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Everything Will Be Alright Tomorrow

Title: Everything Will Be Alright Tomorrow
Words: ~400
Characters: Anya, Willow, Tara, Doyle, Cordelia, Fred, Wesley
Pairings: W/T, X/A, C/D, F/W
Rating: PG

The world will keep on turning…

Doyle looks in the window and sees Cordelia messing with some papers in the office. He reaches for the doorknob and stops. Okay. Going over this one more time. He wishes he had some whiskey on him right now, some liquid courage. He’d strike up casual conversation; maybe fill her in on the erased day fiasco, nice and light. Then segue into secrets, his secret, and if she took that well, he’d move on to asking her out for dinner. He takes a breath and reaches for the doorknob. He really wishes he had some whiskey on him right now.

It’ll all be there come morning…

Anya tosses and turns in her bed. She tries pulling the covers over her head, that doesn’t work. She tries going to the kitchen and getting a warm glass of milk. No. Still not helping. It sucks that the bride-to-be doesn’t get to have sex with the groom-to-be the night before the wedding. Not sitting, not standing up, not lying down. Worst of all he wasn’t going to be there when she wakes up tomorrow. What kind of lame society came up with those rules? She admires her ring in the kitchen light before she turns out the light. 

So tonight, let the sun fall down all around you…

“Can you just be kissing me now?”
It all happens in slow motion. The look of confusion on Willow’s face bursts into the widest smile Tara’d ever seen. They meet- arms, bodies, lips, in a kiss so deep they lose themselves in each other, nothing can keep them apart anymore. It isn’t until Tara remembers the need for oxygen and pulls away gasping that they realize they’ve fallen to the floor and burst out in strained, breathless giggles.
“Bed?” Tara asks in a hushed voice as she strokes a lock of Willow’s hair.
“Bed sounds good.” Willow confirms with a smile.

 Let the night surround you in a blanket of starlight, whisper you a lullaby…

Wesley pulled his car to a stop in front of Fred’s apartment and put it into park, he looked over at the beautiful woman in the passenger’s seat, noting the way that the moonlight danced on her hair.
“Thanks, Wes.” She says softly and leans over, planting a kiss on his lips.
“Good night,” he smiles.
“Well morning, actually.” Fred says, eyeing the clock, which proclaims the time is 2 A.M. “So, I’ll be seeing you at work in… oh… 5 hours.”
“I can’t wait.” He says, staying in the car, like a perfect gentleman, watching until she’s safe inside.