1.being without clothing or covering; nude
2. defenseless; unprotected; exposed
3. plain; simple; unadorned
Willow breathed heavily against her lover's cheek, unable to move her sated body as of yet. Liquid limbs tangled together on sweat soaked sheets, and their slick chests moved against each other with each exhalation. She kissed the closet bit of skin she could reach, tasting the salt on her dry lips afterward. They lay like that for a long time, heavy hearts beating against their ribs; until at last, Tara regained function of her arms. She untangled them from Willow's and instead wrapped the appendages around the red-head's back, lovingly stroking every baby-soft inch of skin she could reach. Above her, Willow groaned in Tara's ear, a sound that sent delicious shivers straight to the blonde's core. Willow's left hand, and the arm attached, dragged down the sheets until she could cup the curve of Tara's waist in her hand.
"Oh, Willow," Tara whimpered, arching into the touch. The usually articulate blonde was reduced to a pile of quivering and moaning flesh and this did wondrous things for her lover's ego.
It was in these post coital moments that Willow felt the most need to express her feelings in words, a task that at most times left her a stuttering babbling mess. The remaining tingle of multiple orgasms gave her tired and often computer-like mind a rest, shocking her out of logic and into emotional depths. Shifting over Tara, their over sensitized bodies rubbing together and causing a fresh wave of moans as she did so, she managed to arrange herself over the blonde so that their foreheads touched. Green eyes gazed lovingly into heavy-lidded blue, dark as deep water; Willow could asphyxiate as if she were really drowning if she looked long enough. There was a moment of near silence, only their breathing breaking it, where they just looked at each other. The intensity of Willow's gaze caused Tara's cheeks to flush. With trembling fingers, the red-head traced the contours of her lover's face. She opened her mouth to speak, stilling her fingers over kiss bruised lips, but then she closed her mouth again.
She looks like a goddess. Willow contemplated a moment longer. She is a goddess. Her fingers traveled from Tara's face down the column of her throat before tickling down over the blonde's chest and abdomen to her lower belly. Tara was softest here; there was roundness to her belly that Willow found intoxicatingly erotic. The feeling was almost primal, or maybe it was an instinct that told her that Tara's body was just made for sex. Willow opened her mouth again, and still nothing came out, so she trailed her hand back up to Tara's face.
"What?" Tara whispered against soft fingertips, taking the digits into her mouth teasingly. Willow's breath caught for a moment as Tara's moist tongue wrapped around her fingers.
"I…" Willow began, but then halted. Tara knew better than to rush her lover at these times. While under normal circumstances Willow would babble, it was at moments such as this that she would speak almost painfully slowly, as if arranging the words into the perfect order. Tara's patients were usually rewarded with the most beautiful utterances from Willow. "I wish that…I was able…I wish you could…" she stopped again, her brow furrowing. The fingers on Tara's lips slipped down to her chin and then around to cup her face. "I wish I could give you babies."
While it was not the most eloquent thing Willow had ever revealed in their bed, it still brought tears to Tara's eyes and a hitch to her breath. She closed her eyes quickly and blinked away the tears. Willow gazed down, her brow still furrowed, this time in concern. Tara reached up to take Willow's face between her hands. She stroked the red-head's cheeks gently, a few tears trailing down her own flushed face. She pulled Willow down until their lips were barely ghosting against each other. "I love you so," Tara whispered against her lover's mouth before sealing the words between them in a searing kiss. When they broke, gasping like fish on land, she added, "and I wish it too."
Bright green eyes grew determined. "Do you mean it Tara? Would you really want my babies?" the red-head asked in an urgent whisper.
Tara, seeing Willow's face harden in resolve, realized that Willow wasn't just expressing feelings, she was very serious, scary serious. "Of course I would Honey, that's not even a question. I love you. I love you so much, and I want every part of you forever. But…it's just not possible."
Willow shook her head franticly. "Anything's possible. I'll do whatever I have to. Anything."
More tears sprung to Tara's eyes. It felt as though love was bursting out of her. Willow closed the space between them, touching her lips to the corners of the blonde's eyes in whisper soft motions, wiping away the tears that escaped.
"Does that…is that okay?" Willow murmured into Tara's mouth. Tara met her lover's kiss firmly for a moment. The satiation from earlier was starting to abate and the sensations from Willow's kiss and their bodies meshed together was sending wonderful fresh stirrings to her center.
When they broke for air Tara responded breathlessly. "It's more than okay." Her lips quirked. "And you know, the uh…most common way to make babies might not work for us, but it's still a good idea to try our hardest."
Willow grinned too. "That is a great idea, Baby."
It was several hours later before exhaustion won out over passion. Tara, resting comfortably half on and half off of her lover went right off to sleep. Willow, though, found herself lingering in wakefulness, her mind already overloading itself with ideas for what she was planning. She had been very serious about her earlier discussion with Tara. It wasn't a spur of the moment question either; she had been contemplating whether or not she should mention it for months now, ever since Tara had barely escaped death after being shot by Warren. Willow shivered at the remembrance, drawing the blonde closer to her reflexively.
It had been the most awful moment of her young life. As she had held her bleeding lover, she had come to the jarring realization that she didn't know a spell to fix this. There was no spell. Magic, something she had relied on heavily to help protect her family, had failed her and she was going to lose everything.
She hadn't though. Tara was a fighter, definitely a tough cookie. It had been close but the blonde had pulled out of near death with a knotted scar to prove it. Willow's hand shifted up over Tara's back and she ran her finger tips over the scar. The entrance wound was clean and neat, but Tara's chest had looked like an explosion for awhile after the incident. Now it looked like diagrams of nerve cells that Willow had studied in Biology.
The recovery had by no means been easy. They had dealt with Tara's injury and the aftermath alongside with Willow's withdrawal symptoms. There had been screaming matches and tears and sleepless nights where the red-head was overcome with shaking. It was long and harrowing, but they made it to the end of the days that felt impossible to make it through. Even now, six months out, it was hard some days, but it no longer felt like a helpless endeavor. Willow had long sense stopped tearing up when she saw the scar on her lover.
"I'm going to do it," Willow stated out loud. Tara shifted closer in her sleep, warm damp breath puffed against her neck. The red-head smiled down at the quiescent woman, raising a hand to smooth away the sweaty locks from her face so she could see the blonde better.
I'm going to do it. I have to.
Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body.
A/N: Soooo…this is quite a departure from anything I've ever done ever, in just about every way possible. Tell me what you think I guess.