Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (tv), Angel (tv)
Summary/Teaser: The title and pairing aren't enough for you?
Notes: Fretting about a ficathon, Ari wrote, "Fred and Giles still not having sex." I wrote this.
Word Count: 141
Standard Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and co. own the characters, I'm just playing with them. I do, however, own this story, so don't steal it. Archive it anywhere; just ask first.
Feedback is always appreciated. Make me blush with praise or rip apart the story with criticism, or both.
They are in a library. Her hair is falling in her face. Rupert brushes it back, tucks it behind her ear. She smiles bashfully, trying to keep her gaze on the text in front of her. She looks so much like Willow. But she isn't. She's older, for one. And her hair blends into the dim light and the stacks of books, so unlike Willow's brightness. His hand is still on her ear. Without thinking, he strokes down her jawline. Now she turns to look at him. It is like he is falling towards her. His mouth is on hers, and she is kissing him back, and it doesn't matter who or where they are, their clothes are falling off, and they are digging in to each other, the rug smooth and scratchy against their skin, the must filling their nostrils.