"Oh, and darling? Be a doll and tell Eddie he's welcome to join us in case he couldn't hear me from under the bed."

Willow's cheeks are glowing red before her mom even has the chance to shut the door. She's stunned, standing like a statue and not moving, even when she can hear Eddie's laughter suddenly sounding behind her. It's gradual - what starts as a few giggles from beneath her bed turns into full blown hysterics as Eddie rolls himself out onto the bare floor. He's lying on his back, eyes squeezed shut and hands holding his stomach.

"It's not funny," she finally says, snapping her head into his direction, still flustered with her embarrassment.

His fit dies down as he eyes open, a few stray tears from his enjoyment still in the corners of them, "You're right. It was hilarious."

"It was embarrassing."

"It was kind of charming. I think I get why Buckley loves your mom."

" Don't encourage that," she groans, finally turning and walking over to where he is.

He peers up at her, eyes glittering with mischief, "Say, is your mom single?"

She glares down at him harshly and doesn't hesitate to swing her foot to kick him in his side. He lets out a rush of air as he starts to chuckle again, and she pulls back, ready to kick again, when his hand reaches out to grasp her ankle.

Oh God, not this again.

"I'm joking! I'm joking, I surrender. Your mom's off limits. I got it," he says as his fingers stay wrapped around her skin. It's warm, and distracting, diminishing her anger quickly as she frowns and stares at where he holds her.

Maybe she should establish a rule where he's not allowed to grab her ankles if it's going to affect her every time he does it.

"I hate you," she spits with no malice as he sits up on her floor. His curls frizz from his shuffling beneath her bed.

"Oh, come on. We both know you don't," he sees right through her. Even if they're joking at this moment, they both know that hating each other is sort of impossible at this point, "I suppose our lesson will have to be put on hold. Did you say she's making lasagna?"

Despite Willow's disappointment in the postponed lesson, she carries on as if she were unaffected. As if she wasn't reeling still from his lips on hers. As if that wasn't the only clear thought on her mind right now. She turns back to her door, opening it as Eddie follows behind her once he's picked himself up off her bedroom floor, prepared to go call Robin. If Willow forgot, then her best friend surely has as well.

The moment Willow's door is open, she hears knocking at their front door.

She thought that the two of them had been quiet as they exited her room, socks muting their footsteps as they trail down the hallway and towards where Willow's mom is already stationed in the kitchen, but she hasn't even appeared in her mom's peripheral when she hears, "Hon, can you grab the door? It's probably Robs."

Willow stops dead in her tracks, Eddie's chest immediately bumps into her back as he whispers a quiet apology quickly. She isn't sure which of her swirling emotions to focus on first - the soft happiness at her mother using the nickname on Robin, or the burning anxiety at this finally being the moment Eddie would properly meet her mom. They'd been sneaking around with their families for the entirety of the month, not out of necessity, but simply to avoid questions. She knew Eddie had told Wayne about her, and she had gushed a ridiculous amount about Eddie to her own mother. Based on their conversations, Anne loved the idea of Eddie.

But would she love the real deal?

He had a reputation that preceded him in every room he entered. And Anne knew about it, she'd made that clear the very first conversation Willow had with her regarding the boy. Had the whispers already tainted the image her mother held of him, or had Willow's frequent rambles about his niceties cleaned the slate?

"Yeah, of course!" she calls out finally, and one of Eddie's hands reaches up to squeeze her shoulder. She faces him, finding him looking just as nervous as she was.

It all melts away as their eyes meet.

She drops down to a whisper, "You don't have to stay, you know? This is your chance to escape while you can."

"And miss the lasagna?" he scoffs, referencing all the times Robin had brought up her mother's cooking in passing, "You just want more of the cheesy goodness to yourself. Not happening."

There's something more behind his words. She sees the way he straightens up his back and puts on a brave face for her, as if they were going into battle, and he was prepared to be by her side till the end of the bloody fight ahead.

Calling dinner with her mother a bloody fight may be a bit dramatic.

They have to pass by the entryway to the kitchen in order to get to the front door. Willow takes a deep breath, and awaits the worst. Hopefully, her mom has her back to them, too busy boiling pasta and perfecting her meat sauce to notice them. They'll pass right by her like ships in the night, their shadows won't even reach her eyesight, and it'll all be-

"Oh, hello there, Eddie!" her mom says, having been waiting in the entryway for the two of them. Willow's face falls in time with her heart. Damn it. "Perfect timing, I need an extra set of hands in the kitchen. Come and help me while Willow gets the door."

Willow isn't awarded a chance to save him. Her mom reaches out to gently grab his bicep, pulling him into the kitchen as Willow sees his frightful face. His head is turned to her, wide eyes practically screaming for help.

She has to swallow down her laughter as she goes to answer the door, leaving her fellow soldier defenseless.

She can still hear her mother instructing Eddie when she finds Robin on her front door step.

" Finally ! God, I thought you had forgotten about me or something. Was about to start scavenging for dinner-" Robin cuts herself off, inhaling deeply, "It smells so good."

Willow rolls her eyes, "Yeah, yeah. Are you only my friend for my mom's cooking?"

Robin pushes past her, spinning and walking backwards as she smirks Willow's way, "Oh, absolutely. Your mom's cooking, your mom's baking, your mom's embarrassing stories - actually, I think I'm just friends with you to get to your mom."

"I swear, if you and Eddie keep saying you're going to get with my mom, I'm going to-"

"Eddie's here?"

Right on cue, his laughter echoes from the kitchen, mingling with her mother's voice.

"Yeah," Willow breathes out, shyly smiling in the direction of the kitchen, "Eddie's here. He's gonna join us for dinner."

Robin gags dramatically, "You say that as if he's the President, or it's Stevie Nicks is joining us for dinner."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Willow asks, raising her eyebrows at her friend's theatrics.

"It means get a room," Robin politely drops her voice for her next sentence, "Have you seriously not told him?"

" Why must you always bring this up?" Willow groans, "No. I haven't, and I won't."

"What are you waiting for?" Robin whisper-yells.

"I dunno. For him? I'm not going to be an idiot twice," Willow mutters. She can hear more laughter bubbling from the kitchen, this time her mother's, "Besides, for right now, it works."

"Is that really your plan? To just... to just fake date until it's real and hope he doesn't notice?" Robin scrunches up her nose in disapproval, a small groan sounding in her throat, "Jesus, I'm switching up my plan here."

"Plan?" Willow questions, tearing her attention from the hallway where she could see Eddie's shadow dancing from out of the kitchen.

"You don't really think I forced the two of you to keep fake-dating because of dingus, do you?"

Realization hits her quickly. " Robin, no."

"Robin, yes!" she sings back, ignoring the look of horror on Willow's face.

"Seriously? I- You're telling me this entire thing was to make us get together for real? You're delusional."

They're keeping their volume down, both aware of the main pawn in their game fluttering around a room over.

Robin leans into Willow's space, grinning wildly, "Oh yeah? Then tell me, my beautiful red-headed friend, why did you agree to it?"

Robin has caught her with her hands tied, causing her to stutter and stumble over her words, "I-No-I.... Jesus Christ, Robs, I agreed because it was a g-good plan - a great plan! Not because... not just to..." she trails off, and can tell by the smirk of amusement on Robin's lips that she's not arguing her case convincingly, "It doesn't matter why I agreed. Because it's all fake. It's not real to him. We're just stuck playing pretend until our clock runs out."

"Not real to him? Willow, he's in the kitchen cooking with your mom right now. No offense, but how many fake boyfriends do that ?"

"She forced him to."

"He's a big boy. He could have said no."

"She's just- she's really convincing."

Robin genuinely laughs at her, shaking her head, "'Low, you can argue with me all you want, but we both know he didn't stay for her. He stayed for you ."

She'd love to believe Robin. She wants to believe that Eddie stayed for her, that he stayed not out of arbitrary politeness but because it was an excuse to spend more time with her. But every fiber in her body defensively bristles as it decides that no , that is an impossibility, Eddie wouldn't put himself through that solely for her .

"I'm gonna use the bathroom, there better be lasagna left for me when I get out," Robin announces, giving a comical warning look at Willow before she disappears down the hallway.

"It's not even done yet, don't worry," Willow snorts.

Once she's left alone in the living room, she hears more laughter booming, once more her mother's. It's been a while since she'd heard so much of that melodic sound. She finds herself sneaking up to the entrance of the kitchen, going unnoticed this time as she peaks around the wall to catch a sight before her that makes her heart turn to a puddle.

Her mother is standing over the stove, the smell of herbs and seasonings floating through the air, while Eddie stands beside her with his hair tied up into a bun. A familiar black scrunchie secures the knot, and Willow can't even be mad. She hadn't noticed him stealing that one earlier, far too distracted with his kisses, but it only makes her smile now.

With both their backs to her, they're carrying on with their private moment, leaving Willow an outside intruder. She's selfish, and continues to spy on the two of them for a while longer. Eddie has clearly dropped all of his worry about being alone with her mother based on the smoothness of the muscles across his back, movements confident and posture dropping in relaxation.

"So you hand grate this stuff every time ? You know they sell it pre-shredded, right?" Eddie's teasing tone sounds, and Willow watches as he glances over at her mom with a boyish grin.

"Oh, not you, too! I've told Willow a thousand times, and I'll tell you the same - pre-shredded cheese doesn't melt as good. Besides, I use fresh mozzarella."

Her mom was exaggerating - Willow had only nagged her about not going through the extra work for the dish about a hundred times, not a thousand.

"Oh, c'mon! Can you really taste the difference?" Willow watches as Eddie sneaks a bit of shredded cheese into his mouth, realizing her mother had assigned him to the hard work tonight. The grater is in his right hand, a chunk of fresh mozzarella abandoned off to the side on the cutting board, "Wait, shi- shoot, you're right . It does taste better. Nevermind."

Willow bites her lip to avoid letting a giggle slip at the way Eddie narrowly avoided cursing in front of her mom. But Anne carries on as if she was unsuspecting of his foul mouth.

"See? Exactly. But no more sneaking bites! I'll kick you out of my kitchen!"

It's horrendously domestic, and Willow is drinking in every second of it. She'd always wondered how her mother would react to her having a boyfriend; she'd pondered if she'd love whatever boy Willow brought home as much as her daughter did, if he'd join them for family dinners and turn their dinings for two into dinings for three. She'd had girlish dreams of Christmas mornings with a lover at her side, dragging him along to Thanksgiving gatherings and getting to parade him around, hand clutched in hers. A boy to be her mother's guinea pig as she perfected her banana bread recipe, a boy to get her grandmother off her back about being single. Someone to share the blush when talk of kids and marriage entered the conversation.

Someone to share her life with.

It should startle her, how easily those pictures of manufactured memories with a blurry face clear to slot Eddie right into them. How her brain fits him in so effortlessly. In her mind, suddenly, it's not just some boy - it's Eddie. She'd spent a few sleepless nights trying to insert Steve into the whimsical scenarios. They were all fun and games to imagine, but they'd always disappear into the fog of early mornings, never lingering long enough for her to grasp onto. Her crush on Steve Harrington always remained something of the moment, ever present and ever moving, but never leaking into her future.

Something about Eddie in these scenarios doesn't feel fleeting. And it causes a new warmth for Willow as she leans contently in the entryway, no longer hiding behind the wall, waiting for some of the most important people in her life to turn and catch her eavesdropping. Her arms curl around her chest as if it's attempting to hold the warmth in before it can leave her.

But there's a voice in the back of her head that whispers, it's okay. It's here to stay. Enjoy it.

Eddie has clearly finished shredding the cheese for her mom when he turns and leans a hip on the counter, and he finally sees Willow in his peripherals.

"Hm, seems we have an audience," he muses, side-eyeing Willow for only a moment before he finally turns his entire body to her, "Your mom said they should give me a medal for how fast I am at grating cheese."

"I said no such thing," Anne laughs, glancing over her shoulder at her daughter, "Would you mind setting the table, hon?"

Willow pushes herself off the wall immediately, keeping eye contact with Eddie as she makes her way to cabinets over his shoulders and shrugs, "I doubt he's broken my record yet. I've had years of practice in that olympic sport."

"Oh, yeah? Then where's your medal?"

"Didn't you see it on my desk? It's hanging right over my trophy that says I'm the best girlfriend ever."

" Really ? Guess it didn't catch my attention. Probably because it's so much smaller than my own best boyfriend ever trophy I've got at home."

Robin suddenly enters the kitchen, breaking their banter that her mother had been sneakily enjoying, "Trophies? Who's getting trophies?"

"Robin," her mother sits down the wooden spoon she was using to stir red sauce on the stove with, turning and immediately going to hug Willow's best friend. Robin returns the hug eagerly, allowing her mother to plant a soft kiss on her cheek, "How have you been, love?"

"Oh, you know, just living the dream," she jokes as she pulls back from the embrace, looking back to Eddie and Willow, "Are we seriously handing out trophies? I want one."

"Sure thing, Buckley. I'll be sure they inscribe it with ' most annoying person ever ' right on the plaque, just for you," Eddie chirps, amused at his own joke. Willow turns to grab plates out of the cabinet, but when he suddenly notices her reaching (and struggling), he smacks her hands away to grab the plates with ease, handing them to her as he says, "Here, shorty."

"I am not short," Willow mutters in complaint under her breath.

Robin is unphased by his insult, firing back with just as much snark, "Aw, I don't think you'll have to go through all that trouble for me, Munson. I'm sure you've already got that one lying around for yourself, right?"

"Play nice," Willow warns the two of them, handing them each two plates, "Now help me set the table, please , and leave my mom to work her magic."

"Yes!" her mom agrees, shaking her head at the three, "Please, get out of here. Shoo!"

She's surprised that her friends listen with ease, immediately walking over to the dining table and beginning to sit a plate in front of each seat. Without killing each other.

Willow decides to grab the glasses and silverware next, taking her time moving around her mom who's beginning to assemble the lasagna in a baking pan.

Once they've set the table, the three teenagers take their seats at the table and talk as Willow's mom finishes up cooking. There's a few times that Eddie tries to insist he should help her more, but Anne won't have it - she sends him back to the table with the girls with waving hands and a vigorous shake of her head. They talk about their classes, Eddie and Robin specifically going off on a tangent together about what a pain their math teacher is, as well as what ideas they had for Halloween costumes. It may have been premature, but Robin and Eddie immediately clicked over their obsessive love for the holiday.

"I've told Willow a million times that if she hasn't figured out what she's going to dress up as by July, she's already behind schedule," Robin explains as Willow rolls her eyes, picking her jeans below the table as Eddie leans forward beside her to get a clear look at Robin.

"Exactly! Exactly. You should start planning your next costume on November 1st as far as I'm concerned."

"That's just insane," Willow argues, looking back and forth between the two. She expected Robin to call out how ridiculous Eddie's last statement had been, but she's only nodding enthusiastically, "Oh my God, you two are menaces! What about Christmas? Or Thanksgiving! Other Holidays exist besides Halloween."

"How is it our resident horror movie enthusiast isn't also the biggest Halloween enthusiast?" Eddie snorts. He has a point - Willow sees the irony as well, "How does that even happen?"

He goes to put an arm around her shoulders, but she quickly shrugs it off. She can see confusion flash across his face, but she doesn't address it, "I dunno. I just- It was fun as a kid, but as an adult? There's nothing really magical about it anymore. What can adults even do to celebrate it?"

"You're kidding me, right?" Robin pipes up from Willow's left, "I mean, I've always known you're not crazy about the holiday, but you're telling me the reason is because you think you're too grown up to celebrate? My dear, I have failed you tremendously."

"Buckley's right. She did fail you if you think there's nothing fun for us geriatric patients to do," Eddie tries to joke along, but she can tell he's still stuck on how she shrugged off his arm. She didn't think the small act would matter in the midst of casual conversation, but the coolness of the action was lingering with him.

"Okay. Name one thing you can do."

" Parties , " Robin excitedly exclaims as Eddie softly says, " Scary movie marathons. "

Willow focuses on what Robin said, since it was the only one she could argue against.