Well Then
by Anne-Lise
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She shouldn't have come.
She knew it'd been a mistake from the moment she'd tentatively knocked on Buffy's bedroom door. The feeling grew stronger with every minute she stood, emotions naked before Buffy's gaze, and endured the searing pain of humiliated silence.
Willow drew a steadying breath and opened her eyes.
A naked Buffy Summers stood before her. A naked, very aroused Buffy.
"Do you like what you see?" Buffy asked with just a hint of mischief colouring her bright eyes.
Willow shivered, feeling suddenly very feminine and very exposed. "Buffy, I... I don't want to mess things up between..."
Buffy's fingers traced the reverie on Willow's face, her smile an anodyne to Willow's uncertainty. "Always with the humility," Buffy whispered. Willow let herself fold into Buffy's willing arms.
"Willow?" Buffy's voice drew her out from the dream as Buffy shook her sleeping body. "Willow?"
Willow opened her eyes, caught in that timeless moment between fantasy and reality, in the warm cocoon of sleep's waking embrace.
Buffy's eyes widened, as Willow pulled her down for a kiss.
"Willow!"
Willow's eyes cleared, and she woke up fully.
"Oh my god!"
Shocked Dawn standing in the doorway. Shocked Buffy caught in the headlights. And Willow, hiding under a duvet.
*
Here is Willow, mortified Willow, driving a car by the power of her magic; subconscious steering, Brownian navigation. She cares not for her destination.
Poor Buffy, lost in swirling thoughts and panicked frenzy, chasing after on foot, leaping fences and walls with little regard for poor Fido.
Mollified Dawn, wrong to think her sister was gay, alone in her bedroom pondering her own sexuality, naked in front of the dress mirror. Unsure of herself but she likes what she sees. Maybe Willow would too.
*
Willow, lost in the woods. The car left behind, now she is alone. In the dark forests outside of Sunnydale. Not wise.
A gesture; word of power that brings faerie light to guide her feet. The moon adds its kind pallour. The skies are clear, and its a warm, humid spring night.
Almost perfect.
Soon, free of clothes, her panties pooled by her feet then kicked away, she feels free. Let them get wrinkled.
Now she thinks about ants, and bugs, and she collects her discarded clothes and wards them. She spreads her arms and spins in aimless circles enjoying the warm breeze on her naked body, not thinking, but feeling.
Here, she is a woodland nymph. She's always loved this dancing naked, in the dark, in the woods. A true witch.
Her laughter bubbles up, and the stresses of the day and the confusion she felt inside... disappear, for now.
*
Confused Buffy, still, watching Willow dancing naked in the clearing. Wonders at the spell, or madness, that consumes her best friend.
Wonders also at the feelings that well up within; desires and needs she's long kept in check.
The sudden urge to call out to Willow, make love to her on the dew-cool moss that fills the clearing. She blushes, her own skin glows in the pallid moonlight.
Maybe its a spell. But magic is certain, and so is her realisation that she, Buffy Summers, is totally and completely in love with Willow Rosenberg.
*
Willow, naked, on Buffy's bed.
Willow draws a steadying breath and opens her eyes.
A naked Buffy Summers stands before her. A naked, very aroused Buffy.
"Do you like what you see?" Buffy asks with just a hint of mischief colouring her bright eyes.
"Hell yes," Willow agrees and flashes her quirky grin.
"I love you, Willow Rosenberg." Buffy replies and climbs onto the bed for a hug, maybe a kiss.
Willow provides both. "I love you too, Buffy Summers."
As Buffy's fingers reach out tentatively to Willow's breasts, Willow finds herself hoping not to awaken.