Work Text:
All was right in Willow’s world.
There was a special kind of peace about being with Tara in her dorm room, lying in her bed without a worry in her mind, nothing else truly existing other than Tara.
I mean, the end of her finals sure helped on the peace factor, of course.
“So, you excited for your first Christmas as a Scooby gang member?” Willow asked, smiling.
Tara shrugged. “I guess. A little nervous, though.”
Willow giggled. “It’s just Christmas, it’s nothing you’ve never seen. We’ll just eat a lot of food and give each other presents and wear ugly sweaters. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”
“Is that so?” Tara raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you have some very strong opinions against Christmas? Do you love it now?”
“I don’t love, love it but. It’s the celebration as a whole that counts, you know? Being with friends and stuff.” She chuckled. “Also the Snoopy Christmas special, of course.”
“Right,” Tara nodded, seeming confused by the last part.
Willow frowned. “You know, the Snoopy Christmas special? You’ve watched it before, right?”
“Uh. Um. I don’t actually… know. What Snoopy is.”
Willow sat bolt upright, shocked. “Wait, what? ”
Tara shrugged. “It’s just, you know. I didn’t have a TV growing up.”
“What, really?”
“Yeah.” Tara giggled. “My dad thought it would melt our brains or something. But he had one in his room so, go figure.”
“Actually makes sense, when you think about it.” Willow said, immediately worrying she had overstepped her boundaries with the joke. She relaxed when Tara laughed.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“I feel like that’s the first thing you tell me about your childhood,” Willow commented. “Until now I only knew you had an older brother, and, I don’t know, a cousin and your dad is alive. And you told me none of those!”
“He’s not older than me, actually.”
Willow’s eyes shot in her direction. “Wait, what?” she exclaimed. “You’re telling me that guy was younger than 20?”
“No… We’re twins, actually. He is 20.”
Willow frowned. “But. But he said he was your big brother!”
“Well yeah.” Tara shrugged. “If you count those 3 and a half minutes, I guess he is.”
Willow narrowed her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re messing with me.”
“Am not!” Tara giggled.
“Is too!” Willow rolled on her tummy, resting her elbows in the mattress. “You always do that. Say that kind of thing because you know I’m gullible.”
“Your words, not mine,” Tara teased.
“Well, I say you’re full of it,” Willow declared.
“I promise I’m not,” Tara sighed contently. “Look, do you want me to pull my birth certificate to prove it?”
Willow frowned. “That’s a thing birth certificates say?”
“Yeah? You didn’t know?”
“I didn’t remember.” Willow shook her head. “It’s fine, I believe you, although with a hint of disbelief.”
Tara smiled. “Well, thank you for believing me,” she said, jokingly.
“Are there any other fun Tara facts that I’m not gonna believe when I hear them?” Willow asked, half ironically, half genuinely curious, hoping to turn this into an opportunity to finally get to know the woman she loved so much.
Tara seemed to think for a moment, before a big goofy grin spread across her face.
“What.”
“I used to own pet chickens.”
For a moment, all Willow did was stare at her for a couple moments, before she burst out giggling.
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. I was, I don’t know, nine or something.”
Willow let out a full belly laugh. “I don’t know why that’s so funny, but it is. ” She kept giggling through her sentence. “I guess it’s because I’m just trying to think how would tiny little 9-year-old you name them.”
Tara raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think I named them?”
“Because I know you,” Willow stated simply.
“They were 15 chickens.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Willow started giggling again. “Only makes it better.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine,” she said. “They did have names. And technically, they weren’t mine, they were my father’s. I just took care of them. You happy now?”
“Not yet.” Willow grinned. “What were their names?”
“...Really.”
“Hey, you’re the one who mentioned it.”
“Fine.” Tara huffed in mock annoyance. “Let’s see… There was Nugget—”
“You mean, Nugget as in, chicken nugget?” Willow raised her eyebrows in disbelief.
“Yep,” Tara smiled, proceeding with the chicken naming. “Then there was McFly, Goldy…”
“McFly as in Marty McFly or…?”
Tara frowned in confusion. “Who?”
“Nevermind,” Willow huffed. “Remind me to have a much needed movie marathon with you any of these days.”
“Deal,” Tara agreed. “Where was I?” Willow shrugged in response. “Ah yes. Then there was Phoebe, Tiny, Juliet, Mac…” She paused, trying to remember the rest. “Gertrudes, Isabella, Dot— that’s short for Dorothy.”
“Of course.”
She did a quick recount of each chicken on her fingers, repeating each name under her breath. “Okay, then… Mrs. Beak, Mrs. Feathers—”
“Okay, now you’ve got to be joking.”
Tara ignored the interruption, but a grin made its way to her face. “Mrs. Chicken, Sweet Cheeks, and at last, Darth Peeper.”
“Darth Peeper?!”
“My brother named her,” Tara explained, sighing.
“You didn’t really have a chicken literally named Mrs. Chicken, did you.”
Tara scrunched up her face, uncomfortable. “She was the oldest one… I wasn’t all that creative then. Don’t be rude about my chicken naming.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Willow apologized, legitimately.
They fell in a comfortable silence for a few seconds until Willow started giggling increasingly louder.
“What?” asked Tara, feigning annoyance, but letting out a breathy laugh as well. “What is it?”
“I’m just—” Willow chortled. “It’s funny, you know. That you thought if I knew you better, I would lose interest… but really, the more I know about you, the sillier that sounds.”
Tara blushed, seeming genuinely embarrassed. “Yeah, I guess I was silly.”
“Wait, no, I don’t mean it like that,” Willow backtracked hastily. “I just mean that.” she sighed. “I’m glad you’re opening up to me now. I’m glad to know you trust me.”
Tara smiled warmly at that.
“I love you,” Willow continued. “And I wanna get to know you. So, um, yeah. That’s what I meant.”
Tara stared at her for a few seconds, before closing the distance between them and lovingly kissing Willow on the lips. She pulled back for a moment and said: “If it’s up to me, you’ll have plenty of time to do that,” before resuming the kiss.
Yet again, all was right in the world.
