Title: Pacing

Author: Rachel

Category: BtVS/Angel

Pairing: Buffy/Angel

Disclaimer: Joss owns everyone, I own nothing but the idea. I'm simply taking them out to play with.

Distribution: Ask please

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Post-The Dark Age, before WML Notes: Written for the 144 Challenge.

Feedback: Is loved and much appreciated :)

"She's so evil... and she's only in high school! Just imagine what damage she'll do in the real world," Buffy huffed, finally flopping down next to Angel on his bed. Her rants about her day at school had become a part of their routine the last few nights; everything from Willow's most recent academic achievement, (and subsequently, her own academic failure), to the new and ever rising levels of Cordelia Chase's evil.

To her Mother's knowledge, she was sleeping over at Willow's house for the sake of extra math cramming, which hadn't been a totally lie. She had intended to spend the next few nights at Willow's while she was in the process of getting the tattoo removed, and get all nice and mathy at the same time. There were a few things worse than death, and spending another year with Snyder was one of them, so there could be no flunking of math.

Except she couldn't focus

Sure, there was the constant burning/searing on the back of her neck that would've made a normal person scream, but she was a slayer, she could take it... kind of. The thing that was really on her mind was Angel; she'd only be able to admit to Willow, while yelling at her for it, how scared she was. The whole Eyghon incident had opened her eyes to how vulnerable Angel could be. When your boyfriend's immortal you pretty much think he's... well... immortal, as long as no slayer comes along to stake him (which wasn't happening since she was the only slayer and there was no way she was going to even think about ever doing that), he doesn't trip and fall into a tree branch and he got home before sunrise, he'd be okay.

She'd forgotten about all the other things that could kill him, and now it was all she could think about. After an hour near studying with no results or information absorbed, Willow insisted that the blonde go check on Angel, even though the redhead knew that Buffy had already been there at least once before that day. And so began their tradition.

She showed up every night at the same time for the past week, first taking care of him, and then telling him about her day until he fell asleep. (Whether he wanted to admit it or not, the fight with Eyghon had taken a lot out of him). She'd stay up and study or go out slaying, although she rarely did the latter because Angel didn't want her out hunting alone, which warmed her heart in a way she could not express with words. Most nights, though, she sat up and watched him sleep until she began to drift off herself. And every morning, she would find herself in his bed, alone, with him either on the floor or the couch.

Tonight, however, things were different, he was feeling better and managed to stay awake during her school day rant and was now looking at her strangely. They hadn't really touched since that night on Halloween, they'd held hands and kissed and she'd taken care of him, but they hadn't been... close, at least not the kind of close that involved them, together on a bed, like they were now...

Oh boy.

"Buffy, I..." he started, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over them. He was so humbled by her; not since his mother had anyone cared about him, let alone cared for him. He wanted to express his complete gratitude, tell her his true feelings, that he was madly, head over heels in love with her, and that he would do anything in his immortal power to prove it to her. He couldn't make the words come out, maybe because it was too much for her to hear, or maybe he was just a chicken. "I just wanted to thank you for taking care of me this week, you didn't have to and it means a lot to me that you did."

Against her will and her fears, she shifted closer to Angel and cupped his face in the palm of her hand. "You don't have to thank me, I was glad to do it. I got spend time with my boyfriend and got Mom avoid-age at the same time. There's no bad there." She smiled slightly, warming his heart. He moved her hand from his cheek and took it in his own, lacing their fingers together.

"I know, but thank you anyway." He paused for a moment, looking down at their joined hands and couldn't remember which fingers were his or hers. "How's your neck?" He'd been so out of it that he hadn't had a real chance to ask her. Shame filled him; She was taking time away from saving the world to make sure he felt better and he couldn't even keep his eyes open long enough to ask her how she was doing.

"It's okay," she promised, answering both his question and his unspoken brooding. She could always tell when he had surges of guilt; his shoulders would slump, he'd lose eye contact with her, his voice would be quiet and remorseful. Even more scary, she just knew when something was up with him, she could feel it somewhere deep inside her, past her mind, past the Slayer. It was something deep rooted in her soul.

"It's still a little stiff and achy, but we're past the constant pulsing pain, so yay me." she said with mock enthusiasm. "My last session was earlier, he didn't want to do it all at once because of where it was. The guy was surprised that I healed so quickly, said he'd never done one as fast as he did mine."

"Can...can I see? Just to make sure it's okay." He almost loathed breaking their hands apart, but he needed to know that she was okay.

He was asking permission for close, intimate contact. Her fears bubbled up in her stomach, but she couldn't find it in her to say no. She let go of his hand and shifted around so she sat at a slight angle with her back to him. She reached move her hair clip, but he beat her to it, taking her hair and sweeping it up perfectly and clamping the clip. Once her neck was exposed, he could see the white gauze patch covering the wound. Gently, he pulled down the top corners, revealing where the marking had once been.

"It's fine," he said softly, "it's barely red anymore." His cool breath on her neck sending pleasant chills down her spine. She wanted to moan out loud from the moment he touched her, it had been so long...

"Angel..." Fear spiked in her scent and he almost immediately pulled away. His hands went to her arms, soothing the shudders that ran through her body.
"Buffy?" he questioned softly. Her cheeks burned red with shame and her mouth was suddenly unable to form words. If she told him she wasn't ready for sex, he'd thinks she was a big baby; if she didn't, she might not be able to live with herself. "Baby, what's wrong? Is it your neck? Does it still hurt? Just tell me and I'll try to make it better."

She bit her lip as tears welled in her eyes; she didn't want to disappoint him, but she feared that what she would do no matter want she said. "Angel, I'm not... that is, I'm not ready to..." She sighed and gathered her thoughts. "I know that after Halloween you're probably expecting something from me, something that I want to give you, but I can't... yet. Not that I don't want to," she rushed to add. "I'm just not ready, you know?"

She risked a shy glance over her shoulder, ignoring the minor twinge in her neck, only to meet Angel's totally confused expression.

"Expecting? Buffy, I'm not expecting anything from you," he said, somewhat baffled that she would even think that.

She blinked and turned her body more toward him. "You're not? I mean, guys normally expect certain things from a girl after they did what we did." She blushed as she thought of her wanton behavior. There had been moaning and touching, and begging, lots of begging. "And you being the two hundred plus vampire you are, probably don't want some school girl giving you blue balls." Her cheeks looked like fresh tomatoes and she ducked her head. "It's just–"

"No, no, no." He cut her off, and lifted her chin with his fingers, even as her eyes still looked down to the bedspread. "I only want what you're willing to give me, nothing more. What happens between us will happen when you're ready for it, not before, and certainly not because you think have you to." Her eyes looked up at him, as if challenging what he had just said. "I know what happened on Halloween night was... fast, and if I pushed you, I'm sorry. I will never push you, or rush you. I know you're not ready, hell I'm not sure I am, but I'm okay with us taking it slow." He brushed his thumb over her cheek. "Okay?"

"Okay." She sniffled. "You didn't push, I just didn't know..." she trailed off,

"I know," he said with his half smile. He pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. Instinctively, she tucked her head under his chin, in her spot, and relaxed into him as his fingers danced over her skin.

"So," she started, playing with the buttons on his shirt. "You're really okay with this whole 'going at Buffy's pace' thing?"

He kissed the top of her head and ran his fingers through her golden tresses. "I am."

"So if I wanted, say kisses." She looked up at him shyly through her eyelashes, "you'd be okay with that?"

He pulled back enough to look into her eyes. Dropping a kiss on her nose he smiled "I think I can handle that one," he said, his lips just inches from hers.

"Good," she murmured softly as she threaded her fingers into his soft, spiky hair and pulled him close for a kiss.