Author: Spellbound
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The Buffy the Vampire Slayer series and its characters are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.

Wrapped up in Tara's arms, Willow awoke early, the sun had just risen and outside the birds were greeting it cheerfully. Trying not to wake Tara, she slipped slowly from her arms and found a blanket to cover her angelic faced lover, placing a small kiss on her forehead as she did so.

Willow stretched and picked up Tara's pink shirt, it was too big for Tara, even with her incredible bust and so it hung loosely on Willow. The smell of Tara's perfume still faint on the shirt, Willow smiled and went in search of the bathroom. After a quick wash, she emerged back into the open room, Tara was still asleep on the giant fuzzy rug so Willow headed into her bedroom. Reaching a large pine chest of drawers, she opened the top one quietly, "Didn’t plan on a sleepover!" she said apologetically as she pulled out a pair of boxer shorts. "Not gonna ask, but they’ll do." She said, stifling a giggle as she slipped the elasticised briefs on. "Breakfast!" she agreed with her stomach that was growling profusely.

Looking around the comfortable kitchen, Willow decided on something filling, she had only had a small salad for her dinner the night before and their activity last night had made her ravenous. She moved expertly around the kitchen, everything located in a cupboard near to where it would be needed. She rummaged around in the fridge and decided on pancakes. In the living area, Tara roused from her peaceful slumber, her arms instinctively reaching out for Willow. "Not again." She mumbled sleepily when she found she was alone.

She sat up rubbing her eyes and was greeted with the sight of Willow, dressed in her pink shirt and the boxers she wore when it was too hot to wear anything, serving up something in the kitchen.

"You’re up." Willow said softly as she carried a tray into Tara. Placing it down on the small coffee table she kissed Tara gently, "Breakfast?" she asked, gesturing towards the tray. As she pulled the table towards her Tara beamed, a stack of pancakes big enough to feed an army with strawberries around the sides, fresh orange juice, coffee and toast awaited her. "You didn’t have to do this." Tara said, suddenly choked up, no one had ever made her breakfast in bed, except her mum and that had only been when she was ill. "I did," Willow said, her own brow furrowing as she saw tears in Tara's eyes. "I’m starving!!" Tara burst out laughing and soon Willow joined her. "C’mon, eat up." She said once their giggles had subsided. Both women tucked heartily into the food and cleared every plate.

With breakfast done, Tara got up and stretched. "I should get showered." She told Willow as she kissed her.

"I should really get going." Willow said, she didn’t want to leave but she too needed to shower and she thought it was pretty pointless showering at Tara's only to put on dirty clothes. "I still have hotels and the school to get back online." She added sadly. Tara nodded, ever fibre of her being was begging with her to make the red head stay but she knew that Willow wouldn’t say she had to go if she didn’t. Wrapping her in a huge hug, Tara kissed her softly, nibbling gently on her lower lip before kissing her with a passion she had never felt with anyone else. "I’ll see you later?" she asked as Willow retrieved her jeans and slipped them on. "I’ll come by the hotel, what time do you finish?" Tara shook her head, "I got a day off for good behaviour!" she replied with a wicked grin. Willow grinned back, "So, I’ll just call you when I’m done." She said as she headed towards the door, Tara's ill fitting shirt flowing out behind her. As she slid the huge metal door back she turned, "That’d be easier if I had your number!" she said bashfully.

Tara picked up a pen and prowled over to the waiting red head, writing the number quickly on her arm before kissing her once again. "See you later." She said as Willow disappeared down the corridor.

Tara showered quickly, stepping into the tiled bathroom, she brushed her teeth and regarded her reflection. Large bite marks adorned her neck and breast and she frowned slightly, rubbing at her chest quizzically. "When???" she asked her reflection before shrugging. Crossing into her bedroom she dressed in oversized, paint coated dungarees over an old t-shirt and slipped out into the corridor. Down in the basement of the building she found her lock-up and opened the caged door. After a quick search, she pulled out a large easel, canvas and a huge case containing her brushes and paints. She dragged her equipment to the freight elevator and loaded it in, the ancient lift complaining loudly as it carried her and her cargo back up to her apartment.

Finally set up in the middle of the living area, Tara crossed to the stereo and thumbed through the cds. Finally settling on Sarah McLachlan, she cranked up the volume and stood with her back to the speakers, letting the music wash over her and fill her soul.

She crossed to telephone and switched on the answering machine before returning to the canvas. Picking up a brush, she opted for a colour and started painting, the image forming faster than anything she ever created. The soft curves of a lower leg appeared within half an hour, within 2 hours the entire lower half of a female was clearly visible.

Behind her the phone rang, lost in her work Tara failed to hear its shrill call and the machine jumped in. "Hey this is Tara, I’m either not here or painting. Leave a message." Before her the slim and perfectly sculpted body had gained a well defined stomach.

"T, its Vince, pick up babe, I know you’re home!" it was clear from his tone that he hadn’t long awoken. "Tara!!" he yelled into the answering machine. "Shit T. Call me back, I wanna know all the dirty details!" he finished with a laugh and hung up the phone.

Tara continued painting, a silky smooth torso and firm yet petite breasts appeared, a creamy white hand came to rest over the stomach of the subject. Four hours after starting her newest project, the emerald eyes of her lover sparkled back at her from the canvas warming her heart and conjuring a familiar ache between her legs. The long red hair flowed gently onto a rapidly growing velvet chaise lounge, its deep green setting the hair of the woman ablaze.

Inspired by Willow, the strange couch developed texture and depth, a drape hanging from somewhere above Willow's feet flowed majestically to the ground and pooled in the foreground of the picture.

After six very brief hours, Tara stepped back, taking in the entire image for he first time. Falling back on the couch she breathed deeply. "Wow!" she told the picture stunned by what she herself had just created. Most of her work was abstract; her life drawing had never been fabulous even when she had a subject in front of her. The sparkling green eyes of her lover leapt out of the picture and demanded your attention. "You are beautiful!" she whispered.