Part 13
After enjoying a delicious meal cooked by none other than Joyce and Dawn Summers, they watched a few movies that Buffy had unearthed from the back of the cupboard and finally went to bed at a little past midnight. Tomorrow would entail an early start (well, at least that was what was written in Giles' itinerary). Not exactly a pleasant notion for night owls like Spike and Faith.
However, there was never a doubt in anyone's mind that Spike would do almost anything to go to the Passions set, where Buffy had been able to get backstage passes due to Giles' connections with the producers. They'd also been pestering her to agree to guest star on the show—which she'd adamantly refused many times. They just didn't stop with the pester.
Buffy rubbed the sleep from her eyes and slapped the button on the top of the alarm to shut it up. **Fuck. If only every morning were so pleasant...not.**
Buffy squinted at the digital numbers displayed in blue from her limited edition Powerpuff Girls clock. She could imagine fans laughing over it. What could she say? She *was* a normal girl, after all.
Slipping on a pair of fluffy blue slippers, she started to head toward the door. Gazing around at her room, she frowned. **How'd it get so messy?** She picked up an armful of clothes and shoved them into her wardrobe, not really wanted to touch on the whole messiness issue. It was Saturday for goodness sakes. No room cleaning for Buffy.
Grabbing her robe from the hanger on the back of her door, she slipped it on and headed out the door. She dawdled to the end of the hallway, seeing as it seemed to already be occupied already anyway. **Shit! I'm busting, hurry up whoever it is! I need to pee!**
Not able to stay still, Buffy paced back and forth in front of the door. **Whoever it is, I'm gonna kill them. I know I could go to the bathroom downstairs or the one on the end of the hallway, but whoever it is—who shall be dead as soon as they get out—could very possibly be done before I reach another bathroom. Hurry up! I'm gonna—**
Buffy's thoughts were interrupted when she crashed into the person who'd occupied the bathroom while pacing and in deep and angered thought at the same time. The one whom she had cursing just moments before. It was obviously a man. Large, muscular chest, perfectly tanned, dripping wet from having had a shower, wearing only a towel...Buffy bit her lip at the sight. She meekly lifted her head to make sure it was who she thought it was. She found him smiling at her in amusement. **Oh God, I think I'm gonna pee my pants. He looks so yummy! And sexy, did I mention sexy? I better not have a trail of saliva running down the corner of my mouth. Fuck! He's so hot... Kill me now, but I may be in heaven already. A yummy heaven!**
"Enjoying the view?" Angel finally asked.
"Uh-huh..." Buffy said without even knowing what it was that he'd asked. She blinked, snapping her (slightly) out of her reverie. "I mean, what are you talking about?"
Angel just laughed, enjoying the opportunity to get an eyeful. No make up, messed up hair, in her Wonder Woman pyjama pants, a singlet top and a loosely tied satin robe. "Wonder Woman?"
"Hey! Don't mock Wonder Woman. I used to watch it all the time," Buffy defended herself. **You. Are. Busting. To. Pee. Go already! The only problem is moving...he's too hot for me to want to move.**
"I'm feeling a little underdressed, so I should, uh," Angel trailed off, not able to resist her lips. They looked so soft, so kissable. He brought a hand to tuck a loose section of golden hair behind her ear. **Good enough to nibble...although having a hard-on while dressed only in a towel is VERY not good, I can't resist...kissing her.**
His hand trailed down her neck and under her chin. He ran his thumb along her lip. It was perfectly moist, perfectly kissable. He tipped her chin up and lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was tentative at first, but it grew passionate, with Angel pressing her against him in their first real kiss. As they finally broke apart, Buffy's mouth flew agape.
"Wow, that was...uh..." she was literally speechless. She couldn't even say how amazing the kiss was. She'd been kissed before, but it never felt quite like this before. It was...incredible.
"Intense?" Angel suggested.
Buffy nodded, "It was incredible..."
"But...?" Angel asked, sensing that she had more to say than 'it was incredible' even though she was speechless.
"But I'm busting to go to the toilet," Buffy finally said, pushing past him to get into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
"Okay. That was new," Angel said to himself. Looking down, he was relieved to see that the towel was still in place. **Phew. How embarrassing would it have been if it came off? Ugh, I don't even want to think about THAT...**
*****
It wasn't until later on that Buffy had allowed herself to remember what had happened and found how stupid it must have seemed. Of course, hormones had taken over control at the time—not to mention, her bladder—and, thus, hadn't really been aware of her actions. Especially not after that kiss; she could go on for ages about how incredible it was, but then she'd only end up repeating herself.
**Enough about the new, embarrassing me though. Which dress should I wear? The pink, the purple, the blue or the yellow?** Buffy had four outfits spread out on her bed, each consisting of a different coloured dress (all different in design, of course), each with matching accessories—shoes, jewellery, bags and jackets and all that. Not being able to decide, she put one hand over her eyes and pointed her index finger towards her bed. She waved her arm in a figure-of-eight until she stopped the movement abrupt. Removing her hand from over her eyes, she found herself pointing at the purple dress. **Ooh, nice.**
Buffy glanced over at the clock. Just enough time to have breakfast and then get changed. Tossing the other three outfits onto one of her chairs and putting her jewellery back into her jewellery box, she headed downstairs toward the welcoming smell of bacon, eggs and toast. **Yum... Hmm, I wonder if mom got any ice cream for me... She knows how much I like that cookie dough fudge mint chip.**
Following her nose, she found Dawn, Gunn, Faith and Spike already eating and going about their business. Her mother was in the kitchen, frying the last of the pancake batter—assisted, surprisingly, by Angel. There was already a large stack of toast and pancakes on the dining table (though quickly being polished off by Spike and Gunn) as well as a plate of fried eggs and strips of bacon.
"Wow, what a way to wake up the troops. Where's Cordelia?" Buffy asked, taking a plate from the stack on the kitchen bench and taking a seat at the table. She grabbed a slice of toast, a fried egg, a few rashers of bacon and the remaining half-pancake that had survived Spike and Gunn's attack.
"Hogging the bathroom. Where else?" Spike answered cheerfully.
"Here's some more, kids," Joyce announced as she rested the two plates of freshly cooked food on the table. "Gosh, I haven't even eaten yet. Thanks to Angel, at least I'll get to eat some before I have to go to brunch with Lilah. Oh, and drop your sister off at her dance class." Joyce shot her daughter a Look.
"Sorry mom. I just figured you wouldn't have benefited from me and my klutzy ways," Buffy replied truthfully. "Besides, I saw you already had plenty of help," she smiled at her boyfriend, who, unfortunately, was now dressed. **Oh well, I still have a pretty good memory of what he looks like half-Monty and dripping wet. Hey! How come he has to be the only one who's properly dressed?** Buffy frowned and continued to enjoy her breakfast.
"Mo-om! Buffy ate the last of the bacon!" Dawn complained as soon as she noticed the last few pieces missing. "And it was good bacon, too...it wasn't burnt!"
"Ooh, breakfast," Cordelia said, barging in the room so suddenly that everyone almost dropped their cutlery.
"You should really try the orange juice," Faith commented, knowing perfectly well that it was sourer than a lemon. The rest of them laughed inwardly, knowing what Faith meant. "Really, it's got no artificial colours, flavours or preservatives." She took a glass and poured Cordelia a small glassful. "Here."
"Uh...okay," Cordelia said, taking the glass. She took a wary sip and made a face. "I think that maybe I've still got the taste of toothpaste in my mouth or something, but that does NOT taste sweet. Ugh, gross. Is there any coffee?"
"Sorry, ran out because Gunn had two cups and used the last of the good beans," Joyce replied, spreading out her newspaper innocently. She knew what Buffy's friends were up to—she decided that she didn't really like the girl either. In some ways, she was worse than Lilah. After the way she'd behaved at dinner the previous night and had acted during her stay with the Summers'.
"We're leaving in half an hour. You'll either have to eat normally and dress really fast, or eat really fast and dress normally," Buffy informed Cordelia. The rest of them were just about finished eating and she hadn't even sat down yet.
"Oh," Cordelia looked around as the rest of them rinsed their dishes in the sink, "well then Angel can keep me company. You know, seeing as he's already dressed."
Angel was just about to reply when Buffy grabbed his arm, "Can't. He's coming with me."
"Yeah, uh, Buffy promised to show me something," Angel covered lamely.
"Don't take too long," Joyce called out to her daughter and her friends.
"What was *that* all about?" Cordelia asked as soon as they were out of sight.
"Buffy hasn't had a boyfriend for about two years. You'll have to excuse her," Joyce replied, not taking her attention off her newspaper. "Would you like some *instant* coffee?"
*****
"So, why did you make me come with you?" Angel asked as soon as he heard the door click closed.
"What? Did you want to stay there and have a conversation with Cordelia?" Buffy asked in a surprised tone.
"Well, it would've been interesting—" Angel cut his sentence short. "Well, you sure aren't a neat freak." He blinked to see if it was his eyes that were playing with him. But sure enough, there were clothes and assorted things strewn around the room, books and CDs on the floor, a stack of Cosmopolitans in the corner with a small pile of soft toys on and around it and what looked like the strap of a bra sticking out from under a pile of clothes at the end of the bed; it was the messiest room he'd ever seen. Far worse than his and Spike's combined. As well as clothes, there were several sheets of lined binder paper on the floor with words scribbled in pencil on them.
"Yeah, Giles tells me off about it, too," she dashed around the room, trying furiously to neaten it up a bit. She tucked the bra strap underneath the pile of clothes and hung a few things up on hangers. Spotting a few sheets of paper, she frantically picked them up and shoved them into her desk drawer. She'd scribbled ideas on the paper for her next album—topics for songs, styles of music and a few lines of song lyrics. Okay, a few pages.
"Well I don't blame him if your room in Sunnydale is anything like this. And seeing that you don't even live here..."
"Don't tell him you said that. He'll chuck a happy," she replied, pulling the drapes shut over her windows. "I'm just always too busy." Buffy ran across to the other side of her room, but was stopped by Angel. "What?"
"Buffy, what are you doing?" Angel asked in confusion.
"Closing the blinds so no one will see us through the windows? Cos then they take pictures and put them in magazines and come up with nifty captions next to them saying something like 'Who's Buffy's new boytoy?'."
"Oh, well, I'll go if—"
"No, stay. You have nothing to do anyway...besides, I'm just getting changed," she picked up the dress from her bed and took it off its hanger.
"What—"
She shrugged off her robe and tossed it on her bed beside her perfectly planned outfit. Angel stared wide-eyed at her half-bare back. Well, at least until she turned around and he found himself staring at her breasts—covered, of course, by a flimsy pink singlet top. "Oh, I'm not changing right here. That's what the really big walk-in wardrobe is for."
Buffy emerged a minute later, dressed, but otherwise in a bit of a mess. "What do you think?"
Angel blinked; he still couldn't believe what he was seeing. Never in his wildest dreams would he have even considered that Buffy Summers would ask him about his opinion on what she was wearing. He snapped out of it with a slight shake of the head, "You know—"
"Bad? I'll go change."
"No, no, no. You look great. It's just that half the time I wonder if I'm asleep or awake because it—this—feels like a dream to me," Angel explained. "Like you're not really here and it's all just my imagination playing with my mind."
"Really?" Buffy asked, approaching him slowly. "Does this feel real?" She leaned in and captured his lips with hers, pulling him towards her in a fiery kiss. It was sweet and passionate at the same time, hot like fire, and achingly delectable. Neither wanted for it to end, but the need for air became an issue and were forced to break apart.
"Hell yeah," Angel replied breathlessly.
"Good. Now I just need to do my hair and put a little something on my face, so if you think you'll be bored, wait downstairs with...well, Spike. He's probably in hypermode."
"Somehow, I think it'd be better if I stayed here..."
*****
Later that day, after being bombarded by the people at the set of Passions (and the set of Passions being bombarded by Spike), Buffy and Co. decided to take a trip to Santa Monica beach. After all, it was a sunny day, they had wheels and they all had their beach gear—who *wouldn't* go to the beach. The itinerary Giles had prepared had said "1:00 – Lunch, 2:00-5:00 – Free time" anyway, what better way to spend four hours at the beach with a picnic lunch?
"Mmm...you smell good," Angel commented as he kissed her neck. "What is that?"
"Sunscreen," Buffy replied, putting on a pair of dark Jackie-O-like sunglasses and a floppy white hat that matched her bikini.
"Really? Sunscreen can smell nice?" Angel asked, wrinkling his nose up in confusion. Buffy just responded by giving him a kiss.
"You realise, we haven't even gone on a proper date yet and we've kissed already—several times."
"Yeah, but I thought that going to the Bronze after the game on Wednesday was pretty much considered as our first date. Unless..." Angel trailed off, not really knowing how to finish what he was saying.
"Well when you put it that way..." Buffy grinned. Angel leaned back and relaxed into the pillow-y softness of Faith and Spike's discarded towels. Buffy settled beside him and threw an arm over his chest, hugging him close and entwining one of her legs with his.
"You know, I'm gonna get a funny tan like this," Angel pointed out.
"So?" Buffy asked innocently. Angel chuckled and snaked an arm around her body to pull her closer. "Angel? This is the first time I ever really felt this way."
"What way?"
"Just like I've always wanted to. Like a normal girl, relaxing in the arms of her normal boyfriend. It's perfect." Angel didn't reply. He just kissed her on the top of her head and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.
**Déjà vu...**
This yummy, fluffy part is dedicated to all you readers. Not only those who review, mind you. I don't really mind if you don't review, but it is SO much better if you do. You know why? Cos I read them and what you tell me can reflect in what I write. You said to get them together? I got them together. Tell me!! (Cos I haven't got any clue what I should do...I can't write fluff for the rest of my life, that's for sure.) Also note that this part is considerably longer!!