07 - The Female of the Species
Author: Starla
Email:fuzzylittlepackrat@hotmail.com

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Woah," Ariel breathed, her eyebrow arching as she took in the well-muscled beast before her. "I mean, uh, hi."

Clint rolled his eyes at her.

Angel smiled cluelessly, moving aside to let the siblings through the doorway. "Hey. Clint and Ariel, right?"

"Pizza delivery," Clint confirmed, holding up the boxes he carried.

"You must be Angel," Ariel said, a little breathless, "Buffy's like, obsessed with you."

A rare, full-fledged grin spread across Angel's face. "It's mutual."

"It's nice to meet you," Clint said politely, edging Angel away from his sister a little, "Good trip?"

The older man shrugged, "Business. Not really a holiday."

Buffy appeared at the top of the stairs, smiling at them for a moment before descending. "Hey, check it out. Cryptic guy can pull butler duties, too."

She laced her arm through Angel's, and he could feel the warmth of her freshly-washed skin through his clothing. "Well, you know I'm multi-talented that way."

She giggled and kissed his cheek. "But then, I already knew that." She glanced at their company, "Do I need to make awkward, dorky introductions? Like, Ariel, this is Angel, he enjoys reading, badminton, and long walks on the beach?"

"Spare us," Angel said with a grimace.

"You don't *really* play badminton, do you?" Ariel asked with a grin, "Somehow you just don't strike me as the type."

"Never played it in my life, though I do seem to remember seeing Buffy and Xander play once..."

"So I gave him a black eye! Is it my fault that little birdy thing is so... airborne?"

Angel chuckled and slid his arm around her shoulder, kissing her forehead. "You brought it up."

She grumbled under her breath, poking him none-too-gently in the side. "Big meanie."

More laughter from her boyfriend, "Kindergarten politics? Isn't that a little below you?"

"Is it making you guilty?"

Angel shifted slightly, "A little."

"Well, then, ner-ner-ner-ner-ner."

Ariel watched with interest, silently noting how different Angel was from her expectations. Definitely not the All-American jock guy she was expecting. He was kinda the polar opposite of that. Despite their joking, she could tell he was serious, the type to think way too much...and it was more than just the outfit - black covering every inch of his rippling body - that gave him away.

She'd spent a lot of time watching people, fascinated by the way they hid from the world, even if they pretended to be open for all the world to see. She knew the signs of anger, and fear, and lust and love and everything... and she found her amusement in looking for those signs, and playing in all the areas that were declared off limits.

She just got so damn *bored* with everything else.

Angel, she couldn't quite pick what his particular trauma was. It was a bit like he was walking very fine lines between a spectrum of different emotions, and couldn't quite settle in one place.

She'd have fun working out what his deal was... she'd have fun with him, full stop.

She grinned to herself, and took Buffy by the arm, "So, are the others here yet?"

*

Angel leaned his head against Buffy's shoulder, staring at the screen in confusion.

"I don't understand why you find this so funny."

"It's Adam Sandler. *I* don't understand how you can *not* find him funny," Xander exclaimed, staring at Angel with wide eyes. "You humourless fool!"

Angel's eyes moved slowly to Xander, lifting one brow, about to say something, and then shook his head with a sigh, staring at the screen once more.

Buffy giggled and kissed Angel's head, "I think you've evolved past Adam Sandler, honey. Maybe we'll try you on some Kevin Smith or Guy Ritchie or something later."

He craned his neck to look at her, "Should I just smile and pretend I know who these people are?"

She groaned. "I've got to get you an Entertainment Weekly sometime, I swear."

Angel just shrugged and leaned back against her chest again.

Buffy looked around at her friends and grinned. The gang had gotten together for pizza and videos while Joyce and Eric went to a play at the local theatre. They were scattered around the room, Willow and Oz curled together on a recliner, Cordelia, Clint and Ariel sharing the sofa, and Xander sprawled on his belly on the rug. Buffy herself was more comfortable than she had been in days, sitting on the floor, Angel's back pressed against her chest, nestled between her bent legs.

With a sigh, she leaned down to whisper in his ear, "I love you."

Angel didn't reply, but craned his head, flicking a smiling pair of dark-brown eyes up to meet her gaze.

He grinned for her, and she felt her heart flutter, thump-thump-thumping in her chest as she gazed at him... at kaleidoscope eyes and white chocolate skin, at decadently curved muscles and his little-boy-blue smile.

Buffy touched her lips to his, just a little, mindful of the people around her. It felt wonderful to have him with her again, after *days* and *days* of being without him.

//Codependency, yay!//

She smirked at that thought, resting her chin on his shoulder. So, they were probably indulging in a rather unhealthy way of life. What of it? They weren't exactly textbook cases, and if anyone could tell her how to stop needing him, she'd gladly follow their instructions.

Probably.

As it was, though, he was a massive part of her, and she just felt... off ... when he was gone. His absence always niggled at the back of her mind like a parasite, making it impossible to concentrate on anything beyond the ticking of the clock.

Now, he was back in her arms, where she could hold him and protect him, shield him fiercely from harm, and cushion him against the harshness of the world. In her arms, where she could love him.

Feeling a rush of joy, she sighed and laid her cheek against his neck, happy to ignore the movie in favour of inhaling his scent, feeling the electric velvet brush of his skin against her own.

Surrounded by her friends, she allowed herself to drown in him.

*

Later, Buffy and Willow hugged Xander goodbye, making him promise to write, or call, or anything to let them know that he was of the living. They watched him walk down the drive, to his shit bucket car, and knew they wouldn't see him again for what seemed like eternity.

Willow, Oz, and Cordy left soon after, citing exhaustion.

The remaining group - Buffy, Angel, Ariel, and Clint - sat around the living room not doing much of anything, occasionally talking, laughing, acting like they knew each other, when really, they were just a series of friends of friends of friends.

It was the way Ariel was watching him that first made Angel uncomfortable; the way her eyes would flow over his body, drinking and devouring and plotting his - what, his doom? His final seduction?

He didn't know, but the feeling made his skin itch, and he pulled Buffy - (sunshine) - tighter against his side, anchored her to him with all the love he held in his heart.

Buffy didn't notice anything was amiss, apparently, because her usual response to any kind of female attention directed his way was fuming jealousy, but she was laughing, and smiling, and joking with them. With Ariel.

Ariel, who stared at him like he was her next big conquest.

Ariel, who smelled like all the things he hated about himself as a human.

Ariel, who he was sure couldn't be trusted.

TBC.....