Summary: Buffy meets her on-line sweetheart. Will her poor luck with love finally change?

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: They aren’t mine, damn it.

Spoilers: Absolutely none. Only a few vague references to canon events. Does not follow, in any way, the S8 comic. Oh…I did make one rather large alteration to S6.

A/N: Happy Birthday, T. I hope you get the gift of your dreams

A/N2: Thanks to Lilly for the beta.

Buffy heard the message chime as she put dinner into the microwave. Yes! She was on. It took way too long to set the timer, and Buffy sprinted across the room, hoping she hadn’t left.

WickedWitch: Hey, sexy. You home?

RomanAnne: For you? Always.

Buffy grinned as she typed. It was amazing how good she felt just seeing that name and reading the words on the screen. She didn’t wait for a response. Typing furiously, Buffy asked the one question that had been on her mind all day.

RomanAnne: Did…did you, uh, get the plane tickets this morning?

Her fingers faltered for a second, and Buffy spent precious seconds deleting the gibberish in the Instant Messaging window.

RomanAnne: I mean, I don’t want to push. You can change your mind, if you want. I just…

Taking a deep breath and cursing the blush heating her cheeks, Buffy forced herself to go on.

RomanAnne: I’ve just really been looking forward to showing you Rome.

Wicked Witch: Buffy!

Buffy could almost hear the fond exasperation in Rose’s voice.

RomanAnne: Sorry *blush* I’m a little nervous, I guess. This is my first ever ‘online’ date.

The microwave beeped, and Buffy reluctantly left the computer to grab her dinner. Carefully balancing the hot plastic tray and a drink, she hurried to back to the couch. The food landed on the TV tray, and the computer returned to her lap as she sat down.

Eating lost its importance when she looked at the screen. There was no new message.

RomanAnne: Rose? Did I lose you?

It was a long shot. They rarely had trouble with the connection. Buffy’s stomach clenched. She hated this. She hadn’t felt this unsure of herself since the infamous night with Angel.

The fork in her hand bent under the sudden pressure that thought caused. This wasn’t going to end up like that.

WickedWitch: No. I’m here. *sigh* I’ve been thinking about what you said. About being nervous. I am, too, you know. I’ve never even been out of the States, and I’m going to get on a plane in a few hours to meet someone I’ve only talked to on a computer. What if you don’t like the way I look?

It was an old argument. Eating her dinner absently, Buffy set out to allay Rose’s fears. The chat went on for hours before Buffy felt confident that the other woman wouldn’t put a bag over her head when she arrived.

RomanAnne: Now that your little freak out is over, where am I taking you once you get here? I’m more than willing to play tour guide *bounces on toes* Museums? A train trip to Venice? Ohhh *eyes wide* How about the Leaning Tower of Pisa?

As Buffy waited for the answer, the phone rang. She checked the caller ID before answering. Damn. It was Willow. She couldn’t ignore it; Willow would just keep calling until she answered.

“Hey, Will,” Buffy announced, not even pretending to be enthused.

A stilted silence in her ear let Buffy know her surly tone of voice wasn’t appreciated. “Am I interrupting something?” Willow asked stiffly.

The message chime sounded. “Of course not. You know I don’t have a life,” Buffy murmured as she bent closer to the computer.

WickedWitch: No. No Tower. That’s the most overrated tourist trap on the planet. *hangs head and blushes* Sorry. I’ve been doing a lot of reading on Italy.

“Buffy? Hey, are you there?” Willow’s voice snapped Buffy back to the phone call.

Tearing her eyes away from the half-read message, Buffy concentrated on appeasing her increasingly irritated best friend. “Right here, Wills. Why? Can’t you hear me now?” she teased.

Giggling, Willow apologized. “Sorry. It got really quiet on your end and I thought I’d lost you.” Road noise in the background made Buffy glad she had Slayer hearing. “Anyway, I’m on my way home. Tara called to say she had dinner ready and I needed to be there yesterday. Gosh, she can get so butch sometimes.”

“You keep saying that, but I’ve never seen pictures.” Buffy had to grin at the thought of Butch Tara in flannel and hiking boots. “I won’t believe it until I have proof.”

“Come on, Buffy,” Willow whined. “Tara hates pictures. She says they make her look fat. I’d have to tie her down and gag her to take one.”

The computer chimed again.

WickedWitch: Did my itinerary scare you off? ;)

“Hey, what’s that noise? It sounded like you got an email or something.” Willow hummed as she drove. “Do you have a new guy you haven’t told me about?”

Wincing at the near accuracy of that, Buffy tried to type and talk at the same time. “No.”

RomanAnne: Sorry. An old friend called and I didn’t want to piss her off by not answering.

“No guy, Will,” she continued out loud. “Looks like some company wants me to hand over my bank information so they can deposit my lottery winnings.” As the lie popped out, Buffy bit her lip. Willow was her best friend. She should be telling her all about Rose and their planned meeting.

A series of clanks and the roar of an engine announced Willow pulling into her garage. “Look, Buffy. I just got home. Don’t spend all that money in one place.” She giggled and a car door opened and closed. “In fact, just send me the money and I’ll keep it safe.”

WickedWitch: *mock scowls* An old friend? Is this someone I should be jealous of? Huh? *taps foot, waiting*

Buffy grinned and flexed her fingers over the keyboard. Rose should know by now not to tease like that. “Oh, don’t worry, Wills. I’m over my shoe and bargain hunting days. Maybe I’ll use it to buy a house in the country and become a farmer.”

Giggles exploded in her ear.

RomanAnne: Well, I always thought she was pretty hot. When I first met her, she had this really tight shirt on…It showed off all the good parts.

Buffy neglected to mention the overalls that had completed the outfit.

“Hey, I’ve got to go. Tara’s at the top of the stairs in nothing but an apron.” Willow’s voice sounded a little dazed.

Rolling her eyes, Buffy commented, “Pictures, Will. You are so sending me pictures.” She squinted and imagined that homecoming…It was hard. The last time she’d seen Tara, the other girl had still been in her oversized shirts and tie-dyed, flowing skirts. “Tell Tara I said hi.”

The call ended as another message appeared in the chat window.

WickedWitch: The good parts? Buffy Summers! *crosses arms and glares* Were you staring at her breasts?

RomanAnne: Well *looks everywhere but at the computer* Maaaaybe once or twice.

WickedWitch: What’s her name? I’m going to have to explain to the hot old friend that you are taken now. I don’t share. *giggles* I’ve got this image of you sneaking peeks at this girl in class or the locker room. Bad Buffy.

The image Rose had was accurate. Buffy yawned and looked at the clock. Damn. How had it gotten so late? With a sigh, she started to type.

RomanAnne: Bad Buffy is getting to be Sleepy Buffy. I’d really hoped to be up until you left for the airport. Will you tuck me in?

She hopped up and grabbed the remains of her mostly uneaten dinner and hurried into the kitchen. The computer chimed as she threw away the plastic tray and shoved the silverware into the dishwasher. Turning off the few lights, Buffy went back to the living room.

WickedWitch: Of course, Buffy. *kisses Buffy’s forehead and pulls the sheets up to her chin* Good night, sweetie. And…just remember. I’ll be doing this in person tomorrow.

Tears burned Buffy’s eyes, and one slipped down her cheek as she typed.

RomanAnne: I can’t wait for that, Rose. Be careful and have a safe trip. I’ll be waiting for you at the Caffe della Pace at one o’clock.

She logged off and closed the laptop. Tomorrow Rose would be here. Tomorrow. Buffy curled up on the couch and dragged an old afghan over her legs. Until then, she’d just sleep here. The bed was for her and Rose.

***

The buzz of her cell phone interrupted Buffy’s rapt study of the clock on the wall. Sparing a glance at the tiny display, she planned on ignoring whoever it was. Her intentions changed the second she saw the name and the notice of a new text message.

Ripping the phone open, Buffy read the message and prayed.

WickedWitch@hotmail.com: Buffy. The trip took more out of me than I thought. Can we meet at the hotel instead of the caffe? I know you had big plans for our first day together, but… Let me know when you can. *kiss*

It took a few minutes for Buffy’s heart to slow down. Slumping onto a kitchen chair, she thumb-typed a shaky reply.

2162417566@messaging.sprintpcs.com: C U at the hotel. LY

Going back to her clock watching, Buffy did some mental math. Rose had just landed. They were supposed meet in an hour and a half. Ninety minutes to sit and stare at the clock.

She couldn’t do it. Buffy jumped out of the chair and paced the apartment. She couldn’t stay here and wait.

The phone buzzed again.

Diving across the room, she grabbed the phone and flipped it open. There was no message this time, though.

“Buffy? Hello?” Tara’s voice filtered through the phone and into the room, overshadowed by a loud roar and voices in the background.

Putting the phone to her ear, Buffy answered, “Hey. Sorry about that. How are you? And…where are you? Wow. My poor Slayer ears.” She glanced at the clock. Two minutes had gone by.

“Oh, Will got all domestic and is vacuuming. Of course, she had to turn the TV up, too.” A long-suffering sigh drifted over the phone. “I’m fine, Buffy. Are you sure you’re all right, though? You sound tense.” Damn Tara’s ability to read her even across an ocean and most of Europe.

“All’s well in Buffyland.” Then the need to get off the phone and back to waiting broke in. “What can I do for you, Tara? You finally going to get Willow to take a vacation? Or…” Grinning mischievously, she tried again. “I know. You’re going to get married, aren’t you? I bet you got tired of living in sin after all these years.”

Tara’s giggles sounded in Buffy’s ear. “No, Buffy. No to both of those. I mean, Willow take a vacation? Giles would give up tea first.”

This time, Buffy giggled. “What was I thinking?” When the laughter died, she asked more seriously. “What’s up? You don’t generally call without a reason, Tara.”

“I…I just wanted to know if you’d changed your mind, Buffy,” Tara said softly.

“No, I haven’t.” It came out harsher than intended, and Buffy closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. That sounded bad. Look, Tara, you know the way I feel about birthdays – especially mine. I’m not throwing open the door to anymore Hellgods or apocalypses.”

There was no response.

“Tell Will I said hi.” Buffy hated to be mean, but…She was so tired of her friends pushing on this issue.

“Sure. I will. Bye, Buffy.” Wincing at the stiffness in Tara’s voice, Buffy closed the phone.

***

Scrubbing her sweating palm on her pants, Buffy scanned the lobby of the Romanico Palace. No one seemed to look back or be waiting for anyone. She strode swiftly up to the front desk.

“Me scusi,” Buffy told one of the jacketed men behind the counter. “Parla inglese?”

He smiled at her. “Of course, Miss. How may I help you?”

“My friend was supposed to check in today. Rose Caspar. Can you tell me what room she’s in?” Wiggling her leg nervously, Buffy waited while the desk clerk checked his computer.

His eyes widened and Buffy swore he smirked before the professional smile came out again. “Ah, yes. Ms. Caspar is in Suite Fifty-Two. Are you Signorina Summers?”

“Si.” Buffy’s fingers drummed the counter in time with her bouncing leg.

“One moment, please.” She was beginning to hate that phony smile. The clerk bent down, disappearing from sight for a few seconds. When he straightened, he held out a single red rose, an envelope, and a keycard. “Ms. Caspar left these for you.”

Buffy took them and mumbled an automatic, “Grazie.” Walking back toward the lobby, she sniffed the rose. The heavy scent tickled her nose and she smiled before sliding open the envelope and removing the card inside.

Buffy,

I know it’s against all the rules for meeting an online date, but…Would you please come up to the room? I don’t feel comfortable having our first conversation in a crowded bar or restaurant.

Rose

Her stomach fluttered as airplane-sized butterflies took flight. Meet in the room? Buffy wandered to the bank of elevators. Her hand slipped into her pocket and touched the smooth surface of her phone. Maybe she should call Willow or Tara and let them know what she was doing. They could call and check on her if she didn’t call back in a few minutes.

The elevator doors slid open and Buffy stepped inside the car.

She didn’t make the call. She was a Slayer. Rose wasn’t a threat. Buffy watched the floor numbers light up. 1…2… Her heart rate increased with each new floor. By the time the car stopped at five, Buffy nearly panted. Sucking in a huge lungful of air, she exited and peered up and down the hallway. A gold-plated plaque announced that suites numbered fifty through fifty-five were to the left.

The short trip (all of thirty steps) seemed endless.

Finally, Buffy pressed the keycard into the slot of Suite Fifty-two. The green light winked on and the lock clicked open.

Buffy inched the door open just enough to stick her head inside. “Rose?” she called out, voice cracking.

No one answered, and Buffy listened intently. The sounds of a running shower reached her enhanced hearing. Stepping fully into the room and closing the door, Buffy considered her options.

Another rose lay in the middle of the bed.

In a few steps, Buffy stood over the flower – and the second card.

Thank you, Buffy. Pour a glass of wine and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right out.

Replacing the card on the comforter, Buffy located the tiny table on the small balcony. A silver bucket, complete with wine bottle sticking from the top, rested on the surface. Following Rose’s directions, Buffy uncorked the bottle and poured a glass of Chablis.

Soft footsteps whispering on carpet sounded behind her. Buffy stiffened and didn’t turn. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the sounds of downtown Rome below.

“Buffy?” The voice was so quiet that Buffy frowned and tilted her head. Had Rose really spoken or was she imagining it?

She was so intent on listening she jumped when a hand landed on each of her shoulders.

Gasping, Buffy noticed the differences in each.

“Turn around, sweetie,” the voice commanded gently.

Buffy pivoted, almost afraid of what she’d see.

“Surprise!” Willow smiled and leaned in, her lips brushing Buffy’s.

Tara repeated the gesture when Willow stepped back. “You wouldn’t let us give you a birthday present so we had to get creative.”

Head swimming, Buffy tried to make sense of everything. She opened her mouth several times but couldn’t get the words out.

The surreal feeling expanded when Tara reached up and stroked Buffy’s face. “We enjoyed the chats, Buffy, and the chance to get to know the real you. Even Willow didn’t know some of the things you admitted to us when we talked.” Her giggle tinkled through the room. “Of course, she acted shocked when you said you thought she was hot in high school.”

“R-rose?” Buffy choked out. “You…you’re Rose?”

“No, Buffy.” Willow pressed against Tara and took Buffy’s hand. “We are Rose. We are the ones who fell in love with you as we chatted and emailed.” Her thin fingers twined with Buffy’s. As she walked back inside, Buffy stumbled in her wake, drawn along by their joined hands.

When Willow dropped onto the bed, Buffy sat down next to her.

“I think we always loved you, Buffy,” Tara commented. She knelt at their feet and placed her hand on Buffy’s knee. “But even on a Hellmouth, a triad was too weird, too scary. We were going to tell you, though, after the First.” Her blues eyes darkened as she looked up at Buffy. “You disappeared before we got a chance.”

Wincing at the pain in Tara’s voice, Buffy whispered, “I’m sorry.”

The hand left her knee and a single finger pressed against her lips. “Shhh. Willow and I don’t need sorries, sweetie.” Lips tilting in a familiar half-smile, Tara murmured, “Well, not a verbal one anyway. If you’d like to show us how sorry you are…”

It was like swimming in syrup. Buffy thought she was moving. She certainly intended to move. Somehow, though, it seemed to take hours to raise her free hand and tuck Tara’s hair behind her ear. “What did you have in mind?” Tara’s finger caressed her lips as she spoke.

“Why don’t you unwrap your presents before you make up your mind?” Willow stood up and held her arms out from her sides. “Be careful not to tear the paper, though,” she teased with a wink.

“After all these years, Will, you know better.” Finally beginning to calm down, Buffy climbed to her feet and helped Tara up as well. “You’re the one who saves the paper. Me? I’m all about the ripping.” The earlier nervousness faded. Willow and Tara had come to her. Flown all the way to Rome. They’d been the voice holding back the loneliness and the increasing sense of isolation.

Focusing on that, Buffy moved closer to Willow in a single, powerful stride. “Hope you packed a lot of clothes.” Her fingers tangled in the silk of the blouse for an instant before she wrenched the halves apart. Buttons landed on the floor with a series of soft plops.

“Oh, I have a few changes in my bag, Buffy.” Shimmying, Willow dislodged the ruined blouse from her shoulders. It slithered to the floor. Buffy followed the progress for only a second – then her attention was redirected to the bare breasts and peaked nipples in front of her.

“Good,” she mumbled. “That’s good.” Buffy wasn’t sure what was good – the luggage situation or nearly naked Willow.

Warm hands burrowed under the hem of her own shirt from behind. “Did we break you, Buffy?” Tara purred in her ear. Her hands rose, taking Buffy’s shirt along for the ride. “It happened to me, too, the first time I saw those.” Her warm breath teased Buffy’s ear and neck.

Nodding jerkily, Buffy managed to tear her eyes away from Willow. She raised her arms and shivered as Tara’s palms passed over her breasts as she removed her shirt. The artificially cooled air attacked her skin immediately. Now there were two pairs of jutting nipples in the room.

Buffy wanted three. “I think I have another present to unwrap, don’t I?” She turned her head and peered into Tara’s blue eyes. “Do I have to take all the paper off the first gift before I start on the second?”

“They are your gifts, Buffy. Open, unwrap, play with… You get to decide.” Tara sat on the bed and slid up to the headboard.

“You know what’s the best part, Buffy?” Willow rested her chin on Buffy’s shoulder and pressed into her back.

It took two tries for Buffy to answer. “No, Will. What’s the best part?” she mumbled.

“These gifts can actually unwrap themselves.” Buffy heard the rasp of a zipper and then felt Willow wiggle. Seconds later, she saw Willow’s jeans land on the floor at their feet.

Buffy let her head fall back until she could nibble on Willow’s neck. “You two are the perfect presents. I think I want to celebrate my birthday like this every year.”