aurey09

Title: Not Alone.
Word Count: 581
Characters: Willow/Tara.
Timeline: Post-New Moon Rising.
Prompt: 'Pancakes' from

sl_podcast.
A/N: Written for

bakatulip's Birthday. (It's late I know *blushes*)
Disclaimer: I'm not Joss Whedon, I'm not even 'The Joss' of BBtL.
Warning: Unbeta-ed.

The morning light glowed red though Tara's closed eyelids. She'd over slept after last night... a smile spread across her lips. Her fingers brushed across wrinkled sheets, as she reached towards her sleeping lover. Willow was gone, her warmth had been replaced by that of the sun's.

Tara sat up, the bliss of sleep chased away by her insecurities. She wound the comforter tighter around her naked body. Why wasn't Willow there? Tara looked around her dorm room, none of Willow's scattered clothes remained.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. No it is, the cruel voice inside came alive, it sounded like her father, you're a disgusting demon, how could she ever love you? How could anybody?

Willow must have realised her mistake. She'd made the wrong choice. She loved Oz. Tara knew she must have imagined, in those dark hours of the night, the way Willow clung to her. She'd read too much into soft caresses and deep, hot kisses. Tara's eyes stung with tears she held back. It been her alone that felt that way.

Tara heard someone fumble with keys, as they tried to get in the dormroom. The lock clicked and the door creaked open. Willow nudged the door the rest of the way open with her slim hips, Tara knew how they felt cradled in her arms.

Willow walked into the room, a look of concentration on her face as she tried to balance two polystyrene contains in her arm. Her foot kicked out backwards to shut the door. A sweet, buttery smell filed the room. Pancakes. It didn't seem likely that if Willow was going to break her heart she'd bring her breakfest in bed.

Tara had told Willow about her love of Sunday morning pancakes, they were her mom's speciality. Sunday mornings it was just her and Tara, her father worked early shifts at work and Donny would go to football practise. They'd leave in the pick-up truck, as soon as they were out of her sight her mom would smile in her sweet and sly way – funny shapes or rounds?

Willow leant forward kissing away the remnants of Tara's unhappy pout. She pulled back to soon, leaving Tara wanting more. Willow grinned at Tara, and her aura flared a pure blinding light, and Tara knew she was loved.

Willow opened the contains, and slid one into Tara's lap. Tara looked sceptically at the stack of pancakes. She was supposed to eat all of those? Willow ran her handsup Tara's thigh, and
explained she wanted Tara to keep up her strength. If Tara hadn't know any better, she would have thought it was her first time with another woman, and not Willow's.

Tara noticed that the syrup drizzled onto the pancakes was in the vague shape of a heart - that just as easily been in the shape of a deformed butterfly, but she knew different. She could picture the secret smile that Willow flashed, as she poured the syrup onto the pancakes and contiuned to shuffle along the canteen line.

They feed each other breakfast, talking, giggling touching. Willow spilt syrup on Tara's stomach, and ignored the napkins in favour of her tongue, not once dropping the act that it was an accident.

Tara yawned, and curled back up onto the mattress. Willow giggled, and guessed she wore Tara out last night. Willow snuggled against her back, and pressed kisses to her spine. They drifted off to sleep. Tara wasn't alone anymore.