Title: In Limbo

Pairing: Tara/Kennedy - I told you I could do it. ;)

Summary: Everyone's entitled to rebound sex. Even Tara.

Rating: Oh... hmm... R? Disclaimer: Not mine, yo. Notes: Season six, between Smashed and Doublemeat Palace, Tara's dealing with the break up. Title is taken from the song by "Radiohead"

Sunnydale needed a bookstore like this one. Sure, she could order just about anything over the internet, but there was something organic about having to browse through volumes, scanning book jackets and skimming the pages. Of course, there was also something to be said about the fact that, of all places in the surrounding area, she'd bee-lined for a bookstore. Granted, it was a gay bookstore, full of books of gay. Still, it didn't scream Queen of Social Interaction.

When they'd asked her to come with them to Los Angeles, she knew they were just being nice, that it was a last minute thing UC Sunnydale Sisters of Gaia had voted on because they felt bad for her. Not that she didn't appreciate it. Sunnydale was the last place she really wanted to be over the winter break, though she did feel bad leaving Dawnie without anyone to talk to. Especially after everything that happened. But this trip was dedicated to not thinking about that. Or her. The "W" word was outlawed.


We'd reached that forever long too short moment right before a first kiss. You know, after the period where you've been finding excuses to sit, then eventually, lean, closer than would be natural for any given situation other than kissing, but you haven't quite admitted to yourself that you've spent all this time building up the courage to lean in and do it. It's that point were all the silly excuses for touching each other and the giddy giggling slows to a halt and you're just hanging there, waiting. She was much more aggressive than I, brushing her lips over mine before applying more pressure, then the inevitable tongue. I met her with equal enthusiasm, my mouth quickly informing me that, good goddess, she had a tongue ring, and another, lower part of me requesting that we hurry up and put the accessory to good use.


In retrospect, leafing through lesbian erotica paperbacks three weeks after you've ended a long term relationship was not, in fact, the best way to forget about one's ex-girlfriend. Not that it mattered. To Tara, everything was connected, anyway. All roads somehow led straight back to Willow. It was inevitable, really. She'd let herself be defined by their relationship. She was always "the girlfriend," the outsider. Except with Dawn. They'd grown very attached over the summer. The younger girl had turned to her to fill the role of mother/sister and she'd taken it, knowing all too well what she was going through. Goddess, she hoped Dawn didn't think she was abandoning her because of all this.


Hands. One of hers was in my hair, the other unbuttoning my shirt. Mine were both up under hers, buttons be damned. I wanted, needed her to touch me, feel me. There, she'd defeated the blouse, tossing it aside. She grinned the most fabulous cocky grin that would normally make me roll my eyes and add me to the category of "disinterested" but on her it was cute. Or maybe it was just really hot.


She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, realizing she'd let her mind drift right back to where it wasn't suppose to be. The book in her hands tried to find its place back on the shelf, but it slipped out of her grasp and tumbled to the floor. Before she could bend down to pick it up, someone else had beat her to it. A shorter, dark-haired girl straightened up in front of her.

"Lookin' for this?" She smiled, her deep brown eyes not so casually roaming over Tara's body.

Being blatantly checked out by a total stranger made her slightly uneasy. "Y-yeah. Thanks." She quickly placed the book in the empty slot on the shelf.


My clothes were in a pile on the floor, hers were somewhere similar. Currently, her lips were tracing a path along my neck while her hand was… somewhere else. Somewhere very, very else. I suppose to most people who know me, this seemed unlike anything I would do. But I'm human, just like anyone else. Or Anya. Or Spike. Anyway, point is, I'm a witch, not a nun, who happens to like sex, thank you very much. Tara Maclay's allowed her rebound sex, just like anyone else.


"Not gonna buy it? It's a good one."

She shook her head. "N-no, I… already have it. Well, did." It was one of the many things Willow still had. "Someone borrowed it."

The other girl nodded, understanding. "Long-term someone? Don't wanna pain yourself just to get back some silly book."

"S-sounds about right." Tara fidgeted, fingers playing with the pocket of her long sweater.

"You here by yourself?"

"No. Well, y-yes. By myself in here. B-but not by myself h-here in this city." Her gaze fell on the stack of books in the other woman's hands. "C-catching up on some reading?"

"Long flight. Quick reader. Just wanted to be prepared."


I had one hand was firmly gripping the headboard, the other tightly tangled in her mass of chestnut hair as she was properly putting a particular piercing to work. That damn Nelly Furtado song had played on the hotel clock radio at least three times since we'd been here. Not that I was really focusing on the music. This girl was extremely adept at multitasking and I was about to reap the benefits for the second time in a row.


Tara nodded. She tried to think of more to say, but her brain wasn't computing much past the very hot girl standing in front of her. She was probably a good two or three years younger, hair neatly styled, clothes from the higher quality end of the fashion spectrum. This girl came from money, but didn't seem to flaunt it. Or, she hadn't flaunted it in the minute and forty-nine seconds they'd known each other.

A polyphonic version of the latest Jimmy Eat World single announced itself from inside the girl's denim jacket. "Sorry. 'Scuse me a sec." She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, turning away from Tara. "Nora? Hey, what's up? Yeah, I'm still… uh huh… right." Rolling her eyes, she leaned against the shelves. "Do we have to? I don't see what looking at art for three days in a row has to do with slay-" Her eyes quickly shifted to Tara, who was desperately trying to look interested in the semi-erotic male/male postcard display.


My eyes were trying to focus on the room around me. I must've dozed off. No shocker. Not after that. What time was it? The girls were probably worried. Who was I kidding? They probably didn't even notice I was gone. I nudged the sleeping mass of soft slender femininity next to me. As much as I loved cuddly pillow talk, I wasn't really planning on sticking around. I thanked her for everything, considering giving her my number, at least out of courtesy, but she never asked for it and didn't offer hers, either. This had been what it was. Sex. Amazingly hot, hours and hours of sex, but just sex, nonetheless.


Despite her efforts not to listen in, the blonde really couldn't help it. Had she said "slay?" Maybe Sunnydale had just permanently skewed her hearing.

"I mean, I don't see what it has to do with anything." A sigh. "Okay, okay. I know. I gotta go. I'll be back at the hotel later. IYes/I, Nora. Okay. Bye."

Tara was slightly disappointed. From the sound of the phone call, this girl was already in a relationship. "Girlfriend?"

"Huh?" She followed Tara's eye line to the phone in her hand. "Oh. No. Not at all. That was my… mentor. We're here on a learning thing." The phone got stuffed back in her pocket, then her thumb hooked itself in a belt loop. "Where were we?"