The warmth in the air told her that dawn had come and it would be a hot day. If she'd asked Angel, he would have told her the exact moment the sun had risen, but Buffy hadn't spent the last two years as a vampire's girlfriend without learning a trick or two.

The tension in Angel's posture was another giveaway. He would deny it, of course, just like she would deny being unnerved by spiders and ancient prophecies that decreed her death.

"What?" he snapped, lifting the covers to get into bed with her.

Buffy turned the lamp off. "Nothing."