Latter Days by Willownut

Rating: PG-13
Uber-Setting: 1980's
Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah. Many characters are Joss Whedon's. Yada, yada, yada. No harm intended with the use of these revered characters. Peas and carrots, peas and carrots. Italics are thoughts. For those who could excommunicate me or send me unwanted literature, I wish you no ill will. My thanks to LVK for the use of her song lyrics, you have my deep respect, and I would have asked first if I knew where you were.
Distribution: The Mystic Muse: http://mysticmuse.net
Through the Looking-glass
Feedback: Yes please.
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes: Think 1984 (not the book, the Era).
Webhost's Note: Special thanks goes to Chris Cook of Through the Looking Glass, MKF and Artemis for the graphics, wallpapers and source coding. Thanks, Chris!
Pairing: Willow/Tara

Summary: Willow and Tara meet in an unusual place, no monsters, or Hellmouth, but they do have demons of their own.

The building seemed enormous; actually, at this moment, just the door in front of her appeared too big. She thought to herself: It's like one of the Alice in Wonderland moments where things just feel distorted somehow – like you're looking in a mirror that makes things closer than they appear – only – not. This was an "in your face" large door. She was nervous; her hands were sweating. Come on girl. Get a grip. It's a regular size door.

Eighteen months was such a long time to be away from home, family, friends, and secure surroundings, like the mall and all the sugary goodness one could buy there. Eighteen months, no mochas, it was just unreal.

The excitement though outweighed her weak moment and drowned out the thoughts of the chocolatey sacrifices yet to come. All roads led to this place, a new beginning like so many others. This was a pilgrimage of the soul.

It felt like only yesterday she'd opened the envelope that had led her to this place.

Amy, her sorority friend, had been so supportive. Her sister was going through the same preparations readying for her own adventure. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, carefully unfolded the flap on the letter, and scanned over the words not really seeing anything until she reached one very small but overwhelming word.

Her fingers trembled as she read back from the beginning over the words to the next very important piece of information…November 8.

She was supposed to arrive on November 8th, then there would be two months of language study, and then she was going to fly off to Japan. It was such a little word.

Oh. My. Gosh! She started to panic. There was just so much to do. November was only about three weeks away. That's when she heard the screaming. She was screaming, Amy was screaming, and there they were all screaming. Ok wait. Breathe. I knew I might go somewhere far. I can do this. But, what if I can't? All of her insecurities were bubbling up. She felt her knees weaken and buckle. Next, she found herself on the floor. The moment blurred as the lack of oxygen started to take its toll.

I'm back she thought to herself as she tried to regulate her breathing…again. She'd been doing that quite a bit since she got that letter. She was here now, feeling the same sense of knee weakness, but this time falling was just not an option. That would attract attention of the bad kind. Putting on her best resolve face, she reached forward to grab hold of the door to enter. She was humbled at this grand place-of-learning. This was a stepping-stone, and important stop along the way.

Okay. Breathe – In. Out. There will be no more screaming in your head, Rosenberg.

She got to the counter after waiting in line for a time and collected her welcome kit:

Hey, look at that. She looked down at the small black and white nameplate in her hand. She recognized her name, but everything else, not so much. It's in Japanese. As she turned to leave the grand entry area, she heard singing:

It was the sweetest sound, a voice among the throng of murmuring voices. She caught just bits of the song, but it was enough to grab her attention.

It was only a few stanzas, pieces of the melody but it was as if someone had reached out and plucked a harp string in her heart. She could barely see through the crowd but there seemed to be great joy radiating from the girl.

Geepers, Look at her. She is so graceful. It looks like she's just floating. She took stock of her surroundings. No one else seemed to notice the blonde. I swear I can feel her. And what's that song? It seems…so…familiar. Okay. I am so not gonna stalk some stranger. She continued walking in the direction behind the other girl though. It's just a coincidence.

I wonder where she's going. Wouldn't that be weird if she was going to Japan too? She could be my companion. That would be cool. Right, like that would happen. "Pffft," the sound escaped her lips before she could stop it. She smirked and laughed at herself.

She continued walking, following the little map in her hand. She lost sight of the girl for a time, so she dismissed her earlier musings and continued toward her future dorm room.

"It's just two months for heaven's sake." She whispered to the walls. Like of all the people here she would be paired up with me and I'd pick her out of a crowd of two hundred people sight (well face) unseen.

She climbed up the stairs and headed down the hall, taking notice of the couches and bathroom areas in the middle of all the line of rooms. Laundry room was downstairs; some vending machines sat in the corner. After traveling down the wrong hallway, she finally located her dorm room at the end of the hall. Okay, make a note; don't turn left again when you come up the stairs, right and then straight. I've gotta remember that.

'Choose the right…' the children's church song filled her mind: Oh, the irony.

As she passed by the doors along the hallway, it was clear where others were headed.

There were signs on all the doors to welcome the new arrivals – Hermana Bryce. Hermana Sanders – red, green, and white stripes – colors of Mexico. Sorella Johnson, Sorella Campbell – more red, green and white stripes. Sorella, huh. Like Cruella? I'm thinking…not. Some of the words she didn't even want to try to pronounce. Schwester – that must be German. This is so cool. Oh, now that's just funny – look at that one: Schwester Sanchez and Schwester Wall. Maybe I'm warped, but I just think that's funny.

Oh, just red and white: Sister Jones and Sister Couch. They're going to Canada. C. eh. N. eh. D. eh. She laughed to herself as she remembered the old joke of how Canadians came up with the name for their country by pulling out the three letters from a hat.

Those headed to Japan were obvious – red round circle cutouts against a white background each with names on them. She read the names silently until she finally came to the end of the hall: Smith Shimai, Kitchen Shimai, and Rosenberg Shimai.

And "Willow" that's gonna sound like the Jetson's dog, Astro, or Scooby Doo or something. She chuckled at the thought sounding it out in her head: "Ri- roh" or would it be Reeroh? Rie rowt roh. A giggle escaped.

Gosh, stop it Rosenberg, as she tried out the sound of formality of her last name in her head. You're supposed to be all grown up, why can't you be a grown up? You're supposed to be all serious and spiritual here. They'll probably call me Sister Little Tree or Red or something – I should have at least looked that up.

She opened the door, and walked in taking a quick look around. There were four bunks in the room; it was smaller than she thought it was going to be. Two of the bunks were already claimed. There were two other girls in the room chit chatting – a tall brunette with wild but sculptured hair-sprayed hair and a frumpy blonde in flats and a skirt and plain blouse. She gave a little waive shy smile and a nod: "Hey."

"California" Yup, Sunnydale, SunnyD that's where I'm from, never been anywhere else," she cursed herself for babbling already. Shut up and smile.

The shorter girl held her hand out in greeting which Willow accepted. Kitchen stood behind and gracefully nodded her own hello; she smiled in sympathy or possibly amusement.

"Where are you going?" Oh, so many questions. "Frumpy" is a Chatty Cathy. Maybe Kitchen is a mute. Okay stop that! Happy thoughts, Will. Happy, loving Godly, thoughts.

"Kobe" she answered nodding back to question theirs. The internal babble was starting to distract her so she tried to focus a bit more.

Kitchen was going to Kobe too and Smith was headed for Sapporo. Sapporo was really cold and Willow counted her blessings that her snow would only be seasonal if she was stationed near Kobe.

She learned Smith Shimai was from California as well, Sacramento or Oakland or somewhere north of Sunnydale. She just couldn't seem to pay too much attention being all excited, nervous and overwhelmed from it all.

Kitchen Shimai was from Utah. She found it odd that she remembered so many more details about the taller girl, but her demeanor seemed so much more…"pleasant"…than the blonde's.

"Well we have about a half an hour before we have to leave, so we should probably get settled, figure out where we're supposed to go, and get our bearings." OKAY…I've been here like five minutes and this chick is starting to bug me. This is like my first test, right? She asked internally. Get along with "Frumpy?"

"That's fine" I'm all with the finey McFine fine. I can be 'follow along and don't make waves' girl. "I'll be ready in a few."

Okay Will, get with the program. I need to stop being unkind: no "Frumpy," "Sister Frumpy" or "Chatty Cathy-speak in your head. Willow berated herself for her negative feelings towards Sister Smith, but she couldn't seem to help herself. I have to focus here. Help me focus. These are servants of God. They deserve my respect; I have to earn their respect and I can't do it if I'm all "evil girl, Dark Willow."

She went to the far right bunk in the back, threw her huge suitcase on the bed, and looked around to place getting situated. There was a tiny desk for her books, which she pulled out of her bag and placed on the top. In the drawer, she placed her multicolored highlighters and pencils, and started unpacking her smooshed clothing. She hung up her conservative looking skirts and blouses. That's what the letter said, that's what she bought: gray, black, and dark colored coordinates.

As she looked at the clothing hanging in the small closet, she took a moment to reflect – they represented how much she'd changed. Two years ago, she didn't even own a dress or skirt. Then she joined The Church and that changed too.

Although these new outfits certainly didn't fit her former wardrobe, she pretty much only had a few skirts and dresses she alternated over the month of Sunday services and other weekend or special events she attended. She tended toward the brighter colors, which were fine at social gatherings, like the Stake Dances for the young adults or Sunday evening devotionals.

Dances were so not her thing, but The Church had them and it was important that the young adults attended so they could mingle with other church members. She figured out early on that these functions promoted interfaith dating. Faith and family were the two most important aspects of her new life, and she intended to embrace the teachings and join the faithful – it just was too bad that dances were the way the Church leaders thought they should do that.

She went to a few of them trying to put off the inevitable awkwardness of never being asked to dance. If she did dance then it was all with the getting hot and uncomfortable in heat of the gym. It was just like high school dances; only the boys seemed more polite when they ignored her. Good thing comfy shoes were okay. She figured the lack of attention meant Heavenly Father had another task for her to do, so she prepared – for this.

As she was finishing up with the whole organization thing, Smith Shimai spoke up announcing their schedule: Orientation, dinner, language class, a quick branch meeting, personal study, and then bedtime. Then tomorrow starting six am, gym, breakfast, language, lunch, language, dinner, language, personal study and bed. Rinse and repeat for fifty-nine more days.

Kitchen Shimai finally spoke: "I guess we're really doing this." It was a simple statement of fact, but Willow wondered if behind the perfect peaceful exterior she was just as nervous too.

They headed out to the main hall for orientation. Willow glanced around at the wall of dark pants, white shirts, and ties. She chuckled at how much easier the wardrobe was for the guys. Three or five white shirts, two or three pair of pants and four ties and you're set for the week – as long as you don't sweat too much – a bunch of black socks, and a good sturdy pair of shoes.

They didn't have to worry about runs in nylons, tights for cold weather or difficulty finding the perfect coat to wear to worry about. That had been a huge challenge. It wasn't cold enough in Sunnydale, California to find an all- purpose coat for snow – especially in such a short time. All she had was mom's ugly coat. And, did it go with those conservative coordinates? Heck no. It was brown. At least it looked ok with her flaming red hair.

The three walked outside, across the concrete walkway back over toward the main hall where the large meeting rooms were located. People from all over the world gathered here in preparation for their assignments. Young boys were nineteen years old and the girls had to be at least twenty-one. As they walked, Willow thought back to her first day in high school. It was a lot like this. She had hated high school. Well, not the school part, mostly the people part. She sighed and continued walking in silence. This was not like high school, though; these kids had purpose.

Whoa – deja vu. Willow shook her head and shuttered. That's just weird. She took a deep breath and turned around feeling as if she had just done the same thing not too long before. The moment seemed so familiar. Willow thought. She heard. Yeah. It was almost in a whisper but she definitely heard it: that song again. She searched among the strangers toward the voice.

That's when she saw her. Green eyes met sparkling blue. The electricity in the air was palpable. She felt as though her heart fell out of her shoes.

They say when you go to the MTC that it is the most spiritual place on earth, but it is also a place with the greatest temptations. For her if was at that moment her worlds collided. The old faced off with the new. Her past hurled back at her like a hurricane force wind; smacked her right in the face and sucked her breath away all at the same time.

The girls settled in their seats for orientation. She was close enough to the blonde to occasionally glance over and watch her as she listened. Willow was a little too distracted to listen intently to the speakers, but she caught bits of pieces of the speaker's words.

"Follow the rules, do your studies, say your prayers and God will bless you. Stay with your companion. Go to bed on time. "P-day" is the day you may prepare for the week. You get four hours off to do your laundry, attend the temple, write letters to family, and go to the mall or whatever before you will need to be back to your scheduled classes. In your letters and your journal, keep your heart open and bear witness to the truth and share your testimony."

Each testimonial was the same. Follow the rules. They will help you. Be disciplined. What you learn here and on your missions will set the course of the rest of your life.

As she caught herself glancing over toward the blonde again who sat down the row from them, her mind traveled to her friends back home, her preparation for her mission.

Before joining the Mormon Church a year earlier, Willow had struggled with loneliness and desperation. As a Jewish, and then born again Christian, she struggled with her feelings toward other girls knowing that it was wrong to have those thoughts. At least that was what she had been taught to believe. Those feelings were of the devil. They were wrong. She was cursed. And she truly believed there had to be a way to fix it.

The Mormon faith had given her a new way to look at her orientation issues. It would still be hard to rise above, but it gave her some context for why she felt the way she did. Instead of her sexual preference being a curse, it had been her choice.

The ideology was new and different for her. The Latter Day Saints believed in a pre-earthly existence where as spirit children of God, each person made certain choices before coming to earth. Family, friends, and life situations were part of a grand plan, which she participated in selecting. People she knew there could become family, friends, or associates here. Her choices would lead her to find her best possible spiritual growth during her time on earth.

Being gay was something she could overcome. Those were the teachings she clung to that helped her through each day. The last year, well year and a half actually, had changed her so radically from whom she was to who she thought she might become.

Suddenly the meeting was breaking up. Hundreds of men and women joined in song. Then there was a rush of people toward the doors. As the mass of blue and black suits moved around her, Willow lost track of the Blonde. She fought the urge to stand on a chair and look for her.

Kitchen Shimai and Smith Shimai nodded toward the doors with a quick and silent suggestion to "move" or be trampled. Willow followed behind the other two. Obliviously, it didn't do any good to stand in the way of progress and clearly, these lads knew where to go. Follow the crowd.

When they finally filed out of the meeting room into the hall, the crowd had thinned and Willow took her bearings.

"Hey. There are some sisters!" Smith Shimai suddenly spoke. She took the lead and headed in their direction.

Grossly outnumbered, by like twenty to one, it was a natural instinct to look for other Sisters. They had a special bond. Willow didn't really see where they were going, just followed the other girls. When they stopped, Willow stepped to the side to meet the group to whom Smith and Kitchen had directed her.

Standing in front of her was this gorgeous girl. The light seemed to sparkle right out of her eyes. The contours of her face were barely noticeable against her essence like a spiritual presence. Willow felt like she was looking past all the girl's features directly into her soul.

The feelings surrounding this moment were profound. They alone were inside a bubble charged with the very essence of God. It was powerful. It was an awakening. In the midst of all this unfamiliar and uncertainty Willow suddenly felt a profound sense of peace. She felt like she'd come home.

Glancing down at her nametag Willow saw the familiar characters scrawled in the black and white print: Maclay Shimai.

Willow mustered every ounce of courage, took a small breath, exhaled, and asked, "Which Mission?"

Maclay Shimai gently lifted her arm in gesture and rolled her wrist toward two other sisters standing nearby. "These are my companions: Conley Shimai she's going to Kobe and Colson Shimai she's going to Tokyo."

"Huh, It's weird they put us in groups of three instead of twosies, not that I mind my companions, they're nice and everything, although I don't really know that much about them since I just met them and all, but it's just weird cause there's usually just twos. That's the way it's just done, isn't it? I mean, not that I'm doubting that it's not the right thing, it's just different I guess, and oh, I'm babbling aren't I and I do that sometimes when I 'm nervous, not that I'm nervous of you, cause why would I be nervous, you seem so nice and I'll just stop now." She trailed off.

Taking a breath Willow looked up at the amused face before her. Oh, that's so not good. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Conley Shimai came in closer to the two who had seemed to be deep in conversation, "Heywe'reheadedtothecafeteriawannajoinusfordinner?"

"Cafeteria. Dinner." Maclay explained. "She's from Ohio. Apparently we hear too slowly." She tweaked a conspiratorial grin, grabbed the stunned redhead by the arm, who, in return, nodded toward her companions Smith and Kitchen to come along with them and they headed down the hall toward the dining area.

There was a long line heading out down the hall so the six girls stood together getting to know one another. They tried not to be all clumpy, since there were six of them and the line seemed more snaky then bunchy.

As they waited their turn in line, which was finally moving slowly thank goodness, the girls ended up in groups of two standing together. It seemed each of the pairs were natural fits.

Willow was nervous. She never thought she was any good at small talk. She dreaded the infamous Willow babble and always worried she would say the wrong thing. It was easier to be silent than take the risk.

Just standing there was a little unsettling too and Willow quietly wished she could at least sit and play with her food and look around. She didn't have the luxury of pockets in the skirt she was wearing. That was what she normally would do. Hide her sweaty palms. She could also conceal her nervous fidgets. However, there she was, in line, with this young woman. She took a breath and looked up. Maclay draped her hair a little over her eyes, but she was looking at Willow.

Maclay seemed equally uneasy, although in a different way. Willow had noticed that her movements were graceful yet exaggerated a little, as if she wanted the space around her a bit larger. Willow recognized it for what it was; a way to keep her distance, plus, maybe it was a little excitement. She seemed now to be less animated, more settled.

They stood in comfortable silence for a while and finally made it to the food. After loading up their trays they made their way to one of the long tables so the six could all sit together to enjoy their first of many meals together.

Some of the braver girls grabbed chopsticks and were getting used to the feel of them. Willow, being the overachiever, naturally picked the chopsticks but realized too late that her vegetable selection was going to be problematic: peas and carrots.

Willow had heard that sister missionaries often gained weight in the Missionary Training Center, but now, she was wondering if she'd be able to ever eat again.

"What about this?" she pointed with her chopsticks toward the lump of potatoes and gravy on her plate.

"No, I'm not. Here, let me show you." Maclay took Willow's chopsticks from her. "First, think of the chopsticks like an extension of your first and second fingers. If all you had to eat with were your hands and those were your only clean fingers, what would you do with the potatoes?"

"Scoop and suck on my fingers." Willow felt a bit sheepish, but tried to hide it. "The veggies are too hard. It's like that dumb game with the metal ball, the two rods attached at the one end, and you have to separate the rods and move the ball up toward you and keep the ball from falling. My peas are running away from me and the carrots, they mock me."

"What about the beef? I don't think the beef is mocking you. I think it likes you and wants you to enjoy it. It's just waiting for you to figure out how."

Maclay easily showed Willow the secret of holding the chopsticks. "Now, you'll have to practice to get really good at it, and it's gonna take a little time, so give yourself a break, okay? I don't think the carrots are mocking you. They're square so start with them. You might get a little thumb cramp after a while, but you'll get good at it. I promise."

"When we get there, you'll be able to, but for now, just practice and no cheating. There will be no poking the meat, no licking the potatoes and no sucking up the peas.

"How do you know all this stuff, you're not really Japanese are you? 'Cause you don't look Japanese. I don't think Japanese people have beautiful blue eyes like yours." Eeep, don't say that. Oops, too late.

"My brother Donnie had a friend who served his mission in Japan. He was in a RM group after he got home and when I got my calling, they introduced me to some of the people there. One of the girls kinda took me under her wing and told me what to expect and how to eat and stuff."

"First, cool. Second, RM?" Willow was still struggling with her peas chasing them around her plate with the chopsticks.

"Return Missionaries." Maclay quietly watched as Willow struggled with her peas. "You really haven't been a member long. When did you convert?"

"It was just a year ago. I knew some Mormons in High School and when I reconnected after not seeing them for a few years, I felt at the time that it was an answer to prayer. I had been seeking direction and well, it's a long story. I don't want to bore you."

"No, it's okay, I like these stories, It's why we're here, right? To find other people who are searching for something and teach them the truths of the Gospel."

"Yeah, I guess that's right, but right now, I want to hear about you since, well, I'm kinda hungry and it's gonna take me awhile to coax this food in my mouth. Why don't you tell me what made you decide to come here, while I attempt to apply your scoop and shovel method with my potatoes."

The girls continued their banter for the next half hour joking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company.

"You know," Maclay started again after a brief pause between them, "today is the last day we can speak English."

"Yeah, that's what I heard. We have to start using the stuff we learn right away."

Willow's mind raced ahead, and she wished she had had more time, studied more, and picked up one of those language tapes. There just hadn't been time. She had to go to the temple, get supplies and outfits. She grew quiet as she remembered all the torturous hours of shopping. Then that last week with all the emotional goodbyes: the functions, the farewell service for her, and the open house after where her friends and family came for one last night to say so long. Now she wasn't going to be able to talk to anyone until she learned how to speak Japanese.

A look of horror must have crossed her face as she glanced around at her companions to her left, across the table to the two girls with the blonde, and then right at Maclay. When she gazed into the last pair of eyes, she knew her thoughts had betrayed her fears.

Maclay seemed to read her. Maybe she'd figured out the solution already. She smiled again at Willow.

"We only have to use the words we know." The rest we'll make do with, or there's the tried and true method of pointing and pantomime or "other" forms of language."

The redhead ducked her head in acknowledgment. She'd over-reacted and the blonde had caught her. But it seemed Okay. There's that calm again. Wow.

Next stop for the gang was the first of many scheduled language classes. The sisters and elders filed in selecting seats, which were situated in a semi circle. Each desk had a large textbook, Japanese Hymnal and English/Japanese Dictionary placed on it. At the front of the small room, the chalkboard had the words: "Elder Jones" neatly printed on it. Shortly after the group settled in a young man, probably mid twenties arrived and stood in front of the young men and women.

Hamm Chorro (looking at an Elder to his left in the circular arch of students) Anatawainotte kudasaimasu ka?

After the short prayer, Jones had everyone opened their books to the first page. Oh good, at least it's in English, and the pictures are cute. I can do this.

No, don't say that. Willow continued to listen but looked ahead a bit in the textbook.

"I'm not going to lie to you, but if you study hard, apply yourself, and use the things we teach you here with consistency you will be prepared when you leave to serve your Heavenly Father in sharing the gospel with those you meet."

Jones words barely registered as she suddenly fixed her eyes upon the next page she came to.

Willow found herself staring at the Japanese alphabet and froze. I'm gonna have to learn that? And that's the easy stuff. Oi vey. Focus Willow; don't want to miss anything important.

Jones continued. "Nihongo only has 107 syllables. English has over 2000. Pronunciation is the easy part. You won't run into rules like "I" before "E" except after "C" and neighbor and weigh or different spellings for the same sounding word, like see and sea, made or maid, new, knew and gnu.

"There are different types of Japanese writing: Kanji, Katakana, and Hiragana. There are several thousand Kanji which represent ideas, Katakana is the block lettering which is normally used to write out foreign words, and what you will be learning here is Hiragana."

I'm gonna need some serious self butt kicking to get me through this. I'm already exhausted and I've only been here five minutes.

She looked around the room at the studious faces. Six Elders: Hamm, Stevens, Brooks, and Michaels sat to the right of Smith and Kitchen, to her left, Gardner and Frye. These and the other new group, Maclay's group, were her study buddies. They would sink or swim together, well not really "together" together, but it was gonna be really hard not talking to people if they didn't learn stuff at the same pace.

"AAH EEEE OOOO EH OH" – The sets of companions sat together practicing their newly acquired skills. Willow was amused by the pneumonic memory aids – "mu" looked like a cow; "chi" a cheerleader, "mo" you have to catch mo fish on your hook. Those would be the only ones she really remembered when it was time to test her skills.

While the others were still practicing their writing skills, her mind wandered back to her early thoughts of Scoobie Doo when she'd been called to Japan.

Clearly "Willow" was not going to be as hard as Rosenberg. I knew they didn't have any "L"s. But come on "B" there's got to be a "B." I guess Sister Little Tree or Red is what I'll be. Oh, I can look it up now. She thumbed over to the appendix, the glossary, the vocabulary – no red.

Oh, colors, here it is page 551. Apparently, it's not that important. Let's see: weather, shopping – argh don't remind me. Okay, colors: alphabetical would be nice, ok: akai. That's easy I can remember that. Huh, look at that, green is a noun – midori, isn't that like alcohol or something. Blue is just a (dv) like the others. Is that like a descriptive verb? What, they couldn't say adjective. Oh. Oops. Missing, class. Stop it.

"In Japanese there are not vowels and consonants per se there are syllables. The chart is organized for you by sounds and consonants, but there are variations. You will see the soft pronunciation of these syllables is marked by two hash marks that look sort of like right quotes. The little round circle near the symbol is another variant.

"Generally when converting gaijin (foreign) names to Japanese the block lettering is used. If your name ends in a consonant, or you have two consonant sounds together, you would add a soft "u" to your name. Sister Smith, your name will be pronounced "Sumisu" Shimai. Sister Rosenberg, you'll be Rozenbagu Shimai."

Ro zen ba gu. Hey, that's not so bad, but I'm starting to get hungry. At least they can pronounce me.

"Sister Kitchen, your name will be a little more difficult since there really is not "che" sound. I would recommend you introduce yourself as Kichin Shimai rather than Kitsun. Since many of the words that start Kitsu are associated with strength and not considered very feminine attributes. For example, Kitsui means strong or intense, kitsuen is tobacco, kitsume is a fox or vixen. You don't want to start out a conversation introducing yourself as Sister Vixen by accident. It might damage that first impression."

By the end of class, Willow had sort of learned the Hiragana characters and how to sound out the alphabet. But she had to cheat a little to get them. She even tried to sing the hymn with the group in the hallway after language class ended. Naturally, the hymnbook was in Hiragana. She wasn't that great of a singer, but the Bible said make a joyful noise unto the Lord and that's just what she did. Orientation was the last time she would sing in English for quite some time.

The hymn sounded more like a mass mumbles and nonsense-but at least it was pretty. She heard a familiar voice in the group and glanced furtively over toward the other sisters in the crowd at the end of the hall. She saw the smile; she saw the joy in her face while she sang and the gleam in the eyes of her newfound friend. Her heart melted.

The girls headed back to their respective dorms. They had an hour before lights out to read, study, and get ready for bed. They were all exhausted after the day's events but a little socializing seemed in order. After all, there were 59 more days to go before they would be traveling to their various destinations. Party at Conley's was definitely the right call.

The rules of an LDS missionary are clear: the only time a sister or elder is alone is in the bathroom, the shower or in their dreams. Other than that, it's all companion, all the time. It's always hard when three are "paired" especially for the one who might not agree. In this case, it was unanimous. They would change into their comfy wear and head out. Kitchen, Smith and Rosenberg Shimai went down the hall to their first of many parties in the other sister's room. At least tonight, they didn't know enough Japanese to hinder their conversation.

The girls sat around talking and getting to know one another. They learned more about each other's backgrounds and interests. Again, the group seemed to naturally pair together, Conley and Colson seemed to share similar family backgrounds as did Kitchen and Smith. Colson and Conley discussed their church callings prior to coming to Provo. Kitchen and Smith talked about how cute Elder Jones was as well as their boyfriends back home. Colson and Conley both had worked before coming on their missions and the other two had attended different universities in Utah.

Willow tried to keep up with their conversations, but found she had little interest or connection with the lives of the four others. She felt like she was watching a heated ping-pong match instead of enjoying and participating in fellowship. She started feeling alone. Although she was genuinely amused by the number of times everyone seemed to say "what" whenever Conley spoke. She was currently at fifteen.

She was aware of the silent blonde beside her and had more than once caught her smirking as well. She looked over the Maclay sitting to her right. Maclay smiled shyly and quietly said, "How many did you get so far?"

Willow looked at her in amazement. She wasn't sure if she was really referring to her current "what" count, but it was worth the risk she decided. One word might not be hard to explain if she was off base. "Fifteen?"

Maclay giggled, "I was counting too. I think I m-missed one." She dropped her head a little hiding behind her hair again. "I'm sorry; I guess I'm just not feeling all Chatty Cathy today."

"That's ok; I'm not Miss Chatty Cathy either. In fact, I much prefer watching people in public places than being the life of the party. I'm more comfortable in a library or bookstore than at dances. I'd rather sit out under the stars than go to the beach, and I'm from California. Hello, not everyone goes to the beach every day. I mean, I just look out a window on a sunny day and my freckles get freckles. Oh, I'm exaggerating a little. But do you get it at all?"

Maclay looked intently at her. "Yes. I really do. Hey, you might be able to help me. It seems like you're kind of a scripture geek, oh, um, n-no offence."

"Oh no, I can totally help you, what do you need?" Willow instantly sprang into research mode. This was her favorite pastime. It had been an all-consuming passion after joining The Church. She felt that she had something to prove, mostly to herself. She had studied night and day to keep up with the kids who had grown up doing scripture chases and memorizing passages. There were contests for the seminary students – every day before school when the kids got to high school they attended classes. She'd missed all of that training being a recent addition to the rolls of The Church.

"Well I've been thinking about that parable, the one where there's the l- lights. I-I wanted to read through it, but I can't seem to find the one I was looking for."

Willow thought for a moment, "You mean the one where we are the lights? There are several of those."

Maclay got up, reverently grabbed her scriptures, and brought them over from her desk. She carefully handed them to Willow and looked at her with expectation. Willow began scanning over the pristine pages looking for the passage she thought the blonde wanted. After a few moments, she started feeling frustrated. Come on, come on, I'm good at this. She took a breath.

"I know what I'm looking for but I can't find it in yours. In mine, I have this color coding system to keep things straight when I read them, you know, so I can find them again."

Maclay raised her eyebrow at her new friend. "That's, um, interesting." She trailed off.

Willow felt a little defensive, but she knew her system worked for her. Too many times just like this one, she would be looking for something in another set of scriptures and just couldn't find her way. "Okay, well I bet I can find what you're looking for in just a few minutes if I had mine."

"Oh, you're so brave; you know we don't gamble so you've got nothing to lose." Willow retorted back.

"Nice try." Maclay was in full throttle now. "It's not gambling if there's no risk and there's no money involved. And this is just for personal satisfaction so it doesn't count. But if you want to race, then that would be ok with me. I'll even let you win if you want."

"Oh yeah, right. Like, you're probably just tricking me to get me alone in my room. No, that's not what I meant. You probably already know where it is and you're checking me out. No, that didn't come out right either." (Huge cleansing breath) "Oh, let's just go get my books and we'll look together, ok?" I just have to talk don't I? How far into that hole was she gonna let me get. I think she actually knew I'd babble at her. And oh, with the "alone in my room" and checking me out," like she'd do that. Uh oh, she's smiling at me again.

Maclay seemed to sense her panic once more. "It's okay. I think I know what you meant. Yes, let's take a break from the Chatty Cathys and I can see how well you do the research thing. And we can discuss the little flamey candle passage."

"We'll be back in a few okay guys?" Maclay announced. The other girls just nodded at them.

Willow handed Maclay's scriptures back to her. "Well they probably won't even miss us."

A few minutes later the girls were sitting facing each other on the extra bunk with their books set between them. Willow had easily found four references referring to the "light" that Maclay was interested in.

"You know it's interesting." Maclay started after a moment. "Everything that we believe in is based on what we know from these books. Now we're going to another country to explain in a different language all the things we believe in. I can barely do that in English sometimes.

"Some of the words that we know and use every day to describe things don't even exist there. We don't have shared experiences to draw upon. We don't listen to the same music or watch the same TV shows. We can't draw analogies or use references that are uniquely ours as Americans. It's just kind of weird you know if you think about it.

"It's like trying to describe a duck to someone who's never even seen a bird. We depend on language so much and now we won't even have that. Our basic religious attitudes are very different from theirs too.

"I was just sitting there thinking about all of us. We are so diverse. I was watching the six of us and we were not able to communicate that well even with English in common. Colson's accent is easier to get than Conley's speed speak."

"Ha. That's what I called it too. Well, in my head, not to her face, 'cause that would be rude, but yeah." Wow I really like this girl. She continued, "But what does the light passage have to do with that – because I'm starting to get that you think much deeper and made some connection there?"

Okay, don't interrupt her, let her lead the way. And for goodness sake don't babble. Willow focused her positive energies toward the girl.

"I was thinking that you and I seemed like a better match and I wondered why we weren't put together for our time here. I felt like I knew you the minute I saw you, like we were supposed to meet here and be together."

"I feel like you and I have some kind of connection, like together we're brighter." Maclay let the words sink in before she continued. "I sense that we share some other things too, and maybe that's why we're not companions."

Willow's jaw dropped. She closed her mouth, but it fell open again. What is she saying to me? She tried to decipher each word Maclay had just said to her. Is she saying it would not be "safe" for us to be together, that we wouldn't be good study-buddies, that we are being punished – no that's not it.

"I…" Willow was interrupted as the door swung open. Kitchen and Smith returned from their night out. They were laughing.

Naturally, Smith spoke. "Okay ladies, time for bed. Let's get Maclay Shimai home to her companions and get to bed. Six o'clock is going to roll around here really quick and we have to be in gym. What time to you want us to pick you up?" She said now looking directly at Maclay. "Conley and Colsen Shimai said they were gonna sleep in so it's just the four of us."

Noooo! I want to sleep in too. Willow yelled in her head. I want to talk to Maclay. I'm not even tired now; my brain is all awake. I need to figure this out – what did she mean we share some things, what things? I really need to talk to Maclay.

On the way back to Maclay's dorm room, Kitchen and Smith retold what they had missed. They said the party had to break up after Conley starting whistling church songs through her nose. They were still laughing as the returned without the blonde.

As Willow prepared for bed, she went through the remaining items on her internal checklist.

Mom says there are three kinds of people: those who talk about people, those who talk about things, and those who talk about ideas. I want to be idea gal. I want to be all with the ideas, all deep thinking and everything. Okay, I'm finally getting tired. I have five minutes before I won't be able to keep my eyes open. Better get to the record keeping now. So why am I procrastinating now? Stop it. Write already.

November 8, 1984

Today is the first day of my mission. I got here around 2:00 after flying in to Utah and taking a shuttle over.

I met my companions (doriyo) Smith and Kitchen Shimai (that's Japanese for Sister). Smith is from California same as me, and Kitchen is from Utah somewhere. I was kind of excited and wasn't listening too well – again.

I met the other elders and sisters in our branch too. I think we're all going to get along very well. They all seem really nice.

My favorite so far is Sister Maclay. She's from Arizona and said she lives near the temple there. She's from a pretty big family, guess she has lots of brothers and sisters – one of which went to Japan as well. She knows a lot about Japan already. Apparently there's like a group of RM's that get together once a month or so and have parties together, chat about their mission memories and eat sukiyaki and stuff.

I miss Amy. She was my rock before I came here. I hope she's doing well back home and that she writes a lot while I'm here. I guess mail hour is like an event. I keep seeing people with boxes and stuff and it's really neat how excited everyone gets.

I need to get some new shoes here pretty quick or my feet are gonna match my hair.

Well I have some stuff to get to before I go to bed, I have 22 new words to master and 5:00 is gonna be here in just a few hours.

I'm excited to talk to Sister Maclay some more, she seems really spiritual and I feel like I've known her my whole life. I wish we were companions. But we'd probably stay up to late giggling about the other girls, so maybe it's better.

Okay, that seems pretty tame, nothing about the warm ticklies I got from Maclay and how irritated I was at first with Sister Smith. Tomorrow is a new day and Gym class waits.

Willow's hand swung with wild abandon toward the offending clock. Her palm crashed on snooze for the third time. She'd woken up once already with Sister Kitchen looking at her expectantly. Apparently, she was talking about raspberry hats and a cabbage patch or something. Kitchen had a funny look on her face so she didn't want to ask. That was around three-thirty or so, and it was five-twenty eight now. It was definitely time to get out of bed, but Willow's brain wasn't quite there yet.

She wanted so badly to pull that leg back in, but the cold was helping her to wake up. As her mind began to swim back to consciousness, she gradually started to remember where she was. I'm on my mission. I'm in the MTC, I have a bazillion words to learn in Japanese. The alarm just went off we're going to the Gym – oh, Gym. With. Maclay. Shimai!

Her other leg shot straight out of bed and suddenly she was sitting up. It was a little too fast though. She felt a bit woozy for moment as her head spun a few times; she slammed her eyes shut and black with white dots appeared in front her of eyelids. I have to stop doing that. One of these days, I'm going to pass out.

After a quick shower, she was dressed and ready to go with Kitchen and Smith Shimai to grab Maclay and head on over to gym class. Kitchen Shimai was ready and waiting patiently on her bed. Smith was barely dressed and her hair looked like there was a rat living in it. Willow felt suddenly tense. She couldn't be late; that would be just…unacceptable.

She willed Smith to move faster, to pick up her brush, and chase the rats away, but to no avail. If they left now, they would be on time. Tick tock, tick tock; tick frikken tock. Hurry up already.

I wonder what Maclay meant last night. Willow's mind suddenly stopped. No thoughts filled her head. There was no babble. There was just silence in her mind.

Smith was finally ready. Willow felt like a vacuum had sucked out the contents of her mind. That had never happened before, ever.

The sisters headed down the hall to collect Maclay Shimai, when they arrived she was ready and waiting for them. Each received a hug and a hello and they were on their way, late for their first gym class.

When they entered the gym, Willow started to panic. All of the sisters had lined up in rows and were following the instructor's movements to the beat of the song – some fast-paced church approved instrumental stuff she didn't recognize. There was no Olivia Newton John or Kenny Loggins to rock to at the MTC. Everything had to be wholesome.

Ok I can do this it's just choreographed movements – hands up, hands out, steps forward, and kick and back. Switch. Too bad it's just all at the same time. They all look like a bunch of cheerleaders at tryouts. How do they do that? And how can they be so close together. I so suck at this. It could be worse I guess. I could have to sing.

The three headed into the back and started getting coordinated with the rest of the class. Maclay and Kitchen were to Willow's right, and Smith was to her left.

"Right knee up and down, up and down; step back, together and back, together, hop-turn. And lunge and back and lunge and back. Don't forget your arms ladies, get them up and back really reach ladies lets go. Work your hips ladies, reach across, across – feel those abs. Again! Make it count. You gotta feel it. Good. Get those legs going, up and back. That's it!" the instructor chanted. "Left up and down, up and down, kick back, together, and again. Keep it going."

Willow was a half beat behind, almost keeping up. She kept messing up which leg to start with. If she could just get ahead a bit, then she could synchronize with the class. Unfortunately, they'd turned completely around so the instructor was behind her.

Oh great I can't see. Knee up, oh, back together, and hips and reach side and side…

Smith Shimai stood glaring at Willow, the tears welling in her eyes as the sting and surprise turned into throbbing pain.

"I'm so sorry! Are you ok?" Willow wanted to crawl under the floorboards and die. Not only had she smacked a Sister, she'd smacked Smith.

As she tried to get back out of the way, she stumbled on something else. There was another groan from behind her. She turned to see Kitchen grimacing in pain as well. She was completely mortified. There was a trickle of blood forming just under Smith's nose and Kitchen was now toe stomped as well. This just couldn't get any worse.

Maclay Shimai sprang into action. She started to run toward the door, turned suddenly, raced back and grabbed Willow by the wrist. "Come with me." She commanded. Willow numbly obliged and followed Maclay out of the gym and quickly down the hall. Coming out of her guilt induced stupor Willow realized she was moving at a fast pace down the halls at the MTC. We're on some type of mission, or perhaps Maclay is helping me escape. One could only hope.

Still without another word, Maclay suddenly turned and Willow knew she was not being saved from her earlier personal mortification. She released Willow's wrist to open the bathroom door and they entered. She turned on the cold-water tap and started pulling out paper towels from the wall dispenser. Willow quickly caught on and followed suit. When they had a healthy supply, Maclay took a small handful and wet the towels. Once satisfied with her makeshift first aid materials, she turned toward the door, again without a word, and Willow followed behind.

When they got back to the gym, Smith was sitting on the floor with her head tilted back. Willow stayed back and watched as Maclay calmly approached Smith. She tenderly placed some of the cold wet cloths under her nose, looked into her eyes with compassion, and smiled. Smith returned her gaze in appreciation of the gesture.

How can I be thinking about that at a time like this? I've just punched my companion, smooshed my other companion's toe and here I sit ruining gym class for 50 other sister missionaries. Not only will all these gals think I'm a total spaz, including that beautiful blonde over there, I can't even keep focused on my companion's needs. I should have been the one to help her. I mean I did the damage. I've only been a missionary for two days and I've already let down my companion in a big ole huge way. And Maclay, she's just so amazing, look at her.

Who dares interrupt my self-loathing? Willow looked up into the face of Kitchen Shimai. She seemed to have recovered from her earlier injury.

Sister Kitchen affectionately placed her palm on Willow's forearm and seemed to be searching her eyes for an answer. She saw only love and kindness there. Willow was moved beyond words.

She nodded and felt tears starting to pool in her eyes. How can she be so nice to me? If she only knew, I'm not worthy of this.

The rest of gym class Willow pedaled alone on a stationary bike. Pity she hadn't seen it before the great companion punching and sister toe stomp incident of 1984. The only drawback was being alone with her thoughts.

Internal Willow babble and guilt were a bad combination. She tried to concentrate on the positive, refocus on the reasons she was here. Her mind drifted to Amy and those she'd left behind. She decided thinking about home was not the distraction to get her out of her funk.

Music, that was good happy and upbeat. She tried to put the sounds in her heart and think of the meaning behind the words of her favorite hymns. The classical music and aerobic mayhem around her thwarted that effort. She couldn't concentrate on anything. She gave up on redirecting her mind and started to look around. Peddle. Peddle.

She looked over at Smith, Kitchen, and Maclay Shimai. They looked tired but happy. Just a hint of sweat was gleaming on Maclay's brow. They seemed intent on what they were doing. Maclay had the routine down. Willow stopped pedaling and leaned forward on the bike to better observe.

Maclay's breathing was shallow her mouth slightly open. Her hair was back off her face in a ponytail and Willow could see clearly the lines of her face, the curve of her nose and cheeks and contours of her chin and neck. As Willow was studying the girl, Maclay suddenly looked directly at her.

Willow blushed and looked down, but not away from the sparkling blue eyes. Maclay still in stride looked at Willow with such intensity that Willow felt a flush of heat pass through her.

Willow realized her greatest challenge was looking right at her. It wasn't just about the power of their connection; there was something else, something beyond words. Willow wanted more.

After a quick shower and change, the girls went about their day. She went to language study and tried to focus on the teacher. He was cute. All the aversion techniques she'd learned included redirecting passions that bubbled deep within. All the guys in their group seemed really nice – except the annoying one, Hamm. She thought she saw him picking his nose once, but the evidence was inconclusive.

Hamm especially seemed to take to the language naturally. He said he'd done theatre in high school so it was easy for him to memorize scripts. To him that's all it was, it was just a bunch of words in order. Nevertheless, Willow wanted the words to mean something.

She tried to focus throughout the day, but her earlier epiphany had left her shaken. Even the normal babble in her head seemed quieter. That was just…disturbing. It was almost time for bed and her brain just kept rehashing the horribleness that was her day today. She needed a distraction.

At 9:30, there was a soft knock at the door. Willow looked up from her desk where she'd been studying. Her companions were already in bed. They were exhausted and had been sporting droopy eyelids near the end of their earlier class. Smith Shimai appeared to be already asleep. Willow quietly opened the door.

Maclay flashed a quick smile and held up her books. Ooh, my study buddy – cool. It's like our second study date, cool. Wait, did I just think that. No, that's sooo not right.

Willow silently concurred, went to grab her books and a few pens before she quietly headed out. As a perfect end to her day, she tripped on the chair at the desk and stumbled across the room. She rolled her eyes, gathered up the pens she'd dropped in an effort to keep her self up right, and she meekly walked out the door closing it behind her.

The two walked in silence to the lounge area where Willow sat down with a muffled thud.

Maclay sat down beside her, set her books down, and turned her hips on the couch to face Willow. After setting her books down on the couch beside her, Willow threw her feet onto the table, leaned way back resting her head against the back cushion.

After observing her in silence for a few moments, Maclay spoke softly, "Rough day, huh?"

"You have no idea." Willow started in retelling the events of her day, "So after the gym fiasco, thank you for helping by the way, it just kept getting better.

"Hamm Choro is like the master memorizer and I was feeling all stupid. I kept goofing up stuff in class and about all I know I can really say is "I" and "thank you." I mix my chi and ra, mo & ho and it's embarrassing. My sentences sound like word soup, all with the English and Japanese all sloshing around together, but not in a good Campbell's wholesome goodness sort of way, you know. I mean I'm supposed to be study girl, why can't I get this?" Hamm Chorro is just not that smart, is he?"

"And I was feeling a little disconnected and homesicky, then Kitchen get a letter from home – and what – she's been here like five minutes and has gotten a box and a letter."

Willow could feel the intensity and loving energy that seemed to radiate from Maclay. She wasn't babbling though; this was something else…possibly a rant or maybe a dump. It didn't matter. She could tell Maclay was really hearing her.

"Then at lunch, I spilled my milk everywhere. I'm such a klutz. I think Smith Shimai hates me. You know where most of it ran, right, I don't even have to say it.

"We're getting set apart tomorrow and I can't even seem to find a good happy place mentally. You'd think being here it would be easier somehow. At dinner, there was cheesecake but Elder Brooks took the last one." She rolled her eyes and took a breath to catch up for her next wave; the rehash was not quite over.

"So I guess I'm not too familiar with the cold weather problems of Utah, I mean, who knew that when dew in Provo is cold it becomes ice? I'm on my way back from class tonight; I slipped and fell right on my rump." She gazed up at the ceiling for a moment and then looked back at her confidant.

Her unload on Maclay had been cathartic. She'd felt alone all day and yet here she was sitting with a kind, compassionate person who was giving her one hundred percent of her support and encouragement to ramble along. She's such a find this girl. Look at her, she's so beautiful and sweet and attentive. Just like today when she helped Smith. I can tell she'd probably stop for a stray dog or cat, put her life on hold to help someone out. She'd go out of her way to make you feel good.

"That's it. That's enough." She interrupted Willow's internal Maclay-centered babble. "Let's get chocolate."

"Chocolate makes all things better." Maclay was smiling and nodding in confirmation.

Huh? I thought you would suggest a prayer, reading some meaningful passages, or give me either an inspirational speech or harsh talking to for not counting my blessings or something."

"Well, I could do that, but that's not what you want." She responded with confidence.

"How do you know what I want?" The words came out a little harsher than Willow intended, but it had been a long and frustrating day and how could anyone really know what was on her mind right now.

Maclay's voice was strong, sure, and actually seemed to drop in tone a little. "I know what you want."

Willow, on the other hand, seemed to be going into panic mode. Her vocal cords tensed with every word. "How can you know what I want when I don't even know what I want?"

"You do, you just won't admit it. You want chocolate." Maclay was nodding her head again as if to convince Willow.

"Okay, you don't want chocolate," She cocked her head and look amused, "You need chocolate."

"What are you stuck? Do you have stock in a chocolate company or something? Chocolate can't fix this day; it can't take away the humiliation of bopping Miss Foo Foo in the nose, and crying over my spilled milk and losing my focus in language class."

"No, it can't." Maclay was still smiling at her. "But it beats the alternative."

"Oh, you are just hopeless." Willow was starting to loosen up a bit. She giggled and rolled her eyes.

"About what?" Willow suddenly realized that maybe Maclay wasn't really talking about chocolate.

"Well I was hoping we could go to the vending machines to get you what you want." Maclay was looking at her expectantly.

"Because," Maclay took a cleansing breath, "we need to get up off the couch to get to the vending machines."

Willow was stunned. In that moment she realized she did know exactly what she wanted, moreover she had a good idea that Maclay really knew what she wanted; and Maclay wanted it too.

A tear began to form in Willow's eye. As she looked in to the ocean of blue before her, she felt the tiny muscles in her chin start to spasm and quiver as she fought to hold back the tide within.

Maclay sensed her distress, reached out her hand to touch her face. With the pad of her thumb, she caught the single tear that had started a slow cascade down Willow's cheek.

"Oh Sweetie, it's okay; we can do this." She cupped her hand around Willow's cheek. Now, how about we get some of that chocolate?" Before we do something we both might regret Willow added for Maclay instinctively knowing that's what the girl meant.

"Argh" Willow slowly swam to consciousness. She reached with certainty toward the annoying noisemaker also known as her wake up call. Her hand flopped on the clock and she pressed on the snooze. She was sluggish, and felt the darkness swimming around her brain as she struggled to wake herself up.

In her "first thing in the morning" mind, the events of yesterday blurred together, but she was able to start separating various moments. It had started out with a bang, literally into Smith's nose. She had struggled through her language class and had a few insanely stupid klutz moments. The end of the day had found her face to face with a beautiful, sweet blonde who helped her find some perspective with Chocolate. Willow relaxed into the memory and closed her eyes just for a moment.

After they left the couch, they headed to the vending machines. Maclay had bought them a snack pack of M&M's. They joked about the tasty milk chocolatey goodness inside the hard covered shell. She sat down on the floor next to the vending machine in the dimly lit corner. Willow sat facing Maclay with her back against the vending machine. The hum and slight vibration was settling to her tired soul. The illumination from the vending machine was quieting and almost, yes, it was romantic.

Maclay carefully opened the little brown packet of yummy treats just at the corner.

"The little yellow ones are feisty," Maclay said as she reached her fingers and thumb in the bag and pulled out a brown. "The brown are simple and didn't care about what the others think about them. They are content that they are the same on the outside and on the inside."

Maclay raised her eyebrows, opened her mouth in mirrored demonstration, and slowly reached toward Willow with the little candy. Willow thought she saw Maclay's fingers tremble a little as she opened her mouth to accept the little treat. Maclay dropped the candy inside her mouth.

Willow sucked on the candy melting the hard shell and finding the tiny chocolate taste exquisite. She let out a big sigh. This was the best medicine ever.

Maclay reached slowly into the bag again. Picking up another brown, she smiled and repeated the movement. Willow happily complied.

"The tan M&Ms – well they are somewhat boring stay at home types that's why they are so rare." Maclay continued with her story. "The red ones were passionate; I miss them." She pulled out another brown. Maclay reached again toward her with her treat.

"The orange are often jealous of the attention the others seem to get. They often feel left out." Maclay pulled out another candy. "Oh yellow, feisty. Look out."

Willow opened her month and the candy was gently tossed inside. It hit her tooth and she let out a giggle after crunching down on the little yellow offender.

Maclay reached in the bag again. She pulled out the candy slowly, baiting Willow with anticipation. "Oh, this one's mine." She threw the green candy in the air and caught it on its downward flight with her open mouth.

Maclay pulled out an orange one. She reached out to Willow again. However, instead of pulling her hand away when she let go, Maclay let her hand linger and held on to the chocolate. Willow hadn't expected that. She closed her lips around Maclay's fingertips. Her mouth felt like it was on fire as she felt the smooth skin. She reached out tentatively with her tongue to touch the soft intruders.

Well that is just wrong on so many levels. That was sort of what happened except for the melts in your mouth not in your hands feeding and that finger thing. That was just…too intense. I better get up and go take a shower: preferably a cool one with lots of begging for forgiveness.

Willow grabbed her clothes, a clean set of underclothes, and her bathroom kit and headed off for the showers.

As she removed her pajamas, Willow glanced down at the items she now wore beneath everything else. She'd been a member just over a year enjoying the privileges of membership: sacraments, and callings and so forth. She'd been a "card-carrying" temple member for less than a month; the sacred garments were new to her. They represented covenants and purity of heart, body, and soul. She still thought they looked a little funny.

The top had capped sleeves and shallow neckline (but not too shallow), the bottoms stopped just above the knee and reminded her of a girdle only they were very thin. She'd opted for the cotton material because she just didn't think the shiny ones looked like the material would breathe enough. They seemed prettier though and she'd wished she'd purchased more of them.

She signed as she thought of her commitments and her moment of weakness on her second morning here. Willow started her internal tirade. I stayed out late with Maclay Shimai – although that wasn't a major thing considering the day I had. She wasn't perfect either though was she all showing up at my door like that-all companionless and late nighty.

She finished her preparations for the shower turned the water on and tested it with her hand. Then she stepped in.

Her name is Tara. That's so pretty. I can't believe we talked so long. I don't even know what we were talking about. She's just so interesting. I could listen to her voice for hours, she could recite the alphabet, and I'd be in heaven.

I loved the way she said my name. It was as if she was tasting something exquisite, rich, and delicious. When she held the "w" out at the end – she just looked well just down right scrumptious. And she was so cute doing all those little voices for each of the M&M's. Poor little orange, it was so misunderstood. It just wanted the things the others had. Willow flashed back to her morning dream and suddenly felt her knees go weak.

Back on track Rosenburg. She stepped further under the water stream. This is day three. They are setting us apart today. I need to be in the right place – like the brown M&Ms same on the outside as the inside, just a harder cover shell. She ducked her head under the water. Her red locks darkened and a slight hint of a natural curl emerged. This is a big, big day. I have places to go, things to do, Japanese to learn. Yes, I can do this. Hi, dekimasu. No, that's not quite what she said. No, not 'you can do this.' She said, "We can do this."

What Willow didn't know was on the other side of the dorms Tara too was struggling with her own internal confusion and frustration. The redhead was just too adorable for words. All she wanted to do yesterday evening was to hold her and make the day fade away for her.

When she'd seen the debacle unfold before her at the aerobics class, she knew Willow just wanted to crawl inside herself and disappear. She'd been at another table during lunch, her companions too slow to ensure a table with the other girls. She'd seen Willow mopping up her spilled milk. The flush on her face nearly matched her hair. That night, she and her companions had come up behind Willow and the others as Willow was pulling herself up off the cement. They were far enough behind, that Willow most likely hadn't known they were there. Not wanting to compound Willow's embarrassment, they remained silent.

Tara decided as soon as she could, she would go and check on her. When her companions quickly drifted off to sleep, it was like a sign. She slipped out fully intending to stay just a little while. She took her scriptures along as a pretext, and went straight down the hall to see her new friend. She watched yet another moment of despair unfolded for poor Willow when she'd stubbed her toe on the chair and sent her colored pencils flying. Tara was determined that she would make this day end for Willow on an up note.

She knew their connection was significant. She'd been pondering the things Willow had said, the feelings she'd had since meeting the beautiful redhead, and their innocent yet suggestive conversation at dinner that first day; she realized the dangers inherent to her current frame of mind.

After listening to Willow describe her day, Tara decided that a distraction was in order. She had been quietly observing the girl and finding it harder and harder not to reach over and touch her, to reassure her that this was going to pass. When Willow threw her head back and then looked over at her, she felt the rush of desire wash over her. Her heart seemed to be trying to pound its way out of her chest. She couldn't breathe. She felt weak. Would she be able to resist this temptation for two months? Then what? They might be paired up in the field. What would she do if she had to work side by side with this beautiful person?

Tara knew Willow felt it too. She'd sensed their connection from the beginning as well; she could tell by the way Willow responded to their conversations. When she had said they needed to move from the couch, Willow's eyes had welled with tears. It was too much. She saw it, the raw emotions behind her eyes: the need, the ache, the want. She couldn't stop herself from reaching over, just for a moment to wipe the tear that was trickling down her soft, smooth cheek. She wanted to ease Willow's pain, let her know that it was going to be okay, but she really wasn't sure at that moment that she truly believed that. She wondered, was this a test of her will or her faith, or something else entirely?

She needed a plan. Going to the vending machines had been a good diversion last night, but it was clear that she needed some long-term type of solution to her predicament. However, everything that the missionary did seemed to intensify her connection with her. When they shared their first names, it seemed like they'd bonded on an even deeper level. That was probably a mistake.

For her, getting too familiar with other girls was dangerous, especially when there were already such strong feelings present. How do I back up? No, that won't do. I don't want to hurt her and after her day yesterday, she would take that the wrong way. I can't stay on this path, that road will take me away from where I need to be. Change direction it is.

Willow headed back to her room and discovered her companions still in bed. Oh, more time to do right things. She went to the desk and picked up her journal. She had a few more minutes if the girls were going to the gym and if they didn't then she had an hour. She decided a quick update to her journal was in order. Today was an important day so she needed some good strong sprit- filled rejuvenation – or maybe a cookie.

November 10, 1984

Yesterday was sort of a disaster. It started with Gym class and became like a comedy of errors. It just kept getting worse and worse. I got so tired I couldn't think straight.

No mail for me yet; maybe today. Kitchen got some cookies from her mom and she's been sharing with us.

Hamm Choro is doing really well on his language – better than most of us. We sound funny right now. He said he's just good at memorization. About all we could do at dinner was ask for salt and pepper. They are still letting us do our group prayers in English but they said next week, not so much.

We got our flip charts yesterday. They're all in Japanese – even the people. It's cool.

I hope Maclay Shimai drops by again tonight. We get together before bed for some reading. At first, it was complicated trying to figure out how to keep us always at least in twos – we finally realized we could see each other walk down the hall so we're aren't really out of eyesight. Once I open the door, we can both walk to the middle. There are some couches there by the bathroom area where we can study. There's tables and stuff too.

I'm going to show her my color coding system. I hope she doesn't think I'm too weird, but it really works for me. I was going to do that last night, but we kind of got distracted talking about my day. I hope I didn't bore her.

We are getting set apart today. Looks like the companions are waking up so we're going to gym class, then breakfast – the most important meal of the day! And then into missionary mode: more language, language, language.

The girls headed out to gym class, but today Willow took her scriptures. She was determined to get some morning study before breakfast and her meeting with the Mission President. She decided to focus on yellow with red underline. Underlined red was her color key for missionary stuff. Regular yellow was about light, love and heaven and reward and she'd found they often ended up over lapping – well under-lapping.

Maclay had wanted to stay in for her own studying as well. Conley and Colson, the "C" sisters, were asleep. Kitchen and Smith said they focused better when they got a good workout so off they all went. Willow was amused again at the similarities that the other two pairs shared. She wondered what Maclay was studying back in her room as she tried to read her passages. Today the music was a little less distracting but her thoughts of the blonde in her room were not.

She leaned against the wall with her books in her lap looking for something that would jump out, a word and line, a thought. Nothing. She picked up the larger book, and thumbed through the pages. Then she read, "Ye are the light of the world." Hmmm. Yellow. Red. What are the chances of that? I come up with a color coding system that leads me right back to this, the very passage that I talked about with Tara. Heck even the colors remind me of us.

There was something more powerful at work here than she could grasp. She closed her eyes and bowed her head in contemplation. She wanted to yell, "What?" But that's not how answers come. Answers come with silence. She found her center and was ready for the day.

After gym class, the girls got dressed. As Kitchen and Smith were putting on the final touches of their makeup, Will stood at her desk looking down at the little black and white nameplate. This little badge identified her, made her stand apart from others. She puffed her chest with pride and pinned the little ornament to her suit jacket. She felt the importance more today than the prior two days at the MTC. Today would be the day of the blessing, she was looking forward to the thoughts the president would share with her. He was an inspired person with an important calling.

The whole mood at breakfast seemed more somber today, more reflective. Even the Rice Krispies she'd chosen for breakfast seemed to whisper their "Snap, Crackle and Pops." Of course, it could have been that she'd covered them with too much sugar, but why spoil the moment with truth…

She saw Maclay at the end of the table and gave her a tiny wave. She's just as lovely as ever. She wondered for a moment what was going on her mind. Was she as excited as Willow was about getting set apart? Had she found some inspiration this morning? She wondered quite a bit about the thoughts of her missionary friend.

Meanwhile, Willow was still a little hungry and headed back to the counter for some more cereal. She had been secretly monitoring the cafeteria woman to see when refills would be available. She felt a slight bump against her left shoulder as she dumped a healthy amount of Frosted Flakes in her bowl.

"Hey there you." Tara greeted Willow with a big grin. "Oh, some sugar coated goodness I see." Willow returned her smile with a gleam in her eye.

"Oh hey. Good morning." She paused looking down at her bowl. "Yeah, you caught me. I was looking for a little sugar boost to get me through the morning. Did you sleep well?" Willow turned to observe Tara looking over the selections for her own bowl.

"Yeah, I'm a bit tired, but it's gonna be ok, I am looking for a little sugar boost too, but I don't want any sugar coated cereal. I was looking for something a little more natural…"

"Well," Willow shifted into her 'service care provider' routine. "Would you be interested in Wheaties? I hear they are the breakfast of champions. You could add a little honey to the mix. That's natural. Or…perhaps you'd be interested Cheerios ala red, my personal recipe?

"Well, you want natural, so I'll customize it a little for you and grab this right here." Willow said as she reached across Tara for the natural sugar in the brown packet. She grabbed two packets. Next, we need to adequately prepare your nummy breakfast treat." She took Tara's bowl and dumped in a serving of Cheerios. She shook the sugar packets back and forth to make sure there was no unwanted spilling.

"Now, we have to add the secret ingredient." She handed Tara a spoon. "Blend please." Willow opened the sugar packet and started pouring out the yellow tinted natural sugar out over the cheerios while shaking the cinnamon in as well. Huh, more red and yellow.

"You do this to ensure perfect 'Ohs'. You don't want all that sugar to just fall through the holes straight down to the bottom of your bowl."

"And now you can add the milk, it does a body good." Willow handed Tara a personal size milk cartoon and smiled poking her tongue out slightly in good-natured fun.

Tara raised an eyebrow. A slow crooked grin emerged and she looked deeply into the green eyes searching hers.

Tara realized Willow had much more power over her than she'd previously thought. She was going to have to expedite her plan if she had any chance of getting through the next few weeks – days more likely – without seriously failing her oaths and obligations. She panicked.

"Well I better head back, I'm sure the girls are wondering why it's taking me so long to fill my bowl. I'll see you later, okay?

Willow could tell she'd hit a nerve. She hadn't meant to, but it was so easy to flirt with the Tara. It was like magic between them. She'd never felt so comfortable being herself with anyone – ever. She headed back to her own table in a mental fog. Refocus Willow.

All her books in front of her, she turned to a random page looking for a yellow or red again.

"But behold I say unto you that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you: therefore, you shall feel that it is right."

Okay, that just threw in a new monkey wrench. What's the question? Willow feared it was too easy, to just ask the thing, the question really on her mind. Is it that simple?

Some times, in the mundane, we find truth. We have connections to the world around us, and if we listen carefully enough, we can hear the answers to questions of the heart.

…What's the question? Willow feared it was too easy, to just ask the thing, the question really on her mind. Is it that simple?

"It is that simple," Tara said to her companions. We all have to figure out what we have to do and fit it in by noon. "The temple takes about two hours, but it's a short walk across the street. The mall is an hour or so, plus a bus ride and that's if we find the perfect schedule. We just have to get up earlier than we normally do. We can do this."

Conley nodded in agreement. "We can go next week to the mall. You've forgotten we need time to eat."

"And get dressed, and I was looking forward to my sweats time." Colson added with a slight pout.

"How bout this: we start the laundry when we get up, run over for breakfast, and then dry when we're done, then go to the temple." Tara threw out a possible plan to the two sisters. "We can go to the mall if we have time after, we can do our letters on the bus ride over and grab something at the mall to eat before we come back." She was struggling now, she really needed to go to the temple and get her reverence time, but the other sisters were not cooperating. She also had mall things she wanted to do. She needed to clear her head and possibly plan and plot. But Sweats time. Tara considered that for a moment. Just be comfy for a bit. Mmmm, that would feel good.

"Yeah, that feels good. Is it alright?" Willow finished adjusting her shoulder pad that had slipped in the back a little bit. Who invented these things anyway? This has to be the dumbest thing ever. Do I look like a football player? Sometimes, I just want to cut them off and stuff them here, you know." She made a circular motion in front of her emerald green sweater.

Kitchen giggled a little at that. "You are so funny Rosenberg Shimai. Where do you get all that energy? You just seem extra bubbly today."

"Well it could be the extra helping of sugar frosted flakes I had this morning." Willow's knee was starting to bounce up and down nervously now.

"Yeah and that was after the big bowl of Rice Krispies. I've never seen any thing quite like it. It was like you were on a sugar binge. It's a good thing we didn't have to open all the packets; we'd still be watching you eat. How on earth do you stay so thin eating like that?" Smith tossed out the backhanded complement.

"I'm sure she doesn't want to get into all that." Kitchen gracefully jumped to Willow's defense. "We should probably think about getting over there."

Willow was relieved she didn't have to respond. "Do you want to, right now, now?"

Conley took a breath. "Okay, you seem really anxious to go do all this stuff, but there's no way I'm getting up at five on my morning off to go do the temple and then laundry. I'm just being honest. I want my comfy clothes time too. It's just not going to happen. I can be good in my intentions, but I know I wouldn't be able to get up." She added sincerely.

"We can go to the mall when it opens and when we get back, we'll do laundry. We'll do the temple next week and maybe the other sisters will want to come too or visa versa. I just think we need to pick one."

Conley looked hard into Maclay's eyes. She started to get up. "It's time for us to go on over." They gathered their stuff and headed for the door. Conley walked up closer to Maclay and said quietly almost a whisper in her ear, "We'll have plenty of time and you'll get done exactly what you need to. We'll do whichever. Just pick what you want to do most and do that."

That would be so easy; Tara cringed inside, her p-day schedule no longer on her mind. But what if I did?

"I'm sure they'll let us take notes. One of us will do that for you." Kitchen added.

"Maybe we should take some paper with us just in case." She had finished her cereal and was looking through her Japanese text absent-mindedly. "I think we're supposed to go over in about ten more minutes." From the corner of her eye, she saw Tara and her companions getting up to leave. "Maybe we should go back to the room and get a notebook or something?"

Willow quickly picked up her things to encourage a hasty exit. They left closely behind the other sisters. Kitchen, Smith and Rosenberg headed out of the cafeteria and down the hall toward their room. Willow glanced back and saw the other three heading the away from them way toward the front of the building. Willow projected her happy calming thoughts as her mind drifted once again to the blonde.

Willow remarked offhandedly and smiled, "Fine by me," she added, "it's not like I'm gonna say no to that."

"I'm not sure I can." Tara was looking at her top. "I might as well have spilled red wine or kool aid on it. I think it's ruined." Tara was pointing toward the spot that the others had just noticed on her top.

"How did you do that? I don't even remember you eating anything red. Was it even today?" Conley asked.

"After we're done here we're going to have to go back and get you changed before the next class," Colson interjected. "I can't believe I didn't see it before."

"Oh, come on guys, it's not that big…is it?" Tara suddenly looked worried and apprehensive about the spot on her sweater. "Fine, I'm gonna meet the president of the MTC and he's gonna be looking at my…er…spot."

"Oh right, so instead of him looking at the spot on my…um sweater, he'll be looking that the poor placement of my badge. There's just nothing that says 'sacred calling, set me apart' than a misplaced badge poking out in the front there." She made a big over-emphasized "O" gesture with her hand around the "spot" which made Conley stifle a giggle. They had arrived at the mission president's office.

Tara admitted, "There's really not much we can do about it now, anyway. We're here"

"That's okay, I can wait," Willow said to Kitchen and Smith as they headed in to use the bathroom.

She nervously thumbed through her books while she waited standing near the sink. This is going to be the longest day. She was all twiddled inside. Moreover, Smith had even noticed how much sugar she'd piled into her. Truth be told, she was hoping it would keep her awake. After her late night out with Tara, she was still feeling a little sluggish, nervousness not withstanding. She was interrupted by a flush and then another.

Kitchen came out first, followed by Smith. They came over to the sinks where Willow was fidgeting with a paper towel. After she washed her hands, Kitchen took the paper towel from Willow and threw it away for her. "You ready?" She looked at Willow with sincerity.

"Yeah. You guys good to go too?" Willow inquired. The girls nodded and the three went toward the room to get notepaper and then go to be set apart.

They walked in silence over to the dorms and to the room to gather their notebooks and then back to the main building to the president's office. As they were entering the office, Willow heard Tara talking to her companions.

"We have to wait, but not very long." She glanced up at Willow just as she finished speaking their eyes connecting in shared understanding.

Willow's palms started to sweat, her heart skipped a beat, her mouth went dry, and she tried to swallow. How does she do that? She looked out the window and noticed it had started to rain.

They waited in reverent silence for their respective turns. Each seemed to be lost in personal contemplation. Willow bowed her head with the others but was unable to concentrate; the sugar rush was making her all jittery. She started absent-mindedly looking around at the pairs of feet on the floor. She looked from one comfortable pair of shoes to the next until her eyes fixed upon a familiar pair of feet. When she felt her emotions start to rise, she knew she was in trouble. Oh, Willow, they are just her feet.

Oh oops. Don't say that – that is like saying what else could go wrong or don't look now. You just don't do that. Sure enough without even thinking, her eyes started examining the shape of Tara's foot. Willow started screaming in her head. Stop, no, don't look, don't, stop. Don't. Her eyes did not obey her internal commands. Her gaze began a slow cascade up the perfectly shaped ankles passed the tone calves to the grey skirt Tara had chosen to wear. Unable to slow their ascent Willow drank in the sight before her, the womanly curve of her hips, the soft contours of her waist and stomach. The light blue sweater perfectly complemented her ocean blue eyes. Oh please, I just have to stop. Stop looking, stop, oh… Willow hitched a breath. She was unable to deter her eyes from the perfection of the soft delicious mounds before her; that's when she saw the small red stain on Tara's breast.

Willow forced herself to blink to move her focus up toward the sparkling blue eyes. She sensed a shift in feeling in the room Willow quickly glanced up to see Tara looking at her nervously. Willow quickly guessed the reason behind Tara's reaction and sprang into action.

"Well, yes. But, I'm abnormally observant when it comes to things related to you. Oh, I mean, not that it's abnormal to be observing you. No, that's not it, I'm not like staring at you or anything like that – well actually I was a little, and I'm really embarrassed to admit that right now, but it's kinda true and I really need to stop talking 'cause there are things that should not be said aloud. But I just can't seem to help it when I talk to you. I just sensed that you were uncomfortable, and I saw you were looking at me, and well that's where I was looking at the moment when you caught me. Well not that I was doing something that I shouldn't be doing because getting caught implies wrong, I don't think it was wrong to be looking at you, but then I got all embarrassed. And I just really need to stop talking don't I?

"Okay, maybe just a little more talking. I had an idea." Willow started to take off her name badge. "Here, my over jacket will look perfect with your outfit." Willow's green sweater looked fine without the matching suit top and she was warm enough that it wasn't necessary for comfort. After the name badge was removed, she took off her jacket and held it with both hands.

Tara ducked her head a little, and Willow thought she saw a hint of a smile return to the beautiful woman before her.

Tara recognized the gesture for what it was. Willow wanted to help her. And the red head was so cute that she simply could get lost in her eyes, her face, and her smile. She truly had found a gem in this girl, this babbling girl full of energy who had filled her thoughts as of late. Yes, she was afraid of what the she represented: Desire. Belonging. Love. She wasn't supposed to have that here, now, and especially with Willow. This isn't what the plan was supposed to be. Yet here she was.

Willow knelt before her with both hands outstretched holding the jacket up for her in supplication. She was lending her a jacket. The significance was not lost on Tara. She gratefully accepted Willow's offering and was rewarded with a beaming smile as she removed her nametag, gracefully placed first one arm and then next in the over jacket, pulled it around her as if in a shared embrace. She then affixed her own nametag a few inches above her heart.

Tara inhaled deeply taking in the scent of Willow from her jacket. A warm rush flew over Tara and she was overwhelmed with love and gratitude. "Thank you."

"Sister Conley, we're ready for you, did you want to bring one of your companions in with you." The woman attending the office inquired.

Sister Conley looked at her companions and nodded toward Colson and the two disappeared into the mission president's office.

It would be just a few more minutes. Willow rose from in front of Tara and sat in the chair next to her. Her companions sat on the other side of the room quietly, engrossed in their own personal contemplation. They waited in silence as if strangers in a doctor's office. Willow resumed her downward gaze and settled back to studying her own shoes; that was much safer.

Tara also seemed captivated by her hands, which were resting together on her lap. She hated waiting. There was only one thing she could think of.

"Um, Sister Rosenberg?" Tara said almost in a whisper, "I-I don't want to disturb you if you need to be quiet right now, but if not, could we maybe, I don't know, do something?" She looked at Willow expectantly.

"Oh yeah, back at home I majored in thumb wrestling" Willow shifted into their usual good-natured banter. Maybe we should just start slowly, work our way up to the harder stuff: two handed and blind wrestle or cross-handed two- thumb wrestle in the dark with ticklers.

"Why, I believe you may have met your match, Miss Majored in Thumb Wrestle. I too am well-versed in a variety styles and accomplished in many techniques both passive and aggressive in the art of the wrestle of thumb."

Both sisters felt the tension slipping away as they joined in their lighthearted conversation about the joys of thumb wrestling. They were preparing for their first match when the woman returned to the room calling for Sister Maclay.

Willow was sad, but knew that thumb wrestling had to take a back seat to the needs of the missionary work they had been called to do.

"Indeed we will…Why don't you guys swing by tonight after language and we'll have our match and unwind a little?" Did I just ask her on a date? I can't believe I just did that. Tara was stunned by her sudden unguarded behavior.

Tara disappeared behind the door and after a moment, Sister Colson made her way out from the office.

"We're having a party at your room tonight after class." Willow announced while bouncing a bit in her chair.

"Oh we are? Great!" Sister Colsen looked happy with the thought. She sat down in the chairs waiting for the other two to come out. She seemed to be thinking for a moment. "Do you want us to stay behind to sit with the one who doesn't go in?"

Kitchen Shimai looked around the room suddenly realizing again another problem with threes being shoved into a two situation. "Ya know, I keep thinking of that puzzle, the fox, the hen, the grain, and the man that has to take them all across the river in a boat."

"Yeah, me too." Willow said. "Except I'm not gonna eat any of you…" Why do I even try to talk? Willow ducked her head in shame hoping that she was the only one who had any clue what she had just implied. You know, in a different time and a different place that just would have been down right hysterical.

Willow resumed her earlier personal contemplation. As she considered the implications of her thoughts, she looked up, and glanced out the window and watched as the rain trickled down the windowpane. She suddenly realized that when something is right, it is that simple. However, it's not always easy.

Tara tapped her pencil restlessly against her Japanese text. The eraser muffled the sound against the pages. The voices around her in her class seemed to echo as if spoken through a soup can. She was trying to piece together her thoughts but finding it hard to do so. It's too bad they don't give us any time.

What the mission president had said concerned her. She needed to remain focused on the work she was called to do so that she might enjoy the blessings that were waiting for her. She would be able to teach the Gospel, but she had to avail herself of the tools she had been given: a willing heart, an open mind, and strength to do what was right. He had cautioned her to be wary of the temptations around her, that she needed to be strong and faithful. He said, "The mission is what matters." She had to be patient and true and let her heart light the way. She felt there was something else in the words, if she could just work it out, it would make some sense.

The language part of this MTC experience was getting the best of her. She needed to concentrate on speaking it more. She had never been that great of a student, but she wasn't dumb. She needed to use what was available to her. Maybe singing would help. Maybe the group could practice hymns tonight from the songbook, song biki, san baki, sanbika – yeah, sanbika.

She knew Conley Shimai could sing, heck she seemed to be speaking Japanese fluently already – but maybe that was because she did everything so fast. Maybe we could just really learn a song that would have meaning for us. I wonder if Willow sings.

She took a deep breath again trying to pull her mind back but the scent of the redhead was distracting. This really is a nice jacket. She absentmindedly felt the fabric on her sleeve. She needed to focus, but it was so hard. Willow had really saved her today. She had been feeling so self- conscious about the stain on her top, and the sister had been a lifesaver. Make a mental note – buy candy.

She looked at her watch for the tenth time that class. Time seemed to be stuck. She needed to work out her ideas in her journal maybe talk through her thoughts and figure out what Rosenberg had to do with the big picture. She knew there was a reason for their connection.

Willow was coming down from her sugar high as she sat in language class. Her leg had finally stopped its unconscious shaking. They should just let us have some time off after they set us apart. She wanted to remember everything. It had gone smoothly, but it was mostly a blur. She hoped that Kitchen Shimai had taken good notes and it would jar her memories of what he said.

The actual "setting apart" was different than she expected, it was actually just a blessing – the laying on of hands and a few words of guidance through the Mission president. His hands were heavy on her head. It was a little distracting. She did remember that he had said she would be able to discern the dangers that would divert her from her work, that there would be challenges and struggles along the way and that she needed to listen for guidance and follow the examples of those around her.

She was in language class not listening. This is so bad. I'm a good student. This is so not like me. Willow had been trying to pay attention, but thoughts of her other activities were consuming her mind. She needed to find a way to connect with Japanese, to make her thoughts transition the words more readily. Maybe we could try some hymns out. I'd actually like to learn these so I'm not all stupid when I get there. I mean, I'm not the world's worst singer, and I bet Tara could cover me. Oh and we still have our thumb wresting match. Maybe if I'm lucky we can run to the vending machine for a little snack.

She got lost again in thoughts of her friend. I wonder how Maclay's blessing went. She seemed so self-conscious about that little red stain. I hope she felt more confident going in. She looked very nice in my suit jacket. As she considered her last thought, she bit her lip as the image of the beautiful girl again filled her thoughts. Willow caught herself again wondering what Tara was doing at that moment. She forced herself to form a mental image of the sister sitting in the classroom across the hall listening intently to the teacher setting the perfect example – for her.

Willow reflected on what she needed to do to stay focused on her work. She hoped she'd get a chance to write in her journal tonight before they headed over for the party. Willow looked at her watch for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. She couldn't wait for the day to end and the evening fun to begin. Another sugar high was definitely in order.

Willow and Tara sat across from each other during their lunch break. Willow had grabbed some salad and a sandwich and was currently struggling with a condiment package. Tara was looking over her selection and glancing occasional to monitor Willow's progress. Her rip/tear campaign had failed miserably. It looked like the packet was a little mangled, but holding strong after Willow tried to pry it open with her fingers. She had just finished trying to tear it with her teeth. Tara sensed her frustration. She could almost see Willow's brain at work as she looked for something to help her to free the mustard.

Her sugar high was officially over and she doubted if the pudding she'd grabbed would do much of anything. She grabbed the fork preparing to go another round with the miserable little mustard packet. No sooner had she picked up the packet and fork and placed the tine in the middle preparing to poke a hole in it, she felt a something warm and soft touch her arm. Looking up she gazed into the now familiar oceans of blue.

"I just don't have a good feeling about that maneuver." Tara looked into the sea green eyes searching hers in earnest. "I'd hate to see that pretty green sweater with a matching stain like mine on it. Here let me try. Dekimasu ka?" [May I do it?] Willow was feeling a little desperate and frankly hungry and if the Maclay thought she could best the little brat packet who was she to argue.

"Knock yourself out." Willow smiled and gently tossed it over to Tara. "This I have to see." Willow folded her arms across her chest and waited for the show to begin.

Tara picked up the little package and studied it. Willow had certainly made an impression on the rectangle but not enough to gain entry. Feeling the weight of Willow's stare, Tara carefully grasped the corner of the packet in between her fingers placing the edge of her fingers along either side of the manufacturers mark. Glancing up at Willow as she pulled gently in either direction she felt the packet give a little.

"It's about finesse." Tara was teasing now. "You just have to get it started and then the mustard is all yours." Her eyes twinkled as she watched Willow react. Gotcha.

Willow gasped quietly and held her breath. Okay, you need a good wholesome response, Willow.

Tara pretended to be distracted by her food. Oh gosh, she is just too adorable.

"What did the mustard do?" Tara looked over at Willow with a coy and seductive smile. She just couldn't help herself she just loved goading the redhead. Oh, now I've left a huge opening. She's not going to be able to say anything without it sounding very wrong. It's just so easy with her.

"Oh, that's so unfair; you know exactly what the mustard did. It was just in there waiting to be…"used" and the outside was impervious and then you came along and, and, and…oh fine…you win this round Miss Sister Maclay Shimai person."

"Oh you know exactly what, what." Okay, she is officially evil and I think I'm really falling for her. She took another slow breath and completed her thought. God help me.

All of the girls seemed lost in thought and a little tired. It was Saturday. Sunday would alter their class schedules a little bit and then Monday it would be P-day. They would have four hours to accomplish all their preparations for the upcoming week. All Willow wanted to do now was sleep. Willow blinked slowly and glanced at her watch. Their second language class was almost over and they had a date with the other sisters.

Every day she felt more tired than the day before. This was the schedule, like it or not for the next eighteen months, so she needed to get used to it. No time outs for personal study, or a nap or just a little break; there would be no alone time, no music or television or movies or anything not related to the work. It was just her and her companion, a weekly planner and an occasional dinner appointment (DA) to break up the day's events. The training center was the only time she'd get a moment to enjoy the fellowship of so many others facing the same challenges. So tired or not, they would party.

Kitchen, Smith and Rosenberg showed up at Conley's room shortly after language let out. After the branch group sing, they had hurried through rain back to the dorms for a quick change into comfortable clothes. When they got there, Colson was giddy and had her camera out.

Despite the protests of several of the girls, she managed to talk them into a group photo. She lined all the girls up by hair color. Smith and Colson, the two lighter blondes, would take the ends – mostly because Colson was camera operator and soon to be owner of the photo. She was in charge. Kitchen and Conley sat beside their respective companions. Willow and Tara sat in the middle. Once she had everyone in a sitting position, she realized something just wasn't right.

"We're in our comfy clothes. Let's get cozy." She set the timer on the camera after several checks through the lens. "Okay, on the count of three everyone fall left and lie down. We have ten seconds before the shot." Ready? Onetwothreeee."

There was a chaotic chorus of unified yells: "Wait! No! Hang on! What? One lone voice rang out after the others: "Look out!"

Smith toppled left, Kitchen and Willow like dominoes they were falling, but the movement temporarily stopped as everyone watched in awe as Colson jumped back behind Conley.

Colson shouted out, "everyone get down." The rest of the domino sisters fell. "Okay now squoonch together."

Amazingly, the bunk held the weight, and after a lot of maneuvering, all six of the girls lined up in some semblance of a row. It was a tight fit.

Kitchen still holding her smile tried not to move her lips. "What did you set it for?"

Tara had been afraid to breathe, but she inhaled after a moment. She was directly behind Willow and could smell the gentle fragrance of her shampoo. She was almost against Willow's back and Conley was snug up against her. With the pressure behind her, she was finding it hard not to fall forward. Moreover, she had nowhere to put her arm.

Willow could feel Tara behind her. The sensations were almost too much to take. She felt Tara's breath on her neck and it sent a pleasant shiver through her body. She could tell Tara was tense behind her almost as though she was struggling to keep an invisible barrier between them, but then she felt a change.

A tentative arm draped across her waist. It was a light touch at first, but soon she felt it relax. She nearly closed her eyes when she felt the body behind her rest and press against her back. She could feel the warmth radiate through her. She couldn't resist the urge to push back to feel the closeness and curves of Tara as she spooned behind her.

"Okay, I'm gonna check it." Colson got up and walked in front of the camera, just as the flash went off.

"That's ok, we're gonna get it, just sit tight for one more second." Colson fiddled with the camera again.

"Well at least I can relax my face." Conley said as she started stretching out her jaw and face muscles.

Willow felt the arm around her waist tighten and the soft breasts and stomach mold into her back. She felt like Tara was everywhere. She was euphoric. She thought her eyes were going to roll into her head.

Colson broke the intensity, "Okay, I think I've got it. Everyone say…um…senkiyoshi" [missionary].

Smith Shimai hopped off the bed and the others followed. Willow and Tara were last off the bed and they resumed their positions in a circle around the room on the floor.

When Tara finally glanced over at Willow, she was lost in the sea green eyes before her. Willow was looking at her with such intensity she felt like she couldn't breathe. They spoke without saying a word; their connection so intense there was no denying the power between them. Their gaze turned into a stare. Willow had to remind herself to breathe. It was as though she couldn't pull away from the ocean blue eyes. Tara was captivated as well and she couldn't move. Time stopped. The world stood still.

Neither girl knew what image Colson captured. They only knew that the one in front of them was permanently imprinted on their souls.

"Cookies, I got cookies." Colson was elated and ready to share. "My mom sent me cookies today." Willow and Tara finally broke through the compelling force that seemed to lock their eyes together. They looked over at Colson who was still almost annoyingly cheerful.

Willow shot Tara a quick look and stifled a giggle. Tara returned the expression and then quickly ducked her head eyes behind her hair.

"Maclay got a box too, what'd ya get?" Colson's sat Indian style on the floor her knees bouncing up and down. She was just a few seconds short of lift off.

Tara was caught off guard. It was the first mail she'd received, and she knew that not everyone in the room had gotten something from home yet. Her eyes darted around the room looking at the expectant faces in front of her. "Oh, it was just a letter and some s-socks; it was kind of a gag gift."

"Oh, that's nice." Smith was weighing in. "Does your family think you have cold feet?"

Kitchen jumped in to the rescue again, "I'm sure Tara would prefer keeping her feet off of our list of topics for the evening, especially when we're going to be eating cookies." She redirected her gaze back to Colson. When she caught her attention, she opened her eyelids slightly wider and silently conveyed to the sister it was time to start passing out the goodies.

Without a word, Colson bounced off the floor and grabbed the box that was on her study desk. She removed the lid, placed it back on the desk, and took the box full of cookies back to the circle of sisters on the floor. She smiled at each of the sisters as they selected their cookie from the box.

See this is why I haven't gotten very good at this language stuff – I just don't think to do that. Willow chastised herself. "Arigato gozaimasu." She bowed her head toward the sister.

Willow was determined now. She held up the cookie. "Kore wa 'cookie' desu" [this is a cookie].

Conley started to laugh too. "Watakushitakushi wa 'cookies' ga arimasu" [We have cookies].

Colson busted out laughing. She quickly put down the box, picked up her sweater, and slowly put it on. Then she sat in her chair and looked at everyone in the room. "Won't you be my neighbor?"

"No, no, no, wrong show." Even Kitchen was playing now and in a low gravelly voice said: "Mmmm, watakushi wa 'cookies' ga ai shite imasu." [I love cookies] Then she took the cookie in one hand, shoved the whole thing in her mouth stuffing her cheeks full of cookie, and made sure to spill a few crumbs in the process.

The girls bellowed with laughter. Such behavior was simply unexpected from Sister Kitchen.

Conley looked intently at Kitchen and asked, "Anata wa "cookies" ga suki deshita ka, Cookie Monster san?" [Did you like the cookies, Cookie Monster?].

Kitchen Shimai moved the cookie around in her mouth so her cheeks were puffed out. Responding in her Cookie Monster voice again Kitchen said, "Hai. Honto ni suki deshita." [Yes, (I) really liked (them)].

Smith Shimai wiped tears from her cheeks, Willow grasped her chest trying to breathe, and Tara was holding her side. When Colson suddenly snorted, they erupted again. Kitchen was laughing so hard nothing was coming out. Conley's face was contorted and red. She started banging her forehead against her hand trying to gain composure.

"Oh gosh, I think I'm gonna pee." Smith complained and another round of hysterics began.

"Ahhh." Willow said after she was able to breathe again. "I totally needed that."

"Nope"
"All good"
"I'm Fine"
"Save me a seat." Conley wisecracked and the girls giggled again.

For that comment, Colson earned a chorus of groans. "What? What?" She dragged out the words and her face reflected naïve innocence. "That was funny."

Smith looked confused, "You have a holiday in Canada for that too?" Her mind still on the prior topic, she hadn't caught the transition.

Another refrain of giggles erupted as Willow and Tara headed out the door and closed it behind them. They could still hear laughter as they walked down the hall.

"So, what are you doing for P-day?" Tara asked. They had reached the lounge area in front of the bathrooms. Willow quickly looked around not wanting to go into the bathroom for an echoing conversation; she leaned against the back of the couch facing Tara.

"Oh, um, I don't know. I really need some new shoes, so I'd like to go to the mall, but I have a lot of things I'd like to get caught up on. I'm behind in my journal, and I need to study my vocabulary and do laundry. We have to work in what the others want to do too. Is it just me or does the four hours off we get just not seem like enough time to you?"

"Oh no," Tara looked intently toward Willow, "I feel the same way, if fact we were just talking about that today. There's so much to do, and the other's want some comfortable clothes time, which, actually, was starting to sound really nice. But I kind of think I need to stay focused right now. I don't want things to distract me, you know." Tara was still looking, searching Willow's eyes. They quickly shifted from the right to the left as if trying to determine if Willow had understood her meaning. "And if it's still raining, being all warm in my sweats would be nice, but I really need to get my laundry cleaned."

"True." Willow trailed off. She seemed to be contemplating something. A long pause in the conversation ensued.

"You're not going to suggest chocolate again are you?" Willow realized she had been caught up in her thoughts, but she wasn't going to admit that at the moment.

Tara turned and leaned on the couch next to Willow. "No, no chocolate, not right now." Tara looked at her feet. "What's on your mind?"

"I, um, various sounds of hesitation." Willow looked at her hands. She was not sure how to answer. "Um."

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me." Tara started moving her foot on the floor as if she were playing with dust bunnies.

"No, that's not it. I just got this song stuck in my head for a minute when we were talking about the laundry." Willow looked over at Tara sheepishly. She forced a grin.

Tara saw the movement in her peripheral vision and knew Willow was looking at her. She looked over just in time to see the grin. "That's not all though, is it? You're mind is too complex to have just one thought in it."

"Me? Tara turned on the couch so she was more directly facing Willow, her gaze reflected sincerity. Then she grinned. It was a half smirk that Willow had never seen Tara do before. "Never…" She dragged out the word and Willow wondered if she'd just discovered a new aspect of Tara to fall for.

"So do I get the cliff notes or the whole train of random Willow-thoughts?" Again, Tara was looking at Willow, gazing over her features.

"I don't know Miss Maclay, do you think you can handle the randomness of Willow-thoughts. I don't want to be a distraction for you. I know we're on a mission here." Willow nodded once toward the bathroom, but the double meaning for Tara was clear.

"Oh, I think I can handle it." Tara said with confidence, but truth be told she was not that sure.

Okay, get ready for the inner workings of the cute little red head. You asked for it Tara, and she's gonna walk you through it.

First, we were all talking about the Muppets, and I've kind of attached some meaning to certain colors and I was thinking of Big Bird and his pal, Barkley. Then, I thought of that movie where they went to China and they have to find Fung Shuey.

"Yeah, Fang Hog." She just called me honey. "Anyway, then, we were talking about laundry and I kinda went, china, laundry, saw Big Bird and Barkley on the boat, and that's when the song popped in my head."

"Well now I have to sing, and that would just be of the bad." Willow looked nervously from her hands to Tara and back.

Oh, I wanted to hear that! Can I pick the song? Willow suddenly felt more confident. Anything to hear her sing.

"Oh, of course you can pick. Unless I don't know it, then I get to select an alternate. Deal?" Tara waited a moment to ensure that the issue was resolved. "Sing for me."

Willow cleared her throat and hummed to get her vocal chords warmed up, actually, she was just stalling, but she had committed after all. She started out tentatively.

Willow was on her own again for the next verse. Tara seemed to be listening to the words and reflecting as well.

Both girls sang again together, were gleaming at each other, emphasizing the words and bobbing their heads to the beat.

"Anyway, that's what was stuck in my head." Willow declared rather than finishing the song.

Tara could tell there was another verse but for the life of her, she couldn't remember it. She sat leaned against the couch trying to remember the rest, while Willow seemed lost in thought for a moment.

Tara redirected her thoughts back to the redhead. "Do you want to tell me why Big Bird and Barkley?"

"Oh, that can wait. I want to hear you sing." Willow bounced off the couch a little, and then relaxed again. She'd managed to sing for Tara and it was okay. She actually felt good about her voice for the first time ever. Tara actually had recognized the song, and that was saying something for her abilities.

"Okay, but first, we must complete the mission." Tara nodded at the bathroom. "Okay?"

Tara started to get up, but Willow didn't move. Tara looked puzzled. "Don't you need to…?"

Tara followed after. Her eyes traced the lines of the girl in front of her as she walked ahead. Tara suddenly remembered the feel of Willow as she had spooned her earlier that evening. Soft yet firm. And what a cute little wriggle. Yummmmmy. She sighed as she caught herself staring at Willow's cheeks as they moved with each stride. 'You looked at me and you see your past. Is that the reason why you're running so fast?'

The girls met at the sink after their brief respite. Both of them had questions they wanted to ask of the other.

Willow wanted to hear Tara's song; she wanted to know about the socks. She loved her voice and could listen to her for hours. And there was the promised thumb-wrestling match. She wanted to see that crooked grin again too. She was a little afraid of being so close so fast, but everything just seemed so right when they were together. They were a great fit, like Big Bird and Barkley (although less giant and Muppet-like). Willow grinned while she washed her hands and looked in the mirror at the two of them side by side. A perfect match. She immediately felt guilty for the thought.

Tara wanted to know about Big Bird and Barkley, Willow's color-coding, and all the things that made Willow so unique. The girl intrigued her. But she also scared her. It would be so easy to fall in love with her and that would be so wrong. She was already feeling guilty. She had been taught her whole life that those feelings were wrong and she needed to avoid certain situations. She had considered not serving a mission, but when the Bishop had suggested she go, who was she to refuse the inspiration of a church leader. She looked up and caught Willow looking at them in the mirror. She smiled nervously and ducked her head hiding behind her hair. She could do this.

"Okay, I'll go" Willow jumped in rushing the break of their normal conversational cadence.

"I have a wish list and it seems too long to complete. I did promise you I'd explain a few things about my colors, Big Bird and B, and, there's a party down the hall that we should get back to. For all we know we're missing another Conley nose whistle performance or valuable practice naming items in the dorm room we know in Japanese. And although I'd rather check off a few of my items from my Tara wish list, I think we should get back or at least check in before they call out the companion police or something." Willow took a breath in anticipation of Tara's response.

"What? Say so much without breathing? 'Cause I've been told I do that too much and one day I'll pass out. "

"No silly," say just what I'm thinking. No, can't say that. Tara shook her head and gathered her thoughts. "You just always say what you think. It's refreshing." That sounded ok.

"Oh that." Willow took a minute to consider her response. "I don't know, I don't really think I do that. I'm usually trying so hard to do the right things, say the right things, I just babble and stuff comes out. I think you're just the only one who really hears me." Willow's heart suddenly felt heavy and she bit her lip when she felt like tears might well in her eyes.

Tara felt the shift in Willow immediately. She took a risk in being a little more honest about her thoughts. "Well I was also thinking the same thing so let's get out of here and go over your list. It's probably big like mine. We'll find a way to get through it." Tara reached her right arm out, placed it over Willow's shoulder, and gently guided her to the hall.

They walked in silence to the couches where Tara had led them and she motioned for Willow to take her now usual spot.

"What, state the obvious and make a non plan? 'Cause I've been told I do that too much and one day I'll actually have to decide something." Tara smiled at Willow hoping her echo had lightened the mood for her.

"No silly" Two could play at that game, "You seem to know what I need when I don't."

"Magic" Tara's one word answer resounded with Willow. Just today, she had thought the same thing.

"You know, we're not supposed to believe in magic. Do you?" Willow almost regretted the question, but she needed to know.

Tara fixed her eyes on Willow, she knew what she wanted to say, but it would cross a line she was not ready to cross. The girl before her was so open and trusting she didn't want to lie. Tara took a deep breath. "We probably need to have a conversation and I'm not sure when we'll have the time."

"State the obvious and make a non plan." Willow beamed at Tara. Tara simply responded with a half smile for the second time that day.

Willow raised her hand, gently placed her palm on Tara's face, and gently rubbed her thumb over the area just to the right of Tara's lips. "Thank you for letting me make you smile."

Tara moved her face against Willow's hand and closed her eyes. She allowed herself the luxury of Willow's touch for just a moment.

Willow closed her eyes as well feeling the warmth against the palm of her hand. She hadn't intended on doing that, it just seemed the right thing to do.

"We should probably check in with the others." Willow said as she forced herself to move her hand away. "There's a party down the hall and we're missing it…again."

Tara still not fully grounded after feeling Willow's touch simply nodded. She stood up and started to walk away, she suddenly turned back and faced Willow who was also walking the same direction in front of the couch. Willow nearly ran right into her.

"Willow?" It sounded like a question or maybe supplication. Willow realized the word was conveying more than just her name.

Willow made the extra step and wrapped her arms around the taller girl. Their bodies melted together as they embraced. They seemed to be touching everywhere. This was no socialite greeting at the airport with air kisses. This was a real hug. Willow was already in heaven when she felt and heard the whisper in her ear.

"It's about time you two got back." Smith announced when the girls re- entered the room. "What were you doing, thumb wrestling?"

Willow was incensed. How dare she take that private conversation and poke fun. This time Willow jumped to her own defense in the only way she could think of, "Oh dang, we didn't get to do that. We were so busy robbing the liquor store we forgot." Willow shot a glance at Tara to see if she wanted to add anything.

Tara grinned and the excited look on her face was like that of a child who'd just learned to ride a bike. "Willow let me drive the get away car we borrowed." She looked back over at Willow before she continued. "We had to give up the booty when the police officer caught us doing donuts in the Temple parking lot."

"Yeah, he said he wouldn't book us after he saw the name badges we stole from the Sisters going to Spain." Willow concluded.

Tara over-exaggerated her affirming nod. Conley looked suspiciously at the girls, but said nothing.

"So" Willow dragged it out hoping that there would be no more questions from Smith or any of the others. "What did we miss?"

"Really that's great," Tara moved quickly back to the floor where she had been sitting before. "I was hoping we'd get a sample of that."

"Oh, you missed the nose hymns earlier – she's vowed not to do that again so we don't all get hauled to the mission President's office and sent home for unmissionary like conduct" Smith shot the girls a sideways glance. "We don't want to be keeping anyone up past curfew with our…'disturbing'…behavior." She placed the quote marks in the air with her fingers.

Oh, she is just evil and must be destroyed, Tara mused, but one mission at a time. Tara stole a quick looked over at Willow to see if she had caught the implication of Smith's taunt.

She was not surprised to see Willow looking puzzled and confused by the verbal attack. She could tell Willow was also hurt but was struggling not to let on. Okay that is just unacceptable.

Smith looked startled by the suggesting, but decorum required she comply. "Sure."

Tara stood up and walked toward the door. Everyone looked at her with confusion with the exception of Willow. She was still struggling with making sense out of Tara's behavior. She opened the door and gestured for Smith to go out first.

Once outside in the hall, Tara motioned to her right toward the lounge area. As they were walking, she began. "I don't want to steal a lot of your time away from the others and our little get together in the room, but I wanted to explain something to you." They had reached the couches and Tara motioned for Smith to sit down.

"I don't want to presume to tell you about how to treat any one else or ask you modify your behavior in any way other than to ask you to consider something." Tara took a quieting breath. "Every one of us is here because they've been called to be here. We are all unique and special. I sensed some hostility in there directed toward Rosenberg Shimai and me." Tara took another breath and called out the big guns. "I think you need to understand that some of us are sort of uncomfortable in certain situations and we also have different ways of finding spiritual fellowship and locating our inner strength and peace." Tara looked intently at Sister Smith to see if she was registering the rebuke and catching on to her meaning.

Tara reached out, placed on hand over Smith's hand, and looked directly into her eyes in supplication and with genuine sincerity. "Sister Rosenburg is a sensitive person and is going be a wonderful asset in the field, but she lacks a little confidence. You and I have that because of how we were raised. We've faced the crowds baring our testimonies; we lead group prayers and taught in Sunday school. We've had the support of our families and our Visiting Teachers, Home Teachers and Church leadership all our lives. We've looked to them for guidance and wisdom and they have led by example for us. We've held positions of responsibility, and from that, we've gained a lot of self-esteem.

"Sister Rosenberg has not had that. She is new to The Church and is excited to be sharing her story. We need to be careful to set a good example and not dampen that spirit inside of her. We don't have a lot of time here with her and each other. I'm concerned that some of the things that you say – although you may mean no ill intent – may hurt her and end up damaging that spirit. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Tara squeezed Smith's hand to signal a response was not necessarily required.

Tara looked into Smith's eyes and saw they were slightly glazed. "Say what you want to me in private, but be nice to Rosenberg, okay?" And take that as a threat if you want. Tara added privately. She had no idea what she would do if the Sister's behavior did not improve, but she didn't want to find out. Mission accomplished…I hope.

"Now let's get back, get our Kumbayayas out, and go to bed. Maybe tomorrow we can convince Rosenberg she can sing in front of us so we can learn some church songs in Japanese. Okay?"

Tara stood to indicate their conversation was over. Smith got up without a word, which Tara hoped, was a sign of meekness, and they headed back to the room together.

When Sister Smith and Maclay re-entered the room, they were greeted with various looks of confusion, general inquiry and for one redhead, apprehension. Sister Kitchen looked from Maclay to Smith and back, and nodded in understanding to Sister Maclay. Smith glanced around the room from one sister to the other but avoided looking at Sister Rosenberg.

Willow noticed the change and looked over toward Tara. She called her out. For Me. When she was certain Smith would not observe her, she mouthed "Thank You" to Tara.

The others noticed the shift in the room as well, and Colson sprang into action. "Who's ready for another cookie?"

Without responding to Colson, everyone else quickly turned to Kitchen Shimai to see if another Muppet moment was coming.

Kitchen immediately noticed she was the center of their attention. "No, no, no, no more Muppets, no more laughing."

There was a chorus of 'Ohs" and several pouts and other forms of mock disappointment."

"My side still hurts; Conley sing much better." She hadn't even noticed the peculiar phrasing of her sentence, but a few who caught it started giggling but it tapered off after just a few moments.

There was a brief pause, and no one seemed to take the lead in moving the party forward.

Smith finally spoke up. She still seemed to be less animated than she had before her conversation with Tara. "Maybe it's time to go to bed. We do have a big day tomorrow – no language classes, but a lot of study none-the-less. And don't we have that sister's class tomorrow too?" She looked over at Kitchen and Conley for affirmation. "Plus I really need to put some stuff in my journal tonight and I'm pretty much cookied out. I'm hitting the lull before the sugar coma here. I don't want to wake up on your floor tomorrow morning because no one could carry me back to bed."

Tara spoke up: "Well I know I'm pretty beat. And if I have any more sugar now, I'll be awake all night. How about we meet here before breakfast tomorrow around 7:10 and head over together? That sound like a plan?" Tara stole a quick look at Willow and smiled knowing that she would recall their earlier conversation.

"That sounds like a fine plan." Willow quickly responded to prevent the other two from being able to mess with her next Tara time. Plus she wanted to ensure that Tara knew she caught the reference.

And, that was definitely not a non-plan. I think my Big Bird was trying to pull a fast one earlier – I don't think she's a non-planner – what was she talking about. Hmmm. I wonder if that has anything to do with the socks.

Everyone was getting up to leave, but Willow was lost in thought. As she walked past Tara to leave their room, she quietly whispered. "You know, that list keeps getting bigger."

A freckled hand darted out from under her pillow and tapped against the snooze. She could tell her red hair was going everywhere, so she slowly ran her fingers through it to see if she could put it back in some semblance of order. "Ow," she muttered quietly more to herself than anyone else. Water will make all things better. She instantly thought of Tara. Well that had to be a record. What was that, less than thirty-seconds awake?

She thought back over the events of the past few days. In just three days, she'd met the most amazing girl, had the worst day of her life, and possibly the best day in her life. Tara had made all things better… she amended in her mind. And what had she said to Sister Smith? She looked sheepish when she got back after their chat.

We're meeting for breakfast – Tara made a plan. And she said she was non- plan girl. Hmmm.

What time is it? She looked over at the clock. Oh, plenty of time. She silently weighed out her options – shower or journal first. She opted for shower and grabbed her bathroom gear.

She was going over her Tara wish list as she stepped in the shower and let the water cover her head. My Tara list just keeps getting longer and longer. She mentally ticked through the items as she warmed under the water spray. She ran her fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp with the shampoo.

As she tilted her head back to rinse, her mind drifted to her conversation in the lounge. "Willow" she heard Tara's voice in her head and pictured the word forming on her lips. The image of Tara holding her arms open for her sent a shockwave through her. The intensity of the recollection was so strong she nearly lost her balance and she put her hand out against the tile to steady herself. Another stronger pulse went through her as her mind relived their embrace. She felt a familiar feeling wash through her.

As she ran soap over her body, she tried to think of anything else other than Tara. Her body betrayed her good intentions. Every image she conjured seemed to lead back to their unique exchanges and it didn't help that she was trying to wash. Her nipples were hard and she was wet. Her lips tingled and she bit down on them trying to redirect her emotions. She recognized the signs of her arousal and tried to clean them away.

The silence of the second floor was broken with a shrill yell. Willow nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt cold water re-drench her partly dried off hair. How had someone dumped an entire bucket directly on her head?

"Oh, you are sooo gonna get it!" She didn't really know whom she was going to get, but she knew vengeance was in order. Willow poked her head and upper arms out from behind the shower curtain just in time to see Tara laughing hysterically. She had an extra towel in her hand.

"Oh, you think bringing a towel to your little water prank will make up for the evilness that is you? Willow zeroed in on her with steely green eyes.

Tara took one look at Willow's eyes and she knew she'd made a colossal miscalculation. She had hoped that the stunt would help to redefine their "friendship" to redirect them back to a less "intimate" relationship.

Tara was unable to stop her eyes as they drifted from Willow's eyes, to her nose and mouth. She studied what she would later call Willow's resolve face. Then she looked down her neck to rest on Willow's beautifully sculptured freckled shoulders. She had not planned on the effect seeing a partially naked Willow would have on her.

She tossed the towel to Willow who had to reach out a little passed the curtain to grab it. Tara seeing a little more of the redhead, turned and scampered out of the bathroom back to her room. Yes, her caper had backfired.

Willow was alone with a fresh towel from Tara, a cold head and shoulders, and a new Tara moment to add to the rest of her Tara memories. Oh, Evil Tara. Willow was unable to control the growing smirk that thought produced. The smirk graduated to a huge grin as she considered her earlier thoughts of the non-non planning Tara. She is definitely a schemer.

She patted her head dry with the Tara towel and breathed in the scent of her detergent. Oh, now why did I do that? Willow chastised herself for adding more sensory input to her Tara bank of remembrance. She felt a fresh wave of passion flood through her. Oh no, stop it!

Was that look what I think it was, cause if it was we're both in big, big trouble.

Down the hall, Tara flopped on her bed. She was riddled with guilt. She tried to convince herself that she was flush from her brief run down the hall, but she knew that really wasn't the case. This is just so bad. How does she do that to me?

Tara looked over at her clock. There was still plenty of time before their "date" with the other sisters, but there was nowhere for her to go. She couldn't be alone, that was not allowed. She couldn't really talk to anyone about her feelings – that might get her sent home if the gossip chain were to bring it to the attention of the mission president. No this was a problem she needed to confront on her own and maybe discuss with leadership after she got a handle on what she was feeling. That left only one option. She just didn't have a lot of time, but she had to take advantage of the extra time she had this morning. She'd gotten up earlier to do her prank and she was already dressed.

November 11, 1984

It's only Sunday and I'm in big trouble. I've met someone who has the potential to knock me off my path. I don't want to waver in my commitments, but the pull I feel to her is so strong. This isn't the way it's supposed to be.

The day I met her I felt a connection immediately. There is something about her. She seems so familiar. We talk and we laugh, and I feel closer to her than I do anyone. At first, it just seemed like we had a special relationship that you sometimes have with people. I thought it could be that I'm just feeling extra vulnerable and alone. We are all a long way from home and looking at eighteen months of service. I guess I didn't appreciate the impact that would have on me here – finding a friend.

She's really smart and quirky. I like that in a person. She uses colored pens to remember things, and we had a great scripture study the first night here. We really communicate well about lots of things.

The next day, she had a bad day. That's when I let my guard down the first time. Watching the events unfold for her as they did just melted by heart. I wanted to reach out and make it better for her. I stayed out late and watched her fall apart in front of me. I wanted to hold her and protect her. I opted for chocolate. Seeing her like that – well it overwhelmed me. I'm starting to have dreams about her.

Yesterday, we got set apart. The mission president warned me to focus on my calling and to utilize the tools I've been given. I need to avoid temptations that would distract me from the work. There was a lot more, which I'll add later, but right now, I need to resolve the conflict I'm having about this thing.

I managed to stain my sweater; there was a red spot. It was super obvious. I caught Sister Rosenberg looking at it. Truth be told, I think she was really looking at me, but I dismissed it at the time until she started to babble. She does that, it's charming and very telling if you listen carefully to what she says.

I think she said between the lines that "she is abnormally observant when it comes to me (which she was embarrassed to admit and shouldn't have said out loud), and that I had caught her staring at my boobs." She said all that kneeling in front of me. Then she offered me her jacket. I spent the rest of the day smelling her on the suit coat and daydreaming about her.

I was so distracted I couldn't really concentrate in class. At lunch, she was struggling with this little mustard packet, which was about the cutest thing I've ever seen. I can't help it when I talk to her; it's as if I have to flirt. It's so bad, but she really seems to like me.

Then we had the get-together in the room. We were all on the bed doing a photo and, oh, I don't even think I should admit this, but I cuddled with her. I could have stayed there forever lost in the feel of her. Naturally, there was a party going on, but the first opportunity I got, I made a break for it. She came along too. I don't even know if she consciously meant to. We're just in- synch like that.

While we were alone, she sang for me. I can tell how much she hates her voice and how very hard that was for her. She's very self-conscious about it, and it's too bad because I think she probably could be a good singer if she just let herself learn how to do it right.

She just is so vulnerable. She seems to admit things to me without even meaning to. I mean I think stuff; I have a few things I'd like to know about her for instance – the color thing – but she admits her feelings and organizes them I think, maybe even names them. Her "Tara wish list" I think is what she calls it.

She's kind of a touchy person. She touched my face. I don't know what came over me, but it was the most amazing thing anyone ever did. That's not the worst of it. Later I hugged her – I mean I really hugged her. I never wanted to let her go. When she touches me, I feel like I'm on fire.

So I was thinking that I needed to find a way to step back from her and today I implemented stage one of my grand and yet painful plan. I dumped cold water on her while she was in the shower. That SO wasn't the best idea.

She practically jumped out of the shower. I'm so glad she didn't come all the way out, because I don't know what I would have done then. The emotions and reactions I had just from seeing what I did of her – well…I'm sitting here all out of breath. I don't think it's from running the short distance down the hall.

I want to know what to do but I don't. This is so new for me. I've had crushes before but never ever like this. I've been here three days and my future suddenly is in jeopardy. I want to do the right thing, but the right thing is so hard. I don't feel worthy of this calling or the covenants I've made.

I know I'm supposed to keep a happy wholesome record of my mission, but guess what – this is the mission – my mission – and I'm not going to white wash this. It's hard and a struggle and I'm facing demons I thought I'd buried long ago, but you know what, you can't bury things – they come back.

Tara had left the door ajar and didn't hear the others come down the hall until Willow poked her head in and said, "I'm back." Tara looked up just in time to see Willow wiggle her fingers in a wave.

Conley looked up from her scriptures laughed and in her best little girl voice said, "They're here."

Willow caught on immediately and said in a high-pitched voice "CarolAnne, CarolAnne."

Colson jumped in, clearly on the wrong page again and said, "Who you gonna call?"

Kitchen started to laugh walked over and patted Colson on the shoulder. She remarked a little more quietly to her, "You keep trying sweetie; you'll get it right one of these times. We were doing Poltergeist and you did Ghostbusters – which makes me suddenly want some hot cocoa with marshmallows." She addressed the group a bit louder, "We all ready to head out?"

As the Conley got up to leave, Kitchen continued with Colson, "You work on your 'Gizmo' and I'll give you a lead in sometime – you'll be the hit of the party." Kitchen smiled warmly. Colson appreciated the gestured and nodded. She could do the friendly gremlin, but ones fed after midnight scared her.

She heard Smith asking Conley: "Did that midget lady freak you out too?" Kitchen shook her head to herself and smiled.

Tara took one last look at her journal, read the last line again: 'you can't bury things, they come back,' closed the cover and headed out to face the day.

"Colson Shimai, you are just evil." Smith started in loudly as the girls began their walk over to the cafeteria.

"Oh, that. It's not even noticeable." Colson didn't bother looking over at Sister Smith.

"If it's not noticeable, why didn't you look over, huh?" Smith was in full attack mode and Sister Kitchen dropped back to let them lead the way. She noticed that Maclay Shimai was lagging behind Willow and Conley. She nodded forward to Conley to go ahead with Willow and the others. Colson and Smith were still bickering ahead of them.

She changed her pace to allow Maclay to catch up and walk beside her. "You okay?" She asked quietly.

"I wanted to say thank you." Kitchen glanced over and quickly looked forward again while they strolled through the hall.

"For what?" Maclay thought she knew what about, but didn't want to jump to conclusions.

Kitchen dropped her voice a little to make sure Willow couldn't hear her. "For everything. I saw the way you approached Smith, I'm assuming you had a talk with her about Rosenberg Shimai," Kitchen slowed her speed a little and Maclay matched it. "And thank you for taking an extra effort with Rosenberg Shimai. I think you see the same things I do in her."

They had slowed to a crawl to ensure Conley and Rosenberg were far enough ahead that they wouldn't overhear the conversation.

Kitchen continued, "She is so new and eager to please. I don't think she had a lot of support from home either. Did you know she flew in by herself?" Kitchen looked over in time to see Maclay shake her head and duck her head. "And that water thing, I know she appreciated the attention."

Kitchen Shimai reached her arm out and touched Maclay to signal a brief pause. Then she grinned widely and motioned ahead to Willow and Conley who looked deep in conversation. 'And I think you can expect her to be very crafty and methodical in her plans for revenge." She saw Willow shuffle her books to her other hand. They resumed walking. Kitchen was beaming with glee.

"What's with the grin?" Tara asked, a little confused by tone of the conversation and sudden change in behavior.

"My part in this mission is complete." Kitchen shuffled her books too and continued walking at her normal pace.

Tara stood speechless. Willow had engineered the whole distraction. What is she up to?

The girls arrived in the cafeteria after a brief dash through the rain. It was really starting to come down. They all decided it was definitely hot cocoa and pancakes weather. They got their trays and found a place where they could all sit together. The Elders from Kitchen's district saw them and came over too.

Hamm responded for the group. "Pretty much same as you, I guess, except we're having Priesthood meeting at 10:00. What about you?"

Willow looked back and forth between Smith and Hamm to see if Smith was kidding. I didn't appear so. "What, we don't get scripture study with the Sisters at 10:00?" Willow pulled out her little white handbook and took out the schedule she had folded up and placed in the sleeve.

"What is this 'beauty and the beasts'?" Willow suddenly realized that Smith was not exaggerating the beauty school drop out implication. "The guys get to learn how to tie their ties and we get, what, how to keep our nylons up?"

"Oh, we already know how to do that. We get actual study time." Stevens remarked. It wasn't helping Willow's mood.

Elder Brooks chuckled at Rosenberg's distress. "You know, it probably won't be that bad, and if it is, you can complain to me about it. I have three sisters and they harass me a lot about my wrinkled pants."

"Oh, yeah, talking about wrinkly pants is so close to 'you're ugly now here's how we make you pretty'." Willow was incensed. "This is so unfair. Are we being punished for something?" Willow suddenly realized she was ranting. She slowly stirred her applesauce. "I mean, I know we could use advice and stuff about what to wear to reflect the proper image, but, but, okay, I know double standards annoy me and I'll just stop talking now."

Elder Brooks looked at her with in earnest. "You're right, it's not fair, it's not the same, but it's the way life is. You are judged differently than we are. We're white shirts and ties; you have to be perfect, and beautiful, and elegant." He smiled at her warmly. "You go right ahead and complain, just not to anyone who isn't wearing a badge right now."

Willow looked around and noticed everyone – Elders and Sisters – were all nodding in unison. "I get it: secret club against social inequalities. Check."

"We're here for each other." Stevens added. "And if we're not, consider this: at least sandals and togas are not the fashion trend at the moment. That could be…ghastly."

"Oh yeah, I hate having dirt in my toes and dusty feet." Tara added. "And the dryness…Dirt is not a natural exfoliant; I don't care what anyone says about mud."

"Oh! What if we were in toga wear and stationed in Chicago. There could be wind issues." Brooks added with a shudder. "Oh and how about riding in a toga? That would be downright nasty and potentially chilly."

"Okay perspective people. I see what you're saying. But just think for a moment. What exactly is the real difference between togas and dresses, sandals and pumps when you have to ride a bike in the snow in Japan like we gals will?" Willow added.

The Elders who had been nodding suddenly stopped and actually considered for a moment.

The group responded with various degrees of laughter, groans, moans, and one redhead clicked her tongue and sighed. The lightheartedness tapered off as the sisters began contemplating the statement. The elders scarfed up their meals and the sisters ate in comparable silence for the rest of the hour.

What good is beauty when you're uncomfortable, cold and covered up from head to toe in winter wear – which I still don't have. Willow said silently to herself. Speaking of a cold head… Willow looked over at Tara who was at the other end of the table across from her. She was concentrating on her plate, poking at the strawberries she'd put on top of her half-eaten pancakes. She didn't notice Willow secretly "borrowing" the salt and peppershakers from the table. Willow looked down at her applesauce and glanced back at Tara who still seemed to be lost in thought playing with her strawberries. Willow made a decision. No retribution on a Sunday – but Monday would be fair game.

The Sisters and Elders headed over to the main hall after breakfast for Sacrament Meeting. After the opening hymn, prayer (which was in German by a seventh week Elder) and another hymn, the Elders from the front row passed the Sacrament trays around the room.

Hundreds of missionaries sat reverently waiting for the bread to come down their rows. Willow noticed that Tara didn't accept her offering and she just passed the plate. Maybe she has yeast issues, no, that can't be right. When the juice came down the row next and Tara passed it as well, she was alarmed. Why doesn't she feel worthy? Willow wondered. That's not something I would be able to ask her either – that's just not done. Maybe she'll talk to me about it.

The group listened intently to the messages presented by each of the speakers. Two hours later the meeting broke up and Willow had three pages of notes. As she got her things together, she saw Tara getting ready to go out with the other two sisters. She tentatively approached her.

"Hey," Willow took a quick breath, "I was wondering if you'd be interested in learning about my color system after our last class tonight. I have lots of notes to transcribe here, and I thought it might be a good opportunity since there were so many subjects today, but I don't want you to feel obligated, you don't have to, I mean only if you want to. Okay, I'll stop talking again." She took another breath. "Why do I do that?"

Tara looked up into the soft green eyes that were beseeching hers. "Why do you do what?"

"Why do you want to spend time with me, why do you take notes and then transpose them, why do say what you want?" Tara looked intently at Willow as if studying her for the first time.

Willow stared back into Tara blue, which is what she'd inwardly called the color of Tara's eyes.

"Well I was saying why do I talk so much to say so little, but of course I want to spend time with you." Willow focused on Tara's first comment. "That's not even a question." Willow subconsciously held her breath.

Tara seemed torn for a moment while she considered her options. She finally answered simply and a little quieter, "Okay."

"Okay. We will stay focused and I will teach you the Rosenberg Shimai color coding system. There will be no ranting, no chocolate, and no distractions; it will be just you and me, my pens, and our scriptures. Is it a deal?"

Tara was relieved that Willow seemed to sense the source of her discomfort, "deal."

Willow got into her night out outfit in record time. She gathered her notes, her scriptures and on a whim grabbed her hymnbook. She lifted her books in the air to signal to Kitchen that she was heading out, and she walked out the door leaving it open. She traveled the short distance to the other sister's room and tentatively knocked.

Colson opened the door and saw the books in Willow's hands. "Maclay Shimai, your study buddy is here." Colson announced.

Willow waved down the hall at Kitchen. She saw the Sister was accepted at the other end and she closed the door. Colson, Conley, and Maclay Shimai were in various stages settling in for the night.

"Give me a sec, okay?" Tara motioned for Willow to sit on her bed while she went to the bathroom to change.

After she left the room, Conley and Colson sprung into action. "What do you need us to do?" Conley asked first. Colson also fully involved in the conspiracy nodded her acceptance in whatever Willow intended.

"Operation Wet Red Revenge has commenced. First, we need a signal. I don't want to do anything tonight and possibly wait until Tuesday depending on her mood today. She seemed a little down, so I want to make sure I don't make whatever it is that is bothering her any worse. But we have to set it up. All you guys have to do is…"

Tara was looking in the mirror silently talking to herself. What are you doing? You know you're not ready to face this thing. You know what happens when you try to spend time with her. You're putting yourself directly in the path of temptation. Some demons should stay in the closet. It's not as if you should talk to her about it. Clearly, she's…well she has feelings, but maybe I'm misreading her intent. Maybe she's just extra close to people and feels things more strongly than other people feel. Oh man, I'm even starting to sound like her. Which isn't a bad thing I guess, but I need to maintain the upper hand here. What do I do?

Ha! She could be my sidekick Miss Talks in Code, nah, Miss Babblethon – hah, like marathon she could probably do that. Miss Babblerina oh, no she can't dance I don't think and that sounds like ballerina. Miss Super Klutz, no, not Miss, Captain Klutz, Captain Distraction more likely, Captain Talks in Code and I can be General States the Obvious. Right now, I think her name should be Captain Contagious. I'm babbling now.

Tara brushed her teeth and rinsed off her face. She thought of the teacher explaining how to wash her face and laughed quietly. Poor Willow; she was mortified by all of that beauty stuff – she was right though. Togas, she rolled her eyes, man.

Tara ran down the hall toward the vending machine and made her purchase. She then went back to Willow's room and knocked. When Sister Kitchen opened the door, she handed her the item and the note she'd already written. Without a word, Kitchen took the item and nodded in understanding. Tara turned and headed back to her room.

When Tara entered the room she found Willow right where she left her. Conley was already in bed writing in her journal and Colson was looking at her closet.

The girls went out to their usual area in the lounge and found two other sisters studying there already. They glanced at each other and took a moment as they considered their dilemma. Willow was first to suggest a solution, "Plan B?" Tara looked puzzled. "Vending machine or different floor, you can pick."

Tara considered the options for a moment, "We should probably stay on the same floor, so let's go to the vending area. But there will be no chocolate unless it further serves the work." She winked at Willow.

As they headed over to the vending machines, Willow considered carefully her next sentence. She wanted it to be just right. Just before they reached the vending machines, Willow began. "Tara?" Her voice was almost a whisper. "Are you alright?"

Willow took a breath and sat down in her spot with her back up against the machine. "Okay, here's the thing, I want to say this right and not offend you or anything." She fiddled with her hands and looked up at Tara as if memorizing her face. "If you need to talk or anything, you can trust me. I won't say anything.

"Oh I know that." Tara looked over at the Sister studying her face. She saw only sincerity there.

"It's just, you seemed kind of um troubled today and I was concerned I had upset you somehow and I hoped that wasn't the case, but if it is then we can talk about it and clear the air." Willow stared intensely into Tara's eyes searching for some clue to the girl's recent behavior. Finding none, she continued, "I know we've got a lot of stuff we probably need to discuss and I'd like to firmly suggest a non-plan of my own." That statement did earn a reaction from the blonde, just not what Willow had expected.

"You can't just bury things – they come back." Tara mumbled the words she had been thinking.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." Tara tried to back-peddle from the topic she had inadvertently breached.

"No, it's okay. Whatever you need, but I think it would help if you talked about it – writing in your journal is one-sided. And no one really gets a chance to talk about their own stuff here I noticed, it's all about what we're supposed to think and feel and do, not how we're supposed to work through junk, you know?" Willow didn't want to push, but she felt a strong need to probe her own feelings for a moment.

"Yeah, I know it is supposed to, but you know if you don't look at things once and a while, it's like you have a cake, but it's all torn up, it has holes and stuff. You put the icing in all the holes and then cover up the cake. It may be pretty to look at but there are still holes under there and the icing is supposed to define and protect the cake, not BE the cake, you know?"

"You have the most unusual way of looking at things, Sister Rosenberg." Willow noticed the use of her title.

"Sister Rosenberg is my icing right now, Willow is the cake part." Willow continued. "I'm only as good on the outside as I am stable and whole on the inside."

"Did you really not hear what I just said?" Tara looked at Willow as if she wanted to read something deep within Willow's soul.

"That I have an unusual way of looking at things?" Willow parroted Tara's earlier comment.

Tara was silent for several minutes and Willow waited patiently for her to continue. Willow could tell she was struggling with something huge and she shouldn't rush her.

"You are something special aren't you?" It wasn't really a question. "What I said was 'You can't just bury things – they come back.' But what you just said was sort of the same thing – only with food and I presume you meant chocolate cake." Tara's attempted to lighten the mood.

"You can make all things better with chocolate – except bed-head I've discovered recently." Willow inserted. "Water is better for that."

"I was writing in my journal today and that's what came up." Tara started looking at her hands and looked as if she was carrying a heavy burden.

"You were thinking about zombies?" Willow grinned at Tara hoping she appreciated her attempt at humor.

After another long pause, Willow responded, "You mean like skeletons in the closet, skeletons, or the skeletons that want to come out of the closet, skeletons?

Tara looked up at Willow again her eyes beseeching her not to start the conversation with her. "If we talk about this, we can't go back." Tara whispered.

"But we can't move forward either." Willow's voice squeaked a little. She pulled her knees up to her chest and held them close to her. She took a cleansing breath. "We just have to have a little faith and strength to get through this. This is NOT a challenge we will fail. DO you hear me?" Willow's voice was clear and stronger with each word she spoke.

Tara was startled by the conviction and power she felt from her new friend. "I don't know if I'm that strong." Tara confided. She felt small the moment she said it.

"Then we'll work on that first." Willow paused for a moment. "You can't beat yourself up for being just a crumbly piece of cake. And you can't resent the icing for being icing. All you can do is accept both and try to ensure that you are the best cake inside and out that you can be."

Tara was stunned. It was as if this girl had looked right into her soul, seen her fears and was prepared to face them with her if she had to. She was brave and true and Tara felt guilty for not realizing earlier how strong she was. She knew Willow was right, she had done nothing to be ashamed of, but there were some holes in her cake.

"Okay what okay?" Willow knew something monumental had just happened but she wasn't sure what.

"Okay. Okay. We will stay focused and I will learn from you Rosenberg Shimai. I will learn your color code system. I will learn what you need to teach me. And by the way, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry for doubting your strength. I misjudged you and I was wrong." Willow could tell Tara's heart was truly open for the first time since she'd met her.

"Well, I'm not saying I'm perfect. You're right though. I think if we ignore this thing, it will tear us apart." Willow confirmed what Tara knew to be true. "But we have to help each other okay. If we work together, neither one of us is junior partner."

Tara considered that for a moment, that was exactly what she had been doing. "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way."

Willow wasn't certain how to respond. In many ways, she was like a junior partner, but in some ways, she was not. "It's okay. I think it's natural to assume there are inequalities, but we don't have to be satisfied with that worldview." She decided to change the subject rather than beleaguer the point. "Are we focused now?"

Tara sat up straighter stretching out her back. "You want to check the couch status?"

"Would that mean I have to get up?" Willow grinned a half smile at Tara, the one she found so endearing when she observed it from the other girl.

"Well, I can't carry you back to your room if you fall asleep sitting here. Once classes start tomorrow, they might send out a search party. It could be weeks before they actually check the food in this machine so you could be partially mummified by then." Tara giggled once and continued. "Do I have to give you a treat to get you up?"

Willow considered all her options. Tara favors sounded wonderful. "Mm. What kind of treat?"

Tara slapped the top of Willow's thigh. "Come on, get up or I'll have to tickle you."

Willows eyes went wide, her eyebrows disappeared into her forehead, and she gasped. "You wouldn't!" She saw the look in Tara's eyes and knew she was at her mercy. She had brothers. This would not be fair at all. Evil Tara had arrived. "No, no, no!" she squealed and tried to squirm out of the way, but it was too late. "NO!" She screamed but no one heard? "Oh God!"

Willow tried to fight back, but she was at the disadvantage, Tara was larger, had caught her unprepared and she was quickly out maneuvered. Willow was pinned against the vending machine. Tara was practically sitting on Willow's legs. One of Willow's arms was trapped at her side held there firmly by Tara's right knee. Tara held the other arm down with her left hand. She started out torturously slow. Willow could do nothing as she watched Tara lift her right hand up and give Willow the once over as she contemplated where to begin her search.

Okay, remain calm, piece of cake; if you don't react, she'll stop. Don't react. Don't react.

Tara tentatively reached out a finger, "Are you a slow tickle?" Tara carefully ran her fingers just below Willow's rib cage on her side. She watched Willow's breath hitch and made a mental note.

What part of don't react didn't you understand? Willow cursed herself for being so easy.

"Hmm, that was interesting. Would you giggle for me here?" Tara ran the back of her hand slowly along Willow's side up toward her armpit. Willow pursed her lips trying not to give away her giggle zones, but it was too late. She knew it.

"You know, it's no fun when you don't fight back." Tara loosened her grip on Willow's arm. Willow didn't take the bait. "Oh, possum, that's an interesting tactic." Tara now had both hands free and continued her investigation. "Hmm, some people are more sensitive on one side more than the other. Shall we test that theory?" She repeated her earlier activity and watched Willow. "You're getting better at this. Shall we implement phase two?" Tara raised her hand up so Willow could clearly see what she was doing. With dramatic flare, Tara stretched out her index finger.

Tara saw the panic and knew immediately that she'd found Willow's Achilles heal. "No poking huh? Thank you. I have now filed that information for future use." Tara got up without warning and allowed Willow her freedom.

"You know you're a little evil, right?" Willow asked the rhetorical question as she got up as well.

"You don't know that half of it." Willow stared deeply into Tara blue and watched as the half grin disappeared into what Willow could only guess was shock. Winner! Willow knew she had sent a wave of arousal through the other sister, and she could do it at will. Yep, she's a big holey piece of cake.

Tara regained her composure after a moment. "Soooo," she dragged out the word and cleared her throat. "Couches?"

"Sure." As the walked toward their lounge area, Willow asked, "So what kind of tickle girl are you: grabby tickle, poke, or slow touch girl?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Tara smirked. "Come on, Sweet Pea, we're on a mission here, and there are colors for me to learn and a story you owe me."

She called me Sweat Pea. Willow could have danced through the hallways, but she refrained.

"Yeah!" Willow nearly bounced when she saw their couch was clear. She scurried over to her place and plopped down with dramatic flair. She laid her books down next to her on the couch then appeared to reconsider. She grabbed her notebook, opened it up and set it down in front of her on the table, then grabbed her books and set them down above the notebook so she could access either one. Then she carefully set her colored pencils out to her right so she could grab the one she needed easily. She'd done all of this before Tara even had a chance to sit down.

Tara observed the setting and decided to sit to Willow's right so she could observe but Willow suddenly plopped off the couch and sat on the floor with her legs stretched underneath the table. Tara hadn't anticipated that maneuver, but she decided to go with it. She walked around in front of the table and sat down to Willow's right.

"I feel like I'm in high school and you're going to tutor me in math or something." Tara began.

"Well, I'm no math tutor here, I gave that up for, well I was gonna say Lent, but I'm Jewish and Mormon now and neither religion really observes that tradition so let's just forget I tried to say anything at all." Willow looked down at her papers trying to find something to distract her.

"Do I make you nervous?" Tara wanted to make some sense of girl's sudden behavior.

Tara lifted an eyebrow in response. Willow didn't see Tara's face, but she knew she was looking at her.

"No, Tara, you don't make me nervous." She was still fiddling with the paper.

Tara didn't say anything she just waited. Tara knew Willow was either babbling in her head or considering her options. One thing she did know, Willow seemed nervous.

Willow kept playing with the paper not really knowing what to say. Her mind was working. Tara is sitting next to me in the lounge, on the floor and she was expecting to learn about my color system. How much information is too much, how much does Tara want to know, will she think that I'm a freak. What if she asks me about Big Bird and Barkley? Do I tell her I've color coded us? Do I tell her that everything she does…I shouldn't even think that right now. Man she smells good. Willow took a deep breath, which turned into a yawn, which she immediately stifled.

Tara didn't want to rush Willow, but she felt like she'd left her hanging or possibly just lost Willow to her own thoughts. After she took a breath, Tara boldly asked, "Do you make you nervous?"

Willow had pulled the tiny paper out of the spiral. She had already folded it up into the tiniest paper snake she could and she had moved on to new conquests. She was now twisting and rolling the bottom corner of her paper. When Tara took her breath to speak, Willow held hers. The question Tara asked her surprised her. That hadn't exactly been what she was thinking, but it was a valid question. Willow stopped rolling to paper when she felt Tara's hand warm upon hers begging her to stop fiddling and focus for a moment.

"I don't think I'm nervous." Willow finally replied. She wasn't quite sure what she was feeling…before…now all she was feeling was Tara hand.

"Do you think that I look like Big Bird?" Tara took the opportunity to try to redirect Willow's insecurities.

Willow shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs. Did she just say: "What?" Willow sounded alarmed. "No! Not even, I mean no. How did you…Okay, how do you do that?"

Willow was stunned, "You never stop surprising me, Tara Maclay." Willow turned her right hand over, grasped Tara's left hand and placed her own left hand on top. "You most certainly do not look like, act like, sound like, or feel like Big Bird." Willow let herself relax a little into their touch.

"Good, because Big Bird's hips seem abnormally large and canary yellow is not a good color on me." Tara unconsciously moved her thumb a little under Willow's hand, which made Willow reflexively close her eyes. She had to will them back open. It was only then that she realized her thumb was on a mission of it's own as well feeling the silky skin beneath, the sensitive flesh above and between each knuckle.

"So: what? Am I totally transparent?" Willow wondered how Tara always seemed to know what she was thinking.

Tara realizing she was still holding onto her hand, looked down at them, and then dramatically began searching with her eyes up and around Willow as if determining if she had any place she actually could see through the Sister. She made a face pursing her lips a bit and said simply: Nope, no see-through there." Tara grinned a little at Willow. "What do ya say we get to work?" She took her free hand and patted the top of Willow's hand signaling it was time to re-focus.

Willow gave one more look at their hands clasp together and reluctantly let Tara have her hand back. "Okay, one more question though." Willow looked down at her notebook one more time and fell silent again.

"No, no you don't." Tara began after a sufficient interval had passed. She realized that Willow would not broach the subject. "I just listen to you. That's how I know. You can say anything. This is our time; this is our space, okay? Anything you say here with me is safe. I won't judge you, I don't think you're weird or even a nerd. Yes, I understand that you are an organizer and see things uniquely. I think it's neat. You're the peas; I'm corn. I get it." Tara concluded.

"I'm the cinnamon, you're the sugar?" Willow nearly whispered as if testing the waters.

"Yep, you're my Barkley. We fit." Her voice cracked a little. Tara felt her eyes might start to water if she kept the conversation going anymore. "Okay?"

"Then let's start with us." Willow opened up her scriptures to one of the passages they had read the first night together.

"Ye are the light of the world…"

[1], both girls knew how the passage read.

"Anything having to do with light, heaven, reward, and love is yellow." Willow began. "Anything having to do with service, missionary work, or teaching is red." Willow stopped for a moment as she let the implication of these two colors sink in for Tara.

Tara contemplated for a moment. "Huh." Her mind raced through the events of the past few days. The red stain over her heart, how Willow was struggling with the mustard packet, which Tara had opened for her, their M&M conversation. After remembering, what she had said about the red and yellow, she blushed. It was all true. When she had said they were brighter together. And this is how Willow sees the world of "us".

"Then blue is commitment, covenants, commandments; green is emotions, feelings and hope." She hoped the next two colors would speak for themselves as she stared deeply in Tara's eyes as if to let her read her thoughts. Her eyes shifting quickly back and forth to see if Tara understood there was more.

When Tara looked into the green eyes before her, she froze. She suddenly realized she was also "blue." "Oh, do you have one for that too?"

"Here, you find one." She indicated to Tara to choose either book and find something that matched the code.

Tara grabbed the larger book. She knew she was a little less familiar with that one and that Willow was well versed in it, she started thumbing through the pages. Okay, green, blue, green… She found a page with several colors on it marked a little differently.

8	"We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;
9	Persecuted but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;	[2]

Tara looked up. "This one is underlined, has a box and another color mark on the number." She put her finger on the passage for Willow to look at what she was seeing. "It's got all four colors."

"Oh okay, green of course is for the emotions – being troubled, downcast and so forth. The verses are talking about sharing and so the red is a signal of the context of passage as a whole." It's the mission. Willow added silently.

"What about the blue box?" Tara remembered that was commitment, covenants and commandments, but she didn't see the connection to the immediate text or anything around it.

Willow blushed. "Well, the box usually means that when I was reading it, I was thinking that it had a deeper significance for me personally. When I read it, something spoke to me about commitments and loyalty.

Tara looked at the passages around it and they were all highlighted yellow, but some seemed highlighted with more fervor. She dropped her jaw. She felt her heart sink. The passages spoke to her as well. She wondered if Willow had read the things about honesty and truth of conscience the same way she just had. Willow had found hope in the boxed passage. She was amazed.

"You…I just don't know what to say." She finally gave up trying to express herself. "Wow," she said almost in a whisper.

"Wow." Tara said it again and this time it was a whisper. She was just staring at the book, too anxious or excited to look up. She wasn't sure which.

Willow was afraid to look up at Tara; she was worried the raw emotions pouring through her might leak out all over the girl. She knew Tara would eventually come out of her heavy contemplation and she needed to be ready. She carefully glanced over. Tara was still holding the "w" of her "wow" staring at the passage. Willow felt another rush of heat go through her, this time it started from the tips of her toes and ran all the way through her. Even her ears were hot. It was at that moment Tara chose to gaze at Willow who now was completely flush.

"Willow?" She was barely able to say her name. Tara saw the color of Willow's checks. She too was having a rush of heat, which had begun in her heart and was working its way out to her extremities. She wasn't sure if it was from her or coming from the other sister. The energy between them was so real she wondered if any passersby might actually be able to see it.

"Willow," this time Tara's voice dropped her voice to a lower tone and the last syllable lower still. Her heart was singing.

Willow felt her heart pounding in her chest. She wondered if she would be able to withstand the yearning to close the short distance between them and capture the inviting lips with her own.

"Tara." Willow prolonged her name with a heavy breath. Another wave of emotion overwhelmed her. Her body was humming. "Taraaa."

Willow thought that she was going to start to cry if she wasn't able to touch her.

The moment was broken when there was a flushing sound behind them. Willow was so startled she nearly jumped into the table. She shook her head and tried to stifle the laughed that though buried in her throat erupted more as cross between a snort and a snore. The toilet startled Tara as well, but seeing Willow nearly catapult off the floor was amusing. When she heard Willow trying to keep from laughing, Tara let out a squeaky giggle; Willow thought she sounded a little like Betty Rubble.

"Just you, doofus." Tara was still grinning from ear to ear. Her face was starting to hurt.

Willow decided retribution was in order. She reached her right hand under the table and squeezed Tara gently right above her kneecap. Tara let out a "whoop" and jerked her leg in surprise. Tara was trapped under the table and caught off guard; Willow took full advantage. She went for her sides. This was no slow tickle or easy pokes in fun; this was full on grab and move without pity tickles. Of course, Willow would stop if Tara asked, but she hoped she wouldn't.

"Oh!" Tara's eyes grew large as she realized she was on the receiving end of Willow hand. She deserved this; heck, she'd earned it. She was gonna enjoy it. She allowed herself to be tackled, well actually laid down, as Willow pounced over and took a position of dominance over her. Willow looked so intense with her sneaky little grin Tara couldn't help but laugh.

Willow had both hands moving grasping little areas between Tara's ribs and sides. Tara squirmed but never stopped smiling and giggling as Willow applied the harmless pressure. Willow didn't notice that Tara had worked her hands free, however, and that she would not have the upper hand for long. Tara allowed her a few minutes of uninterrupted fun before she turned the tables – literally.

With her freed right hand, Tara grasped the tabled leg and shoved it aside with ease. Willow's eyes went wide in shock. She watched in awe as Tara swung her legs out from under the table threw one over Willow's head and easily hooked Willow in the side with inside of her left leg knocking Willow sideways onto the floor. She was even careful not to land Willow on the repositioned table or in an awkward or uncomfortable way. Tara repositioned herself over to Willow.

In Tara's recent and more frequent fantasies, this is when she would have kissed Willow. She wondered for a moment if she could, if Willow would let her if she tried. They really hadn't discussed this particular thing, although with all the talking in code they did, she would be surprised if Willow didn't accept an advance from her. This probably wasn't the time or place.

They heard another flush from the other side of the floor. "What? Did everyone drink a gallon of water before bed?" Willow said quietly to Tara. "What time is it? Tara looked over her shoulder at the wall clock.

Tara looked down into the sea green eyes that seem to be calling her, "Why not?"

"Oh, yeah, duh, sorry about that." Tara detangled herself from Willow so they could get up.

Willow and Tara put the lounge back the way they found it and gathered their belongings.

"Oh you're welcome," Tara considered for a moment what Willow really meant, "I'm glad I am." There was a brief pause and Tara furrowed her brow.

"It must be late. Did that just sound a little Dr. Seussy?" Tara let out a yawn.

"Yes, actually it did. Goodnight Tara." Willow reached out and grabbed Tara's hand. She stared at their hands clasped as she moved away from her toward her own dorm room.

When the distance forced them to break contact Tara spoke up once more quietly, "Willow?" Willow stopped and looked up at Tara. Tara closed the gap between them and embraced her.

Willow closed her eyes and rested her chin on Tara's shoulder as she lost herself in the moment. She could have fallen to sleep there standing up and been perfectly content, but she knew that wasn't practical. She relaxed fully into Tara. With each breath, she melded more into her; all her fears exhaled away. Tara had started a gentle caress on her back which Willow matched.

Willow snuck in her room quietly and got into bed she started remembering the events of the evening. She thought back to the moment right before the toilet flushed. Thank goodness I didn't kiss her. Willow was suddenly in a panic. What if I had and that sister had seen me? I'd never see Tara again. That would just be unacceptable. I need to be much more careful…Much more careful with my Tara honey bear. Those words were the last she thought before she fell sound asleep.

The Sisters were in the gymnasium; music was playing from a boom box in the background. She sat on the sidelines observing them moving to the beat. There was a strong rhythm to the song and the girl who had her attention wore a pair of leg warmers, large socks, and canvas shoes. The hand-cut now sleeveless cropped sweatshirt hung off the girl's shoulder; her black leotard was visible from beneath.

It seemed like a spotlight was shining on the lithe girl and that the others in the room faded into the black. One lone figure remained dancing with reckless abandoned. This performance was only for her. As the music played on, she watched in absolute fascination.

The dancer's footfalls hit the floor in precision with each pulse in the music. Suddenly she raced toward her, jumped in the air, and landed softly on her knees letting the momentum propel her. She slid forward finally coming to a stop in front of the girl watching her. Still kneeling, she curled her body and bent her head down, remained tucked in place for a beat before looking up. Another beat and she set her gaze on the eyes transfixed upon her. Another beat and she was off to the dance again. Tara's mouth was agape watching the events unfold before her.

A simple folding chair appeared that had been previously out of the light of view. The chair was little more than a prop to show off the strength and agility of girl performing the sensuous dance. The dancer continued her poses with the chair. Effortlessly, she held herself stretched at a straight yet awkward slant against the chair. Her head was back arms locking her into position.

Suddenly, without warning, water fell from somewhere above the girl. She was unfazed by the event and stayed motionless. The water splashed across the dancer's head, chest, and stomach instantly drenching the material that clung to her body accentuating every feminine curve.

A little drool escaped from the corner of her mouth as she watched the young woman's movements. She attempted to retrieve the spittle with a quick breath and gulped. The image again changed – now she could only see in silhouette. The dancer threw her head back, slightly curled wet hair sprayed tiny beads of water across the room. The droplets caught what little light remained. Tara moaned quietly in arousal. She tried to shift in her seat and felt paralyzed. The atmosphere was mystical; the mist fell like tiny rainbow glitter as it sparkled and shimmered through the rays of light.

The song ended. The dancer had never tired. She approached her judge and stood facing her waiting for a response.

Tara stared at the vision. A stray strand of red hair had curled haphazardly over her freckled face, and landed across the corner of her mouth. Tara stood and bravely reached out and with her finger and thumb to grasp the wayward hair. She gently placed it with the others behind a small shapely ear and smoothed it down to join with the rest of the fiery mane. She repeated the motion this time just for the feel of the hair and skin against her fingertips. She took a breath for courage and with a third caress of her hand tenderly grasped the nap of Willow's neck. She felt the soft red strands glide between her fingers, the downy hair at her hairline and silky skin with her hand and palm.

Tara knew that Willow felt the magic between them, but she feared it wouldn't be enough. All the reasons not to ask the unspoken questions were gone here in this place, in the hush, in this private moment between them. Tara boldly initiated her soundless plea.

Their eyes met. Tara beseeched the girl before her to surrender. Their breathing was irregular but oddly synchronized. She applied gentle pressure and moved her thumb caressing Willow's pulse point; her lips parted a little, and her eyes silently begged for a deeper connection. The music had stopped but the dance was far from over. She lightly pulled Willow toward her in supplication.

The tender prompting was all Willow needed. Tara watched the woman before her as she inched closer slowly, calmly, and carefully to her. Tara's eyes raced back and forth between green eyes and slightly parted lips. Her breath hitched when she felt a gentle pressure against her mouth. Another moan escaped and the vibration intensified the feeling. She grasped a little tighter to the redhead and wrapped her left arm around the other girl holding her tightly against her body.

"Wake up sleepyhead," Sister Colson gently cooed. Tara woke slowly, her pillow turned against her longwise against her upper body, her legs curled up into them. She had her right arm stretched out wrapped up in her blanket and bedding, and her left arm clutched her pillow firmly. She sucked in a breath of air through her mouth and felt her throat tighten. She hoped she hadn't been snoring since clearly her mouth was open as she slept. "You looked like you were having a good dream, I'm almost sorry I had to wake you up, but it's almost eight o'clock."

"Yeah, I guess so," Tara knew it was a loaded question. The sleeping is only as good as the dreams and if she answered the question wrong, she'd give away the content of it. "I'd better get ready." She disentangled herself from her blanket and pushed her pillow back to where it was supposed to rest. After she moved out of bed and straightened it, she grabbed her towel, clothes and small bag with her bathroom items in it and headed down the hall.

There was no noise on the 2nd floor; the bathroom was completely empty. Alone at last, she thought to herself. When she was ready for her shower she realized that for the first time since coming to the training center, she had her pick of all the bathroom appliances, shower included. She stifled the urge to do a little dance.

She turned on the water, tested it, and stepped in. She was ready to get clean and face the day. It wasn't an accident that she had chosen the stall she'd found Willow in the day before. The dream had made her giddy, and something else. Images of her Willow in leotard and socks filled her mind's eye and her heart nearly burst with song. She'd caught herself once already humming quietly in the solitude. She just couldn't seem to get the smile off of her face. As she stood under the warming spray, she remembered the feel of the imaginary Willow lips pressed against hers.

As she allowed the feelings to wash over her, she touched the wall in the same way Willow had the day before. She turned and faced the spray and closed her eyes letting it hit her in the face. Each pelt of the water on her mouth tickled her lips. She tucked her head and let the warmth wash over her. She turned again and bent her head back letting the water soak her hair. The image of the water splashing her dream Willow filled her completely. She almost lost her balance and again she reached out and touched the shower tiles to keep upright.

Tara realized she was humming again a few moments later. The thing about being alone, really alone is you are free to explore your own vanities. The echoes in the tiled room were acoustically perfect. She started out slowly and softly:

First when there's nothing
But a slow glowing dream
That your fear seems to hide
deep inside your mind

All alone I have cried
Silent tears full of pride
In a world made of steel
Made of stone

Shower moments are private for a very good reason. Tara poked her head out of the shower to ensure there was no one in the room with her. Satisfied that she was safe, Tara chuckled to herself a little. She picked up the shampoo bottle to use it as a mock microphone. She continued in song gaining volume and tempo as well as confidence. She began to sway to the imaginary orchestra playing in her head.

Well, I hear the music
Close my eyes
Feel the rhythm
Wrap around
Take a hold of my heart

Take your passion
And make it happen
Pictures come alive
You can dance right through your life

Now I hear the music
Close my eyes
I am rhythm
In a flash
It takes hold of my heart

She checked one more time to ensure she was still alone. The performance was in full swing, her hand movements now choreographed to illustrate the song. She moved the shampoo away and turned her head to illustrate "backup singer's parts." With all the joy she felt in her heart, she sang, her voice loud and clear pierced the silence of the 2nd floor.

What a feeling
Bein's believin'
I can have it all
Now I'm dancing for my life
Take your passion
And make it happen
Pictures come alive
Now I'm dancing through my life
What a feeling

What a feeling
(I am music now)
Bein's believin'
(I am rhythm now)
Pictures come alive
You can dance right through your life
What a feeling
(You can really have it all)
What a feeling
(Pictures come alive when I call)
I can have it all
(I can really have it all)
Have it all
(Pictures come alive when I call)
(Call, call, call, call)
(What a feeling)
I can have it all
(Bein's Believin')
Bein's believin'
(Take your passion)
(Make it happen)
Make it happen
(What a feeling)
What a feeling…

"Is that you Sister Maclay." A tentative voice called from the other side of the curtain.

"Huh, what?" Tara dropped the shampoo in shock. "Yes." She nearly squeaked in embarrassment. She couldn't really tell to whom the voice belonged. She bent over, picked up the shampoo bottle, checked herself over to see if she was totally pruney, and turned off the water.

Tara really hadn't expected that, but she only knew five other people who knew it was P-day and only one would want to sing along with her. She poked her head out from behind the curtain expecting to see Willow.

In front of her curtain was the smiling redhead bouncing happily on her toes. The grin on her face nearly met her petite little ears it was so wide. Tara responded in kind giving Willow her now cherished half-grin. "We? How long have you been there?"

"There, here?" Willow pointed at her feet to the spot she now occupied, "or there, here," she waved her arms to indicate in the room.

Tara's eyes went a little wider, "Here, here," she started to gesture with her arm to show the room but realized suddenly that she was still very naked behind the curtain. A droplet of water plopped into Tara's eye from her wet hair.

"Oh, um, 'now I hear the music'." Willow admitted. "But I only sang the backup for you. Okay well I considered running in place; I knew I had to pick one or the other since breathing is an issue when you do both." Willow smiled shyly when she realized she was now babbling to a very naked and possibly cold Tara.

"Did you want to get out and sing the Footloose tunes, or do you want me to come in?" Willow said innocently.

Willow rehashed in her head what she had said to warrant such a response. Her eyes grew wide in embarrassment. "Oh, I didn't mean. Oh gosh, that's, oh my, no. That would be so wrong." She tried to preempt her babble but the last sentence betrayed her when it came out anyway, "We can't do that here."

"Oh this is coming out all wrong." Willow's voice sounded strained; she wanted to run away.

Tara looked back and forth, "Are we really alone, because I looked several times and thought I was alone earlier."

"Oh, no, there's no one here." Willow assured her, and then realized what Tara was asking. "OH!" Her eyes were enormous and her eyebrows disappeared into her forehead.

Willow realized she'd been had. She dropped her voice an octave, let her eyelids down a little, and ducked her head, "Only for you, baby." Then she waited for the reaction to unfold before her. It was almost slow motion and worth her own embarrassment. The calm exterior evaporated immediately. Tara's mouth fell open, and her breath hitched.

"It looks like you'd be easy too," Willow concluded after a moment. "I can work with that."

She turned to walk away, but stopped when she saw Tara's towel available, and easily accessible. With another grin, Willow grabbed the towel, turned back to face Tara and held the towel just out of her reach. "You wanna play fair now?" Willow looked at Tara with such intensity Tara thought she might faint.

Tara tried to consider her options, but she was so flustered. She decided to be honest. "Willow, let's think this through. What are my choices here? I come out with or without a towel – that is up to you – or you come in and frankly, even if that were an option, it's a little early in our relationship. Don't you think?"

Willow felt like her heart stopped. She wondered if Tara was still playing with her or not. She took a tentative step forward closer to the girl behind the curtain. "I don't know what to say." She took another step so she could whisper, "Do I have to decide right now?"

"Well," Tara began again, "I think I'm actually done with my shower if that makes a difference to you." Tara continued with her line of reasoning, "And if it does, and you don't want to see pruney Tara, the next question is are you ready for naked, streaky Tara? Because that's what you'd get plus, possibly additional revenge for making me run down the hall."

"Well, when you put it that way." Willow slipped off her shoes and started to get undressed. Tara looked on in horror. "Just kidding, here ya go." Willow handed over the towel but didn't move away. "You're right. Too soon." Willow turned to leave Tara alone and headed out the door. Tara watched her leave. Willow waved her hand over her head and just as she exited the bathroom, Tara heard her say, "Rain check?"

She is a vixen. Tara sat down on the shelf in the shower stall. After a few moments, she took a breath, set her towel down and turned back on the water. Her hair was fine, but the rest of her was not. She needed a cold shower.

Tara completed her quick rinse in silence and proceeded to get dressed in her p-day clothes. Just as she finished, a redhead poked her head back in the door of the bathrooms. "You still didn't answer my question."

"Can we do footloose next, 'cause I'm feeling the need for Loggins time with you."

"Loggins?" Tara was still baffled and had no idea what Willow was talking about.

"You know, Kenny Loggins." Willow started playing her imaginary guitar and sang out the musical intro in her best guitar twang. When Tara still seemed confused, Willow looked at her in amazement. "How could you possibly not know Footloose and be able to sing all the words to the Flashdance song? Footloose is like one of the only movies we could see this year."

When Tara started blushing Willow realized something even more telling. She gasped. "You saw Flashdance?" The question betrayed Willow's envy and shock. "You saw Flashdance." She repeated as if confirming it to herself. "Did you like it? Was it good? Was it bad? Oh my gosh! What did you think? You have to tell me everything you can, I really wanted to see that movie, but since it was rated R, well you know. How did you get to go?"

Tara was still blushing when Willow finally stopped the barrage of questions she'd thrown at her. "I probably shouldn't talk about it. You know how they say that some images you can't get out of your head once you've seen them. Well it's true." Tara's mind flashed back to the images she'd had just that morning of the redhead in the middle the Flashdance dance routine. She shook her head a little to try and clear the image.

"Oh Tara I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…hold on…you were singing the song in the shower." Willow pursed her lips and put her hand on her hip. "You're not telling me something Tara Maclay."

Tara felt the blush previously confined to her cheeks follow a southerly path down her neck and chest. She was definitely showing telling signs to Willow and she had no control. Willow watched in amazement as the girl practically exploded in embarrassment. "Honey, you're the color of my hair, are you okay?"

Tara folder her arms across her chest and looked down. She couldn't look at Willow. "Um, I'm gonna check in with the "C" sisters, maybe we can talk later, okay?"

"Sure, whatever you need." Willow was a little puzzled and hurt, but didn't want to pressure the girl. "I'll see ya later." Willow turned slowly and walked the few feet back to her open dorm room where Kitchen and Smith had remained. She'd never seen Tara close up like that. She wanted to cry. She knew there was an avalanche of self-loathing just under the surface, and she needed to get some control before she let on to Kitchen and Smith. They just wouldn't understand. The internal onslaught began immediately. You just have to talk don't you.

Willow came into the room and made a mental note of the scene. Both girls were sitting on their beds working on their journals. Willow desperately wanted some alone time. She'd already been out to the "bathroom" two times, so that was not an option. She was fighting back tears and didn't want to have to explain any redness or sniffling. She could tell she'd done something to upset Tara and she needed to figure it out. Just the idea of hurting her was crushing her to the core. Writing a journal entry would make it all rise to the surface and that wasn't an option either. Plus she couldn't put her real thoughts in the journal.

Okay, clearly that didn't work. She grabbed her books and went to her bed as well, sat down and pretended to read.

Suck it up Sister! An image of Sister Smith with using a vacuum cleaner passed through her mind. Ha. Okay. That was worth the imagery. I can do this. Sister Dust Bunny Buster. My companion. She held her head still and lifted her eyes just enough to quickly look at the Sister concentrating on her book. How does she get her hair so big? I'll have to watch her sometime. There really ought to be a rule: your hair cannot obstruct low flying aircraft.

Willow looked across the room at Sister Kitchen. She's quite lovely. She's not the usual Molly Mormon, with her brown hair and thin face, but she does have that calming feel about her. How appropriate that her name is Kitchen. There's always comfort in the Kitchen. She thought back to a few of the times Sister Kitchen had come to her rescue lately.

Willow's eyes flashed with the idea. Just write. You don't have to mail it if it's bad. She opened her notepaper and grabbed a pen.

Dear Amy,
Sorry I don't have stationary, but this is what you're going to get until I get over my issues with Hallmark, Capitalism, and marketing to guilt. Plus, you know me, how could I possibly have enough stationary to cover all my moods? I'd need a bigger suitcase just to haul it around with me.

Okay, I'm just going to get this out right up front. This mission thing, it's really hard. This is the first p-day and all I want to do is go outside and run around in the rain and play in the mud. It's reduced me to a blithering idiot at times. I want to go play on some swings or maybe spin around on a merry-go-round until I throw up. I know, bad imagery, but I just would love to be ALONE.

Well, okay, that's not actually true. There's someone here I actually wouldn't mind spending time with. Naturally, she's not my companion. She's someone else's companion, well I guess that's kind of obvious, although she could be a teacher I guess, but she's not. Gosh, rambling much?

I have two companions, Smith and Kitchen. Smith Shimai (that's the name for Sister in Japanese) has the big blonde hair thing like Deb, the Bishop's daughter – you know the rebellious one that likes to dress up in the black outfits like Madonna. Kitchen Shimai kind of reminds me a little bit of a cross between Michelle's mom and Sister Jenkins. You know kind, elegant, but not so stuffy that she's still fun. She's really sweet.

We've got some great Chorro (Elders) in our district. One of the Elders is either smart or just pompous, I can't tell. He's a full on first finger to the knuckle nose picker though, so it kind of ruins the smart thing…He's the one that was talking to us about how Japanese is an ~~aglutative~~ ~~aglunative~~ agglutinative (that's it-I had to look it up) language. That means that words are not really changed so much, as build up – glued together. So like we have words for 'I' and 'we,' they have one word for I and add an ending to it to make it we. It makes everything really…long…It's interesting; it's like a puzzle.

Elder Jones, the teacher, is kind of cute I guess. You probably wouldn't like him, he's not all rugged like Patrick Swayze or anything; he's more Kevin Bacony with brown hair. But then everyone here is clean-shaven and all perfect.

Except me. I don't feel perfect. I am terribly flawed. I don't feel worthy at all. I guess I just have this image of what I think a sister missionary should be, and most of the time I'm so not it. I'm supposed to be an example for others, yet I'm so weak. It's a struggle.

I'm surprised that in this closed environment how easy it is to get sidetracked. Just today, I was thinking about Footloose. It's p-day, I wanted to "cut loose" a little you know, get my dance on. Apparently, I'm not the only one. I caught my sister friend in the shower doing the same thing.

I remember when we used to sing into our microphone thumbs. I thought I found someone to do that with today. I'm pretty sure she thinks I was making fun of her.

Okay, I was sort of teasing with her. I was just letting off some steam, getting a rise out of her, but I think I really made her uncomfortable and now I just feel so bad. Why did I do that? We used to do that all the time and it wasn't a problem. I don't get it.

Yes, you do, it's because you were flirting with her and you backed her in a corner. No, she was okay until you went back…And then you called her out on the Flashdance.

That's when she folded her arms. Okay, what? What? What did she say? Images stay with you. Gosh, I wonder what images would affect her that much.

The only images that bother me like that are Willow stopped mid thought. She knew exactly what images made her blush like that and it was never what she saw, but what she imagined. An image of Tara and the orange M&M suddenly flitted through her mind. Oh God, poor Tara.

Okay, well even with you being far away, you helped me figure out what happened there, so thank you. We've got a big day today, laundry and lounging. We were gonna go to the mall or to the Temple, but it's raining and well, that is lay around and do nothing weather, ya know.

Anyway, write when you can.
Love and hugs,

Willow
(Rosenberg Shimai – that still sounds weird to me…but I kinda like it.)

Willow went back to her desk and found an envelope and stamps she'd tucked away in the drawer. She got out her address book to prepare it. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed something round she previously hadn't noticed before. It was sitting on the top of her journal snuggled in on top the pages. She picked it up. In just a moment, she had it unwrapped. Lifesavers and a note:

"P" that looks familiar. She thumbed through her textbook. She just happened to see the first character on the last page before the appendix: "I."
On the page across from the kanji characters, she saw the block letters.
mL,4 shi with the little tan tans is Ji ya ke tsu to – okaaaaay whatever that is…

She thumbed back to her hiragana page and started transcribing the letters. Willow rewrote the sentence in her notebook and took out her colored pens just in case.

Gqhy; o a na ta no
mL,4 Ji ya ke tsu to
GxTecKgpGsTa o shi yo u su ru ko to o ki yo ka
cKyOjqJåpe su ru ta me ni a ri ga to u
P; lifesaver øqK watakushi no" lifesaver" de a ru

After she got the letters done, she got her dictionary ready. Now put it together. Watakushi o anata no Jiyaketsuto o shiyou suru koto kiyoka suru tame ni arigato- watakushi no "lifesaver" de…oh dearu – that must be like desu

P = I
anata = you
jyaket OH jacket = she's talking about MY jacket
shiyo- suru = something do…use
koto = thing
kiyoka suru = something do…Nothing oh, Kyoka – let permit allow
tame ni = in order to
arigato = thank you.

= (I) thank you in order to let use your jacket. Oh!
Thank you for letting me use your jacket. You are my "lifesaver."

Willow was so touched; her eyes welled up. She remembered the day clearly. Tara was so self-conscious about that stain, the little red stain on her chest.

Willow sighed as she considered her own personal color analogy. She wondered if she was indeed on Tara's heart.

"Guys?" Willow interrupted the silence of the dorm room. "I really need to thank Maclay Shimai. Do you want to keep an eye out or come with me to visit with the other Shimai if they are there?

Kitchen considered for a moment. "Well it's after 9:00, they probably have gone to do their errands or whatever. Why don't you run down and check. If they are there, great. If not, then we should get ready and maybe we could get started on our laundry? Then we can have it done by lunch. Hopefully you can run into her, if not, maybe they could come by our place tonight. We never have them over. How does that sound to you guys?"

"That sounds great. I'll be right back." Willow didn't have a clue what she was going to say, but a simple thank you was not all she needed to say.

She was nervous as she headed down the hall. When she arrived at the Sister's door, she knocked softly. After a few moments, she knocked a little louder. She had mixed emotions. She didn't want to babble herself into a deeper hole, but she also felt a sense of urgency to resolve the issue hanging between them. Maybe it was just her issue, but it still was hanging. She realized Sister Kitchen was right and headed back for her own room to get her laundry together.

She absentmindedly began humming the song she'd sung to Tara just a few nights before. The notes hung in her mind, she imagined a little rowboat, a bag of laundry, her, Tara and strangely, Big Bird and Barkley, were doing all the rowing. She changed her mental picture. Bigger boat, Big Bird and Barkley were there but it was a gondola and Big Bird was steering. Willow had some grapes. She was feeding Tara who now wore a toga. Yes, dreaming of Tara was becoming a day and nighttime hobby. Make a note; buy a little boat for Tara. Although grapes would be more fun.

Willow had a smile on her face when she came back in the dorm room. The girls had started getting ready.

"Okay, then we are gonna have some fun at the laundry room. Okay? Bring your choice of microphone if you want or we can thumb it, but I'm gonna get my groove on it's time to let loose a little."

Kitchen looked at her sideways, suddenly realized what Willow had in mind and set her hairbrush on the bed. "Okay, but only if it's just us, and we can't be too loud." She looked at Smith to see if she'd caught on. But Smith seemed pre-occupied. Something was clearly troubling the girl, but now wasn't the time.

Sister Kitchen made a note to ask her about it when they were alone to see if there was something bothering her. She could guess, but it's better to get the facts first before jumping to any conclusions.

Some days seem to last forever: when you're far away from home, its worse. There are moments, though, when time seems to stand still, the world falls away, and all that matters is the moment and you pray it will last forever.

Laundry turned out to be less eventful than Willow had hoped. Something was clearly up with Sister Smith. Although Kitchen Shimai had brought her hairbrush and Willow her trusty microphone-thumb for the proposed sing-a-long, there were way too many Elders in the laundry room by the time they got there for the girls to do any musical numbers. The other Sisters were nowhere to be found for any engaging chitchat, and it was nearly time for lunch; P-day would be officially over.

Willow was starting to feel very alone in Utah. She had not received anything from anyone, but she hardly expected to. She wasn't much for writing letters, although she had kind of hoped that Amy would have written by now. She tried not to get her hopes up as they made their way to the front of the MTC. As they walked, she reflected on some of the people she'd left behind so she could come and serve.

After a quick stop at the mailboxes, the girls headed back toward the cafeteria. Kitchen and Smith both had letters. They saw a few Elders from the other district and smiled casually. Willow noticed some of them had gotten things too. One doesn't pry about other people's news from home. At this point, I'd settle for a dramatic reading from Soap Opera Digest; that would be a welcome diversion even if they weren't real people…although Aunt Melody might disagree. She loves her soaps. That last thought put a pained smile on Willow's face.

She had a lot of fun with her Aunt Melody, and she often babysat her niece, Carol. They watched all the best stuff together, then after Carol went to bed, Willow settled in to watch her favorite show, M*A*S*H. The series had recently ended and she was sad that it wasn't on anymore, but at least she wasn't missing it. TV was just one thing a missionary gives up during their service.

Okay great moments on M*A*S*H. Willow tried thinking about one of her favorite episodes, but everything reminded her of her current situation. She got lost in her thoughts. They read Corporal O'Reilly's letters over the loud speaker. All the soldiers loved hearing news from Radar's Aunt about his family and the happenings of the small town in Iowa. It was a reminder for them of the simple life and the things for which they were fighting.

Maybe they could do a branch reading of the more poignant letters – like show and tell – only not. I should have sent myself a letter so I wouldn't look so pathetic. Willow thought of Radar, his sweet little round face, circular glasses and his trademark ESP. She suddenly wished she had thought to bring her stuffed dog along with her too.

On the way down the hall near the cafeteria, Willow and the others heard singing. Willow and Kitchen poked their heads through one of the doors to a meeting area and saw a few missionaries around a piano. She recognized Elder Hamm, who was playing, his companion, and several others were singing songs from a church musical. Willow looked at her watch; they still had some time. Kitchen nodded toward some chairs at the back of the room. Willow understood and quietly went to sit and observe. Smith followed in behind.

When the group finished singing the theme song for this particular musical, "Saturday's Warrior," some of the elders she didn't recognize left. The now smaller group began singing another selection. Willow realized someone had actually brought all the sheet music with them. She thought this was a perfect item to bring since the show was about a missionary and their time of service, plus the songs were uplifting.

As they sang, Willow bent her head in reverence and let the words and feelings wash over her. She felt at peace, strong and happy all at once for the first time really since being at the Training Center. She loved music. It calmed her and made her feel safe. It gave her courage and hope.

Elder Hamm played the intro to the next song. She knew this one well. She'd seen the musical performed live right after she'd joined The Church and when she heard it the first time, it touched her deeply. Now, it felt more personal. She felt an ache in her soul. She hadn't realized there were others in the room sitting behind the piano until a single female voice started singing the melody.

Willow looked up and she saw it was Sister Conley. She was now standing near the piano. Her voice was rich and melodious. It was haunting. Willow looked on in awe.

Who am I, where am I going?
Here I sit all alone not knowing why.
Brace me up, I'm so discouraged.
Help, I think I'm gonna die.

For the second verse, another voice joined with Conley. This voice Willow recognized immediately. Her heart pulsed and a flush of heat ran through her. She watched Tara join Conley at the piano.

How it hurts to be a no one
How I wish I was someone really loved.
Brace me up, I'm such a failure.
Heaven, help me, up above.

As Tara sang the second line, their eyes met. Willow struggled to hold back a tear that threatened to leak out onto her face. This was the most amazing moment of her life.

A third voice joined the others for the next stanza. They sang in the most beautiful three-part harmony Willow thought she'd ever heard.

Isn't there someone with a hand to spare?
Who can share what they have for my hunger?
Isn't there a someone who will take me as I am
And brace me up, not put me down.
Make me feel like I'm as good as another!

Doubts and fears keep comin' faster,
Boy I'm headed for disaster, that's for sure.
Brace me up, I'm going under.
Help, somebody, find a cure.

Willow let the tear fall. She felt a warm hand on hers and looked over to see Sister Kitchen was having the same reaction that she was. Willow squeezed her hand in appreciation and shared communion. They were comrades. Not comrades in arms…comrades with books.

Willow smiled over at Sister Kitchen and wiped away the tear that had stalled on her face above her lip. Two more were threatening to run as well, so Willow blinked and wiped them away with her free hand. She took a deep breath jutting out her lower jaw.

Willow looked over at Sister Smith who seemed to be looking intently at her fingernail. Smith must have sensed Willow looking over at her; she gave her a cursory glance. She looked down and saw Kitchen and Willow's joined hands. She seemed puzzled for a moment then seemed to dismiss her thought. She returned her gaze to her fingernail for a moment before looking down at her boot.

"Ok that's it, we'd better get going," Stephen's Choro announced. "My stomach's growling and this little soldier needs a manly sized meal."

Willow shot out of her reverie. She wasn't hungry; the emotions of the moment seemed to take all her thoughts away – including the food ones. She joined the other sisters in their usual formation heading toward the dining hall.

P-day was officially over. It would be seven more days before they had another one. Ha! Willow distracted herself unexpectedly. Her thoughts of M*A*S*H and the Elder's comment had her on a mental roll. Next week, we definitely have to go to the mall – not shore leave, store leave. And in just a few days, the new recruits were coming in. I'll be an MTC veteran and earn my first missionary-style chevron, a blue dot.

The last thought almost escaped her throat with a sigh. Willow looked back to see the blonde trailing a few paces behind them. She gave Willow a shy smile and Willow blinked slowly taking in the beauty she was looking at.

Willow caught herself on a large mushy wall of flesh. She was embarrassed to have run right into Sister Smith, but grateful she didn't actually fall over. Kitchen Shimai shot her an amused look and Willow wondered if Kitchen realized where Willow had been looking before her collision.

Willow tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced around her. The shy look on the blonde was replaced by a half grin. Oh gosh, she saw and she knows.

Willow wanted to crawl under a rock and hide – preferably with camouflage and blackened face paint in the dark – but they had just arrived at the cafeteria. She still wasn't hungry and Smith was giving her some serious vibes now. She really didn't know what to think about it; but there wasn't' much she could do about it now.

There wasn't anywhere to sit together. The girls spotted two different tables next to each other. Willow held back behind the others in surveillance watching the players to see where they would go. She wanted to be in position to look at Tara if she sat facing in, or back to back if she took the inside spot. She noticed Tara lagged behind a little bit too. For Willow, everyone seemed to be in slow motion. Kitchen seemed to be the only one who didn't care where she ended up. She selected a seat at the further table facing in. Meanwhile, Smith doddled at the drink dispenser. Willow had her eyes on Conley. She was the key figure in her tactical plan. She guessed that Tara would sit next to her if given the choice. Conley had to make her move before Smith made her decision. But Colson was a variable too.

As Willow stood considering her options, she failed to notice Tara come from behind her.

"You know," Tara started quietly almost in Willow's ear. She was startled by Willow's sudden jolt and embarrassed for her friend when Willow nearly spilled her tray in surprise.

"Oh Gosh, I'm so sorry," Tara started again. "I didn't mean…" She stepped forward and turned to face her.

"No, its okay, I guess I'm just a little unnerved today." Willow countered quietly.

"Well you did just have a close encounter of the Smith kind." Tara smiled at Willow with so much affection Willow nearly swooned.

"That's true, but it's not like I made molds of her with my potatoes or built a giant size Smith in my dorm room out of a trashcan or something." Willow mirrored Tara's gaze.

Willow took a deep breath and tried not to look at the sensuous lips. "Tara," the word came out almost as a whisper, "I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. And thank you for the gift. That was really sweet." Willow took another breath and did her best just to focus on the blue eyes in front of her. From the corner of her eye she saw that Smith had taken a seat facing Kitchen and Conley and Colson were also sitting across from one another, but Colson had taken the inside position. "I guess we should join the troops." Willow nodded toward their companions and started to walk toward the tables. Tara walked along side her matching her step for step

"Oh, that. I had a little help." Tara responded looking at the seating options before her. She chose to walk down the center and Willow went with her. "So you ready to teach me more color coding after culture class and devotional tonight?" Willow could have sworn she saw a spark of anticipation in Tara's eyes, but she didn't want to jump the gun.

"Absolutely!" Willow bounced a little on her toes as they walked. "I love giving you private lessons." A seductive grin appeared on the redhead's face and the blush was back on Tara's. "See you around nine?" She gave her a playful bump with her shoulder.

Willow set her tray down and was about to swing her leg in to sit next to Sister Smith. She glanced over at the Sister's poofy blonde hair. "Oh and Sister Maclay," she emphasized her title, "make sure that you bring your notebook and your Scriptures and a pen, there could be diagrams this time." She said it loud enough to ensure Sister Smith had heard the request.

Tara recognized the change in Willow immediately and responded in a similarly respectful tone. "Okay, Sister Rosenberg, but you need to bring your sanbika too. You need to practice your hiragana." She sensed she'd had another conflict with Sister Smith. Why would she sit by her then? Tara settled in next to Sister Colson, and looked across to Sister Conley. She realized immediately what Willow had done.

Tara considered her own seat selection for a moment. She looked across to Sister Conley. She usually chose to sit next to her; it was part of their routine now. But when given the choice, she wanted to be near Willow. It was very confusing. She often felt drawn to the girl. Tara still looking over at Conley started thinking of Willow. She is so funny, and smart, and cute and…oh! Don't Go There Tara.

Tara looked down at her lunch tray. Her breath caught when she took a really good look at her meal. She just sat there staring at the items. It looked like someone had dropped Christmas on her tray. Even the bacon bits in her spinach salad looked redder than they should. Oh! My! Gosh! Captain Contagious strikes again.

Tara was still reeling from her recent "Willow color-coded correlation to her food" discovery. She wondered: was she unconsciously adopting Willow's system and attaching meaning and feelings to the mundane? She took a deep breath trying to dismiss the notion. She felt the girl behind her. Even at this proximity, she sensed a connection to her. It was as if she could feel the warmth course through her. She felt at peace, which unnerved her a little.

Willow was having a similar experience. Even sitting back-to-back as they were, she was aware of Tara. It wasn't something one tried to explain or analyze; she just enjoyed the nearness. There was such affection between them it was almost manifest as a physical connection. They were drawn together. Willow wondered if this was like magic.

Both Willow and Tara knew lunch would be over way too soon. They probably would not get to walk over to the next class together. As one would expect, Conley Shimai was an amazingly fast eater. Colson and Maclay didn't slow them down with any needless chitchat during their meals, so those three were almost always finished before Willow's group. Smith Shimai often took so long eating that they left the dining area well after the other sisters. Willow was learning that "early" for Smith Shimai was to arrive a few minutes after a meeting started.

As far as sitting together during their classes, that was up to chance. For all the various meetings they attended there were usually enough seats, except no one wanted to be in the first few rows. Missionaries had to get there fairly early if they wanted to sit in the middle or back row chairs. They couldn't really hold seats while the room was filling, so odds were by the time both sets of sisters made it to the room there would not be six seats together.

Willow felt something behind her change as Tara and the others prepared to leave. Her heart sank a little. She glanced over to Smith's tray, and sure enough, they would be at least another five minutes before Smith would be ready to go.

As Conley and Colson picked up their trays, Tara turned back to the Willow's table. Thankfully, Smith remained focused on her food.

Tara spoke softly as if to the air, "Next stop: Culture Class." She smiled at Willow conveying without words what she too felt, a little sorrow, but anticipation for the evening together. I'll see you tonight.

As Willow smiled back, she unconsciously winked at Tara, which brought some color to Tara's cheeks. She dipped her head for a moment, but regained her confidence quickly. As she walked past her on the way out, Tara casually dragged her fingertips across Willows shoulders. Willow maintained her composure hoping that the goose bumps that had suddenly appeared on her arms were hidden from the others. She also prayed the blush that started working its way up to her cheeks was not noticeable – especially to Smith.

Willow tried to redirect her focus back to her companions who had started chatting again, but Smith's chatter about the hangnail on her thumb was making her want to scream. Just eat already!

After Smith finally finished eating, Willow, and the other Sisters headed over to one of the larger conference rooms to meet with all the missionaries currently learning Japanese. As she had guessed, there were no places available for them to sit with anyone from her group. They were stuck in the front row. That's just great! Willow hated the front row, she couldn't Tara watch from there.

There were at least one hundred missionaries called to Japan currently residing at the MTC. The only appreciable differences between them were the level of their Japanese abilities and the number of blue dots adorning their nametags. For each week at the MTC, the Elder or Sister earned a dot. When they had eight, ready or not, they would be flown to their destinations.

Culture class was an opportunity to get them all together to discuss social norms and mores, taboos, and common mistakes missionaries might make going into a foreign land. Most people were already aware of some cultural variation, but it's the little things that people do and say that can be the most offensive.

Tara sat quietly musing about her experiences thus far in the MTC and a quirky redhead she was meeting later that night. She wondered what other hidden talents Willow would show her tonight. The color thing was amazing, but she could tell Willow had more to share. She wondered how many colors would end up in Willow's notebook by the end of the day.

Do not wear shoes indoors
Do not leave ohashi (chopsticks) poked into rice = death
Okay to pick up a bowl of soup – use 2 hands
Don't eat with your fingers
Eat anything they put in front of you
Women need to Use honorifics ** find out what that means **
Do not use command form
Shower before you bathe ??
When Accepting gifts, take the item with 2 hands
Kneel – do not sit
Don't put hands in your pockets *Dishonesty*
Maintain personal boundaries – do not touch, hug unless invited
Space is an issue – beds made daily L
Bow often
Bow correctly
Bow last

This is not going to be easy. Tara shook her head a little trying to concentrate on the presentation.

The slide show was starting and Tara was considering how much she had to learn about the culture and her role as a missionary there in Japan. Returned missionaries had compiled these pictures for them so they could feel the flavor of the country. The first few slides were in park settings. Japan was exquisite. The colors were vibrant. Each of the pictures presented a culture rich in architecture, appreciation for beauty, order, and reverence for their ancestors.

The next group of slides was more specific to the work. Photos of ward buildings, members, and newly baptized converts dressed in white. There were shots of Missionary gatherings, church events, and Japanese holiday celebrations with missionaries occasionally dressed in traditional Japanese clothing or performing traditional activities associated with that holiday.

When the pictures of the missionary housing came up on the large screen, Tara cringed. She saw the elders sitting at the tiniest table eating a meal. Their legs were bent backward as they knelt, their tops of their feet lay flat on the floor; and it looked as though the soles of the feet were a pillow for their behinds. The next shot was a kitchen smaller than the size of her closet. And every appliance looked like it was built in the forties.

Willow was having a similar reaction in the front row. But her neck was aching from the proximity to the large screen. When photos of the missionaries and members came up, she started to notice that the Elders all stuck out like sore thumbs. They were tall, white, and their badges set them apart from all the others. Furthermore, the number of Shimai in these photos were few and far between, and red hair – totally non-existent.

After Culture Class, the missionaries split up into smaller district groups for their Devotionals. Willow was a little amused when the topic for her group was "The Armor of God." She had been considering her recent mindset on M*A*S*H and missionary service as it correlated to a soldier's life – without the blood and gore, of course. And the correlation to the armor with the tenants of their faith was inspiring. She couldn't wait the share her thoughts with Tara.

On the other side of the building in Tara's district, they were discussing how to recognize truth. Tara's mind raced back to the words for the songs they had been singing earlier that day, "Line up on Line," and the feelings of peace that would accompany those thoughts if they were right. She was thumbing through her unmarked scriptures looking for a passage she couldn't find. I need Willow. Immediately upon the completion of that thought, a feeling of warmth and love overwhelmed her.

After a quick dinner, the Sisters went to their next classes. Willow was mesmerized in her devotional as the speaker explained how to recognize truth. She was so caught up in the discussion she failed to take any notes. She definitely needed to compare her thoughts with Tara. She was really looking forward to later.

In Tara's class, they were learning how to protect themselves against the things that would deter them from their path. The teacher told an amusing story about a king and his preparations for war. The group was laughing so hard she only heard half of what was said. It was the visualization of the king building up his "armory" by taking the severed arms of his enemies and putting them in his weapons storage area. The group was still laughing long after the class ended. She hoped she could recap it all well enough for Willow.

Five after nine, Willow and Tara were each in their own rooms. As if synchronized, they grabbed their bathroom kits and headed out into the hall on the way for their ritual teeth brushings and preparations for bed. After closing their doors, they both turned and looked down the hall toward the other's door. Willow's infectious smile was mirrored on Tara's face as they caught each other looking down the hall. It was as if the moment was frozen in time.

Tara finally looked down as if embarrassed by her sudden display of emotion. She clutched her kit and proceeded toward her goal, although at the moment she honestly couldn't say what that was. She was walking directly in a line toward Willow. She was under her spell, or at least that's what she thought it would feel like if she believed in such a thing.

Willow and Tara met in the middle at the entrance to the bathrooms and completed their pre-bed activities in relative silence, neither one wanting to break the mood of the earlier moment. Something about reliving the initial sight of the other after a long day was remarkable.

Willow motioned back with her thumb toward her own room and Tara nodded in understanding. They quietly parted. A few moments later they were walking back down the hall with books in hand.

Willow sat down next to Tara on the couch. In just a few seconds she started shifting in her seat. She rolled her head around trying to ease the stiffness that had settled in. Tara recognized the motion and realized immediately the source of her discomfort.

"Front row huh?" Tara moved over closer toward the end of the couch past where the table was. "Here, let me help you." She signaled with her hand that she wanted Willow right in front of her.

"What? No that's okay. It's just a little kink." Willow was still wiggling around trying to get the crick out. She was making tiny crackling noises as her bones tried to align with her movements.

"There's not such thing as a little kink." Tara rejected Willow's argument. "Now sit down here and let me fix it." Tara commanded.

Willow, amused by the tone in Tara's voice, replied, "Is that and order, Captain?"

Tara looked at Willow. Suddenly without warning Tara burst out laughing. The more she tried to control it, the harder she laughed. She kept thinking of the talk – the king with his severed arms in his armory. She considered telling the story, but realized she just wouldn't do it justice. She called me Captain. She's the Captain – Captain Contagious or Captain Distraction.

After she regained some decorum, Tara said, "I'm no Captain, my dear, I'm a General. Remember? General States the Obvious, or did I just have that conversation in my head?" Willow just looked at Tara blankly.

Tara, after seeing Willow's expression, seemed to have confused herself. She pursed her lips and shifted her glance trying to remember. When Willow saw Tara furrow her brow in concentration, she was amused.

"Okay, now I don't even know where to start with that." Willow smirked a little. "Number One, what on earth is so funny? Number two, when did you get a promotion, or enlist, or whatever? Number three, when did you start not remember our conversations?"

Tara was a caught off guard by the barrage of questions and mumbled a little as she gathered her thoughts, "Since I hooked up with you, Captain Contagious."

She paused again before proceeding in full voice but Willow jumped in a head of her.

"Just hold on a minute," Willow's mind was racing, "You have a nickname for me now?"

Tara's mouth hung open for a moment as the redhead studied her. "And you out rank me? Well that's just wrong on so many levels." In mock disgust, Willow got up and repositioned herself in front of Tara. She'd earned this now.

Willow continued with her playful chastising, "I can't believe you didn't make us both Captains. You know, like Hunnicut and Hawkeye or Majors like Hotlips and Burns. I'm simply aghast."

Tara absentmindedly started working on Willow's kink. "Well actually, you have many names, and Captain was the rank that sounded the best with most of them. Although…" Tara trailed off as she concentrated on a spot on Willow's neck where she'd found a knot. Willow groaned a little at the pressure.

Willow's moan tapped something in Tara's sub-consciousness. I'm touching Willow.

Tara suddenly felt, really felt, the skin against her fingertips and thumbs as she massaged the tense muscles. It was soft like silk. Tara moved her hands up to the base of Willow's hairline relaxing with the warmth. Willow's hair was fine and as soft as anything she'd ever felt. She couldn't help but move her hands higher feeling the red locks falling lazily between her fingers.

She leaned down and whispered in Willow's ear, "My little soldier." Tara replicated Major Burn's inflection from the memorable moment in the show.

Willow had lost herself in Tara's touch. She marveled at the feel of Tara Hands. She felt as if she might fall asleep, but just for a moment. The whispered words were warm and inviting and the Burn's/Hotlips reference not lost on her. She remembered the episode and Major Burns had such affection for Margaret "Hotlips" Hullahan. She may only be a captain, but Tara's meaning was major. She knew it now with certainty. Tara felt it too, the power of their connection.

Tara's hands had moved back down to work out the tension in Willow's shoulders. She felt Tara's fingers just below her clavicle and thumbs rhythmically kneading on the pressure points behind her shoulder blades. All Willow could think of was the feel of Tara's fingers caressing her, pressing down, feeling her, loving her. She was overwhelmed with the sensations. She wanted to cry she felt so safe, warm and happy.

Unfortunately, Willow knew she wasn't going to feel the sensations for long. She was losing the battle with her eyelids. She scooted down, backing herself into Tara's legs and let her head drop and rest on Tara's thigh. "Your little soldier," she repeated almost inaudibly. She melted into Tara's touch – Tara's burning touch – and closed her eyes.

Tara continued to work on Willow's neck and shoulders. She felt Willow totally relax into her. She knew Willow would fall asleep if she continued, but she didn't want to stop. She loved the feel of the fiery redhead against her skin. She was lost in the passion building inside her as she caressed and kneaded her.

After quite some time, she finally had to stop. She felt like her thumbs were cramping. She looked down at the sleeping Willow. Well, I guess thumb wrestling has been preempted again. Tara leaned back on the couch, careful not to disturb the sleeping beauty. Sleep started to take her as well. Her eyes were heavy and she was falling too. She reached out and gently stoked the flowing mane.

She stroked Willow's hair again and mumbled her reply, "My Willow." In moments they were both sound asleep.

Tara looked at the clock. It was well after midnight. She felt a slight pressure on her legs and looked down at the sleeping figure nestled against her. Willow was still on the floor resting her head on the top of Tara's thigh, but she had turned; Willow's arms were up under her cheek for extra support. Her left elbow was tucked against Tara's inner thigh and her body sandwiched by Tara's lower legs.

Tara blinked and realized she wasn't dreaming. She watched Willow's chest rhythmically fill and retract the air in gentle swells. With each breath, Willow quietly purred, a sound Tara found completely endearing. She was grateful for this moment they had, just the two of them, even though technically one of them was missing it being asleep and everything.

The revelry was short lived as she glanced over at the unopened books on the table. She felt a little guilty that they hadn't studied, and guiltier that she wasn't more ashamed. She wanted this. She wanted to feel all of it, Willow's hands, Willow's hair, Willow's…she closed her eyes feeling all the areas of contact they shared – yes, she wanted all of Willow. But now was not the time or the place. Tara felt a little upset when she realized that here – there was no place – even if Willow wanted her that way.

She chastised herself for her moment of weakness and leaned down to try to waken the girl.

Willow thought she was dreaming. A voice from the darkness was calling to her. The voice was sultry and Willow snuggled into the warmth that supported her. When she gently tightened her grasp, she realized her pillow was person- shaped. As she slowly drifted back to consciousness, she heard the voice again.

She knew that voice. "Mm Tara Bear," Willow squeezed in using her arms and face to hug her pillow in a sensual embrace. Tara tried to ignore the pulse of warmth that shot through her. She reminded herself, not here, not now. And then she tried to remind herself, not ever.

When Tara considered that thought, a wave of sadness overwhelmed her. Her eyes filled with tears and her normally peaceful countenance shattered. Her breath hitched and she fought back her urge to sniff. She knew crying would bring inquisition from the redhead clutching her. She hoped the girl wouldn't notice the change in her demeanor, but she knew from experience, that probably wouldn't be the case.

Willow bolted upright when she sensed the distress in her girl. Looking lovingly into the glistening blue eyes, she silently implored her. She gave no thought to decorum required between to Sister Missionaries.

"Tara, honey, what is it? What's wrong?" Willow gently prodded. Willow ignored the pain in her hip from sleeping in such an odd angle on the floor, got up onto the couch and took a consoling position next to Tara. "What is it, baby."

Tara was still trying desperately not to cry, but the words of affection, the compassion she was feeling from Willow made her feel the need to be as honest as she could be. But she was so afraid of the consequences if Willow didn't understand, or worse, if she did.

Tara took a deep breath and tried to focus on the words she knew had to be said. She needed Willow to hear them, and she needed her to understand the full impact of their meaning. But how do you convey so much want, sorrow, and guilt in simple terms while trying not to cry.

"We can't." It was all Tara managed to say. Her voice cracked and the sniff was unavoidable.

Willow considered the response carefully to this statement. She knew she wasn't going to get many words out of Tara in this conversation until she stopped crying. But the seriousness in Tara's tone confirmed that making light of the words would not be the solution.

She tried to decipher the intended meanings hoping without actually having to be told. She just didn't want to run the risk of misunderstanding. She reached over and grabbed Tara's hand and squeezed ever so gently as she looked deeply into Tara's eyes.

"Okay, you can't talk right now about it just because you're crying, right?" Willow wanted to gauge Tara's objective over the inability to state the message.

"Do you mind our little question game to either give you time to say what you need to or me to figure it out?"

"This is the second time you've said "we" in some specific context. Do you mean us specifically we or we in general we."

Tara looked at Willow. She knew Willow cheated by not asking a yes/no question. "Us," the simple word squeaked out, but she had regained some control.

"Are you upset because of something I did?" Willow knew that was an important question and she would have to read every indicator she could to gage where the conversation would go next.

Tara looked over at the eyes searching hers. She folded her arms across her chest and looked down so she wouldn't have to face her. "Not you."

Willow watched Tara fold into herself and guessed that Tara felt guilty. "Do you think you did something to upset me?" Willow knew this question would be hard, but it was a calculated risk.

Tara heard the question, and thought Willow might blame her, but she didn't sense that from her at the moment. In fact Willow seemed open to whatever Tara wanted. She remained silent not knowing how to answer.

"You haven't hurt me, you haven't upset me, I know I've upset you and made you feel uncomfortable, and I'm sorry. But I don't regret my time with you at all. Are you just upset because of me?" She used the emphasis on the words to convey what she thought Tara was feeling.

"It's not your fault." Tara had regained some composure now that Willow had formed more than two full sentences.

"We're not talking about fault here. We're talking about feelings. And you feel something so much that it made you cry." Willow let go of Tara's hand and moved closer to her so she could cradle Tara's head against her shoulder. "Tara, I would never do anything intentionally to make you feel uncomfortable."

"It's not you, it's me." Tara finally admitted. She relaxed a little after Willow coaxed her into her embrace.

"It's not just you," Willow was a little cryptic in her response, but she knew if Tara were looking at her she would see it too – she hoped Tara would understand.

"How can you say that?" Tara disentangled herself from the comforting arm and looked at Willow. "How do you know?"

After letting the question sit between them for a moment, Willow spoke, "Because I want it too." Willow responded with confidence nodding her head dramatically, but it was a little out of context and that puzzled Tara.

"Willow, did you miss the part about 'we can't'?" Tara knew that the conversation was going into a new place, but she was a little afraid to see what Willow had in store for her.

"Okay, but we can't go outside." Tara realized that she didn't really know if Willow would limit their adventure to the floor let alone inside the building. She did feel better after she stood up, but part of it could have been that Willow still was holding onto her hand, leading her to wherever.

Willow took them down the hall, down the stairs to the first floor. There was no sign of activity and she guided Tara to the vending machines. She heard the familiar hum from the lights. She stood looking at the vending machine for a minute, Willow began, "This is when I knew."

"Knew what?" Tara looked at the food, and then turned to face Willow. She was absolutely stunning in this light. Tara felt another rush of passion flow through her when she saw Willow lick her lips and then gently bite down on the bottom one before she continued. Willow turned and faced her.

She let that sentence marinate a moment then, Willow stepped a foot closer to Tara so she could whisper just in case anyone was around. "I knew…you wanted me too." When Willow saw the reaction she had on Tara she asked the final question. "And that's what's tearing you up, because we can't." It was actually more of a statement not a question.

Tara heard the longing and mirrored want in Willow's words. "Willow, it hurts so much. Why can't it just be okay?"

"I don't know, I don't understand everything; why here, why now?" Willow took one more step inside to Tara's true personal space. "But I'm gonna find out, because it seems too hard and too wrong not to have you. With you, I feel complete."

Tara considered for a moment what Willow was saying. After taking a longtime mulling over her response, Tara finally closed the gap between them and held Willow close. She tried to pay attention to all the feelings she was having and where the guilt and shame were coming from.

"If you're right…" Tara whispered in her ear, she pulled slightly away from Willow so she could see her eyes. Tara brought her hand up to Willow's face. She touched her cheek and let herself enjoy the feeling. She let her thumb move at will. She felt the textures of her skin and let the pad of her thumb slip across Willow's bottom lip. Willow shivered a little, but she wanted more.

"If I'm right…" Willow let her hand follow the same course Tara's had, feeling the soft skin of Tara's face. Instead of moving her thumb across Tara's sensuous lips, Willow moved her hand back to feel the nape of her neck, and the soft texture of her hair.

Tara felt the caress and corresponding invitation when Willow applied a little pressure to pull Tara closer.

Tara tried closing her eyes to see if she could break the spell that seemed to be drawing her in to Willow, but that only seemed to intensify her instincts to devour her on the spot. Tara opened her eyes again and saw a sea of green looking at her with longing and want. She was powerless to stop it now.

Willow saw Tara's breathing had changed; she wrapped her other arm tightly around Tara's waist, stepped closer to her and increased their connection further. She looked for any sign that Tara would resist and when she found none, she closed her eyes to enjoy the new closeness. Willow leaned her forehead against Tara's.

"If I'm right," Willow repeated and while standing foreheads connecting, she opened her eyes so she could look again at the beautiful girl in front of her. "If I'm right, what do we do now?"

"I know what I want to do," Tara looked deeply into the sea green eyes looking back at her. Willow could express so much love and caring just with those eyes. Tara was afraid to break the contact at her forehead, so she held them together. "But if you're right, then everything I've ever been taught is a lie."

Willow considered the statement for a moment. "I don't think that's true." Willow pulled back a bit so she could study the girl's expressions. She wanted to be careful when she reflected her current thoughts. "I think we have to study everything for ourselves to find truth. The only true teacher is that spirit inside that tells us if a thing is right."

Tara looked carefully at Willow so see if this was a joke. "You're saying that my church leaders, my teacher, my family are wrong."

"No, Tara, I'm not. I'm saying that we each only know something is true when we specifically have that confirmed." Willow could tell she might be losing Tara to the forces of guilt and shame and didn't want her to suffer through that, but it had to be addressed. "But we have to ask the right questions."

"I don't know what the question is anymore." Tara was showing signs of fatigue and emotional distress.

"Oh Tara, I'm not going to make you do anything you're not comfortable with. But this is something I think we both need to know before we go out in the big world and preach these ideas." Willow moved her hand from around Tara's waist, trailed her fingers down Tara's arm until she found her hand. She entwined a few fingers in Tara's to ensure there was still a connection there. And mirrored the same with Tara's other hand.

Tara felt the warmth of Willow's touch and it was confusing. How could this be wrong? "It's a test. This is just a test of my will."

Willow looked back at her and decided a little humor was in order. "Your Will? I didn't know we had decided that."

"Oh I know this one, we learned it, and um…it sounds like kitchen…kitsume." Willow giggled. "Well I've been called a lot worse, so that's good." Willow guided Tara gently over toward the wall to sit down. She let go of Tara's hands in case she wasn't comfortable holding her hands.

"Who would call you something worse than that? I can't think of anything bad about you." Tara was concerned about her friend and her past.

Willow wasn't sure what to say. "Tara, being well, what I am, it's not easy. I've been fighting this thing my whole life, the thoughts, the feelings, the loneliness, and the fear. And people are not always kind even when they are well meaning."

"So you've, um, dealt with this issue with others before." Tara dropped her head and hid behind her hair. This is not something she had been forced to address openly. She'd always hidden in shadow waiting for the right man to make her feel – well anything.

"Well one of the nicer things I've been called, well not me specifically, is a vampire." Willow seemed a little amused. She looked down at her hands that she had placed in her lap.

"Wait, a what?" Tara pulled her head back up to look and see if Willow was kidding. "A vampire, that's ridiculous – I've seen you in the sun." Tara chuckled a little. "And you have freckles."

"I know; it's silly." Willow was glad she had turned the conversation a little to a more cheerful subject. She looked back up at Tara. "I am not a vampire. I mean, look at my outfit." Tara looked down to the sweats and t- shirt the girl had on. She imagined Willow had fuzzy slippers too, but she probably would have been too shy to bring them.

"Yeah, I don't see Count Dracula coming to your room late at night, the wind blowing through the open window to catch your beautiful" Tara grabbed the bottom of Willow's T-shirt for dramatic effect, "silky nightgown" she flapped the shirt as if the wind had taken it, "in a sexy breeze." Tara replaced the shirt to its original location, but in doing so, she touched Willow's stomach. The contact brought another shiver of excitement for both of them.

"I don't think that's what they meant." Willow wanted to explain this so Tara would understand. "They think," Willow lowered her voice to a whisper, "gay people recruit others; we mislead and seduce to bring people over to the other side. We are evil people, demons who want nothing more than to bring others to hell with us."

Tara realized that Willow had been through something that she had not. Willow had listened to the remarks and thought they applied to her. She had internalized it, and it hurt her. Willow had actually accepted that she was gay. Tara realized for the first time, that she had dismissed that label all this time, so the cutting barbs hadn't hurt. She felt a little angry for her friend. "That's not fair."

"Who said anything about fair? This is about my feelings. I don't consciously choose who I like, I just know." Willow could tell something had struck a nerve with Tara; she just wasn't sure what it was.

Tara reached across to Willow and touched her hands, entwined their fingers, and looked down at them. "What do you know?" Tara implored with her eyes still looking at their hands. They felt so right together.

Willow ducked her head down below Tara's so she could catch her gaze. "I know" she moved a little closer to her, "that I'm" she looked at Tara's soft and inviting lips that had just parted in anticipation, "falling." She held her position to see what Tara would do, "for you," she said in a whisper.

The energy between them was hot. Tara saw Willow looking up at her and she couldn't help herself. She took a breath. She's falling…for me. Tara leaned forward ever so slowly and met Willow's lips in a soft kiss. I'm falling for you too.

The rush of heat was indescribable. Tara felt like her stomach had fallen out of her body. Everything was tingling. She felt light headed and wanted to fall into Willow. She didn't know she was capable of this much feeling and the passion that bubbled beneath the surface was breathtaking.

Willow was hopeful that the moment between them would never end, but she knew eventually the kiss would deepen or stop. She knew what she wanted, but she wanted to respect the feelings of her Tara. She knew logically that Tara would have to process what had just happened and come to terms with this potentially life changing event.

Willow started to pull away gently, but Tara chased after with her lips. Tara released their clasped hands; she threaded her arms under Willow's and wrapped them around Willow pulling her tightly to her. Willow was a little off balance; she was drawn toward Tara from the position where she sat in front of her. Tara turned a little to position herself. She drew Willow's upper body closer to her locking them in a firm and sensual embrace.

Willow lost all control. She moaned quietly. All the thoughts she had for Tara's feelings of guilt and shame vanished in an instant when she felt Tara's breasts meet her own. She gasped. When her chest heaved with the sudden breath, it increased the contact between them. Her body responded with a heat and desire she had never known. When Tara's hand moved up to touch her hair, Willow moved her hands slowly across the small gap between them feeling Tara's lower ribs as she moved her arms to match the embrace.

Tara felt the gentle caress of Willow's hands moving across her body to hold her and it furthered Tara's resolve. She wanted to devour this girl, this passionate woman. Tara felt awake for the first time in her life. She relaxed her jaw, softened her lips, and heard a moan that she knew had not come from Willow. She moved her head a little to change the pressure against Willow's lips.

Willow was swooning, and awakened with desire. She felt the pressure against her lips change and responded by pulling back, parting her lips and deepened the level of their intimacy. This was no longer a prolonged simple first kiss; this was so much more. She eased her tongue out to touch the lips with the sensitive muscle. The action was welcomed and a companion tongue snuck out to meet hers. Neither ventured further, they just lightly touched feeling and enjoying the sensations of their newfound closeness.

Tara finally broke the kiss. She looked into the eyes glazed in desire. "Am I dreaming?"

Tara repositioned her hands moving them across Willows back and up to her shoulders in a gentle caress. She felt the line of Willow's undergarments under her t-shirt. She was thrown back to reality. "Oh Willow, we can't do this."

Willow knew the second Tara felt the lacey edge of her garments through her t-shirt and stopped the motion that the moment between them was broken. "Well that was a little sooner than I'd hoped." Willow dropped her head and rested her forehead on Tara's shoulder.

"What? No Tara, don't be sorry." Willow jerked her head up and looked at Tara. She was panicking, "Whatever you feel, whatever you say or do, please, please, please don't be sorry."

"Oh, no, honey. Not that kind of sorry. I'm not sorry I kissed you." Tara saw the hurt forming in Willow's eyes and knew she'd made a colossal blunder. "I'm so not sorry I kissed you."

"Oh Gosh no, that was the best kiss, with a capital K that I have ever, ever had." Tara reached out and touched the tear that had fallen down Willow's cheek. "We just have so much to work through, so many things to decide, and I don't want to work this out here, on the floor by the vending machines at" she looked at her watch, "um four o'clock in the morning. When did that happen?"

"Oh, we have to be up in two hours." Willow's mind was racing. "This is so not good. I'm sorry."

"Um, do what?" Tara reached out and stroked a strand of red head then tucked it back behind Willow's ear.

"You lift me up." Willow leaned her cheek into Tara's palm. The movement touched Tara so profoundly she couldn't speak. So she communicated the only way she knew how. She kissed her again. Gone was the tentative touch, Tara wanted nothing more than to display all the affection she could with this kiss. She opened her mouth slightly and found Willow's lower lip. She sucked on it gently before letting go and locking their lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

Willow submitted to Tara's tongue as it entered her mouth. She felt another wave of arousal course through her; if her eyes had been open, she knew they would have rolled back in her head. If she'd been standing up, she would have fallen or possibly passed out. She was high. She realized Tara was right. They needed to stop or something unavoidable would happen and this was not the time or the place.

Willow brought her hand to Tara's face, to signal that they should stop. Somehow, Tara understood the gesture and pulled back.

Willow was the first to be able to speak. "Okay, tomorrow we study, and thumb wrestle, and you tell me what the green M&M means." Tara blushed when Willow finished her list. "We'll figure this out," Willow nodded to coax agreement from Tara.

"But until then, business as usual." Tara gently bobbed her head a few times in agreement. "And PS, I still want you to sing for me."

Tara tried to say something, but a big yawn emerged which made Willow smile, "Until then?"

Tara still could not speak. So she just smiled a half smile that warmed Willow all over. Willow stood up, reached her hand out to help Tara, and quietly whispered in her ear, "Kitsume."

Tara and Willow walked back to the lounge to gather their books and head off to bed. Tara could still feel a pulse of heat that went through her when she recalled Willow's whisper in her ear, "Kitsume." What on earth led Willow to learn the word for vixen? I'll ask her, but not tonight. No more questions. Questions just led to talking and talking leads to more not sleeping. Oh for heaven's sake I'm doing it again, Willow babble. Captain Contagious strikes again. Oh my, she is a vampire, a babble vampire, Count Babble. This has just got to stop. Stop Tara.

Willow looked over at Tara who had been quiet on their walk back to the 2nd floor lounge area. She hoped she hadn't upset Tara; this was a really hard thing for them to work through together. She knew Tara was struggling to reconcile her feelings for her with the values she'd been raised with her whole life. It must be so much harder for her. She's was raised Mormon. The idea of family is more important than anything. Families are forever; it's the closest thing to a campaign slogan The Church has. This must be tearing her apart.

Willow knew Tara's family believed in the traditional Mormon definition of family. As such, she could assume that Tara's parents were devout card carrying Mormons who attended the Temple regularly to perform their Temple ordinances. All their children were baptized when they were old enough to make a decision to accept the teachings of The Church. With that, came all the rights, privileges, and responsibilities associated with active church membership. They followed the commandments and practiced the teachings of The Church leadership, obeyed the rules of the Sabbath, paid their tithes and offerings, attended all The Church functions that they could, and as such were honored members in their Ward and Stake.

For Tara and her siblings, they were raised in this strict and loving environment. Their hopes, dreams, all their aspirations were to continue that legacy. Tara's brothers participated in the scouting programs and the older brothers each served honorable missions when they turned nineteen. It was assumed that the girls in Tara's family who had not found husbands by the time they were twenty-one would go to college or serve a mission or both. All these activities were designed to foster spirituality and community service. The ultimate goal for the young adults was to find a worthy mate, marry for time and all eternity in the Temple ceremony. Children of Temple marriages could be sealed together under the covenant of sacred family union.

Tara was a third generation Mormon. Her grandparents, parents and siblings were bound under that covenant. To go outside of that rigid value structure meant running the risk of disfellowship (short term probationary action taken against members of The Church with sanctions and denial of privileges) or even excommunication (permanent separation and removal from The Church rosters at the advisement of a counsel of Priesthood leaders after a court hearing). There would be alienation from friends and loved ones – even divisions within the family. But being with Willow would put her at risk of separation from God and her family hereafter.

These were the ramifications Tara faced if she chose Willow over The Church teachings. These were the reasons she was so afraid of Willow. Willow knew these were the issues Tara had to consider. Turning away from all you've know and every believed in is something that would require more strength than Willow thought she would have. Her testimony was strong, but her family support system was not that crucial to her ultimate decisions. They would not punish her for her choices by treating her any differently than they did today. They were Jewish, and not devout. They accepted her for all her choices, most likely because they just were too busy to care, but Willow realized that they were fairly liberal when it came to feelings and issues of the heart.

It seemed like the walk to the lounge took forever. The girls arrived and started gathering their books. Willow let a yawn escape and looked over at Tara who seemed equally as tired. "Gosh could we just stay here? It seems so far to go back to our rooms." Willow was almost serious.

Tara looked over at the couch and then looked over at the door down the hall. It did seem really far away. Like one of those bad dreams where the door keeps moving further away the faster you run to get to it. "I'd like to. But we should really go to sleep."

"Oh, I didn't mean not sleep; I meant resume sleep here where we were. I was just being lazy. If I sat down here, I'd just go, ya know?" Willow was getting so tired she didn't even notice her little rhyme.

Tara looked over at Willow in amusement, "You are really adorable, you know that?"

Willow blushed, not knowing what prompted Tara's sudden outburst. "Well it's true."

"Okay, but no talking and no," Tara waved her hand back and forth between them, "you know, we're just staying here until everyone else gets up, then we get up for gym. We're already so busted for being out too late." Tara was the voice of reason, but already she was feeling guilty for the rules infraction.

"Huh?" Willow considered what she'd said for a moment. I must be getting tired, "Oh, I didn't mean that. Jeepers, Tara, one track mind?" She winked at her. "I meant" she stretched the word way out, "who gets to be the pillow?" Willow grinned really big.

Willow happily complied and she practically hopped onto the couch. She let Tara get settled and then she lay down. Willow rested her head on her leg and within minutes they both fell soundly asleep.

Those who were headed to gym in the morning started mulling around outside their rooms around 5:45am. There was enough noise that Willow and Tara were awakened from their sleep. Willow looked up at Tara from her position to see the blue eyes reflecting back toward her. Tara thought Willow had never looked more beautiful.

"Grrrumph," Willow let out her disappointment. "Do I hafta?" She whined at Tara.

Tara smirked at Willow. She was exhausted too, but they had a deal. "Come on, up you go." She wiggled her leg again.

Willow slowly up righted herself. A yawn took possession of her face and she tried to cover it with her elbow. "Okay, I'm up, but I'm not happy about it.

"I never said you had to like it, I just said we had to get up." Tara was amused. Willow's hair was 'all over the place' messy; she had a flat spot on her right side where her head had rested against Tara's leg. There was a little red wrinkly line on her face where Tara's sweats had clumped under her cheek. Tara reached over and ruffled Willow's hair. "Come on, time's a wastin'. You gonna wear that or change?"

"Oh, I'm thinking this. I got my tennies on so I'm good to go, but no exercising for me. I've got to get some study, or journal time or something." Willow looked like she was considering all her options. "What about you?"

"Me too," Tara tried to stand up, fell back, but made it up on the second try. "But I need to brush my teeth. I could study in my room since Conley and Colson don't do the whole gym thing. I can't very well leave them to just sit and read in the gym."

"You're just going back to sleep," Willow pointed a friendly accusing finger at Tara.

Tara looked at Willow in mock offense and placed her fingers flat against her chest, "Who me?" She batted her eyes.

"This is so unfair." Willow pouted and took a little breath that turned into another yawn. "I'll see you later then."

Willow opened the door, and realized Smith and Kitchen were out of the room. She assumed they must be getting dressed so she grabbed her toothbrush and headed off to the bathrooms. When she was done, she came back and gathered her books back up and waited for the girls to return.

Tara quietly entered her dorm room and her companions were still in bed. She slipped under the covers and fell fast asleep. In what seemed like barely a few minutes, Tara heard first Conley's alarm and then Colson's follow shortly thereafter. She groaned under her breath and grabbed her journal. She read over her last entry and sighed. "It's only Sunday and I'm in big trouble. I've met someone who has the potential to knock me off my path. I don't want to waver in my commitments, but the pull I feel to her is so strong. This isn't the way it's supposed to be." Tara finished reading the words she'd written again. Oh, I sooo called that one…

November 13, 1984

Well it's Tuesday and I'm officially in trouble. I just read what I wrote just a few days ago. I thought I'd found someone who might make we waver, well I'd say waver is a gross understatement. I've started questioning everything I've ever known. How can I be that way? Am I so weak in my faith that I can't even make it a few days without faltering?

I feel so disoriented, I haven't had enough sleep today, and there is so much to talk about, so much to pray about, so much to consider. This girl is making me crazy. I've just got to get some perspective, and possibly some good sleep.

But I must say last night was wonderful. I feel alive for the first time in my whole life. I think I get it now; what all the hubbub is about. I just have been too lame to realize all this time what I was.
Her name is Willow. Yes, that's the name of a tree. I'm a tree hugger. She even makes me babble. I don't babble, I stutter once in a while, but I don't babble. How did she do that?

I feel like my faith is being tested, but Willow said that we must each find the truth on our own. Our leaders, my family all the things I believe must be confirmed before I can truly make them my own. I know she's right, but what if I'm the only one. Does that belief mean I alone know the truth?

It doesn't make sense that all those leaders, all those people would be wrong about something because they didn't ask the right question. Does it? I mean maybe it could. Maybe we're not asking the right questions because we're not ready for the answer. But what if the answer is not what I want either.
–
I've met someone who makes my heart sing.
She makes me feel I'm not alone.
No turning back. But I can't move forward,
Unless I find the strength to know.

Did I lose my way? Did I stop believing?
Can I find the truth? How can I know?

I can't lose her, but what's the answer?
I have to find the strength to know.
I'm not that strong. What if I can't make it?
I'm so afraid the way's too hard.

If I lost my way, would I still believe?
If I find truth how will I know?

I don't want to lose her ~ she makes me believe
That I can find the strength to see
It will be hard but when I'm ready I pray
I'll get past the fear, find my way

– Wow – that's actually a poem. I've got it bad.

Tara looked back at her writing and sighed. This girl really does make me do the wacky.

Willow sat staring at her journal. The girls had finally returned from their gym preparations, and as usual, Smith was making them run behind Willow's arrival time comfort zone. She sat on the mat leaning against the wall. She was actually considering doodling on the pages instead of making sentences, but that would be wrong: Wouldn't it?

She thumbed through the pages looking for something to spark her creative juices. This isn't helping. She felt like everything she'd written was all fake. How can I white wash this?

Willow was in crisis. Her brain was on overdrive. It's going to take more than the proverbial happy chat to color this spiritual. I kissed her, I really kissed her. She makes my heart skip a beat, my throat choke up and my hands sweat. I want to sing, and I hate to sing. But for her, I would. I would do anything for her. That's not good, right? I need to have some sort of control don't I? I can't be like a lovesick teenager missing my classes and staying up late all the time. But I so want to.

I kissed her. Willow felt the rush pulse through her as she fell back into the moment. She could almost hear them repeating the words again and again. She recreated the most perfect moment in her mind. "What do you know?" Tara's voice was like a whisper in her mind. And then Willow's own breathy and broken reply: "I know…that I'm…falling…for you."

Willow's daydream was perfect. She could nearly feel the touch of Tara's lips against hers, their soft and careful first kiss, and Tara's insistence and passion filled her mind as she relived the second. Willow's pulse was racing again as she thought of Tara pulling her close, holding her, touching her with such tenderness and desire. How could this be real? How can she care so much about me? She leaned back against the wall and drifted off to sleep.

Willow's books were out in front of her showing she had some good intentions when she came to gym class. Her journal was open and showed no recent entry on the page. Her pen lay loosely in her fingers almost ready to fall out of her hand. It looked as thought she'd stopped in the middle of writing. Her head was lolled to the side her mouth slightly open while she slept.

"Look at her, she's really out." Kitchen Shimai stood in front of Willow just staring at her. Gym class was over. "It's kind of cute, I hate to wake her."

Smith, also staring at the lump in front of them, looked over at Kitchen, "I know but we have to." We've got a lot of things to do today and I can't be hauling around dead weight all day."

Kitchen looked over at Smith and chuckled. "Okay, I'll do it. Things between you are still a little strained. She might come up swinging."

Smith just shook her head in reply. She was right. She wasn't sure what had happened between her and Rosenberg, but at this point none of this matter. She had to choose the right, whatever that was, and right now, that was going to class after waking up a sleepy redhead after gym class. "Okay, that seems like a reasonable solution, good luck with that." Smith backed up a little just in case.

Kitchen carefully knelt down and touched Willow's arm. "Sister Rosenberg?" she said softly. There was not response. "Sister Rosenberg?" She said a little louder with a small amount of shaking of Willow's arm.

"I think it's gonna take more than that, do you want to use her Bible, that's got good thump quality to it." Sister Smith offered.

Sister Kitchen shot Smith a quick reproachful glare. "Sister Rosenberg, it's Kitchen Shimai, you need to wake up?" She said in full voice.

Sister Kitchen said a little more loudly, "Willow, its Sister Kitchen, we need to go; you have to get up?"

"What's in the Kitchen?" Willow was not coherent but Kitchen was making some progress. Kitchen assumed the use of her given name was probably helpful.

Kitchen Shimai made a calculated guess and said, "There's food in the kitchen and you're late for school."

"What!" Willow shot up wide awake and almost knocked Kitchen down in the process. Luckily she caught her balance before she tipped over.

"Told you." Sister Smith started laughing, "Should have just hit her with a book."

Kitchen shot Smith another reproachful glance and turned back to Willow, "You ready to face the day?"

"This was the longest day of my whole life." Willow started in when she and Tara met after classes. "I can't believe we didn't have a moment between us to even say a hello."

Willow was concerned with the lackluster, well if she were honest with herself, non-existent response. "Tara?" Willow whispered, "Are you okay?"

Tara folded her arms across her chest and ducked her head. Willow panicked. She felt like the past few days flashed before her eyes. She didn't know how to make it better for Tara; although it didn't really ever get better, you just accepted things.

"I know this is really hard, but we need to talk about it." Willow felt like she was begging. "I know that sounds trite and everything, but Tara please, don't shut me out. I'll do whatever you want, just please don't shut me out."

Tara looked up at Willow with her head still hung low. She felt like everything she had to say would just be all wrong. She looked over at the table and decided to take a stab at non-controversial issues first. She took a breath to gather her courage. "Okay, yesterday you decided our game plan: study, thumb wrestle, and if I remember correctly you wanted me to tell you about the green M&Ms."

Willow was desperately hanging on every word, and caught the implication of the reply. "Tara, no, we can do whatever we need to. I don't want to decide anything for us. We can do whatever you want." She forced a pained smile trying to hold her courage together. Tara's comment had cut her to the core. I guess there will not be singing tonight either. Willow assumed that Tara had purposefully left that item off the list.

Tara felt Willow's tension, but she just wasn't ready to discuss the implications yet of what had occurred at the vending machine. "I pick study, because I had on my list of things to do to talk to you about what we learned in our devotional, and I really think it applies to us here."

Willow smiled and pointed to her colored pencils, "Good, as long as I'm still your favorite scripture geek, then we can do that." The forced smile was replaced by a real one.

"But I think you and I need to set some ground rules." Tara was taking the lead on this and that was okay with Willow.

"Okay," I'll be happy just to be able to look at her, whatever she wants I will so do. "Am I gonna need to make a list, and if so, do I need a new color?" Willow wiggled a little in her seat happily.

Tara was amused by the enthusiasm. Willow had certainly pierced her heart. There was definitely no turning back from that, "If you want to make a list, sure."

Willow looked at her choices that she had with her; red, blue, green, yellow. She appeared to make some mental checks in her head. She wasn't sure where she was going to be able to keep this list either. She'd have to develop an unbreakable code.

She suddenly seemed to have reached a conclusion. "I'll be right back." Willow sprang out of her seat, and raced toward the door room and opened it with flourish.

Smith and Kitchen both sitting on their beds writing in their journals, looked up in alarm.

Willow couldn't really tell who had said which, "Sorry, new topic, new color." She rattled off excitedly. By then she had made it to her desk and pulled out her box. She looked over her selection picked up a few items, and smiled, "Gotta go."

She was out the door before the girls could say another word. They just looked at each other in amusement.

Kitchen Shimai, was first to speak after the brief interruption. "Are you going to talk to her?"

Smith Shimai looked back, "I'm not sure, I'm really at a loss what to do. I mean, what do we have to do? What's our obligation here?"

"I don't know." I read the handbook and it doesn't say anything. Kitchen Shimai was certainly concerned. "But you saw her face, this isn't bad, she's so excited to have someone to study with."

"Yeah, but I don't think she ever made it back last night. Do you think we should just check on them at ten? Maybe they just lose track of time." Smith suggested. She didn't want to be the one to go against Tara, but she also knew she had some responsibilities for her companion, studying or not.

"Maybe," Kitchen seemed to be thinking. "I'll go and check on them in a few minutes. If you go, she might think it's personal."

Smith looked a little bit sad, "yeah, I wish I could fix that, but I don't know how. I'll pray about it." She turned back to her journal to do her writing.

Kitchen Shimai looked a bit sad as well. "Okay." Kitchen considered the statement: "Pray about it," that's always seems to be the answer when you don't know what to do or haven't got a plan. She secretly wished checking in on Willow didn't have to be on her. She wasn't sure of what to expect, but she hoped it wouldn't be something she'd have to make any decisions on later. And if it was bad, Smith would be the better of the two to deal with Willow. Kitchen knew she was more a peacemaker, not the confronter type. She let out a quiet sigh and resumed her writing as well.

"Are you ready yet?" Tara inquired. Watching Willow get ready for their list was entertaining if nothing else. She had moved her tabled items at least three times in preparation for their talk. She might have seemed a little nervous, but Tara wasn't sure if this behavior was typical or not.

Willow had positioned herself behind the table with her books and pencils neatly stacked in front of her. She was fine with Tara taking the whole couch, she knew how tired they both were, but she was note-taker girl, and this had to be done. She took a deep breath, "Okay, all set." She opened up her notebook and grabbed her black ball-point pen.

Tara started out quietly, "Okay, first thing, we have to go to bed on time. This staying up late is getting me tired and even a little cranky."

Willow jotted something in her notebook Tara couldn't see. Well rested Tara = happy Tara. Check.

"Number two, we have to be careful how we touch each other. Things could get really out of hand with us, and that would be bad." Tara considered her next point very carefully. She lowered her voice to an even quieter level. "We need to respect the lines." Tara needed Willow to look at her, which to then, Willow had not done. "Willow, look at me."

Willow turned to see Tara; she looked as beautiful as ever. She watched as Tara used her hands to mark her cut off points that corresponded to their garment lines. She motioned at her knees and capped sleeved shoulders in a slicing movement with each hand then made a "V" insert at her neckline.

That I think I can do, that leaves her head open, woo hoo! Willow turned back and wrote something else on the paper. If I were in a better frame of mind, I might make some off-handed remark about a stewardess and the arm motion directives, but now is not the time.

"Three," Tara seemed to consider the next comment very carefully. "No dark corners."

"Four, we have to stay focused on the work." Tara held her head up a little straighter and appeared to clinch her jaw in determination.

Again, Willow nodded while making her notes. Okay, this officially sucks, but I want my Tara happy. "Um, Tara, how many rules are there gonna be?" Willow was considering her coding system and wondered what the outcome would look like if there were many more.

Tara pursed her lips in contemplation, "I'm not sure, those were all I could think of."

"Okay." Willow jotted down some more notes that confused Tara a little bit since there weren't any rules being discussed at the moment. "Hang on." Willow focused on her project.

Tara tried to look over Willow's shoulder, but she couldn't see unless she moved. Willow had effectively blocked her from viewing the notes she was working on. When Willow turned the page, and picked up another pencil, she was really puzzled. "Um, Willow," Tara finally said something as she watched Willow in what appeared to be some sort of artwork, "What are you doing?"

Tara looked a little disturbed but wanted to be patient with her friend. "Willow, why are you coloring? I thought we were having a talk about our rules."

"We are." Willow's response was short, but she picked up another color and started shading something she'd drawn.

"Can I see what you're doing?" Tara was starting to be curious now. This girl was really quirky. Maybe she colors when she works something out.

Willow was really concentrating on her task, "Not yet." She grabbed another color and started shading again.

Okay this is just insane, why is she hiding it? Tara sat up and looked over Willow's shoulder, but Willow had anticipated the move and covered her work moving it away from Tara's line of sight by cupping it under her free hand. Tara's interest was peeked so she started darting her head around trying to get a visual on Willow's notebook. They looked as though they were in some sort of a fencing match, move, and countermove.

Willow kept her work hidden with several rapid movements, but Tara finally got a partial look. "What is that?" She really didn't see anything relating to a list of rules on the picture that Willow had drawn.

"It's our rules." Willow responded as if this would answer all of Tara's questions.

Tara shook her head to dismiss it, "Willow that looks like something your niece might have drawn."

"Exactly," Willow seemed proud of her drawing. "I need to be reminded of the rules, so I need a way to focus on them all the time without anyone realizing what it means but me and you now.

"I'm not done yet." Willow's simple response was not what Tara wanted, but at this point, she was ready to give up.

Tara took a seat next to Willow on the floor and watched her finish up her drawing. She had made a large yellow ball in the top corner and made large sunrays fall upon the house she'd drawn. On the right side of the "yard," she put a large tree in front of the home she'd drawn. There were tiny little red balls so Tara assumed they were apple trees. Willow had curved the roof a little. Then she had shaded the roof of the house with her red in such a way that it looked as though the house had Oriental feel to it. The trim was also red.

The pumpkin was on the porch. It looked very large in comparison to the house. She drew a mailbox at the curb next and wrote "T. Trist" on it. She went back to the pumpkin and with her black pen made a large open-mouthed smile with four sharp teeth and sleepy little eyes.

She finished up the drawing by making a road in the front of the house that curved around the house. She drew yellow lines and quickly shaded the road with a blue pencil instead of gray. She finally went to the windows and added curtains that were pulled back at the middle of the window, and inside the square, she made a small bed. She put a little circle on the "presumed" wall in the bedroom and put some teeny little hands on her "clock."

Tara looked at the picture still baffled by what Willow had done. "Okay…" She stretched the word out as if Willow had completely lost her mind. "How do you get rules out of that?"

"Easy." Willow pointed to the sun, "That's you." Willow pointed to the red and white house. "That's our mission." The house belongs to Mr. Tom Trist." Tara tilted her head in amusement. This was the most ludicrous thing she had ever seen. "The road leads to the house and goes around it. The property clearly has no corners – and it's very bright out. Here I am." Willow pointed to the trees.

Tara still didn't see the rules. "Willow, you just wanted to draw a picture this makes no sense."

Willow took a deep breath. "Don't you see it?" She was sort of sad that Tara hadn't recognized her diabolical code. "We have to follow the road to get to the house – follow the lines: the rules. We have to focus on the mission. It is Thomas Trist's house – you know – like Optometrist. Optometrists help you see better. The sun is bright; there are no shadows, no dark corners on the lot to hide on. Everything is in the open."

Tara was actually starting to see it. "And the little bedroom, that's a clock with" she squinted, "it says ten o'clock doesn't it?" Willow nodded.

"Willow, I still don't understand the pumpkin, although it's cute in a too big for the porch kind of way."

Willow dropped her head in sadness, "Tara," she seemed defeated, "I can see you've made a decision and I respect that, I respect you and all your choices to do what you think is right. That pumpkin," Willow took a breath, but it seemed to stab her heart. "The pumpkin" she started again, "it is us. She took another breath and fought to have the courage to say what she needed to, "It's orange. We are red and yellow and this is the combination of us." She looked at Tara who was studying her, "And we're like the little orange M&M who can't have what we want. I wish we could be like everyone else, but we aren't."

Willow struggled to continue, "Plus, it's not just any pumpkin," Willow started to feel her eyes burn as tears formed, "its a little vampire pumpkin." Willow dropped her head in shame when her voice broke a little. After a moment she was finally able to get out the last sentence, "It overshadows the house and stands in the way."

Tara looked at Willow in amazement. Her four little rules that she thought were just helping them to get through their time together there and keep them out of trouble had Willow thinking she didn't want her, that she didn't need her. Willow used the symbolism to frighten her into obedience to Tara's wishes. Tara felt her eyes burn and tears form, her throat closed and her nose started to run. All she was able to do was whisper, "Oh Willow." And her tears fell.

Tara lost control as the tears came and her breath hitched several times. She tried to choke back the tears, but her breathing was broken. Every intake of air released a little sob. She didn't want to hurt Willow, but there was a big pumpkin in their way. You could slice it, dice, cut it up in little pieces, smash the guts, and make a pie; right now, that little pumpkin represented a really big risk she wasn't sure if she was ready to take.

It's funny how things get so crazy when you're trying to do the "right" thing.

Willow folded up her picture and placed it in her scriptures. She took another deep breath and centered herself. "Okay, so tell me what are we studying tonight?" She put on her best resolve face and grabbed her Book of Mormon with one hand and Bible with the other. She turned and looked at Tara as she held the books. She appeared to be weighing each one pending Tara's decision.

Tara pursed her lips. The girl was so cute, it was hard to be strong, but this was something she had to do. She considered her options; then she grabbed her notebook. She remembered there had been something she wanted to talk to Willow about.

Willow carefully placed the Bible back on the table and waited for Tara to continue. Tara slowly opened her notebook looking for the p-day talk from which she had a question. On her way to the page, she saw her notes from the funny devotional. She smirked and a tiny laugh squeaked out, which the overly Tara-observant Willow heard.

"Okay, something really funny happened that day didn't it?" Willow was interested in what was so humorous in the class to keep the beautiful blonde laughing that long after.

"Well," Tara began, "I don't think I can do it justice." She started to giggle again.

"Okay, well now you have to tell me, because this is two times it's come up." Willow wasn't begging yet, but certainly displaying some persistence in her request.

Tara sighed in defeat, "Alma 17:27." She said. Her voice was a little lower than her normal upbeat tone and tempo.

Willow opened her books looking for the chapter, "Come on little soldier, suck it up. Teach me something."

Tara started to giggle again. Tara came down on the floor next to where Willow had set up her display.

Tara settled in next to Willow at a reasonable distance. She started the discussion, "We're picking up here. The sons of Mosiah were led to the land of the Lamanites to teach the gospel. When Ammon arrived, the Lamanites captured him. He eventually ended up serving the King, Lamoni. Ammon's job was to protect the King's flocks, but there were enemies of the king that came and scattered the flocks."

"Why do all the names in the Book of Mormon have to be so hard to remember?" Willow quietly inquired. Tara shot her an amused look.

"Anyway, so all the sheep are scattered and the servants are all weeping because they think the king will slay them. Read that." Tara pointed to the verse 27, "and go until I say stop."

"Okay," Tara started in again. "So they are all going out to find the sheep. They quickly gather them up, but the evil men return. Ammon tells the other servants to watch the sheep while he goes to do battle with them." Tara nodded her head for Willow to continue her reading. She complied.

"Okay," Tara started again, "So Ammon is standing all by himself against the evil warriors and starts to cast stones at them."

"I thought we weren't supposed to cast stones." Willow questioned Tara with a little smirk showing.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I thought, but hang on it gets better." Tara smiled at the connection she felt with Willow again. "So he's out there with his little sling throwing stones and the guys are getting madder and madder. They come after Ammon with clubs to beat him."

"Well that can't be good." Willow had never had story time like this; she was thoroughly enjoying Tara Teacher. She suddenly had visions of Tara with a bunch of children gathered at her feet. It warmed her heart. Tara motioned for Willow to continue where she'd stopped.

After she read a bit Tara said, "Stop." Tara halted her in the middle of the verse. Willow looked a bit confused. "I know never stop in the middle, but you have to hear this part." Tara read, "And thus he slew a certain number of them and they began to be astonished." She emphasized the last part." Okay, so Ammon has his little rocks and he's slew – is that right – no slain – has slayed, a number of the men. They weren't really astonished, yet. They just began to be astonished. So now, the whole group is coming at him with their clubs. They're clubbing it." Tara started to giggle again, "They were like an evil men's club."

"More like the Masons I think, or probably the club that makes you put on funny hats like Howard Cunningham had to wear on Happy Days." Tara smiled at Willow as she remembered the hat.

Willow was starting to get amused at this side of Tara. She was usually funny, but this was "scripture" funny. And that's a special kind of funny.

"So here come the clubbers." Tara giggled again, "And each one who lifted his club against Ammon had his arm cut off. All the arms are just lying there on the ground and the men are standing there all armless." Tara nodded for Willow to continue.

"Oh look," Willow interrupted her reading. "They are 'beginning' to be astonished again – and they are not a few in number. The big armless Elk club, oh, but the Grand Poobah was slain." She started over and finished the passage.

"Okay, so all the armless men ran off, and left their arms behind." Tara nodded again for Willow to continue. As Willow read, Tara watched her to gauge her reaction.

"…and they went to the king, bearing the arms which had been smitten off by the sword of Ammon…Oh EEEW!" Willow stopped mid sentence.

"That's what I thought." Tara added, "But it all worked out because the king told the servants to take all the arms to his Armory." Tara busted out laughing again. So he was the strongest man in the land, having Ammon, the clubs, and arms of his enemies all within his Kingdom." She let out another chuckle, "I mean it's hard to fight when you're all armless. He unarmed his enemies."

"Or," Willow was chuckling, "would it be disarmed?" Willow took a little breath. "I mean how hard would it be to put together an armY when your soldiers are armLESS?" The imagery of the armless army was starting to get to her. "How would it be to put on your armor, without arms?" Willow put her hands up by her shoulders and started swinging her shoulders.

"Yeah, it's like having an army of Pez warriors." Tara laughed again. "Aaah." She wiped a tear from her eye. "But without the yummy candy."

Willow laughed again, "yeah," She chuckled again, "All they would be good for is a giant game of foosball."

Tara giggled, "Yeah." She imaged the life-sized game in her head. "I used to love that game. It's very exciting."

"Unless you're the armless guy on the pole next to all your armless friends." Willow was fanning her hand in front of her face. "Okay, stop, you're killing me."

"So the question I had was, did the armless men ever actually get astonished?" Tara inquired with a straight face, until she erupted again into a fit of giggles.

Both girls were laughing hysterically when Kitchen Shimai came out to check on Willow. Clearly, they were studying; their books were all open. "Well no wonder you never come in at night. If I'd known scripture study was this amusing I would have joined you."

Tara put her arms down tightly in front of her this time in Pez-fashion, "We were talking about Alma 17 and how hard it would be to have and army of armless men." Tara wiggled her shoulders.

Willow mirrored Tara's action, "Take that, Ammon guy." She threw a shoulder strike toward Kitchen.

"That's great." Sister Kitchen was amused and relieved; there was no need for concern. They were working and just overly involved in their studies. "Okay, see you in a bit," she nodded toward the clock on the wall.

Willow had managed to calm down after Kitchen had made her appearance and reminded her of her commitment to Tara, "And what was the other thing?" Willow asked.

Willow grinned and her tongue poked out a little behind her teeth. "I just did."

Tara gulped. That little peeking tongue was just too inviting. Cheater. Okay you can do this, stay focused. "I was looking for the line upon line reference, please."

"Well that's actually Old Testament, Isaiah I think." Willow put down her Book of Mormon and picked up the larger book; she quickly thumbed through the pages. She found a passage that was marked in red. "You should actually know this, see," Willow turned the page and she showed Tara where she'd marked another passage. "This is one of your scripture chase verses from Seminary. You should always know what is around the scriptures you're using out of context.

Tara looked over her shoulder. She was sitting next to Willow on the floor and as she looked over, she breathed in catching the fragrance of Willow's hair. She could feel her in her mind. Her heart was racing. This is so hard. She couldn't help reliving the moments from the prior night, and a wave of arousal shot through her again. Definitely.

"You didn't have to." Willow responded to the unfinished sentence. She took a deep breath of her own. She tried to focus on the picture she'd drawn in her mind. A happy sun. I need to put a smiley face on it. Road goes to the house, lines, clock, house of Mr. Trist – focus, we can do this.

Tara could tell Willow's mind was hard at work. She was starting to feel tired and weak. She knew what she had to do, even though it was hard. "We need to…"

Willow looked directly at Tara's lips still holding the shape of the "oo," "I know…go." Willow held her "oo" a little as well.

Willow held her ground. She had to be strong. For Tara. She nodded in compliance.

Tara looked Willow up and down searching for something she could do that would fall on the "right side" of the lines. There wasn't much left except her hands and face. Tara reached out, took hold of Willow's fingertips with her own, and leaned forward to lay a gentle kiss her forehead. "Let's go to bed. Okay? Tomorrow is another big day."

"Okay," Willow didn't want to move. Tara was touching her hand. She looked down. She wanted to memorize the delicate lines of her hands; she watched as Tara's thumb moved unconsciously in a sweet caress.

Tara squeezed her fingers a little when she noticed Willow looking at their hands. "Come on sweetie, we need to go now."

Willow felt the desperation. She had to help Tara. My Tara. She let Tara's hand fall away and picked up her books. This is really, really, hard. The more I try to do the "right thing," the harder it is. But Tara is strong. I can be strong. "Tomorrow then?"

"Yeah," Tara's voice seemed sad. She resigned herself to duty and picked up her own books. "Tomorrow."

Willow was running a little behind. That was unusual for her, but she'd had a rough night sleeping. She kept hearing noises and her dreams where upsetting. She'd run back to her room two times already because she had forgotten one thing or the other. It looked like the start of another bad day.

She hopped into the shower and quickly shaved her legs, then started in to her regular shower routine. She had lathered her hair. She was getting ready to set the bottle down when it slipped out of her hand. It made a muffled thud when it hit her big toe. From there, it bounced off of the big piggy and rolled out of the stall.

She bent down to try and see where the shampoo went. After not seeing it, she decided to rinse off her sudsy hair and then go look for it. Ha, I'm gonna finish the shower without a lather, rinse, and repeat, just a lather, rinse. Take that you big ole marketing liars.

Willow ran her hands through her hair rinsing the last of the soap bubbles from her silky smoothed red hair. The smell of passion fruit filled the stall. When the water suddenly went cold, she jumped out of the stream. She did a little dance while she moved around waiting for it to warm back up. After several moments, she realized the water wasn't going to heat back up. That's just great – but heck maybe just what I need, a nice cold shower. Willow jumped back under the stream.

"Ahhh!" Man, that's some cold water. I guess it's better then being in hot water. Willow thought back to the kiss she shared with Tara. What would have happened if we had gotten caught? Or what if we wouldn't? Stop, I mean…what if…wow, the water feels good now…Ah…stop it Willow, bad thoughts. The warm water was back with a vengeance. It was like magic fingers on her neck and shoulders.

She took the conditioner bottle and debated whether to use it. Remember the rules, Wil; you have to draw bigger lines. Willow decided to use conditioner; it gives your hair that extra glow you know. I have to be soft for Tara. Oh no, not again. Stop it! Hold the lines, follow the rules, focus. Gosh, all I want to do is stay up late, take her into a dark corner, and focus on going inside those lines. STOP IT! You have to respect Tara!

When she'd finished conditioning, she got out of the shower all steamy, and wrapped her big fluffy towel around her. The towel was a gift from her Aunt Melody so she especially liked it. It was powder blue with cute lavender swirls. The lavender swirls were subtle, and Willow knew what they meant, so it made it that much more special.

Her Aunt was an inspiration to her. She'd been in a relationship with Mandy for many years; and despite the cultural biases against them, they had made a stable home for their daughter, Carol. The girl was sweet and well adjusted. She knew that Carol was a happy and loving child. How could anyone think having two moms was that bad?

Willow's hair was all wet, water droplets ran down her back and stopped at the towel. More water trickled down her newly shaved legs. She wrung her hair in her towel to get it dry. As if she was in slow motion, she whipped her head around to dry it further. The natural curl returned as she gave it a few last pats to dry it a bit more.

From the corner of her eye, Willow thought she saw something moving beside her. She turned her head and was startled to see a fuzzy black spider webbing down toward her. She jumped in surprise, did the little Willow patented "freak out dance of the arachnid," and reached for the conditioner bottle so she could shoo the little fuzzy menace away. After regaining her composure, she remembered her sore toe and looked for the missing shampoo. She finally saw where the bottle had rolled. Still wrapped loosely in her towel, Willow knelt down, and reached to pick it up.

To say that Tara was amused would be the understatement of the decade. The last few days had been a roller coaster of emotion for her, and everything seemed amplified in her mind. She had heard Willow's bellow when she dropped the shampoo bottle and then the cold-water yelp that trailed behind. She tried not to spy, but if she were honest, that was a lie. She was mesmerized just simply watching Willow.

Tara almost laughed. She knew the cold-water salsa, had been caught herself a time or two. She admired Willow for jumping back under the chilly spray. The movements behind the curtain seemed to mirror Michael Jackson. Tara knew she should go, but she just couldn't drag herself away.

Willow watching was wonderful. Willow's movements were fluid behind the opaque curtain. Tara stared at the silhouette as she rinsed off her hair. She was hypnotized by the scent of her shampoo. The moment, this moment was permanently imprinted in her mind. She just continued to stare.

Tara thought she could almost see the girl considering whether or not to use the cream rinse. Just walk away, walk away, walk away.

When the water stream stopped, she knew she should quit staring, but she seemed stuck in place. She couldn't help it.

When the fluffy toweled girl stepped out of the shower, Tara's jaw fell open. She swallowed hard and licked her lips in Pavlovian response. As Willow did the spider dance, Tara finally broke free from her trance. When Willow gently shooed the spider, Tara smiled. The redhead's kindness moved her. Not even a pesky bug could incur her wrath.

Tara was finally ready to turn and walk away when the girl knelt to pick up the willful bottle. Her resolve to leave was ruined again as she saw the freckled skin on Willow's shoulder. As a rabbit in an open field discovered at morning light, she hoped to hide in plain sight – to evade Willow's watchful gaze. She froze. As if in slow motion, Willow reached out her hand, stretched out like a cat and pawed at the shampoo.

Tara took a sharp breath; she felt weak in her knees. Willow had her enraptured; she just could not leave. The towel wrapped 'round her showed all the right lines. From the front, from behind, Willow was divine.

Tara's mind raced ahead imaging the way she wished it could be. In her montage, she was happy; she was free.

She ran to her and held her fast; Willow welcomed her advance. Backed against the cool hard tile, Willow melted into her. Lips, tongues, hands, hearts folding into one. The tender touch of love gave way to passion and fire. She lost herself in that moment. She was overwhelmed by her desire. Her body pressed firm against the supple breasts, lithe met luscious, exquisite and delicious, Tara lost herself in the moment and for an instant, she believed.

Willow was startled again when she realized someone was in her cubicle. There she stood in fluffy towel, barely covered and all wet, and someone was watching her! She looked up and was sweetly surprised to see Tara.

For a moment, Willow felt awkward until she realized Tara was breathing hard, her eyes were deep blue with desire. She seemed lost to an image in her mind. Her eyes glimmered in the light. She was breathtaking. Willow thought Tara had never looked more striking.

Willow's heart fluttered with delight and in a flash, she was ablaze. Willow was amazed when the pulse of heat shot through her and threatened to bring her to her knees. She put her hand against the wall to steady herself. How does she do that? I'm a little wet Willow puddle.

Willow knew it was too much to hope that Tara would set aside her dreams so easily after the big rules talk. She tightened her towel to ensure she wouldn't further distract Tara with any accidental slippage. She tried to put her own passion away. Willow quickly contemplated her next move.

"Well I spy with my little eye…" She let a slow grin emerge on her face, "a Shimai!"

She dropped her voice to a whisper, "Tara, you gotta stop looking at me like that or I'm gonna need another shower." She let a little snort hoping that would break the trance.

Willow was afraid, but she took a step forward. "Tara?" She glanced around to note any activity in the room. Seeing no one, she took another step. "Tara?" she whispered again.

Tara returned to reality with a blink. Willow was two steps in front of her. She was a vision. She had heard the words but they had taken a moment to register. How cute, she rhymed. Tara took another moment to replay the last sentence. You gotta stop looking at me like that or I'm gonna need another shower…wait, what?

"Tara," Willow husked, "This is making it very hard for me to follow the rules." Her heart was in her throat, and her eyelids took on a slumberous expression as she melted under Tara's gaze.

Tara licked her lips again and tried to focus on Willow's face, but her eyes were fixed on her inviting mouth. Just a little taste. She thought the girl looked absolutely scrumptious. It was private in the stall, she'd shut and locked the door. What would it hurt, it couldn't hurt, just a little one to get me through the day. Tara took a labored breath and stepped closer.

Willow held her towel firmly in her grasp, her knuckles were white she was squeezing it so hard. Willow saw where Tara was staring and she was afraid that if Tara moved closer her own resolve would be broken. She wanted to be true to Tara's wishes, but the blonde was too much of temptation. Willow took a step back.

Tara took another step forward. Her desire for Willow was all she could see. In her mind, her montage had melded in to the now. She took another step.

With one final step back, Willow's heel had hit the wall. "Tara?" Tara continued to slowly advance.

"Yes, Willow." Tara nearly hissed. Her response was not an acknowledgment of Willow's question. It was not a simple indication that she had heard Willow say her name. It was an answer to an unasked question and displayed the desire and yearning that Tara had for Willow at that moment.

Tara took another step and in response, Willow put her hand out flat in front of her hoping only to stop the girl. When Tara took another step, Willow's hand met Tara's chest. Her palm rested gently against her sternum. Willow could feel the rapid heart beat, and labored breath. When Tara took another step Willow left her hand in place, but let her arm relax into the advance.

Willow was in heaven. It was an intimate touch, but not outside the lines and Tara was still coming closer. "Tara?" She felt like a broken record. She dropped her voice another tone, "Are you sure?" It was as if they were moving in slow motion.

Tara was so close Willow could feel her breath. Tara whispered softly, "Just need…" she took a tiny breath, "a little…" she moved within inches of Willow's face, "…taste."

Tara's gaze had finally broken free from Willow's mouth and she was searching Willow's green eyes for any hint of resistance. She reached up with her left hand and covered Willow's right that was still resting against her chest. She wrapped her hand around Willow's so her fingertips were in her palm. The action sent a tremor through Willow and intensified their bond.

Willow saw nothing but desire and love in the blue eyes that were searching hers. She allowed herself to look at the luscious lips that were so near. When Tara saw Willow's eyes shift, she took her right hand and gently placed it on Willow's bare shoulder.

The simple touch was the catalyst for a hidden fire Tara did not know burned within. Her montage had not prepared her for the passionate moment. She wasn't ready for the effect being this close to Willow would have on her.

Willow felt Tara's hand on her shoulder gently caressing her. The other hand still trapped between them. Tara's thumb trailed circles of fire with each pass. Willow held still. She was afraid to move and break the spell.

Tara flipped her hand over and let the tops of her fingers feel the smooth skin. She looked down and watched her own hand trailing along at will, she felt like she was painting a masterpiece. She was so lost in the hope of loving Willow.

She took a slow breath and picked up Willow's scent. She struggled to keep from falling. She waited for Willow to reply. Willow simply nodded.

Her chest heaved with another labored breath. The rush of air pushed their breasts together and when they met, Tara couldn't hold back anymore. She closed the distance between them and gently placed her lips against Willow's.

Willow felt Tara's hand gently travel up her arm to her shoulder, caressing, touching loving her. She had never felt such immense sensations. Willow trembled with her touch. Willow's other hand was still trapped between them with Tara's hand firmly holding hers close to her heart.

Willow closed her eyes and was lost for just a moment. She wanted to feel every second of the kiss, to be swept away by Tara's fire. Her center burned. Her hand was so close to Tara's breast. She stayed as still as she could and held tightly to her towel. She knew that the kiss was not going to last.

It was a sweet kiss, full of longing but chaste. When they parted, their lips seemed to have melted together as though their skin was resistant to breaking free. Tara felt unsteady as she took a moment to process what the kiss had been.

It took everything that Willow had not to descend upon Tara and take her into a steamy embrace. She was still reeling from the kiss, her hand still in place safely tucked between Tara's mounds. She felt the flutter of the heartbeat of the beautiful girl a hairsbreadth away. She inhaled deeply trying to cleanse herself, to free herself from the passion welling within. All it did was inflame her more.

"Oh Tara," she heard the whimper and barely recognized her voice. She felt herself being pressed against the tile again.

Tara pulled Willow's arm away from her chest, and looked down at their hugging hands. She unwrapped her fingers from their grasp, and gracefully placed Willow's hand back where it had been. She covered it with her own for a moment in gesture. She wanted Willow's hand to stay as if she held her heart. Tara moved forward closing the small gap between them.

Willow's breath hitched again. Her own body met the soft form that was melting into her own. Tara seemed to be everywhere all at once trailing fire with her fingertips as she took Willow into her arms and wrapped her in a firm embrace.

Willow felt the heat rising between them and knew she was naked without her towel. She wasn't sure why she didn't feel more self-conscious. She surrendered to her touch.

Tara stroked her hands along Willow's shoulders. She seemed to be making lines between freckles and down to the top of her towel. Tara had drawn that line. In her mind, that towel kept her from breaking all the rules. She bent a little one this time, but the draw was just too much, she had lost herself in the ecstasy of simply watching Willow.

Tara took a breath when she realized that in a few moments she would not be satisfied with the touch. She backed away from her just enough to kiss her brow. She left the redhead standing near the shower in a daze.

Willow regained her composure after at least five minutes and debated taking another shower. In the end, she decided against it, gathered up her things and headed out to start her day.

With the kiss still fresh in her mind, she sat in the gym doodling in her notebook. The drone of the girl's feet lulled her into her own thoughts. She was lost in the memory and the feelings of Tara. She felt renewed passion as she remembered her touch, her taste, her smell. She breathed deep in the moments of Tara.

She started to hear a tune in her head and absentmindedly started to doodle. When she recovered from her daydream, she looked down and saw the words she written.

What would it take
To be forever
To shine with fire
Of love brand new
I can only dream
That she will hold me
Without her, I am alone

What would it take
To be forever
To shine with fire
Of love brand new
I can only dream
That she will love me
Without her, I am alone

Willow sat in language class. The events of the morning kept replaying in her mind; and that persistent little tune, where had that come from. She kept looking back at her notebook to review the words. When Tara smiles. Just those three little words shot images through her mind. Tara's half grin, story telling Tara, that nervous smile full of compassion she had seen when they first met. Willow recalled her warmth, her mischievous little grin when she was telling her how to use her chopsticks, and conspiratorial Tara. She always seemed to know what she was thinking, even if it was counting the "huh" or "what's" when Conley talked too fast to the group. Tara's eyes shone bright with joy when she smiled.

Willow thought about their late night adventures. Tara's eyes reflected something that Willow never thought someone would direct at her. She never dreamed so much emotion could pass with just a look. Tara's eyes showed desire and passion and at times a tortured longing. That look, that magical look was for her.

Willow couldn't imagine what was going through Tara's mind. They seemed to be on a wild ride and she didn't have a clue who was driving. Willow wondered if the towel kiss, albeit relatively chaste, was going to cause a problem for Tara. She knew she was already struggling to reconcile her feelings with her commitments to The Church.

I really did try to stop her; Willow thought as she replayed the event. But her heart, the beating, it was so strong and fast. I have to stop thinking about this. New topic…Jones Sensei will be here any minute. I wonder why he's late; he's never late. And we were only one minute late today; that's like a record. I can't believe Smith Shimai…

Jones Sensei arrived just as Willow was starting her tirade about Smith Shimai's excessive tardiness. It was always a good distraction for her to think about Smith Shimai when she needed to get her mind off Tara. He set down his book bag and took something out.

"Ohaiyo gozaimasu," he began. He always started class with a grin and a pleasant tone. Today he must have been smiling, but his back was turned.

He faced the Choros on his left and appeared to be handing them each something small. When he arrived in front of Kitchen Shimai, Willow realized that these were the blue dots. Oh, this is the seventh day this is a milestone. It doesn't feel like a week. Wouldn't the week be at the end of the day or the next day since we arrived on a Thursday; shouldn't the milestone come on Thursday when we start the next week?

The Choros placed their dots on the corners of their nametags. Willow observed them. They seemed proud of those dots. Smith took hers and placed it on top and smoothed the edges down, Kitchen in one fluid thumbprint style affixed hers. Willow received her dot and considered it for a long moment. She stared at the little dot sitting on her index finger waiting for her next move. She glanced around the room; all of them were nearly done. She removed her badge, stuck her dot on the back and quickly replaced the badge to her sweater. She wasn't sure why she didn't feel the pride the others seemed to. She didn't feel ready to display any reminders of how ill prepared she felt.

"A new group comes in tomorrow," the teacher began. "And you may have noticed a group left bright and early this morning."

Willow thought back to the morning. She'd not noticed a thing out of the ordinary on her floor. She didn't recall anything unusual. She tried to recreate her morning routine in her mind. Got up, turned on the light, and went to the shower, wait, rewind…slow down. Try to look around. She closed her eyes to see with her inner eye. She had ignored all the extra crowd noise out this morning. Suitcases! How did I miss that? There was only one answer: Tara. This is so bad. Who left, oh my gosh, who wasn't here anymore? Think Willow think!

Willow's mind was blank. The only thing she could see in her mind was Tara's face

"You're not the new group anymore. You need to set the example, light the way, and show them the ropes." Jones continued. "Make sure you are speaking Japanese when you are around them, set the tone for their training here."

Oh great, just what I need, another follow the rules speech. Willow slumped in her chair a little.

Is he still talking? I didn't get a buddy. Why didn't I have a buddy? What kind of a buddy? The only buddy I want…Don't finish that thought.

"…so let's get started, sa jyugyo wo hajimemasu." Jones stood very stiffly and bowed to the group. He eyed the group while he bowed. Willow thought something had changed. The rest of the session, he didn't use one word in English even the words they had not learned yet. The intensity level was elevated. Everyone was going to have to step up. Naturally, Willow panicked.

On the other side of the hall, Tara was feeling uncomfortable. She also rehashed the events of the morning in her mind. How did Willow do that? She actually didn't do anything. I was just walking by this morning and something made me stop, and look toward the stall. Normally I would never do that, I respect people's privacy. What was that? I didn't even know it was Willow in there, did I? Did I become a Willow stalker? If I'm not a Willow stalker, then why couldn't I drag myself away? That was so rude of me, but she didn't seem to mind. Tara let out an almost inaudible sigh. Conley looked over and furrowed her brow trying to read the girl. Something was clearly bothering her.

Conley Shimai leaned over and whispered to Tara, "If you need to talk about it…" She trailed off.

Tara didn't want to look up. She knew her fear might betray her if Conley saw her eyes. Luckily, the Choros were loud enough to cover Conley's statement, and Colson was thumbing through her textbook so she was distracted and not listening. No one else seemed aware of her internal conflict. She knew Conley was right. Tara was worried too.

As she was considering her options, their sensei arrived. She placed her tote on the table and pulled out a sheet with blue dots on it. She quietly turned to face the group. She bowed slightly and started passing out the small tokens of their achievement.

Tara had forgotten that today they got their weekly dot. Along with the others, Tara unpinned her badge and pulled it off her blouse. She turned it over and looked at the front of it. She had several feelings associated with that nameplate, but now she just felt devoid of anything. She felt as though she had not done her best to stay focused on the work and her study was lacking. She felt unworthy. She felt shame.

When the teacher came to her, Tara unfolded her arms, smiled meekly at the sister and took her blue dot. She thought about where to place it. She wanted to put it over her name or the title, but she couldn't do that. The other members of her group had selected a variety of locations on the tags for display. It was the right thing to do to display it on the front so she elected the lower right hand corner. It was only a few seconds before the tag was back in place over her heart. Oh well, out of sight out of mind I guess.

When their teacher began speaking, Tara suddenly thought that Conley had infected their instructor with her speed speak. All of the words, the sentences everything seemed foreign, and not just in the "I really don't understand this language" way, but as if she had never learned anything remotely related to what was being spoken.

Tara did a quick tiny headshake hoping that would clear her mind. She looked around. The teacher was the same person they'd always had, she was still in class with the same people, yet the woman's cadence had changed. It seemed more eloquent and formal, but definitely faster than it had the day before. Tara wondered how many speeds the teacher possessed in her language skills. Tara only had two speeds: slow and English.

Tara held back a startled gasp. Maybe it was just her. Maybe this was punishment for earlier. No, that couldn't be right. That wasn't how we respond to these kinds of dilemmas. Rewards come after work. God helps those who help themselves. It was a simple solution. She blamed herself. She alone was responsible for her inability to understand; she dropped her head in humility. She hoped that the only reason she failed to understand was simply a lack of focus. She could re-dedicate herself to her studies. She could catch up. She'd just have to work harder.

The morning language class flew by. Willow followed Kitchen and Smith to the bathrooms before heading over for lunch. She didn't say a word to either of them after the class. She was still in shock. She wasn't even hungry. She grabbed a yogurt and an apple for later, just in case she needed a snack.

What she really wanted was some hot cocoa or something with a little Kahlua in it, but that was off the plan now. She wasn't a big drinker before, but she had a nip or two when she was at a party once, and it tasted good. She'd learned that a dab of coffee had the same flavor and she'd started to enjoy that before she joined The Church. The whole caffeine issue was unclear so she'd opted to be safe just in case. She felt bad for even thinking about missing the taste and berated herself for her lack of resolve.

Tara and her companions headed toward the cafeteria by way of the mailboxes. There were a few items for them, so that was a welcome distraction. This should be a bright spot in their day, but not today. Tara looked down at the unopened letter in her hand and the letters in her companions' hands and suddenly felt tired. The letter from Donnie was most likely some encouraging words or filled with inspiring scriptures for her to review. Even thought it was light, it felt heavy in her hand. She just wasn't ready to look at it.

She made a decision and motioned toward the front desk with her thumb. Conley and Colson saw the nonverbal request and followed behind her. When they got to the front desk, she opened her notebook, pulled out a paper and wrote something down. She handed it to the clerk and quietly gave her instructions. The clerk nodded a few times as Tara spoke, obviously understanding her intentions. As quickly as they arrived, they were off again. They headed toward the cafeteria to grab some lunch.

Willow, Smith and Kitchen were almost finished when Tara, Conley and Colson arrived and started working their way through the line to get their food. Kitchen gave a little wave to the three of them. Willow was staring at her apple as if it had injured her somehow. Conley made a mental note of Willow's mood and her apparent disdain of her food selection.

After Tara and her companions had chosen a few items for lunch, they made their way over to the tables and sat down. Tara had chosen just a salad and a banana for a late night snack. She started moving the salad around on her plate. She wasn't very hungry, but she knew she should eat something. Tara was lost to her own thoughts and stared at her banana.

Conley noticed Tara's brooding and made an offhanded comment, "Did you catch Willow's fruit problem? "

Sister Conley furrowed her brow trying to figure out what had prompted the response. "No, I didn't say that, I said she had a fruit problem. She eats fruits. What I meant was she seemed angry at her apple today and you look a little upset with your banana."

"Oh," Tara was embarrassed by her outburst. "Sorry, I guess I'm just a little out of it today."

"I guess so," Conley affirmed. "You know if you need…" Conley didn't get to finish her thought before Tara interrupted her.

"No, it's ok. I guess I'm just a little tired is all." It wasn't completely a lie; she was tired, tired of struggling, tired of not knowing what was right, tired of not understanding Japanese, and tired of learning. She just wanted to take a nap. But now was not the time.

"Okay then." Conley tried to look anywhere but at Sister Maclay; she didn't want to embarrass the girl.

Nevertheless, Tara was embarrassed. She said in a near whisper, "I'm sorry. I've just got some things on my mind." Tara finally looked up and caught Conley's eye.

"I don't think you're the only one." Conley used her eyes and eyebrows to point toward Willow who was still studying her apple. She had started playing nervously with the stem, twisting and bending it without any intention of breaking it.

Tara regarded the girl discretely. Tara smirked with amusement when Willow suddenly found the stem in her fingers and looked disappointed. Conley had also seen the girl fiddling with the stem and bit back a snicker of her own.

Conley considered her next statement carefully. She rejected a myriad of comments and settled on the one least likely to cause Tara any concern, "She sure can turn your frown upside down, can't she?"

Tara turned back and gave Conley a quick glance to make sure she too was smiling at Willow, "Yeah." She shook her head, trying to give herself an extra moment for the right type of response, "I don't think she knows it though." Tara realized that she had censored her thoughts to reply to Conley. She hadn't wanted to sound overly attached to Willow, or she might give herself away. One lunch blunder was enough.

Conley shook her head as well, "No, I don't think so either." Conley looked at the remaining half of her sandwich for a second and picked it up before she continued, "I think you are good for each other, a good compliment." Conley took a bite and started chewing.

Tara stabbed a piece of lettuce, "Why do you think that?" The lettuce disappeared behind Tara's lips and she stabbed her next mouthful.

Conley swallowed, "You make each other smile." She took another bite of sandwich.

Tara paused mid air with her fork poised for entry, "You and Colson Shimai make me smile too." Tara used her fork to point to the other sister and when she flicked her wrist in Colson's direction, she dropped her would-be bite of food. It landed in the middle of the table and a little splatter of dressing landed on Colson's arm that was resting on the table between them.

Conley looked down at the offending drip then back up at Tara. She shook her head back and forth and dabbed her arm with her napkin. "Maclay Shimai, didn't your mother ever tell you not to point at stuff with your fork?" Tara just blushed.

Conley motioned with her head toward the redhead who had been watching their exchange. Tara turned to look in that direction and saw Willow trying to hold back a chuckle of her own. A look of genuine affection now directed at Tara had replaced the apple glare.

Tara smiled nervously when she first looked over at Willow. Their eyes locked in an instant. Blue met green and the distance between them seemed to disappear. Tara's face reflected the same fondness back to Willow. She quickly broke the gaze and looked back at Conley. Conley wore a similar expression. Tara resumed her salad stabbing.

Conley was nearly done with her sandwich. "We better hurry up. We gotta go not understand another few hours before dinner."

"Well yeah, did you think it was just you?" Conley looked a little puzzled at Tara's comment. "I'm hoping they did that on purpose just to scare us."

Tara wasn't convinced, "Well it worked." I bet Willow freaked if they did that in her class too. No wonder she had that "million mile stare" and looked like she wanted to bore a hole through her apple. Knowing her, she was projecting herself into that apple since it was red and all. She probably worried when she saw that I was doing the same thing with my banana. If she thinks I'm upset, she'll blame herself for that too.

Tara noticed that while she was reviewing Willow's apple mood and her own fears that the others had completed their meal and Colson was looking at her.

"Earth to Maclay Shimai, are you ready?" Colson appeared to be repeating her question.

"Oh yeah, sorry," Tara thought she was saying that far too much today. She picked up her banana and got her books together again. She looked to where Willow and the others had been sitting. They had already gone. "Sorry," she whispered to herself. That apology was for missing Willow leave. Tara thought back for a moment on Conley's comment, "Good for each other," huh. I wonder.

The rest of the day felt like a whirlwind of words. Nothing made sense and Tara felt like her head was going to explode. They had finished the group sing along to signal the end of the day. The girls headed back to the dorm and were almost back to the room.

"I can't decide if we should party or just go straight to bed." Colson rubbed her forehead as Conley opened the door for them and placed her books on her desk.

Conley let out a yawn. "Sleep sounds good." She'd already taken off her shoes and was getting ready for bed. "But I would like to check in on Kitchen and the others see if they had the same experience as we did." Another yawn squeaked out.

"I know you're tired." Tara had also shed her flats and started to get undressed. "I finally understood everything you said." Tara stopped unbuttoning and rubbed her arm. It was sore from writing all day. "Can't we just learn all this by osmosis?"

Colson stopped rubbing her head and looked a little more alert, "Yeah, maybe they have tapes we can play at night while we sleep."

"I vote hypnosis and the power of suggestion." Conley perked up a little bit, but still was speaking at a slower tempo than normal.

Tara let out a quiet bark of laughter, "you are very sleepy," she started in with a rhythmic soothing tone, "when you wake up you will feel refreshed, you will understand everything that others say to you."

Colson bit back a laugh of her own and matched Tara's rhythm. "And when you hear the word," she thought for a moment, "sleepy…you will be a chicken."

Visions of Conley doing a chicken dance flooded her mind. Tara sucked on her lips so hard they disappeared into her mouth. When she regained her composure a little, she continued looking deeply into Conley's eyes, "there will be lots of clucking and wing flapping and head bobbing."

"And you will continue being a chicken until you hear the word, stop" Colson was enjoying this moment, "and you will have no recollection of being a chicken."

Conley played along, bobbing her head and allowing her eyes to droop. "Three…two…one," Tara said and snapped her fingers.

"How could you do that to us?" Colson looked annoyed for second, but then seemed to be thinking. After a few moments she said, "Can we do that?"

Tara looked back and forth quickly between the two sisters. "I don't know, is that off the plan?" Colson ran through a check list in her head, "in by nine, in the room by 10:00 lights out 10:30, no calls to family, friends, no TV or radio, no sports except half court basketball – and I hate basketball by the way. The only one it might be against is spending money on non-missionary activities."

Tara had finished putting on a silky looking button down sleep shirt and pant set. "Ok, let me look." Willow would know, she's probably memorized these things already. Tara picked up her handbook and started skimming through the text. "Gosh, how many rules are there in here?" It was a rhetorical question. She continued her quick review.

Thou shalt spend your money only on things relating to your mission. Bummer.
Thou shalt budget your money carefully.
Thou shalt keep a record of what you spend.
Thou shalt not spend more than your companion.
Thou shalt not loan money.
Thou shalt not borrow money.
Thou shalt keep a reserve fund of $50 to $100 at all times for transfers.
Thou shalt pay your bills before leaving an area.
Thou shalt pay cash for all resale literature and supplies ordered from the mission office.
Thou shalt not waste money on souvenirs.
Thou shalt not waste money on unnecessary items.

Conley had also finished putting on her sleeping attire. "If this can be done, Maclay Shimai will find a way," she said with confidence.

Tara didn't look up from her research, "You mean I can find a way to justify being off the plan."

Conley looked a little surprised by the sister's curt response, "No, I mean you can find a way to make it a spiritual experience for us."

Thou shalt pray with your companion every day.
Thou shalt study with your companion every day.
Thou shalt plan your work with your companion every day.
Thou shalt take time at least once a week for companionship inventory.
Thou shalt seek to be one in spirit and purpose and help each other succeed.

"Does everyone promise not to flirt with the delivery guy or be alone with him?" Tara inquired.

"Okay, we have to have our companion inventory and seek to be one in spirit and purpose to make this work." Tara looked at both girls to see if they could commit to the requirement.

"We could make this a weekly thing so it's official. I don't think we've done the companion inventory yet." Tara was ticking off the requirements she'd determined would put pizza back "on the plan." "And we have to get it here before ten. Can we do that?"

Conley and Colson both looked at each other. Colson laughed, "What are you looking at me for, how do I now if American pizza companies can get food here that quick."

"Okay, let's get cracking. Who has a dime? We have a phone call to make." Tara looked at Colson to see if she'd pick up the cue.

Colson grinned showing her teeth, "Who you gonna call?" She said it in her best Ghostbusters style.

"How about…toppings?" Tara cringed. This could either make or break the plan. Nothing prepared her for the chaos that ensued.

Everyone spoke at once, "Pepperoni, mushrooms, oh no fungus, sausage, peppers, tomato, bacon, olives, beef, onion, extra cheese, ham, no anchovies, yeah, no anchovies, ooh, Hawaiian…"

The last voice was not one of the three, all three girls looked toward their door and Willow stood with her head peeking through the door with Kitchen and Smith behind her.

"I'm sorry, we heard you in the hall, and had to stop in." Kitchen Shimai explained. The girls had become so familiar with each other it hadn't even dawned on them to knock. "We just wanted to see how everything went today, haven't seen you but in passing."

Willow waved her fingers at the group and gave a shy smile. She felt like they'd interrupted something and felt bad for the intrusion. "Sorry, we'll just go…" Willow trailed off. "Gomen nasai," [sorry] she bowed and started back out into the hall.

"No, Rosenberg Shimai, wait." Colson was sympathetic; after all, she'd just been infected by the pizza virus a moment ago. "We're trying to get pizza delivery on the plan."

"Well we certainly can't be off the plan." Smith interjected as she strolled in the room. She took a hard look at Tara and then back to Willow.

Kitchen looked uncomfortable still standing in the doorway. "Pizza o hoshi desu," [I want pizza] she pouted a little. She too had been infected by the virus.

Tara sat down on the bed. "According to…the plan…," she made air finger quote marks, "we need to make this pizza part of a mission activity. General pizza party is not going to work. We have a time deadline. Plus," she paused a little looking at all the people now gathered around her for rules for…the plan, "plus, we have to actually agree on the toppings for said pizza."

Willow giggled a little when Tara said, "said pizza." Tara was taking charge and they were going to get pizza. There was a general shift in the room and Willow thought for a moment that she'd never been more proud. It was always Conley or Kitchen that seemed to be the ones, with the exception of the passive aggressive tardy Sister Smith. Willow decided it was time to implement her special skills.

"I'm on it." Willow went to Tara's desk and glanced over the items sitting there: journal, scriptures, pen, (which she grabbed) and notebook. She opened the notebook to the last page, and it looked full. She turned one page back, and found it was blank. She did that too sometimes when there was something she wanted to save for later to recopy, or she didn't want to keep in the main area or if it was something private. That last thought intrigued her.

Willow turned the chair so she could side sit at the desk and use the corner. She folded the notebook so she could write on the page. Willow looked down at the notebook and had the most intense feeling of de ja vue. She made a makeshift grid on the notepaper. "Okay, Smith Shimai, topping choices please and go slow, I have to write this all down. It will be faster as we go.

"Check, kill the slimy dirt fungus." Willow nodded then continued. "Olives," Willow made a little face that Tara and the others smiled at, "zucchini, tomatoes, beef,"

"Oh, no beef, and I could care less about the zucchini." Smith was feeling a little more into the pizza now. The virus had now infected her as well. "And no tomatoes unless everyone wants them, there's just something about that texture that annoys me."

Willow licked her lips in thought, "Canadian bacon or ham?" She went ahead and added them to the list.

"Oh yeah, sure." Smith nodded in acquiescence. She sat down on the floor near the middle of the room by the desk across from Willow.

"Oh, I don't care." Colson was amiable. "Just anything with good tomato sauce and yummy cheese is fine with me." Colson was fiddling in her closet.

Willow furrowed her brow, "Come on, you're all alone and you have money burning a hole in your pocket and are craving pizza. What do you get?"

Colson blushed, "Either Hawaiian or just sausage and pepperoni." She sat down on the bed across from Tara's bed.

Willow smiled. "Okay, that's more like it." She checked off her boxes, "Kitchen Shimai?"

Kitchen looked up from where she'd sat down by the end of the bed near the door, "I like the veggie style or just the basics, no anchovies"

The mere mention of anchovies brought a round of anti-tiny salty fish comments from everyone in the group.

"Oh I should have organized by meats verses veggies, oh well, next time." Kitchen was close enough to see Willow's grid she stood up and pointed to a couple of the boxes and she completed her chart. Willow looked over the Conley. "You're up."

Willow was not ready for that comment at all, and given the lateness of the evening and her state of mind, she really struggled not to laugh aloud. She squeezed the pen and simply checked through the meat list. "Any veggies you like or are willing to pick off?"

"Oh onions or peppers are ok. I agree on the tomato thing, not hip to olives or mushrooms." Conley turned and went over to the chair at her desk and sat down.

"Okay T- um – Maclay Shimai," Willow blushed a little at her near slip. "We're almost done," She turned to face her. Tara was already up off the bed and coming over. She knew the timetable and the timing was getting close. She came over to where Willow was standing near the table.

"Let's see what you've got." Tara made her way over to the desk. She came alongside Willow and put her hand on the back of the chair. She glanced at the notebook over Willow's shoulder.

For Willow, just the sudden proximity to Tara caused an involuntary breath. Even at the end of the day, Tara's natural scent was just so nice. It radiated from her. Willow closed her eyes for a moment.

She turned to look at Tara. She had not realized how close Tara was to the desk…or her. She almost ran her face into Tara's…Oh my god, Oh my god, those, oh! Willow broke out in a sweat. Willow lost all concentration as she focused in on the vision before her. If I wasn't gay before. Those are just, well oh my. Well every time I see those they just are so…Oh My.

The light peach silky shirt top hung loosely on Tara, and Willow could almost see her shiny silk-like garment and lace underneath. The nightwear was not see-through or inappropriate, just elegant and nearly opaque. Willow watched Tara struggle not to inhale sharply in reaction to Willow's response. She, she, she…those are some luscious yummies. Oh, that's so bad. It's just her chest, well that's not exactly what I'm looking at, no rib or sternum ogling involved here. This is just plain boob lust, that's what it is. I need to focus, focus, focus! No more breast viewing. I have got to do the pizza.

Tara realized she was a bit too close, but she'd committed to the location and didn't want to back up and give herself away or Willow. She knew it was risky, but she stood firm. Looks like pepperoni, sausage, onions and peppers are ok with most of us, Hawaiian the other half." I like veggie too – should we get some of that too?"

Willow looked at the grid she'd made. Tara had called it without her even putting her selection in, "Yeah, how about half pepperoni and sausage, half Hawaiian, then half veggie and the other half pepperoni, sausage, onion and pepper?"

"Great!" Tara was very pleased that Willow was able to assist the group this way; it had made it so easy for them. "Good job Rosenberg Shimai, subarashii [wonderful]" She also knew the others would recognize her unique contribution if she pointed it out. "I sure wouldn't have thought to do that." She smiled warmly at Willow and turned to the group. "Who's gonna call?" She turned away from Willow and looked to the rest of the group seated around the room.

Kitchen stood up, "We will go, we're still dressed in our grownup clothes. We'll order and get in our sweats and keep an eye out." She considered for a moment. "We have to eat it here, cause if we try to take it down the hall, the whole floors gonna want to eat it."

Tara turned to Kitchen, looked down at her outfit and smiled, "I guess we should be glad you stopped in then." A genuine smile erupted on her face, "Even if we had to do a little coercion to get the help."

"Well it's not like it took that much. It is pizza after all. As far as food cravings, it ranks very high on the suggestible meter or is that suggestive?" Kitchen confused herself and Tara had to move them along.

She turned to Smith, "We're using this opportunity for our companion inventory, so we'll get that done while we wait." Tara turned to her companions to ensure the plan was set. They both nodded.

Willow jumped up and got into character clapped her hand like a quarterback. "Okay, break!" Most of the girls looked at her as if she had lost her mind except for Tara; she had brothers.

"That meant everyone go and do what they need to right now." Tara explained to the group. We're inventorying and you're orderering," she said the word incorrectly on purpose which earned her a smile from Willow. "I recommend you also find a mission related something to do." She caught Willow's eye and mouthed a silent "thank you" to her, which earned her another huge grin.

As the three sisters headed out the door, Willow looked back on the group again. "Thank you for letting us barge in on this. It means a lot, and we will do the same. Well be back as quick as we can after it gets here – no one likes lukewarm pizza." Willow put her back on the others to move them along. "Come on guys. Gotta get on the plan or we're off the plan." Willow thought back to her picture she had drawn. Follow the rules to get through the mission. It's the mission that matters. I've got to stay stronger for Tara.

Willow refrained from running down the stairs to call for the pizza – but she did beat the others to the phone and in no time, they'd ordered and made it back to the room. They had 20 minutes to do their own inventory. Willow wondered if they could possibly clear the air in three hours, let alone twenty minutes. She made a mental commitment, put on her resolve face. I have a plan and I'm going to execute that plan – if it kills me. Pizza or Tara cravings, I'm gonna be strong.

Willow was on lookout duty with the others close by. They had dressed in their nightwear in no time at all, and had a quick chat about what they should cover in their companion inventory. Willow appointed herself secretary for the upcoming event. Topic number one was P-day.

There wasn't a lot of traffic coming in or out of the MTC at this hour and when Willow spotted headlights; she motioned the others that they needed to make their way out through the corridor and through the breezeway to the sidewalk.

The music was blaring when he drove up in his beat up Gremlin, blue with snazzy racing stripe. No doubt, he was one of the many struggling students working while trying to obtain a degree at the campus next door, Brigham Young University.

He left the radio on, got out of the car, and grabbed the red foil lined container with pizzas inside. He probably didn't even realize that his music was off the plan for the young missionaries. When the chorus started, he bobbed his head to the beat of Chicago and made his way up to the entrance. He was singing at half voice, and making the appropriate rock star grimaces with each stanza. He probably didn't realize the young redhead was observing him as he made his way through the parking lot.

Willow was fiddling nervously with the buttons on her mom's brown coat, cursing herself again that they hadn't made it to the mall to look at possible replacements for it and for the needed shoes. It was clearly not a warm enough jacket for snow especially when she'd chosen to put on her actual pajamas for their gathering. She was also starting to feel guilty for the whole pizza thing. They hadn't finished their inventory; they'd only started.

The delivery guy hummed through the parts he didn't know and ended the verse with a flourish. Willow heard him coming before she saw him in the darkness and she rushed toward the access area to accept the pizza. He was still hum/singing as he made his way over to the designated drop point. This was not his first delivery to the Training Center. The music continued playing as background noise.

While the final verse played softly in the background, Willow pulled their money out of her pocket to pay for the pizza. She quickly figured out the tip and rounded it to the nearest devisable of four. She handed it over. He nodded, and accepted the money. Willow finally recognized the song that was playing.

She watched him turn and walk away, his head still bobbing to the beat. He picked up his singing in the middle of the chorus. She thought it was funny she hadn't been able to go a week without a pizza. She panicked a little when she realized that pizza might not even be available in Japan. As he got further away, his confidence increased and he belted out the words.

The music faded into the distance as he drove off to do his next delivery. Willow suddenly felt mixed emotions. She was excited about the pizza. She knew pizza was a huge sacrifice, just the mention of a few toppings and they had all moved mountains to get one. Well Tara had moved mountains. And Mr. Delivery had put that song in her head. The words replayed in her mind. I'm addicted to you, you're a hard habit to break. She realized there was something that would be harder for her to give up than pizza. A shiver of sadness touched her. She put on a superficial smile. And after just a moment, she turned and walked to rejoin her companions who stood at the door.

When Willow and the others got to the sister's door, they knocked quietly. When they heard a soft invitation, they entered. The mood in the room was much different then when they had left. Willow glanced around to each of the girls trying to decide what the best icebreaker would be. Sister Kitchen spoke first. She had such grace and great vocal quality. No matter what she said, it seemed to flower the room.

"Okay everyone, we will proceed to said pizzas in an orderly fashion, there will be no pushing or shoving." When Kitchen said "said pizza" her face glowed with affection toward all the others in the room. She looked around at each girl in the room. Dare no inote imasu ka? [Who is going to pray?] Then she added, "Nihongo de" [In Japanese].

Willow smirked. Good call, ask the question; then you don't have to do the invocation. I should have thought of that.

Willow was surprised when Tara offered and even more amazed when she took hold of Conley's hand as a signal that they would kneel for this offering. It was such a simple thing, but the action left Willow feeling humbled and renewed. Each sister joined Tara in forming a circle. They each crossed their arms in preparation for her prayer. Willow held her breath. She wasn't sure if she wanted to send her thoughts of courage, clarity or love to the girl who now would lead them in this moment. She also knew that the sound of Tara's voice leading them would impact her and she was afraid to let any emotions show. She bit her lip and held her arms firmly in place.

Tara spoke the words with feeling. Willow could tell it was hard for Tara. Her lack of vocabulary was limiting her ability to communicate her thoughts. She was slow and careful and Willow could tell that if Tara had said a prayer in English she would be eloquent and humble. She realized this was the first time she had heard Tara say a prayer and she was ashamed. In their attempts to be strong, they had forgotten a crucial piece. They had forgotten to ask for help.

Willow whispered quiet supplications for help and forgiveness. She felt as though there was something else, something that was nagging at her. A chorus of "amen's" signaled the end of the prayer and Willow realized she'd missed the end of Tara's prayer. Everyone stood and went for their pizza and Willow hung back. As was often the case, she continued the dialog in her head as the others stood and started eating the pizza even before they sat down. She quietly contemplated her situation in an intense internal dialog of thoughts, feelings and words. This was how she connected to the higher power. Rote words without feeling were trite she had decided long ago.

Tara noticed Willow seemed deep in thought. She was afraid to approach her for a few reasons, but decided that all her reasons were about what others thought of her and Willow's relationship. Tara knew they had things to work through, but she also sensed a need. She decided to approach Willow as she would anyone else. She went to where Willow was sitting on the corner of the bed.

Willow was startled when Tara knelt before her and touched her knees to get her attention. Willow glanced around to see if anyone was observing them. She was definitely starting to feel paranoid about everyone sensing their relationship. After the boob oogling earlier she didn't want to run the risk of being a topic of discussion or anyone's over active imagination. No one really seemed to be paying much attention, so Willow looked down at Tara.

She had a hard time figuring out where to look at Tara though. Everywhere she looked seemed to provoke strong emotions. Her eyes. Her smile. Her cheek bones and ears. Her hair – so soft and silky. Willow was quickly loosing her ability to focus and her eyes began the journey to now look down her neck to her. Stop it Willow I said no boob oogling. But they are so yummy, deliciously incredible, perfect and today so unconstrained. Oh gosh! This is just so awful. I'm so going to hell. Willow let out a sigh and closed her eyes. Why can't I be normal?

Willow could have sworn she heard someone say, "You are." But it wasn't from anyone in the room.

Tara took a few moments to gather her thoughts. She knew the girl was deep in thought and didn't want to disturb her meditation, but the pizza was getting cold. She was so proud of Willow for helping them figure out all the toppings, she would never have thought to do that. It was so logical, just the kind of thing that Willow would do. She prepared herself so she wouldn't let on to the other's her true feelings and then began.

"Rosenberg Shimai," Tara began, "Do you want a piece of Hawaiian?" She recognized the conflicting emotions that were showing on Willow's face. She ducked her head and looked up to recapture Willow's gaze. "You worked so hard to help us get it."

Willow realized Tara was actually helping her – in front of everyone. How is she so brave and able to be like that? Isn't this hard for her too? It must have been a fluke. She ducked her head in shame. "Okay." Her voice sounded small and wounded. She didn't move. She was still wrapped up in what she thought she'd heard and the feelings of shame for her desires.

Tara realized immediately what Willow must have thought but there really wasn't anything she could do about it. She got up from where she was and got Willow a piece of pizza. She came back across the room, sat next to her on the bed and handed her the slice. She said quietly, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I guess." She saw Tara had brought her over the Hawaiian and she blushed. "I guess you got my number, huh." She said as she took the pizza slice from Tara.

"Well I looked at the selections and knew you'd want the yellow." Tara did a slow half grin so only Willow could see it.

Willow thought for a moment that she'd misjudged Tara just a few moments before. She looked to see what type slice Tara had and realized she too had a piece with the pineapple on it. "You like Hawaiian too?"

Tara chuckled a little. "Well I never had this kind before, but I liked the color scheme. I seem to be doing a lot of that lately." Tara took a bite and raised her eyebrows at Willow almost unconsciously.

"Well, it kind of depends on my mood," Tara took another bite and a little cheese stretched out from the slice. She took a quick swoop with her finger and replaced the cheese back to its rightful place – on top of the piece ready for her next bite.

"So mood pizza huh, does that mean that you're in an adventurous mood, trying something new?" Willow now relaxed a little in their normal playful banter. "Or are you just decorating the color scheme of your belly?" She took a bite of her own.

Tara furrowed her brow in question, "decorating, what huh?" Tara inadvertently patterned Willow's phraseology.

"Well, you said you liked the color scheme, and since it's going in…" Willow nodded toward Tara's belly.

Tara laughed when she realized what Willow was saying and didn't let her finish, "No silly." I mean sometimes I feel like something new and different, sometimes I like the old reliable, sometimes I go for healthy, sometimes I go Spartan – cheese only – you know like if I feel fat and just want the tomatoey taste." She took another bite and so did Willow. This pizza was disappearing too fast.

"You know," Willow swallowed her bite, "You're starting to make me think I should try something different. I've never had veggie." She was almost done with her piece.

"There's never any harm trying something new, plus, if you don't like it you could let me eat it for you." Tara took another bite and tried not to smile. Food swapping, AKA germ exchanges, were a big step, unless you were already locking lips with someone. And she was thinking about that very thing. Tara chuckled again and shoved the remaining few bites into her mouth at once. The action earned a laugh from Willow who had just finished her piece as well.

"I'll get you that, you just sit there and…" Willow smiled again at the puffy cheeks, "chew." Willow turned to the group who were busy scarfing up their own pieces. "Anyone want to get a picture of Sister Squirrel cheeks?"

Colson looked up immediately and laughed as well. "Oh, that's too good, hold on there Squirrel Shimai." The camera was out in an instant and the picture taken.

Tara's cheeks were not only full of pizza, but now they were blushing red. She shot Willow a warning look. Willow just grinned with delight. On her way back with the two-veggie slices, she walked over near where Colson was eating. "I need a copy of that." Colson nodded in understanding.

Willow had grabbed a couple "napkins" from the pile the other three sisters had taken from the bathrooms in preparation for their meal. She had rested the pieces upon them. She handed the pizza to Tara on the flimsy "plate." This was about the best roughing it she'd done since arriving at the MTC. She took her place back on the bed next to Tara. "There sure are a lot of things on this, how do you taste the sauce?"

"Well these type pizzas are not so much about the sauce as they are about the combination of all the flavors." Tara explained. She was determined to eat this piece much slower. Not only did she want to savor the flavor, and she knew she might need extra room for any toppings Willow didn't want.

Willow took a tentative bite of her piece. She closed her eyes trying to determine if she liked all those flavors coming at her or not. She was just a simple girl. She liked things uncomplicated and organized. This pizza was absolute chaos. She quickly determined that the mushrooms had to go. She picked off the five that were visible and placed them in a tiny heap in the middle of Tara's piece. Tara smirked and spread the little pile over her piece.

Willow took another bite. This time she got a bite of zucchini. Something about the texture didn't sit right with her. She picked off three pieces and made a little stack for Tara. Tara grinned at the added toppings on her slice and again placed them strategically around on her triangle. She was no longer eating, now she was just waiting for more food placements from Willow.

Willow caught the grin out of the corner of her eye and realized that giving Tara toppings was much more fun for her than eating the piece. She looked down. Onions, red onions, green and red peppers and olives were left.

Willow started picking at her piece slowly, first a red then a green item and placed them one at a time on Tara's piece. Her gentle placement quickly gave way to light tossing. A tiny green pepper skipped of the top and landed in Tara's lap. She picked it up quickly and popped it into her mouth. Willow shot her a quick look.

Willow grabbed a red pepper and repeated the maneuver. This time the pepper made more of a straight trajectory and hit Tara's nightshirt before falling to her lap. Again she picked up the item and tossed it her mouth.

Tara looked down at her pizza. She gleamed with delight. She picked up a mushroom and gently tossed it in the direction of Willow. Willow had been looking for her next piece of ammo and didn't see the flying vegetable sailing toward her v-neck flannel shirt. When it hit her chest, it stuck for a moment before falling down through the valley below. "Eww," she almost slipped and called her Tara again, "that felt like a snail."

"You have snails leave trails there often?" Tara smirked with pleasure. This was the most fun with pizza she'd ever had.

Willow looked aghast, "No!" She looked down for more ammo and before she had a chance to select the perfect piece she felt another bull's eye hit on her sternum and a second mushroom sliding down, under her garments to the pocket between her mounds.

This time Willow wasn't taking chances. She picked up several tiny peppers and attempted to toss them toward Tara. Tara was ready though and caught one in her mouth like a circus seal. She grinned with delight. She was not ready for the rapid fire from Willow so the careful aim by the redhead toward Tara's chest backfired when it hit Tara in the cheek.

Tara gave Willow the most intoxicating look she thought she had ever seen. Tara glanced at Willow's now balding pizza and then back at her own overly stocked pile of toss-able goodies. Willow squealed when she saw the look in Tara's eyes. Willow thought for sure she was going to be pummeled with a barrage of veggies. Instead, Tara just grinned at her. She took a large bite of her pizza, never taking her gaze from Willow eyes. Willow didn't want to look away, for fear of retaliation, but with the way Tara was looking at her she was afraid she wouldn't be able to keep up appearances. She at least had to look like she was on the plan.

"What are you guys doing over there?" Sister Smith inquired. She'd heard the squeal that distracted her from her own pleasurable chewing and asked as soon as she'd swallowed her bite.

"Nothing," Willow and Tara said in unison and identical singsong tone. Both girls grinned back at Smith

Smith took a hard look at Tara, "Maclay Shimai, how did you get tomato sauce on your face?"

"It was an accident!" Willow quickly interjected. At the wrinkled brow responses she saw on everyone's faces, she knew she'd been had. "Well it was," She muttered almost inaudibly.

"Well it wasn't skill," Tara glowed with pride. Not like those mushrooms now nestled between her breasts. That's gotta feel just gross. Tara added in her mind. Just the thought made her laugh aloud, "Although the rapid fire was pretty good." Tara wiped the extra sauce of her face and licked her finger.

Willow's eyes went wide. She bit her lip and hoped no one saw the response. She had to keep up her cover. They were just friends.

"Well," Smith started in, "Just keep everything off the floor; I don't think they ever clean these rooms."

"Yes mom," again Tara and Willow were in synch which earned a hearty laugh from Colson and Conley Shimai.

"Is that what you do at night, practice sounding alike?" Smith was still pushing and it was starting to bug Willow.

Tara looked at Willow and seized the opportunity. "I said on my mark, what are you doing?"

Willow quickly caught on, "Oh, I thought that was the pre-timed sequence like the other one, I'm sorry, my mistake."

"Okay, well don't let it happen again." Tara looked back at the others and then to Willow. She had a mischievous gleam in her eye again and Willow loved this. "So you take my olives I'll do your peppers?" Tara said as a question about her pizza topping choice preferences, but Willow knew what she meant.

"Oh I agree, you can have too much of some things." The girls appeared to be going back to their previous conversation prior to their food tossing. The others resumed eating as well, "Just Hannibal or the others too?" Tara used a reference she knew Willow would understand.

"Oh I think we start there and see what happens. I would like to keep my other one out of it if we can, but yours are fair game. Willow responded to the code.

"Okay," Tara appeared to be picking at her food again and put a few olives on Willow's pizza so it looked like they had resumed their topping trades, not simply shifting their arsenal.

The conversation resumed with the other sisters, the frantic pizza frenzy had turned to a more relaxed late night munch-fest.

Tara was lost for a moment. The simplest little request could ignite a passion so deep she could hardly see straight. She lowered her voice again. "Ask me that again later." She tried to redirect her mind to the task at hand, "pre-timed?"

Tara casually flicked a pepper slice in the air. The trajectory was perfect. It landed softly within the giant blond Dolly Parton 80s sized hair. Willow had let her own arching shot fly a split second after Tara sent hers off. The olive landed a bit harder, but caught in Smith's hair after a few little bounces.

Smith thought she saw a fly out of the corner of her eye and started looking around the room for it. Tara stifled a giggle and let another one go. This one was a little short of the mark and Smith, while looking around for the fly, turned her head just in time to have it catch her in the chin.

"HEY!" Smith yelled, not realizing that Willow had shot off another right after Tara had. This one hit her on the lip as she yelled. "Come on guys…"

"Okay." Willow's response was quick, but the signal clearly recognized by Tara. Another volley was on its way. Tara's pepper bounced off the Teflon plastic coated looking hair and straight into Colson's lap. Willow's olive landed in Smith's lap.

Smith looked down to her makeshift plate and all she had was a lonely looking piece of crust. Although her armor was clearly larger, it was a one shot deal. She quickly considered her options. She needed reinforcements. She turned to Colson the collaterally damaged sister. "Little help?"

"Oh no, you're on your own. They've been plotting this for a while, look at their pizza." Colson had correctly assessed the situation.

"Come on, I'm grossly outnumbered, there are enemies on every side." Smith pleaded.

"You'll have to work that out in your companion inventory, and we'll deal with our own in ours." Conley offered.

Smith was panicking, "What did I do?" she said as another pepper and olive flew toward her. She swatted at them and accidentally connected sending an olive in a new line to Conley.

Conley took in the scene around her, looked at Tara and winked. Smith looked absolutely horrified. She looked to Kitchen silently begging for help. Kitchen put her hands up in neutrality. Conley looked down at her paper towel. She had an onion or two she thought she could part with and started to pick one off.

Conley let out a bark of laughter and tossed an onion at Smith. She dodged and the onion hit Sister Kitchen in the bangs lodging it in her hair. That little onion piece had flown over with a dribble of sauce which dripped off as soon as it landed in her hair. Kitchen looked like some one had stuck her with a pin.

"Now can I have some help?" You are my companion, you have to help and support me. That's what the rules say. Smith was begging now.

"Rosenberg Shimai is my companion too." Kitchen tried to explain. "Please don't ask me to choose."

Smith was whining now as another volley hit her from three angles. "She's off the plan, you have to side with me."

The comment made Willow freeze in the middle of her throw. The words cut her to the core. Tara let out a gasp. Conley and Colson just looked at each other in amazement.

The silence in the room was deafening. No one knew what to do or say to make the words stop sitting out there like an elephant in the room. Smith was just grateful that the barrage of vegetables had stopped.

Willow didn't trust her voice, but she was getting thirsty. They hadn't gotten drinks with the pizza so a trip to the vending machines was the next order of business and hopefully on the way back some mushroom extraction. Plus, she really just wanted to get out of the room for a minute and get her head back together. "Is anyone thirsty?" She was grateful that her voice had not failed her.

"I would love some water," Tara volunteered. "How about we call it an evening? We've probably had enough excitement for the night. And I think Smith Shimai might actually need a shower." Everyone glanced over at the blond.

She looked like a poorly made craft project a kindergartener might make. Colson tried not to laugh, but suddenly there was a flash and the blackmail photo had been taken. "We will not speak again of this incident."

Suddenly, a loud screeching sound shocked all but one of the girls. Conley stood and pranced awkwardly around the room flapping her arms and bobbing her head. Her hair still had the onion in it and it fell to the ground as her hair shook violently with her distinct chickenesque behavior. "Bagawk!…Buck, buck, buck…Bagawk!"

Conley circled the room several times until she settled in the middle and sat down. She actually appeared to be wagging an imaginary tail. "Bagawk!…Buck, buck…Bagawk!" The level of amusement in the room rose exponentially when she appeared to be picking up a freshly laid invisible egg.

The laughter in the room vaguely resembled a chicken yard at feeding time. The more the girls laughed, the more they sounded like a flock of hens. When Smith actually snorted, someone said "Stop,"

Conley finally stopped doing the chicken dance and the laughter eventually died down.

Kitchen was the first to regain her composure. "Okay, sometime when we are all more awake and not all ready to laugh ourselves into a coma, you will have to tell us what that was about. Right now though, I think we need to clean Smith Shimai up and see about going to bed. How does that sound with everyone?"

Tara looked at the group that was leaving, she realized it was now or never If she wanted something to drink. "Rosenberg Shimai, did you still want that drink?"

Willow could only nod. What had started out as simple thirst, now felt like a raging fire in her throat. She nodded to Tara that they could go for their drink.

"It looks like you'll be awhile picking, do you want anything?" Willow asked Smith.

"We'll just be a few minutes." Tara offered. Kitchen nodded and they were off in their different directions.

Tara spoke as soon as they were at the top of the stairs, "I'm sorry but that was just too funny." Willow was still in a little bit of a funk after what Smith had said about her. "After that remark, I'm glad we pummeled her. I know that's wrong, but food punishment is good when it's not fattening."

They were already near the vending machine when Tara spoke again, "What can I do to make it better?"

Willow looked over at Tara and sighed, "Nothing really, she just deflates me sometimes."

"She deflates you? Like you're a balloon?" Tara had an image of the girl pshhhhting across the room and giggled.

"What?" Willow turned to Tara and her mouth was ajar, Tara could see she was tired and stressed out.

Tara looked around quickly to see they were alone at the end of the hall. "What she said, that wasn't about this." Tara motioned between them. "That was about us not being in on time."

Willow hung her head in shame, "It doesn't matter." She looked at Tara directly in the eyes, "It doesn't matter what she knows or doesn't, what she thinks or what she says, it's about what I feel. I feel like I put you in a bad position, I jeopardized your honor. I am a vampire. It's too hard to go back. Maybe it would be better if we didn't spend that much time together." Willow took a deep breath, "It's really hard." Willow was near tears. "I see you and you're so close, and I just feel like there's no one else around." She took another breath, "I'm gonna slip. I don't think I can do this."

Tara stood still not wanting to stop Willow from expressing herself. "We can do this," Tara offered hopefully.

"No Tara, that's where we're wrong, today I realized that we hadn't even asked for help."

"I know that's not true, Wil," Tara put her hand out and grabbed Willow's pinky finger. "You ask everyday for help, you study and you learn and you try."

"How do you know that?" Willow looked puzzled by the confident look she was seeing reflected back to her.

"Because, I feel it," Tara started, "I felt it today when you were in the room. What were you thinking about?"

"And something changed when I came over didn't it?" Tara knew Willow needed a little prodding now.

"Yeah, I guess, but I don't know what to think." Willow was remembering what she'd been thinking before Tara touched her.

"Because it's not the answer you expected?" Tara felt like she had to ask the next question, "Or because you can't accept it about yourself?"

Willow was pulled a little out of her thoughts by the last question. "How can I be normal?" Willow asked as if Tara had been privileged to the entire internal dialog, and all the events leading up to the babble she was currently having.

Willow made a sound with her tongue when it dislodged from the roof of her mouth. She took another long breath. "Oh Tara, I'm so sorry. I can't seem to keep my mind…"

"Shhhh," Tara understood where Willow was going, and wanted to redirect her back. She looked at Willow with concentration. "What was the question?"

Willow was near a breaking point, "The last thing I thought was why can't I be normal." She leaned against the vending machines. "But how can this be normal, I mean I'm so, well, and you're so, and I can't, it just can't be, how can everyone be wrong? I mean I'd like it if everyone were wrong because well yummy, but oh, what am I saying, I can't talk to you about this." Willow turned to put her money in the machine.

"What was the answer, Wil?" Tara spoke softly into Willow's ear from behind her.

Willow felt the heat radiating off Tara. She suddenly felt calm, "Normal." Willow spoke in a whisper. She took a step back softly colliding with Tara and she laid her head back against Tara's shoulder.

Willow sighed. "Well I don't see how I can be, I was really looking at you and not feeling all that focused on anything but you."

"And you don't think looking at me is normal?" Tara began, "I look at you." Tara fought the urge to wrap her arms around the girl, but she whispered to Willow, "I looked at you this morning." Tara moved her head so she was touching Willow's cheek with her own. "And I liked what I saw."

The comment made Willow blush. "We really should head back, plus, mushroom, yuck."

"And that would be," Tara patterned her voice after Willow's. "Unacceptable," She said in a slumberous whisper. She pulled Willow to her in a soft hug her hands wrapped loosely around her belly one hand on top of the other. Willow felt her take a deep breath as if Tara wanted to inhale her. Tara felt overcome with emotion. Her arms moved up from Willow's belly to fold across her ribs and nestle snugly just below her breasts Willow felt as if she was now part of Tara's own protective self-embrace she seen so many times before.

After a few moments, Willow couldn't take it much more, "Tara we have to go back," she husked a labored breath. "Colonel Hannibal Smith is probably plotting some revenge."

I was kinda working on a scheme of my own. Tara thought. She fought back the intense urge she had to move her thumb just a little, or nuzzle her cheek against Willow's face.

"Plus, we need to destroy the evidence, don't want to have those four claiming they were framed in the great pizza debacle of 1984." Willow added.

"Well maybe that's just what we need." Tara was thinking aloud, trying to get her mind off the feel of her body against Willow's.

"Well, you know," Tara smiled and let go of the girl. She grabbed her free hand, "If you have a problem, if no one else can help…"

"And if you can find them, maybe you can hire…" Willow allowed Tara the honors.

Willow chuckled, "Oh, ooops." She turned and raced back down the stairs to complete the mission with Tara right behind her.

Willow and Tara returned from their beverage mission with their selected drinks. It was a few minutes before ten and they knew the day was winding down. They stood at the top of the stairs just a few paces from Tara's door.

Tara turned to look at her. She was a little bit puzzled by the remark and wasn't sure how to answer. She didn't want to deflate whatever had Willow so happy. Instead, she simply smiled, hoping that would elicit more information.

Willow saw the look on Tara's face and realized, again, how much she cherished spending time with her. They were so in sync, so right together, and Tara always seemed to know the perfect thing to say or do to make her feel better. Sometimes, it was just a look. A warm smile replaced the excited grin she had on moments before.

Tara blushed but didn't look away. "So you gonna go get the mushroom trail off your," she paused for effect, "you know?" Tara concentrated on looking at Willow in the eyes.

Willow tried not to melt under the intense gaze; she had to be strong for Tara. She glanced down at the flannel shirt she'd chosen to sleep in, "Yeah I guess I should." She started picking at imaginary lint on the colorful cotton shirt. She reflected for a moment on the irony of her flannel.

Tara looks so beautiful and elegant in her nightclothes. Here I am in the stereotypical, gay girl outfit – truck drivery flannel. Oh well, at least its warm and not sexy or anything, 'cause that would be bad, totally bad. Not that I think I'm all sexy or anything; 'cause, hey, red hair is not sexy- that's more girl next door. Cute…maybe a little, but only on a really, really, good day. I don't get that, why does she even like me. She is so beautiful; she could have anyone. Who am I kidding? Willow furrowed her brow and started to pout.

"You okay?" Tara interrupted Willow before her self-depreciation could begin. She guessed that rapid changes in Willow's demeanor might indicate some sort of internal struggle.

"Yeah, I guess, it has just really been a long day. Plus…pizza party, oh, I mean companion inventory with food chaser. We really didn't get into much more than what we need to get done on p-day next week. I know we're supposed to read the white handbook together, but I just didn't want anymore rules, ya know?" Willow took a breath. "And I have a mushroom, your mushroom, hanging out in my, well it's safe for now, and I should get it out of there," Willow sighed and trailed off. "but it's just so hard to go." Willow looked up a Tara. She cursed herself for her ever-present babble. Tara was just smiling at her.

"Why don't you stop me?" Willow tilted her head a little with the question. She didn't understand how Tara could be so patient while she rambled on and on.

Tara, still smiling, simply answered, "Why would I?" A silent snort of a chuckle escaped.

"Well it can't be very fun for you listening to me prattle on and on about nothing really." Willow hung her head a little,

"Who say's it's nothing?" Tara lowered her voice, "I think it's charming." A half smile emerged slowly across Tara's face.

A quiet little bark of laughter erupted from the redhead. "Charming, right," She rolled her eyes; Willow could not accept the compliment. She looked up to just in time to catch the twinkle in the gentle girl's eye.

Tara's voice dropped, "Well I do." Tara looked at Willow, searching back and forth from one green eye to the other with a beseeching look, "Don't stop."

Willow swallowed hard. "Tara," Willow tried to gather her thoughts, she didn't want to babble her way through what she thought she needed to say. She started again in a whisper, "Tara, do we need to, no that's not right, what do we, no that's not right either. I don't know. I can't make sense of this?" She waved between the two of them mirroring what Tara had done earlier by the vending machine. "I want to do the right thing for you and for me too I guess." She took a short breath, "We made rules," She trailed off almost defeated.

"We did make rules." Tara began, "but rules," she took a long moment, "rules, like ours, they have to be from the heart." She took a quick breath and whispered, "And right now, my heart just wants you."

They could have heard a pin drop on the carpet at that moment. Willow's mind was reeling; Tara felt relief.

Tara continued, "I don't know what to do about that, what that means for us, what that means for the future." She considered carefully how much she should reveal to Willow and decided she needed to be honest, "I've never felt this way about anyone. I don't know anything anymore. Are you a test or an answer? She looked up hopefully to Willow. "Are you real?"

Willow's mouth went dry; she took a sip of her soda while she tried to catch her breath. Willow looked around to see if they were still alone. "Oh, I'm real, I'm really real." Willow reached out with her free hand and grabbed a few of Tara's fingers. She entangled them in her own.

As she took a step forward, she lifted their hands so they were between them. She matched the movement Tara had made earlier that morning. She pulled Tara's hand up between them, carefully laid it over her heart and covered it with her own.

Willow closed her eyes and thought back to the moment when Tara had chased her lips and pulled her in to a warm embrace. As the memory took over, Willow was lost to the sensations. Tara felt Willow's breath hitch and her heart skip a beat. "This is real." Willow laughed a little, "It's just not timely."

Tara furrowed her brow not understanding the unexpected laugh. The only thing Willow said explained it all, "mushroom."

Tara smiled and stepped closer to Willow her hand still resting between them. She leaned in to whisper in her ear. Her voice was sultry and inviting, "Oh, but it was so worth it." She was rewarded with another involuntary gasp and heart flutter. "I'd better go."

Willow couldn't speak. She just nodded and watched Tara turn and walk to her room. When Tara disappeared behind the closed door, Willow went down the hall to the bathroom to extract the wet vegetable lodged in her clothing. After looking at herself in the mirror for only a moment, she shook her head. It was going to be a long night. She headed to her own room to get some sleep.

A few hours later Willow woke up. She turned over several times, and couldn't get back to sleep. She looked at the clock. It was far too early to get up to prepare for the day so she considered her options. She'd been neglecting her journal, her vocabulary, and her scripture study. Can't really flip a coin when you have three options.

Her companions were breathing gently in their bunks and she didn't want to disturb them. There was a just little light from under the door to see the floor. She quietly got out of her bunk. Even in the dark of the early morning hours, she knew where her things were on her desk, so she grabbed her notebook, scriptures, journal, and her pencils and went out into the hall. She wished she'd grabbed her apple, but there really wasn't enough light for her to pat down the desk in search of the fruit.

She took her usual spot on the couch in the lounge and settled in for some reading and solitude. It was so nice just to be alone and sitting in the quiet. The twenty-four-seven companionship was hard. There was just no escaping the constant audience of missionary life. Even shower-time was not relaxing since there was always somewhere to go, a schedule to keep.

Willow began to consider her situation. More young adults would arrive today to take their place in among the nervous missionaries drafted into service. Stateside missionaries would start counting down their three weeks, foreign speaking missionaries would begin their challenges of learning new languages. It was an assembly line really.

There was a certain prestige associated with serving outside the states. Although missionaries sent to Canada, they were an enigma. They were on the fence in the missionary pecking order. If you learned a language and had to go outside the country, somehow you were viewed differently that the others. Willow was fortunate to have been called to Japan. There would be additional opportunities available to her when she returned. However, right now, none of that mattered.

Willow opened up her journal to the last entry and saw the lyrics she had jotted down. The melody immediately popped into her mind. This was not a simple poem where the tune disappeared into an evasive memory. Her ode to Tara was actually a song. The thought brought a smile to her face. She thumbed through her other books and found a familiar paper. She opened it up and studied it. She thought back to what had happened just that day. They were not doing so well and it had only been one day.

It wasn't a perfect drawing, it wasn't supposed to be. It was symbolic of commitments she'd made to Tara. She started to criticize her work. The house was too small, the tree could have been bigger, but it was supposed to represent things, not actually be any good. She kept seeing things she could add, but the drawing was supposed to be simple. Focus on the mission; don't cross the lines, go to bed on time and no dark corners. Four simple little rules that would ensure they were successful in getting through this time together. The mission is what matters. You just have to be strong. Self talk so not the answer.

She leaned her head back on the couch, still holding the drawing. She did feel tired, but she didn't think she would be able to sleep. She reflected on the events of the week. It was the very first day when she saw her. It couldn't have been too long after she walked into the door. Since that time, she'd had several de ja vu moments. What did that mean? She thought to herself.

Tara. Every time she said her name, even thought her name it was like a whisper of hope. "Tara," she said quietly. It was like a mantra – soothing in simplicity, "Tara."

"Willow?" Willow could have sworn she heard her name. She was embarrassed she had spoken aloud. She leaned her head further into the couch. Fatigue was starting to take her. It was late and she should go back to bed now that she felt tired again. She was just afraid that the moment she got up, she'd be wide awake again.

"I'm here," she whispered and closed her eyes to fall asleep. Her head lolled to the side. And she thought of the beautiful blonde and allowed a smile to settle on her face.

"No." She said aloud before she realized that she was having a conversation with a voice in her head.

"You just want me to rub your neck again." Tara was at the couch. Willow turned toward the voice, her eyes mere slits as she struggled to open them to see if her vision was real or a dream. Tara looked at the girl. Her books were open and clearly, she had been up studying. Her eyes caught the color in the corner of her eye: Willow's picture. She was still holding it.

Tara knelt near the couch next to the girl who was clearly loosing the battle against sleep. In her position there settled on the floor, she felt strongly compelled to pray. This little waif of a girl had captured her heart in just a few days. Almost from the moment she saw her, Tara knew there was something cosmic about their connection. She just didn't know what that meant.

She had struggled so hard to put her feelings behind her, but the more she tried, the harder it seemed. She couldn't believe the intensity of the feelings and the need for intimacy with this girl. She had never ever had thoughts about these things before. She had never been remotely interested in even kissing anyone, let alone…She stopped her thought process. "Lock your heart," that was what they said in orientation. She did not understand how that was possible when you were supposed to be on a mission guided by love and light. Willow made those qualities in her stronger.

She whispered a silent request for strength of will. She needed to resist the temptation, but she didn't want to hurt the girl. She would not deny her. She couldn't disavow her feelings for Willow, that would be wrong. Willow deserved to know how much Tara cared about her. Even if it had been only a few days, knowing Willow was the most rewarding experience of her life, which was one thing Tara knew for sure.

As she knelt at the couch, her mind reflected over the events of the past few days. God, I think I love her. It wasn't a prayer, it was a realization. She suddenly had an overwhelming feeling of power come to her. She didn't understand it, but she knew it. That was the feeling you got when something was right. She also knew what she had to do next.

Tara rose from her place and quietly slipped down the hall, she returned a few moments later with some paper in her hand. She carefully removed the drawing from Willow's hand and began to write. After awhile she was finished. She neatly folded Willow's drawing and put it back in her scriptures. She put the folded papers she'd brought back with her and placed them inside as well.

Tara stood over the girl sleeping on the couch. A feeling of warmth washed over her. She leaned over and kissed her forehead. She breathed deeply just enjoying Willow's smell, "Sweet dreams, Willow," she finally whispered.

"…Night Tara," Willow muttered in her sleep, and she mumbled something inaudibly which Tara thought might have been, "you too."

It was well after midnight when Willow woke up from her couch nap. She was cold and realized she needed to go back to bed. She looked around at the items in front of her and realized things were out of place. She tried to think back to what she had been doing before she drifted off to sleep. She looked down at her hands and started to panic when she saw they were empty. Her books were closed as well and her pencils were not lined up in the rainbow pattern she usually obsessed over.

She inhaled trying to regain her composure while she considered that someone had violated her personal space. But something seemed familiar. A lingering feeling, a scent. Tara! She yelled so loud in her head it almost hurt. She laughed at herself for her internal outburst, and then curiosity began to take over. Tara had been there and touched her things. She flashed back to Tara's mushroom and laughed think how she'd wished Tara could have assisted her in the clean up. That was so unlike her even thinking such things. She tried to dismiss it.

Most likely Tara had come along, seen her asleep and just straightened up for her. She hoped it was Tara; otherwise, she was loosing her mind thinking she smelled her in the area. She quickly fanned through her books to make sure no one else had come by and taken the rules picture – although, they were in code. No one would realize what they meant if they had.

She saw a paper, but it looked like it had something on it. She unfolded her drawing and was surprised. It looked like someone else had been busy.

Willow stared at the drawing for a moment trying to figure out what it was. It was cute. And Tara made it and signed it. She contemplated the images for a moment and suddenly the fog of sleep lifted. Sheep on an island, oh, I know this one! Isle of ewe. Wow, she said, 'I love you.'

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Latter Days/Lonely Nights

by Willownut

Copyright © 2007

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