Disclaimer: I don't own Angel or Drop Dead Fred. I'd have a house in France if I did. :)
"You don't think I'm crazy, do you?" Fred asked as Wesley massaged her shoulders.
"Imaginative, yes. Crazy... possibly," he answered and she could just hear the grin in his voice.
"Snotty Englishman," she groaned as he worked out a particularly tense knot in her neck.
"What do you expect me to say?" he asked.
"That you believe me," she answered simply though she could barely believe it herself.
"Well, you have to admit, an imaginary friend named Fred who shaved shapes into your dog's fur does sound a bit far fetched," Wesley joked.
"This coming from the man who fights vampires and demons?" Fred said sarcastically.
"Point taken," he said as he kissed her neck and continued the massage.