Saturday night

Buffy walked slowly back to Angel Investigations, Doyle silent by her side. Finally he broke the silence.

"Bad news?" he asked.

"No, not exactly," she replied. They walked in silence for a few more blocks.

"So, not bad how?" he asked.

Images from Angel's mind still rocked inside her head.

"It's not so bad," she said absently.

"What did they do to you?" Doyle asked as he saw Buffy clutch her head.

"Nothing," she said. "Nothing I didn't ask them to."

"Oh man, I should have warned you, sometimes people come out really messed up by the Oracles. Angel's already freaked out, if you're —"

"No," Buffy shouted. "Everything's fine and he's not going to be freaked out. We're going to go back and you'll tell Cordelia that it turns out I was wrong about last night, nothing bad happened, he didn't drink from me. He's not going to remember it, and everything's going to be okay."

"Right," said Doyle dubiously, looking at her with concern. "Everything's fine."

Angel was upstairs raiding the fridge, chatting with a puzzled Cordelia when they returned.

"Buffy!" he yelled through a mouthful of sandwich. He caught her up in a hug.

"Guess what?" he cried, putting his hand over her chest.

"Yes, Angel, you're human," Cordelia said impatiently. "Buffy already knows. Guys, Angel is having some kind of mental problem. He doesn't remember the demon or boinking Buffy last night."

Angel ignored Cordelia and fed Buffy a big bite of ice cream bar, watching her face intently as she chewed. "Isn't it wonderful?" he enthused, offering her another bite and taking a huge mouthful, himself.

Cordelia gagged. "If you guys are going to go at it like bunnies up here, too, then I'll clear out."

Angel grabbed the box of ice cream bars in one hand and Buffy in the other and crowded into the elevator.

"See you!" he called as they slipped out of sight.

Cordelia turned to Doyle.

"Oh yeah, we're doomed," she said.

Angel grabbed two of the bars and tossed the rest in the freezer. The trash and recycling bins were nearly full and the fridge was nearly empty. Buffy smiled.

"I can see we're going to have to get you an exercise regime," she said.

"I think you exercise me pretty well," he said, giving her a chocolaty kiss.

She kissed him back with feeling, tingles started to grow in her. Tingles that were quickly swamped by images of him ravaging her on the bed, the bed towards which he was now urging her.

"Whoa, big guy, hold up. I'll get ice cream on your sheets."

"I'll wash them later," he said, kissing her with enthusiasm. She kissed him back, then pressed her hands into his chest, separating their bodies slightly.

"Okay, darling, slow down a minute. You'd think we didn't spend this whole morning in bed."

"Oh, right," he said, ashamed. She felt a surge of concern and looked at him closely. She hadn't triggered a bad memory, had she?

"Are you — I mean — sore?" he asked. "I think I am, a little," he admitted.

She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest.

"Maybe a little. And hungry. But if you take me to dinner, maybe I'll be ready again."

Angel smiled and stroked her hair.

"Anything for you. Anything."

They did get to dinner, but not for a while.