BTVS: It’s not a case of but...
Fandom: BTVS / Anita Blake
Summary: Willow Rosenberg contemplates an offer from a were-wolf.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction and a work of transformation, which pretty well guarantees that “ownership,” of the characters belongs to others (Warner Bros. and J. Whedon, and Laurel K. Hamilton) and that this work is entirely based on affection. This work is an interpretation and not for-profit, (though it may be for praise and enjoyment) Reference to persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
-----BTVS & AB-----
Willow has had exactly two men in her life that she would willingly sleep with in a sexual way, perhaps three, except that he is dead. She explains this very carefully to this self-introduced Jason, enunciating the names of her past lovers and current female lover with care. But, as usual the interested person’s eyes seem to glaze over in a mix of “lust,” and “I’ll be the one to fix that.” The lust she understands, as she sometimes does the same thing. She, however, knows the difference between fantasy and reality, as she’s certainly been dipped in it enough. The urge to fix something that isn’t broken, she does not get. Yes, science indicates that sexuality has some fluidity, but it also has elements of choice and background and any number of sundry things that affect the outcome. She isn’t just saying she’s gay for the heck of it, no matter how pretty the male in question is.
And, this male is undoubtedly pretty, with his washboard abs and beautiful mouth. She notices his incredible eyes that seem to glow with a wild light; which she recognizes pretty easily. Oz had this same inner glow.
But she loved Oz for specific reasons that were tangential to his inner beast. She loved Oz for Oz. Xander for Xander. Tara for Tara. Kennedy for Kennedy.
Buffy for Buffy.
These are facts, immutable.
What this wolf and his sexy pheremones doesn’t know is that he never had a chance. Her gaze moves past him with only the slightest regret. But as she spots a familiar figure winding her way through the crowd, her inner smile rises to the surface, cresting in a wave of brilliance that takes the prospective suitor back.
His head swivels in the direction of her gaze, forcing the rest of his body to turn.
He inhales and then unconsciously steps back; not that he can go far with the bar pressing against his side.
Willow is aware, but feels no need to offer unnecessary solace. He took the risk when he pursued her, regardless of how she must have smelled to him. It’s not her first rodeo with a were-man.
The tiny blonde moves with a predator’s grace, not quite stalking, but shes slides into Willow’s space with graceful ease. It’s been a longtime coming.
“Hi,” Willow breathes, still amazed sometimes at how much has changed between them. Years of in-between melt away, as she slides off the barstool. Buffy wraps her arm around Willow’s waist, presses her lips against the red-head’s without any hesitation at all.
“Wanna dance?” the lithe little blonde breathes.
“With you, all the time.”
If the wolf thought the red-head’s smile was breathtaking, he finds the other woman’s smile dazzling and forgets to try to add himself to the equation. They are perfect as they are.