The Honeymoon – December 4-5, 2004
It wasn't a particularly exciting honeymoon destination; they didn't have a wonderful trip overseas planned or a lush tropical vacation scheduled. They had both decided they shouldn't bother spending a ton of money going on some outrageous trip if they were just going to spend 90% of it in bed.
Angel had rented the honeymoon suite at 'The Royal' which happened to be Cleveland's biggest and most luxurious hotel.
They hadn't bothered to change out of their wedding attire; they both found the outfits extremely alluring and wanted the pleasure of undressing the other. Sort of like the excitement of opening a wrapped gift, half the fun was peeling off the paper to get to the goodies inside.
"Congratulations" were said from nearly everyone they passed on the way to their room, but they barely heard half of them. They were too involved in one another to even notice.
...
Buffy ran her hands over Angel's smooth muscled chest. Sometimes she couldn't remember what he'd felt like as one on the undead, his warmth was such a welcomed feeling by now.
As she looked down at his body, she smiled to herself. Almost nothing had changed since she first glimpsed the pale flesh of his skin 8 years ago. He had still been a vampire then, but she hadn't known that yet. To her, he was just some extremely handsome, adept annoying, young man that showed up at the right place and the right time. He'd fought by her side and been injured as a result.
She had told him innocently enough to remove his jacket and his shirt as she fetched some medical supplies. And when she returned, god had the sight of him made her knees weaken. He was amazing; the definition in that body, the muscles and perfect skin, the angles of his cheeks, and the intensity of his eyes. Even then, back when she had still been so innocent, he made her panties moisten.
Now, he was the same.
That still amazed her. She had changed so much since 1997, at least she thought so. But Angel? He looked no different from that day in 1630 Revello drive, when she was sixteen and he had a gash across his ribs. The only difference now? His skin was no longer cold and pale with death; it was warn and tanned with life. His chest wasn't still; it rose and fell with breath. His heart was not quiet; it beat with the rhythm of their recent passion.
He still made her panties wet when she saw him, or at least he would if she were wearing any.
...
She was surprised her wedding dress wasn't torn into pieces by the time they were finally alone. Somehow they'd kept their lust in check, at least until the dress was off. Once free of the gown, she'd pounced on him like she were a hungry dog, and he the bone.
The sexy lacy white strapless bra and matching panties hadn't fared so well. There were pieces of them leading a trail to the bed; one persistent strand had even made it under the sheets with them earlier.
His outfit hadn't faired well either, there would be hell to pay with the rental company…but that wasn't even remotely on either of their minds.
She had bought a wedding night outfit, a silky white see though baby doll nighty that hung open along her swelling belly, but the idea of putting on clothes at the time was kind of ridiculous.
That was over an hour ago, some of their pent up desire was spent, but only some.
He was beneath her at the moment; she was straddling his abs, running her fingers along those wonderful toned muscles. His hands were caressing up and down her thighs, flirting with her rump, running his long fingers against the smooth skin. His eyes, half-lidded, almost drunkenly staring up at her exposed chest. A little smile of contentment on his face.
She bent forward and ran her lips along his collarbone, her blond locks falling against his face, tickling his cheek.
"You know, the honeymoon traditionally lasted an entire month." He suggested as he traced his fingers up her side and along her back.
She shivered under his touch, but he'd always done that to her. She used to think it was because his hands were cold, but they were warm now, and she still shivered under his caress.
"Are you suggesting we have a month long honeymoon?" she asked as she kissed up his neck.
He grinned against her, "I was actually thinking more like forever."
"Forever huh?" she asked with a smirk, "What would we do with ourselves for all that time?'
He chuckled, "I could handle this for a millennium or three."
"This?" she replied kissing his neck.
"Or this?" she asked a little more suggestively while kissing his ear.
"Or this?" she finished kissing his lips.
"All of the above." He answered as his hands wandered to her breasts.
...
She pushed at his arms, "Over your head." She suggested with a gleam in her eyes.
"Why?" he asked with a smirk. He had been enjoying using his fingers on her nipples a moment ago, she look as if she had been too.
"You'll see." She answered cryptically.
He obeyed, clasping his hands together and holding the bar across the metal headboard.
She ran her hands along his stretched skin, trailing kisses as he does so often to her, but instead of starting up and heading down, she started at his navel and climbed upwards.
He closed his eyes at the sensation, loving the feeling of her crawling up his body as she was. Her nipping at his nipple sent a wave of desire through his groin. He felt her continue up, kissing his neck, his jaw, finally his lips. He kissed back with eagerness.
It was hard keeping his hands holding onto the bar behind him.
He felt her fingers crawl up his arms, massaging the muscles and moving to his hands. He felt something fuzzy brush his wrists, then the click of metal.
Her tongue in his mouth had occupied him for a moment, but now he realized it had been a purposeful distraction.
He stopped kissing back and tilted his head to look up at his hands. His wrists were surrounded by soft, fuzzy leopard print handcuffs.
He looked at her with a questioning glance. "Umm…do you just handcuff me to the bed?"
Buffy sat back on him, giving him a full view of her bare body and no way to interact with it. "Maybe." She answered vaguely, a sly smile of her lips.
He tried to pull his hands out of the cuffs, superhuman strength no match for thin metal, he thought. After a moment, found he couldn't break the lock.
"Their enchanted." She explained, "They cancel-out the strength of whoever wears them. To those cuffs, you might as well be a wad of wet tissue paper. So you're trapped here until I say the magic words to release you."
He felt a pang of worry here.
"And why exactly and I handcuffed again?" he asked, not sure he was happy about this. 'Cancel my strength? Wet tissue? I can't get out? Does she actually think with her lying naked in this bed, I'll voluntarily leave on our honeymoon? No chance in hel!''
"Oh, I don't know." She said crawling against him, her body rubbing a very stimulation place of his anatomy.
A moan of pleasure escaped his lips.
"Maybe because someone decided to run off on our wedding day?" She offered in a 'I never forget' sort of tone.
'Fuck. Ok, I knew she'd be mad about the wedding...but take it out on me?'
He shook his head, "Ok that's unfair, if I didn't there would have been no wedding! Hellmouth opening? Apocalypse? Besides, you're pregnant, I'm not about to drag my unborn off to a major battle. I swear, I wouldn't have thought twice about bringing you if circumstances were different."
She nodded her head, "I know the facts." She leaned down to his ear. "That's why you're not also wearing a gag...I'm still debating on the blindfold." She whispered to him. 'Although…I might need to try that later.'
'Gag? She has a gag!? What is this? When did my wife turn into a dominatrix?'
He stuffed his 'fear?/excitement?' down and looked at her curiously, "Where were you hiding these? And better yet, where did you get them?"
They had been in bed for a few hours now, she didn't have then in the bed, or stashed on herself. Plus she didn't own handcuffs, at least he didn't think she did. This was new.
She grinned and leaned down against him, her breasts pressing teasingly against his chest. "You'll never know where I hid them, but I'll tell you I got them in a kit from Faith, for my bachelorette party."
'I should have known, me and her, we're having a 'talk' next time we meet.'
He felt the metal around his wrist and saw the gleam of mischief in Buffy's eyes.
'If I live that long.'
...
She resumed her slow and steady torture. Pressing her body against his, kissing his skin, tracing her fingers along his tanned and untanned flesh.
All the while, he couldn't touch her back.
She would kiss his lips but not let him kiss back. Rub herself in his most sensitive places, but not give him release.
Buffy had a feather teaser. Things would have been much easier for him had he still been dead, he never used to be ticklish...but that was the past.
…
She looked down at him; his eyes were shut, brow furrowed slightly, his lips parted as he breathed huskily from her actions. Pleasure of her touch, but almost pain from not being able to respond showed clearly on his features.
"Maybe I'm being too hard on him, it's not like he didn't want to marry me. The world was in mortal jeopardy."
Before she could relent and give him release he bucked his knees up, pushing on her rump and she fell forward, he caught her lips in a hungry kiss as she landed on his chest.
His pent up desire wouldn't be denied much longer.
She kissed back eagerly, silently wondering if she should punish or reward the action.
He didn't give her time to choose.
Despite his hands being cuffed to the bar running along the middle of the headboard, he still had some freedom in his wrists.
Catching her off guard, and using a little super human strength and agility, he spun. Apparently the cuffs only canceled out power directed towards breaking free of them, he wasn't trying to get out.
With his hands holding the bar, he flipped her beneath him (being mindful of her tummy) and used his body and the intensity of the kiss to push her up the headboard, successfully trapping her within his arms. The cool metal of the headboard rested against her back and he pressed his warm chest against her from the front. His hands chained around the mid of her back to the bar.
If someone had walked into the room at the moment it would almost look like he were praying to the wall behind the bed.
"Now what?" he asked with a victory smile as he kissed her neck and held her tightly.
She jumped up; wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms snaked around his neck as he knelt in front of her and the headboard.
'Well he did manage to trap me while cuffed to the bed… that deserves a reward for creativity'
She adjusted her body and gave him silent permission to enter.
He took advantaged immediately, his sword of arousal slid perfectly into her awaiting sheathe.
They both moaned as pleasure overtook them.
If there had been people sleeping in the room next door; they would not have slept that night with the banging of the headboard against the wall.
It was a wonder they didn't break the bed.
...
Buffy slowly awoke. She was laying on Angel's chest, as always, a little smile slid across her lips at the thought.
The room was lightening, suggesting she had fallen sleep some time ago and morning had arrived. She felt a chill from the room and wondered why Angel's arms weren't blanketing her as usual. She looked up and discovered why.
"Oh no!" she gasped and sat up when she realized she'd fallen asleep with her new husband still handcuffed to the bed.
She had only originally planned to keep him cuffed for at max an hour, but he'd intervened and those plans had fled quickly from her mind as outrageous amounts of passion replaced them. It had to have been at least 5 hours since then if it was this late in the AM.
He stirred beneath her as her movement roused him. He groaned as sleep drained from him.
"Angel? Are you ok? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to leave you…hanging like this." Buffy apologized as she tried to remember the incantation to release the cuffs.
He grinned, remembering he hadn't found the cuffs all that inconvenient. "It's alright. I've been in worse cuffs for longer." He admitted. Lovers and enemies alike stringing him up came to mind; there were dozens of times, not all of them negative. "At least these don't chafe."
She said the words and the cuffs opened.
He gasped in pain a moment when his arms fell from the open restraint. The blood flowing back onto his muscles sent a spasm of pins and needles throughout his nerve ending.
"I'm sorry." Buffy begged against his cheek as her hands worked to relieve the muscle aches in his shoulders.
He turned his head and kissed her forehead. "I'm not."
She pulled back from him so she could look into his deep brown eyes. "You're not mad I left you imprisoned for 5 hours?" she questioned.
He chuckled, "Well sleeping wasn't exactly comfortable, but the parts when you were awake were pretty amazing."
"Why didn't you wake me? I could have released you." She asked laying back down against him.
"You looked so peaceful." He admitted.
She shook her head, "You chose staying chained because you didn't want to wake me?" She asked both amused and angered.
"Truthfully, I fell asleep too. You did kinda wear me out." he finished with a grin and a kiss to the top of her head.
"Really? I wore you out? That's new." she laughed, "Usually I'm the one giving you the 'go to sleep' glare."
He pulled his still tingling arms around her and held her tight. "You weren't also hung-over the day before or had to fight demons and an apocalypse wielding army."
"Hey, I fought too! From a distance with a crossbow, but I was there...and it wasn't an army...only like...30 or so...or 40...I forget. I was a little busy trying to keep my husband-to-be from becoming a few inches shorter from the neck up." She defended.
"What would I do without you?" he said nuzzling her neck.
She sighed contently at his actions, "Lose you head." she mumbled.
He grinned and kept kissing her. "Can't have that."
"No, then we couldn't do this." she breathed as they kissed deeply.
Not long after, the kissing led to something less 'innocent'.
...
"We're married now" Buffy stated as they lay close together.
He made a noise of agreement.
"...and it's our first day as husband and wife."
"It is." he agreed.
"Shouldn't we do something to celebrate?" she asked turning to face him.
He raised an eyebrow, "I thought we were." he smirked.
She batted his wandering hand from her skin, "Not like that...well yes like that...but other than that. You know what I mean?"
"You want to do something special, outside the bedroom?" he questioned.
"Yes! Exactly." she agreed.
"Such as?" he asked.
She looked puzzled, "Hmm, I don't know. What time is check-out? Did we miss it?"
"Doubtful." he answered cryptically.
"Why? It can't be that early...see clock says 11:29am."
"I may have booked the room for a week."
She looked up at him a moment, then a big smile spread across her lips. "A week? As in 5 whole days to spend here...with you...alone?"
"Unless you prefer someone else." he joked back.
She bend forward and kissed his lips, "No way, ring proves it, you're mine."
"I'm yours." he agreed.
Of course her morning sickness chose that moment to flair up.
...
She jumped off the bed and fled into the bathroom, hand pressed firmly to her mouth to keep the impending projectile from blazing a trail to the toilet.
He followed a few steps behind.
Kneeling beside her, he held her hair back as she emptied what little remained in her stomach, which would have been chicken cordon blue and wedding cake.
When she finished he rubbed her back. "Are you alright?" He asked, worry thick on his tongue.
She collapsed against him after flushing the mess away, "Uhh...I hate that part."
"I'm sorry." he automatically replied, thinking it was his fault, he put her in that situation.
"Don't go have a brood fest on me now. Thankfully it only happens occasionally."
He picked her up and rested her on the sink counter.
A glass sat on the counter and he filled it with water so she could rinse the unpleasant taste from her mouth.
After she rinsed, he dabbed at her face with a cool wet facecloth.
"Better?" he asked.
"Much." She agreed, and then lifted her head to look over his shoulder. A mischievous smile spread across her lips, "I think I found something special to do."
He sent her a questioning glance and looked over his shoulder.
Against the wall was a very large Jacuzzi tub.
"I thought you said you wanted to do something special outside the hotel room." He teased.
"No I said something outside the bedroom, this is the bathroom, it counts." She clarified.
He grinned.
...
The water was heaven. Angel closed his eyes and let the heat of the water sooth the tension from his still sore arm and shoulder muscles. The pain was nothing compared to when Cerberus's brother imprisoned him, left him hanging in a cell in a cold wet dungeon for days, this pain was nothing more than an annoyance really.
Buffy half-swam over to him and for a moment he pictured her as a mermaid. Long blond hair sticking alluringly to her wet skin, bare breast bobbing on the surface, nipples stiffened from the heat. Of course the next line would leave the lower half of her anatomy a fish...that image didn't leave much to be desired. He was more than happy with her being human.
...
"I take it you're feeling better." He told her as she floated just above his lap.
"Mmm, this is perfect." She answered as she looped an arm around his neck and pulled herself closer.
His arms reeled her in. "Almost." He said then kissed her passionately.
She giggled and kissed back with interest.
After a few minutes of kissing he broke from her lips and kissed a trail around her neck, then slowly began to kiss down her body. When he got to the waterline he vanished under.
She wondered what he was going to do when she felt his fingers and mouth pressing in places even her panties don't touch. She gasped and moaned as pleasure spread though her, sending waves of tingling from head to toe.
After a few moments, she realized he didn't seem interested in stopping. She also knew he couldn't breathe down there.
With a great deal of regret, but overpowering worry, she reached under the water and pulled him back up.
He gasped and took a few deep lungfuls of air, obviously disappointed he couldn't finish his task. "That was easier when I didn't have to breathe." He mumbled disheartened.
"Well you do now, so I would greatly appreciate if you didn't drown on our honeymoon. I hear it's bad luck in a marriage." She scolded playfully.
He grinned and resumed kissing her neck.
She noticed he always avoided the spot he bit her on her graduation day like it was poisonous. 'I'll have to ask him about that someday.'
...
Buffy began to sweat, the water was making her hot, (or was that Angel?), so she slipped from the turning water and sat on the edge of the tub, her feet resting on the submerged seat below.
He looked up at her with a smirk, drinking in her wet and naked form.
He swam up and knelled on the seat, bringing him to eye level with her. "Something wrong?" he asked, noticing she looked almost red.
"Water's a little on the warm side" she admitted.
He chuckled, "Isn't that the point?"
She nodded, "Yeah but...is it good for the baby? Somehow I think it's not."
He shook his head, "Don't know. Better safe than sorry though." He bent and kissed her slightly swollen belly.
A little growl of hunger escaped from under his lips.
Her cheeks reddened further. "Oops, I think we missed breakfast."
He chuckled, "Yeah, and lunch too by now." He turned and sat on the built in seat underwater, his back was to her but he was positioned between her legs, his head tilted back, resting in her inner thigh. He looked up at her, "Want to go out? Have dinner at one of the restaurants nearby?"
She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her cheek against his ear, "Does that require clothing? I'm not feeling like clothes wearing Buffy right now."
He grinned, liking that idea. "We could order room service?"
Her eyes lit up and she nodded in approval, "Lets, I'm just realizing I'm starving." She sobered, "This kid must hate me right now."
"She doesn't hate you." He urged as he squeezed her foot. "I'll grab the menu..."
"No, I'll get it. You're still wet, I'm a little dryer." She said quickly and disappeared before he could argue; her naked body stole any argument.
...
He had just wrapped a towel around his waist when she walked back into the bathroom, she frowned a little when she noticed he was partly covered up, the good parts anyways. She glanced at his chest and arms and eyes, 'Well not all the good parts.'
She was still walking about in her birthday suit. Angel didn't seem likely to complain.
"Anything good." he asked about the food selection as he glided up beside her.
"Everything sounds good." she answered, even more hungry now she was reading each tantalizing description.
They moved to the little table and chairs set in the large bedroom, Angel sat and pulled her down into his lap so he could read the menu over her shoulder as she held it open.
"Can we just order one of each?" she asked after a moment of indecision.
He grinned, "That's a lot of food beloved."
"Yeah, well I'm pregnant and you could eat a horse."
He held her a little tighter, "Anything you want." He promised.
...
They were sitting on the bed, a luxurious tray full of food on each side of them.
They were both wrapped in soft fuzzy white robes she found hanging behind the bathroom door.
She was half in his lap as he fed her a bite from his plate.
"Mmm" she said in instant approval and took the meal off his tray, "Just so you know, your not getting this back." She told him as she dug into the dish.
He frowned a little at the thought, whatever it was, it had been good. 'Well she is carrying my child, I guess it's the least I can do.'
He moved to another plate to sample.
They hadn't order one of everything, but they did order a lot. So far, it didn't look like anything would go to waste.
...
Some time later, the empty plates were back on the cart, the cups were liquid-less, and they were sufficiently stuffed.
"I know if you overfeed a goldfish their stomachs burst open...can that happen to people?" she asked as she lounged against her husband.
He grinned, "Not under these conditions, although it does sometimes feel like it."
"Uhh, that is an awful taste to burp up." Buffy mumbled to herself.
"What is?" he asked, knowing everything they ate had been absolutely delicious.
"That stupid prenatal vitamin, even with all this yum in my tummy, that's the flavor I get to re-taste."
"I'm sure she's thankful for it." Angel insisted.
"If I didn't crush her under all that food." She retorted, absently rubbing her little baby bump.
He kiss the top of her head, "Also not possible."
"Are you sure?" she yawned, knowing it wasn't, but enjoying the little chat. She was still working on getting him talking more, with great success even.
"Yes, I'm sure."
...
They were silent for a while, both half-asleep from being full and warm and content.
As Buffy rested her eyes she wondered about something Xander had said to her not long before the wedding.
...
"He asked you to marry him! Like man and wife, death do you part sort of thing? Man, the nerve of that guy." Xander exclaimed at the news when Buffy showed off her ring.
"What do you mean by that?" she demanded.
"Think about it Buffy, I'm only saying this in your best interest, but it's obvious he's only marrying you cus he knocked you up." Xander bomb-shelled.
"Xander! How could you say that!" She yelled at him.
"Think about it, you've been what, dating for 6 months; he never showed any signs of taking it further..." He was cut off.
"We bought a house together, which was his idea by the way." she shot.
"Ok, so he wanted to live with you, but take it from the word of a guy, living with a girl and marriage... two very different animals. I could handle living with Anya, but marriage...it was too much of a step. Think Buff, is it just coincidence he asked for your hand two weeks after you tell him you're carrying his kid?"
"It could be coincidence." she offered.
"Or" He continued, "That traditionalist mind decided 'oh she's pregnant, I guess I'll marry her to make it right.'"
Her hand fell to her barely visible bump. "He wouldn't do that." She told Xander solidly. In her mind she asked, 'Would he?'
"Yeah, I'm sure the month long engagement means nothing. People rush marriages all the time. Completely coincidence." He said sarcastically.
"Coincidence." She urged with a confident voice. Inside she frowned. 'Is it?'
...
As she lay there in half-consciousness, she began to wonder about Angel's motives again. The thought had been slashed in her mind at the time, but now it was slowly festering.
She pushed sleep away and turned her head to face him. "Angel, I have a question for you...and I expect an honest answer." She proposed, wondering if this was the right time to ask this but needed to know. 'Now or never.'
He awoke a little and furrowed his brow, "I've always given you an honest answer."
She sighed and sat up, "I know, it's just...well this is kind of a dicey question...I probably shouldn't have said anything."
"Little late for that now." he told her blandly, "What is it?"
"I've been thinking...someone I won't mention, said something to me and well...the idea's been bouncing around in my head for a while now it really needs to be addressed before it starts poking holes in my brain."
He sat up, understanding this was a serious question, leaned against the backboard and silently waited for her to continue.
"Did you...I mean I know you're a traditionalist an everything so...umm...did you only ask me to marry you because of the baby?" She almost winced as she asked.
His eyes widen as that dagger pierced his heart. He was speechless, floored by the question. After a moment he got his voice back, "God Buffy, how can you even ask me that?"
"I never planned to, I just...you asked me two weeks after you found out about the baby, and we were only engaged a month, by the way you have no idea how hard it is to plan a wedding in such short notice, and I know you like traditions..." She trailed and a few tears slipped down her cheeks. 'Damn hormones, stupid timing.'
The anger Angel was feeling melted away at her tears. "Don't cry Beloved." he told her as he pulled her against him.
She buried her face in his chest, she would have stayed like that, but his fingers slid under her chin and tilted her head up to look at him.
"Buffy, I asked you to marry me because I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you." he said sincerely while looking into her eyes.
"So it didn't have anything to do with the baby?" she asked, just to make sure.
He sighed, "Maybe a little, but not like you were thinking." He admitted.
She looked up at him, silently telling him to continue.
"I was going to wait, ask you when I'd been mortal for a year. I didn't want to ruin our relationship by pushing too far too fast. I was also still afraid I'd revert back to what I was...and that wouldn't have been fair to you." He said truthfully.
"Yeah, because a baby won't push our relationship too far, too fast." She retorted, sarcasm her auto-reply when stressed.
"I'm sorry you felt rushed, had you told me you wanted to wait to marry until after the baby was born, or any other time you wanted, it would have been perfectly fine with me. I only asked you when I did, because I wanted you to get the change to be a wife before you were a mother. I wanted it early enough so you could walk down the aisle without it feeling like a shot-gun wedding." He admitted.
He paused a moment to let his words sink in, then continued. "You're all I ever wanted Buffy. All I want now is to make you happy. If this isn't what you want..."
She cut him off, "It is, this is exactly what I want. I secretly did want to be a wife before I became a mom, and I really did want to walk down the aisle while still being able to see my feet. You did everything right." She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him to her lips, an apology kiss.
"I'm sorry I said that to you, I had no right." She told him when they broke apart.
"No, you had every right. I'm glad you did." he said as he held her close.
She look up at him, "Really?"
"Yeah, I want you to talk to me. Tell me when something is bothering you. This way we can address the issue and move on, stronger than we were." He told her as he ran his hand over her fuzzy robe covered arm.
"Take a glimpse in our history book; we're not really great at doing that." She sighed.
He grinned, "We have a lifetime together to practice."
She liked that answer.
"I have a problem that needs addressing." She told him seriously.
"What is it?" he asked, concerned something else was bothering her.
"Well, I'm on my honeymoon, and I as of yet to wear the sexy lingerie I bought for it." She finished with a gleam of mischief in her eyes.
He blinked at her a moment, "Well that is a problem. You'll need to get that on right away." he tried to keep a straight face, but the idea of Buffy in sexy lingerie was too distracting even for someone with his strength for stoicism.
"I'll be right back then." She said while getting off the bed.
"Sure you don't need help?" he offered with a sly smirk.
"If you 'help,' I'll never get it on." she accused.
"Probably." He admitted.
"You can help take it off." She promised.
"Defiantly."
...
As he waited for Buffy to change into her outfit, he thought back to Halloween, she had dragged him to a costume party with the Scooby gang, even forced him to wear a costume, under penalty of no sex if he refused.
...
"Are you going with me to the party?" She asked innocently.
"Yes." he answered, voice not betraying the dread he felt welling up inside.
"Will you dress up with me?" she probed.
"I will." he agreed.
"What will you go as?" she asked him.
"Whatever you want." he answered.
She grinned, "Good, cus I already bought you a costume."
"Great." he said with forced excitement.
"Don't be such a wet blanket." she said and swatted his arm.
"I know, it's just...I'm not into the whole party thing. Not to mention Halloween in general." He tried for pity.
She didn't buy it. "Your alive now, act it. Besides, I think this will be good for you, you need to experience the world outside my panties."
He made a face at that.
"Don't make faces at me, you'll do fine. Stop being such a worry wart." She pulled him down and planted a kiss on his lips. "Shower, change, we're leaving at 6pm."
"Yes dear." He said as thick as possible.
He was out of reach before she could retaliate for the comment.
...
An hour later he was standing in the living room and feeling like an idiot. He had spent the last twenty minutes telling himself he wasn't walking out the door like he was...the image shinning back in the bathroom mirror was too ridiculous to be seen in public.
'Well at least it's not something horrible like a hotdog.' He thought to make himself feel better. He would sooner have died, again, that wear that as a costume.
As he waited for Buffy to finish getting ready, he poked into the fridge to see if there were any leftovers to scrounge. There never was.
"Don't spoil your apatite." Her voice called from behind him.
He turned and felt his jaw hit the floor. If his eyes hadn't been attached, they might have fallen out too.
Buffy stood wearing a sexy Indian maiden costume. It was a short dress made of a raw-hide looking material; colorful bead work ran along the boarders of the dress and in two parallel lines down the front. The middle had a wooden bead belt and an embossed pale blue flower just under the navel. The bottom and chest of the dress and matching arm bands were fringed. A matching bead headband adorned her head, with a color matched feather. On her feet she had mid-knee length matching lace up boots.
She held up a little, but very real, tomahawk. "How." She said in a bad Native American accent.
After a moment of him not responding she added, "You might want to shut your mouth, I think dust is starting to build-up on your tongue." She put a finger under his chin and pushed up, closing his fallen jaw.
"Ready to go?" She asked, trying to snap him out of his frozen state.
"Huh, uhh...yeah." he replied dumbly, still staring at her.
"Not very cowboy sounding." she commented.
He glanced down at the outfit he wore again; blue jeans with fringed raw-hide looking chaps, matching fringe vest over a pale blue shirt, a red bandanna tied around his neck, a gun-belt with two toy pistols around his waist with a steer head buckle, one of his brown leather dusters, black cowboy boots on his feet and he felt the black leather cowboy hat on his head.
"Uh, comm'on lil doggie" he tried in a bad John Wayne voice.
She made a face, "Ok, how about neither of us does impressions." She suggested.
"Agreed." he replied eagerly.
...
They spent a few hours at the party; she danced with her friends as he watched her dance. They ate and talked, then she danced some more.
He realized when he went to wrap his arm around her shoulder and she pushed it off and stormed back to the dance floor, that she was mad at him.
'What did I do now? Or was it a 'what I didn't do'? I came, I dressed up...what else does she want from me?'
He watched her a moment, wondering if he should confront her about it. He noticed Oz and Willow were dancing together along with Xander and his date, Buffy was alone.
'That's why she's pissed at me, I didn't want to dance.' He felt bad, truthfully he still didn't want to dance, and he hated dancing. At least what these kids considered dancing. Back in his day dances were specific. Each beat had a certain dance move, a step, a twist, a turn...there was a pattern. Today, dancing was a vertical seizure.
He stood and wandered over to the DJ, "Hey, I was wondering, do you have anything...slower?" he asked hopeful.
The man turned to regard him, "What'd you have in mind? Somethin ta dance with your girl?"
"Yeah" Angel nodded. "She's mad I don't...dance...for these uhh...songs."
"Not your kinda music huh, man? What'd you prefer?" The dread-locked DJ asked.
"Nothing you have I'm sure." He answered; thinking classical was way out of the picture here.
"Should I be offended by that?" He asked, looking over the white boy standing in front of him with cautious eyes.
"What? No I didn't mean that! I just prefer 'old' music; classical, slow rock from the 30's to 70's, jazz. Not exactly party music." He said quickly to alleviate a 'race' issue.
The dark man regarded him and nodded, "Yeah, I don't bring it to gigs with me, but I do appreciate the classics. Tell you what, you can page through the book here, see if anything catches your eye."
He handed Angel a stapled packet of computer typed songs with artists.
Angel nodded, "Thanks."
After a few a minutes of reading unfamiliar titles, one appeared he recognized. A smile graced his lips, 'That's the one.'
...
When the current song ended, Buffy glanced over to the table Angel had been sitting at; she frowned when she noticed he wasn't there. She rolled her eyes, 'Probably went off to brood.'
She turned her attention back to her friends, "Great party huh guys?"
Willow smiled back, "The best." She said to her friend as they danced. Oz was standing just to her right, stoic expression as always, but if you looked close enough, you could see a smile in his eyes.
The couple were dressed as Samantha and Darrin Stephens from the 60's TV show Bewitched. They both were plain clothes, Willow a light late 60's dress with a blond wig, Oz had on a period suit and tie. Every now and again Willow would wiggle her nose and make something float or disappear. Oz would exclaim, "Oh Sam."
Xander and his date Debbie, were dressed as Superman and Louis Lane. After that year with the 'becoming your costume', Xander always dressed as someone with powers, just in case.
They were in conversation still when that song ended and another one began to play, one Buffy recognized immediately.
"Can I have this dance." She heard a familiar voice ask. She turned to find Angel behind her, hand extended to take hers.
She took it and slid up against him, his arm wrapped around her waist and she laid her head against his shoulder as they began to sway.
"I thought you hated dancing." She asked him.
He grinned, "Not the slow kind, I could dance like this with you all night."
She smiled and leaned closer to him, remembering the last time she heard this song. Prom, 1999. He showed up looking incredible in a tux, she wore a light pink prom gown. They dance to this song.
"Wild horses couldn't drag me away." He whispered along with the song.
Her anger was long gone.
…
When they got back to the house, they were already losing clothes by the time they reached the bedroom.
Before he could unzip her dress she pushed him back a little. "I've got a surprise for you." she teased.
"Can I get it later?" He asked, trying to get to her zipper.
She laughed, "I think you'll want it now."
"What is it?" he asked.
"See for yourself." She said, finally allowing him to unzip her dress.
Once the garment fell to the floor he stopped and stared at her a moment.
Under the Indian Maiden outfit, she had worn another Indian Maiden outfit, the later only suitable for bedroom use.
The barely there bra and thong set were made of fringed raw-hide…and nothing else.
Angel felt his pants tighten.
She spun, "You like?" she asking with a little added shake to get him going.
The thin fringe swayed, her stiff nipples playing a teasing game of peak-a-boo with Angel's eyes.
"I like." He replied, eyes glued to her unhidden curves.
"Why don't you come over here and say that." She teased.
Before she even realized he'd moved, they were laying on the bed, Angel atop her, kissing her madly. She could feel his arousal for her pressing alluringly against her from the confined of his jeans.
'Save a horse, ride a cowboy.' She thought as she rolled atop him.
…
Just then, the bathroom door opened and Angel was drawn back to the here and now by Buffy's form standing in the doorframe.
She wore a silky; tantalizingly see thought white babydoll nighty with matching thong. Her little baby bump poked out thought the split middle.
Angel swallowed the lump of desire in his throat…and it went straight down to his groin.
There was a repeat of Halloween night.
As they lay in bed after a fit of passion, she wondered, 'Why do I even buy outfits…he just rips them off me. Of course the look on his face when he sees me in them is worth the price every time.'
…