SPRING FLING (11/12)
 

Willow was a mess. The dance was over. She and Angel had just left with hugs
to Cordelia and Buffy, leaving the others behind as they had walked into the
night air. She had spent a large part of the dance trying to seduce him.
Well, she wasn't really sure what she was doing could be called seducing, but
to her it was. She had danced with him all night, deliberately moving her
body as close to his as morally possible in front of dozens of people. All
she had accomplished was turning herself on. He hadn't reacted at all, just
smiling that sexy lazy smile and dancing as if they were two feet apart. She
had felt his body against hers as they moved, the feel of his hand on the
small of her back, his other hand resting possessively on the side of her
waist or around her shoulders, depending on the type of music playing. When
dancing had proven to do nothing more than excite her, she had decided to sit
a few dances out.
 

She had sat close to him at the table that Xander had claimed, their knees
touching. She had fed him a few snacks from the buffet area, his lips licking
her fingers after each bite. She had been caught several times, one
embarrassing time by Buffy, simply watching his tongue lap at her fingers.
Then, he'd returned the favor, feeding her some of the tasty morsels. She had
thought that maybe he would react the same that she had to the teasing
tongue. She had taken his fingers into her mouth, sucking the juice from the
pieces of fruit that he had given her. She had ran her tongue over his
fingers, nipping at his flesh with her blunt teeth before pulling back and
chewing the fruit. When she had looked at him from under her lashes, he
wasn't even looking at her. His attention was on the dancers, showing her
nothing except his profile and a nerve twitching in his cheek. When he had
finally looked back at her, he had smiled and suggested another dance. No
hint of lust or need at all.
 

She had begun to wonder why he had asked her to the dance. Well, why he had
tricked her into asking him. They had kissed three times, each kiss growing
more passionate, in her opinion. Yet, he didn't seem to want her at all.
After dancing a bit more, they had sat down with Buffy and the others.
Meeting Buffy's crush and listening to Xander and Cordelia argue then make
up. She had touched him every chance that she could, not only to seduce him
but because she loved touching him. She loved the feel of his skin underneath
her fingers, cursed the clothing for getting in the way. And he'd touched
her, his hand resting on shoulder, his fingers drawing small circles into her
flesh as he had spoken to the others. He had laughed, something that caused
Buffy to look at him in surprise and Xander to gape with an open mouth. And
still, he just looked at her and smiled with no hints of secret lust or
longing to make love to her.
 

They had finally left the dance near eleven after people started to drift
away. He was walking her home, the silence between them comforting in a way
but also damn annoying. She wanted him to want her, not just enjoy her
friendship. She felt so foolish for thinking that he could have felt
something for her. For letting those few kisses make her believe that someone
like him would ever want someone like her. She didn't know what she had been
thinking. She pulled her arms tight around her, feeling suddenly like a
little girl playing dress up. This had all been a farce, her sexy dress and
seduction techniques. He was her friend, just her friend. He had not wanted
the others to miss the dance because of her. He hadn't want her to miss the
dance. That was why he had asked her. There had never been any sort of wicked
intent in his mind, much to her disappointment. She had never felt this alive
before, this aroused. All night had been like some torturous foreplay
excercise, only she was going home alone with no way of alleviating the
tension. Well, there was a way but it wasn't exactly how she had dreamed for
this night to end.
 

She jumped slightly when she felt his hands on her shoulders. She looked
back, seeing that he was putting his coat around her. He must have thought
she was cold. She smiled, looking back forward without saying anything,
knowing that if she spoke, she wasn't sure what she might say. She just had a
little ways to go before she would be home. Then, she could go inside and cry
in the safety of her room. He was not going to see any tears from her, no
siree. He was her friend, one of her best friends. She would not lose him
over her silly fantasies and ridiculous assumptions. She felt him take her
hand as they continued walking, his coat balanced on her shoulders. She
almost groaned when she felt his finger brushing so gently against her palm.
She could see her house down the street, thank God. She didn't think she
could handle much more of this.
 

When they reached her front door, she unlocked it and faced him, "Well, I'm
home. Thanks. For taking me tonight," her eyes looked at his feet, unable to
meet his eyes for fear he would see her heart breaking.
 

"Willow," his soft voice spoke her name, causing goosebumps to rise.
 

She hastily continued, not wanting to deal with the big brush off, "It was
fun. You're a great friend, Angel. A real good friend."
 

She started to turn, the tears so close she could feel them. She felt his
hand on her arm and heard him laugh softly, the husky sound doing strange
things to her stomach, "Willow, what am I going to do with you?"
 

She turned, looking up at his question, her mouth opening to question him.
She gasped as he caught her mouth in a kiss, a demanding, feverish kiss that
shook her to the core of her being.
 

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