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.

Tara woke up that morning with a smile on her face. She felt light and free, like a huge burden had been lifted. She decided against going to the gym; she wanted some quality journal time. She picked up a few wayward peppers and olives she found on the carpet which were left over from the pizza fling the night before and giggled when she reflected on the Smith-sized veggie-bit collage.

She was content. Tara knew that they probably would not see the other three during breakfast. She wasn't going to gym class, so that would put her ahead of their schedule. Going to gym always slowed Smith down. She laughed silently again. Willow looked so cute flipping toppings at her companion. The events of the night before were still fresh in her mind.

She headed down the hall with her bathroom kit in hand. She rinsed her face and brushed her teeth. The salty taste in the toothpaste reminded Tara of the redhead's revenge for her coldwater caper a few days before. It seemed like a mild response for her prank, but she was grateful that the "punishment" had been light – although, a bit long lasting. The salted peppermint flavor in her mouth was not that bad, so more than anything it made her laugh. It could have been a lot worse. And the little note about being "the salt of the earth" and the reference in red. It was very cute and so totally Willow.

Tara spit. She was floating through her morning routine. She continued with her thoughts. That letter from Donny had really put things into perspective for her. It was straightforward really.

She remembered hearing somewhere once that the meaning of life is simple; find some "thing" that makes you happy and cling to that (or was it "forty- two?" I'm sure Willow will know what that's from). She knew it was more complicated than that, of course, a person couldn't just do one thing all the time, there were chores at home, work, relationships that needed nurturing, issues to resolve and so forth. Distractions were inevitable. Like Willow… Tara had been taught that finding happiness was something found by following all The Church teachings.

The Church itself, as an idea, was an abstract construct; but it was also substantive. It was an organization. It used activities, callings, and church functions to help members develop skills and strengthen relationships. It nurtured familial bonds and social alliances. Being Mormon was to be included in a large fellowship of believers. She enjoyed the feeling of belonging, and she felt the ideals for family togetherness had really helped at home. She wondered what things would have been like for her and her family if it had not been for church ideology.

As far as gratification, it offered at least one "thing" for most people. Tara liked the kids; they brought her joy. Their innocence was refreshing. Her responsibilities with them had given her a lot of confidence. They cared about her. That kind of love and respect was just what she needed once a week to keep her going.

The Church provided structure and routine. As a missionary, that structure and routine was intensified exponentially. Every hour had been accounted for in her day. Her only time to herself was right now, when she was all alone with her thoughts.

Several sisters had trickled in and were beginning their morning routines as well. Tara looked around at the growing number. I wonder if we can get 42 of them in here. Okay that would have only been funny to Willow.

When she was with Willow, Tara felt like she could be herself. She could say what was on her mind. She could make statements today and change her mind tomorrow. There's a freedom in that she thought. I wish Willow were here. Tara looked into the mirror. Is it an exfoliant type of day? Tara moved a little closer to the mirror and felt her skin with her fingers.

Tara was startled. She turned to see Kitchen Shimia looking at her expectantly. "No, just wondering if it was time to exfoliate." She laughed quietly. "Its just so dry here; how do you deal with it?"

"Oh, well, the red rock makes an extraordinary mud mask," Kitchen started to explain, "oh, who am I kidding? You and Rosenberg are the funny ones. I've got nothing."

"Oh, but you are right there with her. I can't keep up half the time." Kitchen got out her toothbrush. "Oh and, how's the minty freshness?" Kitchen motioned with her head toward Tara's kit as she started brushing her teeth.

Tara turned a few shades redder. She hadn't exactly figured out who was in on the caper and how Willow had gotten a hold of her toothpaste. "Well it's long lasting goodness." Tara gave a fake smile that signaled more her amusement at the prank than anything.

Kitchen saw the look and recognized it immediately. In a few moments, she started again, "Yeah I never would have thought of that." As she finished brushing her teeth, she seemed to be considering something and struggling whether or not to say anything to Tara.

"Well you know that cold water in the shower thing was pretty big." Kitchen looked back at Tara through the mirror. "I was just thinking that a little salt was a small price to pay." She looked down at her kit and put her items back in and turned to go. "I'd watch your back."

Kitchen came back out of the bathroom and caught Willow heading back. She gave her a quick smile and went back into the room. Willow turned and walked in. She saw Tara staring toward the door with a vacant look on her face.

She quickly looked around to check for sets of sister eyeballs; she didn't want to think who might be watching their every move. They were not alone so she'd have to be careful. She gave Tara a quick hello nod and smile. "Ohaiyo!" [Good morning] she said cheerfully. "O genki desu ka?" [Are you well?] She walked toward the sink where Tara still stood.

Tara thought for a few moments and replied, "Ohaiyo gozai masu. Hai, genki desu." [Good morning (more formal), yes, I'm well] Patterning Willow seems the best way to go when my mind is a total blank.

Tara looked at her kit. Kitchen had unnerved her a little bit. What were they planning? Seeing the redhead, she hadn't expected that bonus. "Sa! Shio ga ari masu." [I have salt] Tara picked up her toothpaste to remind Willow.

"Hai, so desu" [yes, true] Willow was running out of words she could say in rapid succession. She looked at her feet. "nihongo o hanasu koto dai suki desu." [I don't like speaking Japanese] She looked around and said slowly, "demo, minasan ga nihongo o dekimasen." [but, everyone doesn't do Japanese] She winked at Tara, "Wakari masu ka?" [(You) understand?]

Tara saw the gesture and slowly repeated in her mind what Willow had said to her. When she realized what Willow had said a moment of perfect clarity hit her. A huge grin emerged on her face, "Hai, wakari masu, ne." [Yes, (I) understand] Tara winked back and laughed, "Anata ni mucho benkyo ii desu, chica." [much (Spanish) study with you is good, girl (Spanish)]

"Shhh! Minasan ga wakari masen." Tara thought for a moment, "Bigu Burudu wa Barukurei ni hanashi koto o hoshi desu." [Big bird wants to talk to Barkley] She took a breath, "Bigu Burudu wa Barukurei ni honto ni suki desu, ii desu ka?" Big Bird really likes Barkley, is that good?]

Willow felt like too many words had been thrown at her. She recognized a few, but the sentence made no sense with all the missing definitions. "Nani hoshi?" [What want?]

Tara leaned over to whisper in Willow's ear, she closed her eyes when she entered her personal space. "Barkley." Tara waited a beat. "I want to talk to Barkley." She then repeated the last sentence for Willow as she backed away. "Bigu Burudu wa Barukurei o honto ni suki desu."

Willow licked her lips and then bit the bottom one. Even in another language she's…don't think it. Oh, who am I kidding? I already thought it. Yum!

Willow's thoughts gave her away. The raw emotion and need on her face was almost too much for Tara who stood looking at the girl. "I'd better go." Tara's resolve was breaking and her voice cracked.

"Yeah," Willow's inflection showed similar strain. Willow watched as Tara left. Once she'd turned the corner, Willow headed back to her own room as well.

"Yeah, I think so," she gathered up her notebooks. "Might not though, just never know."

"But you want to go and spy, right?" Smith Shimai inquired. "'Cause, this should be good, although I haven't figured out what to do with you yet…" Smith Shimai looked at Willow. She was trying to convey her annoyance, but it wasn't working. The food fight had been a good stress reliever and clearly, Rosenberg and Maclay meant no malice. Until then, she hadn't fully appreciated the planning that the redhead had done to get even with Maclay.

"She doesn't always open them right away. But we can go." Willow stood up to leave. "If we see them, we just need to make sure and leave a little space so she doesn't think we're watching." She felt bad for her part in the next phase of her get even with Tara plot, but she knew Tara would take it stride.

Smith and Kitchen quickly gathered their things and they exited the classroom together.

"Well I did my thing," Kitchen beamed proudly. She'd never been part of any plot or scheme before and it was kind of fun. "Plus the name is catchy, Operation Wet Red Revenge. It's classic."

The girls headed out toward the cafeteria. Brand new green bean missionaries were arriving which meant that lunch would be more crowded than their leisurely breakfast that morning. Smith was the first to spot the other three, and they quickly fell in line behind them. When the others turned the corner, Smith raced to the wall and peered around it. Willow was secretly amused at the display. This was good for them to all come together this way.

Once in position, the three all peeked around the wall; Kitchen went high, Smith in the middle and Willow below. Conley and Colson walked ahead, and appeared to be talking amongst themselves while Tara opened the small door and took out a letter. She ripped the smaller end and tried to pull out the note within. It seemed stuck so she blew at the paper.

Tara knew immediately that she'd made a colossal blunder. In a split second she thought, Never ever underestimate Willow. Her eyes began to water profusely and her nose tingled. She was helpless to stop it. The sneeze erupted with such force another volley of pepper blew out of the envelope from the blast of air that exploded from Tara.

Tara turned toward the noise just as another sneeze over took her. And another. After her fifth sneeze, the three sisters had made it over to add comfort to the struggling blonde.

Willow smiled as she handed tissues to Tara. She put on her best toothy grin and said nothing. Tara sneezed again as she looked at the adorable redhead. She held up her hand, but was unable to say anything as another sneeze threatened. "We can" sneeze, "go eat," Tara managed to get out. "Bud I'm mayging sure you geb rib of thoth," several quick breaths, "shaygers," sneeze.

Conley and Colson erupted in a fit of laughter. Kitchen and Smith realized that the damage already had been done. And Willow simply smiled. "Okay," she volunteered. She's so gonna hate me.

The girls headed over toward the cafeteria after everyone checked their mailboxes. Willow wasn't surprised hers was empty, and she decided to stop looking. She would check it on p-day instead. That way there was only one day of disappointment a week instead of six. The sisters started out in rows of three, but eventually they ended up in their normal pairings.

Tara walked quietly beside Willow, "Eigo de hanashi mo ii desu ka? [May I speak English?]

Tara lowered her voice and slowed down a little to allow the others some space ahead. "I-I can't believe you did that."

"Oh, I did that days ago, before, you know." Willow was unable to convey her reference point without potentially alerting the others.

"No, I didn't mean it like that, not that you did it, that you found a way to do that." Tara tried to clear her head by shaking it a little. "How did you know? How did you do that." They had arrived at the cafeteria and were making their way through the line.

"Oh," Willow started to reply about technique and then realized exactly what Tara was asking. "OH, well, um, okay, I've been watching you." She took a little breath, "For days."

"I saw the way one of your letters was opened; it was on your desk." She continued, "When you don't raise a flap, then there's only a couple ways to get it out. If the paper is folded just right, it will mold against the form of the inside, plus a little tape never hurt." Tara didn't seem mad at all. "But once the letter was sent, there was no way to get it back. Event in motion, you know."

"Uh huh," Tara anticipated babble, but really didn't get it, "And my shoes this morning? When were you in my room?"

"Well, um that was actually this morning, when Kitchen Shimai was distracting you." Willow knew she was busted, but it still felt okay. There were no long-term effects, except for the salty toothpaste.

"Well you know this isn't over, right?" Tara prodded. They were now almost through the food line.

Willow was a little apprehensive, but the pranks were working out in their favor, it was better than companion-inventory with Smith. She simply nodded.

As they were walking over to find a table, Tara started again. "And I wanted to ask you a question." Tara seemed hesitant, but Willow coaxed her with her eyes. She continued, "I was thinking about the meaning of life this morning before you came into the bathroom."

Tara laughed and quirked an eyebrow, "well…," She held out the word. "No…I haven't heard that one before.

They had arrived and took a seat seating across from each other. They didn't even notice they hadn't paid attention to their companions. Willow's simple reply was met with another crooked smile, "Oh, pity."

"You will tell me about that in a minute." Tara responded and then she continued. "I couldn't think why I knew this but I thought the answer was 42."

Tara looked at her, "I told you; what's the meaning of life? I thought maybe it had something to do with the 'Mikey, he likes it' guy from Life cereal commercial."

Willow saw where she was going. "No, not the Life cereal commercial," She gave a patented Willow smile. "The answer and the question can never both be known at the same time. If they were both known it would destroy the universe and something even more bizarre would be created."

Tara gave a funny little rabbit face showing her front teeth and furrowed her brow, "What?"

"It's from the Hitchhiker's Guide, you know," Willow nodded, "The meaning of Life is 42, but we can't know the question or the world as we know it would be destroyed. And that would be of the bad." Willow concluded her lecture. "And now, we must continue in Nihongo, or we will not be able to speak…" She looked around, "in front of everyone." She gave a little wink and a smile. "We have mucho studying to do. Tonight?"

When the door opened in the classroom, all eyes turned to see who was coming to visit. The woman hastily glanced at a paper in her hand and glimpsed at the girls' nametags. She handed Tara a note and left as quickly as she'd come. Tara palmed the pink memo and scanned the words. Then she checked her watch. She didn't have much time. A feeling washed over her; she just wasn't sure what it was. There was no time to prepare; she just had to get through the next several minutes.

As her mind began to process the implications of the note, the room seemed to cloud over and grow distant like everything had been sent down a tunnel. The words coming from the instructor sounded a little like Charlie Brown's teacher. The thought amused her for a moment as she impersonated the noise in her head. Wa wa wa wa wa wa. The small grin disappeared as quickly as it had come. Focus Tara! What was it Willow had said? "We need to accept whatever obstacles are placed in our path. If we have faith we can make it through." She whispered a wordless prayer for wisdom, strength and guidance.

She silently motioned to the girls that they should join her. She wasn't sure when she would return, so she motioned with her head toward the clock on the wall, and shrugged meekly. Conley caught on quickly and decided to gather her things. Tara followed suit, as did Colson. They headed out the door and out into the hall.

"Maclay Shimai?" Colson asked. She showed concern in her voice. She'd never seen anyone get a note during class, let alone be called out of one. She was seriously troubled. Conley matched concern, but didn't have anything worthwhile to add so she remained quiet.

They traveled in silence toward the front of the building. There were many new missionaries arriving and it was absolute chaos. Conley and Colson held back allowing Tara a little privacy in case she needed it. Tara approached the desk alone and handed the slip of paper to the woman behind the counter. Then she waited.

The woman scanned the note, nodded and handed it back to Tara. "Keepsakes," the woman smiled warmly. She reached for the phone and pressed a button. Tara presumed she had just announced her presence. "You may go sit in the lounge," she smiled up at the three girls again and gestured down the hall.

The three walked slowly down the hall. Conley was first to speak. "Sore wa 'kipuseki' nara ba, ii desu ka." [If that is a keepsake, it is good?]

"Yosh!" [great!] Tara beamed at Conley for using the new "if" sentence structure they had learned that morning.

Conley tilted her head when she heard the exclamation from Tara. She rarely sensed that level of enthusiasm from the girl and wondered if she was nervous. She pointed to the chairs, "dozo." [go ahead] The three took a seat in the lounge to wait.

The girls had taken the chairs across from her. She suspected they wanted to gauge her mood, to see if she was nervous. She actually was, but she didn't want them to see that. She glanced down at her pile of books, let her hair fall and let her mind drift.

She assumed this meeting had something to do with the note she'd left earlier. She couldn't actually remember if it was yesterday or the day before. She knew right now that she wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything of substance. She grabbed her notebook and a pencil. She opened to the last few pages and read over her recent comments. It was covered with Willows. A plethora of Willows. Tara smiled at the thought. She absentmindedly started to doodle. She tried to reconstruct the past few days in her mind.

She had arrived a week ago and met Willow. Willow had been so cute babbling that first day and then when she tried so hard to use the chopsticks only to realize that peas, carrots, and mashed potatoes might be her undoing. There was just something about her; Willow excited her on a different level than anyone had before. Then that night they had talked and gone back to Willow's for some "light" scripture study. Tara had sensed right away that she and Willow had a connection.

Tara reflected back. It had been instantaneous with them. Their first full day at the MTC, Willow had socked Sister Smith in the nose. She'd gone by that night under the auspices of study, but really, she just wanted to check on Willow after the debacle of a day she had had. The pranks she was currently enjoying from Willow started from her decision the morning of the third day.

It was that third day they were set apart. That was the last time she sat in this room. Willow had admitted she was looking at Tara. The attraction between them was obvious and she wondered if any of the others suspected things were heating up between them. Tara couldn't remember why they hadn't had their thumb-wrestling match yet, but maybe that was better. Holding hands with Willow might lead to other things…

Was it really only the third day they had all posed for that picture? The feeling of Willow stretched in front of her on the bed for their six sister's pose came to mind. Tara closed her eyes as warmth washed over her. She allowed the event to progress to its conclusion in her mind. She chuckled quietly at the image of Colson diving across the bed. The moment was bittersweet. Touching Willow was never long enough, but the intensity of the girl's eyes immediately following their de-spooning – that look permeated her soul.

Sunday, that had been the infamous cold water on Willow day. It was another moment pushing her into forbidden territory. She hadn't taken Sacrament that day. She had struggled, she remembered, with her internal conflicts throughout the day. That night she'd learned about Willow's color coding system. Was that the chocolate cake analogy day? She didn't really remember much except how impressed she was with the way the other girl's mind worked.

The fifth day: that was p-day. She hadn't really spent that much time with Willow, but the nighttime…she always looked forward their evenings together. As she tried to reconstruct the day's events, she remembered how Willow had been stuck in the front row with the other sisters in their Devotional. They ended up at the vending machine that night, or was that technically the beginning of the sixth day? Oh well, at least I waited an appropriate interval before I kissed her. Tara laughed at herself. Oh, who am I kidding, I wanted to claim those lips the first day I met her. She's just so…

Okay, so that kiss led to our rules and the note I left on Wednesday – which was yesterday…Wednesday was also Donny's letter and pizza. It was when I read Donny's letter I realized just how much my heart revolves around her. Tara glanced at her little drawing and laughed. She hadn't realized how deep her feelings were for the redhead. That letter from Donny and his words of wisdom were an inspiration to her.

Tara knew only a few things. She couldn't deny her feelings and she could not betray Willow. There was a little conflict however. Temple membership required purity in thought and in deed. She knew her mission was simply an extension of those vows. As she pondered her situation, she continued with her doodling. It could be about something else. The fact that she was worried about a Willow discussion made her realize that it still was an issue. For about the one hundredth time that day Tara repeated her new mantra: What would Willow do?

Ha! Panic! That's what she'd do. She'd think of all the dire consequences. In Willow's world, that pink paper might be the last keepsake she would have. She would want to give Tara a reminder of why she was leaving. The thought saddened her, she didn't really believe it could be that bad, they hadn't really done anything too drastic, but Tara knew in her heart, she had wanted more of Willow than a few discrete kisses. If it was about intent and she talked about it, she could be in trouble.

What was she really worried about? As she mulled over her recent thought process she realized it didn't have anything to do with Willow at all. Tara knew she didn't have much more time before she would have to meet with the Mission President to discuss her concerns, but she really didn't feel apprehension anymore. She was hopeful. Willow and she had made a plan. They were following the rules and everything. She thought that perhaps she'd jumped the gun making an appointment to see the Mission President. When the door to the office opened, Tara stood up with confidence. Just like any other interview. Just pretend you're talking to dad.

"I'd love to be a fly on the wall on that one, and I feel bad about that just so you know." Colson admitted.

"Yeah," Conley shook her head, "Me too, but she'll be fine." Conley considered for a moment. "She has us, and we'll be there for her no matter what."

That comment earned Conley a second glance. Colson hadn't really run through all the different reasons why Tara would be called to the office, but she was suddenly more than a little concerned. "Gosh, I hope everything at home is okay."

"I think we just need to be strong for her and give her whatever she needs. If she wants to talk to us about anything, we need to be ready to listen, and if she doesn't we can't push." Conley looked back to her study books that had kept her distracted while they had been waiting. "Benkyo vokabu?" [Study 'vocab?']

Colson laughed, "These green beans are going to have no idea that we can't really speak Japanese – that we just add "u"s to the ends and other vowels in between to everything. And that thing with the semi silent "u" that's totally cool." She chuckled a little bit more, "and in your case, you go so fast even in English, they'll never have any idea you aren't fluent in Japanese." She was still giggling for a few seconds after her comment.

"Right," Conley held out the word, "We have a long way to go, and I bet when we get there, it will still feel like it did yesterday in class. Totemo wakari masen." [Totally, do not understand.]

"Totemo," [Totally] Colson said in confirmation. She giggled again, "We sound like a bunch of little Japanesey Rosenberg Shimais. Shimai, shimai tachi" Colson made a faced when she confused herself, "Is that plural?"

Conley was stuck for a moment, "No, not plural. It's just implied – like sheep." Conley distracted herself for a moment trying to come up with another English equivalent. "English is weird," she finally concluded.

"Fer sure." Colson chose another California beach phrase she'd heard once or twice when the redhead mocked the language styles of the teens in her state. The conversation tapered off.

"Hai, dozo,"[yes, go ahead] Conley waited while Colson tried to work through the wording. Conversations often came to a screeching halt when Japanese was required.

"Rosenberg Shimai to Maclay Shimai wa…doshite no doryo desu ka?" [Sister Rosenberg and Sister Maclay…(she meant) why are they not companions?] Colson did the best she could to convey the question properly, she knew it was probably wrong…but maybe Conley would get it…She hoped. They were all trying so hard to speak Japanese, but it was tough.

Conley looked at Colson and easily interpreted her meaning. "Wakari nai," [Don't know] She chuckled a little, "Sore wa misuturi desu." [It's a mystery (English with Japanese flavoring)]

Tara finally exited the office and nodded to her companions that it was ok to go. It was too late to go back to class so they headed over to the cafeteria to get a jump on the dinner crowd. Tara said nothing as they walked back to the dining area. The fog she'd experienced earlier that day had returned. She needed time to process what had just happened. She felt numb.

Tara flashed back to a pre-mission interview she had with her Bishop. It was the same warm smile and handshake, "Hello sister, what can I do for you?" It was such a benign question, so disarming and serene. She wondered why they didn't ever ask how she was. When her Bishop looked at her, it seemed as though he knew everything about her, all her strengths and weakness rose to the surface for him to see. She always felt transparent with him. She couldn't lie.

She thought back to the proverbial kindly gesture toward the chair on the "passenger's side" of the desk. The chair was always a little less comfortable; she felt off balance. They seemed so majestic in their own chairs as though they had a mantel of authority not given to regular people. Tara was on a ride and she wasn't driving. This wasn't a roller coaster ride, this was a high-speed street race with hay bale barriers, scenery and possibly funny round goggled thrill seekers steering their old-fashioned sports cars.

She didn't even remember walking back from the office, through the line, or sitting down with her companions. She was waiting for the cloud cover to lift, for reality to shift back into place. She looked down at her food selection: a small salad, corn and spaghetti. She couldn't understand what had prompted her to put the Russian dressing on the greens. She'd never even tried that kind before.

She barely noticed when the room started filling up and a bubbly redhead sat down directly across from her. Colson had moved over to let her take the seat in front of the quiet blonde. Tara was picking at her corn when something green landed in the center of the pile. The little wayward pea broke her trance almost immediately. Tara didn't realize that Conley and Colson had saved room for the other three to join them or that they had signaled to Willow to come over.

Tara was hiding behind her hair. She didn't really look up to see where the pea had come from; rather she scanned the trays around her to see who had selected them for a list of suspects. Seeing no peas except for those on the tray in front of hers, she quickly glanced to see if it might have been intentional. The first thing she saw was a beaming smile.

Tara motioned to her pea and abbreviated her question, "Nan desu ka?" [What is it?]

Willow thought as quickly as she could and said quickly, "Riro pi ni korun kurunaru desu." [It's a Willow pea (English) with/on corn kernel(s) (English)]

Tara didn't recognize anything Willow said and she looked frustrated. Willow sensed her distress immediately. She locked eyes with Tara, "Watakushi no pi." [My pea] When Willow said pi, she winked at Tara. Tara looked like she was catching on. "Riro" she lowered her eyelids a little bit to denote this was a personal message. "Riro pi," she watched Tara look back down at her tray. "Riro pi ni tera no korun kurunaru." [Willow pea on Tara's corn kernel(s)]

"Oh," Tara picked up the pea with her chopsticks, "Arigato. Riro pi ga suki desi." [Thanks. I like Willow pea.] Tara had replied almost absentmindedly which earned some concern from Willow, but she was undaunted.

"So," Willow began after a moment, "nani ui desu ka?" [What is up?] She grinned when she said the sentence fluidly. "We learned directions today." Willow was about to bounce herself right off the bench. "I kinda practiced that in my head a few times." She admitted. "I couldn't wait to try it out on you." Willow blushed a little.

Conley was watching the exchange with interest deliberately not listening or rather trying to translate the dialog mentally. She knew if she were upset, seeing the girl would probably make her feel better. Willow was almost cheerful to a fault. With Maclay, it always seemed to have the desired effect.

Tara finally lifted her head and looked toward Willow. When Willow got a good look at her, she was mortified. Something had upset her Tara. Every instinct told her to reach out and touch her, but she was across the table. They were not alone. She couldn't think of a thing to say. After a little internal debate, she realized showing appreciation was all she could do.

"Pi? [pea?] Tara watched as Willow carefully picked up one pea. She held it up with her chopsticks as if in offering. Willow quickly glanced at her chopsticks and the lone pea she held carefully between the two pieces of wood and then stared back to Tara's eyes. "Arigato – por la ohashi lecciones." [Thanks – for the (Spanish) chopstick lessons (Spanish)] Willow hoped the poor use of her new-patented Jaspanglish would meet Tara's approval. She wasn't disappointed.

As the half smile slowly emerged on Tara's face, Willow beamed with joy. Eigo de hanashi mo ii desu ka? [Is it okay to speak English?] Willow really wanted to communicate with her girl, and even in her best Jaspanglish, she knew too much meaning would be lost. She needed all of her skills to perk up Tara.

"I'm really glad you smiled, because I wondered how good my aim would have been – ohashi de." [by chopstick] Willow glanced briefly toward the proposed target and smiled. "You know I still need to get even for that mushroom incident after our doryo inventory." Willow licked her lips unconsciously and her tongue poked out between her teeth.

Willow looked at Tara's food selection. As Tara lifted a grouping of noodles up to her mouth, Willow commented quietly, "Pretty color scheme."

Tara's eyes drifted around her tray to review her food selection as she was putting the noodles in her mouth. When she realized what Willow had seen, she grinned, and slurped a wayward noodle. A drip of red flew toward Willow from the whiplash. When the noodle whipped back around, it caught Tara on the chin living a tiny line of red sauce.

Willow was in the process of touching a spot on her cheek just under her eye. She looked at her finger and realized what had happened. After a quiet snicker, Willow looked around at the others who were all engrossed in their food. She gave Tara a half grin of her own and sucked on her finger. Then she nodded toward Tara with her chin. She motioned with her finger onto her own chin, but Tara appeared to be confused. After a few attempts mirroring personal sauce removal, Willow finally reached over and wiped the red away. She glanced around again to ensure she had a modicum of privacy and licked her thumb. "What? Five second rule should apply there."

Tara blinked. No matter what, she always makes me smile. Tara shook her head, closed her eyes for a moment and resumed eating. I really need to talk to her, but it can wait.

Willow sat quietly in the lounge area waiting for Tara to finish getting ready for their study "date." She could tell at dinner that something was bothering Tara, but she wasn't able to talk to her then. It was so easy for Willow get lost in her own thoughts. She didn't want to think up too many scenarios but her mind had a will of its own. It would only take one thought to spark the internal Willow babble. She had to concentrate. No babble. She scolded herself.

If I get all panicky, I won't be able to help Tara when she comes over. I can't work myself into a frenzy that would be bad.

She took a deep cleansing breath and tried to run through her lessons while she recopied her notes. Today had been directions, some verb forms and if/then…She wasn't sure what color if/then should be. As she glanced over her color scheme, arranged in progressive order yellow through blue, she finally settled on a color. Okay, let's see, sentences with If/then. If Tara's still upset, then what?

When Tara arrived, she smiled. Willow looked like a little girl sitting at the coffee table. She was concentrating on something and tapping her orange pencil. Her tongue was out just a little as she studied the text. Tara flashed for a moment they'd been sitting together with Willow absorbed by her "art." The rudimentary little picture certainly served its purpose. She wouldn't have remembered her own rules so clearly without them. The last time she'd sat in the same place, she too was making art, this time for Willow, an expression of love for her. Tara closed her eyes for a moment. This might be hard. She had to make sure Willow didn't feel betrayed.

When she felt strong enough she opened her eyes. Willow was wearing her flannel pajama top and a pair of sweat pants. Safety first; good job Willow. She admired Willow for sticking to the plan. Tara was also wearing a pair of sweat pants and her jersey shirt. The temperature in the lounge was always cool enough that her sweats were a better choice than her actual sleep wear. She felt a slight chill and wished she'd brought her zip up sweatshirt along just in case.

The flannel top reminded Tara of the prior evening. The events of pizza night seemed clearer in her mind today. Some days moments with Willow seemed more real. She recalled leaning to look at Willow's topping list and she realized just how strong the attraction must be for Willow. Willow's quiet gasp of breath, the look, and the intensity she felt from the girl. It was so much to absorb. She remembered holding her own breath and trying to remain steady so she didn't' let on to the others that there was something bubbling between them. She wondered if that was guilt or fear.

Willow looked up and saw Tara watching her. A gentle smile appeared and she blinked slowly taking in the vision before her. Except for a wayward hair or two captured by a single bobby pin, Tara's hair was down. Her hair rested loosely around her shoulders. It looked soft and recently brushed. It framed her face and in the muted illumination of the evening dorm light, gave her a radiant glow. How does she do that? Every time I look at her, she takes my breath away. Willow unconsciously covered her heart with an open hand. She stood up to welcome the girl.

Tara saw the gesture and tried to minimize the significance of the gentle movement but she was finding it hard. Willow had pulled her hair back in a ponytail, her features accentuated by a few loose hairs that fell forward across her brow and the contours of red hair and sun freckled skin. Even in the yellowed light of the lounge area, Tara could see the sparkle of love and hope in Willow's eyes. Tara wanted to rush and close the distance between them, but that wouldn't be a wise course of action if she wanted to remain true to her goal. Instead, she smiled warmly and returned the token of affection.

Tara took a breath and bit softly on her lower lip. She'd never really done that before, but Willow did it so often when she was around her, it seemed like her own mannerism. The pressure registered how sensitive her lips felt and she sucked on them for a moment. She puffed out her cheeks and let go of her lips in a small flourish. Just seeing Willow caused so many new sensations for her, sensitive lips not withstanding.

Willow stood watching Tara run through some sort of lip calisthenics and she chuckled. Willow's dimples appeared first and a closed mouth smirk emerged shortly there after. The expression was interrupted by Willow's question, "You just gonna stand there, or you gonna get your butt over here to study?" The transformation was instantaneous as Willow's face erupted with cheerful enthusiasm. Willow's tongue poked out between her teeth in jest. A wide grin replaced the closed mouth smile.

Without a word or moments hesitation, Tara walked over to the couch, set her things down and turned to face Willow. There was so much she wanted to say. She didn't know where to start.

"Kon ban wa." [Good evening] she said after a brief silence. She dropped her hands to her sides and bowed slightly from the waist. She lowered her head and closed her eyes in reverence. After a few seconds, she returned her gaze to the gleaming green eyes fixed upon her.

Willow responded in kind, "Kon ban wa," and returned the obeisance. She remained downcast a bit longer than Tara had. Truth be told, she was taking a moment to think what to do. Was Tara setting a tone, or was she simply practicing her skills? So many questions. So many angles to consider. She was unnerved.

Before she had completely lifted her gaze, Willow said mostly to herself, "Wish I was psychic."

Tara, still looking at the top of Willow's head, registered the softly spoken words. She sat down on the couch and glanced down at the hem on her Jersey sleeve. She noticed a spot on her sweat pants too and decided to study that later if needed. She considered the comment and decided to respond, "That's probably not such a good idea."

The answer startled Willow a little. She shook her head as if to clear the inner cobwebs. She realized she really needed to listen and Willow babble was not an option. Willow remained standing for a moment and then slowly took a seat. Her heart was aching and she didn't know what to say. She blinked a few times and started carefully. "If I say anything, then I might ramble. And I don't want to drown you in my prattle, so I'm going to try to be quiet."

Tara's eyes felt heavy, but she also was a little amused, "Just how many synonyms are there for babble?"

"Oh, it depends on whether you're including adjective form or just nouns or verbs, although some of the verbs I don't think should count and I'd have to disagree on some of the words they use as synonyms. If you're going strictly by word count in a book or something, I think there were about 20 or so under each category and there is some duplication across lines of speech so I wouldn't count those anyway. And some of the connotations of the so-called synonyms don't actually capture what it is that I do, so Willow babble may need to be patented and redefined by more modern lexicographical works. I usually stick with three to four so I have proper variety in conversations but not more so I don't appear stuffy, because you know if you use lots of different words for the same thing, sometimes people just think you're showing off or too smart for them. Of course, the fact that I actually looked it up, probably means something anyway, so maybe that's not good." Willow furrowed her brow as she considered the implication. She looked up to see a gleaming- eyed Tara with a crooked smile staring back at her. "You did that on purpose didn't you?"

Willow frowned. "You knew I was trying not to babble so I could listen to you and you just went right ahead and revved it up. It's like it's easy for you or something." She stopped for a moment and continued when Tara didn't respond right away. "I wanted to find out about your day, you seemed upset earlier and I was worried. That's why I wanted psychic powers, or at least a little empathy, so I'd know, you know?"

Willow put on her best resolve face. Tara could tell Willow was going to be trying not to speak more than was needed. "Everything, but specifically…what happened today?" Willow sucked in her lips as if she was attempting to hold her words from escaping.

Tara was torn. She didn't feel ready to have the conversation with Willow. She was afraid she would upset her. Willow's reaction was important, so she needed to be careful that she didn't push Willow in the wrong direction. She took a small breath and really looked at the girl. Willow's eyes were beseeching, and loving, and showed concern that she'd never felt from anyone else, not even her family. Willow wanted inside. That's what she had meant by wanting to be psychic. "It would be easier without words." Tara said quietly to herself.

"What would be easier without words?" Willow wanted Tara to come back from whatever place she had gone.

"I had a meeting today." Tara began but faltered. Where was that spot? Tara looked down at her sweat pants. She secretly hoped Willow would latch on and be lost to the internal babble so she'd have more time. She was disappointed.

"And?" Willow dipped her head low enough to catch Tara's eye as she looked for the invisible spot on her pants. She looked up at Tara from below and begged her silently to continue. She motioned with her fingers to her lips that she was locking them and put the imaginary key in the pocket of her flannel top. She patted the pocket, but when she felt the sensation, she blushed a little realizing she was touching herself in front of Tara. She repeated the question, "And?"

"I had a meeting today with President Shepherd…" Tara watched Willow's face as she processed the information before she continued. Willow appeared to be in shock, so she waiting until she could tell Willow would hear her. After Willow made a quiet grunting noise, Tara knew she was ok to proceed. "I just thought I should talk some things over that I was concerned about."

Willow's voice was barely audible and she began looking for invisible lint on her sweats. "What kind of things?"

Tara could tell Willow was struggling to make sense of her declaration. "Well, initially I thought I should talk to him about my feelings," Tara paused again and dropped her voice, "for you."

Willow was flabbergasted. She closed her eyes and waited for the other shoe to fall. Okay Willow this is so "not about you" right now. You have to be strong for Tara. Time to put on the supporto girl hat. Suck it up. Willow opened her eyes, but didn't look up. She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but she was afraid of the answers. All she could squeak out was, "oh."

Tara searched Willow's countenance for some way to talk this through so it wouldn't upset her. She started straightway, "Initially." She reached out and touched one of Willow's fingers, "But…events in motion, you know?" She rubbed her thumb across Willow's knuckle. "Like the pepper." Willow's stare turned to watch the gentle fingers touching her hand. She was thankful for the contact; it was a necessary distraction for her.

"I've always been taught there are two ways to deal with things: active and reactive." Tara continued, "Some people are reactive and by then it's too late to change the course of certain events. You may get into situations you're not prepared to handle. If you are active, you can plan and consider consequences before you're in a position where you have to react. That's why our rules are so important.

"So when I sent the note to meet with President Shepherd, my thought was that he could offer me some direction in how to work through this challenge." Tara moved her hand a little to capture a second finger. "…our challenge." Tara claimed another finger. "I didn't expect…" Tara wavered in her resolve.

Willow, still concentrating on both the touch and the words, realized that Tara seemed anxious. She felt unusually calm, so she was glad for that. She looked up to see Tara had let her hair fall in front of her face. With her free hand, she tucked the hair back behind Tara's ear. She wondered if Tara wished she had not worn the bobby pin so the blond curtain would have hidden her completely. "You didn't expect what?" She whispered.

Several moments passed before Tara began again. "When I was sitting there, I looked around the room, ya know." Tara had found a distraction of her own. "His name is Howard."

"Yeah." Tara waited a bit and then resumed her current train of thought. "I kept looking at his name while he was discussing my "problem." I was rearranging the letters and stuff, like a game."

"Spoonerisms, you know, Howard Shepherd would be Showard Hepherd. Showered. Hah." Willow had amused herself.

"Well, no, but that was kind of funny considering how much trouble I've had with showers since I met you." Tara was embarrassed at her admission and quickly moved on. "Actually, I was thinking: "How hard?"…"Shep hard," like it was a commercial for luggage or something. Then I was thinking about the irony that he was like a sheepherder, which is fine and biblical and stuff, but I know a thing or two about sheep. They are smart, but they are followers – they are reactive." Tara let the comment sit for a minute. "And we are supposed to be sheep?"

Willow was torn, the study girl wanted to find all the references for Tara so she could put her mind at ease, but she resisted the urge. She searched through her mental database. Sheep better than goats, beware of wolves in sheep's clothing, scripture chase reference that there are other sheep, feed my sheep as a missionary it is a directive, I am the good shepherd. "Yes, I believe within the context of the gospel that as a metaphor, sheep are good."

"Huh, as a metaphor, okay." Tara filed the thought and continued. "When I was sitting in the lounge waiting, I kept wondered what I would talk about. When I made the request, I hadn't read the letter from Donny. I thought what I was thinking was wrong, that I was just being weak and this was just a distraction from the work."

"No, not about you. Well, not you exactly." Tara wanted to clarify, "I thought I was just being weak, and breaking rules, and then trying to justify it." Tara looked down again as if just to pause, "I couldn't even go a few hours after we made our rules…"

"Tara, we've done really well. That was the only time, you know, since that first time." Willow defended Tara.

"But you did stop. You walked away, and it was just a little, it wasn't bad." Willow took another breath but before she could continue, Tara cut her off.

"I didn't stop." She looked right into Willow's eyes and grabbed the last finger taking possession of Willow's whole hand, "In my heart I never stop." The last sentence came out as a whisper.

"Oh," It took a minute for Tara's comment to register. "OH!" The second oh came out much louder and the look of shock was apparent on Willow's face. Willow felt the blush radiate from her cheeks, down her neck and beyond.

"So I thought I should talk about the content of my heart." The phrase was not lost on Willow. "I guess I just didn't expect all the questions, all the assumptions from him." Tara trailed off as if remembering the conversation.

"What did he say?" Willow placed her other hand over Tara's, which was still holding hers.

"He said God judges the thoughts and intents of the heart, and that this is a test, and if I remain on this path regardless of my actions, that I could face challenges with my temple membership. And if I act on these feelings I could be sent home and excommunicated. At least that's what I got from it." Tara held tightly to Willow's hand. She felt like Willow was her anchor.

Willow repeated the words Tara had said several times in her mind. "What did you say?" Willow managed to squeak out.

"Well after I heard "regardless of my actions" I was kind of speechless." Tara placed her second hand along with her first so they were joined together. "But when he said that what I feel isn't real, that only real love is between a man and a woman, well, I kind of lost it."

"He said that?" Willow was stunned. "I can't believe he said that." Willow tried to process what President Shepherd had told Tara, "Oh Tara, I'm so sorry. What happened next?"

"He wants to see me again next week. And I know he's going to ask all those questions again." Tara looked down, "I know the answers he wants to hear."

Willow was afraid to ask what the questions were, let alone the answers, so she remained silent for a few moments.

"Tara," Willow tried her best to be strong as she said the rest of her thought, but her intent was clear, "Whatever you need me to do for you I will."

Tara was finally able to tell Willow, "I'm not supposed to see you." She let the words sit between them and watched Willow closely as she processed the words.

After what seemed like several minutes, Willow still hadn't responded. Tara wondered if Willow was lost in babble and needed a rescue. "Are you okay?"

Willow jutted out her bottom jaw and then stated without much conviction, "Well, currently I'm busy being trying-not-to-whimper Willow." She took a shaky breath. She knew what she had promised, but she didn't expect that she wouldn't be able to see Tara. She wasn't prepared for that.

"Come on." Tara removed her hands and patted Willow's leg. Then she stood up. Willow assumed their study date was over so she started to get her things. "No leave those, we'll be back." She firmly gripped Willow's nearest hand and helped her up. Willow was surprised when she didn't let go and led her slowly around the table and out of the lounge area.

Instead of going down the hall toward Tara's room, they went the shorter distance toward Willow's door at the opposite end of the hall. Tara turned the corner and took Willow on the other side of the dorms. "Donny always says you should take different routes to places. I never understood why though. I think he would have been a good explorer – well if there was anything new left to find."

Willow was committed, so she didn't object, but she was puzzled by the conversation and the adventure. "Well there are always new things to see in places you've never been." That was the only thing she could think to say.

"That's right." Tara suddenly turned at a door and opened it. "You've never been here before."

Willow's eyes went impossibly wide when Tara opened what appeared to be an occupied dorm room. "Tara!" Willow yelled in whisper. As Tara pulled her just inside the room, Willow whispered again, "What are you…?" Tara released Willow's hand and Willow gasped when Tara closed the door behind them.

The room was dark and there were no sounds in the room. Willow waited a moment trying to adjust to the light. Tara walked to the center desk and turned on a small desk lamp. It barely illuminated the desk area let alone the room. She turned back to face Willow and quickly closed the distance between them. They were actually alone.

"I'm not supposed to see you." Tara repeated the comment she'd said earlier as she stepped closer to Willow. She dropped her tone. "And I really want to…" Tara moved closer to Willow and dropped her tone again as she focused her eyes on Willow's lips. "Regardless…" Tara's voice was breathy.

"Tara?" Willow was trying to focus on Tara, but she was edging closer to her. "Oh Tara…wait…wait." Willow put her hands up and they landed on Tara's waist.

"Of course I feel it. That's not even a question. But this is your life now, not just a moment." The words came out with much stronger conviction than Willow felt. Her resolve was wavering. The texture of Tara's jersey shirt on her fingers warmed by Tara's rising temperature was becoming an unbearable temptation.

"So is this 'carpe diem' for tomorrow you're going home?" Willow wasn't sure what had changed for Tara. Her attitude had seemed so different just a little while earlier.

"Nope," Tara took another step toward Willow. "But we are taking a moment if you want to." Tara looked deeply into Willow's eyes to see if there was any resistance. "If there is no difference between my thoughts and my actions, then I want you to know…"

"But Tara I do know. There's nothing for you to prove." Willow was so afraid that if Tara did this, then she would regret it.

Tara reached up and touched Willow's cheek. "I know the consequences," Tara whispered, "I have a week to figure this out, but I know one thing…" Tara reached around and freed Willow's hair from its ponytail. "This is more real than anything I ever imaged. And if he's wrong about that…" Tara carefully dropped the ponytail holder in Willow's front shirt pocket, "then maybe you're right."

"What about the rules?" Willow tried one more tactic just in case Tara was unsure. When Tara started stroking her hair, she knew the battle was lost. Her eyes closed in submission to her touch.

Tara leaned in close to Willow's ear and whispered softly, "no regrets." Willow felt Tara breathe in her scent before she continued, "I have to follow my heart." Tara used her cheek to caress Willow's face. Her skin was so smooth where they touched. Tara switched sides feeling Willow's right cheek against hers. Tara continued to feel Willow's neck and hair and face with her right hand. Her mouth fell open as she relaxed into the feel of their faces touching. She gently moved her lips to Willow's ear, "And no rules."

Willow thought she was going to lose her ability to stand up. There were tremors racing through every fiber of her being. Tara's sensuous caress was driving her mad with desire. She hadn't even kissed her. She never wanted the moment to end. She didn't know what the new rules were…or what if there really weren't any? What did she want?

Willow pressed her face back into Tara's cheek. She felt the soft silky skin so gentle against her own. She repeated the movement Tara had earlier and switched sides. She was careful not to get too close to Tara's lips on the way past. Instead of moving further back toward Tara's ear as she had done, Willow pulled forward so she was touching Tara's jaw with her cheek. She let her mouth fall open and turned her head to feel Tara's face with her lips.

Tara was in heaven. When Willow started responding by matching the pressure against her skin, Tara stopped having to repeat "regardless" in her head. She was lost to the sensation of Willow. Her mouth still hung open, her breaths were uneven, and her neck felt like rubber. Wherever Willow moved, Tara followed. When Willow pulled away, Tara nearly cried out.

Willow closed the distance between them and for a moment held her lips just of out reach. She raised her head closing the gap just a little, but never connecting to Tara's lips. The heat was rising between them and the pull was too great to resist. Willow captured her lips in a tender kiss. Even though she thought her heart would beat out of her chest, this moment wasn't about unbridled passion; this was an exploration of the love between them. Willow knew Tara understood that.

Willow still had one hand at Tara's waist. The cotton jersey felt soft and she was playing with the material. She pulled away from Tara for just a moment long enough to ask the question, "No rules?"

Tara responded by reaching up with both hands and threading her fingers through Willow's hair by her ears. She moved her right hand in an arc feeling her hair and circling back around her ear, across her neck and up under her chin. She moved her fingertips across Willow's still parted lips, "No rules."

Willow closed the gap between then again. She took Tara into her arms and turned them so that Tara had her back against the door. Her next kiss was hungrier; it betrayed her inner most desires. She greedily sucked on Tara's lips and teased her with her tongue. She broke away, moved to Tara's ear and nibbled lovingly on the lobe. Willow kissed Tara's neck carefully so she wouldn't leave any marks. When she found Tara's lips again, she also touched Tara's garments on her stomach. Willow felt Tara's stomach quiver.

Tara didn't remember Willow un-tucking her shirt, but she was elated with the feel of the warm palm against her belly. Willow slowly moved her hand around to Tara's back and pulled them closer to together. Although Tara liked the feeling of Willow pressing her against the door, she didn't mind the shift. It felt to Tara like Willow was everywhere.

When Willow's hands reached her back, Tara felt the soft scrape of short cut nails combined with a gentle kneading. She wondered how anything could feel any better than that. The thought made her swoon and it nearly brought the both of them down. She tried to move them both toward the bunks, but Willow stopped them.

Willow knew it was one thing to give in to temptation of smoochies and quite another to get too comfortable and lose themselves to passion and desire. Willow removed her hand and brought it to Tara's face. "I'm not ready." Willow said simply. She kissed her gently and then continued. "I don't want to do…" Willow motioned with her eyes toward the empty bunk, "…that, if I think it's because I'm only going to get one "moment" with you."

Tara considered Willow's hesitation. It was Tara's turn to widen her eyes. She hadn't realized that she was moving toward that level of intimacy with Willow. The idea hadn't even crossed her mind. She was just enjoying the closeness and feel of Willow. "Oh, no, I'm not ready either." Tara thought for a moment, "But if I was ready, then I'd want to be ready with you."

The comment earned a chuckle from Willow. "I guess we just made a new rule." Willow took another deep breath, more to cool herself down than anything, "And tomorrow we can find out if the moment was, well you know, just a moment or a beginning."

Willow's hand was still on Tara's face. She smiled as she felt the soft downy skin under her caress. She moved the pad of her thumb slowly across Tara's cheek bone. Willow stared with loving intensity into Tara's eyes. "I'm not ready," Willow repeated her prior statement, and took another step toward Tara. She stepped slightly to the right of Tara before moving in a little bit closer, "but I'm so not done." Tara licked her lips unconsciously, her eyelids relaxed into a slow blink when she heard the sensuous declaration. She felt weak.

Willow tucked her fingers into her palm and continued to feel Tara's face with the sensitive skin between her knuckles. She moved her hand gently down Tara's jaw line and she changed direction moving below her face to touch her neck. Willow shifted her gaze to watch her hand traverse the contours of Tara's skin. She extended one finger and softly traced along the line under her chin, down her throat to the sensitive shallow at the base of her neck.

She extended all of her fingers again feeling the sides of Tara's neck and reaching the edge of Tara's hairline, twirled the softer hairs there. Willow played with a few strands before moving her hand back down the way she'd come. When she had returned to the soft "V" above Tara's sternum, Willow flipped her hand again this time using just the tips her fingers to stroke ever so slowly along the top of Tara's t-shirt.

Tara stood perfectly still feeling the caress and getting lost in the sensations. She closed her eyes. She took a breath that revealed her inner tremors. Willow felt Tara's breathing change when her hand moved just under the hem of her jersey collar. Willow stepped closer, she rested her left hand just above Tara's hip. She applied a little pressure and Tara moved back up against the door. Willow gently guided Tara to relax against the door. Tara felt like she would fall, she was enraptured by the simple feel of Willow's loving touch.

Willow moved forward again. She positioned herself comfortably against her. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of her, every nuance, every curve, and every inch where they connected. Willow dropped her head and rested it on Tara's shoulder. She wanted to feel, really feel Tara.

When Willow's head fell to Tara's shoulder, she was broken from her own trance. For the most part, she would have fallen were it not for Willow and the support of the door. Tara moved her own right hand to the small of Willow's back. She laid her hand flat against the cotton and felt the warmth of Willow's rising temperature. She extended her hand trying to get more contact, but it wasn't enough. She gently pulled Willow closer. She moved her left hand and positioned it on Willow's upper body and tried to draw them closer. Tara couldn't get enough.

Tara had never been so close to another person, she was lost in the sensations running through her entire body. She felt weak, but she felt strong, confident and yet afraid. All the fears and insecurities were rising to the surface and in Willow's touch they seemed to disappear. She felt more alive than she ever had in her life. And she knew that this was just the glimpse of what could be ahead.

Tara wondered if she'd know what to do if they ever did get any closer than they were at that moment. With the thought, a shudder went through her. It felt like electricity and she was warmed from her feet to her head in an instant. She gasped with an open mouth as the feeling washed over her. The intensity of emotions overwhelmed her.

Tara took over the lead. She didn't care if she didn't know what do to, she just wanted to feel Willow. She pressed every part of her body against her in response to the heat. In a hasty movement, she turned Willow and pressed her against the door using her legs and upper body to hold her in place.

With both hands released from the embrace, Tara threaded her right hand into Willow's hair and encouraged Willow to look up at her. Willow surrendered to the commanding touch. Tara took possession of Willow's lips in a heated kiss. Her left hand landed at Willow's waist and Tara caressed the sensitive areas she'd tickled only days earlier. The touch prompted no giggles from the redhead, this time; the only response was a hungry exchange at her mouth. Tara felt Willow's chest heaving in response to the stimulation and her desire only multiplied.

Willow thought she was beginning to see stars. She was so caught up in the sensations, the feel of Tara everywhere, she couldn't think; all she could see was Tara. All she could feel was Tara. All she could smell was Tara. All she could taste was Tara. She felt Tara's hand on her waist and the passions rising from her girl. She was afraid they were going too far too fast, but she couldn't help getting lost in the feelings.

Then Tara's kisses changed. No longer were they unpredictable and irregularly spaced which had kept her swooning with anticipation, they had become rhythmic, like Tara was responding to some inner drumbeat. Willow easily joined in making this unheard music with her. Willow was starting to lose control. Her pulse was rising, her mind alit with fire and passion for Tara. Her body was thrumming in response to the intensity of pleasure. She knew if they didn't stop now, she wouldn't be able to hold back.

She needed time, time to process the turn of events, time to consider what this all meant for her and for Tara. Most of all she needed time to make sure Tara wasn't just reacting to the meeting with the mission president. Inside an inner battle for control was being waged. Willow had to choose right now: forget about the lines, the rules, anything that resembled willpower, and let Tara have all of her or choose to be strong and fight the primal urges. She wanted so much to succumb to the passion that threatened to erupt between them. But they both had to be sure.

Willow knew she hadn't even begun to question what all of this meant for her faith. And she didn't want Tara to wake up with any regrets for indiscretions. She needed a plan. The only one she had was a little bit drastic. She knew it was risky for both of them.

Willow returned both of her hands to Tara's upper back and pulled Tara as close as she could. With her right hand she held tight, and she let the left hand cross slowly down from Tara's left shoulder blade, down across to the small of her back, where she made small circles scraping gently with her short nails for a moment before continuing on her journey south.

Tara wasn't certain what Willow was doing, but the feel of her touch on her back was so sweet and loving, she ignored the fact that Willow's hand appeared to be going somewhere. When it stopped, Tara resumed focus on kissing Willow, but that hand had continued. When she felt Willow's hand slide down below her waist, she became distracted and lost her rhythm.

Tara pulled away from Willow's lips when she felt the sudden pressure on her behind and took another sudden gasp of breath. Her eyes showed a slumberous expression which Willow matched as she gazed into her eyes. After the unexpected yet sensual squeeze, Willow dropped her hand lower. She continued her torturously slow caress until she reached Tara's right thigh. She stared intensely into Tara's eyes conveying the want and desire she felt.

With a soft touch she moved once up and down the side of her leg before reaching around to the back and placing her fingers in the center between the two muscles. She pressed firmly and pulled up.

Tara was totally unprepared for the jolt of energy that radiated outward from her center when Willow seized the nerve in her leg. She nearly lost her balance, but Willow was holding her tightly.

Willow took a step forward, bent her knee, and took them both to the floor in a swift fluid motion. Before Tara even realized what was happening, Willow had cushioned their fall with her left hand. She moved her right hand to the back of Tara's neck and ensured Tara landed softly. She landed in position nestled in place straddling Tara's legs. She then carefully lay Tara's head down and rested on both of her arms with Tara below her.

Tara's hair lay about her. Her mouth had fallen open in shock, but quickly relaxed in preparation for Willow's impending advance. Her eyes wide in surprise, softened in an instant when she looked up into Willow's eyes. She let go of the breath she'd been holding and felt a new sensation of warmth. Willow slowly drew her hand to Tara's brow and removed the confining bobby pin that held the last restrained hairs. Still positioned above Tara, she reached slowly toward the pocket of her flannel top and dropped the hair pin in where her imaginary key had been placed for safe keeping a while before and her elastic ponytail band after that.

Tara flashed back to the moment earlier when Willow had placed her "being quiet" key in her pocket. She remembered Willow's blush when she had patted their private token. Willow hadn't babbled since. In fact, she was mostly silent and the last thing she'd said was that she wasn't' ready; yet here they were, looking and feeling very ready. Well, technically she'd said she wasn't done, but she had said she wasn't ready. The realization make an impression on Tara. She had to ignore the pulsating need and do the right thing for Willow.

Tara resisted the urge to pull Willow against her so she could feel the pillowy softness of her lithe body. She resisted the urge rise up and embrace her to feel the soft alabaster skin. She wanted to touch her, hold her, stroke her hair and kiss her. She wanted to love her, to explore every inch of her, to taste her, to devour her. The temptation was colossal. She resisted with everything she had.

Tara closed her eyes trying to regain her focus. She took a deep breath and pursed her lips. She was glad they were on the floor so she could concentrate on the hardness. Her discomfort was actually a blessing. She tried to dismiss the images that were flooding her mind: to touch, to feel, to love Willow. To watch Willow. She tightened her eyelids in concentration.

Willow watched the play of emotions on Tara's face. She was waging her own battle. She had to be strong for Tara. Tara's faith was different then hers; it was rooted in family and history and tradition. Willow didn't have that. Her faith was based on hope of normalcy, hope of belonging and hope for fellowship in what she thought would be a solitary life because of her issue. She had placed her hopes in a future most likely beyond this existence of all the things promised. In this life, she was defective. She couldn't pull Tara into that.

After a moment, Willow reached out a finger and touched the indentation at Tara's throat, "You know, this is called sorbilia maphonensis." She let her finger stay in place.

Talking, she's talking to me. Tara was surprised and realized in an instant what Willow was up to. "And that is?"

"It's a pretty word for the jugular notch at your sternum." Willow began, "But doesn't it sound better in Latin?" Willow flipped her hand over again as she'd done before and began stroking Tara's face, rotating her hand and fingers along with every contour.

"Well some things do sound prettier in different languages." Tara began, "But not everything. I don't really like the sound of Willow in Japanese, except when it's just us and we're," Tara paused for a moment. "Well, you know, talking, just us, in a crowd…but sneaky. But the others, they'll catch on, so Barkley is my favorite. Because that's just 'ours' you know."

"I like having things that are just ours." Willow was getting lost in the touch again. Her hand had moved to the "V" at Tara's Jersey. And she was starting to absentmindedly play with the material.

Tara was watching Willow intensely. She felt the tender touch, and she was safe. "Me too." Tara's response was barely audible.

"Tara…" Willow began her voice barely more than a whisper, "I really do want to…" She moved her finger just under the material to feel Tara's skin with the tip of her finger. She pulled back the material a little exposing a little more flesh. She flattened her hand to feel the warmth.

"It's more than that. I mean…yeah…but it's more than that. I'm worried about us, and what happens if…" Willow closed her eyes when she couldn't continue.

"I know there are a lot of what ifs." Tara tried to run through the many scenarios that could be troubling Willow. "And right now, I really don't want to think about that."

Willow reopened her yes and looked beseechingly. "But Tara, there are things to consider. We can't go back, I can't go back. Now that I feel you, I just want you more." Willow was starting to break. "And this is just a moment…" She closed her eyes again.

Tara sensed Willow was struggling with where they were going in the relationship. Was it a relationship? No wonder Willow is afraid. We haven't defined "us." Tara reached up and unbuttoned the very top button of her jersey shirt. "I don't think this is just a moment." She undid another and stopped. "I don't want it to be."

When Willow opened her eyes to respond she noticed the buttons. Did I do that? How could I have done that? Willow replayed the recent events, No, I didn't do that. The opening exposed the silky garments below. Tara reached up and drew back her shirt and garments exposing a small area below her clavicle.

"Moments don't last, right? Tara questioned. Willow just nodded. What is she doing? As Willow was trying to process, Tara moved her shirt and garments exposing a little more area for Willow. "I want it to last." She nodded to Willow showing her own resolve. "I want to remember this feeling, your touch, these moments forever." She pulled back a little bit more conveying silently her unspoken request. "Just ours."

Willow scooted down, she was still nestled snuggly between Tara's legs. "You're sure, this could show through."

Willow kissed Tara tenderly on the lips, and then moved to Tara's ear and nibbled for a moment before laying a trail of kisses down Tara's neck. She ensured that as she moved down to position herself over Tara than she maintained contact where ever she could. The movement only served to reignite the fire for Tara, but this was not about satisfying needs. This was something else. This was about trust and commitment.

As Willow's mouth approached the smooth skin she extended her tongue and painted a glistening trail across the bone and onto the area just below. The touch was torturous for Tara. She couldn't wait for Willow to mark her. Willow placed her hands a little above Tara's stomach feeling the ribs through the soft cotton material. "May I?"

The closed eyelids and slight nod of silent approval gave Willow carte blanche. She latched onto the smooth skin and tasted. Tara threaded her fingers through Willow's hair and held her firmly against her chest while Willow worked on the mark. Tara enjoyed the feeling of Willow's lips on her skin. The little shock of pain gave way and was replaced by a very pleasurable sensation. Willow seemed to be learning as she was going along which she found endearing. She observed the girl alternate between caress and gentle bruising. Willow fell into a rhythm. She was getting lost in the sensations again and Tara pressing back toward the sensual kiss.

Willow fought the urge to gain leverage on the area by lifting Tara's breast. Tara's responsive thrusts were just so much. Willow's temperature started to rise again and her breathing changed while she worked the skin to a light purple color. She tentatively reached up to feel the soft forbidden skin just along the base.

Tara felt Willow's thumb hesitantly touching above the ribs on her waist. And she was amused by the shy redhead. She appreciated the fact that she'd all but offered herself and Willow was taking things slow.

When Willow felt she had finished, she lifted her head to examine her art. Her eye brows raised high when she saw what she had done. Tara saw Willow's face and tried to look, but the angle was all wrong. This was a job for a brighter room and mirror – preferably with no one else around.

"Come on," Tara grinned. "Let's go see your art." She grabbed Willow's hand. Tara winked at Willow, rolled her over quickly, planted a kiss on Willow's forehead, and got up off the floor. "And those naughty little thumbs so need to be punished." Tara buttoned up the jersey just in case any one was on the floor. They casually left the empty door and headed toward the bathroom for a look.

Willow had run ahead of Tara into the bathroom. She checked under each door and looked inside each shower stall just in case. Tara followed in behind and went to the mirrors. She looked to Willow for confirmation that they were truly alone. When Willow nodded, Tara tried to pull back her jersey shirt to evaluate the love mark Willow had left for her, when she couldn't see it she shot Willow a glance and shifted her gaze toward the entrance. Willow understood the nonverbal request and responded with a reminder of her own. She looked toward the second entrance. Tara would need to hurry, just in case.

Tara slowly unbuttoned the top button of her cotton shirt, carefully drew back the collar catching the neckline of her garment in one motion and pulled down to reveal a very large hickey. Willow was watching in anticipation. Tara ran her finger over the mark to see if it felt different on her skin. Her lips turned up a little when she when she touched it. Then she looked at Willow with a lopsided grin, "Kitsune."

"Uh huh, that's actually the right way to say it." Tara laughed, "I guess my teacher is better than yours." Tara resumed looking at the mark. "I may need a refresher for this keepsake. Where will you be next Wednesday?"

"Oh, well I'll have to check my calendar. Did you want me to put something in my date book?" Willow started washing her hands. Just standing in the bathroom seemed kind of weird; she preferred the lounge where there was no echo.

Tara let go of her hold on the jersey shirt and undergarment and then lifted just the jersey shirt away and tried to see in the mirror if it was visible through the material. "Can you see it?" She turned toward Willow, with her t-shirt still pulled back.

Willow's eyebrows went up. "yeah." She sucked in her lips in thought. "Uh…um…you're gonna have to cover that." Willow appeared to be in thought for a moment; Tara resumed inspecting the evidence of their earlier adventure: looking in the mirror, and feeling the skin. She actually was proud of Willow's efforts. "Do you have any makeup that would work?" Willow inquired.

Willow was shocked by the Tara's statement, "What? Tara, no, you can't, you have to hide that." Willow was trying to study Tara's face to see what she was saying, but Tara was still turned toward the mirror. "Tara?" Willow's voice was just above a whisper.

Tara wanted to choose her words carefully so Willow would understand. "I don't want to cover it up. I know I can't, we have to hide it, but if I cover it up then you might think I'm not proud of it."

Tara continued, "This is something that is just ours. And I'll be careful with it, but I'm not ashamed of it." Tara glanced at the clock; they still had a little time. "Plus I don't really have anything to cover it with that wouldn't rub out on this." She ran her fingers along the lacey texture on her garment. "And a band-aid would look pretty funny there – plus – hello miss jumbo size." Tara's face erupted into a toothy grin.

Willow smiled back, but after she contemplated Tara's statement for a moment she continued, "Tara, it's not worth the risk, what if someone sees it? What if it's an accident, like when you're half asleep or something? I never expected you to put your mission at risk. It's the mission that matters."

Tara knew what Willow had said, but Willow needed to understand. "Come on, let's go." Tara went out toward the lounge area where their books still sat untouched. "Grab those." Tara was taking charge and Willow complied.

Tara collected her books as well. While she waited for Willow to gather her organized lineup of colored pencils, she smiled from her heart. Her face showed it; she was completely content. When Willow had everything in her arms, Tara began to leave the lounge area; she was heading back toward Willow's dorm room again. She was walking fairly slowly, so Willow matched the turtle's pace.

Tara began carefully, "The mission does matter." Tara looked down as she walked, "But so do you and I. I don't want to sound all "Saturday's Warrior" or anything, but," Tara stopped and turned her body toward Willow, she shifted her books against her chest and clutched them tightly, she was still looking down toward the floor when she asked, "Would you wait for me?" Tara had spoken quietly, but Willow heard her.

Willow had been so busy thinking up the drastic and impulsive actions, she'd failed to realize that they could take time, a lot of time, to grow and change and become the people they had hoped they'd become when they signed up for their missions. Willow's mind raced. Could we do that, be apart and then really together, together? Would we change too much? Could we really do that? How could we do that? We could plan, yes, there could be planning, that might be ok. The Church, maybe it would be too much. Maybe…Maybe she means a longer wait…

In Mormon terms, what Tara had just done was the equivalent of a proposal of sorts. She wasn't sure if Willow realized it. Tara knew the statement might provoke a lot of internal babble. It was actually a fairly safe suggestion. There was little likelihood that Willow would meet someone else at least not right away, and Tara was pretty sure that her feelings were real enough to risk any amount of time apart if Willow agreed. She wanted Willow to think about that too. She hadn't really given a particular time frame, so that was also something she knew Willow would fret over. Willow was cute that way, always thinking out all the different scenarios.

She loved watching Willow like this. The lights were on in that brain of hers, there was a play of emotions running across her face at record speeds, her mouth usually fell open a little as realizations and connections were made. She hoped that her reaction would be favorable.

The rules talk had not gone as well as she had hoped. She didn't want Willow to feel bad for the way she felt about her, but she'd drawn the pumpkin and it nearly broke Tara's heart. She never wanted to hurt the girl, but the ache she felt had put things in perspective for her. She wanted to obey the rules for both their sakes – so neither one of them would be in a position Tara found herself in now. In a week she would have to face President Shepherd when he asked her outright if she was physically close to the person for whom she'd said she had feelings. And what if he asked for Willow's name?

The idea of Tara and her both completing their missions had seemed so important before she got the letter from Donny, but she wasn't that sure what to do anymore. If they did not finish their missions, it would reflect poorly on both of them, not to mention her family. And how would her family respond to this announcement. This had been weighing on Tara's mind the past few days.

"Hey mom, I met someone really special…Yeah, I think I am. Oh, I know it's kind of soon, but we have so much in common, and we connect so well…

The next image Tara created was that she was standing next to a grave site. She'd killed her mother with her phone conversation. Her brothers and sisters all were distancing themselves from her. Her father only scowled. And Willow? This was where the nightmare was fuzzy. Was Willow there or not? Would it help if she was or only make it worse?

Then the tribunal: a handful of men asked her the same probing questions about her sexual appetites to establish the depth of her perversion. They would determine her membership status or even forbid her activity within The Church. She hadn't shared that with Willow. She knew Willow would only get angry or worse, upset for her. She knew Willow would start thinking she was a vampire again. She really wasn't. I was the one who kept bending the rules, the one who was weak.

The intrusive questions of the president had furthered her resolve. The inquisition seemed almost voyeuristic, but she'd felt calm when she went in, and answered them honestly. No, she hadn't had sexual relations, inappropriate touching on any of the places he'd specifically asked about. When he started asking her about the length of time she held on in hugs and if they were full body hugs or not, and how many women she'd been with before she came to the MTC, she was offended. And when he asked her how many girls she was attracted to on the floor; that was just rude. If that's how he thought, how could he possibly think their love was real.

He probably realized he'd blown it when he used the term "regardless." Tara wondered if he had secretly wanted her to fail so he could hear all the great details at their next meeting. She also wondered if he'd orchestrate meetings with anyone else to determine who the love interest was.

Tara closed her eyes trying to rid herself of the images that had been troubling her: the mission president's words, the images of her family. She knew that her family and friends had dreams of her getting married in the temple, having children, full fellowship in The Church, but it didn't feel right anymore. The only thing that felt right was Willow.

They'd made a plan and she intended to stick to the plan, more or less, so she could answer honestly. She felt a little guilty, but the litmus test was being pure in heart. And with Willow, she was. Her feelings for Willow were the real, no matter what he said.

Several moments had passed between them. They stood still in front of one of the doors. Willow could tell something was bothering Tara and that only led to more speculation in her busy mind.

It was Willow who finally broke the silence, her voice reflected sincerity and hope in the one word answer, "Always."

Tara was startled by the unusual and strong feeling of de ja vu. It was as though the words that Willow had spoken had been uttered in another time and in another place. She blinked more to clear the thought than to clear the tears that she didn't realize had formed in her eyes. Through the glistening view, she saw Willow had experienced something similar. She looked a little shocked as well.

Tara wanted to be careful with her reply, but it felt as though the words were spoken from a different voice deep within her soul, "We can do this, we can make it through; we can be strong."

Willow lowered her voice, "I want to be strong for you Tara, but I also want to be weak and irresponsible, and reckless, and well to be honest, sneaky."

"Uh huh, sneaky," Willow wanted to explain, "I can't help it. You're just so, mmmm, yummy." Tara thought Willow had actually purred.

Tara furrowed her brow in disbelief, "no, there's nothing better than chocolate."

"Ya huh." Willow smiled seductively, "Way." She dropped her chin and looked up at Tara through half-lidded eyes, "Totemo way." [totally way (English)] As if to prove a point, Willow shifted her books and things into her left hand. She then reached out to Tara's right hand which was slightly closer. Tara was able to shift her items as well, and allowed Willow to take her hand. She pulled it up to her face, turned the hand over so her palm faced up. Willow took a deep breath and allowed the natural scent of Tara to wash over her. "Way."

"Yeah, I had an idea and I need your help, plus I want an audience." Willow's eyebrows went up mischievously.

Tara was always amused with the myriad of expressions that the girl displayed. Everyday she saw a new one, and it was endearing, "That's not being very sneaky." Tara chuckled and the gleam in her eye betrayed her thoughts as she looked over Willow seductively.

Willow laughed out loud. "No silly, I had an idea for a non-mission jeopardizing activity."

"I just want some comfy, non-couch time with you, and this seemed like a good way to do it. Plus the others, well, you'll see." Willow winked and looked around again to confirm they were alone. "And this is much safer than what I really want to do." She leaned in and whispered something in Tara's ear. The resulting blush was worth the effort. "Come on in."

Tara cuddled her books and followed Willow in. Smith and Kitchen were a little startled by the entrance, but relaxed when they saw Willow enter. Smith was puzzled when Tara followed in behind.

"You can set your books down here, but bring your notebook. This requires a little planning." Willow grabbed the extra pillow, continued over to her bunk and climbed up to the top. "Come on up." She instructed. She moved her pillow in behind her and sat with her back against the wall. She put the other pillow next to her in the same position and waited for Tara.

Tara climbed up and sat in a similar position next to Willow. They were close, but not quite touching. "Before I forget, I was wondering if I could borrow your pencils. I'm kinda working on a little keepsake for you."

"Sure anytime." Willow had opened up her note book. Oh what is she up to now? "Okay, there's Baltic and Mediterranean and community chest in between those two sea streets. Then the there's luxury tax, and a railroad, then the light blue ones.

"I think there's an orange group but is that the between the red and yellow? Or is it on the side before going to jail?" Willow pursed her lips in concentration. Innuendo was a good tool; she recalled thinking that much earlier in the week.

"No, there's a purple on the next side after the light blue, then orange" Smith chimed in but she sounded a little tired.

"And Chance," Tara had caught on as well. "Then the yellow and red are on the one side, right?" She'll like that one. Tara winked at Willow, "Then the other side is the green and blue." It was like the game was made for them. Tara continued, "I think the free parking is right by orange. So Go to Jail is between the yellow and green."

"Figures." Willow was a little deflated. Dang it. "Okay we know Blue – Park Place and Boardwalk. You want to start with those?" Willow had divided her paper and was starting to tear some medium sized squares for the game. "If we can't remember or want to make up our own we can."

"Oh we should make up our own." Tara considered for a moment. "You want the blue and yellow or the green and red?"

"Oh I so want the Blue and Yellow." Willow replied innocently but her meaning was clear.

"Oh good I was hoping to personalize the green and red too." Tara smiled at Willow and licked her lips. I like sneaky. Tara was really enjoying their innocent banter which was so loaded with double meaning.

Willow scratched her chest right under her shoulder blade. "Oh I think that's a great idea." Willow started making notes on her paper. "Okay we have 4 Railroads. We should update those too, don't you think?"

"Sure, but we don't have to limit ourselves to tradition; we could do it on planes, trains, boats or buses." Tara suggested.

"Check, no Captain Stubbing or Gopher. Plus you know that series should be over – it's so passé and predictable, this should be more lasting." Tara nodded in understanding. "Do we want Pacific and Atlantic to be more US related for the purple ones? Or do we want to go with a color theme, or new neighborhoods which could be fun as well." Tara inquired.

"What do ya mean, color theme?" Willow was curious about where Tara was going with this one. Her suggestions were euphemistically loaded and she was loving this. She couldn't wait to see where she'd take this line of thought.

"Well these are the cheap properties right?" Tara waited for Willow to nod. "Well I like Hicksville for one." It was Tara's turn to scratch at her hidden brand. "I think you should have the next one though.

"Hmmm, ok." Willow's mind was racing through the many directions she could take this imagery. Willow scrunched her eyebrows in thought, "gosh, all I can think of is Plainview. That sounds kinda hicky."

Tara had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "Kitsune," she whispered and she moved her leg to bump Willow's thigh playfully. "Well now that I understand the assignment," Tara started I think this is gonna take a little longer than we have tonight. "Can we resume after we study tomorrow?"

Oh excellent, she wants another date. "Sure, plus we have do Community Chest and make Chance, this could be quite the project," Willow said with a completely innocent face. "And I haven't really figured out our tokens."

Kitchen and Smith had both turned out their lights and appeared to be falling asleep. Willow nodded toward their witnesses.

"And what are we going to use for houses, hotels and money?" Tara was suddenly very interested in how much of this Willow had already planned out. And the conversation needed to continue quietly.

"Money we're using M&Ms – those are actually already divided in percentages so we should be ok there. Brown yellow orange green and tan, I think that's the right order by quantity in a bag. We may want to adjust the property prices a little to accommodate for necessary eatage." Willow smiled at the last comment before she continued, "Houses and hotels, that's gonna be fun, I'm not to sure about that yet, but I'm sure we can come up with something."

"And the markers?" Tara was just loving all the thought Willow had put into her little game.

"Well that should be small and personal as well," Willow concluded, "as tokens generally are."

"Oh, uh, like this ring," Tara grabbed her hand and had another funny de ja vu feeling. That's just too weird.

"Yeah, that would be perfect. I was kinda thinking my Chapstick cap, it's kinda like the thimble. Although I thought you'd be more a car girl. I thought I could drop over at your properties with my little dog, but that was just one thought I had in my head." Willow added.

"Oh, I'd let you stay at my hotels for free, and we could go for a ride in the car." Tara added in a low seductive voice. She was thinking of Willow's hair flying with the wind in her little convertible.

"Oh, like free parking?" Willow moved her hand over to Tara's leg and laid it softly on her thigh just above her knee cap.

Willow's touch was like magic, it always seemed to affect Tara. "I'd let you have my get out of jail free card if you needed it."

"Oh, I'll definitely take you up on that." Willow moved her hand a little further inside Tara's thigh and squeezed just a little to confirm her point. "Do you like to play with the free parking pay out?"

Willow was driving Tara mad with desire. She felt her body reacting to the simple touch. She moved her hand and placed it in the same place on Willow's leg. Willow closed her eyes in response. Tara continued, "Uh huh, definitely free parking. I think I'll let you do community chest, okay? I'll take Chance." She gently increased the pressure on Willow's leg to accentuate her own point.

"You mean, Right now?" Willow husked quietly. Tara's eyes dropped to Willow's chest and she didn't even try to shift them. Willow blushed. She was burning up with desire. She fixated on Tara's mouth. She couldn't seem to move her eyes from the moist soft lips.

"There's two green in it for you." Tara was loving this game. The greens were hundreds and that's what you get when you pass Go. And she wanted Willow to pass Go.

"Think it's time for a bag of chocolate? You got me all hungry." Willow accepted the invitation. She realized she wanted her own Token of Tara's affection, and until Tara had time to color whatever it was, she'd like Tara Lips. "Are you in?"

Tara looked around the room to ensure both girls couldn't see her. She moved her left hand up to Willows neck, put a finger in the softness at the base of Willow's throat, and slowly dragged it down the line of her sternum until she hit the "V" on Willow's flannel shirt. "I'd love to be in."

Tara tucked her fingers into her palm. She moved the top of her fingers slowly across her skin. Then she slid her fingers out in a slow and deliberate caress. She felt a gentle rise at her pinky finger and moved her hand higher up to Willow's neck to avoid the forbidden touch. She didn't want to presume Willow would allow her to reach beyond. She wanted to respect the lines, if only in deed.

"Then we should go," Willow started. She had an amusing look on her face for a moment, She looked down toward the hand that still lay flat against her skin, "When I can actually walk again. That's making it hard. That's just making everything hard." Willow blushed when she realized how frank she had been. Willow thought the comment might be a little lost on Tara, but Willow realized if she didn't understand it now, she would soon.

Where were we: Tara tucked her fingers into her palm. She moved the top of her fingers slowly across her skin. Then she slid her fingers out in a slow and deliberate caress. She felt a gentle rise at her pinky finger and moved her hand higher up to Willow's neck to avoid the forbidden touch. She didn't want to presume Willow would allow her to reach beyond. She wanted to respect the lines, if only in deed.

Willow motioned toward the two sleeping girls. Tara froze and listened. Both were resting peacefully. Smith had a hint of a snore just beginning. Kitchen sounded like her breaths were slow and rhythmic. They appeared to be still; there were no appreciable movements indicating that they were not actually asleep.

"Well, I can walk you over for the chocolate since they are asleep." Tara said quietly enough that if either were awake they would hear her and volunteer to do their companion duty. "In payment though, I think I should get your green ones." She moved her thumb slowly across Willow's throat.

Willow's eyes rolled up into her head. They seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Willow relaxed further into the pillow behind her and put her head back and closed her eyes. "And if you don't mind me taking a moment, I think I should use the rest room." She broke the word apart so Willow would understand she wanted some privacy.

A fresh wave of heat went through Willow. Tara was simply, deliciously, sneaky. She knew it was going to be hard to walk without that rubber leg feeling. "Well I would appreciate your help. Sometimes I get a little weak when I need…sugar."

"Oh, I get that way too sometimes. Here let me help you." Tara moved her thumb once more across Willow's throat and moved her hand down to the top of her chest just above where she'd been tempted before. The movement earned her a sharp intake of breath from Willow and her chest heaved toward the touch. Tara pulled her palm away and with her middle finger stroked just under Willow's clavicle feeling the soft flesh she hoped to kiss later.

Willow was struggling not to pant. Tara's touch was so sensual, so seductive. Just one finger and Willow felt like Tara was everywhere, she couldn't get enough. "We should go then." Willow's expression was slumberous, "Although I really shouldn't have sugar this late. After-hours sugar makes me a little irresponsible."

"Well who doesn't let chocolate cloud their judgment?" Tara smirked. She loved that she had so much effect on her girl.

Diet, that's a good one. "Oh I hate diets. The more I try and resist the things I want, the harder it is not to have them," Tara held her words out for emphasis. "Especially when they are so close." Tara switched her caressing digit to her first finger and dipped lower on Willow's chest. Then she looked down at her hand and licked her lips which earned her another chest thrust from Willow. She keep her eyes steady on her goal. "It's like all consuming, you know you shouldn't have it, but it's right there ready to be taken. And you're only cheating yourself by not giving in."

"Well cheating is bad too." Willow started to move a little, but was still weak. "Well I'd like to go down first, but I think you need to catch me." Tara raised her eyebrow.

Willow saw Tara's eyebrow up and replayed her sentence back. She whisper yelled, "Oh! Not that way!" Willow sucked in her lips again in amusement. She looked down at Tara's hand and raised her eyebrows. She continued in a quieter whisper, "Well look at those."

"I have been," Tara admitted to herself and Willow. "a lot." Tara took a cleansing breath to steady herself, "Come on, lets go get you what you want." With that, Tara removed her teasing finger and got down off the bunk. She turned to catch Willow who was busy scooting toward the edge of the bed. "You might as well hand me those before you get down."

"Oh, good idea." Willow handed over the notebooks and pencils and Tara placed them on the desk. "Okay, you're next."

"Ready or not…" Willow climbed down, as she suspected her legs were weakened by her desires. Willow was grateful for the support but the added bonus was being close to Tara again. She took another breath. "Thanks, my sugar awaits." She grabbed some change from her desk and dropped it in her sweats pocket.

They left the room quietly and Tara waited as Willow closed the door. She turned toward the "other" room. It was one way to get to chocolate waiting in the vending machine. Tara knew they didn't have a lot of time, so she quickened her pace down the hall. Willow nearly jogged to keep up. The thought amused her: When Tara made up her mind, she was a force to be reckoned with. Tara opened the door and waited for Willow to enter and followed behind, taking a look at the little cheek jiggle she'd been tempted by a few days earlier. Willow turned to face her.

They stood a few feet apart, both looking hopeful but still a little uncertain. They'd been playing at innuendo and euphemisms for awhile, and it was fun, but there was always a risk. Everything was subject to interpretation. Sometimes the imagery referenced was not really supposed to represent a tangible thing. They both needed to be sure of their translations.

Willow watched Tara's lips form the words. She wanted those lips. She knew if Tara were anything like her, this was going to be enjoyable for her. "I just want you to be sure. This will make it harder for you." Willow was speaking from experience. "We can wait, I can wait, I don't want you to feel rushed or forced or like I expect…"

Tara took the last step between them and silenced the babble before it began with a chaste but heart felt kiss. Tara moved her hands to Willow's lower back and pulled them so they were pressed firmly together. She disengaged after a moment.

"Willow." Tara needed for Willow to really hear what she needed to say. She paused between each word so Willow would understand, "What do you want?"

Willow knew what Tara was asking but she'd learned not to think that way. It was always about the other person. She'd spent her whole life trying to be what other people expected her to be. She hadn't anticipated the rush of emotion that question evoked. Tears formed in her eyes.

After a few moments she was finally able to respond. Her voice faltered, but she was able to get it out, "I want it to be okay to love you." When she completed the sentence, her face started showing signs that she was losing control. She thought through all the obstacles that stood in their way, The Church, Tara's family, their mission rules, their mission assignments, the distance between them even after they were home, and society. Willow's heart was breaking.

She felt like there was only one safe haven other than this room right now with Tara. But even Aunt Melody might draw the line if Carol were around. She was old-fashioned that way. So the token she wanted Tara to give her was just another reminder that they would always have to hide, to be less than who they were. They would always have to sneak around like criminals, hiding in shadow, shunned by the very people who were allowed the freedom to profess their love for others in front of god and witnesses any way they saw fit.

Willow's mouth opened as her chin began to quiver uncontrollably. The tears streamed down her face. When she sucked in a breath, a fresh wave of sorrow overwhelmed her. But there were strong arms holding her. "Taraaah." She rested her own hands on Tara's hips.

The next wave of thoughts flooded her mind. She had sought help for her "problem" in several belief systems and been told that if she had enough faith that the feelings for girls would simply disappear. That failure was a reminder that she couldn't even love god right. Willow started to shake as her defenses started to fail her. She couldn't tell Tara that. Tara would see her as a failure too. She had to be strong, there had to be something more she could do, something more to keep Tara safe from all the pain she was feeling right now. But Tara seemed to want to be there with her.

Tara waited while Willow plowed through her mental processes. She saw a break in the tears as if some tiny little ray of light had trickled through her mind; Tara seized the opportunity. She kissed Willow on the forehead and wiped her cheek with her thumb. She resisted the urge to put it in her mouth and taste Willow's salty goodness. Tara pulled her close and she whispered soothing words right into her ear, "It's okay." She pulled her closer. "I'm here."

Willow felt Tara's breath in her ear and she felt strong arms around her. Everything was upside down. All her emotions were coming to the surface and she felt exposed. All the doubts she'd ever had about herself, all the pain and sorrow, every harsh word ever spoken to her seemed to resonate in her mind. And there was Tara whispering in her ear, "It's gonna be okay." But it wasn't.

Everything was connected to this thing, this horrible curse. Willow realized early on that she wasn't like the other girls. She wasn't hung up on cute boys and didn't swoon like an insane person when some guy walked by. She didn't care about make-up and trying to impress the school stud. She liked the girls. And now she liked Tara. Here stood Tara whispering that it was okay. But it was never okay. She was never okay. Willow couldn't accept the words. How could she? She wasn't "normal." She was defective.

Being different transcended all areas of her life. It made her strive to be perfect so her family would love her. She tried so hard to be the perfect daughter. She did everything she was told, but it didn't matter. It really didn't even matter if she was in the room or not. Even when her parents were there, they didn't know her. She knew she'd be a disappointment to them if they ever found out, so she learned to hide. Willow found refuge in books, escaped to the library, and ignored her pain by concentrating on school work. Academic achievement wasn't enough though. She knew that.

It wasn't just her family, she didn't have many real friends. She was not like the others in her class. She did well in school and more than once she caught classmates looking at her work. Those who were brazen enough made friends with her, but their friendships seemed to fade when the shared course was over. The nice ones upset her the most. With each new lost friend, a little piece of her died inside. She internalized the hurt and became shy and inhibited.

Kids pick up on insecurity and fear. Like a pack of wolves, children attack the weak and they are without mercy. Having red hair that was bad enough; and being Jewish was so not the "in" thing. When she skipped a grade, what few friends she had vanished; she was younger than all her classmates. She was that redheaded dork who read all the time: Willow Nose-in-Book or Willow Rosenerd. Those were some of the nicer names they called her.

The older she got, the more she withdrew and distanced herself. Sure there were girls she liked; but she couldn't talk about her feelings, no one would understand. Someone would find out and the risk was just too great. It was all too much. Not expressing herself became the norm, it was easier to hide. She got so good at pretending to be someone she wasn't, that when presented with religious dogma, she just adapted a new ideal. It was easy. And she berated herself for her chameleon like qualities. She felt like she wasn't genuine. And if she wasn't authentic, how could anyone ever actually love her?

And then she met Tara. Tara turned her world upside down. She said we. It was just a glimmer of hope, and she didn't want to let it go. In a moment of weakness, she started to believe that she might be worthy of love. She actually felt like she was herself when she was with her, and Tara liked her back. She made a picture. Another tear trickled down her face when the image came into her mind. It was just a little sheep alone on the island. She said: I love you.

Willow collapsed under the strain and the two fell to the floor, in a tangled embrace. Tara stayed strong, whispering and stroking Willow's hair. She wasn't sure what was going on in Willow's mind, but she knew what turmoil and mental anguish she had been through in the brief time they had been there. She'd found some clarity in her journal when she wrote. And Donny's letter had really helped. However most of her comfort had come from Willow's words. It was Willow who gave her strength to think beyond what she had been taught, to question the source of her beliefs. She realized she had been impulsive when it came to Willow, but it seemed so right. It was that faith in Willow that made everything fall into place. And now Willow was falling apart.

For Tara, Willow always seemed strong. Tara wasn't sure what to do. Willow tries so hard to be obedient and comply with the rules – even when they were hard, well except for staying up too late. And the kissing. Oh, okay Willow was trying. She wondered what had happened in the few moments it took for the bubbly redhead to falter and breakdown. She was afraid to ask, but she needed to know what was wrong.

"Willow?" Tara's voice was like a song. She broke the hushed whispers she'd used before. She pulled back from Willow and looked steadily into her eyes. She stroked her hair again and used a finger to place a wayward hair behind her ear. It fell immediately out of place again.

Willow looked down. She was struggling to hold onto the loving words that seemed to echo through to her soul: We can do this.

"Willow, sweetie, what's wrong?" That seemed the simplest, take the direct approach.

Tara let the question sit for a few moments while Willow tried to compose herself. She went after the wayward hair again, this time she allowed herself the luxury of feeling Willow with her fingers and palm and leaving her hand in place while she continued to gaze at Willow.

Willow could almost feel the emotion and love from Tara's hand as she stroked her hair. The heat radiated from her touch. Willow was so afraid to give in to the sensations that contact provoked. A few more tears leaked out and she shoved them away with her hand.

Tara caught Willow's wet fingers and brought them to her mouth. She kissed them gently one finger at a time. Tara shut her eyes and let the feelings of love pour through each kiss. She took a deep breath and left her eyes closed as she took Willow's hand and held it against her cheek. Her heart felt warm and full.

They sat motionless on the floor huddled together just inside the door. Several minutes passed as Tara waited for Willow's response. Willow's mind had actually stopped working; Tara was holding her.

It was like an epiphany. She was starting to believe. Willow let the reality of that moment settle in her soul. It was as though a tiny ray of light touched her heart: She means we.

It's one thing to hear words and understand the meaning of them. It's another to let them in. At times the biggest mysteries are the things right in front of us. We cloud some truths with our own thoughts and fears, dismiss ideas that seem absurd because it can't possibly be that easy. Life is a discovery simply because we can't always see the things right in front of us. And when your heart has been damaged, when you've lost faith in yourself and feel unworthy of love, then truly the hardest thing to believe is that someone can love you – even when all the evidence is in plain view.

Sister Kitchen turned off Willow's alarm. "She's out." She said calmly to Smith.

Sister Smith shot out of bed. She gave Kitchen a look and said in alarm, "She didn't come back last night?"

Sister Smith got out from her bunk and came over to see what Kitchen was talking about. The only thing that looked natural about Willow's position on the bed was that her head was near her pillow. Her legs were askew. It looked as if she had run and jumped head first onto the bed and let everything fall where it may. Her left leg was bent at the knee and her foot was up in the air, leaning against the wall. One arm was dangling over the side of the bed, but her elbow was not near enough to the edge of the bed so it stuck straight out. Her other arm was straight up over her head as though she was trying to pick an apple out of a tree. Her head was resting in the crook of her outstretched arm. Her limp wrist was the only indication that she'd not turned into a plastic manikin or a tortured Barbie doll in the night.

Sister Smith covered her mouth. She thought this was likely the funniest thing she had ever seen. She turned to Kitchen and made a quick and familiar finger movement and Kitchen nodded. Smith held up 2 fingers and Kitchen nodded again. A quick motion with her thumb toward the door and Kitchen immediately sucked in her lips. Her nod became more boisterous as she watched Smith begin her preparations. She handed a camera to Kitchen and quietly opened the door.

After she exited their dorm she raced out down the hall. She hadn't run so fast since she was in high school, but this was the opportunity of a life time. She gently tapped on the door when she arrived at the other end of the hall. When Colson opened the door, Smith was out of breath. "You" (breathe) "hafta come" (breathe) "and see" and managed to point to her own camera before she turned to run back the way she'd come.

Sister Conley saw the tail end of Smith as she ran toward her room. Conley and Colson looked quickly at each other, their eyes widening in understanding. Colson bolted back toward the desk, grabbed her camera and was just a few steps behind Conley who'd gone on out ahead. Conley made a quick detour as Colson ran by. Conley returned to the race shortly dragging a very confused Sister by the arm behind her.

Smith had left the door open and was changing settings on her camera to allow for the reduced lighting. Sister Kitchen appeared ready to take her shot as well. When the other three entered the room, they weren't sure what they would find, and only two of them knew it was simply too good to miss. Colson was preparing her camera as well and hadn't looked toward the intended target until the other two entered the room. Kitchen and Smith welcomed their sister friends with smiles and turned to face Willow. When the latest arrivals approached Willow asleep on the bed, two of them stifled their giggles. The third simply grinned.

A gentle purr accentuated the image of red fiery hair strewn everywhere and the impossibly uncomfortable position of the rest of her. Tara shook her head in wonder. Willow certainly was an enigma. Tara raised her hand and placed it over her heart without thinking. It looked like Willow had been too warm in the night and the blanket, bed spread and sheet were also tangled around her body and the contorted appendages.

Conley motioned with her hand and silently counted out with her first…then second…then third fingers. Three clicks and the proof was out there – hiding on the undeveloped film. Willow didn't even move. Smith made a motion toward the door with her head and pretended to turn on an invisible light switch. Tara moved over to turn on the light. She felt a little guilty for her part in the event, but there was the peppered letter and the toothpaste tube of perpetual salt, and well, she was still finding toilet paper stuffed in the pockets of her clothes.

Tara turned on the light and three more photographs were taken. Willow barely stirred. Tara made a silent note that no matter what, they really needed to get to bed earlier than they had been.

Kitchen said in a semi quiet voice, "Who wants to?" She moved her thumb in Willow's direction.

"Well we can't leave her here all day, she needs to get up. We have to get going." Kitchen responded kindly. Smith, who was still trying to figure Tara and Willow out, was studying Tara.

"You guys want to go to gym?" Tara was starting to see what needed to be done. They couldn't go without Willow, or Willow would need a "sitter." Tara laughed inside when she considered the thought. "Well I'm due for some journal time, I could stay while you go."

Smith rolled her eyes, smirked and nodded. Kitchen was much nicer about it. "Yeah, I kind of need the gym to keep me functioning."

"I was almost ready anyway." Tara continued. "Would that work for you?" Tara didn't even notice the disdain on Smith's face when she volunteered to stay behind.

Smith tried to read Tara; she was a little suspicious of her motives, but nothing seemed inappropriate with the gesture. Maclay was just a nice wholesome girl and she was sincerely trying to solve their dilemma. Smith looked toward Kitchen for approval, but she had already moved to get her shoes on. She was practically out the door already. "Okay then." Smith conceded.

"I'll be right back, just give me a sec." Tara was out of their dorm and nearly a quarter way down the hall when she heard the quiet "okay" from Sister Smith. Conley and Colson were not far behind her.

When Tara returned with her journal and scriptures, the other two were ready to head out. They tallied a little while Tara settled in at Willow's desk to write. Smith took one last look as Tara opened her books to start reading; Smith wondered if she really could be wrong, but something was nagging at her. "Thanks." Smith said quietly to Tara as she closed the door behind her.

"You're welcome." Tara responded to the nearly empty room. Tara looked up at the sleeping girl on the bunk. My pleasure. She added in her mind as a gentle smile appeared on her face.

Tara turned her concentration to the book in front of her. She stared at the blank page. She let her mind drift back to Willow and their adventure from the night before. Tara reached up and touched her mark. It was still a little softer than the rest of the skin in that area. Tara let her fingers slowly move across the area and she closed her eyes. She imaged Willow touching her. Just a gentle caress. She remembered Willow's touch. It never felt the same when it was her own hand. She lightly touched her neck and chin, then shook her head. Stop it! Concentrate. Journal here. She rested her elbow on the desk and dropped her jaw and cheek onto her fist.

She couldn't seem to find a place to begin. She absentmindedly thumbed back through the pages as she reflected upon the last few weeks.

Tara's Sunday school class had given her the new mission journal. When Tara entered the room that last day, she had been beaten there by all the students. Tara being the last one to arrive; that never happened. They had been planning a send off for her. Macy, one of the little students, had been so cute when she handed it to her. Her brown eyes sparkled with excitement as she presented the gift. The kids let her be the one to give it to Tara since she had organized them. There was a card which had been signed by each one. The wrapping was clearly done by a child; it was covered in tape. After she opened the gift and read the card she started her last teaching session.

She made everyone get up from their usual seats and mixed them up making them sit by different people than they normally did. Macy didn't get to sit near Holly, she sat next to Justin instead. Holly, who was generally the more popular of the group, took a seat by Tommy who was always quiet and reserved. Tara joined them in the circle instead of sitting on the free standing table as she typically did when she led the lesson.

The lesson plan had been open, so it seemed appropriate that she lead their final class this way. She explained that while she was away, she would be doing very important work for The Church. The kids were sad. At first they didn't understand why she was having them all move around, but then she started talking about what it was like to serve a mission.

"When you are called to serve, you don't know where your going. You don't know who you will be paired with, but there are reasons for everything. You just have to find what it is. You find what you have in common and build on that." She had the kids talk with each other until each one had found something in common with someone they didn't normally spend time with.

In the final few minutes of the class Tara had the new teacher come in. She introduced Carrie to the group. The kids seemed to warm up to her immediately. Tara explained that they all had something in common with Sister Carrie; they just had to figure out what that was. Holly had said something about Carrie not knowing them either. Macy's words were still fresh in Tara's mind. "Sister Tara, I know what you have in common with Sister Carrie…" After a pause she said sweetly, "us."

As Tara was gathering her things, Tommy had returned to the room. He walked up slowly and enveloped her in a huge hug. He was not inclined to say too much in class, less likely to say anything outside of class sessions, and to have him hugging her was unheard of. His final parting words were simple and direct, "be happy." The memory was bittersweet.

She felt a moment of conflict. It had become normal now to have these swings in emotion and conflicted thoughts. She'd always been taught to be an example, to be strong so others following behind her would have a clear path. Those kids were depending on her to lead the way. That little boy, that sweet little boy had provoked such a response of pride and hope. She remembered what it was like to be shy and unsure. When she was younger she stuttered and felt like she just wanted to be invisible, but she had been forced to lead the way.

Tara glanced back down at the annoying journal and opened up to the blank page again. She had only nine days-worth of entries since she arrived and she really didn't know what to say. Start simple.

November 16, 1984

I don't know where to start. Yesterday was horrible and wonderful.

I had a meeting with President Shepherd. That was the horrible. I don't even want to say what happened there. Suffice it to say, I was a little surprised. I didn't expect that he'd be all supportive of my feelings, I just didn't imagine the level of animosity I felt. I guess I didn't really see it before. Before Willow, this whole thing, well it was just abstract. Now it feels…personal.

Willow is the wonderful.

The past few days had been wonderful, with the exception of the not- so-good Shepherd interview. Tara took a small breath and looked up at the sleeping redhead. With her left hand she ran her fingers through her hair and stretched her neck. She closed her eyes.

Willow amused her. That monopoly thing, that was really a great idea. That Willow had spent so much time thinking out the aspects of the game was just precious. And it felt like something that they could do together that was just theirs. They could name the places they would land on, set the cards and figure out the money and prices of the properties. It was a project, sure, but it was a process that would lead to lasting memories. Tara smiled again when she conjured the image of Willow's face when she said, "Hickville." That was priceless. Tara chuckled. The cheapest property on the block was priceless. She snickered again quietly.

Tara wanted to let the moment sweep her away. She wanted so much to disappear in that quiet place in her mind where she was safe from rebuke, free of the suspicious looks from Smith, and the unasked questions from Sister Conley. Free from the pressures of unrealistic ideals. The Church…well not really The Church, that was an intangible. No, it was the people – and the responsibility for others. If she could just fall into Willow, all of that would fade away.

Without thinking she reached up and touched her lips. They seemed much more sensitive since Willow. Everything seemed more…intense…since Willow. It was as though she'd been living in shadows and now Willow had brought her into the light.

"Be Happy" Tara heard the words in her head and saw the tiny boy looking at her with such sincerity. Tara rubbed her forehead again. Her brain was spinning. The Church had given her a formula for being happy, and she'd been living that life waiting for something…but she had not really been happy until she met Willow. President Shepherd had said she was not going to be happy if she continued in this path. How did he know? She knew it wouldn't be realistic to think that being with Willow would be all roses and tulips, but when they were together it was like nothing else mattered.

As she pondered what she thought would be the reaction of her family and friends, she sighed. Being gay is hard. Tara's thoughts stopped flitting and all she could focus on was that one idea. Being gay. What on earth does that mean?

Willow is the wonderful.

–

I never really considered what it was like to "be" anything. I was always just Mormon. Being Mormon – Being Mormon was like belonging to something bigger than me. I was part of a whole and part of my family. If I weren't "being" Mormon what would I be, who would I be? Why do we have to have labels for everything? Why can't I just "be" Tara?

Why is this so hard? All I want is to be with Willow; to go out with Willow. Is that where that term comes from being out? No, I don't think so. Am I out? No, I'm pretty much in, I'm an inny. Is that like being a different kind of belly button? No, pretty sure that's not it either.

I need to figure this out. There's that word again: out. Huh.

Tara put her pen down and scratched her head. She re-read her last paragraph. Golly, Willow babble sure is contagious. She looked back at the girl sleeping on the upper bunk. She could have easily stared at Willow for hours, but that wouldn't be helpful. Willow was the best resource for these sort of questions. Plus, she probably would want to get up and get ready to go out and face the day.

Tara stood and went over to the bunk. She reached out with her left hand and touched the fiery mane. "So soft," Tara didn't even realize she'd whispered the words out loud. She balanced on the lower bunk so she could see Willow better.

There was a tiny movement on the freckled face. At the corner of slightly parted, thin lips a hint of a smile gradually appeared. Willow moved the arm that had stretched out beyond the bed. She pulled it back and tucked her hand under her chin as she continued to sleep. Tara could have sworn she saw Willow flex some muscles in her legs and above, but she remained in place. Tara found the whole thing endearing.

Tara ran the back of her index finger along Willow's jaw line, "Adorable." She spoke softly with a muted tone.

This time there was more movement. The contorted leg fell back to the bed and the arm that was tucked under Willow's head jerked and in a quick flop Willow landed on her back. Her left arm now rested above her head, bent at the elbow. The hand that had been under her chin flopped to a rest over her breast with her fingers curled. In a final move, she tucked her left hand under her head as a new pillow and she lay still sound asleep facing Tara.

Tara looked at Willow's new position. She is just too cute. Tara reached out one more time. She spoke quietly so not to startle her, "Willow." With her left hand she stroked Willow's face and trailed her fingers down her neck.

Willow stirred slightly at the contact. She reached for the hand that was touching her and placed it flat against her chest. "Mmmm." She turned a bit so she was more on her side. The pressure from her arm against her side and gravitational shifts reduced the safe area where Tara's hand rested and suddenly she found herself – well her hand – nestled snuggly between Willow's two mounds as they rose and fell in her restful sleep.

Tara looked down at her trapped hand. How am I gonna explain that? She looked over at the clock. She still had plenty of time before the girls would return, but still, anything could happen. They could walk in if class let out early. She had to be careful. "Willow, okay you can't handnap." She said in soothing voice. "That's just cheating."

When Tara spoke out loud, Willow's breath hitched. Willow momentarily released Tara's hand and moved her palm down her arm. Before Tara could move it out of the way, Willow returned her hand to grip Tara's hand more tightly; she cuddled closer. The result of the action reduced the safe gap even further and the captured hand was no longer resting on any flat area. Tara felt Willow's heart beat. Or it might have been her own, she wasn't sure, but she was trying very hard not to move. Her eyes grew large. I have to wake up Willow before things get out of hand – or into it. Oh gosh; this is so wrong!

"Willow." Tara watched for any trace of consciousness. "Willow." She repeated this time with a little more volume. "Wake up sweetie. I need my hand back."

Willow took a deep breath, she appeared to finally be coming out of a restful sleep. Tara felt Willow's grip tighten and release slightly again. Willow rolled her head in the direction of her hand and her eyes barely opened. And her head rolled back to it's former position. Willow's face slowly started coming back to life. First, a tiny smile appeared, then a little yawn and then her brows lifted as if the movement was intended to open her eyes. Her face started to relax again but she forced her eyes to open. Tara knew that she was not clearly visible through the tiny slits Willow had opened for her. Willow took a slow breath through her nose. Her thumb and fingers slowly moved across Tara's knuckles and skin. After a few moments, Willow re-gripped the hostage and lay on her back taking Tara's hand with her.

Tara couldn't believe she was still touching Willow. She looked at the offending hand. She realized she hadn't really tried that hard to free herself from the tender embrace. "Oh, um, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, and you were sleeping, and caught hold and then turned over and it was stuck and I didn't want to wake you and…"

Tara's babble was interrupted when Willow lifted both their hands to her lips and tenderly kissed Tara's palm. But she didn't stop. She pulled Tara's arm toward her and kissed her again and again trailing kisses along her inner arm toward her elbow. Tara was loosing balance. She was barely perched on the lower bunk. Willow moved closer to the edge of the bed. Willow continued breathing through her nose as she smelled Tara and kissed the soft skin along her arm.

Tara grabbed the edge of the bed with her right hand. And Willow changed direction again kissing down Tara's arm. She lifted herself up and perched on her other arm. As she continued her journey she slowly moved closer to Tara. Tara watched as Willow applied her lips to the sensitive skin not noticing how Willow was repositioning herself.

Willow stopped for a moment, "I said, did you need something?" She turned Tara's hand and replaced it on her chest where it had been earlier covering it again. Tara's mouth had dropped open in disbelief and excitement. Willow leaned forward to Tara's ear and whispered. "I know you want to." And with that, Willow latched her mouth around Tara's earlobe. She removed her hand from Tara's and threaded her fingers through Tara's hair as she continued with the sensual kiss. Her breathing was labored and with every intake her chest thrust forward into Tara's hand.

Willow removed her hand from Tara's hair and carefully reached her fingers past the button on Tara's shirt to touch the area she'd marked the night before. As she traced a circle around the light colored bruise, she pulled away and looked deeply into Tara's eyes as if asking the unspoken question. She flattened her own hand and felt the skin at Tara's collar bone and caressed her shoulder. She closed her eyes feeling the touch. "So Soft." Willow repeated the words Tara had spoken earlier. She once again flattened her hand and traveled toward the mark, this time she felt the gentle rise just starting with her pinky finger. She held still.

"Yesssss," Tara's voice was a whisper. She did have something she needed. Tara held her hand still where it was on top of Willow's pajamas. Willow pulled away a little and looked with longing into Tara's eyes.

"Well actually I should get down from here, because, well I'm feeling a bit faint at the moment and that can't be good." Tara took a slow breath, "And much as I'd like to, I think it would be better if you got up and helped me with my question."

"Well," Tara chuckled a little bit, "Actually, I had questions, but at the moment, they seem to have fallen out of my head."

Tara looked at where her hand was nestled. "No, not south, cause that would be dangerous this time of year."

"Oh yea, there's dangerous mountain terrain south of here." Willow looked down at Tara's hand. She hadn't moved one inch. "Plus it's always better to go in pairs. You should have a guide."

Tara looked back up. It was getting harder to resist. And she wasn't sure how much Willow could take, but clearly she was feeling playful.

"Oh, I haven't been here before, but I'm sure I can find my way. I was a girl scout." Tara lifted her hand and pressed a finger in the center just below Willow's neck. She started running a trail with her finger straight down between Willow's ribs. "There are techniques you know, to hiking and trailblazing. It's about remembering where you've been so you can get back again." Tara changed to her middle finger repositioned it again and ran the same path with the next digit.

This time she traveled a bit lower to the end of Willow's ribcage. "And when you find a place to rest that is safe, you set up camp." With that last comment, Tara flattened her palm against Willow's stomach and began to move it around to her back pulling her over into an embrace. She moved in and placed a soft kiss on Willow's lips.

Tara knew immediately what Willow was asking, but it was just too risky. "Well, s'mores should be limited to nighttime on campouts; they are more like a dessert, than a breakfast." Tara put on her best camping expert face. "And as much as I'd like s'mores, there just isn't enough time to make out…er…them…Um, I'm losing track of my analogy here. What were we talking about? I can't seem to keep it straight."

"Gee I hope not." Willow untangled her legs from the sheets and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She hopped down and helped Tara step back off the bunk. "I wouldn't want you to keep anything straight." Willow winked at Tara. "Especially when we were talking about lesbian chocolate treats."

Tara curled her lip up and wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Lesbian chocolate?" Her voice was hushed. "How on earth did we get from camping to lesbians?" Tara almost choked on the word each time she said it. "And when did we start talking about camping. Did I do that?"

Willow put a finger on Tara's sternum. "I believe you mentioned trail blazing," Willow began tracing a similar path down the Sacred Valley, "guides for mountain terrain," she slowed her hand when she reached Tara's stomach, and just as Tara had done, flattened her hand on her stomach, "and camping where it's safe." Willow caressed Tara's stomach for a moment and then left it in place. "And then I believe the lesbian chocolate came into the conversation," Willow leaned forward and gently kissed Tara.

"Well "Kisses" are "Hershey's." Willow instructed. Tara still seemed confused so she continued. "Her…shes. Her-she's kisses. Lesbian Chocolate."

Tara looked slightly amused and skeptical. "That's a stretch, don't ya think?" Tara shook her head and giggled a little.

"Well, s'mores are just kisses in bars nestled in marshmallowy goodness." Willow took the opportunity to pull Tara toward her so their upper bodies were snuggly pressed against one another. "Hershey's chocolate. Same formula for a bar as they have for the little tear drop." Willow closed the gap between their faces and kissed Tara again, this time teasing her lips with her tongue.

Tara pulled away but remained close. She was starting to get distracted again and knew their time was running out, but the Hershey thing was amusing. Again, Willow seemed to have thought through everything, "And what about the graham cracker?"

"Oh, well, while it is true that uses of the term graham cracker are more pejorative today, the original intent of the graham cracker, and few people know this, was to cure lust – particularly self abuse," Willow made air quotes around self-abuse for emphasis, "by young women."[3]

Willow continued. "Although the original recipe had less sugar," Willow put her hands on Tara's waist. She placed another kiss on Tara's lips, which were still partly open, "and honey." Willow moved her left hand down over Tara's hip and then around to Tara's bottom before pulling them together again in a full body – full contact embrace.

Tara felt like Willow was everywhere. Her breath hitched and she felt the passion welling through her entire body. Oh, I think I need a Graham cracker. "Okay, I give." Tara knew that she would let Willow take her right there if she let her explain any more about snack foods and campouts, and this behavior, although quite stimulating, was not conducive to study or missionary work. Plus, they could be caught. "Willow, we have to stop."

"Uh huh." Willow was busy swooning with the contact. She felt lightheaded as well and was in desperate need of a cold shower. "No honey. Check." Willow rested her forehead on Tara's shoulder. "Will you let me answer your questions later tonight, 'cause you know how I love to impart useless information."

Tara considered the request. She really had needed to talk to Willow about what all of these labels meant, and her identity, and all the things that she had been wondering about, but at the moment, none of that seemed important. She knew that through the day she probably would refocus on the work and would likely be in a very different place mentally than she was now.

"Let's play it by ear." She knew the moment she said it, that she had walked into another opportunity for Willow to tease her.

Willow grinned and raised herself up on her toes and back down in excitement. "Okay!" Willow's eyes shot back and forth examining the delicious little treats on the sides of Tara's head. Tara felt a tremor of excitement.

"Oh, I'll do my best to be fair." Willow reached up and played with one of Tara's ears as she pulled away from her. "I'll make sure I give them both equal time." She moved her hand down to Tara's jaw-line to her neck. "But right now I really need to shake a tower."

"I need to shake a tower, take a shower. It's a spoonerism." Willow walked over to her dresser and pulled out her bathroom bag, her towel, and a change of underwear. She went to her closet and stared at her selections.

"At the risk of finding out this is another euphemism or prelude to distractions of a physical nature, what is a spoodernism again?"

Willow let out a little bark of laughter. "Spoonerism.[4] It's when you mix up the first sounds of a couple of words in a sentence." Willow grabbed an outfit. "I'm gonna go and shake a tower, tush my breeth, and I'll le(e) back bater."

Tara laughed. "Do you just know everything?" She grinned with pride. Willow was just so smart and cute. How could she resist? "I'll see you in a bit."

"You'll be me in a sit." Willow giggled. She walked over to the door and turned back. "I'll be flack in a bash." She watched Tara working out the words. "Maybe you could work out your own noonerspisms while I'm gone." And with that, Tara was left alone to ponder.

She went back to the desk and sat down. The morning was certainly turning out much different than she had imagined. Waking up Willow was such an enjoyable experience. Where was I? Tara re-read her last entry.

I never really considered what it was like to "be" anything. I was always just Mormon. Being Mormon – Being Mormon was like belonging to something bigger than me. I was part of a whole and part of my family. If I weren't "being" Mormon what would I be, who would I be? Why do we have to have labels for everything? Why can't I just "be" Tara?

Why is this so hard? All I want is to be with Willow – to go out with Willow. Is that where that term comes from being out? No, I don't think so. Am I out? No, I'm pretty much in; I'm an inny. Is that like being a different kind of belly button? No, I'm pretty sure that's not it either.

I need to figure this out. There's that word again: out. Huh.

**

I'm really starting to be a babbler. Look at that.

Oh, well I went to have Willow help me with my questions, and we got distracted again. We do that sometimes. She's just so incredibly smart and she knows everything. The subject of "out" kinda got left out – well we were talking about the outdoors I guess, campouts and that sort of thing.

Tara started to chuckle. That word is so interesting: out. Just for amusement really, she couldn't study and she was still reeling from the emotional morning, Tara opened her notebook and started making a list.

Out: to be out – not in, open about, asleep/unconscious, not safe (baseball)…

Out-	-Out	Out…	…Out
Outcast Outwith it Outlook Outlandish Outspoken Outnumber Outclass Outfit Outskirt (ha) Outburst Outsource Outrigger Outhouse Outlaw Outwit/smart Outnumber Outstanding Outpouring	Without Standout Shout About Clout Pout Route ? Cutout	Out of Control Out of Time Out of Space Out of Money Out of Sight Out of Place Out of it (being) Out of Touch (relationship) ~~Out of Town~~ (places) Out in Space Out in Time Out loud	Figure Out Find Out Get Out Make Out Butt Out in and Out (conscious/place) Back Out Point Out Put Out

After she was done with her list, Tara went back and really took a look at the words she'd written. Interesting. Wonder what Willow will see on this list. And what am I doing – I made a list. An actual list. She added a few more words and lines for reference so she'd be ready for Willow. When did I start being a list girl. I'm not a list girl. I'm more of a feelings explored in a private journal person.

"It is your fault." Tara said as she turned to watch Willow complete her morning routine.

Willow looked over to examine Tara's face and realized she wasn't really angry. "My fault? What did I do?"

Willow giggled, "I made you listy? How did I do that?" She came over to the desk where Tara was still seated and looked over her shoulder.

Tara started to ramble, "I'm not a list person, and I've never been a list person. I'm a little organized, but never to the point where I make a big ole list, and certainly not enough to just look at a word before and make a list about it. That's something you would do, and with colors and charts and diagrams and oh just stop me now." She shook her head in amused frustration.

"Okay." Willow kissed the top of Tara's head. "Shoosh and Gimmee." She held out her hand.

Tara rolled her eyes in surrender and handed the notebook over. Willow reviewed the list Tara had made. After a few minutes of consideration, she began. Her voice cracked a little.

Willow could almost guess what Tara had been thinking about, but she didn't want to assume anything. This was a touchy subject at best. She reached past Tara and set the notebook back down on the desk next to Tara's open journal. She grabbed her own books and took them into her arms hugging them to her chest.

"Tara, this is a big and important list. And I think we should really talk through it tonight. I want some time to really consider how to best discuss this." Willow realized her tone was far too serious, so she quickly shifted gears, "I'm actually stalling because I can't decide what color I should use for my charts and diagrams." Willow winked and smiled; then she accentuated the comment with a quick flick of her tongue through her teeth.

Tara smiled back, she recognized the gesture and appreciated how Willow understood what she was up to.

Tara furrowed her brow for the second time that morning, "Are you always this perky in the morning?"

"What? No, um, well sometimes. I guess I'm just glad you're here; usually you're not here, and I am busy planning what I want to talk to you about during the day and now that you're here, well I probably shouldn't admit that I plan what I talk to you about cause that's just kinda strange I guess, but well it's complicated." Willow blew out a breath and pursed her lips, "So perky, well no."

Tara arched an eyebrow, "And do you always sleep like you've fallen out of a four story building, and hit a few trees on the way down before you land all catawampus?"

Willow took a quick breath to begin, then let it out again with a pout and hung her head.

Tara saw the chagrin on Willow's face and felt bad. "Oh, I found it totally cute." Tara reached out with a finger, placed it under Willow's chin, and applied a gentle pressure, "very endearing."

Tara continued, "But I have to warn you, there are some photos now of your position in bed this morning."

"Don't worry, you were fine, just a little contorted. I had a Barbie doll that ended up looking like that once after our neighbor's dog chewed on it for about ten minutes." Tara got a little wistful, "I never liked that dog…"

"I'm more of a cat person. I find them more satisfying as pets because they have to really like you to show affection, and they can be so expressive, but it's subtle not in a big tail wagging, slobbering way, but in a genuine "I purr for you" way; not to mention they are soft and sweet. And they always smell nice." Willow continued, "Seems like they are more independent too. Which I think is an important quality in a person, not all clingy and follow you everywhere kind of stalking like, and will you wear my ring that says "I love you" sort of way." Willow stopped when she saw Tara smirking at her. "But that's a story for another day."

Willow looked puzzled by the sudden change of topic, "Yeah, sure." She furrowed her brow and looked at Tara with the unspoken question.

Tara answered as if she'd raised the issue aloud, "Because when you do that, I want to go all "little puppy" on you." She started to gather up her things, "And that might not be a good idea if someone came in right now."

Willow imagined a new puppy wagging it's tail, jumping up in her lap, reaching up to gently nip at her nose and lick her face in a frenzy. Although from Tara, the little puppy thing might not be objectionable; she was right, not conducive to staying with Tara if they were to be caught tail wagging together by Smith or Kitchen.

"You're right. Let's get out of here." Willow grabbed her hairbrush and books and followed Tara out to the lounge.

They resumed their regular positions on the couch, Tara opened her journal and Willow turned a few pages into her scriptures. After a few minutes sitting in silence, Willow broke the silence.

Tara looked up from her journal. She hadn't written a word, she'd been lost in contemplation when Willow interrupted the quiet. She looked up and put her pen down.

"Out," Willow picked up her thought, "It defines an imaginary or self-defined limit." She picked up Tara's notebook and looked over the words again. "You captured it here in your third column: time, space, place, relationship, even states of being. The term "about" works the same way, only it measures close to the boundary.

"Out in space is somewhere outside of the atmosphere. Outside is defined by what is indoors. Out of sight – again that's relative to position and visual ability of the person looking. Outnumber is a relational boundary; us is more than you, or the number of persons in one group over another. Outlaw – a person not acting within the law. Outfield, in baseball, that is the area of grass beyond the dirt playing area of the infielders. Get out is a command to remove oneself from within a boundary of the commanding person's personal space.

"If you're out of your element, you are outside the area of an ability, or level of comfort you feel that you have. To "move out" means to get away from your family or more precisely your home. To be "out" means that you are beyond some boundary you have previously set for yourself. You can let a secret out by telling something that was previously unspoken; and "come out" to openly define yourself differently than what you thought you were before or differently than what you think others thought of you as before.

"It's a perception of the boundary that makes the word have meaning." Willow finished her thought and looked at Tara to see if she understood what she had meant.

Tara just sat there staring at Willow. Her heart was beating. She felt like she'd broken out into a sweat, but she wasn't warm. Her mouth had fallen open in amazement. She was even breathing harder than she should have been. Absentmindedly she said aloud, "That was so hot."

Tara shook her head in astonishment. She lowered her voice so no one but Willow would hear her. "You; you are so hot."

Willow shook her head, she could have sworn Tara said she was hot. "What? Huh? How?"

Tara continued to look at Willow. Now monosyllable Willow was also turning her on. She continued in a whisper, "I don't know how you do that. When you talk about the things in your head, when you teach me the things you know, it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard. Your babble is intoxicating, your wonder and love for things academic is enchanting and even when you are confused, it provokes a profound response in me. And I can't believe I just admitted that out loud."

Willow felt tears welling in her eyes, she had never had such raw emotion expressed about her. She felt a pressure on her chest as the feelings of warmth washed through her. She felt like her hands were on fire and she wiped them on her skirt. "Tara, I…"

"Hey guys!" Sister Smith and Sister Kitchen had returned from gym. Smith continued. She addressed Tara, "Thanks for Shimai-sitting for us." Smith sensed she'd interrupted something. "We can take her back to our place now." Willow quickly grabbed her books and held them tightly to her chest.

Kitchen also felt they had intruded on a private moment, but it was too late now, "We'll see you at breakfast I hope? Watakushi takushi wa anata ni burekufasutu o miru to omoi masu ka?" (translated breakfast sentence) Kitchen finished her attempted sentence in slow motion.

Tara slowly got up. She felt a little weak in the knees, but she couldn't let on. "Daijobu. [okay] Ja, ato de, ne? […later] Willow frowned. That sounded very slangy and she wanted to learn that. She pursed her lips and nodded at Tara who replied again to the unspoken question, "Later."

With that, she was gone and Willow stood holding her books wondering what had just happened between them.

She said I…was hot? She said I was…hot. Hot. Me, Willow Rosenberg, geek to the ninth power am hot. I think, not. She must be on drugs. Yeah, that's it; she's high. Maybe it's a morning thing, temporary insanity of the pre-breakfast kind. Maybe she needs special anti…'Anti-what' medicine? Anti-delusion?

Oh gosh, what if there is something wrong with her? What if she has a growth? And it's pressing on her brain and making her think she likes me; and in the morning, it's overactive cause she hasn't taken her medicine yet. Oh no! But there's nighttime too, maybe it's like a 12 hour drug and she takes it for her waking hours, and I've kept her awake past the threshold and that's why she wants to kiss me when it's late at night and before she takes it in the morning.

"Rosenberg Shimai?" Smith waved her hand in front of Willow's eyes. "Hey!" Smith looked at Kitchen, "What's wrong with her?"

"Maybe she has a condition or something." Kitchen offered. She had also returned to where Willow remained standing in an apparent trance. She shook her head and dismissed the notion.

She could have some sort of hypothalamutic condition. Maybe she doesn't know about it yet.

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if there was something wrong with her, the way she sleeps is just not normal." Smith seemed aggravated.

Maybe I'm making it worse by keeping her up at night; she might not be getting enough sleep to replenish her natural defenses.

Kitchen furrowed her brow and glared at her other companion. "There is nothing wrong with Rosenberg; she's just tired I bet." She reached a hand out and tenderly touched Willow's shoulder. Kitchen spoke in a soft and soothing tone, "Hey, you okay?"

Yeah maybe she's just… Willow felt the touch on her shoulder and finished her thought aloud, "Tired."

Kitchen continued in her motherly tone, "Okay, let's get you something to eat; I'm sure that will help get you started for the day."

Smith chimed in, "Yeah, you know breakfast is the most important meal of the day." She gave Willow the once over, "Hey, where's your badge?"

Willow put her hand up and confirmed to herself that she had indeed forgotten the important piece of her outfit. Well, that is just – interesting.

Breakfast seemed to fly by for both Willow and Tara. Willow had begun a new mission to monitor Tara's behaviors and habits. If there was any apparent illness that would explain Tara's attraction to her, she was determined to discover it. She wanted to believe that Tara felt the same way for her that she did, but the odds of that seemed astronomical.

Willow didn't feel that hungry and forced herself to have some cereal. She noticed Tara barely touched her food. She opened her notebook to the third to last page and began her log. Tara seemed relaxed, but a little bit distracted as she talked back and forth with her companions and the elders who sat near them at breakfast.

At lunch, she updated her log again. She was further away from Tara so it was more difficult to rate her interactions with the others, but she did notice Tara only picking at her salad. Tara seemed to glance her way occasionally but turned away quickly when Willow caught her gaze. More than once Willow caught herself doing the same thing, but she didn't want to assume anything – she was research girl. This was an important assignment.

The two districts let out of language class almost at the same time, so the girls went over to dinner together. Willow loved it when they could go over to the cafeteria together, because that usually meant not only did she get to walk with Tara, and stand in line with Tara, but also they sat with the other girls at dinner.

Willow had been trying hard to focus on her Japanese, so she hadn't really said much by the time they reached the counter. Tara went ahead and started picking out items for dinner. Willow watched with anticipation: fruit salady ambrosia, veggie medley, a piece of fried chicken and some mashed potatoes. That seems like a healthy size meal. Willow grabbed some macaroni and cheese and a piece of chicken as well. They do have good chicken here, she thought to herself. Tara picked up some little Jell-O squares in a bowl for dessert. Willow perused the desserts. She couldn't decide between chocolate cake and a pretty piece of lemon meringue pie.

Tara watched as Willow looked over the desserts; she seemed stupefied. Tara leaned into Willow in a loving bump. Then she reached across Willow with her left hand. She grazed her softly as she went for the piece of the chocolate cake to Willow's right. She whispered quietly, "We'll share it, go ahead and grab the pie; I know you want it too."

Willow looked down where she felt the light touch on her arm. A shiver of excitement ran through her and her mouth watered when she realized what part of Tara was touching her. With all the strength she could muster, she responded softly, "Oh, I'd love that."

They walked over together to beverage area, selected their drinks, and joined Conley and Colson who were already looking for a place that would accommodate the six of them. Tara pointed to an area that could take them with four on one side and two – offset a bit – on the other. They headed over to sit down.

Willow's mind was racing. Four and two, do we take the two, no. Do I sit next to her or across from her and share the cake over the table. She quickly realized she needed to position herself next to Tara so one of them could sit across from her companions. However, Conley and Colson were ahead of them. If they split the table… Willow panicked.

Conley turned to face the red-faced girl. "You know I think even your freckles just blushed." Conley's comment earned her a second wave of pink that moved past Willow's face down her neck.

Colson was a little bewildered by the outburst. Watching the exchange between Conley and Rosenberg didn't help clear that up any. She leaned over toward Tara, "Did that make any sense to you?"

Tara considered for a moment before she offered an explanation. "Willow's always thinking."

Colson stopped walking and looked at Tara, "That doesn't clarify anything." Conley nodded in agreement. Willow stood quietly wishing she could hide under a table.

"We're sharing the cake." She began tentatively, "She figured out how we're supposed to sit, calculated it down to the person, and in her way she's letting you know where to sit only it didn't all come out of her mouth." Tara got a smile on her face and looked directly at Willow, "She's cute that way."

A fresh wave of red enveloped Willow. She thought for a moment that even her feet might be blushing. She debated covering her face with her food tray.

By now, Kitchen and Smith had joined them and were looking at the girls in confusion. Smith was about to ask why they were stopped when Colson continued, "O k a y." It was obvious that Colson was unsure about Tara's interpretation and her voice betrayed her disbelief.

Tara looked around at all the faces and realized by Colson's response and the silence that followed that she alone understood what Willow was trying to convey. The thought made her feel proud. Tara turned to face Willow. "Where do we need to sit?"

She made a circle with her finger to include herself with Tara and her companions. Willow's voice actually squeaked, "Me first." She lowered her face and grinned sheepishly.

"Okay, Dozo," Tara motioned in polite gesture for Willow to lead the way. Willow moved one foot behind the other and feigned a curtsey. Tara laughed and tipped an imaginary hat and followed behind.

Conley and Colson looked at each other in shared amusement and followed behind Tara. Smith looked at Kitchen. She had her lip raised so high several teeth were showing on the one side. Her reaction betrayed her; she thought Willow and Tara were very strange. Kitchen was concerned with the display.

"My mom always said that if you do that thing with your lip there," she made a movement with her hand toward her face and did the crooked lip, "that it might get stuck that way."

Smith joined the procession toward the table. "I think your mom got that confused with something else."

Kitchen bit her lip. She didn't dare say anything more to Smith on the subject. Her mom used to say not to cross your eyes or they would get stuck. Doing that with your face, that really just led to wrinkles. And wrinkles weren't necessarily bad if they were in good places. Laugh lines, that's what she called them, the wrinkles at your mouth and cheeks by your eyes.

Sister Kitchen settled in at the table across from Willow. She examined her food selection and as she sat in place, she inconspicuously looked up without raising her head. She felt a little as if she was eavesdropping, but she wasn't really paying attention to their conversation, only observing the two of them. They were quite the duo. She wondered again, why they had not been paired up together.

Tara and Willow were talking quietly about their food something about color scheme. Willow simply looked enchanted by the girl on her left. Kitchen suddenly imagined Willow twenty-five years older, a little grey in her hair, soft laugh lines near her eyes and deeper creases at her dimples. She looked at Maclay. She was smirking at Willow. Kitchen wondered if she would have the smile lines only on the one side of her face and a few lines above her left eye.

Kitchen looked over at Smith who was busy looking like she was carrying on a silent interrogation of her food. The edges of her mouth turned down, and when she concentrated or relaxed, the expression on her face was a natural frown. She stabbed a vegetable as if it had personally offended her. Kitchen began her own quiet reflection about how life has a way of imprinting itself on you.

Tara thought the evening meal went by far too quickly. She knew that was because she was sharing her meal with Willow and the others. They only had one more class before they could rest for the day, and she was certain the conversation with Willow tonight would be interesting. She ignored her companions as they walked back toward their next class. Willow and the others had taken some sort of detour. The air was chilly and Tara instinctively clung to her books.

Tara thought about her morning with Willow. She knew she had left Willow in a precarious condition when she left that morning. She had seen Willow's face; and knew that her mind was running on over-drive trying to figure out what she had meant by her comment.

Tara laughed to herself. I can't believe I said that aloud. Poor Willow. Ha, it almost serves her right though, she was teasing me all morning. A smile slowly crept across Tara's face.

"You're right, she does look like we said something funny," Colson mentioned to Conley. They were observing Tara as they crossed the breezeway.

That was pretty funny though. Actually, it serves me right. Tara was lost in her own reflections and did not hear the discussion going on around her.

"How about it? Care to share what you're thinking about with the rest of the group?" Conley requested.

I don't know how she does that. It's not as if I think about that kind of stuff all the time, it's just when we're together…

"It's kind of funny how she get's that faraway look on her face." Conley continued.

She doesn't even have to try. She just looks at me…all freckly, cute, and adorable. Tara's thoughts drifted as she recreated recent moments with Willow in her mind. Their nights together were enchanting, and she was soon swept away in sensations. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and in her mind she was looking down, watching Willow as she concentrated on marking her skin. She loved watching Willow. And imagining her gentle yet persistent attention as she applied her efforts, Tara felt her body respond to the memory of getting her keepsake.

Tara was startled and embarrassed when she bumped into a pole. Conley and Colson erupted into a fit of laughter. They stopped walking to experience the moment.

Colson just chuckled, "I just reduced the amount of space between us until she subconsciously started moving over. She was definitely not all here."

Tara looked at the giggling girls. She quickly realized they had been planning something for a little bit of time, she didn't remembered leaving the cafeteria, let alone making the walk nearly all the way to their classroom before the dreadful pole moment. Tara looked left and right to see who might have seen her. Okay good, minimal fallout she glanced around toward the back and there were just a few elders in the area. Good, no one I know. She looked over her shoulder, and Sister SMITH! Would it be wrong to say "crap?"

Tara felt her heart sink and she hung her head. Her hair fell over her face and she wanted to retreat to a tiny space out of view from the others. She knew Smith was already behaving oddly toward her, and now she had walked into a pole. No sooner had her hair hit her face, than she felt a warm hand on her arm. She looked up to see Sister Kitchen looking at her with concern.

Tara shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. "I'm just a klutz I guess." She replied for only Kitchen to hear.

"Well, it wasn't entirely your fault." Kitchen whispered back. "I think that Colson is a sly one. She took advantage of a weakness," Kitchen looked quickly back toward Smith. "But we'll go with klutz for now." Kitchen winked at Tara. "But you need to be careful who you trust to set your path."

Tara considered Kitchen's statement for a moment. That was what she had done. She was walking beside Colson and did not notice the Sister's gentle drift to the right. Hitting the pole was the consequence for Tara moving off course. Tara clutched her books tighter when she realized the implications of what Kitchen had just revealed to her. You need to be careful who you trust to set your path.

Tara looked back again toward Willow and Sister Smith who had both stopped a few feet away to give her some space. She couldn't quite place the look that she was reading from Smith: suspicion, judgment, superiority. Willow was clutching her books tightly to her chest. Tara absentmindedly shifted her right arm up a little and moved her thumb slowly across the area just below her clavicle. Willow's eyes followed the movement. Tara felt her thumb, she glanced at Willow and when their eyes met, they both blushed. Tara hung her head quickly and Willow looked away. Smith saw the exchange and smiled in self-satisfaction.

When Willow saw Tara hide behind the curtain of her hair, Willow closed the gap between them and softly touched her arm. Smith was right behind her, as if she was curious to witness the exchange between them.

"I fell down here once." Willow started in her normal voice. "You remember that day that I smacked Smith in the nose?" Willow tilted her head back toward Smith.

Tara realized quickly what Willow was attempting to do. "Oh, that's true. That was a very bad day for you. It looked like it hurt when you fell."

Tara raised her eyebrows almost to the top of her forehead. "Me?" She shook her head in mock denial, squinted her eyes a little and wrinkled up her nose, "No, of course not." A smirk slowly emerged.

Willow feigned mock embarrassment, "I can't believe you didn't tell me you saw that." Smith was watching the two of them, now very confused.

Tara continued, "I guess it could have been worse, I could have dropped my books."

"Or flung spaghetti sauce at your companion trying to emphasize a point," Willow pointed out.

Willow smirked, "Well, there may be pictures of me, but I believe there are some of you too." Willow chucked, "Sister Squirrel cheeks."

Tara laughed, "Did we get some of the food art we made on Smith Shimai?" Tara and Willow both turned to face Smith who had been observing the exchange.

"I don't recall, but even if we didn't, we all will remember her holding up her crust like she was some kind of Jedi Knight." Willow mocked the movement Smith made when she attempted to defend herself against the pizza topping war.

Conley and Colson were watching the exchange with amusement. "Well, that was pretty funny." Colson offered. "And when you asked for help, that was classic."

"Well, when you're in trouble, you should ask for help," Smith responded and with comment that looked lovingly toward Tara and Willow in turn. "You'd be surprised where you find allies."

With that comment, Smith started the group moving again toward their class. Tara wondered what all these events meant for her, especially if insignificant moments in life have larger implications.

The last class of the day seemed to take forever. Willow had stopped paying attention and was doodling in her notebook. She eventually opened to the last few pages and found her new Tara log. She added Tara's recent collision with the pole to her now growing list documenting her potential condition. She absentmindedly started filling in the spaces in the vowels on the page, first the "o"s, then the "a"s and "e"s were colored in. Then she started working through the rounded consonants. Willow's eyes lost their focus for a moment.

Willow shook her head trying to stay awake. It didn't make any sense yet, but she was sure if she kept up with her observations she would begin to see if there was something to explain Tara's affection for her. In the back of her mind though, she was also considering the possibility that there really was no other explanation for Tara's apparent fondness of her. And the thought that Tara was simply falling for her petrified Willow.

She wrote their names: Willow Rosenberg & Tara Maclay. She looked at it. Tara sure has a lot of "a"s in her name. Willow ran her fingers over the writing as she studied it. I think there was a Goddess, Tara. She is a goddess, I mean look at her. She has such classic features. Her nose is so perfect and those big doe eyes. I could get lost in them. Willow blinked. She looked back down at the notebook. Clay that's earthy and Tara, well a different spelling would be earth. Hmmm, that's interesting. I'm a tree and she's earth. Willow blushed when she let her mind explore that analogy. I wonder what her middle name is.

Willow looked up at the clock: ten until nine. A yawn escaped. She tried to catch it with clinched teeth. The late nights were starting to take their toll, and Willow wondered if Tara was feeling the effects of reduced sleep as well. She even felt sluggish in her own thought processes. Willow added "sleep" to her paper and put a question mark next to it. Willow started making little hearts above the "i"s and filling them in.

I need to find out Tara's previous sleep habits to compare and contrast. How can I risk talking to Tara about sleep without raising questions though? She would probably think I was asking something else. Willow let out a frustrated breath. How can I find a way to work that into a general conversation with the others? That might be less obvious, but bringing it up might open a whole other can of worms. Willow chuckled. Speaking of worms, Sister Smith had all but volunteered to help. What did she mean? Willow considered starting another log on Smith. Maybe one of the other Sisters… Willow jiggled her head as she shuttered. No.

Sister Smith nudged her, "Dozo," she whispered. Willow's eyebrows lifted when she realized she had no idea where they were in the exercise; and it was her turn. She blushed a fiery shade of red. This just has to stop.

Across the hall, Tara was trying to listen to the Elders as they recited their sentences for the instructor but she was finding it hard to focus. She was starting to feel like Japanese was just too difficult. All the studying was exhausting; Tara's mind wandered. I do spend a lot of time with Willow, but it isn't scheduled study time, it is scripture time really. She tried to get back on track willing her mind to concentrate.

This particular sentence structure was frustrating; they were learning "koto." How can one word change the entire structure of a sentence? Like questions, there's no telltale inflection to indicate a question was coming, just a "ka" at the end. A sigh escaped. Sister Conley looked over and a forced smile emerged. Tara made a mental note: Conley looked tired too. In her distraction, she did not notice the elders had stopped speaking.

"…koto ga dekiru. ii desu ka?" Tara's reverie was suddenly interrupted. Her teacher was standing in front of her looking expectantly. Tara, No! Don't think that. Never ever think something like that. Tara berated herself for the jinxing. And if you miss the whole section in front of it, you're really screwed. Tara rolled her eyes and chastised herself for thinking the word "screwed."

"Gomen nasai, nani desu ka?" [Excuse me, what?] "Mo ichido kudasai masu ka?" [One more time please?] Tara felt the wave of red moving up her neck to her chin. She fought back the urge to hide behind her hair.

"Makure Shimai, yorokobu beki inoru koto no watashi tachi o michibiku de shiyo u ka?" [Sister Maclay, could you lead us in praying.]

Oh, no, don't panic. Sometimes missing a word or the whole thing makes no difference. Tara struggled to decipher the content of the teacher's request as she replayed in her mind what she remembered from the sentence. I, no we, oh no…okay I can do this. And it's a question…She's looking at me.

Tara's teacher was standing patiently waiting for Tara, but she could tell Tara was distracted and a little unnerved. "Mo ichido" She spoke slowly for her, "Sore ha inori no guruupu o michibiku koto ga dekire ba yoi. [It would be good if you could lead the group in prayer.]

Just as she breathed a sigh of relief, another wave of trepidation filled her as she realized she was going to have to lead the prayer. In her frame of mind, she wasn't sure she could find the words and using the "koto," they would expect that now.

Tara stood and folded her arms across her chest and whispered a silent bequest for clarity. Okay, I can do this.

Both districts let out a little early. Tara wondered if it was because the instructors had dates.

The groups headed into the hall for an evening song before they would retire for the night. They could hear another group around the corner singing in German and the tune was familiar. Everyone looked around at each other to see who would make the decision which song to sing. Tara decided right then, that tonight, Friday night, would be for singing. She knew singing was the only thing that really cleared her head. She just needed the buy in from one vocally apprehensive redhead. A smile began to emerge. With a gleam in her eye, she glanced across the room and caught familiar green orbs shining back at her. Tara bit her bottom lip and covered it with the other one.

Willow didn't mean to stare, but the look on Tara's face warmed her heart. A grin erupted without warning and Willow's tongue snuck out between her teeth and lips in her unfettered glee. Tara was looking at her!

Someone said a number, but Willow wasn't paying attention and in moments, the group had started singing. She was already behind and there was little hope of catching up. This song was too fast for her to read the hiragana anyway. She opened up her songbook and glanced over at Smith's book for the page number. When she returned her gaze across the room, she saw Tara had actually opened her book as well, but under a cover of blond hair, Willow saw Tara still focusing on her.

Willow thought she might fall. Her legs felt weak and rubbery. She felt a rush of heat and a pink flush colored her cheeks. She closed her eyes in concentration. Don't do it! Not in front of everyone! She chastised herself for her blunder. She didn't want to look around, but she felt as though a pair of eyes were boring a hole through her from the direction of her companions. Sister Smith was eyeing her. That can't be good.

Tara breathed a sigh of relief when she got out of her day clothes. She took off her badge and looked at it before placing it on the desk. Just for a moment, she didn't want to think about Japanese or anything; but the foreign looking writing on the black and white nametag was just there and it seemed to ridicule her. In frustration, she grabbed her songbook and glanced around the room. Her companions were still in the bathroom finishing their nightly routine. It seemed so empty without anyone there. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the silence. She hugged the book, the texture of it was comforting, not quite cloth, but kind of soft for a hard cover.

Tara heard the noise from the door handle and was sad that her time alone was over, but when she opened her eyes, a tired but happy looking girl stood quietly just a few feet away. She had positioned herself in front of the door and leaned against it. Tara closed the gap between them. Her eyes were searching for the reason behind Willow's surreptitious entrance.

Willow blinked slowly and said softly, "I missed you." The words had come out before Willow had a chance to censor them.

Tara nearly repeated the comment, but stopped herself. What am I thinking; this is not the best time for this. She knew she needed to say something; she couldn't leave the sentiment hanging out there. That would just hurt Willow. She knew what she really wanted to do, but the others might be back any moment. She just couldn't take another embarrassing event today. She looked down at her book. "I was thinking, I needed some help," Tara got a gleam in her eye when she realized she was about to say something in a Willowish style, "in a duet-y way."

Tara realized immediately that she was still holding the book to her chest when Willow's eyes landed there.

"Oh, I see." Willow's mouth went dry. She contemplated for a moment before she continued. "So, you want a little duo action?"

The look in Willow's eyes took Tara's breath away. She hadn't anticipated that response from Willow. She looked simply hungry, no starving. "Yes, with singing, but no dancing because that would be off the plan." Tara smiled shyly as she tried to dig herself out of the innuendo hole she knew she was falling into – again!

Willow giggled, "And then, maybe if we're not too tired, we could do some Chance and Community Chest?" She studied Tara's expression before continuing, "uh…cards…for our game. We don't have to do very many, but if we do a little every night, by the time all the pieces are in place, we should be able to play on p-day next week." Willow looked absolutely hopeful. She had guessed correctly that Tara meant a duet in music not duet in the touchy feely sense.

Tara considered for a moment what Willow had just done for her, and she was actually grateful. She sucked in a breath. "Okay," was all that Tara managed to say. Everything else she was thinking would just lead them in the wrong direction and she really needed study time – productive meaningful study time.

"Oh, sure, I'll come." Tara looked back at her desk to make sure there wasn't anything else she might need before she realized how the sentence sounded. "Out…" she added, then shook her head, "with you…" She turned back to see if Willow had taken the mental gymnastics journey with her. She was glad that Willow appeared to let her comment go. She completed the sentence in a near whisper, "to the hall…" Tara didn't realize Willow was internally choking on the phrasing of her own sentence and hadn't really caught on to what she'd said in response.

Tara moved forward toward the door, but Willow appeared to be lost in her own world. When she was almost upon her, Tara took a measured breath. Willow was still blocking the door. After another slowed step, she finally said quietly, "Right now?" Tara resisted the urge to nudge Willow.

"What?…Huh?…Oh…yeah." Willow was still leaning with her back against the door. She put her hand on the doorknob and quickly realized she couldn't open it without moving forward into Tara's space. "Except, well…" Willow took a half step forward, "I kinda boxed us in."

"So, the 'right now' is really 'in a minute' now?" Tara asked with a twinkle in her eye. Tara moved the book from where it was nestled against her chest and dropped her hand and book to her side. "Willow, I um, really shouldn't do this…" She let her eyes wander the course of Willow's body and returned to her eyes. "But if I'm off course already…" Tara recalled the words from Kitchen just a few hours earlier. "You need to be careful who you trust to set your path." Tara took another decisive step colliding gently with Willow and forcing her back against the door. I'm setting my own path. "But I can think of nothing else I'd rather do before we do duets."

As Willow's eyebrows went up in surprise, she felt Tara come firmly against her pinning her against the wooden barrier. Tara's right hand gently caressed her waist and moved up along her side. Willow's eyelids fluttered and her mouth fell slightly open in guilty pleasure. Willow took a quivered breath.

"Just this," Tara gazed deeply into Willow's eyes for any hint she was unwilling. Tara moved back a little, looked down at her hand as she moved it up slowly across Willow's ribcage. She changed the touch to just three fingers, and moved her hand around in front of Willow's armpit and placed her palm on Willow's shoulder. Tara closed her eyes and gently kissed Willow on the forehead. She breathed in deeply capturing Willow's scent.

"Tara? I'm gonna fall," Willow was losing control with the simple delicate touch and the seductive gesture.

"Uh huh. Then we should go," Tara stepped back and took a cleansing breath, "to the lounge."

"Where it's safe," Willow completed thought for them both. I think I need a cold shower.

Willow felt a shiver of energy flow through her; she looked down to where she could feel a warm spot on her skin. Tara's breast was so close to her arm, just a centimeter away if she just moved a little she could…

"Let's go," Tara pulled the door open and she was out of reach. Willow fell in step behind her. No sooner had they exited the room and turned the corner, they nearly collided with Conley and Colson. After a few excuse-me's and "gomen asai" were exchanged, Tara and Willow made their way down the hall toward the safety of the lounge.

"That was pretty close," Willow was able to get out after she flopped on the couch. "After the day I had, that would have just made the blush on my cheeks permanent."

"You too, huh?" Tara looked toward the clock, and then to her book. "I've been embarrassed so many times today." She ran her hand over the cover, "There's just nothing like running into a pole to set the tone for the night."

"Oh, I have you beat," Willow lowered her voice, "Someone got me so flustered this morning, that I missed an entire conversation and had to be brought back to earth by Kitchen Shimai. Smith Shimai was staring at me."

"She saw me hit the pole too. And you know what Kitchen Shimai said to me?" Tara raised her eyebrows requesting the obligatory "what" from Willow.

"She said, and I quote, be careful who you trust to set your path." Tara looked hard into Willow's eyes. "I don't think you are setting my path. And I think Smith Shimai actually offered me her help."

"I don't even want to think about it." Tara shook her head. "What I really need to do is learn my hiragana better and some vocabulary. I'm feeling like such a dweeb. Today I had to lead the night prayer and we're doing that "koto" thing."

"Yeah, us too." Willow volunteered. She was stuck on how cute Tara looked when she called herself a dweeb. Willow scooted closer to Tara and placed her hand on her thigh innocently. "It's okay you know, when we're done with our missions, chances of us remembering how silly we sounded as of this date, very slim…" Willow added hopefully. "Oh, and the pole thing – that will be a minor memory, the more lasting memories will be Pizza-Art Smith and Twisted Sister, Willow."

Tara giggled, "Twisted Sister…That's an image you don't forget – either you or the band. I think Smith has that one guy's hair." She fluffed her hair way up to look like the rock star. She shook her head to get the look just right. Willow let out a bark of laughter.

"As long as you don't think I'm one of them, I'm okay." Willow chewed on her lower lip for a minute, "You don't do you." She looked a little nervous.

Tara saw the face Willow made and laughed, "no, silly." Tara seemed to be considering a thought, "But I do think a couple of songs they sing could be theme songs for you."

Willow looked puzzled, "Really?" Heavy metal was not her thing, but maybe it was Tara's; one never knew in this type of environment.

"Sure, 'we're not gonna take it' or 'I'm me,' either one of those." Tara was enjoying the image of Willow playing air guitar and shouting out the lyrics.

Willow wanted to jot down a note in her Tara log, but now was not the time. Instead, she thought it best to redirect the conversation to a more appropriate lounge activity. "So, you wanna do this thing?"

Tara and Willow sat closely together on the couch. With the songbook between them, they were both looking quite studious. They had decided on the children's song as a good place to start. After a quick consensus on the sounds behind the symbols, Tara changed the images from the text into letter format to her notepad. When she finished, they translated the words to English. That had been Willow's contribution to the exercise. She assumed since they knew the song, it would be easier to learn the Japanese translations.

In addition, Tara guessed Willow just needed a little time before she would be ready to sing again in front of her, so she wasn't going to push. She also assumed Willow wanted to reduce the possibility of an audience when she sang. Tara thought it was cute when Willow told her she called her singing the Willow Warble.

"It's interesting how when things like songs get translated they have different meanings…" Tara began after they both sat staring at the translated text.

"It's the same with poems too. I heard somewhere that one German poem was translated into Japanese and back to German again. When they were done, there wasn't one word in the two German versions that were the same."

Tara continued, "I used to think it was because they have to make sure to hold true to the melody and beat of the song. But that example kinda defeated that notion."

"No, I think to some extent that might be valid, but we really aren't in a position to make that leap right yet." Willow smirked, "Give us a year and a half and then maybe we'll know enough to try and translate our own music." She winked at Tara.

Tara eyed Willow, "You have a song?" The blush from Willow confirmed her assumption. "Will you sing it for me?" Tara didn't realize that Willow's song was about her.

"Oh, I have to wait that long? I'm crushed." Tara raised her hand to her forehead in mock despair.

Willow licked her lips. She was staring at Tara's bottom lip. Her heart skipped a beat. "That," She said with a sigh. She felt the now familiar feeling run through her. She closed her eyes. She tried to count her breaths, but it was no use.

Willow swallowed hard. She took a deep breath and wanted to count to ten. "You said I was hot." Willow was searching Tara's eyes for answers, but she found nothing there to indicate Tara regretted the statement. "Why?"

Tara had known that statement this morning would reverberate with Willow. Like a timeless echo, it would haunt her until she understood why. Tara honestly had no response for her; she only knew what she felt about the redhead. "I can't really answer that…" she let the sentence linger for a moment. "I know you need answers, but I don't think I have any that you'd readily accept." Tara pursed her lips, "But there is something I want to show you."

Willow wondered if this were a vending machine show, or an empty dorm room show. "Uh, okay."

It didn't take Willow any time to respond to Tara's inquiry, "Of course I trust you."

"Then lay down." Tara moved off the couch leaving a very amused and puzzled girl staring back at her. "Trust me."

Willow lay down on her back and she instantly felt vulnerable and insecure. She wrapped her arms around herself.

"Trust me." Tara repeated in a gentle whisper as she came closer and knelt next to Willow. She gently moved Willow's arms. She placed her left palm on her stomach under Willow's ribs. "Just breathe."

Willow tried to relax, but feeling Tara's hand on her body sent shivers through her. Tara applied a gentle pressure against Willow's diaphragm.

"Keep breathing." Tara's voice was soothing, but she continued to apply slight pressure against the rise of each of Willow's breaths. "Singing is about control. This is where you control your tone." Tara raised her right hand. "Close your eyes." Willow speedily complied.

Tara placed a finger on Willow's ear, traced it, and then cupped her hand over it, "This is where you find pitch. You find resonance inside with what is outside." Then she caressed Willow's cheek, ran her thumb across her lips and then moved her hand down across Willow's throat and stopped. She couldn't help taking some time to feel her skin there.

Tara was looking at a thing of beauty. Willow's eyes were closed in complete trust. Tara was feeling her breathe, caressing her skin, and she was enraptured. "Put your hands over your head and keep breathing. Feel the pressure of my hand. Keep breathing into my hand."

She continued with her lesson. "Singing is not just noise you send out from your throat." Tara continued to caress Willow's neck. "It's an expression, but it's also about controlling an instrument which has to be fine tuned with each breath, each note, from here." Tara patted Willow's stomach.

"Now just concentrate and match my voice. Pretend like you're gonna impersonate me to Conley or Colson." Tara stopped caressing Willow's neck. "You can open your eyes, but you need to focus on listening to your voice and mine together." Tara started humming – just one note.

When Willow was able to match Tara's pitch and hold it, she patted her stomach again to signal she could stop for a moment. "Good, now I'm going to change my notes, but I want you to stay on the same note we start on."

Willow simply nodded. She wanted to perform well for Tara and she really was concentrating on the task. She decided Tara was a good teacher, very hands on. That thought made her chuckle. When Tara started humming again, Willow furrowed her brow in concentration.

After Willow successfully remained on her note while Tara went through her intervals, Tara smiled. "Good!" Tara beamed with pride. "Tomorrow you are learning how to harmonize. You'll like that; it's math-y."

"Wait, what? Tomorrow? I was enjoying the touchy-singy duet-y-ness. I'm all laid out with my arms up here."

Tara's sideways grin appeared, "I see that." Tara looked around the lounge area and then down at her left hand still resting softly against Willow. She moved her palm slowly across Willow's stomach as if she were painting a canvas with her touch. Tara reached out with her right hand and matched the caress on the other side. She felt Willow tremble under her touch.

"I just wasn't sure if you were up for a real duet. Your breathing seems a little…labored."

Willow nodded in agreement. "Want more, now." Tara smiled at the thought that she'd reduced Willow to single syllables.

Tara closed her eyes for a moment as she felt the gentle contours of Willow's body. She stopped moving her hands and looked down at the girl lying below. "You have the flattest stomach," Tara declared simply.

"Do you workout…or…did you before?" Tara moved her hand beside Willow and scooted her legs back against the couch so she could move off the floor and sit next to her. Willow was still sitting with her hands over her head in submission to Tara's voice lesson positioning. Tara looked down to examine more closely what contours she could see through Willow's outfit. Not satisfied she placed her left palm back on her belly and felt the muscling below her ribs.

Willow sensed Tara had decided to pull back the intensity a little, which she wasn't really happy about, but it was probably the right thing to do. "No, not really," She pulled her arms down but couldn't figure out what to do with them. She folded them behind her head.

"Well you are very toned. When you sing, make sure to feel each breath in your diaphragm. That will help you when we start working on your volume control." Tara pressed slightly below Willow's ribs where she had her hand.

"What are you guys doing?" The sudden noise startled the girls and they both jumped. Willow squealed a little.

Smith Shimai was staring at them expectantly. She had observed Willow lying comfortably on the couch, her arms tucked behind her head, and Tara sitting very closely next to her touching Willow's stomach.

"Do you two practice your responses or were you really, eh hmm, singing?" Smith Shimai was visibly confused.

Tara stood up, and faced Smith, "No pre-planning this time," she winked at Smith which earned her another puzzled expression. "Come here, I'll show you." Tara turned to Willow, "Schoochy. New pupil coming into the studio," Tara chuckled. "I'll send you the bill."

Willow quickly moved off the couch to make way for Smith. Smith hesitated, clearly bewildered by Tara's willingness to include her in their nighttime activity. Willow pressed on, "Come on, it's actually interesting." Tara nodded to confirm.

Smith furrowed her brow. "I just don't get you two." Tara and Willow looked at each other and then back to Smith.

Smith realized suddenly that she'd said the sentence aloud. "Oh, um, I mean. Oh, never mind."

Tara sensed there was something on Smith's mind. "Smith Shimai, please, come over and sit down." She patted the couch where Willow had been laying. "We don't need to do a lesson, but I think we should talk, don't you?"

Willow bit her lip and looked down to hide her face from Sister Smith. What is she doing? She was screaming inside. Willow absentmindedly stared at her feet and covered one with the other in nervousness.

"No, well, it's nothing really." Smith had backed herself into a corner and she knew it.

Willow took a deep breath. She didn't want to have a conversation with Smith, she wanted to run and hide, or possibly find that spare room and discuss her abs with Tara some more. Better yet, she wanted to feel Tara's abs. Oh get serious Willow; you want to do more than feel her abs. Willow was amazed that the internal admission didn't send a sweeping red blush across her face, but something was different. She suddenly felt confident.

Willow astounded herself even more when she spoke up, "No, come on Smith Shimai. This is important." It is? What is? What am I doing?

Just stop it! Willow had no idea what she was thinking. But she felt momentum and words were about to leak out. Oh great! "Smith Shimai, please? Something is on your mind. It's better not to hold these things in."

Tara fought with all her strength to keep her jaw from falling open. Go Willow.

Smith knew she'd done it to herself. She had no other choice then deal with the issue head on, but she didn't want to. And, she could be wrong about them. "Okay," she said before she realized she was moving toward them.

Tara scooted closer to the edge of the couch to make room for Smith Shimai to sit down.

Willow started, "I don't want you to feel like we're ganging up on you." She leaned forward taking a slightly aggressive position. "I feel like you have something to say to us."

Willow seized the opportunity to try to lighten the mood, "Good, because none of us want to be donkeys."

Tara looked at Willow and back to Smith. A little chuckle escaped, "She's quirky, but cute."

Smith had taken a few moments to decipher what Willow had meant before shrugging it off and continuing. "I don't want to assume, or presume or whatever, but you guys, well you seem like you spend a lot of time together for not being companions."

"Well, it's probably nothing, but I thought you should know there are rumors on the floor about two sisters getting too close, if you know what I mean, and I don't want you to be associated with that."

Smith looked right at Willow who appeared to have not understood the statement at all. "There are some sisters making out."

Tara turned to Willow, "She doesn't want people to think it's us because we spend so much time together and we're not companions."

Willow looked at Smith; she was actually nodding. She looked back at Tara for some direction.

Willow felt a chill run up her spine when she looked directly into Smith's eyes. She looked sincere but there was something else. "You think it's us."

Tara tried to repress the expression of shock that threatened to come out onto her face. Smith wasn't so careful.

Smith was dumbfounded and it wasn't a good look for her; her face contorted and her lip snarled. After she made a clicking sound with her mouth, she took a short breath. She decided to take the offense, "Well what would you think?"

Good one Willow, Tara silently applauded and mentally projected thoughts of strength.

Smith continued; she was finally getting some courage, "I've seen the way you look at her. And when I came out to check on you today, she was touching you." Smith turned her gaze on Tara.

"Oh you made up your mind long before today." Willow was on a roll too. Her mind wasn't racing as she thought it should be. She didn't understand the sense of calm that had overtaken her. There seemed to be something else, some force at play.

Tara sat quietly observing the exchange. She didn't want to interrupt the flow and Willow's manner seemed out of character. She thought back to her own conversation with the sister and realized Willow's comment was absolutely correct. This wasn't about them.

Tara reached out and placed a hand on Smith's knee with compassion and reverence. Willow watched and realized something profound had taken place in Tara as well.

Willow got up and went to sit on the other side of Sister Smith. Smith's expression was priceless. She was mortified and confused at the same time. It was a snug fit, but Willow used her hips to wiggle in. The move made Tara chuckle. Smith was surrounded.

"See what I mean?" Tara caught Smith's eye again and nodded toward Willow, "quirky."

Willow chose to ignore the comment. Willow took a hold of Smith's hand. She felt almost as though she could see the bristles forming on the back of Smith's neck. "Smith Shimai," Willow began, "We made a rule." Willow looked to Tara to make sure that Tara understood what she needed. Tara nodded in acquiescence. There was no betrayal.

Willow continued, "We made a rule that anything said here is safe. You are safe here." Willow took her other hand and placed it on top of their clinched hands. "All we have is each other while we're here. And this is really hard and stuff. So I," Willow looked for another affirmation from Tara who had already begun nodding, "we feel very strongly about being open about things."

Willow continued, "Tara and I are very close, I feel like I've known her all my life. Maybe our time as companions just isn't right now." Willow took a breath, "I won't get that with you." She'd not considered this before just that moment. This might be the only time she would ever have to get to know Smith. She shook off the thought and continued. "You've seen the…pairings…here," Willow made her token air quotes around pairings, "It doesn't make any sense to have us in threes. There has to be some other reason, some other plan at work."

Tara was listening intently to what Willow had to say. She sensed no deception, nor did she feel Willow was struggling to convey a point. She seemed so calm. There was no hint of her idiosyncratic and endearing babble.

Smith considered for a moment what Willow was saying. She looked back and forth between Willow and Tara. Willow thought for a moment that Smith looked like she was watching a tennis match.

Willow said quietly mostly to herself, "That's no good." She got up again, and knelt on the floor in front of Smith and next to Tara. "So the point is, you are safe here, with us. You can say what's on your mind." Willow let the words settle before adding, "Do we make you feel uncomfortable?"

Tara felt it was a good time to speak. "It's okay, you can be honest. What is it?"

Willow wriggled a little to get more comfortable kneeling in front of Smith. Her legs silently hollered for a change in position, which she denied. I might was well get used to this.

After an uncomfortable silence, Willow shifted again. "Let's have it. My knees are getting stiff here, but I refuse to move until you spit it out. Oh, and I prefer brutal honesty to sugar coated garbage." Willow put on her resolve face.

Smith glanced at Tara and she seemed to exude a feeling of warmth. Tara was looking over at Willow and seemed amused by the redhead's commitment. Tara glimpsed Smith looking at her out of the corner of her eye and turned to face her. The silent exchanged between the three seemed to go on for several minutes.

"I know we're all busy looking at each other and stuff, but I believe there is still a question on the floor." Willow did a toothy fake grin which transformed into a genuine heart felt smile. "And I've kinda committed now to kneeling here, so if you could just say something pretty soon that would be good." Willow squirmed on the floor in discomfort. Her feet were falling asleep.

Tara laughed, "Maybe you could just make something up this time and come back if you can figure out what you need to say." Tara caught Smith's eye and giggled. She then simply mouthed "quirky."

Tara's amusement and calm demeanor seemed to placate Smith. "No, no I don't think you make me uncomfortable."

Willow shifted a little bit again on the floor, "Are we safe with you here, Smith Shimai?" Willow looked for confirmation from Sister Smith; she needed to know if Smith understood their agreement in the lounge.

When Smith saw the look on Willow's face, she understood immediately what Willow wanted to know. A million thoughts seemed to rush through her head. She finally replied, "I'm not sure; I guess it depends on what you say."

"If we have no trust, we can't move on past this I guess." Willow seemed deflated. Smith had answered her question, so she was at least relieved that she could move again. "I'm taking a break." Willow rolled over and pushed herself back up onto her feet. The tingle of pain made her wince. Tara watched as she hobbled over to the bathroom area and was out of sight.

Tara turned back and faced her, "If you change your mind, we'll still be here if you want to talk." Tara tucked her hands together on her lap, "Or you're welcome to stay if you don't mind a little study and song."

"No thanks," Smith breathed a sigh of relief. She felt as though she'd dodged a bullet, "I think I'll head back in."

When Smith was out of sight, Willow toddled out from across the hall. Tara guessed she had been waiting for Smith to leave. "You okay?" Tara was concerned about what Smith had said and how Willow would react to it.

"Yeah, entirely, which is surprising, ya know?" Willow sat down on the couch. She checked the area before speaking again. "Do you think it's us?"

Willow was confused by Tara's confidence in the statement, "How can you be sure?"

"Because, my little redheaded worrier, the rumors are about some girls seen on the third floor." Tara giggled and continued in more muted tones, "Apparently," she paused for effect, "we're not alone."

Willow's eyes went wide in surprise and quickly furrowed and a range of other emotions danced across her face. Tara was amused and could almost hear Willow's thoughts as they progressed.

There are others, oh, there are "Others", hmm we should go and see if we can find them, no, then we might all get caught, but maybe they need someone to talk to. If we went up to the third floor, then maybe we might be seen, and then we could be caught. No, that's bad, can't do that, better to be discrete. At last, a smile emerged on Willows face. And we have a room.

Tara watched as the smile shown brightly and Willow's eyes twinkled in delight. Then, just as quickly, Willow fixed her gaze on Tara. In an instant, her eyes became seductive pools of sparkling green. Tara felt like she was on an airplane and the cabin pressure had dropped. If she had been standing, she knew her knees would have buckled. She is so hot! Tara took a deep breath. "We need…" she exhaled, "a diversion."

Willow wasn't certain if she should take Tara seriously or not, "What?" she took a beat and then voiced another higher pitched, "Whaaat?"

"Maybe we should do properties instead – just so we're clear," Tara let out a pre-emptive chuckle, "about the meaning of diversion."

"Fine," Willow let out her breath. "One diversion, check." She took another measured breath. "Community chest saved for later." With that, Willow hopped off the couch and took her work position on the floor behind the table. She pulled out her Monopoly notes.

She tapped her pencil for a few seconds while she considered her layout. Tara looked over her shoulder trying to see what she was doing before she selected a position next to Willow on the floor. Then Willow mumbled under her breath, "To heck with that."

Tara was startled when Willow got back up off the floor leaving her organized pencils and pens lying on the table. All she brought up was her note pad and one pen. She gently swatted Tara's leg, "up" and sat across from her on the couch Indian style. One leg was up against the back cushion, but she was comfortable. Tara mirrored Willow's position.

"Okay," Willow put the notebook between them so Tara could see. "Two purple, three light blue, then three more different purple, the other's were kinda plumy these are more violet, then orange, red, yellow, green and the last two blue. We have four railroads, and then some utilities and tax spots. We've named our first two purple: Hickville and Plainview." Willow squirmed a little and stifled back a giggle and blush. Diversion Willow!

Willow wanted the naming conventions to be fair and she had thought this through, "Okay there are twenty more properties to name of assorted colors. This is our board. I think I should get two of the three colors for yellow and blue, and you should get two of the three for green and red. We split orange, purple and the last two blues."

Willow drew a line and labeled her sheet with their names. She jotted down the colors and numbers for reference.

"Well, um, don't take this wrong, but you are so concerned with fair that you're making a chart." Tara tucked her hair behind her ear. "What's that coming from?"

"What do you mean?" Willow furrowed her brow trying to figure out what was wrong with having a chart.

"This is a game. Why is it so important that we name the exact number of squares, what if you have three better ideas than any of mine?" Tara looked deeply into Willow's eyes. "What is it?"

Tara covered Willow's hand with her own and took the pen. "Let's let go of the rule of fair, and just enjoy free flowing ideas with each other for a while. There's no pressure or competition. I'm not going to judge your names." Tara squeezed Willow's hand gently, "Okay?"

Willow simply nodded. Tara continued. "I'll take notes. Just say whatever comes to mind."

"This isn't part of a psychological profile, is it?" Willow asked half- heartedly.

"Hmm, no I don't think so; it's not part of some evil scheme." Tara was grinning again and Willow was having trouble concentrating. "Here let's do this instead." Tara folded the paper in half lengthwise and creased just the edges for a marker, then two times more the other way. With her grid, she then used Willows scriptures to guide her hand in drawing the line.

"Okay, for this one, I'm steering the boat," Tara stuck her tongue between her lips as Willow often did and gave her best toothy grin in appreciation of the redhead. Willow acknowledged the gesture. She thought quickly for a moment, and then Willow did her best Tara half grin in response.

"Okay, light blue what do you think of: go!" Tara prepared her pencil waiting for Willow.

Tara ducked her head in embarrassment. "I can't make that a property…think bigger."

"Well its blue it reminds me of you, that's bigger than anything I can think of."

"Sure, actually huge, huger than huge, it's enormous even," Tara smiled; she loved doing Willowspeak. Tara started writing, "And I'm adding Ocean."

Willow stared blankly at Tara, but nothing was coming to mind except Tara's eyes and other attributes which she dared not say. Diversion Willow.

"Okay clearly you have issues," Tara laughed. "What does purple have to do with us?"

Willow looked shocked, "Tara, purple is us, blue and red, the color for gay; it is you and me."

Tara tucked in her lips and took a breath, "We're never gonna get this done. Okay I'm putting in Hershey here, 'cause that reminds me of us. Your turn."

Willow scratched an imaginary itch near her collarbone. She couldn't help but look in the area where she had left her mark on Tara. Her mouth watered a little, "Oh, okay, there is a city in near San Diego called Hillcrest."

Tara jotted it down and added a word under the light blue column. "What else?" She hadn't realized she'd just sent Willow's mind on a roll.

"Terra Haut, that's in Indiana for light blue, and how about Happy Valley for orange." Willow started playing with an imaginary piece of lint when she realized that Tara hadn't followed along with her line of thought, "What does purple mean?"

Tara was starring at the chart and making notations on the grid. "Royal, I think it means royal, like royalty."

"Okay, Canyon Royale for purple then and Pleasant View for light blue." Willow decided to be sneaky to see how long she could elude Tara with the topic. "And to have a valley you need mountains, how about Twin Peaks."

Willow realized she was doing more naming than she should. "How about red, what does that mean to you?"

"Oh, well, that's your fault actually. That one there," she pointed to Terra Haut: "Tara hot."

"Yeah, but it's spelled like aught which sounds like hot, so I'm keeping it." Willow wrinkled her nose at Tara.

Tara looked over the other choices that Willow had requested. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Willow, you are hopeless." Tara looked at her innocuous suggestions. "Fine." She jotted down several more words under some of the colors and scratched more out. Then she concentrated on green. She filled in four new possibilities. "And what about the darker blue. Fill in the blank, blue…"

"Ha, ha! You mean like the movie?" Tara wrote down two names and moved on. "Oh, and didn't we decide to bring the railroads into this century, maybe name them after Airlines?" She wrote down four that she could think of off hand. "Okay, we're not done, but we have a good start."

Willow glanced over the list, very pleased with her suggestions. She giggled at the few notes that Tara made. Then she fixed her eyes on green. Her eyes widen in realization and she looked back to red. Tara had caught on. "Sunkissed?" Willow was a bit confused.

"Like your freckles." Tara looked around the lounge area again. Satisfied that they were alone, she reached her hand out and gently touched Willow's check bone with her thumb.

Willow melted into her touch using her face to nuzzle gently against Tara's hand. Her voice was husky with emotion, "Only if you are the sun."

"Mmmmm" Willow's head fell back in surrender. She struggled to keep her eyes open and her breathing steady. She tried to control her body's movements but she was losing that battle. As soon as she relaxed under her caress, Tara pulled away. As if some force compelled her, Willow rose up to make contact with the elusive touch.

Tara watched in joyous rapture the rise and fall of Willow's chest as she moved her hands across her skin. She was overcome with need. She leaned into her, feeling the contours of her body as she relaxed into position straddling her hips and moving slowly against her. She felt like she was on fire. Beads of sweat had just started glistening on her brow as she labored for breath in the heat of the moment.

The freckled skin seemed to call to her, begging to be tasted. She looked deeply into the sea green eyes and finding no resistance moved closer to her. She let Willow feel her breath against her lips and moved her mouth just out of reach. The pressure was building, the need, the hunger to satiate, but Tara was committed to this rate of gentle affection. She nuzzled against her cheek and gently touched Willow's face with her lips as she moved closer against her. She felt the electricity rising between them where their faces met. She pulled away again to watch the host of emotions playing on Willow's face, and then she went to her again.

Tara took a deep breath catching the scent of her hair. She licked her lips and sucked on her tongue as she moved toward the inviting flesh of her neck. Her tongue trembled as she reached out with it to taste her. With just the tip, like a finger, Tara touched her; she softly left a wet trail of passion as she traversed the silky region. Willow rolled her head away giving Tara freedom to explore. The invitation further ignited the fire welling deep within her.

Tara moved down, still barely touching Willow's neck with the warm wet muscle. She paused along her clavicle feeling the contours of the bones and muscles then before moving lower. She kissed her, and then used her lips to feel the softness as she continued on her journey. She was breathing hard with anticipation as she moved lower still. She quickly determined that this was the most amazing thing she had ever done. She reached out as far as she could with her tongue hoping to feel the darken circle of flesh hidden under the white cotton.

She felt warmth surge through her body as she anticipated feeling Willow this intimately with her mouth. She lost the ability to control her eyelids as she gave herself.

No, not now! Tara opened her eyes. Willow was staring at her expectantly. They were still sitting quietly in the lounge. "Oh, I'm sorry; I got a little lost there for a moment." Tara was embarrassed, but she felt okay about it. Huh, that's new.

Tara felt her breath hitch and she wondered if she had been breathing heavily while Willow stared at her. "I was, oh nothing." She said quietly mostly to herself.

Tara's behavior was so out of character, Willow started to panic. "Tara, the rule, what is it? You can tell me."

I'd love to show you! "No, I really can't right now." Tara was trying not to panic. Willow could push this, and she really needed to cool down and possibly dry off. Am I sweating?

Willow reached up with the back of her hand to feel Tara's forehead. "Tara you're hot, and I think maybe clammy."

The concern on Willow's face was too much. Tara reached up and grabbed Willow's makeshift thermometer. She pulled it down and gently kissed Willow's fingers. "I'm fine; I just got distracted for a minute."

Willow looked around quickly, "Oh, yeah, sorry, we need to get back to work or go to bed don't we; it's late." She looked toward the clock and realized it was late. "Gosh, where does the time go?" She was clearly disappointed. "We should get going." Willow started to move her legs, but they had stiffened with inactivity.

Tara tried to follow suit, but quickly realized she was a little immobile and weak in the knees as well. "We look like a couple of old ladies." Tara laughed quietly.

"Yeah," Willow stretched her arms out over her head and arched her back trying to get the blood flowing again. "I think my foot's asleep."

"Ha, I think my butt's asleep," Tara retorted another laugh threatened to escape which she stifled. The sound was more of a snort.

Willow looked at Tara and started to giggle. "You said butt." When she repeated butt, she giggled again a little louder.

"No, I don't think so, not to me." Tara was just so cute. Willow gently bit her bottom lip. She felt the pressure and teased herself with her tongue which sent a tingle through her. She bit down trying to kill the sensations she was feeling.

Tara wasn't sure how to explain what Willow had done, so she showed her. She ran her tongue along her lower lip and gently bit it. She closed her eyes, shook her head a little, and looked back at Willow. "That."

Willow's jaw hung open. She realized there was no wetness in her mouth at all. She closed her mouth and sucked on her tongue. "Uh, okay," Willow cleared her throat which had also gone completely dry, "I'll try." She was still attempting to replenish the moisture in her mouth. "Sorry." Willow let her apology sit between them for a moment.

Tara looked down; she had no imaginary lint to play with. She let her hair fall over her face. She really had no idea how to answer Willow's question. She closed her eyes and she suddenly felt very tired.

Willow wondered what Tara was thinking about and why she'd become so quiet. There was obviously something troubling her.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" Willow knew it was risky asking the question, but she didn't want to be a burden to Tara if she needed to have some time to herself.

After a prolonged silence Tara finally admitted. "I don't know if I can do this."

Willow quickly tried to decipher the statement. Images came to mind of her and Tara together, of them studying and reading, and looking in her eyes. Her mind was full of mission related activities and throwing vegetables and singing. Willow was afraid of what Tara was thinking and if she really felt that she couldn't do…whatever it was…what did that mean? Furthermore, she had no idea how to best respond to Tara's apparent anguish.

"Tara, I really don't know what to say." She felt a pain welling deep within her. "Whatever it is, we can get through this." Willow dipped her head down to look into Tara's eyes to see if they held any clue to her current mood. She thought she saw wetness on Tara's cheek. Once the tear was discovered, Willow's eyes filled with moisture. She fought back the urge to sniff, that would just make it worse for both of them. She struggled not to panic.

Tara shook her head; she wanted to explain to Willow her current mindset. She didn't want Willow thinking it had anything to do with her; Tara felt it was her own weakness that had lead her to this moment.

When Tara finally felt ready to speak, she looked up. She saw that Willow had been quietly falling apart. Tara saw the stream of wetness that was still on her cheek and the glistening signs of distress in the normally sparkling green eyes.

"Uh huh," for a second time that night, Willow failed to register much animation on her face with her reply.

Tara held steadfast and didn't react. She wanted to make sure Willow was ok to work through what they needed to. And she hoped the extra time would give Willow a moment to compose herself.

"I don't know if I can keep this up." Tara wasn't sure how to much she should explain. Maybe Willow will understand.

Willow waited to speak until she was fairly certain her voice would not crack. "Keep what up?"

Figures. "This isn't easy." Tara began. Willow was nodding. She's not helping at all. Tara took a deep breath and looked about the floor to ensure they were alone: They were not. A stray sister had wandered down the hall. "Midnight tinkler at ten o'clock," Tara nodded toward the hallway.

The comment was enough to earn her a resounding laugh from the redhead. You are absolutely perfect for me. "Butt and 'tinkler' in one night, that's more than I could have hoped for. It's so…cheeky…" Willow beamed with joy inside. She had gone from utter confusion and fear to joy in the space of two minutes. This is some ride.

Tara tried to keep a straight face, "Cheeky?" She raised her eyebrows, "Actually, the butt is cheeky." The comment earned her a sweet smile from Willow.

After a few more moments, Willow decided to restart their conversation but she wanted to have some fun, there should be no crying. "Tara, what are we gonna do?"

"I honestly have no idea." Tara admitted. "This is all so new. It's different. I don't feel like I have any control over my thoughts. That's bad, right?"

"Buzz…What is an irrelevant value judgment? I'll take: "dual meanings" for four hundred, Alex." Willow tried to sound lighthearted.

"Buzz…,What's new?" Willow phrased the question more like a salutation than an examination.

Tara furrowed her brow, "Oh…what is new is a greeting or perplexing Tara issue." She chuckled at Willow's quick wit.

Willow continued, "dual meanings" for six hundred, Alex." She then waited a moment.

Tara continued, "Can I have "avoiding difficult conversations for eight hundred," Alex?" Tara waited for Willow to pick an avoidance answer.

"I'm sorry, the correct answer is: what are TV shows?" Willow quipped. "I'll take hypocorisms for two hundred."

"Huh?" Tara's mouth fell slightly open as she tried to rummage through her mind for the possible meaning of the word.

"Oh, Okay." Tara thought a moment, "This pet name doesn't directly reference trees."

"Who is Barkley." Willow looked hopeful. Tara smiled as she recalled their earlier connections with Big Bird and his furry red haired pal, Barkley. "I'll take more difficult issues for six hundred, Alex."

Willow considered the opportunity Tara had just presented. She was torn, Tara had clearly seemed upset just a few minutes before and the idea of putting her in an uncomfortable situation made her uneasy. Willow lowered her voice to barely more than a whisper, "I don't want to jeopardize losing you."

Tara thought back to the images she had conjured in her mind earlier. "It's probably easier to keep making Monopoly and playing Jeopardy then to deal with this, huh?" She looked around again,

Willow raised her eyebrows, "Go go, or just go?" After she said it she wasn't even sure what she'd meant by it. "I mean, go somewhere, go to bed, leave go, leave here go, or go and do something go?" The last thought made her lick her lips subconsciously.

Tara watched Willow trying to work out her statement and she was amused. "How do you do that?"

Tara looked down at her feet. "Make me think so hard about what I really want when I'm trying not to."

"Oh I'm sorry, I don't mean to." Willow seemed a little troubled by Tara's implication.

"No, I mean, I was trying to be vague, trying not to be clear, I think." Tara scratched her nose and looked directly at Willow, "Trying not to let you see."

"What don't you want me to see?" Willow hoped they were finally going to clear the air.

Tara reached out and gentle clutched Willow's hand. She stood up and with a simple movement invited Willow to walk with her. They slowly walked around the lounge coffee table and Tara led them down the hall. She paused at the door to look at Willow; she opened the door to the empty room and with a slumberous expression led Willow inside.

Once inside, Tara continued to hold Willow's hand as she reached back and closed the door behind them. Willow was puzzled when instead of releasing her hand, grabbing a chair or turning to kiss her, Tara looked again deeply into Willow's eyes. Her eyes betrayed her need and Willow had no idea what to do with the intensity reflected back at her.

Tara made a step toward the beds and another. Willow stood still for a moment feeling the gentle strain as their arms stretched apart. Another step and she knew she'd have to make a choice. She had no way of telling what Tara really wanted, so she took a tentative step toward her and then, another as Tara continued to move away.

When she reached the bed, Tara sat down waiting for Willow to make the final few steps. When Willow stood next to the bed in front of Tara, Tara finally released her grasp. She surprised Willow when she stood up and moved forward to embrace her. She closed her eyes and felt the redhead against her. She took a step toward the bed with Willow between them, which essentially left Willow off balance.

Tara gripped Willow tighter and guided them both into a comfortable position; Willow lay beneath her just as she had been earlier in her fantasy. That realization overwhelmed Tara and she caught her breath. She felt as though she should be true to the imagery she'd created earlier. Willow seemed compliant or at least accepting of her advances.

As she sat leaning over her, Tara wondered what had possessed her. "I think it's you." Tara began.

"What?" Willow was still wondering what they were doing there, and now Tara was speaking.

Tara hadn't really considered what it was she wanted from their trip to the room, but at least they were alone.

She reached out her left hand with her index finger. With a delicate touch, she slowly started to draw a line from just under Willow's chin, straight down her neck. Willow wasn't sure if she should close her eyes or keep staring at Tara. Tara seemed lost for a moment, in the feel of her skin. It was like an elixir. When she reached the boundary of Willow's garments, Tara traced along the lacey edge with her index finger. She alternated feeling the softness with her finger tips and then slowly turning them over to feel with the other side. She played with the material boundary that was keeping her at bay.

Tara closed her eyes and continued to feel the silky yet forbidden skin and soft cotton reminder of their rules. Gently and slowly she traced from one shoulder, down across the rounded neckline and back up the other side feeling every nuance. She finally reopened her eyes and continued her quest; this time she let her eyes convey her desires.

Willow saw the hunger and love reflected back at her. She tried to blink, but her eyes wouldn't stay open. She was trying not to relax into the sensation, but Tara was just so persistent with her touch. She wanted to stay lost in the feeling, but she knew there would be consequences if she didn't do something quickly. Tara had seemed so unsure of what she wanted. Willow knew she was struggling with her feelings – reconciling her faith and her needs. Yet there were moments, like this one that Tara seemed one hundred percent ready to throw it all away for her. Although the thought was intoxicating, it wasn't practical. They both had to be sure of what they wanted. Without really discussing all of the implications that taking their relationship to a more intimate level would mean, how could either be sure it was what the other really wanted?

With her eyes still closed, Willow continued her internal dialog struggling to stay in control of her emotions. She felt the corner of her top being pulled to the side a little and then a soft breath on her skin where Tara's touch had been only moments before. She inhaled deeply and tried not to hold her breath. It escaped with a shutter. She felt lips, soft, warm lips, just barely grazing her body and she struggled not to lose herself entirely. When the touch turned wet, Willow's heart pounded as if it would thump right out of her chest. It was just too much. She let her head fall back on the pillow. She willed her eyelids open just as Tara glanced up at her.

When their eyes met, Tara looked deeply into Willow as if she had penetrated her soul. Willow understood in an instant that this was a pivotal moment for both of them. Willow reached up and touched Tara's top where her mark lay hidden underneath Tara's own cloth coverings. With a deep and sudden intact of breath, Willow nodded. She reached up with her own hand and pulled her clothes aside giving Tara the freedom to reciprocate their secret token.

Willow had never understood why people marked each other. It had always seemed so primal and unsightly and even possibly a little painful. At the moment though, it seemed the most natural thing in the world. Letting Tara touch her, kiss her and need her, it was the most wonderful feeling. She waited for Tara.

Tara was watching Willow. Clearly she was giving Tara the freedom she had wanted. And as she looked down at the alabaster freckled skin she made a decision. Instead of following through with her earlier fantasy, Tara fought back the desire to taste the inviting skin. Instead, she moved up to Willow, placed her palm over Willow's hand that lay still clutching at her top, and felt the rise and fall of her chest She lean down and gently but reverently kissed Willow softly on the lips. She pulled back a little, sucked on her tongue before leaning down again this time with her face nuzzled into Willow's cheek. Willow barely heard the words Tara whispered. "For me, it's not forty- two…It's you."

Willow was confused by Tara's apparent reluctance to lay claim to her, but when she heard the whispered words, she thought she understood. She loved the way Tara seemed to understand her geekiness and would communicate ideas so Willow would get it. In turn, Willow had been willing to give Tara a sign of her devotion. Tara had asked Willow to wait for her and she wanted Tara to know she was committed to her.

At the moment, Willow thought she would do anything Tara wanted. She wasn't sure if that was for simple assurance or complete surrender. Willow had never thought she would feel that way about anyone. The notion that she could so easily give herself completely to another person suddenly left her a bit unsettled.

Tara felt positively slumberous. She wanted to melt into Willow's arms and stay there forever, but she was coming back to her senses a little bit. Willow had been just laying there ready to let her leave a mark on her. Her red hair flamed brightly against the drab color of the mission bed linens. She was positively adorable. Tara had to fight every instinct she had not to become more intimate with Willow.

She said something. Tara blinked. She sensed a change in Willow. She'd hoped that Willow would recognize her reluctance to move their kissing boundary below the garment line, but one could never tell exactly where Willow's thoughts would lead her. She wanted to reassure her somehow that it wasn't about her.

"You're right, it's late." Tara started to move off of Willow and set her feet on the floor while resting upright on one arm. Better let you get bed, you need some snurgle time."

Willow sat up slowly. Her eyes darted up and about as though she was trying to see something on her eyebrows. She furrowed her forehead in frustration and her nose twitched. The definition was simply nowhere to be found.

"Having a bit of trouble with 'snurgle'?" Tara made a half, half grin. She put a stray hair behind Willow's ear.

"Yeah, it's not English, Japanese, or Spanish, and didn't seem to be Jaspanglish. There were no other funky words in that sentence so you weren't trying for a spoonerism." Willow tilted her head in silent request for a definition.

Tara took a quick breath. "When you were sleeping the other day, there was this cute little purr of a snore and you were sort of gurgling. It was cute; so I made up a word for you. Snore and gurgle – a snurgle. You were snurgling."

"Humph." Willow made a little frown as she processed this bit of information. She gulped. "There wasn't anything else was there?"

Tara raised her eyebrows, she knew she'd set Willow's mind reeling. At least this line of thought would not lead Willow to feel badly about herself.

"Oh…like what?" Tara stifled the urge to giggle. "You know there are the photos, of course."

"Hmm, well…Sister Smith did say something about a strawberry patch or something like that." Tara smiled genuinely.

"Well, Miss Maclay, I believe you're holding out on me." With that, Willow nudged gently against the arm Tara was using for support. Tara was caught off guard, lost her hold and started to fall backward. Willow took advantage and leaned over her. Willow felt a little self-conscious.

Tara settled to a more comfortable position on her back and moved her head a bit to try and get some wayward hairs back out of the way. She raised a hand and tenderly stroked Willow's cheek with just a few fingers. Willow raised her own hand and covered Tara's for a moment, molding her cheek into Tara's open palm.

As Willow gazed down at Tara she realized she had to make some hard choices and none of them would be easy. She resisted the urge to place many, many kisses on Tara's lips. After a few seconds, in one smooth motion she turned Tara's hand so her palm was resting near her mouth and Willow lovingly placed a gentle kiss on the inside of Tara's wrist. She sat back up, and put their hands down and rested them on her lap.

"Tara, we really need to figure out what we're going to do." Willow began the difficult topic. "I feel so torn." Willow looked down and averted Tara's gaze. Willow knew that the beautiful blue eyes would be searching her own for some indication what she was feeling, and she wasn't ready for Tara to see that.

Tara realized the conversation was coming, and she wasn't ready for it. To actually discuss the topic meant that she would have to deal with all the implications of whatever decisions she made. "I know." Tara closed her eyes and left them closed for a moment. When she reopened them again she continued. "Sometimes I just want to keep you here forever and to ignore the world outside. If I don't think about it, then it's not really a decision, you know?"

"I know." Willow stayed quiet; she didn't want to start babbling. This was important.

Tara sat up and positioned herself next to Willow and looked down as well. "Before I met you, I just figured everything would work itself out according to the plan. Go to church, keep the commandments, do the things Heavenly Father wanted me to do, and eventually if I just kept on the right path, someone would come along and then I would know he was the one." Tara took a long breath and continued. "Then the right path seemed to be a mission. My Bishop recommended that I go and I was really afraid. I had thoughts you know, feelings that were wrong."

Willow jumped to Tara's defense. "No Tara, they are not wrong, no feelings are wrong, they are just feelings."

"Yes, they are wrong. They were impure and not in keeping with the teachings of The Church." Tara hung her head. "I knew they were wrong, I felt it. I still feel it sort of. Every time I touch you, in the back of my mind I wonder how I can have these feelings for you that seem so normal and right, and I feel guilty for thinking that."

Willow turned to look at Tara, "So you felt that your feelings were wrong before – in an impure and unwholesome way – but now you feel guilty because you don't feel that way anymore?"

"How?" Tara's question came out as a plea? "How can this be right if it's so complicated and confusing?" Tara tried not to let her emotions take over the conversation and she choked back her feelings. This needed to be a rational discussion.

"Well let's think about it for a minute. What exactly did you feel for the – I'm assuming you mean you had girl feelings before – What did you feel about them?" Willow was also processing what her own responses to these questions would be.

Tara blushed. "Well, when I was little, I wanted to feel them, not in a gross way or anything, just touch them, their hair, hold their hands, and maybe hug them just a little longer than they wanted to hug me, you know?"

"Yeah; I get that." Willow smiled. "As girls we can actually do that more than the boys can, so in a way I guess we're luckier than them."

"When I got a little older, I had a friend. I felt jealous if the girl liked a guy. I wanted her to feel like that about me. I wanted to be with my friend all the time, but the only way to do that was to hang out with her and the guys she liked at the moment. I always felt like a third wheel."

"Well, you were." Willow smiled again and patted Tara's leg. "What was inappropriate about that?"

"I don't really know, I knew the jealousy was wrong so I talked to my Bishop about that. That's when he said that my feelings weren't normal and that I needed to work hard on getting over those feelings. He recommended that I stop hanging out with my friend, so in obedience, I did."

"Yeah, I guess. But it happened over and over again, so whenever I got close to someone and started having those thoughts, I tried not to think about it and that just made it harder. Then I would dream about them, about kissing them and holding them, and that was worse. When I had those urges, I would just stop hanging out with them because that's what the bishop had said that one time, so that was the course of action I followed."

"So first, the Bishop defined your feelings as bad and so they were; and then the Bishop determined that you would deal with your feelings by walking away from them." Willow wanted to make sure she'd comprehended the Bishop's role in Tara's history.

"Yeah, that and concentrating my efforts on Church related activities." Tara considered what Willow had said for a moment.

"And here you are, doing the right thing and you meet me." Willow began. "And suddenly the Bishop's counsel doesn't apply or you don't feel the Bishop's counsel was correct?"

"Well what was different about me then?" Willow was truly interested, yet she didn't want to upset Tara. She knew she was walking a fine line.

Tara suddenly felt very nervous, as though if she said anything, that her inner most thoughts might actually leak out, and she wasn't sure she even knew what those where. All this was so unfamiliar and scary.

Willow saw Tara start to fidget and tighten her hands and play with invisible loose skin on her nails. "Its okay, take your time." After a long silence, Willow asked the question again almost in a whisper, "What was different about me?"

Tara's voice was throaty, "I didn't heed the counsel and I kissed you." Tara looked defeated.

Tara suddenly realized what Willow must have thought, "No, it was good…but it was also bad. I was bad, I didn't follow the plan, I kissed you and I didn't feel bad about it, and I thought I would and that would have confirmed what the Bishop had said all along, but then I didn't and I got confused." Tara took a very deep breath. "And I wanted to do it again." She exhaled the breath, "So I did."

Willow bit back every impulse she had to compliment Tara on her kissing ability but she remained still.

"And I don't want to stop." Tara admitted, "And I should feel bad about keeping you off track."

"You know, I really don't know what it is." Tara confided. "This is sort of new, this thinking about my feelings thing you know." Tara attempted to lighten the mood a little.

Willow smiled, "Yeah, keeping these things on the peripheral is so much easier, but we're kind of beyond that now, I think we need to face it, and what better place to face it, than here."

Tara considered Willow's comment for a moment, "That's the thing though isn't it. We are supposed to resist right now, and focus on the work, and remain true to our temple covenants, which I feel like I am," Tara suddenly flashed to her earlier nipple fantasy. She tried to stifle the twinkle in her eye which Willow politely ignored, "for the most part anyway…" Tara continued quickly, "But the questions that you have to answer to get there, that's where I'm failing."

"I've thought about that too." Willow admitted. "I don't feel like anything we've done has been wrong. It doesn't feel like I've done anything unnatural, impure, or disrespectful of you at all. In fact the more we are together, the more respect I have for you. I admire you so much."

Tara laughed, "Not so fast there missy. You started this conversation, I just happened to go first. Something changed in you earlier. What was that?"

"Oh yeah, so busted." Tara enjoyed catching Willow, especially since she felt like it happened so rarely.

Willow rolled her eyes. "I can't get out of it for good behavior? I didn't even start to babble or anything." Willow was pleading.

Tara shook her head quickly, "Nope, not a chance." She looked up at Willow. "Did you need a hint or two?" Tara thought back to what had prompted the conversation. Something was bothering Willow a little before that. Tara quickly rehashed the night's events incase she needed to give Willow the hint she had offered.

Willow folded her arms over her chest nervously and was almost childlike when she replied, "Ah come on Miss Tara; I feel like I've contributed muchly to this conversation."

Tara smiled, "Yes Miss Willow, but I need to know what you were thinking about when you decided to start this whole "bring it to the forefront" conversation." Tara slowly moved her hand over to the place where Willow had offered to let Tara mark her. "Were you upset that I didn't…do that?"

Willow couldn't look at Tara; she hung her head. "Maybe a little, but it wasn't that."

Willow took a deep breath and tried her best to build her own resolve. She looked directly at Tara, "It's because I want you."

Tara took a moment to try and process exactly what Willow was trying to say. She decided it was best to let the statement sit there until Willow could finish. With a glance, Tara silently conveyed her request that Willow continue.

"I've never…um…well I've never really wanted someone before like I want you, and the fact that I do is really…unsettling."

"Oh," Tara was still a little confused. For some reason she thought Willow was more experienced than her. "Haven't you, um…been…with someone before?"

Willow tried to explain, "There's a difference between just being with someone, and giving yourself completely to someone." It was Willow's turn to look for invisible lint.

"Tara, I want you in every way. I want to be with you completely, totally, no holds barred; I want to give you all the thoughts and feelings I hide from everyone else. I want you to have every part of me. I want you to hold me when I am sad and rejoice with me when I'm happy. I want to share moments with you that no one else can. I want to give you something that no one else has." Willow looked up and deeply into Tara's eyes. "Tonight I would have done anything you wanted me to, and that's very scary."

Willow understood this would be hard for Tara to appreciate. Willow suffered from low self-esteem and she knew Tara did as well. She did want to give Tara a moment to let her words sink in before she continued with her explanation. "Yes, Tara?"

"Why is it scary if you've done it before?" Tara was still trying to puzzle out what was making Willow so nervous.

"Because, what I'm willing to let you have is different than what I've given before." Willow didn't know how else to explain it.

"Tara, when I kiss you, I give you something intangible as well. I can't just kiss you without feeling profoundly in love with you. That's the difference I guess. There's nothing mechanical or superficial about it. I've invited you into my soul and I can't go back." Willow let the point sit for a moment before she continued.

Tara's eyes seemed to glaze over as she contemplated what Willow had just declared.

Willow considered carefully how to phrase her next point. "And when I say "anything," that includes letting you go if that's what you wanted."

Willow smiled, "Because then we'd have to have these kinds of talks all the time," Willow accentuated the point but letting her tongue slip out between her teeth while she continued smiling. As Tara nodded in agreement, Willow dipped her head a little and looked up at Tara with a devilish gleam in her eye, "…and maybe even while naked."

Tara raised her eyebrows. Did she just say??? Tara burst out laughing. The blush that covered her face was beyond pink.

Tara could only nod. She knew that her dreams tonight would be filled with Willow nakedness and she actually couldn't wait to get to bed. She stood up and helped Willow to her feet. "Do you think we can be held accountable for what we dream about?"

Willow started to giggle as she headed for the door. "I sure hope not." She opened the door and motioned for Tara to proceed ahead of her. "Let's try not to wake up the entire floor on the way back. I'm sure this side is already up."

Tara woke up with a smile on her face. She looked at the clock; it was only four-thirty. There was plenty of time before gym class. She considered her options: She should study Japanese, or read her scriptures, and journal time was probably overdue. Tara sighed. There was always so much to do. Lying in bed all toasty and warm thinking about what Willow had told her the night before, or closing her eyes and daydreaming about Willow seemed more fun.

She and Willow had avoided making any decisions about their situation again, so that conversation was still coming. They had some time yet before her next appointment with the mission president. I'll take 'avoiding difficult conversations' for eight thousand, Alex. Tara smiled and rolled her eyes. She reflected on how Willow had seen her discomfort and then tried to divert them toward something more enjoyable. She loved the way Willow did those kinds of little things. She is so enchanting.

Tara began to replay the events of the night before. Their voices echoed in her mind. "How do you do that? Do what? Make me think so hard about what I really want when I'm trying not to." Tara remembered her next comment, "I was trying to be vague, trying not to be clear…Trying not to let you see." She sighed again. I guess I did some avoiding myself. She remembered leading the two of them to the vacant room to continue their discussion. Tara Maclay uses this medium: buzz…what is kissing Willow? Tara looked at the clock again. Time flies when you're having fun.

A small wave of nausea interrupted her thoughts after a few moments. I have to – what had Willow called it -"Get mission-y." Thinking about The Church seemed to bring up so many issues she didn't want to debate within herself. And, the fact that she needed Willow's distractions from the flood of negative emotions she was feeling only seemed to accentuate the chaos of guilt, fear and shame she was harboring. How did things get so complicated?

She moved her arm to reposition her pillow and then cradled it against her. After a few moments, she was uneasy. She felt out of place on the bunk she had chosen. It was silly, but it was just positioned the wrong way or something. She flipped over and nestled the pillow into a more comfortable position facing the wall. What she really wanted to do was sprawl out, and she wished she had a larger bed.

Tara closed her eyes and tried to imagine her room back at home. From her vantage point where she would lay on her double bed, the dresser and then her closet were at her feet. Her desk and chair and some shelving with pictures were to her left. She could envision her school books neatly stacked as they would have been when she was a student.

Her room was tidy, well kept actually. As a youth, she had longed to throw a wayward sock on the floor, or leave a top out overnight tossed across the chair, but that just wasn't done. She had grown up in a strict environment. There was "A place for everything and everything in its place".

Tara pictured herself preparing for bed. Everything had to be put away and sometimes in a rush, things didn't end up exactly where they should. She always intended on going back to straighten up, but never seemed to make the time. It was a little hint of rebellion to which she clung. A smile crept on her face as she remembered the state of her desk drawer. Willow would probably call that "modern chaos" or some other cute phrase meaning a huge mess.

She let the images and thoughts fade, and she reflected on her family for a moment. She thought about how Donny's room looked, he too had struggled with her father's strict rules. She remembered seeing him roll his eyes more than a few times when her dad started in on one of his long speeches. She always felt a strong bond with her brother over those types of things. Her father's ways were tough, but she really thought he meant well and he seemed earnest in his desire for her perfection. Tara paused at the thought.

She knew an insight was coming and decided it was time to grab for her journal. She flipped through the pages scanning quickly over some of the text before she started a new entry.

November 17, 1984

Things are not always as they appear.

My room always had the semblance of neatness. Dad said so many things about how our home reflected our respect for others (In retrospect, I'm guessing that meant him). Cleanliness is next to godliness and all that. There had to be order.

Good habits and organized living where essential for spiritual excellence. I guess I just was superficial in my excellence then 'cause my desk drawer and closet were always in disarray. I wonder…If I'd paid better attention to my drawers, would it really have made my head less messy now?

I was looking back through my journal. I seem to keep having these realizations, but they don't do a thing to make my mind any clearer. Donny's letter seemed to help, but it felt like that was ages ago. And Willow provides a lot of insight…She's smart that way. I loved her cake example about the frosting not being the actual cake. Maybe I've been frosting for a long time and didn't know it. Oh gosh, what if I'm really just this shallow person? I don't feel shallow. I think I have depth.

It's hard here, there's no real wiggle room to do anything. I just want some time to work some things out and we don't have any. I think I'm supposed to feel like any distractions are bad and everything not "work" related needs to be cut out. And Kitchen Shimai said I needed to be careful who I let set my path. Am I off course? Well I suppose in other people's eyes I am, but when I'm with Willow, things finally feel right. I just don't know what that means. But then after…like now…I'm just so confused.

So what do I do? Keep up a facade that everything is perfect – that I'm not having this huge crisis of soul here. I don't like feeling this way, but when I'm with Willow, that's when things just seem to make sense.

Down the hall, Willow was locked in an inner battle of her own. She felt like she was dressed up in all the wrong clothes, especially given the threat of impending doom. Who wears a tube top and heels to a tidal wave? And these shorts are too – well – short. Tara's outfit seemed much more suitable, but her large rubber flippers weren't helping her at the moment as they both attempted to run up the hill.

Sister Smith suddenly appeared in Willow's dream with a large green 'frog' inflatable swim ring around her middle. "What?!?" She looked indignant, "All the life jackets were gone." She yelled above the roar of the panicked crowd, "And it went with my outfit." It was true; she was wearing green from head to toe. Willow giggled a little when Smith fluffed her hair to accentuate her point.

Sister Kitchen went by them on her roller skates, which actually didn't seem that out of place since she was wearing stylish protective headgear. The strap fit nice and snug under her chin. Kitchen's hair bunched out wildly where the short helmet ended on her head. Clearly, she was well on the path to escape the killer wave. Kitchen had already skated past by the time her hand shot up in a belated wave. Willow felt silly when she realized she'd returned the greeting that Kitchen would never see.

Willow scanned the crowd for other familiar faces. Sister Colson was across the street making progress. She had on a brightly colored loose fitting top, baggy trouser pants and a big red nose. She was barking out orders with an overlarge megaphone, "Come on, we don't have all day people!" She gestured wildly with her Mickey Mouse hands, "I said move!"

After seeing the others, Willow was also not surprised when she soon spotted Sister Conley in a duck suit. Hmm, yellow looks nice on her.

Willow turned her attention back to Tara. She seemed comfortable enough. The skintight wetsuit was a bit of a distraction. And Willow liked distractions. It was a full body suit, dark blue with a very light blue curved stripe that went from Tara's lower leg all the way up her side and ended with a slighted curved point just under her arm pit. Truth be told, facing impending doom didn't seem as bad if she could watch Tara move around in that.

Willow's own "Daisy Duke" shorts were riding up in all the wrong places and she felt like the tube top would fall at any moment. She was exhausted. It seemed like they had been running for hours up the hill. The last time she'd looked back, the huge mass of water was about to crest and head inland. She knew that when the wave did break, the lower parts of the city would be destroyed. Their only hope was to out run the rushing flood.

"I know; me either. Should we try an empty building? Maybe we could ride it out."

"I think so. Should we tell the others?" Willow pointed toward the duck, the frog, the clown and the roller derby queen.

"Oh Tara, are you sure?" Willow felt uncertain. She knew how she felt but pleasing Tara was important too.

Tara's use of profanity startled Willow a little, but she kept searching earnestly for an appropriate shelter for them.

Tara continued, "Plus, in that outfit…" she turned her head to check behind them, "Damn!" Tara realized they didn't have much time left, "We'd better hurry."

Willow saw a couple of girls riding by in a bright orange convertible with surf boards positioned in the back seat. When they caught a glimpse of Willow and Tara, they honked and waved. Willow felt even more conspicuous in her short shorts and tube top when she recognized the tune was "Dixie".

Once she recovered from her embarrassment, she continued searching for the best refuge. Willow eyed a tall building with assessable stairs that looked worthy to stand against the raging waters. "Over there!" She pointed toward the structure. "Come on!"

The dreamscape suddenly changed. Willow sat on a hard floor next to Tara. Both were breathing hard. Willow's feet were sore and she was scared. She turned to Tara looking for comfort. "Tara?" She spoke quietly, "What were you gonna say about my outfit?" Willow looked at her exposed abdomen self- consciously.

"I know; I feel like I have nothing on. I don't know how this happened, this just can't be happening, I would never wear this, this is so not me. I just wish I could cover it up with a sheet or something. And these shoes, they are so impractical for running, and I'll just stop now." Willow interrupted herself mid babble.

"No, not the outfit is nothing, what I was gonna say was nothing." Tara was amused, "Well nothing important anyway."

"Oh, I'm sure it was important." Willow was prodding. The distraction from the coming water was nice.

"No, not really," Tara knew instinctively what Willow needed and she anticipated Willow's response with ease.

Tara took a breath. "Well, I was gonna say something about counting your freckles. But I realized we didn't have that much time."

"Well that's new." Willow was pleased. Tara always seemed to say the right thing. She didn't feel self-conscious anymore for some reason.

Tara continued, "And then I thought, 'so many freckles, so little time' would sound too bleak, like we're not going to get out of this mess. And I think if we just can hold on to something here, we'll be okay."

Both girls heard the terrifying sounds grow louder as the wall of water rushed toward the coastal city. Cars slammed against buildings just blocks away. The people trapped in the wave screamed in fear and pain as they were hurled away. The roar of the ocean was low and deep, and they heard almost an eerie hollow sound as the sea moved quickly up the street between the concrete and steel structures that directed the flow. Some buildings withstood the collision force; others were washed away without a fight. The girls hoped the edifice they selected would be strong.

"Then we'll do it together." Willow scrambled to her feet. "Grab my hand!" She pulled Tara up and they headed over to a large pillar. "We can do this. Just hang my holds and hand on." Willow shook her head, "I mean, hold my hangs and hand on," In frustration she rolled her eyes, "No, geez, I mean hold my hands and hang on. God I hate it when I do that." She looked at Tara in earnest, "You know what I mean." Tara just smiled at her in reply.

The water crashed against their building and the walls shook violently. As she prepared for the chill of the seawater Willow thought she heard Tara yelling something at her over the muted sounds of destruction around her.

"Jim?" Willow was puzzled. They don't name tidal waves do they? I know they name some storms if they are big enough, but just a big wave? I'll have to do some research to see how big these things have to be before they get named. "Is that what you named it?"

When she heard the mumbles from Willow, Kitchen Shimai remarked to Smith, "Did you get that?"

"You are gonna write that one down for her and ask her later, aren't you." Kitchen already knew the answer.

"Oh, most definitely," Smith grabbed Willow's pillow and jerked it a little. "Come on Sister, up you go." She looked bemused by the confusion on Willow's face as she woke slowly from her dream. "Time's a wasting."

Willow stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom mindlessly looking at her reflection. Images from her nightmare were starting to fade away, but something was bothering her about the parts of the dream she still remembered. She felt like there was a message in there somewhere. She definitely wanted some journal time. She wondered why everyone was gathered around her bed when she woke up and what was Smith up to? Her thoughts were interrupted.

While holding her fingers against a small spot on her chin, Willow muttered, "Pimping a popple." She didn't bother to turn her head. She just looked into the mirror in the direction of the voice and confirmed that Smith Shimai had inquired.

"What?" Willow thought Smith's agitated tone resembled one of the characters from a Monty Python sketch.

She turned and said flatly, "I'm popping a pimple." Willow turned back to attack another area under her cheek above her lip. "Too many M&M's," she muttered nearly unintelligibly.

Willow nearly rolled her eyes. Pot calling the kettle…How many times have we had to wait for you, Miss bionic hair woman? Willow smiled and said cheerily, "Almost done."

Willow continued to watch out of the corner of her eye as Smith took hold of her hairspray and started shaping the massive blonde tufts of hair and applying the product. Willow didn't understand why she spent so much time working on the huge hair tower; it was just going to go all flat anyway. Crazy gal. Smith kept working on her hair, applying more and more of the noxious spray. Willow coughed quietly and wheezed a little. She suddenly imagined Sigourney Weaver's (Dana's) hair post-possession in Ghostbusters. The similarity was striking.

A series of scenes from Ghostbusters flashed quickly through her mind. Bill Murray, (Venkman) stood at the door, knocked and the door opened slowly. Mystical wind flowed around the woman accentuating the supernatural changes that had taken place and, of course, to highlight the beautiful peach colored evening dress draped seductively off one shoulder. Dana husked in a throaty moan, "Are you the Key Master?" The door closed when Venkman answered incorrectly. Willow tried not to giggle. A poor imitation of Rick Moranis' voice in her head followed, "Are you the Gatekeeper?" Willow decided to continue her fantasy.

As Willow created more Ghostbusters images with Smith in Sigourney's role, she tried desperately to contain her giggles. One picture after the other played out in her mind's eye: Smith being used by supernatural forces for some evil plot, Smith taken forcefully through a door on the chair and being sucked into another realm, the failed seduction of Venkman, heavy panting, and then magically rising from the bed. Now that would be convenient during sex. Sure would solve many clumsy clothes removal moments. Willow shook her head to clear that visual and continued her "moments from Ghostbusters" mosaic. She realized that until Dana transformed into the big stone dog thing, her hair just got more and more out of control. Okay, the character is not quite right though and the sex stuff was just, ewww.

Willow glanced over at the cloud of mist swirling around Sister Smith. Good thing no one ever lights a match in here, probably would be a fireball the size of, well… She conjured a host of fiery images and settled on one. Gee Sister Smith, do you remember the explosion when they shut down the protection grid – that could be this bathroom and it would be all your fault. She envisioned the EPA man, Walter Peck. Nice name, how appropriate.

She mentally ran through the list of major characters and matched them against Sister Smith's qualities. She was having trouble deciding if Smith Shimai was more like that Peck or the Rick Moranis character. She decided the secretary's voice was closest in nasal tone, but the accent was all wrong. She let her mind drift again. Hmm, Smith with a coat and tie or Smith throws a lame party. Willow grinned inwardly. Smith chased by a mystical dog through the streets of New York. She particularly liked that one. When she had fashioned images of both characters with the big hair, she decided she was really heading off track. That Stay-Puft marshmallow guy, now that was a funny…with his little hat… Willow suddenly felt like sugary nibblets for some reason.

Willow headed off for a speedy shower just to get herself more awake. 'Ray, if someone asks you if you're a god, you say YES!' Willow giggled quietly trying not to appear she was laughing at the other girl. "I'll be just a sec." She could have sworn she heard a forced sigh from Smith. She knew her Smith visualizations were really in poor taste, but it seemed to help with her frustration with the girl. Moreover, Smith as the big Stay-Puft Marshmallow man was an interesting idea.

Willow was about finished with her shower. Once she was away from Smith, her mind drifted to other things. Unfortunately, the candy craving had remained, so naturally, she had thoughts of Tara. Since she had been at the MTC, candy and midnight sweets were becoming a shared event for the two of them. Mmm sugary nipplets, er nibblets. Nibblets! In desperation, she turned the hot tap to reduce the shower temperature to a more spiritually conducive degree. This has to stop! I'm going to hell. Willow sighed in defeat. Tara is NOT just a tasty morsel. And as an afterthought she added, and Smith is not a giant marshmallow…Well she kind of is, but that's beside the point.

Willow quickly dried and dressed. As she did so, she resumed her reflections on her recent nightmare. Willow's thoughts were interrupted again when she heard Smith's voice outside her shower stall. "We better hurry." Smith's comment was obviously intended for Willow alone. Willow mouthed to herself, 'coming mother' and rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long day. She emerged from the stall and nearly choked when she saw Smith standing there with both hands on her hips. She was clad in her big green t-shirt for gym. Willow stifled the urge to retort, 'Got a swim ring for that?'

Tara was just walking down the hall to meet them when Smith and Willow came out from the bathroom area. Willow felt justified, "Great! Perfect timing." She grinned and shot a quick glance over to Smith to gauge her reaction. Smith looked annoyed. Willow jiggled her hair with her fingers. She looked at Tara with a conspiratorial grin, "I just need my shoes, and we can go." She turned to Smith, "You about ready?"

As they reached the room, Willow asked both Smith and Kitchen, "Would you guys mind if we went on ahead?" Tara smiled and bobbed her head shyly.

"Sure, dozo," [go ahead] Kitchen Shimai cheerily replied for both. Willow thought Smith looked like she'd just sucked a lemon.

"Thanks," Willow held out the "s" for a beat. Then she corrected herself, "Arigato." She turned to Tara, "Ikimasho ka?" [Let's go?]

"Hai," Tara replied sweetly. "Ikimasho." They started down the hall. When the door shut behind them, Tara continued, "What's up, erm, nani desu ka?"

Willow fiddled with her fingers and then jammed both hands in her pockets. She took a deep breath before she began. "I had a nightmare; well it was technically a morningmare, because it was right before I woke up this morning. And as I say that, I am thinking that it's appropriate that the word mare is involved for a bad dream, since I have horse fear…there was an unfortunate incident when I was four. I had a bad birthday party pony." Tara nodded through the babble taking mental notes. "…And Smith Shimai and Kitchen Shimai were standing over me when I woke up and I think Smith is writing down my morning dream chatter – which is really bad. And in my dream, there was a wave…not a wave as in hand wave, although that was there too, from Kitchen Shimai who had on a roller derby outfit including skates and a helmet and she was making a quick getaway. It was a really big ocean watery wave, and I think you named it Jim. And I was really scared, and Smith had on frog swim stuff, which I'm also afraid of – frogs, not the floaty thing, and now I suddenly realize is important especially since she wears that green shirt sometimes for gym and I am really rambling. I'm sorry. Did any of that make sense?"

Tara reached over and tapped Willow on the arm to indicate they should stop. She turned and looked directly in Willow's eyes. "Bad dream, frog and horse fear, fear of Smith and big waves – check." Tara accentuated the word 'check' as she'd seen Willow do on several occasions. "Go on."

A slow smile emerged on Willow's face. She was always so impressed with Tara's ability to understand her ramble and get the key points. "There were other outfits, and mine was really bad and I felt uncomfortable. You were there, we were running, and we had to climb all these stairs to try to get away from the wave. We kept looking over our shoulders at it getting bigger and bigger and still it didn't come in. Then right before I woke up, the wave crested and was coming inland towards us, but we'd found a building by then to hide in, and the noise – it was so loud in my head."

Willow blushed, "Well, let's just say skimpy doesn't begin to do it justice. Wearing garments with it would not work." Willow looked down and then made some gestures to indicate the limits of her dream attire.

And then this morning, I was daydreaming and I made Smith be several the characters from Ghostbusters: big hair, whiney voice, and a great big giant smiling marshmallow of death." She sighed in frustration. "What is wrong with me?"

Kitchen and Smith caught up with them and Smith started in straight away, "What are you guys talking about now?"

Smith's tone had a hint of accusation. Tara quickly turned defensively to head off any further comments from her, "Dreams." Tara smiled easily, "I turned Shakespeare into a couch potato, what did you do this morning?"

Kitchen Shimai promptly jumped in, "Me and Bruce R. McConkie went to a BYU football game. He was yelling at the ref, "That was false, false, false!"

She continued, "He threw a chili dog at a San Diego State fan. It must have had a slice of cheese on it, 'cause some of it stuck to a bald guy's head. He turned around and it was President Shepherd."

Willow let a tiny smile linger, before she asked, "Wait, he was bald in your dream?"

Kitchen looked at her in amusement, "Of course he was bald, but we didn't know that at the time, the hotdog bun knocked off his toupee."

"You should have seen the sun reflect off his head. It might as well have been a mirror. From then on, we couldn't see the plays properly from the glare in our eyes and all."

Tara interjected, "Well he could be, or not, but in her dream he was." She got a thoughtful look on her face before she continued. "Do you think dreams mean anything?"

Kitchen answered. "They can. I think it just depends on the type of dream, the thoughts you're having, if you're working through something and there are symbols that make sense to you in them."

"Yeah, me too. Same." Tara nodded and looked at Willow who was also nodding. Tara started the group walking again.

Tara continued for her, "Dreams can have meaning on a personal level. Imagery in the dream reflects what we're dealing with emotionally, spiritually, even intellectually. Some things can be very random though. You can waste a lot of time working to make sense of a little thing that's bothering you if it's out of context with the rest of the images. For instance, I don't think the cheese on some guy's head is the main point in Kitchen Shimai's dream. Having our mission president be bald, that might be an issue, or it might not depending on her. If she is having a craving for a chilidog or something was casually mentioned during the day, those things could just manifest into her dreamscape. If there was just a random bit of cheese on his head…probably means nothing unless she was a mouse in a former life or something." She giggled and quickly got more serious. "However, a little thing could be important too. If that hotdog represented something to her within the context of her dream – like she was eating it at the time, or she was hungry and he threw away something that she wanted – that could be meaningful. Only the dream's creator really knows how (or if) the images mirror their life."

The girls arrived at the gym as Tara finished her explanation. Smith looked thoughtful and then added. "I don't really remember my dreams." She opened the door for the group and headed for the crowd of sisters warming up for their exercises. Willow went straight toward the stationary bicycles so she could consider all of what Kitchen Shimai and Tara had just said. Tara glanced at the others. She waited a moment and then decided she would join Willow.

Willow was concentrating so much that she didn't see Tara approach her. She had already climbed on a bike and was peddling slowly. Tara startled Willow when she broke the silence. "You're not crazy, you're not bad."

After Willow regained her composure, she shook her head in despair, "There has to be some reason why my brain does these things."

"Yes, there is." Willow hung her head. "I see everyone being all happy here, and I can be all smiling on the outside, but my head is working on these horrible images that are so wrong." Willow started peddling faster.

"Yeah, right" Willow rolled her eyes. "I don't think Kitchen Shimai or Conley, or Colson would ever have those sorts of thoughts. They are so perfect."

"Have you asked them?" Even as she asked the question, she began reflecting back on her thoughts from the morning. Things are not always as they appear…Nor are people. Her own issues had frustrated her earlier, and Willow's dream had left her disquieted for some reason. They were both facing a giant wave. Willow was clearly uncomfortable. She remembered Kitchen's admonition: Be careful whom you let set your path.

"No. But…" Willow stopped herself mid thought, "And I don't mean to not include you in the list of those perfect people, cause I think you're wonderful too, I just look at them differently than I look at you. Gosh, that sounds so bad, I'm sorry. It's just, well you're you."

"I'm just…Oh!" Willow quit peddling. "This sucks." She sat in silence for a moment. "Do you ever just want to run away and leave all this for a little bit just to clear your head?"

Tara nodded, "Sure, but don't go by me." Her tone had a bite to it. I'm just icing anyway.

"I really didn't, I'm just so confused with all this, and I'm all unfocus- y." Willow hung her head in shame.

Willow looked up. "No, I mean, yes. I mean, I don't know what I mean." Willow was becoming more distressed. "Do you think that I don't respect you?"

"Sure I do." Willow replied hastily, almost without thinking. "You are the most amazing person."

Tara seemed dissatisfied with the answer. She realized that what Willow dreamed about her might reveal how Willow saw her as well and she thought Willow knew her better than anyone there. "That's not quite what I asked."

Willow recalled the body suit and smiled, "You were dressed appropriately for the occasion."

"Uh huh." Tara considered the outfit for a moment and frowned. Formfitting. Shows off the boobs…and big floppy feet. That's just great!

Willow smiled shyly. "You looked very nice." Willow was desperately trying to help. She looked earnestly at Tara.

"Yeah, right." Tara put her hand up. "Save it." She looked down at her tennis shoes. "I gotta go." Tara turned and headed over join the other Sisters for aerobics.

Gym class couldn't end soon enough for Willow. She wanted a chance to speak to Tara on the way back to the dorms or at least during breakfast. That hadn't worked out. Then they ended up missing each other the rest of the day. She thought Tara might be avoiding her. Willow hoped that after the last class she'd finally have an opportunity to talk to her. She felt apprehensive as she headed down the hall. Her books weighed heavy in her hands and she anxiously shifted them from one to the other several times. She stood at Tara's door for what seemed like several minutes to gain her composure. Finally, she knocked gently.

Willow stood alone in the hall, cradling her books with both hands while she waited for the reply. In a few moments, the door opened slowly.

Willow had expected Tara to answer. Instead, it was Colson Shimai. She was already dressed for bed. She greeted her with a smile and spoke quietly. "She's not here. She said something about taking a quick shower and going straight to bed."

Willow tried not to let her disappointment show. "Oh, okay," she didn't really have much else to say. She took a breath. "Tell her I came by then," she said mutedly. Then she nodded, turned, and walked back to her own dorm room in silence, deflated.

A whirlwind of activity raced through her mind as Willow considered the implications of this development. She knew that a nighttime shower was not Tara's usual routine. She suspected her fears might be correct: Tara was avoiding her.

"No, I think I upset her." Willow said softly. She was still trying to maintain her composure.

"I told her about my dream," Willow answered meekly. She looked over her shoulder for Smith and then closed the door gently. "I had a nightmare and there were outfits, and I think she was offended by what I had her wearing."

"Well, we all had outfits," Willow continued cautiously. "I had on "Daisy Duke" shorts, you were a roller derby queen and Smith Shimai, please don't tell her, but she had on a swim ring…a frog swim ring. She said it went with her outfit." Willow shrugged.

"Colson had Mickey Mouse hands and bright clothes like clown wear and Conley was in a duck suit."

"I see." Kitchen furrowed her brow in thought, "So you had a duck, a frog, you in your Daisy Duke gear, and a famous mouse/clown combo and me the roller derby girl."

"Uh huh." Willow was hopeful that Kitchen Shimai could make some sense of it. "It sounds like a scary version of Disney on Ice, doesn't it." Willow hung her head.

"I don't think so, maybe a Saturday morning cartoon special or something." She smiled and then Kitchen thought for a moment, "And Maclay Shimai was what, a fish?"

"Sort of, she had on a wetsuit and flippers." Willow was stunned at Kitchen's apparent perception.

"Heh. It sounds like we were a motley crew. What were we doing?" Kitchen Shimai seemed interested.

"Okay, so half of us were dressed appropriately for water at least." Kitchen Shimai grinned.

Willow forced a smile. "That's what I told her." Willow added, "And you were making great headway with your skates. And Colson Shimai was directing people with her big hands."

"Sometimes, why?" Willow was grateful Kitchen Shimai was taking time to talk with her. And she was starting to feel a little better.

"Well, natural disaster dreams can mean any number of things." Kitchen explained. "You could be feeling ill-equipped to face something that you perceive is looming that you can't control."

Willow remained silent. She didn't want to give away what she was thinking. Tara and her relationship was a serious issue that had to be resolved. The Church's position on it was clear and their missions were both in jeopardy if they didn't get it under control. Being caught would be a disaster.

"You know, learning Japanese, and serving a mission in a foreign country, those are really big scary things." Willow realized Kitchen Shimai was still talking. "And time is going so quickly here. It's no wonder you're having dreams like that."

Willow considered for a moment before asking the next question. "If you can answer this before Smith Shimai comes back…" She trailed off.

"Do you ever, just to work on things that frustrate you, daydream anything bad about people?"

Kitchen let out a little chuckle, "Oh, you mean like, visualizing Elder Hamm actually getting his finger to loop through the one nostril and around and out the other?"

"Yes. That's it, definitely on the right track with that one." Willow relaxed a little.

Kitchen laughed and replied with a colossal amount of sappy sarcasm, "No. Never!"

After a few minutes of stillness, Willow further commented, "Kitchen Shimai, I don't daydream about you."

"It would be okay if you did." Kitchen said graciously. "We all have things about us that may be annoying to others. The trick is just remembering to value the person for who they are and what they represent."

"So do you think daydreams are like nightmares – representative of things?" Willow asked knowing they were running out of time.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say, maybe." Kitchen Shimai smiled warmly. "I bet it's not the daydream itself that is significant, but that you need them in the first place. Most things like that are just indications that something is unsettling."

"Yeah." Kitchen appreciated Willow's knuckle exaggeration and replied. "I'm gonna barf if he eats it instead of adding it to his collection under the desk."

After a moment, Kitchen added. "Don't spend too much time on the daydream itself, but figure out why you need it and if there is anything you can do to resolve what's causing you to need the outlet in the first place."

Willow considered her wisdom and thanked Kitchen Shimai. She grabbed her journal and headed to her bunk.

Tara returned from her shower and found Conley and Colson both reading in their bunks quietly. She grabbed her own scriptures and journal and lay down on her bed. She fanned the pages of her Book of Mormon in hopes that something would jump out at her. A pink paper interrupted the flow. She left the book open to the pages it had been placed between, and looked at the memo slip. It had just been a few days since her visit with the mission president. She turned the slip over and stared at her sketch.

Sometimes when her feelings eluded her, she could capture her feelings better in her attempts at art. (In addition, it was a nice way to pass the time without disturbing anyone else.) This drawing was no exception. The doodle she'd made of her and Willow was not her best. She'd sketched it hurriedly and under the watchful eyes of her two companions. It did symbolize something significant for her. In many respects, just the fact that it was drawn in such haste had meaning to her. She had wanted to finish it and give it to Willow. Now she wasn't so sure that would be a good idea.

Everything was just going way too fast. She'd only known Willow for ten days and already she was headed down a slippery slope that could destroy her mission, alienate her family and friends, and potentially lead to excommunication. She had another meeting with the mission president in a few days. She was nervous. What am I supposed to say? That because of what he said, we continued our physical relationship. Oh right, I'm sure he'd really like it that I'm blaming him for my actions. Or did I just react to his words with anger, belligerence, and defiance.

She had tried redefining their relationship with practical jokes. That had been a near disaster when saw nearly naked Willow. She'd not anticipated the effect that would have. Moreover, she was still paying for Willow's retribution. She couldn't remember the last time she found an outfit that didn't have wadded toilet paper in a pocket. The salty taste in the toothpaste was going to last a long, long time. The pepper letter was classic though. She wondered for a moment if Willow had any other tricks brewing that she should be worried about.

They had tried to set rules. Willow made the cute picture. That hadn't worked well at all. It just made her want to be closer to Willow. It was like being on a diet and then seeing a plate of chocolate cheesecake or something. The temptation of the forbidden was hard. Willow's lips, her skin, her touch was just too inviting.

Their other activities, studying, singing, and the monopoly project, all those things just lead to more alone time. Getting to know the girl was the most joyous experience. She was quirky and smart and funny, and kind. Tara loved the way her mind worked and she was so eager to learn. That was inspirational. In those settings more than any other, she could see how Willow felt about her. She showed her just how much she loved and respected her as a person.

Tara knew she probably had overreacted about Willow's dream. After her contemplations earlier and inner doubts, she was sensitive to Willow's perceptions of her. She was starting to hide from the others too. She'd felt she mislead Kitchen and Smith Shimai that morning about her dream as well. She hadn't wanted to run the risk of explaining the one she really had, so she picked an innocuous dream she recalled one of her friends telling her about prior to her mission. Even months later, she could still remember her friend's face as she asked the question. I turned Shakespeare into a couch potato. What did you do this morning? She still thought that was funny.

After a few moments, she decided to return to contemplating her earlier topic. Things are not always what they appear.

She looked over at her two companions. Colson appeared to be sleeping on her scriptures. Cute. Conley was awake and looking back at her. She used her head to redirect Conley's gaze to Colson. Conley let out an inaudible laugh. After a moment, she looked more seriously and mouthed, "You okay?"

Conley waved her fingers between them and then pointed to the door. She raised her eyebrows to indicate it was an invitation.

Moments later, they were outside in the hall with the door closed carefully behind them.

Tara was amused. She appreciated Conley Shimai for lightening her mood. She was always delighted when she saw this side of the sister. They started walking toward the lounge area. "Can we just do loops? I don't feel like sitting,"

"Sure," Conley remained hushed as they walked. After they passed the other sister's room, Conley finally spoke. "Sometimes it's good to just be quiet. A walk around this place at night is pretty pleasant I suspect."

"You can just feel it; you know," Conley paused and then continued, "all the peacefulness."

Conley was speaking slowly (for her) and softly, "It's really hard to get used to."

Tara felt as though she lacked all her general social skills tonight. She decided to mix up her response repertoire, "Uh huh."

"They say this is the most spiritual place to be except for the temple," Conley continued.

"True." Tara decided to break her monosyllabic replies. "I used to go for walks around the temple grounds at night back home. It felt like this too – especially around the holidays when all the lights were out."

"Oh, that sounds nice." Conley reflected for a moment, "We should go this week: first session."

"The temple wasn't what I expected." Conley continued after they passed the lounge area again.

"Neither is this place." Conley looked over to gauge Tara's response, "Or the people." Conley assumed that Maclay's current mood might have something to do with Rosenberg Shimai.

As they walked passed Willow's door, Tara sighed and mumbled to herself, "Things aren't always as they appear."

Tara looked over at Conley, "Oh, it's just something I've been thinking about. Things aren't always as they appear."

Conley considered Tara's statement for a moment before she responded. She touched Tara's arm to ensure she was connecting with her. "Do you feel like you're not showing your true self?"

Tara wrapped her arms around herself protectively, "Not exactly." She shivered a little when they passed the empty room Tara and Willow had visited previously.

"I feel like when I put on my badge, that I'm being dishonest somehow. I'm not this perfect person. I don't think wholesome thoughts all the time. I'm not always on track on the inside." Tara took a calming breath. "I struggle everyday."

"Everyone else just seems like they are so together." Tara repositioned her arms.

"And you think you aren't?" Tara thought Conley sure was asking a lot of questions.

Tara was guarded; she didn't know how to respond. She didn't want to reveal too much. She even considered changing the subject. After passing several more doors she finally began, "It's something Wil…Rosenberg Shimai said the other day." Tara wanted to smack herself for her near slip using Willow's first name. "She said we don't have the opportunity to work through our own things here and that everything is about how we're supposed to think and feel things, but that we don't actually learn how to do that. I told her we get that by doing the work itself. She made the most interesting analogy. She said we are cake. We may look like a perfect cake on the outside if we have a good icing job covering up the holes, but the icing is not the cake."

Conley reflected on the idea for a moment. "I think both are important. And so is the process of making the cake."

Both the cake and the icing are made up of a whole bunch of ingredients and then put together through a process, right?"

"If you have bad ingredients or bake the batter at the wrong temperature that can affect your cake." Conley had slowed to a snail's pace. "You might accidentally stick your finger in the cake and leave a hole. In that respect, she's right. That can be covered up." Conley took a breath. "If you miss an ingredient and there isn't enough stability for the icing, you can't even get the icing on. You can't cover up some things." Conley turned to face Tara, "But let's assume that you have made the cake right, but when you put the icing on, the cake was too hot. The icing doesn't set right. That cake might look funny, but it could be the best cake under the icing and people could judge that cake without even giving it a chance."

"I think she said that the icing defines and protects the cake, it's not the actual cake." Tara tried to explain Willow's thinking.

"If you ask for a piece of cake, do you expect to have it served without icing?" Conley inquired.

"Well, no." Tara pursed her lips as she thought through the question. "Usually, you see the cake before you ask for a piece, so you get a piece of what you're looking at, but I don't think Rosenberg was thinking she'd be all cut up when she made the analogy." Tara laughed a little.

"I'm sure she didn't." Conley joined Tara in a chuckle before she continued. "If you're just looking at the cake, the icing can cover incidental blemishes, taste, and the texture of the cake, but it can't add structure that isn't there." They resumed a normal speed walking through the halls. "The important thing to remember is that you can't show off the stability of the cake without also having a good icing job to compliment it."

"So presentation is as important as substance?" Tara rephrased to clarify. She started thinking about how much Willow hated the Sister's class they were going to have to take again tomorrow.

"I think, well I'm not sure what I think really, but I think that Rosenberg was saying wearing a badge doesn't make you a good missionary, just like wearing garments doesn't necessarily mean you are worthy of them." Tara hoped she had accurately reflected what Willow was explaining.

"That's the other part; the stability of the cake is reflected through the icing." Then Conley remarked, "It's up to us to discern if those around us are all icing and no substance, and visa versa."

Tara could almost hear Willow's voice and their laughter in her head during one of their long talks, 'Wolf in sheep's clothing – beware of canines in woolens. Whaaat? Do we look for big eyes, big ears, or big pointy teeth if we see people in knitwear'? I suppose the big long bushy tail would be the dead give away but come on what do we do, say excuse me Miss May B. Sheep, could you turn around for a second, I wanna see if you have a tail. Tara shook off the memory.

"Look for fruit cakes?" Tara hoped Conley would catch her reference. She knew Willow would. She heard a little giggle from Conley.

They were near their door again, "Want to make another loop?" Conley inquired tenderly.

A little while later, Conley Shimai saw Kitchen Shimai on her way toward the bathroom area. "Konban wa." [Good evening.]

"It's a busy night." Conley said offhandedly thinking about her conversation with Maclay Shimai.

"Yup, it usually is around here." Kitchen was in full agreement. She thought about Willow's distress, but she was also imaging a duck suit on Conley. "It can seem so quiet and peaceful, but there's a lot of stuff going on." The girls heard a flush and they both started to giggle. Good timing they both thought. Through the chuckles Kitchen added, "Definitely a lot of stuff." She used her hands to indicate the quotation marks around "stuff."

"You know," Conley appeared thoughtful, "You're different than I thought you'd be…actually not that much. It's your sense of humor that surprises me."

"You too," Kitchen Shimai agreed and added in a whisper, "I mean who would have thought you could do church hymns through your nose." Kitchen snickered, "or that you would."

"It's funny how you just never know what's really going on in people's minds." Kitchen was thinking about Willow's active dream life. She was amazed at how much Willow was able to cover up her anxiety about upsetting Tara all day.

"That's true." Conley was still worried about Maclay Shimai. She had hoped she'd been able to help her, but she seemed defeated and she wondered if the visit to the mission president had anything to do with her current state of mind. She seemed perfectly fine during the day, but when the lights came down, her self-esteem seemed to come down too.

Both sisters made it to the sink and started brushing their teeth. When Conley finished she remarked, "It's the process that's important."

"We do things everyday – like brushing our teeth. The next morning – it's the heartbreak of halitosis all over again." Conley smiled to show off her teeth. "It's a cycle."

"Okay…" Kitchen looked confused. She knew she'd stumbled into the middle of something.

"It could be anything really, combing your hair, washing your face, painting your nails." Conley appeared to be on a roll. "Lot's of things really, dishes, laundry…nothing stays done forever." Conley put away her toothpaste in her toiletry bag. "It's like it happens when you're not looking, like the sock that disappears in the dryer."

"Tell Rosenberg that both the icing and the cake are essential, that the icing compliments the cake and shows off its strength. And tell her, the process is also important. She'll know what I mean." Conley put away her toothbrush. "And tell her that her cake is fine.

"Nah, just too many hours with a faulty Easy Bake Oven." Conley laughed – you can tell her that too. Conley left the restroom and headed back to her room.

When Kitchen returned to their room, she went over to Willow and whispered Conley's message to her word for word including the Easy Bake Oven comment. Willow rewarded Kitchen with a tiny smile.

In the quiet, she prayed her brain would calm down long enough so she could get a little bit of sleep and that no nightmares would plague her dreams.

"Guilt is funny. Not funny ha ha, but funny ironic or funny bone funny, which isn't really funny at all. Funny bone funny is painful, and annoying, and persistent; its sting reverberates well after the initial ache has subsided – an echo of an unfortunately placed whack."

Tara smiled at the analogy. She thought the professor was cute. She seemed too young to be in such a position, but Tara welcomed her enthusiasm and the cheery tone she set in her class. It was a welcome change from some of the other classes she'd had in the past.

"Concepts of right and wrong are cultivated with social constructs. Language and imagery, community law, legends, media, literature and other forms of art, proverbs, fairy tales, mythology and lore, all shape and reinforce these ideas. Socialization of values may not be obvious to the casual observer, but it is systematic and pervasive." Tara wiggled a little in her seat. "Conscience is then refined by interpersonal experiences within groups."

"Individuals belong to many different groups varying in size and purpose. Membership may be inherited, coincidental, forced, or chosen." The teacher turned on an overhead for the class.

Tara looked around the room at the other students. Most sat silently in their seats, nearly hypnotized by the instructor's lesson. A few were taking notes. The girl next to her was preoccupied with something stuck to her desk. She scraped at it with her fingernail, then her pen.

The teacher revealed a diagram with concentric circles some larger than others. Tara copied the diagram on her own pad. "Gender, ethnicity, nationality, or religion are some of the larger communities. Those groups with which we find important shared characteristics (or shared "differences") are how we identify our uniqueness – our identity – who we are – how we fit in the world."

The teacher handed a stack of papers to a student in the corner who took one and passed the rest behind him. "The smallest of groups, family, friends, and certain associates, are those in which we have the closest relationships. The stronger the attachment is, the greater the need to be accepted."

Tara continued to look at the girl compassionately. She was very determined to clear off the item from the desk. She pulled out a small ruler to use against it. She is persistent…and a little quirky.

"To achieve acceptance requires compliance with certain principles – group values – which translate into a code of acceptable behaviors – group rules. Some rules are very formal; many are not. Most are obvious, and some are more obscure. Think about some of the groups you belong to and the rules you are expected to follow because of them." A discussion ensued. The teacher wrote down the groups and rules that the students suggested. After awhile, the teacher put down the chalk and resumed a position leaning against her desk.

Tara faced forward and absent-mindedly duplicated the blackboard notes to her own. She kept a watchful eye on the girl beside her as she carefully applied the ruler's edge against the desk. The item suddenly flicked free and shot into the hair of the blond girl in front of her. Tara struggled not to giggle.

"The group defines the hierarchy of what is ‘good/bad' and ‘right/wrong' by degree of reward for compliance and reprisal for infringements."

Tara glanced over at the girl and smiled gently. She looked embarrassed, but welcomed the gesture. Another student sitting diagonally in her seat glowered slightly at them both.

"Rewards for proper behaviors generally lead to neutral or positive emotional experiences. Retribution may be subtle, a casual roll of the eyes or a sharp word, or more extreme, violent and merciless. Rejection by someone within a favored group elicits guilt and shame."

Tara continued to listen, but watched helplessly as the blond girl felt in her hair and discovered the thing lodged there. She turned and glared accusingly behind her.

"Guilt and shame are related. Breaching group standards produces internal consequences: guilt – about what we have done, and shame – about who we are."

Tara hid behind her hair. She wasn't sure she agreed with the definitions, but while in class, there wasn't time to process what it all meant. She wrote the terms down on her pad.

A student asked a question. There was a discussion going on. Tara couldn't seem to follow it. The teacher went to another board. She drew a diagram with arrows and circled words. Tara felt like she was drowning so she took a cleansing breath.

"Negative emotions are the internal consequence for those who seek approval within a group and fail. Guilt and shame also strengthen each other and make our assumptions about our values feel more correct. Therefore, guilt, shame and conscience are connected; guilt and shame reinforce conscience, and failure to follow conscience leads to additional guilt and shame. Remember, this is about the socialization process, not the psychology resulting from it."

The teacher allowed a moment for the students to let the statement soak in. Then she looked quickly back to her notes and resumed speaking. "Some may argue that guilt is a positive instrument of socialization, that it benefits society by teaching proper behavior. Others would say that guilt and shame are tools to exert social control."

A student raised her hand to ask a question. Tara couldn't make out what she was saying either, as if her words jumbled together. She had received the handout and was reading over it. It looked like an assignment – a paper: "Socialization and Identity."

The teacher continued. "Yes, shame is a powerful weapon in interpersonal settings and relationships. Those who feel unworthy are less likely to stand up for themselves against oppressors – even in the event that personal values may conflict with the larger social rule. Try to keep these things in mind as you're preparing to complete your assignment."

Tara tried to digest what she had heard. She looked toward the window and let the words sink in Social constructs, guilt, shame, and identity. In a blink of an eye, the landscape changed, she was in a different room listening to her psychology professor.

"These are the things we want. Simple things. Comfort, sex, shelter, food. We always want them and we want them all the time." Tara felt disoriented. She didn't remember finishing her last class, yet the assignment paper was in her notebook. She wasn't even sure when it was due. She tried to focus on the professor who was still speaking. "The id doesn't learn, it doesn't grow up. It has the ego telling it what it can't have and it has the superego telling it what it should want."

Tara had a sense that she'd heard the lecture before, but she couldn't place it. She doodled on her pad. Superego = conscience?

Tara wondered for a moment what the Church's position was on Freud and the other theorists about whom she would be learning. As the teacher continued, Tara thought she might ask her bishop the next time she had an interview with him.

The professor droned on, "Whatever social skills you've learned, however much we've evolved, the pleasure principal is at work in all of us. So, how does this conflict with the ego manifest itself in the psyche? What do we do when we can't have what we want?"

An image of Willow's face flashed in Tara's mind. Feel guilty, she answered to herself. Tara glanced up at the clock. Class was nearly over. She looked at her notes. She didn't have anything other than the one comment written down.

"We'll be talking about several theorists over the next few weeks, Jung, Maslow and some others whom you may have heard of. If you didn't already, make sure you hand in your project assignments and we'll see you next week," the teacher concluded the class.

Tara panicked. She hadn't completed the task. She wasn't even sure what her proposal was, so having an outline and annotated bibliography ready was laughable. She was still obsessing about the other paper that she had to complete and this added stress was not helping.

Tara walked to the psych instructor's desk and lingered. After the other students left, she began. "I didn't hand in my assignment," Tara hid behind her hair. She felt like she was doing that a lot lately.

"I'm interested in quite a few things and I'm having trouble focusing on one theme."

"I find that hard to believe." The instructor started shuffling through some papers on her desk.

"Tara, you are a level headed person. You ask intelligent questions in class and you seem to be clear in what direction you are taking your learning."

"Your questions always revolve around how we make decisions, and what makes us do the things we do." Tara watched as the instructor placed her notes for the next class out and closed her folder on the others.

"I suppose from your perspective it would, but I set no limits on the length of these papers." The teacher finally made direct eye contact with Tara. "Each of the theories we're studying are a means of clarifying these ideas."

The teacher smiled. That's why I think your paper will be an interesting read. "There's no reason why you can't select a topic and discuss each of the theories we're studying. You don't have to ascribe to any one ideology." The teacher started to wipe off the boards she'd used in her prior class.

Tara thought back to her other course. "I think it will still be incomplete without the context of sociology as well."

"So discuss that too." Other students started coming in for the next class. The teacher nodded toward them as they made eye contact with her.

Tara contemplated this idea. She rarely had an instructor invite her to explore ideas from outside the specific course. That certainly was the case in the first class.

"Just make sure that the crux of your discussion involves the theories we study in here and if they fall short, site some references and assert your own ideas. You are allowed to have opinions and even disagree with me if you justify your argument."

No, that can't be. Can I do that? Suddenly an image of Willow flashed through her mind. The teacher was still speaking. "Just put down some ideas and a list of sources you already expect to have. You can add more as you progress." Tara felt dismissed when the instructor started speaking to another student.

Tara went back, sat down at her desk and started to put away her belongings. When she opened her book-bag, several items fell out with a clatter. She felt as though she put away her pen three times, but it kept reappearing on the desk. Her notebook wouldn't fit back in the bag. Nothing was going right. Tara was getting more and more frustrated. The next class was already starting and the teacher was beginning the lecture.

I've gotta get out of here. She struggled to regain her composure and get her bag packed up and under control.

"So this is what it is, talking about communication, talking about language, not the same thing. It's about inspiration; not the idea, but the moment before the idea when it's total, when it blossoms in your mind and connects to everything. It's about the thoughts and experiences that we don't have a word for."

Finally, Tara was able to stand up. Unfortunately, her chair leg scraped loudly against the floor. She was mortified. The students all looked at her accusingly. She hunched her shoulders and tried to run from the class but her legs wouldn't carry her fast enough. She clung to her book-bag.

Suddenly, she felt a moment of clarity and stopped trying to walk. She realized she was squeezing a pillow. Tara started to pull away from the dream back to pre-consciousness. She nestled in and tried to let her mind drift away from the panic and insecurity she was feeling.

She considered the message of the last instructor for a moment. There was something important in the lectures and she didn't want to miss anything. It was something about inspiration, the idea before the thought, no, the moment before the idea that we don't have words for. We were talking about guilt and groups, socialization and identity, that was the assignment…and social constructs. Language. Language was a social construct, it's limiting. That paper was about theories, but theories are part of social constructs too. Her head was swimming with random thoughts. The images from her dream were slowly coming back to her. Who was that girl? Was that supposed to be Willow?

Even though she gained some perspective, she was still feeling insecure. Okay, I need to resolve this. Maybe it's… She opened her eyes and glanced at the clock. Great. She frowned against her pillow. There's no time to have a better one now… She had to get up to prepare for the day. Tara turned over with a big thump. Great way to start the day, Tara.

The morning had gone by in a blur for Willow. It was her second Sunday morning in the cafeteria at the MTC. She observed that it was a bit hushed before Sacrament. She and the other two sisters were being deferentially quiet.

She looked down at the remnants of her food. An oblong greasy area on her plate marked where the sausage had been. The eggs were bugging her. They were a pathetic shade of yellow and flavorless – the way buffet eggs sometimes get. She wondered if the cook even had to crack them, or if they'd come in some kind of pre-packaged carton for mass production. Just add water and stir. She poked at them with her fork. She'd barely touched her pancakes. They were all mushy; the syrup had completely soaked through them. She picked up a bite and it fell apart. It landed back on the plate in a silent thud. Willow stared at it – a lifeless, saturated, spongy lump.

Willow realized she had and would continue to have little control over her life while she was on her mission. No wonder Tara was such a welcome distraction for her. She looked for her, but didn't see her anywhere. Even if the other Shimai came in, there was no room for the three girls to sit near them. She was completely surrounded.

They had all settled into a routine: up, class, eat, class, eat, class, eat, class, personal time and then sleep. The classes didn't seem to matter much; it was mostly the same. The only appreciable difference was on Sunday the sessions were less language and more gospel. There was a modest amount of time for personal study in there somewhere. However, it seemed to go by so fast, she hardly had time to learn her vocabulary or new grammar rules for the next day. Monday was a little better. They could plan their own morning activities, but mission rules limited what they could actually do.

She watched some of the elders wolfing down their meals; they always seemed so hungry when they ate. It was sort of disturbing. She could see why so many missionaries gained weight while they were in the MTC. Eating was one of the few things they had control over.

There were so many temptations – pancakes, eggs, donuts sausage, and bacon for breakfast and even pie, cake, and pudding for desserts. Lunch and dinner had wonderful starchy foods, and meat with gravies, and the best chicken and then more pie, cake and other yummy things for dessert again. She'd been there a little more than a week and all the food was starting to look the same.

At half past eight, Willow and the others had headed to sacrament meeting. Now, it was nearly nine. Willow tapped her pencil erratically against the page in her notebook. While she reminisced on her morning musing, her legs bounced uncontrollably. She glanced at the missionaries around her. Her focus shifted to the scene in the large hall. She felt awe for a moment: It's like an ocean. It's a sea of blue blazers.

She decorated the letters while she was considering her thoughts. Willow was desperate for a distraction. She started doodling. She drew some fish and added other marine life. She looked up again.

Willow observed the backs of the Elder's necks in the area around their collars. Hmmm. New do's… Short hair is a requirement for male missionaries. On some, tan skin peaked out from under their shirts and brighter white areas extended up to their hairlines; the disparity in color accentuated their recently shortened hair. On others, she wondered just how long their hair had been before they came into the MTC. She couldn't discern even a slight tan. Some had severely sunburned necks that clearly had never seen the light of day before they were called into service. It wasn't as bad as military boot camp; they didn't all go off together for ritualistic hair shaving sessions upon entry or anything. As far as she could tell though, their hairlines were all within mission standards.

They're all the same. It was as though a quiet and persistent cadence started in her mind. Over and over, and over again, she heard her inner voice chanting: All the same.

She shook her head to try to clear the inner mantra then looked back down at her notebook. She continued with her marine life doodle. She sketched some hair on her fish. Willow thought the starfish was particularly cute. She drew another, and gave it a Mohawk. There are no Mohawks in the MTC. She smiled. Next, she made a little seahorse. She added a saddle for fun. She considered putting a corral around the horse, then thought better of it. After that, she made a small school of fish. She added a podium and a teacher fish standing in front of the class. Willow giggled quietly. She added some little glasses. Mr. Limpet. Willow giggled inside. She drew another group of fish. After staring at it a moment, she added big gaping mouths and lots of teeth. Heh, piranhas. She tried to put fluffy hair on one of them. It didn't work out… Her 'Smith' piranha wasn't nearly as cute as the hairy starfish.

Willow moved her toes in her shoes. They hurt. Comfortable shoes would be good. Willow shifted her legs, crossed her ankles, and tried to put her feet beneath the chair. She felt the annoying friction of her nylons as they rubbed together. She sighed. I don't see how we really walk without creating electro-static charges…Maybe we could market it. She knew it wouldn't be long before her toes started tingling from the loss of circulation.

Turning back to her notebook, she sketched a small figure swimming along in the water and a larger shark coming after him. She hummed the Jaws music in her head. She added a beach to her art and some people heading toward the water.

Willow felt guilty for being irreverent, but the diversion was good for the moment.

She took a little breath and stretched out her legs. They were getting sore already and it hadn't even been that long.

Willow spotted Elder Hamm down in the row in front of her and some of the other Elders from her group. She smirked as she added a tiny tie and little nametag on her shark-bait figure just for kicks. Hamm chum.

She looked toward the open door for the umpteenth time. She saw more and more blazers and all the male missionaries seemed to have some type of red "power" tie. Just how many shades of General Authority red are there?

Her mind raced through several movie images until she settled on one she liked. She started to amend the theme of her drawing. She began with a few sketches of stiff-looking people. She made one armless and another eating what appeared to be the missing limb. She shaded them with her pencil so they appeared grey. She put some nametags on a few of those too.

"Feeling a little stressed?" Willow was mortified. Kitchen Shimai had observed her artwork.

"A bit," she said quickly. "Sister's class," Willow said as if that was explanation enough. She looked down at her notebook. She felt self-conscious and closed it so no one else would see what she'd drawn.

Of all the classes in the MTC, 'Reflecting the proper image of a sister missionary' was Willow's least favorite. It had been a week since the last class. She was trying to keep a positive attitude about it, but she felt betrayed in a sense, as though The Church wanted her to be someone that she was not.

Willow just wanted to throw off her shoes and sit comfortably on the floor for a minute as she used to do as a kid – no nylons, no pumps, and no worries about being perfectly presented.

She considered the implication. And they want us to be like that, with perfectly manicured, Aqua-netted, Blair Warner "Facts of Life" hair, and freckle hiding Covergirl made-up plasticky faces, and, and, foot-binding, calf-stretching, uncomfortable shoes, and itchy, hot, expensively run-prone control top panty hose, with suitably colored, ensembled, non-breathable blouses, and these… Willow looked down at her outfit. She nearly hissed out the last thought…skirts. Willow frowned. No one is "natural" looking anymore. We can't be Barbie Dolls; we're not built that way. And why does everyone have to be so "Footloose" High School senior prom-perfect? Willow flashed back for a moment on her Ghostbusters fantasy with Sister Smith and her Sigourney Weaver hair. See! She nearly said aloud as she confirmed her own internal banter. It's a conspiracy and I'm in the middle of it.

Willow let out a deep breath. Just get me through the day. Sacrament was about to begin and the Sister's class was just an hour away. She hung her head. At least I appear reverent. She smiled at the thought. She didn't look up when someone sat beside her. She knew who instinctively who it was.

She softly opened the conversation, "I hear Conley Shimai had "Easy Bake Oven" issues as a child."

"I got a message from Kitchen Shimai last night." Willow wasn't offended in the slightest.

"Oh?" She furrowed her brow and took a deep breath after she realized to what Willow was referring, "Oh." She felt bad for discussing their private conversation with Conley Shimai. She ducked her head.

"No, it's okay. I thought it was nice of her to send a message." Willow looked over, "I was worried."

"Did you maybe wanna talk later?" Willow whispered. She knew Tara was using her Japanese to set a tone.

Tara looked over and saw Willow's face. She smiled back sweetly. "Daijobu, ato de hanashimasho." [Okay, later let's talk.]

"Good-o desu." Willow tried to keep it light. "I still need my Japenglish though."

"Heh, okay." Tara couldn't help but feel better after talking to Willow. "Demo, oyasumi ni juji." [But, 'good night' at 10 o'clock.]

Willow saw they were preparing to start the meeting. "Yeah, p-day is tomorrow, no oyasumi, no wakey wakey. [No good night no "wakey wakey."] Soshite watakushitachi wa… hmmm, como se dise "zombie" in Nihongo?" [(Jaspanglish) And we…how do you say zombie in Japanese?]

Tara chuckled. "Hai, wakarimasu. Watakushitachi wa shinden ni ikimasu." [Yes, I understand. We are going to the temple.] Tara wondered for a moment, "Zombie…wakarimasen." [Don't know 'zombie'.]

The piano music signaled the start of the service. Both girls instantly grabbed for their songbooks and joined in the hymn. It was going to be another long day for Willow.

Willow inhaled deeply before she stepped through the door to sister's class. Positive thinking is key. This is important to my development as a missionary. Willow's stomach churned. The greasy sausage at breakfast had not been a good idea. Well, at least if I get a pimple, they might have good suggestions on how to make it go away. Freckles and pimples are never a good look. Willow sighed. Okay that wasn't so positive.

Kitchen Shimai and Smith Shimai selected a row for them and sat down first. Willow followed them in. There was room for others to her left. Willow took her seat and sat mutely.

Positive thinking about sister's class is going to be very difficult today. Oh, who am I kidding, it's difficult every day.

A sister and her companion sat down next to her. She put her books down with a solid thump. Willow glanced over and saw her nametag was in English. She didn't bother reading her name. The girl smiled cheerfully as she glanced at Willow's badge.

Willow considered her options. She decided she was glum and wanted to stay that way for the moment. This cheerful girl should have to work for it if she wanted Willow to display happy for her. "Hai." She nodded her head sharply and left it down for a moment. That was Willow's rendition of a "seated bow."

"I bet you just can't wait to get there." The sister was overly chipper. Willow decided at that moment that her enthusiasm was not going to be contagious.

Willow smiled politely. This girl had no idea she was completely petrified about going. Nor could she grasp the amount of pressure they were under going to a foreign country. Some missionaries had to get special shots and things to go to certain third-world countries.

Willow hated the idea of naming a country "third world" – as if they were on a different planet or something, or that some countries were better than others were in some abstract way – as defined by the labeling country. She knew some countries were more advantaged than others were. What gives one country the right to look down at another just because they had a larger gross national product? That's gross. Willow smiled. She wondered if other people amused themselves in their heads just to appear happy.

The sister prattled on, "There are some really beautiful things there: castles, Japanese gardens, shrines and temples. I hear they have neat celebrations during their holidays too. Oh, do you think you'll get to go to the temple while you're there?"

People act like it is some grand vacation. "The temple is in Tokyo, it's doubtful." Willow remained pleasant yet aloof.

"Oh really, there's only one?" The sister was relentless. "What part of Japan are you going to?"

Willow wondered if she had any clue about the geography of the island, decided she didn't and replied, "Kobe, it's in the middle, the temple is nearer to the top." Willow hoped she wouldn't ask how far away it was.

"Is that where that beef comes from, Kobe beef?" The girl just kept grinning at her.

The girl took a short breath before she started in again, "I heard that they give beer to the cows and massage them every day so they taste better."

"The beer probably helps them deal better with their immanent slaughter." Willow blinked and forced another smile and watched the sister furrow her brow. Willow chuckled inside. Sarcasm is good!

"Oh, are you vegetarian?" Her raised eyebrows and innocent face indicated this sister might win the unspoken anti-happy contest Willow decided she'd engaged in.

Willow prayed; give me strength. Her stomach turned over again. She tried to come up with a snappy retort. Nope, just Mormon. Only when I don't eat meat. No, more abstract. Soylent Green is people! That would shut her up. She decided she didn't have time to come up with the perfect reply she hoped taciturn would work, "The cows are."

The sister was not deterred. Willow wondered if she had a mission of her own. "Heh, you're funny. Where are you from?"

Willow used her most sincere face. "Second floor, how about you?" After she said it, she wondered if that had been a mistake. This girl might come looking for her.

"Oh, land of earthquakes." The girl shuttered a little. "Don't those scare you?"

"Shaken, not stirred." Willow wondered if she'd get it. Willow could tell the last comment was finally slowing down the bubbly girl. Maybe her short responses would finally make the girl stop trying so hard to get her mood up

Willow's mind raced. She remembered her conversation with Tara about the "others" from the third floor. If she were one of the girls…the odds would be incalculable – well, it could be calculated, just not in my head without more information. I might need a pencil too. Could this annoyingly cheerful girl be one of the gay girls on the third floor who had been seen? How can I find out? Do I want to find out? If I knew, then what? Maybe it's better not to know. This is the critical response – I can shut her down now or keep her talking – then I could find out. Oh, I hate this! Why does it have to matter so much? She's just a perky sister trying to get me to smile before sister's class.

"I guess it is relative." The girl was deliberate in her response. "I mean, you can feel crowded when you're alone with your companion or you can feel alone in a crowd."

"I guess the trick is to figure out that you're in the situation you're in for a reason and just appreciate it for what it is."

Willow was thoughtful. She was not expecting that answer. She asked pointedly, "You're the kind of person who thinks there's a reason for everything, aren't you?"

"I guess. I don't over-evaluate things like why this particular rock instead of that one made me trip, but there seems to be reasons for things."

"So I guess there's some divine reason you decided to sit here?" Willow wasn't sure if she believed that or not.

"Well maybe not divine, but a reason." The girl was circumspect and continued slowly, "We both had to come to this class and there was a chair with room for two next to you. That's a reason."

"That's not a very profound reason – that's just coincidence." Willow realized she wasn't playing her little anti-glee game anymore. This girl actually seemed interesting.

"Well you left space next to you, there may have been a reason you did that. Maybe you were hoping someone else would sit there, maybe you didn't think through that someone might sit by you – either way, because you did, someone had the opportunity to sit by you. You didn't object to me sitting there, so you may not have felt strongly enough that someone different should sit there or you were afraid to tell me not to sit down."

"Some might say that one of us may have a divine message for the other – or we for each other. Who knows for sure? The point is we have an opportunity to enrich each other's lives if we choose to – even if it's just finding our solidarity for hating sister's class." The girl took the opportunity to grin widely at Willow.

Willow conceded the victory and smiled genuinely. "Or you could have heard me talking to one of my companions about how much I hate this class and you looked for me because we share the same opinion about it."

The girl's grin widened even more and her eyes sparkled with delight, "Well it could be that."

It didn't really matter anymore if this was the gay girl or not. She was just a girl who shared a moment. Sister's class might not be so bad today after all.

In reply, her new friend grabbed for her notebook. Willow glanced at her nametag again. This time she memorized it.

Tara stood in the doorway of her room and waited for Willow. Once she saw her open her door, she came down the hall to meet her. Willow did the same. They hadn't had much time at all to see each other, and Tara was in Japanese mode all day.

"Yay!" Willow nearly bounced when she saw the couch was clear. She scurried over to her place and plopped down with dramatic flair.

Willow's display amused Tara. She smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "So…" she dragged the word out, "Zombies?" She wondered how Willow had come up with that earlier. It had seemed a little…abstract…for a run of the mill conversation – even for Willow.

Willow hung her head a little, took a breath and she folded her hands as if she were contrite, She stood up slowly, "Hello, my name is Willow and I…" Willow raised her fingers for the air quote marks, "dramatic pause," she smiled, "…am a monsterholic."

"Hellooooo Willow," Tara understood immediately that Willow was admitting her problem for a monsters anonymous meeting.

"I've been watching B-rated monster movies since I was ten. This has been difficult for me. I've been creature-feature free for ten days. I don't know how I'm going to make it. I need help." Willow hung her head in mock shame. "I've started drawing pictures just to keep me going." Willow knew that her performance was not good and that she wasn't even funny, but Tara seemed to need the distraction.

Tara laughed out-loud for the first time the entire day. Seeing the huge grin that erupted on Willow's face warmed her heart. She took a calming breath. "You know they say that monsters are a metaphor for many social and psychological problems we face." Tara continued, "Those who study them usually are highly intelligent."

Wonder what zombies and piranha fish mean. Willow tilted her head a little. She tried to determine the angle Tara was taking with the conversation. She studied her for a moment and finally decided that perhaps she'd met a closet monster geek, but she wasn't quite ready to trust her instincts. Maybe Tara was implying something else. She was still worried about Tara's reaction to her nightmare and she had said that dreams had meaning.

"I think they can," Tara replied. "But anything can be a metaphor or used for an analogy. You talked about cake."

"Okay, that's true." Willow considered her options as quickly as she could. "Metaphors are a good topic since we seem to use them quite a bit." Willow didn't want to babble and she might start if she didn't let Tara take the lead.

Willow wasn't sure if Tara needed more comic relief or to talk; she decided on the later, "Tara, are you okay?"

Tara held her breath. She didn't know what to say. She was troubled and confused and Willow was so cute and understanding, but…the mission.

Willow remained silent and waited for her to continue. She felt like several minutes passed before Tara finally spoke. "I think I feel guilty."

Willow understood. She didn't know what she could say or do to make Tara feel better. She stifled the urge to reach out to her. She lowered her head, "Okay."

Tara continued, "I feel like I over-reacted to your dream the other day, I'm sorry."

Willow was encouraged for a moment, "Oh, that's okay, don't even worry about that." If that was all it was…

Tara interrupted Willow's thought. "I'm having nightmares." Tara was uncertain how much she should say.

"Heh, probably," Tara smiled. She appreciated how much effort Willow was putting in to making her feel comfortable. "The one this morning was unsettling."

"Like my tidal wave." Willow remembered how embarrassed she'd been, and how confused she was by the other images in her nightmare.

"Oh, I hate that one." Willow raised her head a little and looked at Tara again.

"And there was a girl in the class who was having trouble with something on her desk, and she accidentally hit the girl in front of her with it."

"Heh," Tara smiled again. "I made a really loud noise in front of a whole class in the middle of a lecture. And it wasn't even my class. I couldn't get out of my chair before it started so I interrupted everyone with that scraping sound the legs make. You know the one?"

"Yup." Willow waited a moment before she continued, "What did you think was the most important part of the dream?"

"Well, aside from being unprepared and embarrassed and stuff, I think there was some key information in the lectures themselves."

"Do you remember what they were about?" Willow felt like she was starting to get the hang of this dream interpretation.

"Sort of," Tara tried to remember. "It's been all day now. The first class was sociology and we were talking about guilt and socialization and stuff." Tara grabbed for her notebook and tried to redraw the circle diagram the teacher had written on the board. "I kinda remember her talking about identity and groups that we belong to. Some of it was kind of Charlie Brown teacher-y. I didn't catch it all."

"Okay…" Willow nodded as she watched Tara drawing, "Rules as in legal laws and stuff, or more like rules like – social rules, customs, mores, and stuff."

"The second." Tara was impressed that Willow was following along so well, "Then I went to psychology, that's the class I didn't have my assignment for. That teacher was talking about Freud."

Tara let out an air laugh. "Me too. The last class was some sort of communications class, I think. That's the class I interrupted."

"Oh there was flaring." Tara was amused. She thought of the girl glaring at her in class, "Possible nostril flaring from one rude girl."

Willow tried to put all the information together. "So you had three lectures – were they sort of themed?

Willow continued, "And you had one missed assignment, one new assignment and an embarrassment?"

"I don't think so." Tara tried to see the other faces in the classrooms. She decided not to tell Willow that she thought the gum girl was her. "It's sort of a blur now though." Tara thought about it more, "You know that girl with the stuff on her desk, I felt sorry for her, and it seemed like the lecture kinda complimented what was happening in the class."

"That sounds interesting." Willow wondered if she had helped Tara even a little bit. "Well, I'm sure if there is meaning there for you, you will find it." Willow continued under her breath, "At least you're not being chased by flesh eating creatures."

"Are you dreaming about zombies?" Tara wasn't sure what that could possibly mean.

"Oh, I'm beyond dreaming, I'm drawing them when I'm awake." Willow looked embarrassed, "I'm sick."

"You're not sick." Tara's attention now focused on Willow, she felt better. "I think we're both having some issues and we need to deal with them."

"It's getting late." Tara glanced at the clock. "I've got to get up early for the temple tomorrow."

Willow wondered if there were more to it than that. "Maybe tonight or tomorrow you can get some more clarity on it."

Willow knew better than to ask her to stay. Just a few days ago, they were kissing and having deep conversations about their relationship. Now they were both having nightmares. She also knew Tara was going to have to face the Mission President soon. That had to be stressing her out. "Okay," She replied meekly. She knew she had to let her go.

Willow reached out her hand to touch her fingers just as Tara turned to leave. She wanted to say so much. Instead, she stayed silent and watched her walk away.

Tara's hand flopped onto the top of the alarm clock. She felt groggy and definitely not ready to start the day. Not bothering to open her eyes, she mumbled quietly into the soft pillowcase, "Snooze is good." She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The pillow nuzzled around the side of her face. Without lifting her lips, she purred, "Snooze is our friend."

The three of them had decided on the six o'clock session at the temple. They needed to be there at least fifteen minutes before that to be dressed on time and they had figured another ten minutes or so to walk across the street from the MTC. Prep time was always the variable. They hadn't decided if they were going to try for a second session or not, that depended on how long it took them to get through. And they all had expressed interest in not rushing to get there on time.

Tara knew herself well enough to set her alarm a little early in case she hit the snooze button too many times. Without the hustle and bustle outside and Willow and the others coming to pick her up for gym, she knew it would be hard to wake up. She was right.

After several minutes passed, her alarm went off again. Her eyelids seemed stuck together. It is so much easier to fall back asleep when your eyes won't open. As Tara calculated which parts of her morning routine she could omit and still make it out on time, she drifted back to sleep.

Another alarm sounded. After a short while, Colson Shimai got up and turned on her desk lamp. The movement in the room encouraged Tara to try to get up. After a moment, she was able to pry her eyes open a bit. She checked the clock. It was about half past four. Even with Colson's light on, it was still fairly dark in the room. Tara could see Conley was still in bed and Colson was getting ready to go out to the hall. It didn't take a genius to figure out where she was headed.

Sister Conley's alarm went off next. After she turned off the annoying noise, she yawned and stretched her arms out. Tara glanced over just in time to see a leg poke out from under the covers and a foot land gently on the floor. And there it stayed. As Tara was wondering if she could even move her legs, she fell asleep again.

Sister Colson returned to the room. She saw that the other two were not moving; and she guessed they would not be moving any time soon. She went to her desk and sat down. She started doing something there. When Tara's third alarm sounded, Colson heard a grunt and looked over toward the sound. She watched in amusement as Tara put her hand on the top of the clock and left it there after pushing the button. She wondered which of the two would make the better photo – the girl half out of bed or the one poised for multiple snoozes.

Colson Shimai was tired too. It was early, even for them. She had hopped out of bed to ensure she wouldn't fall back asleep herself. She thought that perhaps she too would enjoy a few more minutes to sleep in. She cleared her throat to ensure she could speak up properly, "Six-Thirty session?" She waited a few seconds for a response. Nothing. She proposed a second compromise to the non-responsive sisters, "Seven o'clock session?" Still nothing. "Okay, fine, seven-thirty, but if we do that, we should grab breakfast first so we're not really saving time there." There was no movement from either bed.

Colson could see how this was going. She continued speaking to the two of them convinced that they were hearing every word, "You know, you told me to be sure you got up, I had no idea I actually needed an air horn for you two." She walked over to her suitcase. "It's a good thing I brought it with me."

Colson Shimai made a big production out of getting into the large bag. She made a few well-placed grunts and thumps. She pretended to be talking to herself, but she did it loud enough for the others to hear. "I can't believe I fell for that big speech: make the plan, execute the plan, no excuses. We'll get up. We don't want to rush…need plenty of time…blah blah blah." She unzipped the suitcase with flare. "I'm drawing the line if we won't have time for laundry." As she rummaged in the bag, she continued, "I'm not going a week with stinky clothes." She grabbed an item and picked it up. "Although…I don't think that the sisters on the floor will appreciate the noise." She continued to shuffle items around in the bag, "Maybe something a little quieter…"

Colson made her way closer to Conley's bed. "Okay, final offer, nine o'clock, one session," there was a click and flash as she took a picture.

Conley Shimai jumped to attention. She sounded almost panicked, "No!" Even with the one foot already on the floor, she was still tangled in her sheets. She nearly fell over getting out of the bed. Click. Colson Shimai started to giggle and covered her mouth. She looked over toward Tara. She still wasn't moving.

Conley regained her composure. "You're right. We had a plan." Conley started getting out a change of clothes and her bathroom supplies. "Good luck with that one," she nodded her head toward Tara.

"I might need a hand with her," Colson replied quietly. She handed Conley the large empty cup Tara had used once to do a prank on Willow. Conley looked at it, and discarded the items she'd collected. She hoped that the cup was only for an idle threat.

Conley walked across the room and turned on the overhead light. She opened the door, "She's really out."

As Conley exited the room and headed down the hall, she heard Colson Shimai reply, "oh goodie – another photo op."

"No," Tara grumbled, "I'm up." She let out a yawn and tried to move. "Well not exactly 'moving' up."

She still hadn't budged, "Did you get a picture of her falling out of the bed?" Tara mumbled.

"Uh huh, it was classic." Tara heard a click as Colson took another photo, "…As was that."

It took all of Tara's strength to stick out her tongue for a raspberry. Her lips wouldn't even work to perform the gesture. The sound resembled a deflating bicycle tire.

Colson quickly snapped another candid shot for her 'getting up early for temple on p-day' collection.

Tara was finally able to convince her limbs to move. She felt her hair. Nice. "You are evil."

"Yup," Colson smiled. "But you said I had to get you up, so it was kind of a requirement."

"Hmm," Colson paused for dramatic effect, "Let's see…um…no." She shook her head and did a little grin.

Colson appeared to be considering the option, "Well, she's called me evil twice. I have a reputation to live up to now."

"You don't look up to me." Colson grinned with mock glee. Out of bed now, or your choice: one more 'morning' picture, or the water?" Colson was having way too much fun with her assignment. Tara wasn't certain she was kidding.

Tara looked helplessly at Conley, "Whose idea was it again to have her in charge of wake-up?"

Tara moved her legs. "Ugh." They felt like lead. She landed on the floor kneeling next to her bed.

Colson observed her position. "Okay, fine, but I'm checking on you after my shower to make sure you didn't fall asleep there, Maclay Shimai." Conley moved away and put the water cup down on Colson's desk. Colson continued, "Technically I think up implies upright."

Tara looked back at Colson. She sneered with her lip and growled nicely at her. Her eyes reflected her appreciation. However, she knew she better not fall asleep.

Colson placed her camera down next to the water cup and made sure Tara saw she'd left both handy. She grabbed her shower stuff and headed down the hall leaving Tara and Conley alone again.

After a few minutes, Tara felt a tap on her shoulder. She lifted her head off the bed where it had fallen, and looked up sleepily. Conley stood next to her. She had her bag and towel in hand. She opened the door, "Don't let Colson Shimai catch you at that." She looked at the camera and water sitting on Colson's desk. "She'll wet you down like…well you know…something you wet."

Tara's mind conjured all sorts of images: girls in T-shirts, a couple of dogs, lips. Or a slip n slide. Without the water you just run, jump, squeak and stick. Tara almost laughed at the image. She finally gave up trying to find an appropriate response. Since Conley was gone already, it really didn't matter. She had a point. Tara stood up and looked at the clock. Like it or not, Colson Shimai had done her job.

Willow woke up early. The others weren't up yet. She had lain there quite awhile already. Her brain was too busy to keep sleeping. She wondered what Tara and the other sisters had decided to do. She wished they would have been able to coordinate their day together. Getting three people to agree on four hours worth of activities was hard enough. It didn't seem likely they would ever get to spend a p-day together.

She reviewed the events of her upcoming day. She was thankful they had decided against gym in favor of early laundry. She figured she could do a couple of letters while the clothes were in the washer and dryer. Then they would finally go to the mall. Willow didn't want to forget anything she would need so she had already made her shopping list. She wanted to practice her Japanese and get some journal time too. She didn't really want to carry anything on the bus to the mall though, so that would be unproductive. It didn't seem like there was enough time for everything.

Willow realized it was good to have meaningless projects to divert attention from a busy schedule. The Monopoly game was a decent enough distraction. She wondered if she could work on her board and accessories after they got back from the shops. She could leave some of the spaces un-named for a while. She did like doing that with Tara though. She had yet to figure out what would work for hotels and houses – preferably something edible but not crummy. Then the actual game pieces were still an issue. Plus, she was still working on 'Operation Wet Red Revenge'. The sting of the cold water Tara had dumped on her was still a clear memory. Until that went away, there was payback due and she had a cunning plan. She had a little research to do for that as well.

She let her mind drift to thoughts of Tara. After their talk yesterday, she realized Tara was probably struggling with their 'relationship'. She had seemed distant the night before. Willow knew she had not done her part respecting their rules. Bending mission rules here and there was just making it harder on them both to do that. It seemed like all the lessons and testimonials Sunday had been about staying on the plan. Most church members would personalize it – say the message was just for them. Perhaps it was. Willow wasn't sure she believed that or not, but she wasn't ready to dispute it if a potential member asked her the question.

Something about it was nagging at her. When Tara was talking about her dream, she felt like she almost got it. That was bothering her too. Willow just felt unsettled, like there were pieces to a puzzle that all fit together if she could only see a little more clearly. What she did know was that she wanted to talk to Tara about it. The question was when.

The more she worried about it, the more she realized she had to see Tara. However, that would require a trip out of the dorm room. With her renewed commitment to the mission rules, she couldn't justify a trip down the hall. She knew she shouldn't get out of bed. She also knew she didn't want to wake the others by turning on the light. Being on the far side of the room and in the top bunk did have certain disadvantages. The desk lamp was just not bright enough. She decided a flashlight would be a good idea. It actually might come in handy if there were ever a power outage anywhere. For now though, all of the activities she could or should do required light, so she had to get up.

She crawled out of bed and grabbed the stuff she needed for a shower. She walked slowly over to the door and opened it quietly. In the dim of the nighttime hall lighting, she saw something on the floor. It looked like a note. She bent down and picked it up. It was too dark to read it, so she put it in her pocket to look at later. She turned and closed the door softly. She turned again to proceed down the hall to the bathroom. Instinctively she glanced toward Tara's room.

Tara just couldn't help herself. As they were leaving for the temple, she looked down the hall towards Willow's door. She was surprised to catch Willow looking back at her. Willow was also amazed at the coincidence. She stifled the urge to run after them. They both considered the implications for a moment.

Willow thought how do we keep doing that?
Tara wondered why do we keep doing that?

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Latter Days/Lonely Nights

by Willownut

Copyright © 2007

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