Dirty Tube Socks : Lara and Tara would make quite an interesting couple to say the least. Lol. Thanks for reading.
TITLE: How I Met My Lover
RATING: R ... May become NC-17 later
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters, well, maybe one or two, but as for the rest of them, they are property of ME
SUMMARY: What if nothing is what it seems and everything is a game inside of a game
FEEDBACK: I would be grateful for any and all comments.
Tara, Buffy, and Anya all turn their heads to see the mystery women Willow slept with. Upon seeing the girl all three sets of jaws dropped. That said girl grabbed a chair and placed it next to Xander before sitting down.
"Faith Lehan. Ted Lehan's daughter. Willow's ex," said Spike pointing to Faith.
"Yeah, how do you think we get all our gigs,' chuckled Xander. "I mean, yeah, we're good. But it's not like we're the best band in Sunnydale."
"Oh please, it was more like a one night stand," said Faith with a role of her eyes.
"Thank you," shouted Willow tossing her hands up into the air.
After that, the whole group started talking and laughing as if they were all old friends.
"You okay?" Whispered Willow into Tara's ear.
"Yeah I'm having a lot of fun." Tara replied back, a smile gracing her lips.
"Good," said the redhead before asking Tara her next question. "I'm gonna step outside for some air. Do you wanna come with?"
"Sure," Tara said, her smile growing wider.
Outside the doors, Willow and Tara sat on the top steps of the stairs leading to the restaurant. Looking over at Tara, Willow realized she was shaking from the cold.
"Hey, you're shivering," Willow stated as she slide her leather jacket off, placing the warmed tarnished rawhide around Tara's shoulders. "Here, that's better."
"Thanks," said Tara as she graciously accepted the jacket. "It got cold out."
"Yep, no problem." Willow said, displaying an air of cool confidence. "So, umm, how you doing?"
"I'm alright. Your friends are really nice," said the blonde as she hugged the jacket tighter to her body. "They're… they're nothing like what Cordelia said."
Instantly a frown appeared on Willow's face and her eyebrows knitted together. "Cordelia's a bitch," she spat out.
"I'm sorry, Willow. I didn't mean to make you mad," said Tara, instantly dropping her head to let her long hair cover her face.
"It's alright. It's not your fault," soothed Willow as she cupped Tara's chin and rubbed her cheek with her thumb.
A few minutes past as the two sat on the steps in the same position before Willow finally broke the silence.
"Hey, Tara?" Willow asked suddenly, removing her hand from the blondes face and dropping it to her lap where she nervously fidgeted with the frayed fabric of her ripped jeans.
"Yea?" Tara replied, her voice merely above a whisper.
"I was wondering if maybe… um if you would like… I don't know, maybe you would want to go on a date with me?" She gave a shy half grin for emphasis as she looked over at Tara, her hand still tugging at the unraveled strands of her tarnished pants.
"Wow. Do I have the pathetic 'please go on a date with me' line down pat, or what?"
"I'd love to go on a date with you," Tara beamed as she giddily bit her bottom lip.
"Oh! Really!" Willow said, feigning shock as she jumped up off of the steps. "Great, how about tomorrow? Say, around seven? I'll pick you up at your house?" Willow asked as she rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet.
"Okay, sounds great," Tara grinned back as she too stood up.
For a while they both just stood there, smiling at each other before Tara broke the silence.
"Uhmm, I think we should head back inside," Tara said pointing to the door. "Don't want them to think we ditched them on the bill, or something."
"Oh yeah," Willow said, smiling stupidly. "Oh, wait. I don't know where you live."
"Right, yeah, that might help," Tara playfully slapped her head. "I live at 137 Walker Avenue."
"Ok, thanks." Willow said as she typed the information into her phone then opened the restaurant door for the blonde. "Here you go; I'll be in in a moment. I just have to make a quick call."
"All right, see you inside," said the blonde as she handed back the barrowed jacket before disappearing inside the diner.
"What a loser," mumbled Willow as she fished out her pack of smokes from her front pocket and quickly lit one. Turning the screen of her cell phone on, she scrolled down to Create Messages, and texted her friends a short message.
Shes 2 E Z
Let da games bgin
"She's going out with Willow? The 'Willow'? The Willow whose boinked pretty much every girl in SunnyDale High," said Anya, lying on Buffy's bed next to aforementioned blonde. "Twice!" she added as an afterthought.
"Anya shut up!" hissed Buffy. "If she finds that out, Tara will never go out with Willow and then we are royally screwed."
"I don't know about this Buffy,' complained Anya. "I'm starting to have second thoughts."
"Anya you never have thought. So just keep yourself together so we can do this," Buffy growled as she looked menacingly at the other cheerleader.
"But Buffy," she was cut off by a hand covering her mouth.
"Shh, she's coming," Buffy said as she flipped over onto her stomach and reached for a bottle of nail polish sitting on her night stand. "What color should I paint my toes?" she said in a louder voice that way Tara could hear the conversation from the hallway.
"Who gives a fuck. Nobody wants to see your gross crow's feet," muttered Anya as she hugged Mr. Gordo to her torso.
"Anya my feet are not gross!" Buffy protested.
"You keep telling yourself that," shot back Anya as she ducked a pillow that was aimed for her head.
"Hey Buffy, do you mind if I use your phone?" asked Tara as she held up the cordless silver phone.
"ooohhh, are you calling Willow?" teased Buffy, wiggling her neatly waxed eyebrows.
"No, I'm gonna call my dad and tell him I'm sleeping here tonight." smirked the blonde.
"Yea, yea, whatever," Buffy waved her off so she could get back to her nail polish.
Once Tara left the room to make her phone call, Anya turned back to Buffy to continue their argument. "You know, sooner or later, she's gonna find out that 'Good "Will" Hunting' is not just a playful nickname given to Rosenberg. She's not dumb. She's gonna figure out that Rosenberg has a thing for fucking the new girls at school. And she SURE AS HELL isn't going to like it when she finds out we're setting her up!"
"That's why she's not going to find out," smiled Buffy as she slid of her bed to go check the hallway.
"And how can you be so sure?" questioned Anya.
"Cause unlike the rest of the cheerleaders, we aren't complete retards. We're not going to fuck this up." Buffy responded snidely, her cold, callous look daring the other girl to continue the conversation.