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Covenant Encounters of the Ficlet-Series Kind

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Ficlet(s)

This story is No. 7 in the series "One-stop shop for my FFA's.". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: A series of ficlets both FFA and not involving the Sunnydale gang and the denizens of Ipswich.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Movies > CovenantamusewithaviewFR13125,9931199,5155 Jan 0830 Jul 08Yes

Anything?

Characters: Willow, Pogue

For fal who requested Willow/Pogue.

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Willow grinned as her student's eyes glowed with a pure white light. When at last they cleared to reveal his usual amber green, she couldn't help but squeal and throw her arms around him.

"You did it! You finally did it!"

"Finally?" He grinned at her, flashing the dimples that never failed to give her the belly-rumblin's. "What do you mean, finally? You'd think I was slow or something."

"Oh! No, no, no! That's not what I meant at all! I'm just so excited that you got it and this means that you won't die young and now the curse isn't really a curse at all and aren't you excited! This is exciting!" She wriggled in his arms like an overeager puppy, missing the way his eyes darkened with something far more dangerous than magic. Willow leaned back to beam up at him, "You can do anything you want now, Pogue."

"Really?" He widened his eyes comically, "Anything?"

"Anything," she nodded. Then it was her turn for wide eyes when his lips pressed against hers. He was warm and soft and she found herself leaning into him while his arms locked around her and pulled her close.

Minutes later Pogue pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers. He watched her lids flutter before opening fully to reveal dazed hazel eyes. "Been wanting to do that for months."

"Months?" Willow squeaked. "I mean - um, that was a bad - " Her eyes drifted back to his mouth and she licked her lips unconsciously. "You - you're barely legal! I'm practically Mrs. Robinson," she murmured plaintively.

"You're twenty-four, not forty-four," Pogue replied patiently. "Wait... Mrs. Robinson slept with her younger man," he eyed her hopefully.

"Pig."

Pogue leaned in and rubbed his nose in her long red hair, "Oink oink."

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