Title: "Bizarre Love Triangle"
Author: Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Content: F/F, starring Buffy & Willow
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: "Surprise" and "Passion"


This story contains profanity, suggestive language, and scenes of sexual activity that may not be suitable for younger or more sensitive readers. I advise you to use discretion in choosing whether to read this story.


The characters in this story belong to Joss Whedon and the good folks over at "Mutant Enemy" Productions, not to me. I am merely borrowing them for the entertainment of myself and my online friends. No copyright infringement is intended, and no monetary compensation is desired for my use of these characters.

(C) March 19, 1998, Janet F. Caires-Lesgold, jfc@freeshell.org. Please send all comments and constructive criticism to this address.





"Every time I see you falling, I get down on my knees and pray..."

How long ago was that night? We were at the Bronze on a spring evening, and Buffy & I were dancing to New Order, because Xander was being a putz and refusing to dance. We showed him - girls can dance together, so there!

"...I'm waiting for that final moment..."

Buffy shook her hair and fixed me with a look that made me listen to the words as I sang along:

"...you say the words that I can't say..."

My feet stopped where they were on the floor as if I'd danced into a puddle of Superglue. I bit my lip and looked away, trying to swing my arms to make it look like a dance move. Did she notice that I couldn't look her in the eye for the rest of the evening?


Man, a lot has happened since then: Xander started doing... *something* with Cordelia, Giles started falling for Miss Calendar (with unforeseen results), Oz started making my life more... interesting, and Buffy fell hook, line, and sinker for Angel, who became something else. That was *so* hard to watch, mostly because she's my best friend, and I hate to see her hurt, but there was also something else, sort of half-envy, half-jealousy, and I couldn't do a damned thing about it.

Buffy's mom even noticed that something was bugging me. Luckily, she thought that I was just upset that Buffy had had her heart broken, and told me to "keep being her friend". Yeah, like I was going to stop doing that...

I mean, I've been crazy about Xander for as long as I can remember, even though he's never seemed to notice that I ever got beyond the age of eight. I'm still waiting to see where this Oz thing goes, because if I say to myself that I don't expect it to go anywhere, I would be lying. But then there's Buffy...

Most of the time it's fine: she's cuddly and wonderful, and it's cool just doing pal-stuff with her. If the words "I love Buffy" pop into my head then, they sound nice and safe and warm and comfortable. Then I'll catch myself watching her lips as she talks, and realize that I've not heard a word she's said for the past two minutes while I've been wondering how those beautiful lips would feel pressed to mine. Suddenly those three safe and warm and comfortable words become more dangerous than all the vampires and praying mantises and mummy girls put together...


So anyway, yesterday we were having a "girls-only-club" Saturday, which started out as Buffy coming over to review our chemistry for an exam on Monday. Mom brought us some lunch, then took off for a garden show or something, and Dad was doing temple stuff, so we had the house to ourselves. Chemistry sort of got tossed aside, and we sat around my room with the radio blaring, and me trying out some of Buffy's grey nail polish as she sniffed all of the perfume samples in my mom's fashion magazines.

Buffy held up a page bearing a photograph of some thick-as-a-stick model wearing a filmy dress cut down to Australia. "Hey, Willow! How would I look in this?" she asked.

I tried not to think about it very hard. "Not a good outfit for Sunnydale. Too much neck exposure."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she concurred. "Although I bet Angel would like it..."

"Oh... Do you think that's a good idea?"


"Picking out an outfit that Angel would like?"

"Sure," said Buffy, rolling over onto her stomach on my bed. "I prefer to think of it as bait. The next time I won't miss the opportunity to stake him properly."

"Oh, no. You're not bitter or anything. I mean, he did seduce you and abandon you, and he killed my favorite teacher..."

"Thanks for bringing it up."

"Oh, gosh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to... Hey, wait a minute! You started it!" I turned from the vanity table and looked at her accusingly.

She picked up my beanie frog from the nightstand and flung it at my head. I ducked just in time, as it bounced off the mirror and landed in a small beanie heap. "Chill, okay? I was giving you a hard time! Got you going, though, didn't I? Look, I'm sorry. Here. To make it up to you, I'll French braid your hair."

"Okay," I said, reluctantly, but grinning on the inside. "You owe me for throwing Mishie around." I settled into my chair and watched her reflection in the mirror in front of me as she started to brush my hair. "He still bugs you, doesn't he?"

"Who? Mishie?" she joked, picking up the frog and setting him upright on the table.

"No, silly: Angel!"

"Yeah, I guess so," she sighed, brushing a long stroke. "He's done terrible things, but somehow I still love him, well, the *old* him," she quickly corrected herself.

She concentrated on brushing, and I watched her in the mirror for a long silence, enjoying the feel of her hands in my hair. Finally I asked, "What was it like?"

"What?" she asked, shaking her head as if awakening suddenly. "What was *what* like?"

"You know," I began coyly, "sex."

She laughed in spite of herself. "Oh, *that*! It was hot and scary and warm and sticky, and, um, you know..."

"Well, no, I don't," I asserted.

"Oh, gee, I'm sorry!" Buffy blurted, seemingly flustered. "I didn't mean..."

"That's okay," I offered. "I guess I'm just into living vicariously..." I bit my tongue instead of explaining that I didn't just want to know what sex was like, but mostly what it was like to make love to *her*. She went on brushing, with me watching her face closely in the mirror, so closely, in fact, that I could not see whether what happened next was accidental or deliberate.

Her fingers slid along my neck and came to rest on my collarbone for a long moment. "Man, Willow, your pulse is racing! Are you okay?"

I don't know what well of strength I drew upon, but I reached up and grasped her wrist firmly, letting my fingers touch her pulse point, where her heart was sending signals as rapid as mine. I removed her hand from my shoulder, standing up from my seat and turning on my toe in one motion. My hands reached for her head, which I drew towards mine, and crushed her mouth against my lips for a breathless kiss. I broke away and answered her question, "Yes."

She blinked, surprised but smiling. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"I hate Angel. The lucky creep got to you first."

She looked me square in the eye. "And this means...?"

I took a deep breath and said as fast as I could, "I love you, Buffy. I'm sorry I could never tell you before, but it's true. I love you." I shut my mouth and wasn't sure for a minute if I would start to cry, especially if this revelation made her run screaming from the room.

Instead, she threw her arms around me and enveloped me in a bear hug. "Thank you, Willow! You don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say that!"

I know that my face probably registered puzzlement, but she couldn't see it. "You're welcome, I think..."

Buffy broke our embrace and led me to sit on the edge of the bed. "Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry if that's not the response you were expecting, but that's the most beautiful thing I've heard since Angel disappeared from bed that night. I was starting to think that nobody would ever love me again."

I fumbled for words. "I can't imagine that ever being true. I know Xander loves you more than he loves me, and I'm sure that some other guy will come along soon and sweep you off your feet..." I stopped, because I realized that I was babbling to cover my embarrassment.

"No, Will. I mean it. I'm flattered, and I'm genuinely moved that you got brave enough to tell me you love me. I had been wondering what had gotten into you..."

"You mean you knew?" I cried.

"I sort of suspected. Now, you understand that I may not mean it in exactly the same way, but I love you, too." She gave me another warm, comforting hug.

I tried to hide my disappointment, but I was having no luck. "So that means you love me like a friend, and I'll never get to make love to you like Angel did..."

"Now, I never said that," she interrupted, and kissed me full on the lips. She broke away and chuckled at my startled expression. "Of course, you'll find some parts of it a little tricky..."

"Wait! I didn't mean..." I began.

She placed her finger on my lips, shushing me. "I know what you meant. You want to make love to me, don't you?"

"More than anything, but if you don't want to, you don't have to," I said as best I could around her fingertip.

"Who said anything about not wanting to?" She began stroking my lips with her finger, and reached up to nibble at my earlobe. "Willow," she whispered softly, "I love you and care about you more than anyone else I know. What better way to show it than by helping you come? And, hey, if you feel like reciprocating, I doubt very much that I would be able to say no."

I started to protest. "But I don't think I know how... I mean, I've never even, uh, done it very well myself..."

"Ah," sighed Buffy, breaking away. "Somebody's fed you the lie that nice girls don't do it themselves, right? Trust me: Nice girls do it. *Really* nice girls do it to each other. Don't be nervous. Just follow my lead, and if you want me to stop at *any* time, please tell me. I couldn't live with myself if I found out that I'd done anything without your consent."

"You mean you've done this before?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Not really. Er, not with anyone who really mattered to me. Okay, so I just have a vivid imagination. *No*, not with anyone else."

"At all?"

"Nada," she reassured me. "I'll just do to you what I like to do to myself, and anything else that springs to mind. You promise you'll stop me if I start to go too far?"

"Promise," I promised, kissing her gently. Her lips parted beneath mine, as I'd imagined it many times before, and her tongue tickled my lips until I opened them as well. Her tongue tasted salty and warm in my mouth, and the pulse along it made my ears ring with excitement. I broke away to catch my breath, leaving three quick kisses on her lips as I did so.

She took that moment to tickle my ear with her tongue, tracing its contours with its tip, then darting and plunging into its depths as I gasped. She licked a line along the edge of my jawbone, and planted a firm kiss on my mouth once again, easing me back onto the bed. "How are we doing?" she asked.

"Okay," I answered, and started to unbutton my sweater.

"Oh, here! Allow me," she chimed in, finishing with my buttons. She lay my sweater open on the bed, and left a line of kisses from the bottom of my breastbone, gingerly avoiding my bra, up to my throat, where her lips and tongue danced in the hollow of my neck.

I raised my head, and she met me with another kiss. "Let me undo my bra for you." I shinnied out of my sweater sleeves, and sat up quickly to remove the binding undergarment. I lay back down, and she gazed at my breasts admiringly.

"Very nice. May I have a taste?"

"Please do." Her hands caressed them softly, and she took one nipple in her mouth, teasing it with her tongue, doing likewise on the other with her fingertips. I felt them become warmer and harder under her touch, and closed my eyes, drinking in the sensation. Her hair grazed my skin, the tickle almost making me jump. She noticed my reaction, and raised her head just enough to brush her hair back and forth across my erect nipples, making me whimper with delight.

I almost didn't notice that her hands had reached for my waist, but I sighed in relief when she finally unbuckled my belt and unzipped my jeans. I raised my ass for her to tug them off, leaving me naked but for my panties. Warm fingers stroked my stomach, and I was startled when a tongue invaded my belly button, leaving it slick with saliva. I felt her fingers touching my underpants between my legs, when she paused.

"You're getting wet, Willow. Do you really want me to keep going?"

"Don't stop now, please?" I begged.

I think I heard her smile. "Good." Her tongue returned to my nipples, then on to my mouth as her fingers crept under the elastic of my panties and into the soft hairs within. A finger discovered my clit, and I nearly shot off of the bed. Slowly she rubbed its tip, touching into the moist space behind it with every stroke. Her tongue caressed mine in a matching rhythm until I could barely stand the pleasure. The kiss ended and, just as abruptly, she ceased her masturbation.

I opened my eyes. "Why did you stop?"

"I don't want to break anything."

"You won't... oh," I murmured, realizing that she intended to keep my maidenhead intact.

"Are you about to come?"

"I think so."

"Can you wait a minute?"

"I don't know."

"May I go down on you?"

"Uh-huh," I grunted, closing my eyes. She drew my panties down and tossed them aside. There were fingers on my stomach again, and slowly a tongue began tasting my juices and muscles. I felt beads of perspiration form on my upper lip and along my breastbone, and my breath caught in my throat. The feel of her breath on my moist sex was surprisingly erotic all by itself, but the steady lapping thrilled me and hypnotized me. I heard a low moan that sounded like the growl of a wild animal, and I suddenly realized that I had been its source. I groaned as a fingertip was tucked neatly into the opening of my ass, and it joined the rhythm of the tongue on my clit and the finger in my navel. I felt blood rushing in my ears, and cried out loud in a torrent of heat and pressure and release.

I shuddered as my breath calmed to a normal speed and volume. Buffy gently finished with my nether regions, then crawled up to join me on the bed. She carefully drew my head onto her shoulder and wrapped me in her arms as my heartbeat slowed. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, God! That was intense!" I sighed, nestling against her body. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, sweetie. I take it you liked it, then?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" I sputtered. "It was wonderful! You're sure you've never done that with anybody else?"

"Sure as shooting. I won't say that I hadn't thought about what I'd want a woman to do to me if I had the chance. I mean, I am wired the same way. Why wouldn't I be able to guess what might feel good to you?"

"One more question, Buffy: Why me?"

"Because you asked," she answered, kissing me once more. "I couldn't say no after you risked rejection and ridicule by confessing your feelings for me. We all need love and affection, and your declaration made me realize that I couldn't pass up the chance to share something that special with my best friend in the whole world when she asked me. I was honored to have the opportunity to make someone so important to me happy for a change, rather than the old routine of saving the world yet again."

By then I had recovered enough to recall the other half of our bargain. "Do you want me to take care of you now?"

"Take care of me how?"

I could tell she was being obtuse on purpose. "*You* know: do to you what you did to me?"

"Fuck me? Sure, go nuts..."

I raised my head, puzzled again. "Don't you need a penis to fuck?"

"Maybe technically," she suggested, "but if you do it right, the result is the same. Come on; do whatever you want to me. I'll help if you get stuck. Besides, Will, isn't that what you really wanted all along?"

I grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess so."

"So maybe you needed an example to work from. Here - show me what you learned in school today, my dear..."

I took Buffy's head in my hands and kissed her firmly and deeply. She was so beautiful, with her eyes shining and her hair slightly askew! I began to tug her tank top up, and she obligingly raised her arms over her head so that I could remove it. I marveled at her body encased in its lacy black bra, running my fingers cautiously over the seams of the fabric. The clasp was in the front, so I undid it and opened it, revealing her perfect breasts. I took one in each hand and kneaded them, which made her sigh pleasantly. I lay on top of her, kissing her and allowing my naked breasts to flatten against hers, which felt naughty and delicious. With one hand, I reached beneath her short skirt and rubbed the crotch of her tights, while her hips tipped her pelvis more firmly against my hand. She unbuttoned something at her waist, and her skirt slid down her hips, so I pulled it off over her feet. I tucked my arm around her shoulders and kissed her fervently, rolling onto my side next to her and experimentally reaching inside her tights and panties to find her hot, wet center. She turned her head away from my mouth to moan with delight and anticipation, so I teased her ear with my tongue.

"Is it okay if I don't go down on you?" I paused to ask. "I don't think I'm brave enough for that."

She murmured, "Sure. Just use your fingers. It'll be just fine... Somebody already, uh, broke down the door - come on in."

I tried to tickle her clit, but my wrist was bound too tightly by the lengths of elastic at her waist. She sensed my struggle, and hooked her thumbs over the tops of her tights and panties, peeling them from her soft bottom like she was unwrapping a banana. As she kicked the nylon and cotton free, I cupped one naked cheek in the hand that was not encircled in flesh and fluids. I bent my head to suckle at her nearest nipple, and curled two fingers into her womanhood, keeping a steady stroke on her clit with my thumb.

Her breath became rough and heavy, and her vocalizations rose in key between each gasp. Her back arched, and my fingers danced within her engorged tissues. I raised my head to watch her face as she approached orgasm, but was apprehensive when I noticed that her features were contorted with sorrow. Suddenly, she shouted out, "Oh, God! My Angel!" and dissolved into wracking sobs as her muscles tightened around my knuckles. I watched helplessly as tears trickled from the corners of her clamped-shut eyes and back into her hair while she strained her head back into the mattress.

The spasms in her vagina soon began to slow, and I stroked her clit tenderly as her hold on my hand loosened. Her breathing softened, and her voice quieted to tiny whimpers. As soon as I could remove my fingers from her sex, I stretched up to take her into my arms and cuddle her against my body.

When it sounded like she might be able to speak again, I asked, "Buffy, are you okay?"

She bit her lip and inhaled deeply, exhaling in a combined sigh and groan. "Yeah," she replied at last, "I'm fine." Her eyes fluttered open, and she leaned up to kiss me once she focused on my worried face.

"I wasn't sure there, when you started to cry..."

She gave me a slightly embarrassed smile. "Oh, don't mind me. You're a screamer. I'm a crier. It happens."

"You mean you came?"

"Oh, yeah," she nodded, blinking slowly. "I've noticed that before. Even if it's a good one, I'll still cry."

I tried to sort this out in my head. "Did you cry when you were with Angel?"

"Yup. Burst into tears right in his arms. I'm not sure if it freaked him out, or if he enjoyed it, depending on when he..."

"Yeah," I began, cutting her off. "I could understand if it freaked him out, though. Scared the hell out of me, that's for sure! I thought I'd done something wrong!"

"Oh, God, Willow, I'm sorry!" she wailed, throwing her arms around me and clinging to me tightly. "You did just fine. It felt really good. I've been under a lot of stress lately, and the release does weird things to me. I apologize if I frightened you!"

"That's okay, if you're okay. I just feel bad: here I just wanted to make you happy, and I ended up making you cry!"

"But I *am* happy, honey! My body just has strange ways of showing it, that's all!"

I wiped away a tear of my own. "I was afraid I had hurt you. I would never want to hurt you. I love you!"

She kissed me once more and squeezed me in a hug. "I know you do, sweetie. I love you, too, and know that you could never hurt me at all. And believe me, I've been hurt in my life!"

"Oh... You mean Angel, don't you?"

"Bingo!" she exclaimed, stretching to sit upright. "It's almost like he watches every move I make; like he's with me every moment..."

"You mean like right now?" I shrieked, sitting up and looking around the room.

"Don't worry. He's not really here." She began untangling her panties from her tights. "Although if he had been watching, I wonder if he would have enjoyed the show!"

"Don't say that! This was just for us. I don't want to share this afternoon with anybody!"

"What's the matter?" Buffy asked, beginning to scramble back into her clothes. "Are you ashamed of me? Or of yourself?"

"No, not ashamed," I muttered as I hunted around for my other sock. "But what does this make us?"

"You don't want me to say "lesbians", do you?" She smiled to erase my look of concern. "Labels are for pickle jars. We are what we are. Look: it's nobody else's business what we call ourselves. Maybe we *are* lesbians. Maybe we're bisexual. Maybe we're lovers, or maybe just fuckbuddies. I think we're just best girlfriends who have taken it a little further than most. I say, let 'em wonder... It'll just be our little secret. Sometime, when we're out in public, I'll look at you, you'll look at me, and we'll remember and smile, and nobody else will notice. Who knows? Maybe someday we'll even do it again..."

"I'd like that, but it's okay even if we don't. Today was so special, I don't think I will ever forget it. Just remember I love you, and I always will."

Now dressed, Buffy gave me a big hug and a little kiss. "I think I can handle that. Thank you for a marvelous afternoon. Your gift means more to me than you can possibly imagine."

"What gift?"

"Why, yourself, honey! Thank you for being such a good friend. In my own warped little way, I love you, too, Willow."


After she left, I tried to think if I had learned anything from the experience. Mostly that Buffy was a more precious friend than I'd ever dreamed, but also that I'd better work on my surreptitious glance. Maybe I came away from the encounter with a few pointers for future reference, too. Like, when the time is right, I'd better make sure to have earplugs for Oz...


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