~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Willow opened the front door and looked around. No one was there.
"Great, just what I need," Willow mumbled to herself. "On top of dealing with graduation jitters, I've got to contend with some snot-nosed neighborhood kid playing pranks with the doorbell."
She glanced down to see the white box laying on the doorstep. She took another quick look around. Whoever had left it was long gone.
Willow carried the box to the sofa and tugged the envelope off the front. She pulled out the square of paper tucked inside and read the brief note:
"Willow ~ Wear this for me tonight. I get the first dance, and the last. ~ Angel."
She smiled and untied the string from around the package. She lifted the lid and stared in confused wonder at the dress inside. Too short, too strapless, too right.
"How the hell did he get his hands on this?" she whispered as she drew out the Good-Will refugee and rand her hands over the silky material. *** The party was just getting into full swing as Willow entered the five-star restaurant and shed her wrap. She handed it to the smiling hostess and stepped into the room.
"There you are," Buffy greeted Willow. "I was beginning to think you were going to back out on me."
Willow's eyes scanned the room, "Everything looks beautiful."
"Yeah. Mom knows how to throw a party," Buffy nodded. "Have you seen Angel?"
"Angel? Me? Why would I have seen Angel? I don't--" she stopped at the puzzled look on her friend's face. "Oh, sorry. Graduation nerves. No, I haven't seen Angel."
"Graduation's over, Will. We survivied. Come on, let's celebrate," Buffy pulled Willow over to their table.
"Hey, Willow," Xander said as his eyes traveled down Willow's body. "You know, that dress just isn't you."
Buffy smacked the back of Xander's head, "You know what I think your problem is? That dress is too much Willow, and you can't handle it."
Xander rubbed his head, "Willow was meant to be heard, not seen."
"Up yours, Xander," Willow grumbled and stepped away from the table.
"Don't pay any attention to him," Buffy hurried to Willow's side. "You look great."
Willow smiled, "Thanks. I'm going to get something to drink. Want anything?"
"No, I'm good," Buffy answered.
By the time she returned to her friends, Angel had arrived. He pulled out a chair for her and moved it slightly closer to his own.
"You're gorgeous," he said, gazing at her approvingly.
"Thank you," she murmured as a delicate blush graced her cheeks.
The four sat and talked over the events of the day--the long, monotonous orator at the commencement ceremonies; the unforgettable moment when Cordelia's heel caught in the hem of her gown, nearly sending her toppling over on her nose as she walked across the stage; the unbelievable feeling of receiving their diplomas. Angel listened in patient boredom and slid his hand under the table to caress Willow's knee.
Their conversation was interrupted by the band as it began to play the first song of the evening. Angel took Willow's hand and pulled her up onto her feet.
"The first dance is mine," he reminded her.
Buffy's bewildered stare followed the couple as they walked onto the dance floor.
"Is anybody else experiencing a recurring nightmare?" Xander asked as he watched the vampire pull the tiny redhead into his arms.
"He's just trying to make her feel comfortable," Buffy reasoned.
"Well, it's working. She certainly looks comfortable enough," Xander noted.
Buffy shifted uneasily in her chair.
"Dance?" Xander offered.
"No, thanks," she shook her head. "I think I'll sit this one out." *** "Buffy must have a million thoughts running through her mind right now," Willow said as Angel held her close to him.
"Want to make it a million and one?" he asked.
She looked at him questioningly.
"It's hot in here, and I'm cold-blooded," he smiled.
"You're non-blooded," she giggled.
"Let's get some air," he suggested.
"You don't do that, either," she laughed.
"Behave yourself, kitten, or I'll stick my tongue down your throat right here in front of everyone," he cautioned her.
"Air," she said and stepped out of his embrace. "Air is good. Let's get some air." *** "How did you manage to get your hands on this dress?" Willow asked as they stood outside the French doors that led back into the dining room.
Angel grinned, "I have my methods. No one else should ever wear that dress. It was meant for you. You look good enough to eat."
"Figuratively speaking," she added.
Angel patted her ass, "Not necessarily."
She looked up at him in embarrassed amusement, and he drew her closer and brushed his lips against hers.
"We shouldn't," she whispered, "Buffy--"
"No. No Buffy," he said softly. "Just Willow."
His tongue played along her lips and drew them into a deep, lingering kiss. Willow trembled against him as his hand moved up under her dress. He moaned as he felt the garter and the silky fabric of her panties.
"I thought you'd like that," she grinned.
"I'd like you in anything, kitten," he told her and pulled her into another kiss.
Willow heard the sound of the latch on the doors as Buffy opened them from inside the restaurant. She pushed against Angel, but he held her firmly.
"Angel, no," she pleaded.
"She has to know sometime," he told her.
"Not now. Not tonight, please. It's the wrong time."
"There isn't going to be a right time, sweetheart. I'm tired of hiding what I feel," he said.
He pulled her roughly against him and kissed her hard as Buffy stepped out of the doorway. Willow's heart jumped as she heard her friend's sharp gasp.
"Willow?" disbelief echoed through the single word.
Angel released Willow's lips, but kept his arms tightly around her.
A thousand questions formed and died on the slayer's lips, and all she could utter was, "Why?"
"I'm sorry, Buffy. I never meant for it to happen this way," Willow said.
"I don't understand. Is it the champaign? Have you been possessed?" Buffy asked.
"No, Buffy," Angel answered.
"I know. It's the shock of graduating. It finally caught up with you, and--"
"No," Angel repeated firmly. "Willow and I have been together for awhile now."
"Together? Together as in, 'Let's go for a walk?' Together as in, 'Come over and watch TV with me?'"
"Together as in, 'Come to bed with me,'" Angel said.
Buffy's mouth dropped open, and she wrapped her arms around herself, "No. I don't believe that. It isn't true."
"It is," he promised.
The slayer's eyes turned on Willow, "You bitch. Get the hell out of my party."
"Buffy, wait--" Willow called out as the blonde fled back inside.
"Willow, let her go," Angel gripped her arm. "No more games. No more pretenses."
"Angel, she's my friend!"
"I know that. This was never about hurting her, but we both knew it had to, eventually," he told her.
"I need to talk to her," Willow begged.
"Not now. She won't listen to you. Give her a couple of days," he suggested. "Let her be, for now. Come home with me."
Willow looked at him, a mixture of regret and uncertainty plaguing her eyes.
He hugged her close, "It'll be all right, Willow. It really will. Come home with me."
She nodded once and allowed him to lead her away from the restaurant.
The End