((A/N: This story contains detailed images of kissing/making out and is rated T for such reasons. If you do not like this, or don't think you can handle it, DO NOT READ. Thank you.))

"Wilson,"

Wilson Percival Higgsbury glances generously up from his reading material, an old tattered book, to peer over his vintage reading glasses at his survival partner. He watches as Willow holds her fingers over the tiny flame levitating from her prized lighter for extended periods of time. She continues her thought process.

"Why are you so stuck up?"

"Stuck up?" Wilson pulls his glasses from his face with a puzzled expression.

Willow nods in reply. "Yeah. Stuck up. Like, you're always calling me 'miss'. And the other day, you asked permission to examine the wound on my arm."

"You mean," Wilson chuckles, "being a gentleman?"

The comment compels Willow to roll her eyes. "A stuck up gentleman."

"Excuse me for being raised with manners and morals."

A smirk finds itself on the woman's face. She sits up from her lounging position. "Have you ever tried not being a gentleman?"

Wilson eyes his companion. "You mean, being rude?"

"Come here and touch me."

A blush as red as rubies flushes the scientist's face. His eyes grow wide while trying to comprehend the statement. "M-Miss Willow...!" His counterpart laughs at the reaction.

"Let's start off easier. Stop calling me 'miss'." She rises and places her fists on her hips. "Now get up and stand close to me."

With slight hesitation, he obeys Willow, standing awkward and aloof before her.

"Put your hands on me. But don't you dare ask permission." She smiles at Wilson while he begins to sweat nervously. His hands tremble as they reach out for her waist. Finally they latch on stiffly, and he watches her expression for the slightest disapproval. There is none.

"How do you feel?"

"Bad," Wilson replies. An anxious chuckle follows. "I'm never supposed to touch a lady without-"

"Do something else. Surprise me!" Willow places her arms on the taller one's shoulders and laces her fingers together behind his neck. She intimidates him with her glare.

His grip loosens. He shakes his head. "This goes against all my morals, Miss-"

"Ah-ah-ah," She cuts in, "no formalities."

"...-Willow."

Quick on her toes, Willow grins mischievously and taunts the poor man.

"You're scared, aren't you, Wilson?"

"Scared?!" He is appalled at the insult.

"You're not afraid of spiders, hounds, the deerclops, or even the night monster...but you're scared to hold a woman? Hmm?"

Wilson exchanges his look for one much more angry and determined. "No, I'm not scared to hold a woman. What I'm trying to tell you is I-"

"Do it, Wilson," she pauses to further emphasize her next, unrefusable comment: "for science."

There is a moment of silent recollection and decision making. Suddenly Willow is pressed against Wilson and is kissed passionately on the lips. He has his eyes shut too tight, while hers softly close as she melts into his touch. An indescribable tingling heat rises inside of the two of them, swirling in their stomachs, causing a celebration of fireworks and butterflies. Wilson's mad blush returns.

They separate. They stare. Wilson swallows the newly formed lead lump in his throat. Has he gone too far?

"How was that?" Willow asks breathlessly. A nod from the sheepish one.

"Marvelous."

"Can we do it again?"

"No need to ask permission, Willow." A smile, a laugh, and another kiss is had. This time, however, Wilson feels his interest's tongue grazing his bottom lip. He shyly parts his lips, but then second guesses his ability and pulls away. A thin thread of spit keeps the two held together for only a few moments.

"I-I-I can't, Miss Willow," Wilson admits. He scratches the back of his head and averts his eyes.

"Wilson, what do you mean," Willow places her hand reassuringly on the man's cheek. "We were doing so well...don't back out now." Her voice is tender, unlike the usual harshness she has.

"B-but I've...I've never-..."

"Then just follow my lead."

She leans back in, attempting once again. Her partner is tense and worried as he parts his lips for the second time. He allows her tongue to gently pass against his and then notices it's retreat. Soon Wilson is able to keep up, and their tongues dance elegantly in time with one another. When they pull away to catch their breath, Wilson maintains the mood of the moment by showering his maiden's neck with delicate kisses. She, in turn, let's her hot breath caress his ear.

"Wilson," Willow moans quietly.

"Mmmm...?"

"You've wrapped your arms around me."

Wilson pulls from her neck and glances at his arms, which had gone from a distant cling of the waist to fully wrapping around her hips, both hands flat on her back. He looks at Willow again.

"Is this not what you wanted?"

Willow giggles to herself. "It is. I just wanted you to realize that I've broken you."

"You've broken me?" He laughs. "Whatever you say, Miss Willow."

"I thought I told you not to-"

"I'm still a gentleman at heart, my dear."

She playfully slaps his chest. "You should know, then, that it's very un-gentleman-like to interrupt a woman."

"If I may inquire, Miss Willow," Wilson removes one hand from her back to run his fingers along the line of her jaw and hold her chin gently, "how did you ever learn to do such a thing? How many men have you stolen the hearts of?"

"A lady never kisses and tells."

He grins. "I don't know who you are anymore."

"Oh, but I know you, Higgsbury." Willow positions her lips an inch from Wilson's to tease him. "You're a stuck up scientist who doesn't know how to kiss women."

((A/N: Hope you enjoyed this little one-shot! Feedback is always appreciated. But please do NOT ask for a continuation or sequel, there won't be one.))