A Kitchen, an Interlude and a Dinner Party
by Lara

SUMMARY: Something's burning in the kitchen. And it's not just the food.

RATING: FRT [SR] [AU]

SPOILERS: General Season 5.

DISCLAIMER: I only wish I were as successful as Joss Whedon. He and Mutant Enemy own this; I just write fanfic for fun while waiting for my own big break.

DISTRIBUTION: Permission granted to the usual haunts. If anyone else wants to archive it, please let me know.

FEEDBACK: Very much appreciated. Please e-mail lara@darling-moon.com. Flames, however, will be used to fuel the fire in Wesley’s next spell casting session.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yeah, the title is almost longer than the fic! This is all the fault of Regina (a.k.a. puppetoflove). She did a Wes/Fred manip while chatting with me, and of course, it had a story behind it begging to be told. As she said, she's my smutty W/F muse. And how.

The doorbell started ringing just as Fred had her hands full with a casserole dish and was opening the oven door with her foot.

Shoving the dish in, she slammed the door shut and hurried to answer. Whoever was there was really early. Way too early. She hadn’t even started making the salad or getting the appetizers ready.

It turned out to be Wesley standing outside on her doorstep, holding a bunch of flowers and a bottle of wine.

“The party doesn’t start for a couple hours yet!” she exclaimed.

“I wanted to see if maybe I could help,” he told her as he handed her the flowers. “When you said you were going to be cooking for all of us, I figured that you might need an extra hand or two.”

Fred smiled and stood aside to let him in. “That would be great.”

Inside, he looked around at the foyer with its arched ceiling and the staircase heading up to the second floor. “Your house is beautiful.”

“I got a great mortgage rate from the Wolfram and Hart real estate department.” She stopped for a moment, her lip curling thoughtfully. “Should I be worried about that? I didn’t actually see anything in the small print about the collateral being on my immortal soul or anything, but when it comes to Wolfram and Hart...”

“All mortgages ask for that, Fred. It’s a given.” He smiled at her, taking in the black dress she was wearing with her hair straightened and down. “And you look amazing.”

Blushing, she glanced down, shuffling the high-heel of her shoe a little bit. “Thanks. I don’t get much chance to really dress up anymore, and when I saw the dress...”

“It’s perfect.”

She raised her head and smiled at him. “Come on. You can take care of the salad while I get the appetizers in the oven. The lasagna is already cooking.”

Wesley followed her through the house into the large kitchen, which was outfitted with the latest appliances, all chrome and wood. The makings for the salad were out on one of the sideboards near the large sink. As Fred opened one of the cabinets to find a vase for the flowers, Wes put down the bottle of wine and went to wash his hands.

Once the flowers were properly arranged and set out on the table as its new centerpiece, the two of them worked for a few minutes in silence, Wesley shredding the lettuce into the bowl while Fred put the appetizers into the oven to warm. When he turned to ask her where her knives were, he found himself staring at her instead, watching as she reached up to pull down a basket for the bread rolls. Her dress clung to her hips, and her leg came up slightly, her foot pointed like a ballerina’s, reminding him of a fantasy he had once had.

When she set the basket down on the counter and bent over to pull a cloth napkin out of one of the drawers, he couldn’t help himself and found himself walking over to stand behind her. His hands came up to caress over her shoulders and down to the small of her back, causing Fred to straighten up with a gasp. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide, as he continued running his hands around to encircle her waist and draw her close.

“Wesley, what—?”

Before she could get her question out, his lips found hers. The unexpectedness of all this caused her to melt into his arms, her hand coming up to cup his neck, and when she let out a muffled moan, he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

After a few moments, they knocked into the edge of the countertop and broke apart for a moment, both of them staring at each other. Catching her breath, she could see the want burning in his eyes.

“Wesley, the food...” she tried to protest when he pulled her to him again.

“I’ll pay to order something if it burns,” he told her, lifting her up onto the countertop and leaning forward for another kiss while his hand crept up her leg underneath the skirt of her dress.

*****

“Peaches, do you need help setting up the table?” Lorne asked as he walked over to the bar attached to the kitchen to refill his drink.

Fred shook her head as she pulled the lasagna out of the oven and placed the dish in its serving basket. “It’s taken care of. Just have this to put out. I know you guys must be starving. Sorry about that...I just forgot the appetizers while trying to get everything else ready.”

Nodding, Lorne walked over to trash can to toss a used napkin away. When he opened it, he saw the charred remains of mini-quiches, artichoke balls and cheese-and-sausage balls. “Forgot, did you?”

“Yeah,” she answered, tugging a bit nervously on her dress before retrieving a spatula from its hanging place next to the stove.

Turning around, the anagogic leaned up against the cabinets and studied his friend for a moment. Despite the fact that she wasn’t singing, what had been going on earlier was written all over her quite clearly. “No time while Wesley was helping you? He said he got here early.”

“Nope. Just forgot.” Fred didn’t look back over her shoulder for fear that she would give herself away. What had happened had been... unexpected. Amazing. But she didn’t really want to let the others know that the appetizers had been burned because she and Wesley had been...well, definitely not paying attention.

Suddenly, she felt fingers in her hair and jumped, turning to find Lorne standing there, holding out a piece of parsley. “May want to talk to your shampoo maker there, buttercup.”

Fred felt her cheeks begin to burn as she took the parsley from him. “Ummm...thanks.”

“No problem.” Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. “I’m happy for you two, kiddo. It’s about time you got together.”

Grabbing his drink from where he had left it on the bar, Lorne headed out to the join the others. A moment later, Wesley entered, glancing back in the direction he had just come from.

“Is...uh...is everything okay in here?” he asked.

Taking a deep breath, Fred smiled. “Yeah.”

“Fred, about earlier...”

Crossing the kitchen, Fred wrapped her arms around his neck and rose up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Don’t apologize. I think it was worth the sacrifice of a few appetizers.”

He craned his head a bit to look down at her. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she answered with a decisive nod. “And maybe...maybe you could...stay...for awhile after everyone leaves later. I think we have some things to talk about, don’t you?”

“Most definitely.”

“Good. Now, you can help me by carrying that lasagna out to the dining room table.”

© January 2004

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