************
Joyce Summers sighed as she entered the New York City hotel with Buffy and Angel. “I want to thank you two again for coming to help sell everything at this convention. I could really use the help.”
“My pleasure,” Angel responded brightly, glad that Buffy’s mother didn’t seem to totally hate him anymore.
Buffy grinned. “Did I mention I had a huge history test on 18th century Europe that I totally got out of?”
“Buffy!” her mother cried. “I specifically asked you if you had any important tests.”
“It’s not important. At least not to *me* anyway ...”
Joyce sighed again. It was pointless to argue with Buffy ... She glanced at Buffy and Angel who were holding hands and talking quietly and then went to get the hotel keys.
“Okay!” she returned shortly with two sets of room keys, interupting a drawn-out kiss. “Against my better judgement- and due to a lack of hotel rooms- I decided that you two can share a room.”
“Really?” Buffy eye’s got wide and she threw her arms around her mother. “Oh, Mom, you’re the best!”
“Buffy,” Joyce choked out. “I can’t breathe.”
Buffy instantly released her mother. “Sorry.”
Joyce just smiled and shook her head. “I know what goes on behind closed doors. And you don’t think I *really* believe that you spend *that* much time at Willow’s, do you?”
“Hey,” Buffy said defensively. “I told you once that I was going to Angel’s and you wigged and grounded me! Besides, I am at Willow’s *some* of the time...”
“Come on. Put your bags upstairs and let’s go, ‘cause we need to set up.”
*****
“Mom, I’m tired, we’ve been setting up for three hours!”
“We’re almost finished, Sweetheart.”
Buffy groaned. “Mom, *no one* is going to notice if there’s 98 red glass thingies instead of a hundred! And that huge statue you want me and Angel to lug out? You can take a picture and hang it on the wall.”
“Oh, Buffy, really ...” Joyce sighed. “All right, let’s sit down for a minute.”
Buffy flopped onto the floor beside Angel. “Thank you!”
“Oh, Buffy, do you remember the last time we were here at a convention selling art?”
“You mean when I was four and I attacked that guy? Yeah.”
“Did you ever tell Angel about that?”
“No, I didn’t. Angel doesn’t care.” She glanced at her boyfriend. “Do you.” It was more of a statement then a question.
“Of course I do.” He pulled her closer to him.
Joyce smiled brightly. “Good! Buffy, why don’t you explain. I have a couple phone calls to make.”
“You don’t *really* wanna hear, do you?” Buffy asked when Joyce was gone.
“Yes, I do. I want to know what you were like when you were little.”
Buffy sighed and smiled. “My sales pitch was pretty much ‘I jump you ... you buy’.”
“Go on.”
Buffy sighed. “Okay, so I was four and we were in New York for an art convention like this one.
“My dad, forever the work-a-holic, didn’t come. He stayed in LA, so I had to go to the show with my mom while she sold stuff.
“I was bored out of my mind, ‘cause, well, she wouldn’t let me touch anything ... are you sture you really wanna hear?”
“Yes.” Angel nodded.
Buffy shrugged. “Okay, so anyway, my mother decided I’d make a good sales-person, ‘cause I was four, and I guess she thought customers would find that to be adorable.
“So I went around for awhile, offering art crap to a bucnh of ladies wearing too much perfume. I can still recall feeling dizzy after words ...
“Anyhow, I found this cool little hand-held statue and I just ran around the place with it until my mom stopped me. She told me that I need to try to sell the statue, not hide it from everyone. So I was like ‘okay, I can do that’, and when the next person came in- some guy I had never seen in my life- I decided I would try to sell it to him. I ran up to him and kinda leapt into his arms ... what are you smiling about?”
Angel shook his head, still grinning. “Nothing.”
Buffy stuck out her tongue before continuing. “So I’m in the arms of some guy, and for some reason I decided I liked the guy. Instead of trying to sell him something, I practically fell asleep in his arms. My mom came by, full of apologies, but then she ran off to talk to an ‘important client’ or something like that.” Buffy shook her head.
“Then I remembered I was supposed to sell the statue. I was like, ‘Here, buy this’, and the guy actually agreed ... I should have gone to find Mom then, or sell more stuff to women who had bought out perfume companies, but I didn’t. I gave the man the statue of ... what was it ...”
“Buddha,” Angel supplied, and Buffy nodded, not giving it any thought.
“Right, Buddha. And then I just curled up in the guy’s arms- I’m sure he was looking all over the place for my mother, thrying to get rid of me- and I said ... what did I say? ‘I love you, Mister.’ That’s what I said. I don’t know why, I mean, I had ever met the guy before in my life.
“The guy eventually went to pay, and my mom had to pry me away from the man, apologizing over and over again, she mentioned something about drooling ... I must have drooled all over the man or something.
“I said ‘I love you, Mister,” again and then I asked if I would ever see him again. And he told me-”
“ ‘When you’re sixteen’.”
“Right. Hmm. Think I should be mad that he never kept his promise?” Buffy asked jokingly. “Wait ... how’d you know? About the ‘16’ thing? And the statue?”
“I was there,” Angel responded.
“You weer lurking even *then*?!” Buffy asked in disbelief.
“No, I wasn’t. I mean I was *there*.”
“I’m still confused.”
“I did keep my promise. I said when you were 16, didn’t I?”
“You mean ... ohhhh my gosh, that is majorly wiggy Oh my gosh, I don’t believe this ...”
“You were sweet. I just couldn’t resist you. Even then.”
“I was also *four* and ... okay, I completely have the wiggins now. ‘Cause I was four, and you ... weren’t.”
“Hey, I didn’t realize it was you until you told me the story.”
“You should have shut me up!” Buffy cried.
“Let me get this straight: you wanted to hear *me* tell *you* about the time I was four, I jumped on you, and drooled all over you?”
“Yes,” Angel agreed. “As long as you don’t do that to random guys this time around.”
Buffy’s mouth dropped open and she smacked him lightly. “Hey!”
He leaned in to give her a gentle kiss.
“I love you, Mister,” Buffy whispered, smiling when they broke apart.
“I love you, too,” he answered, leanging in to capture her lips in another sweet kiss.