Continue to Jaws of Hell Chapter Seven

Jaws of Hell

Author: SavageWaters19
Rating: R and up
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of BtVS, they all belong to Joss Whedon, and the Jaws theme is Peter Benchley's. The Jaws setting is basically an island off California, and I took the chief of police idea and the marine biologist - those are all Jaws. Other than that, the story's mind and such. Made up characters are mine as well.
Author's Note: Warning: Character Death!!!

Tara just didn't get it. She really didn't.

"This is freakin' impossible," she said as she slammed her head onto the book she was reading. Willow popped her head in the room. Seeing the blonde's head thrown down, she knocked on the door quietly, acquiring the blonde's attention.

"Looks like you could use mocha, so I thought ‘Hey! Sugary goodness - never fails!' and so, well, I always need one. Anyway, here," she said, placing one of the two drinks in her hands on the desk Tara was sitting at.

Tara smiled weakly at her. The blonde took a sip of the warm liquid and melted. She rubbed her eyes wearily.

"Something wrong?" probed Willow. She sat across from the blonde and looked at her with worried eyes.

"Willow, the only shark alive that could be responsible for this is the Great White, but something's not adding up! The bite size suggests the shark is thirty-five feet long. That's over five feet longer than any great white recorded in the past fifty years. Can there really be a great white in existence that is that huge? I mean, the teeth would have to be over five inches long. That's just not right!" she yelled, banging her hand on the desk. She pulled back, startled by her own actions. Her head lowered and her hair, which she had let down over an hour ago, covered her face.

"I'm s-sorry, I sh-shouldn't have-" she began, but Willow cut her off.

"Don't. I know how it feels to be frustrated. Believe me, I know. It's alright to let your emotions out, and I don't mind being there when you do," she soothed. Tara looked up and gave her a half-smile.

"If you say so," she said, smiling now, her stutter gone with her embarrassment. She suddenly fell silent, concentrating on something. "Would you mind if I brought an old college professor of mine out here? I need his opinion on this. He won't stay over night. But I just, whenever I'm in a bind, he seems to know the answer. Or at least, he helps me find the answer," she asked, skimming her books one more time.

Willow eyed her, amazed at the beauty in front of her. She cleared her throat from the dryness. "Um, sure, that would be fine."

Willow involuntarily glanced at her watch and noticed it was just after midnight. Tara saw the look and faked a yawn.

"Are you ready to go? I mean, well, if you are finished with all your work and well, all," she uttered. Willow looked at Tara with piercing eyes, but the intensity wasn't discomforting. It was the exact opposite. Tara felt like Willow could gaze into her soul when she delved into her eyes; the feeling was security, not discomfort.

"I know you're not tired. I can tell. You're like me, you want to complete the task at the time instead of letting it sit. I can wait. I didn't get chocolate for nothing," she said, never breaking her eye contact with Tara. She finally gave Tara a small smile, but not a nervous smile. Willow gave Tara the sexiest ‘don't look out for me, I'm a big girl' smile that Tara had ever seen.

Despite her attempt to test the red head, she really did want to stop her work for the evening. She left early yesterday morning and she knew tomorrow would be tough. The beaches were open tomorrow. And that meant trouble. Tara felt it.

"Look Chief Rosenberg, we may be alike, but my immature side wants sleep. And unfortunately for my workaholic side, the immature side is winning," Tara informed, leaning over the desk, closer to Willow.

Willow leaned in across the desk as well, bridging the gap between them. With only mere centimeters between the two women's lips, Willow hotly breathed, "It's Willow, remember?" Seeing the involuntary shiver go through Tara, Willow stood up and walked to the door. "Meet you outside in five minutes," she affirmed.

It took the five minutes for Tara to regain her composer before walking out to the truck. She found Willow already sitting in the car, smiling at the blonde as she walked. The red head leaned across the seat of the car to open the door for Tara.

"Glad you could join me," she commented.

"Yeah, I bet you are," bantered Tara playfully.

Willow grinned and pulled out of the station's parking lot. She asked Tara if she was hungry. Hearing an eager yes, Willow drove to the only dinner that stayed open all night, Railroad Spikes. The two walked into the dinner and found an empty booth, which wasn't hard considering the place was deserted.

"Hey Red, you sitting all the way over there because you wanna make me work harder?" yelled a bleached blonde man. Willow chuckled at the man.

"Will, you don't work hard at all. This is my way of keeping you in line. I am the chief of police after all," called back.

As the blonde man walked over, he pointed at Willow, "Oy, Don't call me Will...Will! It's Spike, alright? I hate my real name and you bloody well know it," Spike told her, fully bringing out his British accent. The red head had to look down in order to stifle her giggle.

Although Spike and she knew each other well, he lived on the other side of the island and he rarely went to the beach. Something about skin trouble. But the criminal activity on the island was zilch to nothing. So, Willow hardly ever came out this way. Only when it was incredibly late and Willow was too lazy to fix anything at home. Like the present moment, no one was ever in the joint at the hours Willow stopped by, which gave Willow and Spike the opportunity to get to know each other. Add in the fact that he was gay, and you had a rainbow lovin' pair!

"Alright, luv, what'll it be?" he asked, squatting down in front of the table. He gave Tara a nice smile and winked, but unlike Willow's wink, it was friendly, not sexy.

Tara looked over her menu. "I'll just have a ham and turkey sub with fries and sweet tea to drink," she told the man. He mentioned that it was a good choice, causing Willow to roll her eyes.

"Working the customer, nice," she joked, "I'll have the hotdog and fries please. Umm how bout coke to drink too."

"Coming right up ladies," he said, standing up right and moving around to the back of the counter to prepare their orders.

"He seems nice," Tara commented. Willow nodded vigorously.

"He's a sweetheart really. Me and him clicked right away; we have a lot in common," replied Willow, thanking Spike as he handed the ladies their drinks.

"Such as?" Tara probed, hoping to learn more information on the redhead.

"Well, we love to read, we even have the same favorite, To Kill a Mockingbird. Music wise, we both enjoy the rock beat, so..." she trailed. Should I tell her? She has been flirting with least, I think she has. Might as well, I can't do anything about it anyway. "...and we're both gay, so we can connect through that," she finally sputtered out. Normally, she didn't give a damn whether people knew or not. Most people on the island didn't know she existed until they had a problem to solve. After Willow handled it, they went on with their lives, choosing to block her from memory until she was needed again. People were so busy with their lives on the island; no one even cared if she was. That is, if they even knew about it.

But with Tara, Willow felt a stronger connection. She at least wanted a friendship outta this fiasco. The red head could only hope Tara wasn't a bigot.

Tara looked up at Spike as he set the food on the table. With the silent atmosphere, he could hear their conversation, and decided he should join in and tease his redheaded friend. "She's a wildcat, this one. Never seen a gayer one," he told Tara with a straight face. The blonde's sapphire eyes bulged out of her head at the man's bluntness. Willow nearly choked on her fries as he said that. The red head's face turned pink.

"Cool it you two; I was only kiddin'," he said with a small smile as he turned to go back to his job. Willow sent daggers his way and Tara began to laugh full heartedly.

The chief looked at her, questioning the blonde's sanity. With a raise of Willow's eyebrow, Tara began to explain. "The look on your face was priceless, I swear. I wish I had my camera!"

Willow decided the mature thing to do was to not retaliate. She simply stuck out her tongue to the blonde.

The two ate in relative silence for the rest of the meal. Willow picked up the check, insisting that she was merely thanking the blonde for her work. After Tara retorted that she was being paid for her hard work, Willow stuck her tongue out again.

When they returned to Willow's apartment, they headed off to their separate rooms. Willow put Miss Kitty in her room. Willow turned to say goodnight to the blonde, but stopped short when she saw Tara deep in thought.

"Uh, Tara? You need something?" she asked, not really wanting to disturb the blue eyed beauty in her thought process.

Tara looked at her all of a sudden, a look of curiosity plastered across her face. Then very innocently, she replied to Willow. "No, I'm just trying to determine if you really are a wildcat." She smirked and walked up to Willow. She lightly flicked the patch on Willow's uniform that said "Sol Island Police". Tara half smirked at Willow and said, "G'night Chief."

With that, the blonde sauntered into the bedroom, leaving a very aroused redhead in the hall way.

Damn she's good at that!

After Willow recovered, she turned to go into her own bedroom, pictures of Tara dancing through her mind.

Continue to Jaws of Hell Chapter Nine

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