I snuggled into his arms, relishing the feel of cool non-breath against the back of my neck, the brush of velvet-ice lips against my earlobe.

I giggled and turned in his embrace, sliding my arms around his shoulders and pressing my naked body full length against his, chuckling again when I felt him stir against me.

"Pervert," I muttered affectionately, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him; you'd think he'd smell like blood, but he doesn't. He smells like hundreds of things I've never seen or tasted or imagined, and hundreds of things that I have. He smells like home.

"Buffy," he sighed, my name leaving his lips like the most precious song, candy pop and thumping punk and a chorus of angels singing Ode to Joy.

"Hey," I said, brushing my lips lightly against his in greeting, playing with the fine hairs at the back of his neck. Apparently he liked that, because he closed his eyes and leaned his head back into my fingers, and deep within him, he began to rumble... a real, honest-to-god purr. I never knew he could do that before.

Amazing the things you find out about a person once they've lain between your thighs.

I grinned at him, scratching his neck with the tips of my nails. "My big kitty," I smirked, loving my power over him, and his power over me, and the comfort we shared in the silence of the night.

He opened his eyes and glared at me a little, but I could tell he was trying not to smile. Finally, he grinned at me, a crooked-lipped twinkling-eyed burst of light from the shadows. God, he's adorable when he stops brooding. Or, even when he is brooding. I pretty much adore him through any activity.

His thumb brushed back and forth across my spine, and I shivered pleasurably. "Angel," I sighed. What is it with us and our names? We're like modern day cave-people. Buffy. Angel. Me Tarzan, You Jane.

Or, Me Jane. Whatever.

"Did you have a good birthday, love?" He asked me quietly, and I realised, suddenly, that we'd both been whispering ever since we woke, loathe to shatter the peace we'd been enveloped in.

"You mean, aside from the whole arm in a box thing?"

"Aside from that."

"Well...the part with us was nice."

"Nice?"

I grinned at him mischievously, "Well, you know, I gotta give you points for effort."

The stricken look on his face was enough to send me into a fresh fit of giggles, and I couldn't resist the urge to hug him tightly, lovingly, affectionately. "I love you," I whispered against his neck, and pressed a kiss to the delicious patch of skin just behind his ear.

He stroked my back with his massive hands, and pulled away to look at me. "Better than nice?"

"Fishing for compliments?"

"Fishing for reassurance."

"Isn't this supposed to be the other way around? Aren't I supposed to be all freaked out, and you're supposed to be like, 'Yeah, it was okay.'?" I asked, pressing my forehead against his.

Well, he was the one who had done this before, like hundreds of times, with-

*So* not going down that road.

He frowned at me, "Okay?"

I laughed, and kissed him, "Amazing."

He looked somewhat relieved. "I just... I just don't want you to regret anything."

I moved my hand to cup his cheek, and pressed a kiss to his forehead, "Nothing could make me regret that. Nothing." I nuzzled my nose against his. "This is the first time I've ever really felt..."

I trailed off, unsure how to express myself.

"What?" he prodded, gazing at me reassuringly, adoringly.

"Whole."

A smile spread across his lips, which he brushed over mine. "Me too."

Ahh. Angel-taste. Yum. I could drown in his skin, I swear. I could wrap myself up in it and wear it to school.

Except, um, gross.

I kept kissing him, devouring the salty-lemon-whiskey-sour taste of his skin (If you tell anyone I know what whiskey tastes like, I will deny all knowledge. Just so you know.), taking great gulps of air between kisses, feeling myself drown under a tidal wave of love and lust for him.

The ringing of the phone dragged me ashore.

Angel tore his lips away from mine, ignoring my moan of protest. He sat up in the bed, leaning over to snatch the phone from its cradle.

Pouting, I sat up too, crawling onto his lap and settling there, my knees splayed either side of his hips, my arms settling around his neck.

"What?" he growled into the phone, capturing my hand and holding it high above my head when I started scratching my nails over his neck and back. He glared at me, and I wriggled on his lap mischievously.

"Oh," he said, an instant later, looking a little abashed. "Hey, Giles."

I stiffened for a moment, cos, well, it's like being caught out by your *father*, but then shrugged and went back to irritating Angel as pleasurably as I could manage.

"No, no," Angel said, "You didn't wake me. I was just, uh, getting out of the shower."

I grinned at him, rolling my eyes.

"No, we got out fine," he continued into the phone, "We had some trouble but we got away. We got stuck in the rain."

Giles must have enquired about my a)well-being and b)whereabouts, because Angel's face took on a look of complete and utter adorable guilt, and he said, "No, she's here. She -"

I took the phone from him before he could finish, because he really isn't the best liar in the world. "Hey, Giles."

"Buffy," Giles said, sounding a little flustered. "We thought - well, that something terrible had happened."

It was my turn to flush with guilt. I'd completely forgotten to check in with the gang.

Well, I did have other things on my mind...

I grinned a little and twined my newly released hand around Angel's neck, bringing him close, keeping him close. "Sorry, Giles. I was waiting out the storm here, and I guess I just crashed. Long day, all that."

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat. "I'm very glad you're okay."

"Right as rain," I confirmed.

"And the Judge? Spike and Drusilla?"

I winced. "You're determined to ruin my day, aren't you?" I grumbled, and Angel tried to hide a grin.

"Has the judge been-"

"Yep. The chemical growth formula ken doll is rarin' to go."

"Pardon me?"

"Y'know, hideous side effect freaky looking blue guy. That'd be him." I pressed the phone to my shoulder and spoke to Angel. "I bet he looks just *darling* in a taffeta gown."

Angel pursed his lips together, trying not to laugh. We were really in much too good of a collective mood to deal with the apocalypse.

Giles was exasperated, though he should be used to me by now. "Buffy, this is quite-"

"Serious, I know," I sighed. "Sorry."

Angel pressed a kiss to my shoulder and lifted me off his lap, standing. I eyed his naked body appreciatively, reaching for his hand to pull him back down on the bed with me, but he swatted it away. He wandered over to the dresser, grabbing a pair of sweats and pulling them on. He nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen, then disappeared around the corner.

Sighing, I reluctantly accepted the fact that our little island of peace had destructed before my eyes.

"I'll be there soon, Giles," I promised, "Bye."

As comfortable as I was with Angel, I still blushed as I got out of the big bed and started searching for my clothes.

I pulled on my underwear and pants, groaning when I saw the massive hole in my twinset.

My groan turned into a grin when I saw Angel's closet door hanging open, displaying a row of neatly ironed shirts and sweaters.

With only a momentary thought to whether or not he'd mind, I plucked a brown velvet sweater off a hanger and slipped it over my head, rolling up the sleeves up so that my hands showed through. The thing was massive on me, the neck sliding around on my shoulders, the hem just reaching my knees. On habit, I started to look around for a mirror, then rolled my eyes and headed towards the kitchen.

I'm really gonna have to bully him into buying a mirror.

Shoving at my sleeves to try and get them to stay around my wrists, I breezed into the kitchen as if nothing was unusual.

Angel turned around and handed me a coffee, then stopped short as he took in my ensemble. I looked into my cup, not quite brave enough to meet his eyes.

He was silent for a few moments, and I have to admit to getting a little nervous. He didn't really seem like to type to be all weird about his clothes - I mean he gave me a leather jacket when we were little more than strangers - but with some people you never know. Like, I know mom gets ultra homicidal when I steal her leather boots.

The nervousness only lasted for a moment, because then he reached out and drew me against him, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Bit big on you, shorty."

The same happiness that had been there all morning was present in his voice, and when I lifted my eyes to his, they were twinkling appreciatively.

"Not my fault you're so beefy," I shot back, standing on my tiptoes to lick his cheek.

No, I don't mean kiss. I don't mean nuzzle. I mean *lick*.

He laughed, and I could feel the rumble spreading from his belly to mine.

Then he licked my cheek in kind.

I have to admit, I was kinda surprised. In a good way. In a very good way.

"God, we're devolving," I muttered.

"Explains the cave-man-like satisfaction I get from seeing you in my clothes," Angel agreed.

"Cave man, huh?" I repeated, "Could be fun. Big brute, you."

He laughed again and leaned down to kiss me thoroughly.

Then he pulled away just slightly, and said, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Apart from here?" I asked, leaning in to taste the coffee from his lips again, "No."

He humored me for a moment, starting to kiss me for a moment, but a few seconds into our embrace I noticed that he was shepherding me towards the door.

When we reached our destination he did an impressive bit of fumbling to get the door open, and turned me around so I was standing in the open doorway.

His lips left mine, and I glared half-heartedly, "Geez, don't be eager to see the back of me or anything."

Angel smiled at that and said, "If you don't leave now, you're not leaving. My resolve isn't as strong as you think it is."

"And there's something wrong with that?" I asked sweetly, then leaned in to kiss him briefly, "I'll see you later. Unless, y'know, the apocalypse comes first."

Something dark passed over his face, and he reached out and pulled me against him, hugging me fiercely, "Don't even joke about that... I can't..."

"Hey, sweetie, it's okay," I murmured, sensing something in him. Something scared. "I'll make the monsters go away," I promised.

"I'm not worried about *me*," he said insistently, "I'm worried about *you*."

Made sense. I'm always more worried about him than me. We're an awfully protective pair. Protective and stubborn. The two characteristics do not mix well.

"I'm indestructible," I promised. "I- Well, you know. I'm afraid, but... We'll work something out. We have to."

I kissed him, once more. We murmured words of love to one another, and then I backed away, letting go of his hand at the last possible moment.

That was a fortnight ago. I blew up the judge. Got to use a rocket launcher and everything. Xander's idea. Rather impressive. Cordy and he are in some weird S&M 'relationship'. I try not to pry, but I always get a mental picture of Cordy in a long coat and dark glasses preparing for a clandestine meeting with Xander.

Willow and Oz are the picture of cute. Oz is such a sweetie, I swear. It's about time Willow found some guy who really appreciates her. And Oz does. Completely adores her, in fact.

I mean, okay, Werewolf, but, you know, it could be worse. He could be a, um, a - well, a something icky. Giles is more up on these things than me.

Ooh, he could be a demon-in-a-robotic-body. Like Malcolm. I'm glad Willow's taste in men has improved.

(Says the girl who is sleeping with someone who could be her Great Grandfather to the power of 10.)

You know, apart from that, Angel's a pretty good catch. There's the eye-candy (hand-candy, mouth-candy) factor, the sweetness, the intelligence, the sense of humour I've recently discovered he has... the comfy clothes at my constant disposal.

The fact that he's started cooking breakfast for me whenever I stay over, which is fairly often. Mom's starting to think something weird is going on between me and Willow.

Heh. That's actually kinda funny.

So, back to Angel, my favourite subject. The past few weeks, for us, has just been... amazing. Really. We talk for hours, and then make love between his sheets... in his shower...kitchen... recliner... that one time in the locker room at school...

Hey, we're the defenders of the universe. I think we've earned the right to be nymphomaniacs. And if you don't like it, I'll beat you up.

That whole 'Charmed' philosophy of not using your powers for personal gain? I'm not into that. You should see me playing those Carnival games. Big fun. 'Specially when you see the looks on the not-quite-criminal Carnies' faces.

So, I'm currently on the way to Angel's for some quality time. Wonderful way to spend my Saturday mornings...and to think I used to sit around watching cartoons.

I feel incredible when I'm around him; like we're the only people in the universe. Like I could do anything, or be anything, or have anything.

Like I'm whole.

The only question now, is : Do I introduce him to my mother?

:: Chapter Two ::