Secret Slasha – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project
Secret Slasha – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project

By saraslash
For minervacat

Fred has always looked at naked women from the corners of her eyes: friends in silky pink panties changing beside her at sleep-overs in high school, the girls next to her in the locker room, a website she went to once (purely for scientific purposes, of course) and then quickly clicked away from, embarrassed. And if her relationships with men were more about needing to feel close to someone than about passion, well. Her mother had always said that women don't have sex drives. (Intellectually, Fred knows this probably isn't particularly true. Still.)

For the past week (ever since Willow leaned over a tray of test tubes in the lab and kissed her), Fred has been researching homosexuality. At work, she's shuffled library books under copies of Science and Nature, and in the evenings, she's given porn another try. A lot of the information doesn't seem to apply to her, and the porn is still more embarrassing than hot, but whenever Fred's eyes meet Willow's, she gets a tingly feeling in her belly, and she's pretty sure there's a goofy grin all over her face.

So. The kiss, the research, and then Chinese takeout late Saturday night working on a project in the lab after everyone else has gone home. Now, Willow's leaning her head back and dangling lo mein noodles over her mouth with cheap wooden chopsticks and laughing; Fred is mesmerized. "Why did you kiss me?" she blurts out, without really thinking about it.

Willow jerks her head back up and sticks the chopsticks back into the carton. "Um, sorry, I--you were just...right there with me, you know? And really beautiful with your hair pulled back like that, and you had this thing in your eyes, I thought...anyway, it was impulsive and stupid, and I'm babbling, aren't I. I'm really sorry if I freaked you out or anything. I shoulda asked first."

Willow looks down at her hands and fiddles with the hem of her shirt. She's blushing, which Fred has never seen her do before. "No," Fred breathes. "I mean, yeah, I was kinda...freaked out. But I liked it." This last bit comes in a rush, Fred getting the words out quickly so she doesn't have time to second-guess herself.

Willow looks up at her with this little shy, half-smile that makes Fred's stomach flip. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Fred nods. "Was it--was it just a thing, or would you ever want to, you know, do it again sometime?"

Willow reaches over the table and brushes her thumb over Fred's lower lip. After all the anticipation of the past week, it's all Fred can do not to shudder from the light touch.

She lets her hand drop away, smiles encouragingly at Fred, who smiles shakily. Willow gets up and grabs her hand, pulls her into the break room where they sink down into the cushions of the tacky leather couch and this time it's Fred who leans over and kisses Willow tentatively. Willow responds eagerly, her tongue reaching out to lick at Fred's lips. After a moment, they pull apart and Fred laughs a little nervously. "Sorry. Never done this with a girl before, you know?"

"Yeah." Willow smiles, and tells her about Tara, about how at first everything was new and wonderful, but also a little scary. About how even after everything went to shit, she never regretted loving her. Fred whispers back secrets about Charles and how she loved him--she really did--but his kisses never made her feel like this.

After a bit, there's a comfortable silence between them, and Willow brings her hand up to Fred's cheek, cupping it gently. Fred leans into the touch, moving easily when Willow pulls her closer. It isn't long before Willow's got Fred pressed up against the arm of the couch gasping, kissing her for all she's worth. Fred's hands scrabble at the buttons to Willow's shirt, and she has the wild thought that they're about to have sex here, in the lab, not twenty feet away from the new weapons experiments, where a coworker with a forgotten file could walk in any moment and there are potentially security cameras, though Fred doubts this last bit. Then Willow's sucking at her neck, at the spot where her skin curves delicately into her collar bone, and she tilts her head back with a moan, forgetting everything else.

Clothes disappear quickly, in a flurry of hands and the occasional giggle. Willow's hands are behind her own back, about to unhook her bra, when Fred stops her, reaching behind the other woman to take the bits of lace into her own hands. She draws the material off slowly, running her fingers lightly over Willow's skin. Willow draws in a breath, but Fred is holding hers. She stops for a moment, then reaches out to cup a round breast in her hand. It feels heavier than her own do, and Willow's nipples (tightening as Fred circles one slowly with a fingertip) are a duskier shade of pink than her own.

Fred wants to catalogue every plane of Willow's body, every nuance of shading, the taste of each bit of skin. Her mouth finds the slightly damp line under Willow's breasts and she runs her tongue along it; her hands smooth up Willow's thighs; she can't get enough. Fred looks up from her explorations and Willow's head is tilted back, the smooth column of her throat drawing Fred toward it. She slides up Willow's body and licks her neck, long and slow. Willow lets out a loud, low moan that is stifled by the pressure of Fred's lips upon hers.

They kiss, and Willow's hand dances along the top of Fred's panties (white cotton, because she wasn't expecting anything like this, and hasn't for a long while). Fred arches her back and Willow slips her hand under the hem, tickling her folds with her fingers. Fred wriggles harder against the touch, trying to get it in just the right spot, and...oh. Fred whimpers as Willow circles her clit faster, her other hand grabbing at Fred's bottom and pulling her closer. Fred's hands squeeze Willow's shoulders as Willow leans down, drawing off Fred's panties with one hand, gently pushing apart her thighs with the other and pressing a kiss against her clit.

It's so unexpected that Fred cries out, bucking her hips so that Willow has to hold them down to keep her still. Willow tongues her clit while two fingers push into her rhythmically. Fred hears the squeaking leather, and her own breathy gasps, and then Willow bites down ever so gently right on her clit, and sucks hard, and Fred's coming harder than she ever has before.

She lies there shaking for a few moments. Willow's head has somehow found its way onto her chest, and they lie there just breathing together for a moment. Fred's finger's tangle in Willow's hair, and then slide down her back, as far as they can reach. "I wanna--"

Fred shifts her hips, and Willow takes her lead, scooting under the other woman so that Fred's above her, holding herself up on her forearms. Fred leans down, kisses Willow full on the mouth and tastes herself there. She moves her way down Willow's body, kissing the line of her collar bone, the curve of her belly, the place where her thigh and her hip meet. She pauses between Willow's legs, suddenly and inexplicably a little embarrassed about all this.

Fred glances up to see Willow smiling at her, then reaches down, running the backs of her fingers against Willow's curls as Willow opens her legs in response. Willow looks different than she does (Fred's looked at herself in the mirror a few times, though it's been a while). Curious, Fred draws a line with her finger from Willow's opening, up and around her clit. She can hear Willow breathing harder, and whispering encouraging words to her, so she keeps going. She tries to touch Willow like she touches herself: soft, then hard, up and down, sometimes making the touch light and almost stopping to let the sensation build. Willow's moaning her name now, and her thighs are shaking from keeping them still. Fred speeds up, hears Willow shout, and then pulls her fingers away slowly, laying a hand on Willow's warm thigh.

Willow reaches down and holds onto her shoulder, pulling her up to lie beside her. They lay like that for a few moments, catching their breath and enjoying the afterglow, before Fred turns and looks at the glowing numbers on the microwave. "We should get out of here," she says quietly. Willow nods, shivering a little. The air feels cool now, against her drying skin. The two women put their clothes back on and then look at each other. The silence is awkward now, and neither one knows what to say.

Fred's about to look away, embarrassed, when Willow laughs, and says, "What are we doing? It's just us. C'mere." She pulls Fred close to her and smiles. Fred grins back, and grabs her hand as the two go back out into the lab and gather their coats for the drive home.