Funnier in Latin
Title: Dessert, Pizza, and Margaritas: A Little Passed the Frozen Food Aisle
Summary: Fred prepares dinner for Willow and thinks about food and drink.
Disclaimer: Characters and situations belong to ME, Joss Whedon, and the WB. This story is not written for profit.
Archive: Sliver of Ice
On Wednesdays, Fred sneaks home to make dinner. She's never been much of a cook and survived for a long time on a microwave, toaster oven, and the frozen food aisle. But she's found an addiction to the Iron Chef and cooking since moving in with Willow.
Food, she's found, is sexy. Like fondue dripping down forks and licked off fingers. Who knew cheese could be so incredibly hot.
Deserts will always be the most sensuous, and Fred has Giles ship her chocolate from England for her special nights. There's truffles that leave a tinge of amaretto in her mouth and the light feel of a cream puff against her lips. She loves watching Willow pull the straw from her root beer float and suck the ice cream from the bottom.
Pasta remains the most romantic main meal, even if two dogs did slurp spaghetti in The Lady and the Tramp. Fred thinks of their trip to Italy to visit Buffy and the days they took the train to Florence and walked in the midnight rain around the Duomo, kissing in front of the golden doors. But of all Italian foods, Fred still prefers pizza.
For drinks, Fred's always found margaritas tastier than wine. Willow's cheeks turn rosy when she drinks tequila, becoming somehow even more kissable. And Fred still wants to go down to Mexico and only dance on the table in their room.
Fred lights the white candles on their table as she hears Willow's car pull up.