She worked her way down, one button following after another. Fred was far from the immune to the feel of heated skin brushing against the back of her knuckles, but that didn't keep her from savoring the task at hand.

A glance up at Wesley from beneath her own lashes left her confident he'd understand. After all. He was the one that'd thrown away the watch.

Finally, the last button tugged free. Her hands moved in reverse then, one slipping under each respective seam to slowly travel back up his exposed chest. Fred tasted wine again and realized her mouth had compressed itself tightly in some need to -- contain. Her fingers finally found his collar, tangling themselves in it for a moment.

All of the tension was there, her own nails cutting half-moons into her palms.

Then she let the breath she was holding in go, pushing back the shirt as far as she could off his shoulders. Fred trusted gravity -- and Wesley -- would manage the rest.