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peroxidepirateTitle: Who's the Guy?
Rating: PG
Fandom: Buffy
Disclaimer: These characters and their universe are not owned by me.
Characters: Tara/Willow
Summary: Set early S5, and in flashbacks, this is a short piece about identity, gender, and family from Tara's POV.
It's International Day of Femslash, and the last thing I posted was some het fluff?? This cannot be!
But I didn't have time to write anything new (stupid Real Life again!), so I'm dusting off one of the very first Buffy fics I ever wrote. Enjoy!
The first time their neighbor, Beth, knocks on the door to invite Tara and Willow to a party with "Like, a million hot guys," they manage to politely decline.
The second time, it's a warm September day and Tara has to actually climb off Willow and pull her shirt back on before she can answer the door. As she says hello to Beth, she realizes that she and Willow have – unintentionally – switched tops… which works for Willow, because Tara’s white t-shirt is a little big on her, and looks ok with her green skirt. But Tara is now wearing Willow’s green-and-blue tank top, which is too small, and also clashes with her purple plaid skirt.
And that's when Beth issues her invitation, again emphasizing the hotness of the guys involved. Tara and Willow look at each other, and they can't help it: they laugh so hard that Tara begins to cry and Willow's face turns red, and eventually they catch their breath enough to explain the joke. There follows a spirited, lengthy discussion -- not because
Beth disapproves of their lifestyle, but because she herself is so fascinated with the male gender, she finds it inconceivable that other women don't feel the same.
At long last, when Tara thinks the conversation is beginning to wind down, Beth poses one final query: "So, which one of you is, like, the guy?"
Tara is five years old. She's playing house with her cousin, Jenny.
"You be the boy, and I'll be the girl," Jenny says, deadly serious.
"I'll be the boy, and you be the girl," Tara echoes. Jenny is seven and a half; Tara would never dream of disagreeing.
Being the boy is supposed to be better, because it means you're supposed to be in charge. You go to work, which is also supposed to be good. But going to work when you're playing house means *not* playing until dinner is ready and it's time to come home. And the girl gets to wear the prettiest clothes, things the boy isn't ever allowed to wear. All of this Tara and Jen have learned from their parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. One other rule, which Jen has learned from overhearing her big sister talk to her friends: the boy always wants to touch the girl, and the girl never, ever lets him.
It's very, very important that Tara follows all these rules. She doesn't quite understand why some people are boys and some are girls, but she knows that if she gets it wrong -- if she forgets for a minute, when she's not playing house and not pretending -- if she really forgets that she's a girl, something awful with happen. She memorizes the rules carefully.
When they are not playing house, when they really are both girls, Tara can hold Jenny's hand.
Tara is ten years old. She's learned about the difference between boys and girls, at least in terms of physical equipment, though she doesn't yet understand what those differing parts are for -- except that they're both used for peeing, which seems kind of silly. Like, why are there two ways for people to pee, when there's only one way to walk, or smile, or clap your hands?
So Tara knows she'll always *be* a girl, whether or not she dresses like one and whether or not she follows all the rules. She wears overalls and sneakers and climbs trees with her brothers and the boy cousins, because she can.
The women -- Tara's Mama and grandmother and all the aunts, and even Jen who's almost 13 and has an actual *chest* and everything -- frown and shake their heads over Tara. The men just shrug: "She'll grow up soon enough. She can be a tomboy now." Her father sometimes adds, "We'll break her of it when the time comes." He finds this funny, for some reason, but Tara's Mama never does.
Tara doesn't pay any attention to all that. She climbs as many trees as she can, before "the time comes," and maybe the boy cousins even forget she is a girl.
Sometimes her Mama makes her come inside with the other girls to learn about cooking and housekeeping and magic. Tara will never admit this to any of the boys, but she likes this best of all.
Tara is fifteen. Her Mama is dead, and sometimes Tara wishes she was, too. She knows the real difference between men and women: the difference in power, the difference in how the family treats them, and what those different kinds of parts are really for. She knows that women, at least in this family, grow into demons; she's not one yet, but she's already been found guilty.
Tara still wears overalls when she can. When she's around men, or even the boys at school, she tries to be like one of them: to walk like them, move like them, talk like them (when she says anything at all, which isn't often). She thinks of herself as a chameleon, camouflaged, blending into what's around so the predators can't see her. It works at school, and once in a while it even works at home.
She knows, though, that her disguise is only skin-deep. She's all female inside; she wouldn't become like her father and the rest of the men even if that could save her. She's just pretending, but she pretends all the time. There's nowhere she feels safe enough to be a girl.
The pretending, the ability to be a chameleon, gives her courage. After her chores are done, she stays up late and studies by flashlight every hour she can. She researches scholarships. She works little magics to keep her father unaware. Bit by bit, Tara begins to make plans.
Tara's cousin Jen is planning her wedding.
Tara is nearly twenty, and she's been in Sunnydale for 18 months. If she thought about it before she got here, she assumed she'd go right on pretending -- overalls and sneakers -- but she hasn't. She doesn't need camouflage now.
She feels safe with Willow, and comfortable with Buffy, Anya, and Dawn. If she's not exactly at ease with Xander and Riley, at least they don't pay too much attention to her, and she actually likes Mr. Giles. So Tara relaxes, and enjoys being able to walk and smile and dress like a girl. Like a woman, inside and out.
"So which one of you is, like, the guy?"
Tara squeezes Willow's hand. "Neither of us is anything like a guy. And that's the best part."
Beth rolls her eyes. "I give up. I'll never understand." Then she shrugs. "More boys for me."
Beth closes the door on her way out, and Tara turns back to Willow with a smile.
"That's the best part," Willow agrees. Then she grins. "But every part is the best part."
Rating: PG
Fandom: Buffy
Disclaimer: These characters and their universe are not owned by me.
Characters: Tara/Willow
Summary: Set early S5, and in flashbacks, this is a short piece about identity, gender, and family from Tara's POV.
It's International Day of Femslash, and the last thing I posted was some het fluff?? This cannot be!
But I didn't have time to write anything new (stupid Real Life again!), so I'm dusting off one of the very first Buffy fics I ever wrote. Enjoy!
The first time their neighbor, Beth, knocks on the door to invite Tara and Willow to a party with "Like, a million hot guys," they manage to politely decline.
The second time, it's a warm September day and Tara has to actually climb off Willow and pull her shirt back on before she can answer the door. As she says hello to Beth, she realizes that she and Willow have – unintentionally – switched tops… which works for Willow, because Tara’s white t-shirt is a little big on her, and looks ok with her green skirt. But Tara is now wearing Willow’s green-and-blue tank top, which is too small, and also clashes with her purple plaid skirt.
And that's when Beth issues her invitation, again emphasizing the hotness of the guys involved. Tara and Willow look at each other, and they can't help it: they laugh so hard that Tara begins to cry and Willow's face turns red, and eventually they catch their breath enough to explain the joke. There follows a spirited, lengthy discussion -- not because
Beth disapproves of their lifestyle, but because she herself is so fascinated with the male gender, she finds it inconceivable that other women don't feel the same.
At long last, when Tara thinks the conversation is beginning to wind down, Beth poses one final query: "So, which one of you is, like, the guy?"
Tara is five years old. She's playing house with her cousin, Jenny.
"You be the boy, and I'll be the girl," Jenny says, deadly serious.
"I'll be the boy, and you be the girl," Tara echoes. Jenny is seven and a half; Tara would never dream of disagreeing.
Being the boy is supposed to be better, because it means you're supposed to be in charge. You go to work, which is also supposed to be good. But going to work when you're playing house means *not* playing until dinner is ready and it's time to come home. And the girl gets to wear the prettiest clothes, things the boy isn't ever allowed to wear. All of this Tara and Jen have learned from their parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. One other rule, which Jen has learned from overhearing her big sister talk to her friends: the boy always wants to touch the girl, and the girl never, ever lets him.
It's very, very important that Tara follows all these rules. She doesn't quite understand why some people are boys and some are girls, but she knows that if she gets it wrong -- if she forgets for a minute, when she's not playing house and not pretending -- if she really forgets that she's a girl, something awful with happen. She memorizes the rules carefully.
When they are not playing house, when they really are both girls, Tara can hold Jenny's hand.
Tara is ten years old. She's learned about the difference between boys and girls, at least in terms of physical equipment, though she doesn't yet understand what those differing parts are for -- except that they're both used for peeing, which seems kind of silly. Like, why are there two ways for people to pee, when there's only one way to walk, or smile, or clap your hands?
So Tara knows she'll always *be* a girl, whether or not she dresses like one and whether or not she follows all the rules. She wears overalls and sneakers and climbs trees with her brothers and the boy cousins, because she can.
The women -- Tara's Mama and grandmother and all the aunts, and even Jen who's almost 13 and has an actual *chest* and everything -- frown and shake their heads over Tara. The men just shrug: "She'll grow up soon enough. She can be a tomboy now." Her father sometimes adds, "We'll break her of it when the time comes." He finds this funny, for some reason, but Tara's Mama never does.
Tara doesn't pay any attention to all that. She climbs as many trees as she can, before "the time comes," and maybe the boy cousins even forget she is a girl.
Sometimes her Mama makes her come inside with the other girls to learn about cooking and housekeeping and magic. Tara will never admit this to any of the boys, but she likes this best of all.
Tara is fifteen. Her Mama is dead, and sometimes Tara wishes she was, too. She knows the real difference between men and women: the difference in power, the difference in how the family treats them, and what those different kinds of parts are really for. She knows that women, at least in this family, grow into demons; she's not one yet, but she's already been found guilty.
Tara still wears overalls when she can. When she's around men, or even the boys at school, she tries to be like one of them: to walk like them, move like them, talk like them (when she says anything at all, which isn't often). She thinks of herself as a chameleon, camouflaged, blending into what's around so the predators can't see her. It works at school, and once in a while it even works at home.
She knows, though, that her disguise is only skin-deep. She's all female inside; she wouldn't become like her father and the rest of the men even if that could save her. She's just pretending, but she pretends all the time. There's nowhere she feels safe enough to be a girl.
The pretending, the ability to be a chameleon, gives her courage. After her chores are done, she stays up late and studies by flashlight every hour she can. She researches scholarships. She works little magics to keep her father unaware. Bit by bit, Tara begins to make plans.
Tara's cousin Jen is planning her wedding.
Tara is nearly twenty, and she's been in Sunnydale for 18 months. If she thought about it before she got here, she assumed she'd go right on pretending -- overalls and sneakers -- but she hasn't. She doesn't need camouflage now.
She feels safe with Willow, and comfortable with Buffy, Anya, and Dawn. If she's not exactly at ease with Xander and Riley, at least they don't pay too much attention to her, and she actually likes Mr. Giles. So Tara relaxes, and enjoys being able to walk and smile and dress like a girl. Like a woman, inside and out.
"So which one of you is, like, the guy?"
Tara squeezes Willow's hand. "Neither of us is anything like a guy. And that's the best part."
Beth rolls her eyes. "I give up. I'll never understand." Then she shrugs. "More boys for me."
Beth closes the door on her way out, and Tara turns back to Willow with a smile.
"That's the best part," Willow agrees. Then she grins. "But every part is the best part."
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Date: 2009-07-23 05:47 pm (UTC)Glad you think the shirt switcheroo added something, too! I wanted to bring that back in at the end, cuz you know Willow thinks Tara looks totally hot in that too-small shirt. But it kinda broke the mood of the piece, so I left it out.