Buffy slumped in the shower cubicle letting cool water trickle over her
still warm face. She had been so intent on winning their fight and then so
pleased to have sort of won that she hadn't properly taken in their
compromising position. It was all very good in theory and daydreams but the
reality was slightly scary. Her fevered imagination had even conjured up
the sensation of that part of Angel pressing hard against her as she sat on
him. She had it so bad for him and had no idea what to do about it. She'd
ask Willow what to do if she didn't already know that her red-haired buddy
would just smile and sigh over her own brand new lover and tell her that
when the time was right it would just happen naturally. Helpful advice -
not!
As for Xander he would probably just explode over his Buffster wanting to do ooky things with the dead dude! Although Xander and Angel got along quite well, albeit with a lot of fairly good natured ribbing she still knew Xander didn't quite understand her love-affair with Angel and found the idea of her kissing what was essentially a corpse distinctly weird and if she was mad enough to talk to the others Oz would probably just give her a deep quote about destiny, Giles would polish his glasses clean away and stutter with embarrassment and as for Anya! Buffy cringed at the very idea of the sort of input she would receive from Anya. Nope, she'd just have to find her own way with the assistance of 'Cosmopolitan' when she and Angel went further.
Miserably she lathered her hair, Angel was over two and a half centuries old if you counted his human years too and that meant a whole lot of dating experience - and more. Was a clueless teenage virgin really going to excite him? She rinsed quickly not really wanting to dwell on that. Their kisses seemed to blow him away as much as they did her, but kissing was something she did have some practice at. She just had to focus on the fact that he loved her, and she loved him, after all that had to count big right? Maybe he'd be able to overlook her ineptitude in the name of true love. After all, everyone except nuns had a first time at some point.
She fumbled for a towel to blot her face and then wrapping it around herself stepped out into the bathroom, wet hair sticking uncomfortably to her neck and shoulders. Haphazardly she twisted it up into an untidy knot and had just set about cleansing streaks of eye makeup from her face when a knock sounded on the bathroom door. With a frown she swung it open and faced a still half naked Angel. She gulped and clutched the towel tighter, licking her lips in nervous appreciation, flushing at the memory of her thoughts of moments earlier, "Um, Hi Angel, am I late?"
He shook his head as he gently gripped her elbow and drew her towards the window, before she could stop him he had opened the shade and they stared out into the darkness of the day.
"The sun went black a few minutes ago," he told her gravely, "The others are already hitting the books."
Buffy shook her head in disbelief, "I'll get dressed and be right down."
He nodded assent and left her with a brief kiss.
Buffy flew into action, pulling clothes from her wardrobe. Not bothering to dry herself properly she shimmied into a denim skirt and red tank top before she glanced in the mirror, caught a glimpse of her hair and squawked in horror, Angel had seen her with that rats nest perched on top of her head! Quickly she rubbed her hair with the towel and then combed the damp strands back, packing it away neatly in a large clip. With a speedy dash of mascara and her feet jammed hastily into chunky sandals she sprinted from the room.
As for Xander he would probably just explode over his Buffster wanting to do ooky things with the dead dude! Although Xander and Angel got along quite well, albeit with a lot of fairly good natured ribbing she still knew Xander didn't quite understand her love-affair with Angel and found the idea of her kissing what was essentially a corpse distinctly weird and if she was mad enough to talk to the others Oz would probably just give her a deep quote about destiny, Giles would polish his glasses clean away and stutter with embarrassment and as for Anya! Buffy cringed at the very idea of the sort of input she would receive from Anya. Nope, she'd just have to find her own way with the assistance of 'Cosmopolitan' when she and Angel went further.
Miserably she lathered her hair, Angel was over two and a half centuries old if you counted his human years too and that meant a whole lot of dating experience - and more. Was a clueless teenage virgin really going to excite him? She rinsed quickly not really wanting to dwell on that. Their kisses seemed to blow him away as much as they did her, but kissing was something she did have some practice at. She just had to focus on the fact that he loved her, and she loved him, after all that had to count big right? Maybe he'd be able to overlook her ineptitude in the name of true love. After all, everyone except nuns had a first time at some point.
She fumbled for a towel to blot her face and then wrapping it around herself stepped out into the bathroom, wet hair sticking uncomfortably to her neck and shoulders. Haphazardly she twisted it up into an untidy knot and had just set about cleansing streaks of eye makeup from her face when a knock sounded on the bathroom door. With a frown she swung it open and faced a still half naked Angel. She gulped and clutched the towel tighter, licking her lips in nervous appreciation, flushing at the memory of her thoughts of moments earlier, "Um, Hi Angel, am I late?"
He shook his head as he gently gripped her elbow and drew her towards the window, before she could stop him he had opened the shade and they stared out into the darkness of the day.
"The sun went black a few minutes ago," he told her gravely, "The others are already hitting the books."
Buffy shook her head in disbelief, "I'll get dressed and be right down."
He nodded assent and left her with a brief kiss.
Buffy flew into action, pulling clothes from her wardrobe. Not bothering to dry herself properly she shimmied into a denim skirt and red tank top before she glanced in the mirror, caught a glimpse of her hair and squawked in horror, Angel had seen her with that rats nest perched on top of her head! Quickly she rubbed her hair with the towel and then combed the damp strands back, packing it away neatly in a large clip. With a speedy dash of mascara and her feet jammed hastily into chunky sandals she sprinted from the room.