DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX, Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. Theirs, not mine. AUTHOR'S NOTE: JMW Turner is the artist that Spike and Tara discuss in this fic. If you haven’t seen his work, check it out. “You’re lucky she’s a good witch. If your mum was harder hearted, she’d turn you into a toad.” I picked up the trailing pile of yarn and waved it at the kitten. “Do you know this was her favorite sweater?” “Meow,” she replied, as she stared at me with expressive green eyes. “Look, Demon.” I picked her up and peered in her face. “Do you understand the difference between a ball of yarn and a sweater?” “Meow,” said the small fluffy cat. She shook her head, and the bell on her collar tinkled. I looked down at the blue tangled mess in my hand. “Well, yeah, good point. There isn’t much of a difference now.” Tara came in the room and put down her bag of books. She wore a corset and a long full skirt, made of soft velvet the color of moss.  “I missed you so much!” she exclaimed as she grabbed the kitten from my hands and twirled her around. I cleared my throat loudly and raised my eyebrows, which made her laugh. She put down the cat and kissed me sweetly. “I missed you too,” she said with a smile. I held her close and kissed her neck. “So how were your classes today?” “Life Drawing went pretty well,” she said, “I’m not really happy with the angle of the left arm in the sketch that I’m doing, but I think I know where I want to go with it. English Romantics was a bit challenging. We were assigned a research project.” “Speaking of English romantics,” I said, as I cupped my hands over her breasts. She gently pushed them away and gave me a peck on the cheek. “I have to keep my grades up for my scholarship, and spending the day in bed again isn’t going to help,” she said regretfully. “Will you come with me to the library?” She bent over the book that she was reading. Her hair fell over her cheek and hid one eye from view. I watched the rise and fall of the lace that constrained the fullness of her breasts.  Just one firm pull on the tightly knotted cord and I could slowly pull the lace free of the hooks that held it. It would be so easy to slide the corset over her shoulders, and remove the blouse underneath. My hands itched to touch the rosy flesh of her breasts, and my mouth yearned to taste her delicate nipples. “I bet I know what you’re thinking,” said Tara, a smile on her lips. “Sorry?” I said to her as I quickly adjusted myself under the table. “You were thinking about how amazing Turner’s use of light was,” she said as she gestured to the large art book that was open on the table in front of me. “Right,” I said as I looked down at the book. “Did you know there is a special collection here at the University? There are some of his papers, and a few oil paintings and watercolors. We could go look at them,” she said. “Whatever you want, pet,” I said. We stood up from the table and walked through the cavernous library to the information desk. Tara showed her ID badge and signed a log, and received a key from the dour clerk. I followed Tara’s swishing skirt up a small flight of metal stairs. “Turner was a true master,” she explained as she walked along a long gallery. “No one has ever been able to duplicate the quality that he brought to his work.” She stopped in front of a door and opened it. She led me into a large room that held a long table, glass bookcases, and artwork displayed on the walls. I walked over to a large painting. The sun rose over the mountains, rose and amber streaks across the canvas signaling the birth of a new day. “This really is quite beautiful, “ I said to Tara. I felt her come up behind me. She slid her hand into mine and turned me around to face her. ”You’re beautiful,” she said softly as she undid the buttons on my shirt. “Tara…” I gasped as she slid the shirt off my shoulder and brought her mouth to my nipple. She stroked her tongue across it, and licked gently. I pulled her up, and kissed her hungrily. “I want to touch you,” I whispered in her ear.  She led my hand to her corset, and I freed her from it as she kissed my neck. Her warm mouth slid over my skin as my hands pulled off her shirt. She was naked underneath, and I pressed her bare chest against mine. “I love the way my skin tingles when we touch,” she said. I ran my hands over her shoulders and across her breasts. I bent to kiss each nipple gently in turn. “I love how soft you are, how sweet.” She unbuttoned my pants and slipped both hands inside. I gasped as her delicate touch ran up and down my shaft, around the head, and gently cupped my sack. “I love it when you’re hard, so hard and full of need, and I know it’s because of me,” she said as she stared up at me. Her eyes were so wide, so honest, and so true.

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