It had been a long time since Buffy and Tara had had a real conversation. Before her death, it seemed like her and Buffy were getting closer. Buffy had confessed to Tara she was sleeping with Spike, a fact which all of her closest friends had no idea about then. They were in the beginning stages of being really close. And then…she died. Tara shook off the thought of death and the old life she would never get back as she walked up the steps to the coffee shop they’d agreed to meet at. Tara wanted to have a real conversation, and she doubted the comings and goings of the slayers at Buffy’s house was the ideal place to do that.
The shop was fairly small, a cosy place to have private conversations. It was exactly the sort of place Tara liked—and the coffee add on didn’t hurt. She took a seat in one of the back tables, placing her bag on the chair opposite her to keep people from taking Buffy’s seat. AT A TABLE. BACK CORNER she texted. Tara ordered a plain coffee with sugar from the waiter, glad she chose an unusual place where you didn’t have to go to the counter to get your coffee. For a while she sat, listening to the soft music playing on the speakers.
Tara knew the moment Buffy entered. One of the perks of being a witch was she always knew when someone she was close to was around. She could feel their essence, though in a much purer way than Willow had felt Warren’s when she was looking for him. She looked up, smiling and waving her arms so that Buffy would notice her. The shop wasn’t well lit; it was meant to be a place of relaxation and small conversation. “Buffy, hey.” she smiled as the slayer herself approached.
Tara, of course. Why hadn’t Buffy thought of it sooner? She already had Spike on her side to help her out with Dawn, but he wasn’t the only person that could help. Dawn also held a lot of weight in the things that Tara said to her, and Tara wasn’t involved with the Faith situation the way that Willow was. Sure Willow, Giles, and Xander cared about Dawn, but as far as Buffy could tell Dawn herself was a little burnt out on them. Pissed, even. Buffy couldn’t blame her for feeling that way, she didn’t have a reason to move on the way that Buffy did. Tara was the perfect person to add to the team of bringing Dawn out of the post resurrection funk that Buffy remembered quite clearly. Of course funk was a major understatement, but at least in Buffy’s head it sufficed. She knew what she meant, that’s what really mattered.
That’s why Buffy’d gotten a hold of Tara in the first place, to help with Dawn. But once they’d started making their plans Buffy realized she wanted to talk to her just as much for herself as for Dawn. She remembered the way that Tara had listened so open mindedly when Buffy was going through her depression, when she was using Spike as some sort of instrument of self-hate. Tara didn’t judge her then, even in her darkest hour. And Buffy never really had a chance to mourn the loss of a friend in Tara’s death. Nope, she’d had to run along to try and stop the veiny Willow that was ready destroy the world. She couldn’t help her excitement at seeing Tara again, rekindling their friendship. She needed someone who had an objective and non-judgmental point of view, maybe not in that many words, but that’s what she really needed. As she left for the coffee shop Tara’d suggested (Tara thought Buffy’s place was way more of a mad-house than the lonely fortress it’d become; she didn’t deny it because she wished it wasn’t so empty herself) she really hoped that they could sort of pick up where they left off with their friendship, that Tara could be that person for her.
Buffy got out of her car and took her phone from the back pocket of her jeans before it had a chance to really start buzzing, it was a text message from Tara. She kept her eyes on the message as she entered the shop, looking up and scanning the back of the place once the door shut behind her. She felt the breeze of the displaced outside air ruffle her hair ever so slightly. It was dark enough that she had to squint to see the other blonde waving from afar, but after a moment’s searching she did see her. She walked with purpose over to the table where she was sitting. The energy the place seemed to give off was warm and inviting, Tara’d picked a good one.
“Hi,” she said with a small smile to return the one she was greeted with. She looked to the chair across from Tara where her bag was sitting and moved in that direction. "Long time no see,“ she said with a chuckle as she picked up the bag and handed it to Tara, sitting down in the chair in a smooth motion. She had so much to say to Tara, so much catching up to do, that it was hard to choose which words to say first. Tara open face and inviting smile made her want to spill her metaphorical guts, but she held back. They both knew that they were there for serious conversation, but a little small talk never first never hurt anyone.
This Is A Test 