Friends With Benefits
by Jennifer-Oksana

She should probably feel bad about this. Harmony's not the brightest of girls, or even of dumb blonde girl demons, and what's more, Harmony's sweet in that way that ditzy popular girls have always been with Fred. Maybe this is why Fred doesn't feel bad. It's not like she's going to hurt Harmony, and sometimes thinking about all those blonde inflatable dolls who begged to be her best friend if she'd just help with an eentsy-weentsy math exam makes Fred wish she was a violent-type girl.

But she's not. She's the kind of girl who's moaning sex-type things to the blonde vamp between her legs, licking and teasing all of Fred's highly-sensitized sex parts. Pussy. Clit. Those kinds of things that make Fred blush to say the words but feel so sweet when Harmony's lapping at them with a rough tongue.

"Oh, yeah," Fred says, her heels kicking against Harmony's shoulderblades, and just the feel of all that blonde hair against her thighs makes her wetter. This is good. This is better than imagining what she's going to say on her first date with Knox, or if she's ever going to let Wes within two feet of her body without a taser nearby. She wants to forgive Wes, but she remembers how he followed her with that axe. She also remembers that Wesley's dead girlfriend is the kind of dead that might come for a visit and this is just not the kind of new boyfriend Fred finds good.

Harmony is good, despite being a soulless vampire, at being in Fred's personal space. Harmony is the kind of person who knows that chewing an Altoid before oral sex will heighten the sensation and thus racket all the pre-orgasmic tension to record levels. Fred is so so so high, soft blonde hair tickling her straining thighs, that tongue licking away so that she can hear the wet sounds along with all the moaning.

"Feels so so sooooooo so good," Fred can hear herself say, because it does feel good, better than almost any sex she can remember. Harmony's so pretty, the kind of pretty Fred has always wanted to have, blue-eyed blonde girl, big tits the way they're supposed to be made in Texas. Harmony would do well in Texas, but Fred's kind of jealous. She's getting the best head in Wolfram and Hart right now, and Fred has no intention of sharing, especially not with the way Harmony can just ghost her teeth over Fred's clit and

"Oh yes yes yes YES good god yes more YESSSSSSSS!" Fred screams, kicking against Harmony's bare back as she spasms, wails, dies a little death, and then she's just gasping for air as she sinks into the couch.

"You're really responsive for a repressed dyke," Harmony says as she surfaces, expecting (and getting, because Fred's using her, but she's not going to use her in the bad way. Fred's been used, and she knows how bad it sucks, and Harmony's so pretty that it's maybe not entirely a using. More like friends with benefits, where Fred just happens to benefit a little more) a kiss. "I mean, you just let go like a crazy woman. Like, once or twice when I experimented on the vampire scene, the girl is like, uh, um, and doesn't come. But you let loose, Fred."

Harmony's endless babble fests are sometimes annoying and sometimes education; usually they're a mix of both. Fred, who doesn't like being called a repressed dyke, because a) dyke is not a very nice word, and b) what about Wes and Knox, who remain possibilities, never mind that Knox missed three days last week with the flu and she totally hadn't thought about it until Harmony had brought it up over footsie and lemon drops, is glad to hear that she's fun to have sex with.

The part where she also likes this "lesbian sex" business so much better than penis/vagina intercourse and has, in fact, come more times in the last month than the rest of her life put together is secondary. Fred has no problem being bisexual, maybe even more gay than bisexual because girl-on-girl sex is very much more than nice. The next time she sees Willow Rosenberg...oh, hell, she's babbling in her head and there's a girl next to her to talk to who has nice, squeezable breasts, and isn't in Paris with her girlfriend right now.

"You're really good at doing things I like," Fred says with a smile, putting an arm around Harmony's waist. "I'm glad we're friends."

"Oh, I know," Harmony replies, snuggling up next to Fred and pulling the chenille blanket around. "Tomorrow you're totally going to let me take you to Sephora at Downtown Disney, right? You promised and you'll be so hot with new colors, that the guys will be drooling. Then we can eat at the Rainforest Cafe, and then we can come back here and have mad hot sex."

"Rainforest Cafe? Really?" Fred asks.

"Oh, it's so great!" Harmony raves. "And cute jungle animals! I want to buy a new stuffed animal there, a toucan, and you'll like it so much because there are so many cute kids and it's just FUN and...."

Fred laughs. Who but Harmony? When she says she is glad that they are friends, she means it. Other things might be exaggerations, but this is very much true.

"I'll have fun if you have fun," Fred promises sleepily, her hand all tangled up with Harmony's because it's late and they both get up so early to work the evil law firm gig that neither really likes. "That's one of the benefits of being your friend."

"Yay," Harmony murmurs, voice muzzy with sleep. "I'm glad I'm your friend."

They are friends, and Fred is glad, too. And then she is asleep.


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