Saturday afternoon

"I think you only have a beer fridge. How are we going to fit all this ice cream in there?" Buffy asked as they burst through the AI doors, laden with purchases.

"There's the fridge upstairs, too," Angel pointed out, setting down bags of groceries on the table. Cordelia and Doyle were nowhere to be seen, which suited Buffy just fine. "Let's get this down to your apartment," she suggested. Angel was busily trying to fit food into the fridge. "Why?" he asked, distracted, as she sidled up behind him and put her hands under his shirt, gently tickling his skin.

"We've eaten, we've shopped, but there are certain things I have not done with the human you that I'm very eager to try." She stood on her toes and whispered in his ear. He stiffened — in both senses.

"Buffy, we haven't really talked—" he said, melting under her touch. She blew in his ear and traced her fingertips up and down his neck. "We've talked. I love you, you love me, and we're going to be together. What more need be said?"

"Buffy, you know I don't want anything more than to be with you, but there are all these unanswered questions—" "Doyle said demon blood," she answered. "That explains how," he admitted. "But why was he looking for me? And why don't I remember anything? And why am I still so strong?"

Angel turned and caught a guilty look on her face. "Buffy?" he asked, somewhat threateningly. "I don't know, she said, putting her hands up in surrender. "We were just... making love, and the demon came in and you jumped him and killed him. "I didn't see a body," Angel mused. "How did I kill him?" "Remember the kitchen table? How it's all broken? You threw him through that and he exploded."

"Was I using a weapon?" he asked.

"Nope, bare hands," she murmured, entranced by what she was touching.

"No weapons. I wish I could remember why. There's a reason I keep an arsenal downstairs." "I'd say you were kind of distracted. Also kind of naked," she added, wrapping herself around him. "I mean, we were in the middle of something."

"And we were doing that all afternoon and all night? I wish I could remember that." Buffy managed to keep a straight face. "I guess I'm just not that memorable," she quipped, then reached up to kiss him. "But since you don't remember, maybe we should go downstairs and make some fresh memories." He succumbed at last and they headed downstairs, a bag of groceries — including ice cream — in hand. Also, condoms.

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world," he said, just before words stopped. But a feeling nagged at him. His luck was never good, was it?