Fic: Strawberries (Willow/Fred)
May. 23rd, 2012 12:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beer_good_foamyTitle: Strawberries
Author:beer_good_foamy
Fandom: Angel, mid-season 5
Word count: ~1100
Pairing: Willow/Fred
Rating: PG13
Summary: Willow comes to LA for a job interview. Or maybe just dinner. But you know how things are never simple...? Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
femslash_minis' remix round, remix of "Home Coming" by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aaronlisa.
Strawberries
5.03 PM
It's weird how only California has proper Mexican food. Some Mom-shaped part of Willow immediately wanted to correct that, what with misappropriation of other cultures and all, but it's hard to argue with tastebuds once they get used to something. Kind of like that pizza she had in Rome; not that it wasn't yummy, but it just wasn't... pizza. And after quitting Brazilian food in the worst way and spending a few weeks living off fish & chips and weird little triangle-shaped sandwiches that somehow taste like three different kinds of nothing at once and Giles trying to get her to have strawberry tart which no thank you still sounds like an alley in Sunnydale... well, the taco stand a block from the Hyperion was just the thing.
She ate the way she wouldn't if this were an actual real proper date, because obviously it wasn't, so she could be a pig if she wanted to. Not that she was a match for Fred, of course; how the heck could she fit that much food in that tiny little body? Not that Willow was thinking of Fred's body. Or well, she might have if she'd thought Fred would be into... OK, focus, Rosenberg. As always, there were bigger things at stake.
10.14 AM
"Willow! Hi!" Fred came bounding into the lobby of Wolfram & Hart, wrapping her in a tight hug. "So glad you could make it, let me show you around."
Willow's first day (not that she's promised to sign up for anything more than that, obviously, this was strictly recon, probably) at Wolfram & Hart turned out to be a blur of whatchabeenupto and checkoutthislab and dontpissoffthedemonsinaccounting and thatsKnoxhesworkingonsomethingorother and heylookeverybookeverwritteninanydimension and theyusedtosacrificegoatshere and yourecutewhenyougeekout... OK, that last one was never actually said, but still. It seemed half the day had gone by before they even had a chance to stop for coffee.
3.14 PM
"Sorry about the coffee," Fred said as she put a piping hot cup in front of Willow. "For some reason, you can only get black coffee here. We're trying to change that, but it's not exactly a priority. So, whaddyathink about joining us? I know you're probably super busy with the Slayer stuff, but we're doing good work here, and did I say something wrong?"
"What? No, it's just... kinda Slayered out lately. Plus, y'know, it's not every day someone asks you to join Evil Evil Evil Inc. Not that you're - "
"Sure, it used to be." Fred nodded. "Did I mention that we found a really nice farm upstate for the goats? But yeah, this is still Wolfram & Hart. Which is why we need as many good people as we can get."
"And you're sure you want me?"
"Well... yeah." Fred shot her a 'duh' look which Willow refused to not find cute. "IT genius who was offered to write her own job description at Microsoft before she became a powerful witch and saved the world and learned how to pun in Latin? Any reason we wouldn't want you?"
Willow laughed nervously. "Remind me to bold the black-magic-and-apocalypses bit on my resumé."
"But you got better, right? And my dad always says: You wanna build a safe prison, ask someone who broke out of one."
Willow made the most non-committal shrug she could. She remembered breaking into a prison once. That had seemed way too easy. Kind of like working for a formerly evil company that promised her anything she wanted.
"Tell you what," Fred suddenly said, "I wanna show you something. Let's go back to the hotel."
Willow checked her watch. "You get off at... I mean, you can leave at 3.30?"
"Sure. It's OK, Knox will cover for me. You know, I think he has a crush on me. Not really my type, though."
4.17 PM
"You stayed in here for three months?"
"Yeah." Fred stuck her hands in her back pockets with an embarrassed grin.
"Well..." Willow looked around the old Hyperion hotel room. "It is pretty nice. I wouldn't mind staying in your room for a while... I-I mean, if I was you, not as in - "
If Fred noticed Willow blushing and trying to backpedal, she didn't let on. "Still, y'know, three months. I got pretty crazy for a while after I came back from Pylea. We had to clean it up a bit. See?" She reached out and took Willow's hand, placing it on the wall.
At first, Willow was only aware of Fred's hand on hers, soft and warm and trusting and... Then she felt it; there was something underneath the thin coat of paint on the wall - scrawls, doodles, figures, formulas, all in a mad chaotic blackeyed screaming let-me-out-of-hell mess that felt way too close to Things One Must Keep Under Control At All Times. She yanked her hand back as if the wall had burned her. "Yikes."
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," Fred said. "There's a lotta ghosts in this place." Then her face lit up. "You know what we need?"
5.16 PM
Fred was still singing the deserved praise of Mexican food. "Ain't it just like you died and went to taco heaven? Here, try this one."
Willow opened her mouth to say something - possibly about the likelyhood of there being an actual taco heaven - but then Fred popped some sort of deep fried chili in her mouth that was crunchy and delicious and sweet with a center of WOAH HOLY QUETZALCOATL EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE.
"D'you like it?"
Willow looked up through tears, gasping for breath between waves of habanero, and could just about make out enough of Fred's face to force a smile in return and gasp "Hot!"
"Which is why need dessert. Just a sec!" Before Willow had quite managed to get her breath back, Fred returned with two tubs of frozen yoghurt. "You want chocolate or strawberry?"
Willow picked chocolate. And she sat there eating her yoghurt, listening to Fred talking about nothing special, while people walked by without a single one of them (well, OK, maybe a couple, this was LA after all) being scared of saying the wrong thing to her or pissing her off or giving her that split-second look of fear (or worse, awe) and... she used to like strawberries. Even when they weren't smeared all over Fred's mouth. Yeah, redemption and control and good and evil and working things through et cetera, but goddamnit, she should be allowed to have strawberries without worrying what it might do.
She realised she was staring when Fred gave her one of those odd smiles she'd been giving her all day and asked, "Do you want a taste?"
And then there was that scary moment when you kiss someone without knowing if they'll kiss you back but you have to take a chance that you know what you're doing. And that unreal moment when it turns out you did and they grab you and pull you closer. And Willow was kissing Fred in the evening sunlight, not worrying about chocolate strawberry chili stains on her clothes, and whatever came tomorrow would simply have to wait its turn to be handled because woah.
Author:
beer_good_foamyFandom: Angel, mid-season 5
Word count: ~1100
Pairing: Willow/Fred
Rating: PG13
Summary: Willow comes to LA for a job interview. Or maybe just dinner. But you know how things are never simple...? Written for
femslash_minis' remix round, remix of "Home Coming" by aaronlisa.Strawberries
5.03 PM
It's weird how only California has proper Mexican food. Some Mom-shaped part of Willow immediately wanted to correct that, what with misappropriation of other cultures and all, but it's hard to argue with tastebuds once they get used to something. Kind of like that pizza she had in Rome; not that it wasn't yummy, but it just wasn't... pizza. And after quitting Brazilian food in the worst way and spending a few weeks living off fish & chips and weird little triangle-shaped sandwiches that somehow taste like three different kinds of nothing at once and Giles trying to get her to have strawberry tart which no thank you still sounds like an alley in Sunnydale... well, the taco stand a block from the Hyperion was just the thing.
She ate the way she wouldn't if this were an actual real proper date, because obviously it wasn't, so she could be a pig if she wanted to. Not that she was a match for Fred, of course; how the heck could she fit that much food in that tiny little body? Not that Willow was thinking of Fred's body. Or well, she might have if she'd thought Fred would be into... OK, focus, Rosenberg. As always, there were bigger things at stake.
10.14 AM
"Willow! Hi!" Fred came bounding into the lobby of Wolfram & Hart, wrapping her in a tight hug. "So glad you could make it, let me show you around."
Willow's first day (not that she's promised to sign up for anything more than that, obviously, this was strictly recon, probably) at Wolfram & Hart turned out to be a blur of whatchabeenupto and checkoutthislab and dontpissoffthedemonsinaccounting and thatsKnoxhesworkingonsomethingorother and heylookeverybookeverwritteninanydimension and theyusedtosacrificegoatshere and yourecutewhenyougeekout... OK, that last one was never actually said, but still. It seemed half the day had gone by before they even had a chance to stop for coffee.
3.14 PM
"Sorry about the coffee," Fred said as she put a piping hot cup in front of Willow. "For some reason, you can only get black coffee here. We're trying to change that, but it's not exactly a priority. So, whaddyathink about joining us? I know you're probably super busy with the Slayer stuff, but we're doing good work here, and did I say something wrong?"
"What? No, it's just... kinda Slayered out lately. Plus, y'know, it's not every day someone asks you to join Evil Evil Evil Inc. Not that you're - "
"Sure, it used to be." Fred nodded. "Did I mention that we found a really nice farm upstate for the goats? But yeah, this is still Wolfram & Hart. Which is why we need as many good people as we can get."
"And you're sure you want me?"
"Well... yeah." Fred shot her a 'duh' look which Willow refused to not find cute. "IT genius who was offered to write her own job description at Microsoft before she became a powerful witch and saved the world and learned how to pun in Latin? Any reason we wouldn't want you?"
Willow laughed nervously. "Remind me to bold the black-magic-and-apocalypses bit on my resumé."
"But you got better, right? And my dad always says: You wanna build a safe prison, ask someone who broke out of one."
Willow made the most non-committal shrug she could. She remembered breaking into a prison once. That had seemed way too easy. Kind of like working for a formerly evil company that promised her anything she wanted.
"Tell you what," Fred suddenly said, "I wanna show you something. Let's go back to the hotel."
Willow checked her watch. "You get off at... I mean, you can leave at 3.30?"
"Sure. It's OK, Knox will cover for me. You know, I think he has a crush on me. Not really my type, though."
4.17 PM
"You stayed in here for three months?"
"Yeah." Fred stuck her hands in her back pockets with an embarrassed grin.
"Well..." Willow looked around the old Hyperion hotel room. "It is pretty nice. I wouldn't mind staying in your room for a while... I-I mean, if I was you, not as in - "
If Fred noticed Willow blushing and trying to backpedal, she didn't let on. "Still, y'know, three months. I got pretty crazy for a while after I came back from Pylea. We had to clean it up a bit. See?" She reached out and took Willow's hand, placing it on the wall.
At first, Willow was only aware of Fred's hand on hers, soft and warm and trusting and... Then she felt it; there was something underneath the thin coat of paint on the wall - scrawls, doodles, figures, formulas, all in a mad chaotic blackeyed screaming let-me-out-of-hell mess that felt way too close to Things One Must Keep Under Control At All Times. She yanked her hand back as if the wall had burned her. "Yikes."
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," Fred said. "There's a lotta ghosts in this place." Then her face lit up. "You know what we need?"
5.16 PM
Fred was still singing the deserved praise of Mexican food. "Ain't it just like you died and went to taco heaven? Here, try this one."
Willow opened her mouth to say something - possibly about the likelyhood of there being an actual taco heaven - but then Fred popped some sort of deep fried chili in her mouth that was crunchy and delicious and sweet with a center of WOAH HOLY QUETZALCOATL EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE.
"D'you like it?"
Willow looked up through tears, gasping for breath between waves of habanero, and could just about make out enough of Fred's face to force a smile in return and gasp "Hot!"
"Which is why need dessert. Just a sec!" Before Willow had quite managed to get her breath back, Fred returned with two tubs of frozen yoghurt. "You want chocolate or strawberry?"
Willow picked chocolate. And she sat there eating her yoghurt, listening to Fred talking about nothing special, while people walked by without a single one of them (well, OK, maybe a couple, this was LA after all) being scared of saying the wrong thing to her or pissing her off or giving her that split-second look of fear (or worse, awe) and... she used to like strawberries. Even when they weren't smeared all over Fred's mouth. Yeah, redemption and control and good and evil and working things through et cetera, but goddamnit, she should be allowed to have strawberries without worrying what it might do.
She realised she was staring when Fred gave her one of those odd smiles she'd been giving her all day and asked, "Do you want a taste?"
And then there was that scary moment when you kiss someone without knowing if they'll kiss you back but you have to take a chance that you know what you're doing. And that unreal moment when it turns out you did and they grab you and pull you closer. And Willow was kissing Fred in the evening sunlight, not worrying about chocolate strawberry chili stains on her clothes, and whatever came tomorrow would simply have to wait its turn to be handled because woah.
