Author: lilyme Title: Rose

Summary: Willow makes up an excuse to lure Faith into the 'Casa del Summers'. But why? Is there something special about today?

Timeline: Season seven, before the SITs. The killing of Finch never happened, therefore Faith didn't turn evil. Tara didn't get shot in „Seeing red"; she left shortly after her break-up with Will mid-season six. Guess that's all you need to know ;)

Rating: R

Part: 2/2

Feedback: Yes, please

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, nor do I own any rights to the television show "Buffy the Vampire Slayer". They were created by Joss Whedon and belong to him, Mutant Enemy, Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises, 20th Century Fox Television and the WB Television Network.

Note #1: A big thanks to my lovely betas, Wil and Fai J

Note #2: There's a funny story behind this fic. You can read about it at the end of part two.

Note #3: You don't have to like this story, hehe. It's sort of a birthday present from me to...uh, me (born August 7th)...and me likes it :P


What the hell was I thinking? Maybe I shouldn't have answered the stupid phone.

'Hi, Fai. Can I ask you a favor?' Damn, I can never not fulfil her a wish when she calls me 'Fai'.

Me and building a shelf? My mouth said 'no prob' before my brain could do anything about it.

Yeah, 'no prob', I wish. Slayers dis-assembling stuff...even with bare hands...easy as pie. Slayer tinkering about on shelves...I should've kept my mouth shut. But maybe it's just me being all uncoordinated and stuff, I've never been good at this, even before the slayer gig – but I think it's worse now. Should ask B if she has problems with it too...

And why am I doing this alone, anyway? Yeah, okay, I mean, B and Dawnie are out, Xander's at work and his demon...no, ex-demon...I mean 'ex-girlfriend'...what's she up to right now? Can't possibly be a coincidence that I'm the only one available...but maybe I'm just paranoid.

Still...didn't she say 'I need a hand...'? Way I see it, that doesn't mean that I should have to do this alone...but here I am, sittin' on B's living room floor, staring at a bunch of stupid...wood slats...maybe wood-veneer slats...and even stupider nails, brackets, screws and nuts...why are there so many knick-knacks for this little shelf!? At least, I think it's little...looks like it on the construction manual. Oh, and don't even get me started on this thing...the menu at a Chinese restaurant is more informative than this. The pictures aren't helping either.

Funny that I actually pluck up the courage to lay my hands on the pieces that sort of look like item 1A and item 2C...construction manual-thingie says piece together, 90 ° angle...guess I need one of those brackets now, plus 4 of those little screws and...two nails...? For what? Huh? Oh...tack together with nails…for stability...before I do the thing with the screws...? Who came up with that idea? Oh, well...I'll better cooperate. Otherwise I'll have to deal with a mightily pissed-off slayer, in case the not-yet-shelf suddenly decides to fall to pieces and kills the wrong person…or the wrong 'thing'…in the process.

So I sit down Indian style and try to get the slats into the right position. Yeah, that's it...now I only need...a third hand...grrr. With some complicated foot work I manage to keep that one slat upright...just long enough to retrieve hammer and nail. Okay...here we go...

If Reddie were here, we could at least drown in despair together, and have some fun doing it. But, no...Little Missy went upstairs to do devil-knows-what! That was half an hour ago!

Am I pissed? That's a kinda appropriate word for it, I guess. This is not exactly how I had imagined this day to be like...with or without company. Not that anyone really knows about...huh, oh well, my bad. But they didn't ask either, so there! God, now I'm talking like a sulky little kid…I didn't even do that when I was little.

My loud hammering fills the unusually silent house. I seem to have enough coordination and self-control left to not make the nail go in with one single angry wham. Don't know if that would be good for the nail...or the wood (veneer), or my nerves. It's not her fault; I said 'no prob' and she doesn't know...

Still could've thought about something fun to do, instead. Admit it, Faithie, that's the true reason you came here. It's not like you're 'St. Faith of the infinite abstinence' all of the sudden. There's still urges that are looking for release. Strong urges...

...sometimes too strong urges, I notice as the inevitable happens and the hammer hits my thumb. Now I have another strong urge; "Ouch! Jesus fu...rickin'...Christ!" I yell and it rings in my ears; means that at least half of Sunnyhell must've heard it too.

Now I've had it! Injury after two minutes of trying – almost a new personal best. I know, I know, should've been more focused. Hard to stay focused on something that you don't wanna do. I lay down – or try to, ends in flinging it away from me – the hammer and look at my left thumb. I hit the nail squarely...unfortunately the non-metal one. That's gonna leave a nice long-lasting bruise. But nothing that nail polish can't cure. Now if it wasn't for that terrible throbbing...

"Faith?" I hear her voice behind me. Now, lookie here, Wonder Will coming to the rescue? I didn't even hear her come in, guess my slayer senses were too busy.

I try to put on my most neutral face, means neither angry or pain-stricken, and turn around to face her "Yeah, what's up, Re..."

The '…d' dies on my lips as my eyes are hit with one of the most incredible sights ever. All of the sudden the throbbing in my thumb is gone...or maybe it just fled to another, very interesting, part of my body.

There...ten feet away...she stands, dressed only in a...with a...I guess 'dressed' is the wrong word for this…

I mean, don't get me wrong, I've seen naked bodies before...lots of them, to be honest, and this body lots of times over the last months...but rarely like this. Not that anything is really different right now. She's still as damn gorgeous as I remember her. But maybe just a little bit more than usual.

My eyes rake over the muscular thighs, the long legs, slender arms, cute little…no, not that little, but, anyway…cute breasts...I can only see half of her abs, there's something she's holding at waist level that my horny brain can't make out right now.

"What are you doing?" I ask perplexed, surprised that I'm able to form sentences at all.

Oh, God...she really seems to consider this question. Poor girl, can never go two seconds without thinking...no, not 'never'...make that a 'rarely', I know better by now.

And looking down at her hands, she says "Giving you your present?" It's barely a whisper.

She knows about it! That's so...I don't even care how she found out, but she cared enough to do it. I could have made it easy and told her, but, no…

This way it makes me even happier. So happy that I feel tears welling up in my eyes. But before they get a chance to overcome me, I get up and walk over to her.

And now I can finally see what she's actually holding in her delicate little fingers. A single red rose. Beautiful...and with that I'm not just referring to said flower.

I take her hands into mine and look at her – and this time I'm talking about her face. She has this look on that is somewhere between expectant and anxious…I remember it so well from the first night we spent together. Back then when she was all insecure and told me that she's only been with one single woman before me and doesn't know if she's good enough.

And I remember how I made the anxious part of her expression go 'poof' that night…God, I'm talking like her...

Anyway, making expression go poof – I lean in and give her a little peck on the cheek. A few months ago, this had been the key...of course followed by some reassuring words and some demonstrating that she is good afterwards.

That's exactly what I wanna have now – again. But there is also something else we did that night. And as I see her purse her lips, intending to kiss me back, I step out of her reach and take the flower with me. "That's a beautiful rose, Red, thanks." I say and walk out of the room, through the dining room into the kitchen.

So, what did we do that night, you ask yourself? Breaking it off when it just was starting to get fun? No...but a little bit of teasing. She was the tease mostly, not always giving me exactly what I wanted when I wanted it the most. Sounds weird, but I adore her for it. She was the first to teach me that it doesn't all have to be rush, rush, rush when you hop into the sack with someone.

One more reason for me to take this short breather, I would've rushed things otherwise. Need a few milliseconds to cool down (oh, that sight…). And maybe to wipe the few happy tears off that have fought their way through my tear ducts, anyway.

Okay…ready. Enough of the teasing now, I should go back in. Before she gets mad at or sad because of me, or...oh, shock(!)...gets dressed again and even worse, goes back upstairs without me.

I decide to sneak in through the little foyer, catch her by surprise. And, boy, that was a wise decision. Just look at that ass, oh, Lordy! If that girl isn't hot, then I don't know what is…

What was that thing I just said about no rushing? Forget it. I rush by the shelf-come-obstacle-field and embrace her naked form tightly from behind, giving her no chance to leave the room...because that is what she was just about to do.

As I press against her, I groan a little "I like my prezzie!" into her ear. And when I see her smiling down at my hands that are holding her rose, and her hands that are holding mine...I don't know…I feel complete somehow. Maybe we should finally axe that thing with the friends and the benefits and make it a real thing. A 'realationship', so to say.

Whoa, hey, that thought coming from me...that's an achievement. But it's something I've been thinking about over the last weeks.

I bite her neck lightly, before I loosen my grip a little and give her the chance to turn around...and me the chance to look at her sexiness again.

Oh, yeah, my sexy lady. Simply can't keep my eyes off her...Oh, not that you're thinking that I'm only hot for her body! Oh, no, no, no...I like the whole package! Nubile, cute and smart – the perfect mix.

My eyes meet hers again and I see the twinkle in them, accented by the light make-up that she's put on. I usually prefer her without it though, that way I get to see all this natural beauty. Not that I'm gonna tell her this right now, she's put so much effort into it.

I don't know what it is, but I just have to smile at her. She has that effect people; they smile when she smiles, they cry when she does. What do you call that? Empathy? Doesn't matter.

I'm about to lose that thought soon, anyway, cuz now her lips are heading for mine. And I let it happen and start to kiss back after a few seconds.

And I try to take it slow. 'Try' being the operative word...don't know if it's just something about her that makes me rush things...I never usually tried to take it slow with others. Maybe I'm just too hot for her to control myself.

Before my brain even has a chance to catch up, my hands develop an life of their own. Oh, God, what do I wanna touch first??? Brain and hands are in sync in their indecisiveness – brain mentally following hands on their tour over...through Willow-Wonder-Land, at last settling down somewhere...and I meant 'down somewhere'...'down somewhere' being her butt. I have to remember the rose in my hand. She's gonna have a flower-y imprint on that one cheek, if I squeeze too hard.

My tongue is not ranking behind my hands in that matter; it has grown its own brain and licks a path up to Willy-baby's ear. It knows that she likes that.

One moment later I feel her trembling and have to react quickly to keep her standing up-right. Don't want us crashing to the floor...

...Although...the two of us plus floor isn't necessarily a bad thing.

God, all that extra thinking...gets me even more turned on than I already am. But today I don't want the living room floor, today I prefer the comfy bed.

She nods before I even ask the question, guess she saw it in my eyes. I give her another short kiss...and then remember the apparent, lame excuse she cooked up to make me come here today.

"What about the...?" I refer to the offensive accumulation of wood...veneer and other knick-knack behind my back. I hope she didn't really want me to put that together, but I'm not 100 per cent sure.

She looks at it briefly and starts to grin. "Are you kidding? Xander's gonna come over sometime…maybe tomorrow or the day after that."

I can't help but chuckle. Definite relief here. "Oh, good. You know what that means?"

"What?" she asks and I can see that she already knows what it means.

I grab her hand over fist and heave her naked body onto my shoulder. "That means I got aaaalll day to play with my prezzie!"

I grip her securely as we run up the stairs, don't want her to slip out of my hands.

And suddenly I feel a short, pinching pain at my butt cheek.

"Hey, I think I said that I get to play with my prezzie," I scold her playfully and tighten my grip even more; and if it causes her some minimum pain...oh, well, she just pinched, she deserves a little bit of revenge.

One corner and one door later, we're finally in Will's inner sanctum. "Too bad that it's all unwrapped already," I pout a little as I lay my prezzie down on the bed.

She looks at me with this 'I-got-an-idea'-expression and leans up on her elbows."You know, if you really, really want to, we can do something about that...," she grins and nudges me with her foot.

And of course that gets me thinking. Oh, fun images...Will with a big ribbon around her waist...or Will hopping out of a giant gift box...or simply your downright plain cheerleader outfit. Oh, hey, B was a cheerleader in high school...I bet she's still got her uniform somewhere...

But, hm…

"Hmmm...nah, thanks, maybe later. I'm good for now," I smirk and crawl into bed and on top of her, bracing my arms at her sides.

The non-human part of the present is in her hands again and she takes the opportunity to tickle my face with the soft red petals.

"Okay, then. Happy Birthday," she whispers and gives me her loveliest smile.

I lean down to kiss her. Yeah, very happy birthday. Had to wait 20 years for a present like this one. Nothing can stop me from making full use of it now.

And if it's up to me, then we're gonna celebrate my birthday every day from now on. Or maybe her birthday. Or Easter. Or Christmas...no, wait, Hanukkah. Doesn't matter. We'll find many, many things to celebrate, I'm sure.

-- End --


how it came to this fic:

Well, me and my beta Wil were chatting about another fic I'm writing and somehow this little misunderstanding happened ;):

me: what would be Season-3-Willow's ideas of a sexy-but-not-too-sexy outfit for herself...?
wil: rose
me: huh?
wil: rose is a pink
me: i think willow would wear it
me: ah, I thought you meant the flower
wil: no
me: you should have seen the image I had in my head just now... ;)
wil: hee
me: i dont think i need to
me: "rose?...where?...and nothing else...?"
wil: a really big rose
me: well, the rose wasn't all that big...that's the problem...
me: oh god...
wil: HA
me: I need another image...
wil: faith and a rose
me: oh, no, that's even worse
wil: both of them and only one rose
me: you're spoiling me...

That combined with a night of not being able to sleep...and voila, the story wrote itself in my head.

Anyway, I hope you guys liked it ;)