Since We've No Place to Go (Anya/Willow, PG13)
Second festive ficlet - a femslashy one. Feel free to prompt more - I have some suggested pairings from lutamira, might yet write some!
Title Since We've No Place To Go
Author Brutti ma buoni
Pairing Anya/Willow
Rating PG13
Words 730
Prompt for Snogged, in the festive round at femslash_minis, who wanted egg nog, "no stupid questions, only stupid people," a unique use for garland and Yule.
"In conclusion, I think it's important to keep our spirits up."
Anya looked perfectly serious. (Aside from the slutty Santa outfit and the tinsel garland twined around her waist. Obviously. Those were not even serious-adjacent touches.) Willow strove for an equal measure of gravity. It wasn't really fair to laugh at Anya for being Anya. Willow should be used to it by now.
"So… you think we should have sex?"
"Willow, either you have been attending to something else for the last five minutes, or that is a stupid question. And you know how I feel about stupid questions." Willow did. So did all the most recent potentials shipped into Sunnydale. They mostly heard the second half of the old adage ("…only stupid people."). They mostly did not take it very well.
"No, no I got that. It's just… isn’t this a little sudden?" Willow tried to look away from the peepholes in Anya's very red balconette 'Santa bra'. They seemed to be following her around the room even as she attempted avoidance. And really, who needed to even think the words Santa bra?
Anya looked a little peeved. "Sudden? But, we held hands and it got a little sexy. Only a few weeks ago. Surely you remember that. Also, you helped me when I wanted to be a demon again, years ago, and then again more recently when I foreswore my demon ways and- Face it, Rosenberg, we have a deep physical connection from way back." She stepped forward. Her bare nipples preceded her by two inches. Willow tried not to cower in the face of cleavage. "Also," added Anya, "I haven't had sex with a human woman since becoming a human woman, and that seems like a serious omission."
It was a good argument. Kind of. Willow hadn't had sex since Tara. That seemed like a necessary act of respect. Plus, with the evil rampage and the recovery, and the Coven being sort of monastic about sex, as well as the grieving process, she really hadn't been in that place lately. But at some point, she had to rejoin the sex-having part of society. And Anya's arguments weren't insane. It had been a difficult few months. Sex was indeed fun. They were all stressed, and some free stress-relief was not to be sneezed at ("Please don't sneeze at me. I am half-naked and highly vulnerable to germs."). They did spend almost all their time around adolescent girls. Those girls were indeed annoying. Some were going to be very attractive women, someday, but Willow was way too far past her own teenage years to go for them.
So, in fact, Anya kind of had a point. This was a viable offer.
And yet. "Why now?" Maybe Anya had a Santa fetish. That, Willow would find possible to resist, no trouble.
"Nog?" Anya topped up her own glass. Jiggling. Willow reached out wordlessly. Alcohol was good. It always helped with rational decision-making.
Anya took a swig of yellow festive goop. It made a little mustache on her upper lip. Willow did not find it cute. Not in the slightest.
"I miss Yule." Anya's words didn't fit with where Willow's mind had drifted. Not at all. She took a moment to process her way back into the actual conversation, instead of where the conversation might lead.
"Yule?"
"Yes. Yule was a highlight of all my previous human life. The jollity, the misrule, the greenery, the pig slaughter…. It was a magical time." Anya's eyes lit up with memory. "We burned… a lot of stuff." She was getting closer to Willow. "There was music, laughter," - a swig of nog - "All kinds of inappropriate yet enjoyable sexual activity." She bent down towards the seated Willow. Her mouth, nog-scented, hovered a mere inch from Willow's lips. "I really, really miss that."
Willow's hands, acting without instruction or permission, rose to cover the terrible peephole bra. She could feel her lips curling into an unexpected, unwise smile. "Well… if you really, really miss it…" She reached up, mouth just brushing against Anya's. "You know, it's important to keep our spirits up."
Anya nodded, whole body shimmying with the movement in a way Willow found exceedingly promising. "Yes. I already made that point."
Nog and the festive season hadn't magically transformed Anya into another person. But Willow was pretty much okay with that.
***
Title Since We've No Place To Go
Author Brutti ma buoni
Pairing Anya/Willow
Rating PG13
Words 730
Prompt for Snogged, in the festive round at femslash_minis, who wanted egg nog, "no stupid questions, only stupid people," a unique use for garland and Yule.
"In conclusion, I think it's important to keep our spirits up."
Anya looked perfectly serious. (Aside from the slutty Santa outfit and the tinsel garland twined around her waist. Obviously. Those were not even serious-adjacent touches.) Willow strove for an equal measure of gravity. It wasn't really fair to laugh at Anya for being Anya. Willow should be used to it by now.
"So… you think we should have sex?"
"Willow, either you have been attending to something else for the last five minutes, or that is a stupid question. And you know how I feel about stupid questions." Willow did. So did all the most recent potentials shipped into Sunnydale. They mostly heard the second half of the old adage ("…only stupid people."). They mostly did not take it very well.
"No, no I got that. It's just… isn’t this a little sudden?" Willow tried to look away from the peepholes in Anya's very red balconette 'Santa bra'. They seemed to be following her around the room even as she attempted avoidance. And really, who needed to even think the words Santa bra?
Anya looked a little peeved. "Sudden? But, we held hands and it got a little sexy. Only a few weeks ago. Surely you remember that. Also, you helped me when I wanted to be a demon again, years ago, and then again more recently when I foreswore my demon ways and- Face it, Rosenberg, we have a deep physical connection from way back." She stepped forward. Her bare nipples preceded her by two inches. Willow tried not to cower in the face of cleavage. "Also," added Anya, "I haven't had sex with a human woman since becoming a human woman, and that seems like a serious omission."
It was a good argument. Kind of. Willow hadn't had sex since Tara. That seemed like a necessary act of respect. Plus, with the evil rampage and the recovery, and the Coven being sort of monastic about sex, as well as the grieving process, she really hadn't been in that place lately. But at some point, she had to rejoin the sex-having part of society. And Anya's arguments weren't insane. It had been a difficult few months. Sex was indeed fun. They were all stressed, and some free stress-relief was not to be sneezed at ("Please don't sneeze at me. I am half-naked and highly vulnerable to germs."). They did spend almost all their time around adolescent girls. Those girls were indeed annoying. Some were going to be very attractive women, someday, but Willow was way too far past her own teenage years to go for them.
So, in fact, Anya kind of had a point. This was a viable offer.
And yet. "Why now?" Maybe Anya had a Santa fetish. That, Willow would find possible to resist, no trouble.
"Nog?" Anya topped up her own glass. Jiggling. Willow reached out wordlessly. Alcohol was good. It always helped with rational decision-making.
Anya took a swig of yellow festive goop. It made a little mustache on her upper lip. Willow did not find it cute. Not in the slightest.
"I miss Yule." Anya's words didn't fit with where Willow's mind had drifted. Not at all. She took a moment to process her way back into the actual conversation, instead of where the conversation might lead.
"Yule?"
"Yes. Yule was a highlight of all my previous human life. The jollity, the misrule, the greenery, the pig slaughter…. It was a magical time." Anya's eyes lit up with memory. "We burned… a lot of stuff." She was getting closer to Willow. "There was music, laughter," - a swig of nog - "All kinds of inappropriate yet enjoyable sexual activity." She bent down towards the seated Willow. Her mouth, nog-scented, hovered a mere inch from Willow's lips. "I really, really miss that."
Willow's hands, acting without instruction or permission, rose to cover the terrible peephole bra. She could feel her lips curling into an unexpected, unwise smile. "Well… if you really, really miss it…" She reached up, mouth just brushing against Anya's. "You know, it's important to keep our spirits up."
Anya nodded, whole body shimmying with the movement in a way Willow found exceedingly promising. "Yes. I already made that point."
Nog and the festive season hadn't magically transformed Anya into another person. But Willow was pretty much okay with that.
***