DISCLAIMER: No infringement of copyright is intended. You know the drill, anyone appearing on or mentioned on BtVS are ME's.
EXTRA WARNINGS and or SPOILERS: None
Predicament
by Eris © 2004 — All rights reserved.
“Keep still,” Willow ordered.
“Ow. Ow. OW!” her girlfriend mewled gritting her teeth.
Frowning, Willow paused, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m trying to be as gentle as I can,” she said, starting again slowly.
“Ow!” Tara cried once more.
“Oh, stop it,” the redhead scolded.
“Please hurry, Willow, it hurts.”
“Okay, but, the struggling, not helping.”
“Owie!” Tara whined.
“I’m doing my best, but we’re good and stuck here.” Willow huffed.
The blonde cringed again and covered her mouth so as not to scream, dying of embarrassment.
Willow sat back and sighed, “Try taking a deep breath through this next one.”
Tara closed her eyes and breathed deep.
“Ready?”
She nodded, but after only a few moments yelled out, “Ow-ow! Stop, sweetie, stop, it hurts too much.”
“I’m sorry baby, I wish there were another way to do this, but you vetoed the other way.”
“I-I-I changed my mind,” she blurted out now.
“You sure about this?”
Tara nodded quickly only to return to screaming, “Ow-ow-ow! Willow.”
“Sorry, sorry, we slipped into panic mode for a moment.” She shifted about hanging a leg off the bed. “Can you try and hold on while I get the scissors?”
Tara furrowed her brow. “Like I have a choice? Just hurry, sweetie.”
Crossing the room, she dug in Tara’s sewing basket for a pair of scissors, spurred on by her lover’s distressed whimpers. “You know, you can’t keep letting her do this,” she chastised, returning with the shears.
The blonde stuck out her lip, “I don’t just let her, it *just* happens.”
Willow retook her position and held onto the wiggling bundle. “Yeah, well, I know Miss Kitty really loves your hair, as do I. But, if she keeps getting all knotted up in it like this to the point I have to keep cutting her out, hair isn’t going to be an option anymore.”
Tara frowned and let out a piteous whine.
As the first golden tresses were cut, releasing a squirmy, still playful paw, Willow flashed a wicked grin. “It’d definitely solve one problem, only then I’d have to start calling you Butch and buy you muscle tees.”
Tara shot her horrified face protesting, “Don’t even joke about that!”
~ fin ~
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