02 - Dancing on Starstreams
Author: Starla
Email: fuzzylittlepackrat@hotmail.com

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The first thing Buffy noticed when she woke was the pleasant buzz that radiated through her body. The second was the feeling that she was being watched.

Lazily, she opened her eyes, smiling sleepily at her lover. She moved closer to him, disapproving of the distance he'd put between them while she slept. "What're you doing all the way over there?" She mumbled, sliding her arms around his waist.

"I had to crane my neck to look at you before. It got sore." He kissed her head. "So I stepped back to get some perspective."

She let out a breath of laughter. "You talk about me like I'm some fine work of art or something."

Angel ran his hand down her arm, looking at her seriously. "You are."

She smiled happily. "That's so sweet." She paused. "I'm not one of those abstract things, am I? A hideous deformed mass????"

Angel chuckled. "Nah. You're like an impressionist painting."

"Oh." She frowned. "Aren't they the blurry things?"

Angel smiled. "Yeah. No matter how long you look at them, you can never quite see everything that you know is inside. So you look, and you look, and things become clearer, but you can never quite work them out."

Buffy blushed. "Personally, I think you've got me worked out pretty well."

Angel shook his head. "You're still a mystery."

"Is that good?"

He didn't reply with words. Instead, he leaned down, softly pressing his lips over hers in a sweet, simple kiss. When he pulled away, her eyes were sparkling. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

She reached up a hand to run it through her hair, only to find it a mass of knots and tangles. She made a face. "Not good." She went to stand up, and he made a sound like a small whimper. "Where are you going?"

"To kill the skunk on my head." She replied.

"No mirrors..." He reminded her.

"Oh. Right." She frowned. "So how do I get rid of the roadkill??"

"You don't . You look beautiful." He promised her, replacing his arms around her waist.

"To you. But I'm thinking that if I go to school like this, people will notice." She told him. "And Point. And mock. And laugh."

"And you can't do your hair without a mirror?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Are you kidding? That would be like, a 9.99 on the difficulty factor. It's impossible."

"I do it every day." Angel shrugged.

"Yeah, but you are a guy. Your hair is guy-like. A little gel, run a comb through it, tada! If it's messy, people just think that's the 'look' you were going for." She grinned mischeivously. "Besides, *you*? I hate to tell you this, Angel, but it ain't your hair they're noticing."

He frowned, completely confused. "What are they noticing?"

She laughed. "You are so completely clueless, sometimes, honey, I swear." She kissed him on the cheek. "You equals very sexy tall dark and yummy. This state of being guarantees that people's attention will not be focused on you hair looks like, but the package as a whole. You're droolworthy. Girls want you, and guys want to keep their girls away from you."

Angel rolled his eyes. "That's not true."

"Yes, it is." Buffy assured him.

He frowned. "It is?"

She nodded. "I hate to break it to you, honey, but you're a sexy beast."

He laughed. "Ah well. We're a matching set. That's a good thing."

"Speaking of matching, you need a tux."

"I have the feeling I'm missing something." Angel said slowly.

"The Prom." Buffy said, disentangling herself from Angel's arms, knowing from a glance at the clock that if she didn't start to get ready soon, she'd be late for school. "Y'know, dresses, tuxes, a band, maybe some practical joke involving pigs blood." She frowned. "I can't believe I haven't mentioned it before."

"I think you have." Angel said thoughtfully. "I might have been a bit preoccupied with other things..." He indicated the small hickey on the side of her neck.

Buffy grinned. "Note to Self:" She said aloud. "Don't tell Angel things while he's sucking."

"Probably a good policy." Angel agreed.

Buffy rummaged through her bag, looking for her compact, sighing when she realized that she'd forgotten it, she withdrew a knife, trying to see her reflection in the gleaming silver blade. "You really do need to get a mirror here, you know." She sighed, dropping the knife on the bed and tugging her brush through her hair. She'd stop by the bathrooms when she got to school. "And I should have a drawer. Girlfriends have drawers."

Angel smiled, rising from the bed, gently taking the brush from her hands. "You, my dear, can have a whole dresser. A walk in closet if your heart so desires." He swore his unbeating heart fluttered when she smiled happily at him. "Cool. You know, dating a guy who has had hundreds of years to save his money makes sense." She smiled lazily at him. "He can afford me."

Angel didn't reply, instead circling so that he stood behind her, lifting the brush to her hair. Slowly, he ran it through her golden locks, untangling the knots gently.

Buffy closed her eyes, enjoying being fussed over. "Mmm. You're good at that." She murmured.

"I used to have to brush my little sister's hair." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Every morning, and every night. And I had to plait it too."

"It paid off. Magic hands. But then, I already knew that..." She said, grinning slyly.

"Buffy, if you keep using that tone of voice, believe me, you'll be late for school." Angel told her.

"Ok. I'll stop. I promise."

*****

Buffy was late for school.

She strode into second period halfway though Miss Murray's lesson on poetry analysis, subconsciously fingering one of the plaits that dangled over her shoulder. "Uh, sorry I'm late." She said. "I had some...uh...stuff....." She was still Miss Murray's favourite student, though, thanks to her stolen interpretation of Othello. "Of Course, Buffy, sit down."

Buffy obeyed, slipping into her seat next to Willow. She glanced at the board, quickly copying down her notes, then drifitng off into a pleasant haze of memories. Her pen moved over her page slowly, doodling. She was vaguely aware that she was drawing, semi-conscious of her surroundings, but mostly, she was back at the mansion sleeping peacefully in her lover's arms. The bell ringing brought her abruptly back to the present. She glanced down at her notepad, smiling when she saw what she had drawn. In the centre of the page, there was a heart, surrounded by a haphazard claddagh ring. In the centre of the heart, there was an angel, halo and all.

It had fangs.

Willow appeared behind her, leaning over her shoulder to get a look at the doodle. She groaned dramatically. "You have a one track mind." She teased.

"I wish I could deny that." Buffy sighed, gathering her books and leaving the room with Willow.

"I take it your 'stuff' was big smoochies with Angel?" Willow asked as they walked down the hall.

Buffy grinned happily. "He plaited my hair."

Willow glanced at her. "You're kidding. Angel did that? Wow, when did he go all stylist on us?"

"The Eighteenth Century." Buffy replied.

"Fair Enough." Willow shrugged. "Did you ask him about Prom?"

"Ask? He was supposed to have a choice?" Buffy said in mock confusion. "Where would the fun in that be?"

Willow giggled, and the girls split up, heading for their other classes.

*****

Joyce slid into her chair, smiling at her companion. Eric smiled warmly, reaching over and taking her hand. They ordered coffees, talking quietly until they arrived. Joyce stirred her cappucino thoughtfully.

"My daughter's Prom is tomorrow night." She said idly, smiling when she thought of the beautiful dress Buffy had bought.

"Ah, yes. Buffy." Eric said. "Have you....Does she know about me yet?" There was no bitterness in the question. Joyce had explained to Eric that she just wanted to get comfortable with him first before she introduced him to her daughter, and everything got complicated. She hadn't mentioned, though, that she also hadn't wanted to flaunt a happy relationship in front of her daughter when she had been forced to miss those moments with her own boyfriend.

Now that the situation with Angel had changed, that wasn't standing in the way anymore, everything was clear to tell Buffy all about Eric.

Well, except for the part where she was terrified. Scared that Buffy wouldn't like him, or he wouldn't like her, or something else that would make the relationship impossible.

"She's stressed right now. I think, it would be best to wait until after graduation. It wouldn't be fair to drop this on her now."

Eric considered this. "Graduation is what, 2 weeks away?" He asked. Joyce nodded. He smiled. "I can deal with that."He took a sip of his coffee. "My kids are coming in from New York for the Summer. We can tell them, too."

Joyce smiled nervously, wishing she felt as self assured as he sounded.

"It'll be okay, Joyce." He said gently.

Slowly, she nodded. "Yeah. I think maybe it will."

****

Buffy smiled into the mirror as she smoothed her hand over the skirt of her dress, half turning, watching the way the pink shimmered in the light. She'd stuck to basics with her hair and make-up, wearing just a little gloss on her lips and bronze shimmer powder over her collarbone and cheeks.

She looked gorgeous, even if she did say so herself.

"Angel's going to flip." Her mother said from the doorway. She looked at Willow, and rose one eyebrow. "As will Oz."

"Oh, Oz isn't really the flippy type. He'll go 'hmm'." Willow said happily.

Buffy laughed. "The Oz version of flipping."

Buffy was reminded of an evening more than a year before when she and Willow had gotten ready together like this, in preparation for going trick or treating. She had been all excited about her costume, about the way it made her feel like a princess.

This dress was better. It made her feel special, yes. But it also felt like *her*. The last dress had been a costume, a glamour to hide her true self, whereas this one...this one was to put all her best qualities on display. She felt strong, and vibrant, and knew that it wasn't because of the dress. She didn't need the dress.

But she *really*, *really* liked it.

The doorbell sounded, and Buffy nearly squealed. She'd never seen Angel in a tux before, never really been to a formal with him before.

Her mother ran down the stairs to open the door, and Buffy had no doubt that she would have a camera out.

She heard her mother's voice as she greeted Angel and Oz. Heard her beloved's rich, deep voice, and felt a tingle in her stomach.

She and Willow left her room, and started down the stairs. She paused, taking in the picture of Angel in his formalwear. He wore a simple tux, with a white waistcoat and cravat. She noticed with a smile, however, that his jacket was kneelength. She didn't know if it was subconcious or not, but by now, in her eyes, the longer coat was his trademark.

She swayed her hips as she descended the stairway, and locked eyes with Angel when he turned to see her. His lips parted slightly, and she saw his adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

She beamed, stepping of the last stair and slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Hi Honey. Nice Threads." She murmured.

He was speechless for a moment, before looking down at the corsage he held in his hands.He took her hand, kissing the back of it softly before clasping the corsage around her wrist. It was a white rose, it's silky petals tipped with pink.

"You look stunning, my love." He whispered.

She blushed, smiling sweetly. "Well, I try."

"You don't have to." He replied.

"Photos!" Joyce exclaimed happily, herding the foursome into the livingroom, where she took nearly an entire film of photos.

After all, that's what mothers were for.

****

Buffy and Angel walked arm in arm into the gym, the standard prom music of Fatboy Slim meeting their ears. Willow and Oz walked beside them, and Buffy spied Xander talking to Anya on the other side of the room. Cordelia flashed her an uexpected smile as she walked past with Wesley, and she saw Giles and Miss Murray laughing over a glass of punch.

She caught a few interested stares from girls as she walked past with her sexy beast, and laughed, shaking her head. He was oblivious,.as always. She ran her hand up his arm as they walked, the expensive material feeling luxurious blanketing his hard biceps. They walked over to where Xander stood, and he looked relieved.

"Buffy! You look gorgeous!" He said, too enthusiastically. "Anya was just telling me about the adventures she had when she was the patron saint of women scorned! Hey, did you know it was possible to tear a mans brain out through his ears?"

"Yes." Buffy and Angel said in unison.

Xander sighed. "Well I didn't. How come you never shared these fun facts with me before?" He asked sarcastically.

"We'll just go, shall we?" Buffy said slowly, tugging on Angel's arm, leading him over to the dance floor as a slow, romantic song began.

She slid her arms around his neck, and felt his hands come to rest on her hips as they swayed to the hypnotic beat. She made slow, lazy patterns on his neck with her fingers, playing with the clasp of the chain he wore.

"I love you." They whispered at the same time, their lips meeting in a kiss.

They didn't notice when the music was shut off and the committee began to give out awards.

*****

"Is Buffy Summers here?" Johnathon's voice croaked over the PA system. A murmur went through the crowd as they looked for her, swivelling.

"Buffy Summers? Are you here tonight??" He repeated. Willow turned, her eyes going wide as she spotted Buffy and Angel, still standing on the dancefloor, arms wrapped around each other, kissing intently. The rest of the crowd spotted her at a round the same time, but no-one said anything.

The room went extremely quiet.

Buffy and Angel finally broke apart, and stood, staring into each other's eyes for several moments before realizing that they were being watched. Slowly, they looked up to face the crowd. Buffy immediately blushed, and there were a few hoots and whistles throughout the room.

Mostly, a whole bunch of people looked jealous.

Johnathon stammered for a moment before speaking again. "We're not good friends. Most of us never took the time to get to know you, but that doesn't mean we haven't noticed you. Though we don't talk about it, it's no secret that weird things happen at Sunnydale High."

"Zombies!"

"Hyena People!"

"Snyder!"

The whole room started laughing.

"But whenever something creepy happened, you seemed to show up and stop it. Most of us have been saved by you, and I am happy to announce that the class of 1999 has the lowest mortality rate of any graduating class in Sunnydale History." He smiled proudly at this point. "So Buffy Summers, we award you, Class Protector!"

Buffy glanced at Angel, still blushing from their interrupted kiss. She made her way to the stage, reluctantly releasing his hand, going up to the stage, praying that she wouldn't have to make a speech.

She took the golden parasol that Johnathon handed her, smiling gratefully at the class before making a quick escape back to Angel's arms. She buried her head in his chest, still absolutely mortified. "I've never been so embarrassed in my life." She muttered into his shirt.

She pulled back, looking into his eyes. "It was worth it though."

"Yeah." Angel agreed. "It was."

And he kissed her again.

****

They walked into the mansion together close to 4 hours later. Buffy stripped off her dress as they walked through the halls, hanging it on a coat hanger and shoving it in Angel's closet before changing into a tank top and a pair of shorts and going back out to his lounge room, where Angel sat on his couch, his jacket and waistcoat sitting over the back of the loungesuit, his shirt half undone.

She collapsed onto the sofa next to him cuddling into his side. "And I though slaying was tiring." She murmured, yawning.

He laughed. "That was exhausting." He agreed.

"It was fun though. And I got a new toy." She indicated the parasol that she'd dropped on his coffee table.

"You earned it." He told her, brushing her hair away from her eyes.

"Yeah." She agreed sleepily. "I did."

She held his hand as she fell asleep.

And she passed another night in his arms.

:: Chapter Three ::