Oh, right. Like Joss Whedon (who owns Willow and Fred) and J.K. Rowling (who has compared herself to Hermione at times, of course she created her) would get together, sign up on a joint account, and produce *this* bit of fluff?
"Well, that was . . . kinda different," stammered Fred.
"Different in a good way, I hope," Willow asked, sitting up and looking concerned.
"Well, yeah. Really good, in fact. But it’s just . . . things . . . fit together, y’know . . . differently, doin’ it this way."
"Well, speaking as someone who’s tried several different ways of fitting those things together," Hermione announced from the other side of the bed, "that was nifty."
"Hey! That’s my line!" Willow accused the brunette.
"Well, you get to deliver the punch line of this story, so the rest of us gotta make with the funny up until then," the other witch answered with a smirk.
"Not fair," Willow pouted, crossing her arms.
"Gosh – look at those," Fred gasped, ogling the parts of Willow’s anatomy that her angry gesture had emphasized.
"Ahhhh! And again with stealing my lines!"
"Awww, don’t be mad," Hermione said, leaning over to comfort the redhead.
"Yeah," Fred added. "We’re gonna stop with the talkin’ and make with the lovin’ now . . . as soon as you deliver your big line."
Willow grinned and kissed both girls. "Xander was right. Smart chicks are so hot."