up her bag and standing by the door.
"Always," Oz replied. He tipped his head to the side and watched Willow as they walked to breakfast. Some thing was definitely off here, in her smile and in the way that she tucked her own hand away when he made a motion to reach for hers. Oz walked by her side and listened to Willow talk, his mind fast at work.
Tara
Tara stumbled across the campus, tears welling up in her eyes and threatening to spill over. I’m not gonna cry in public, I’m not gonna cry in public, she chanted silently as she dodged students on their way to class. Finally, she reached her room. The moment the door was closed safely behind her, she felt the warm liquid flow down her cheeks.
Even with no one to see her, she felt ashamed of her unruly emotions. What did she have to cry about? It’s not like she and Willow were anything, really. She sank onto her bed, sniffling and wiping the last of the tears off her face. She wasn’t anything to anyone, and she never would be. It had been silly to get her hopes up.
The last few weeks had been like a dream. With each passing day, the growing closeness between her and Willow had seemed more and more like it was real, not just a fantasy in her head. Any sign that her feelings were shared created a gnawing mix of hope and fear in the pit of her stomach. When Willow had invited her to the Scooby meeting, Tara was thrilled to be integrated into the rest of Willow’s life. Yesterday, walking hand-in-hand, it seemed like the life she always wanted was finally within her grasp.
The moment Oz had walked in, Tara had known the dream was over. She could feel the connection between him and Willow, like an invisible string tying them together. Tara faded into the background. She left when she could no longer bear seeing her world torn apart. No one followed her.
Last night had been spent sleeplessly tossing and turning, her emotions oscillating wildly between hope and despair. She knew she meant something to Willow, but what, exactly? A friend, a confident, more? If she could just talk to Willow, just be in her presence, surely everything would become clear. She watched the sun rise from her bed, waiting as long as she could bear before heading out across the campus.
She stood outside Willow’s room with bated breath. The door seemed to swing open in slow motion, and there he was. Her love’s true love. He stood in Willow’s room, utterly relaxed, belonging in the space in a way that Tara would never belong, could never have belonged. Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. She mumbled something and began her mad dash back to her room, leaving her replacement to his bewilderment.
Now, she lay on her bed, her cheeks sticky with pointless tears. She had always known it would end like this. It was a comfort to know that Willow was happy. Tara had been a time-filler, a useful distraction until Oz had returned. At least she had been something to Willow. Maybe she still could be. She could content herself to just be in Willow’s life.
She would wait. Willow would come back to her, even if it was not in the way that Tara wanted. If she could only be near her, life would be bearable.
Written for a Whedonland challenge. Co-written with racheltng
Summary: Tara and Oz try to sort themselves (and their feelings) out. An episode tag to New Moon Rising.
Content Notes: None. PG
Oz
The night had gone better than Oz had expected, better than he could have hoped for. Willow hadn't yelled at him for leaving or even given him those sad, reproachful eyes that made his heart twist. Instead, Willow had sat and listened while he told her about traveling and about Tibet and the monks.
And, sure, some parts had been a little uncomfortable. The knowledge that he'd hurt Willow, even though he'd left in order to keep from hurting her, sat painfully in his chest. The memory of Veruca still stung as well, knowing that Willow was thinking about that when she saw him. Oz knew that Willow had forgiven him for the mess with Veruca, and maybe even forgiven him for disappearing, but he also knew that Willow tended to forgive too much and too easily. The memories, the ones of betrayal and pain on both of their parts, had been the hardest to shed during his meditation sessions. He hadn't let himself even in the state lines of California until he was sure that he could keep his cool and stay in human form, even if Willow had blamed and rejected him.
No, this was the best way he could have imagined this turning out. Willow had spent the whole night talking to him, smiling and laughing at some of his tales. But something was off, something he couldn't name or really figure out how he knew. He didn't think it was one of his 'wolfie senses'; even though they were still strong in his human form, he was usually able to tell when it was something he smelled or heard. He had noticed it before Willow's friend, the girl who had been at Giles' house, came by, but her brief presence had only intensified the feeling until he couldn't push it away anymore.
This was different, though; it wasn't something that his enhanced smell or hearing was trying to tell him. Through all the disasters that he'd lived through running with the Scoobie Gang and his time traveling the world by himself, he learned to trust his instincts and feelings. Even when he couldn't explain them, they were usually an indication that something was off, or there was something that was being concealed.
Willow, even though she'd been just as vibrant and vivid as he'd remembered, was behaving a little skittishly. He'd originally put that up to suddenly showing up out of the blue yonder. Everyone staring at him as he'd walked into the Scooby meeting was more than enough to paint a picture of how much he'd missed by being away, and Willow was obviously the most affected by his absence. But now, he was starting to wonder if it was something more.
"Ready, Oz?" Willow asked, picking up her bag and standing by the door.
"Always," Oz replied. He tipped his head to the side and watched Willow as they walked to breakfast. Some thing was definitely off here, in her smile and in the way that she tucked her own hand away when he made a motion to reach for hers. Oz walked by her side and listened to Willow talk, his mind fast at work.
Tara
Tara stumbled across the campus, tears welling up in her eyes and threatening to spill over. I’m not gonna cry in public, I’m not gonna cry in public, she chanted silently as she dodged students on their way to class. Finally, she reached her room. The moment the door was closed safely behind her, she felt the warm liquid flow down her cheeks.
Even with no one to see her, she felt ashamed of her unruly emotions. What did she have to cry about? It’s not like she and Willow were anything, really. She sank onto her bed, sniffling and wiping the last of the tears off her face. She wasn’t anything to anyone, and she never would be. It had been silly to get her hopes up.
The last few weeks had been like a dream. With each passing day, the growing closeness between her and Willow had seemed more and more like it was real, not just a fantasy in her head. Any sign that her feelings were shared created a gnawing mix of hope and fear in the pit of her stomach. When Willow had invited her to the Scooby meeting, Tara was thrilled to be integrated into the rest of Willow’s life. Yesterday, walking hand-in-hand, it seemed like the life she always wanted was finally within her grasp.
The moment Oz had walked in, Tara had known the dream was over. She could feel the connection between him and Willow, like an invisible string tying them together. Tara faded into the background. She left when she could no longer bear seeing her world torn apart. No one followed her.
Last night had been spent sleeplessly tossing and turning, her emotions oscillating wildly between hope and despair. She knew she meant something to Willow, but what, exactly? A friend, a confident, more? If she could just talk to Willow, just be in her presence, surely everything would become clear. She watched the sun rise from her bed, waiting as long as she could bear before heading out across the campus.
She stood outside Willow’s room with bated breath. The door seemed to swing open in slow motion, and there he was. Her love’s true love. He stood in Willow’s room, utterly relaxed, belonging in the space in a way that Tara would never belong, could never have belonged. Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. She mumbled something and began her mad dash back to her room, leaving her replacement to his bewilderment.
Now, she lay on her bed, her cheeks sticky with pointless tears. She had always known it would end like this. It was a comfort to know that Willow was happy. Tara had been a time-filler, a useful distraction until Oz had returned. At least she had been something to Willow. Maybe she still could be. She could content herself to just be in Willow’s life.
She would wait. Willow would come back to her, even if it was not in the way that Tara wanted. If she could only be near her, life would be bearable.
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