Angel walked gingerly back into the throne room, a spear wielding guard behind him.

'Leave us!' Cordelia shouted.

The door closed noisily behind him.

Two guards had jumped him on the road outside the castle and wordlessly marched him back. He could have taken them but didn't want to use any more violence than necessary, at least not until Wesley had found what he needed in the priests library.

Cordelia was alone, sitting cross legged on her throne, picking at a bunch of grapes. She smiled broadly when she saw him. He relaxed a little, relieved.

'Hey. I asked them to bring you back; I figured I don't want to be left alone. Just in case they start with the hot pokers again. That and I'm bored – it's not like they've got cable.' She spoke casually, like this sort of thing happened every day –but then a lot of weird stuff happened to Cordelia pretty much every day.

He mumbled a response as he moved to the mirror again, he couldn't help it. He stood in profile experimentally shifting positions. Cordelia appeared in the reflection.

'Like I said- you look good, almost always do.' She met his eyes in the mirror, brushing dust from his shoulder.

Suddenly weary, he sat down in one of the chairs lining the wall. With the relief of finding Cordelia, tiredness was starting to creep up on him.

'So, I have to ask. Did you pick this?' He gestured at her clothes, smirking ever so slightly.

Cordy looked slightly ridiculous in the sequined bikini top and gauzy skirt, knockout sexy‑but silly. He'd seen something like it during a brief visit he and Darla had paid to the harem of a Persian Prince in the 1870's. He remembered being surprised there were so many virgins.

'This?' She said, theatrically gesturing at her clothes.

'Bizarrely it was this or sackcloth - like made from actual sacks. You think I made the right choice?' She playfully pirouetted towards him, sequins rustling.

Before he had a chance to process what she was doing, she closed the distance between them, sat in his lap and kissed him in a way that made her intentions obvious. One hand twisted in his hair while the other kneaded his chest. He began to return the kiss, instinctively, passionately, only pulling away when his brain caught up with the implications.

He stood up sharply. Cordelia fell forward landing in a heap on the floor.

'What did they do to you?' He looked at her quizzically running through the usual suspects in his mind, a spell maybe possession. Long, bitter experience had taught him that anything sudden and unusual that happened to him was generally supernatural in origin and lust? Well that did not go his way either. Darla, gypsy girl, Buffy - all cases in point.

'Jeez, self-esteem issues much? A girl tries to kiss you and you assume she is possessed or something?' She said, reddening slightly as she picked herself up with as much dignity as she could muster.

'Cordy, apart from the whole dimensional problem we have here - what about the curse?'

'Angel, look around you, look at yourself – literally.' She gestured at the mirror.

'You can see your reflection, sunbathe, hell, for all I know you can even sing here. I doubt the curse even applies. Anyway. Wesley thinks you'll be fine - he's the expert.'

You asked Wesley if this was OK?' He stood looking at her, incredulous.

'I didn't ask him that. We were talking in the library, Gunn asked if you could 'get some' here and Wesley said you probably could, that the gypsies wouldn't have been able to word the curse to cross dimensions.' She crossed her arms, almost defiantly.

'That's why you asked them to bring me back?' He said, surprised.

'I guess so. Look, we fight demons for a living. What's a little morning after awkwardness? I've always had - I always wondered what it would be like - with you. Even back when you and Buffy were all Mr & Mrs Slayer.' She looked down awkwardly for a second as she mentioned Buffy.

Did you never wonder when we work together every day?' She finished fiercely, staring into his eyes.

Angel had wondered. He wondered every time she leaned close to him and he could smell her scent, her own scent, mixed with shampoo and perfume. He wondered every time he furtively enjoyed her hands on him when she dressed his wounds. He was wondering now, with the muskiness of her arousal fuzzing his brain, when you counted it up, he had wondered a hell of a lot.

Cordelia touched his arm. It was an awkward gesture but her body-heat seemed to seep through the tips of her fingers and spread across his skin. He wanted to feel more of it, to be enveloped by it. He moved a step closer to her, lifting her hand and kissing the palm.

'I think we both need this.' She whispered as if speaking too loud would scare him off.

'Are you sure?' He said, squeezing her hand.

She squeezed back by way of response. 'Come with me, this rooms a little public.'

Cordelia looked down; suddenly shy, as she led him by the hand down the side of the throne. She pulled back a heavy curtain and opened a low door, indistinguishable from the surrounding panelling. He stooped to follow her into a small chamber dominated by a large day bed covered in purple velvet. Along one wall were a series of narrow open windows which were letting in shards of bright sunlight. He stood for a minute squinting.

'Hey big guy, having second thoughts?' Cordelia was watching him closely almost anxiously.

'No, it's just I've never made love in the sun before-not even when I was human.' He moved closer to her and brushed a stray tendril of hair from her face.

'Angel when you say make love…we're just friends taking advantage of a situation here, right? It's not like…She trailed off awkwardly.

'It is what it is. Let's not think about it too much.' He said, holding her chin and running his thumb along her bottom lip.

They kissed again. This time he took the lead, making it slower, deeper. Cordelia pushed the shirt from his shoulders and reluctantly broke away to breathe. Her scent had intensified, making him feel almost lightheaded.

'Can we lose the John McClane now too?' She said, running her fingernails over his still covered chest.

'The what?' He looked confused.

She tugged at the grimy vest.

'Uh, Die Hard? If we get back to our dimension we're having movie nights.'

Angel shed the vest and sat on the edge of the bed pulling her into his lap. As her heartbeat pounded in his ears he felt her warmth spreading through him and he was conscious, almost uncomfortably conscious, of her blood moving in her veins. He suddenly realised she was still wearing the scratchy bikini top and impatiently tore it off. It fell to the floor in two pieces.

'Two hundred and forty something and you can't unhook a bra?' She said as he swung her round and laid her down on the bed.

Angel set about removing what was left of her clothes. His fingers dragged over her slowly, while he kissed and licked patches of skin he found irresistible, the top of her foot, back of her knee. His teeth lightly grazed her taut nipples, she moaned, arching towards his mouth.

Angel took a moment to drink in how she looked, lying naked in a shaft of sunlight, before he started to kiss along the inside of her thigh. He knew the guards could burst in at any minute but he had to taste her there, her scent was driving him crazy. Running his tongue along her opening he heard her breath catch and her pulse quicken. It wouldn't take much to push her over the edge. He began a slow rhythm with his tongue on her clitoris, feeling the knot of nerves swell and tense. He loved this, could do it for hours but this time that wouldn't be necessary, her hips soon started to push up to meet him. His hands, resting on her belly, felt her muscles contract strongly as she cried out in release.

Angel felt a glow of satisfaction. He took, used to take; a pride in making sure women came. Even Angelus gained his own sick satisfaction from that sometimes, back in the days where no one had heard of the female orgasm. Often the easiest, safest, way to feed was seduction, Darla had taught him that. On more than one occasion he had fed from a woman so full of endorphins from a climax she barely seemed to feel the fangs break the skin – at least for a few seconds.

He suddenly felt Cordelia's hand in his hair.

'So, are you ready for me to return the favour?' She licked the corner of her mouth suggestively.

It was a tempting offer. He suspected, however, that they were running out of time. Sooner or later someone would want to see the princess and he could not bear the thought of this thing ending without him having been inside her.

Cordelia was now sex personified. She looked at him with wide, dark, eyes, clouded with lust. Wisps of her tousled hair stuck to the sheen of sweat on her skin which now had an almost ethereal glow in the sunlight.

'I want to make love to you, before we get caught in here.' He said, thinking he would almost rather be caught by the guards than Wesley. A few green demons he could cope with but weeks of withering looks and cutting remarks from a pissed off British guy – that was a disturbing thought.

'Works for me.' She stretched out luxuriously.

Angel removed the rest of his clothes, his hands shaking with anticipation. Cordelia watched him, hungrily, though he noticed her suppress a smile.

'What?' He said, a little anxiously.

'It's just… OK, know that I am not saying this because I think it's what you want to hear but you are a little bigger than I've had before.' Her eyes rested on his impressive erection.

Angel smiled bashfully; if he had been capable of blushing he would have done it now. Though she was right, it was always, good to hear, vampire, champion, whatever – he was still a man under it all.

He lay down on the bed beside her and started to slowly kiss along her jawline and down her neck. She tilted her head back sighing. He knew what a gesture of trust it was to bare her neck to a vampire, even a 'tame' one like him. He also knew he had to be careful; she was, compared to Buffy and Darla, fragile. He couldn't lose control-not completely.

He gently moved on top of her and she adjusted herself around him, her thighs grasping at the outside of his, urging him forwards. He slid himself easily all the way inside her, delighted by how wet she was for him. He paused for a minute to savour the sensation, the flicker of her pulse against him deep inside made him a little harder. She trusted him so completely and he could hurt her so easily, the idea suddenly made him frightened to move-to make love to her‑ at all. He could feel her impatient below him but he was still, holding her hips motionless with one hand. He rested on his other arm as he kissed her forehead.

'You're teasing.' She writhed against him with frustration, panting.

'I don't want to hurt you.' He whispered in her ear.

She dragged his face round to look into hers.

'Hey – you're not going to hurt me. I'm tough, vision girl remember?' She looked at him serious, open, honest.

Anyway, you're not that big.' She smiled eyebrows raised.

Cordelia always knew how to take the edge off an awkward moment.

He released her hips and started to move, gently rocking inside her. Cordelia wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs pushing herself onto him, encouraging him to go harder, deeper. She circles her hips, taking as much of him inside her as she could, rubbing her clitoris against his pubic bone, desperately trying to come again. She knew, as he did, they couldn't do this again. Or at least that if they did his soul would be on the line.

He felt himself get close. He knew she could feel it too. She flattened her palms on his back, her thighs grasping his with a strength, an intensity, that surprised him.

'Come for me Angel.' She breathed, pressing herself to him with every available inch of skin.

'You first.' He said, his long sensitive fingers reaching between them to stroke her clitoris, which was still sensitive from the last climax. He felt her begin to contract and spasm around him. His own climax followed soon after, he sighed as he emptied inside her.

He collapsed on top of her as she hugged him with all four limbs.

They lay like that for a few minutes. Angel closed his eyes enjoying the scent of her and the sun on his back. She sighed contentedly. Pylea wasn't all bad, not when it had given them this.

'Cordelia!' The shout from outside the door startled them. Wesley's voice.

'Cordelia! We have to go!.' They looked at each other for a second before springing off the bed. Desperately trying to find and put on their clothes.

'Angel, I'm going to need your shirt.' Cordelia whispered, holding up the ruined bikini top.

'We're in here.' She shouted reluctantly once they were both presentable, opening the concealed door.

Wesley charged into the room, sword in hand.

'What happened?'

'There was a fight.' Angel said simply, looking down.

'We should go now. Cordelia, Gunn's outside alone take him this.' Wesley handed her an axe.

Cordelia took it and gladly darted from the room.

Angel made to follow but was stopped short as Wesley flicked the tip of his sword up to Angel's eye level. A wisp of shredded, sequined material dangled from it.

'Quite a fight.' Wesley said pointedly.

As he left he turned to give Angel a patented Wyndam-Price withering look.

'

'