"How are you feeling?"

Buffy looked up from the laundry she was folding while sitting cross-legged on Giles' bed. She smiled faintly. "Fine."

When the librarian gave her a disbelieving look, she shrugged. "I don't know. . . a little sad, I guess."

Sitting down at the foot of the bed, Giles picked up a pair of her jeans, deftly folding the garment and laying it aside. "For Merrick?"

"Not really for him. . . I don't know. . . I guess. . . "

She paused, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"You guess what?" Giles prompted.

Buffy looked embarrassed. "I always knew he didn't like me, but it's hard knowing that he hates me so very much. I never asked for this, you know."

Giles nodded thoughtfully. "And for that, Buffy, I am so very sorry. Your life was stripped from you, brutally, and what have you received in return? What price have you paid?"

He watched Buffy fold her pitiful collection of clothing in silence, smiling wistfully as she put the neat stack back into the laundry basket. Making a promise to himself to take her shopping sometime soon, Giles handed her the pair of jeans he had folded.

Laying them in the basket, Buffy looked up. "You know, I came to Sunnydale to die."

Giles could only stare at her in shock, unsure if he properly understood her. "What? What do you mean?"

Scooping up the basket, Buffy walked over to the dresser. She proceeded to put away the clothing. "I came here to die. I didn't expect to survive the battle with the Master, in fact, I hoped I wouldn't."

"Why on earth, Buffy. . .?"

Buffy looked at herself in the mirror, then her eyes met his in the glass. "What did I have to live for? I was tired, Giles. Tired and burnt out and empty. I honestly was beginning to wonder how much longer I could do this."

"What changed?"

She smiled shyly. "You. Oz and Larry. You're the best friends I've had in years." She laughed to herself softly. Giles smiled at the sound of her rare laughter. "I guess Angel has a little something to do with it as well."

"Buffy, when you came to Sunnydale, the young woman I saw was. . . cold. Hard. Lifeless. At seventeen years old, you had ceased living," Giles said softly. "It broke my heart to see such a promising life broken by the abominations that you face on a nightly basis."

Buffy turned and leaned against the dresser, arms folded over her breasts in a subconsciously protective stance. "You noticed a lot."

"What I've noticed is a girl who is learning to live again."

"I don't know why I'm bothering. Slayers don't exactly have a healthy prognosis," she said, defeat clouding her face again.

Giles looked away as unbidden memories of his Slayer, Denise, filled his mind. She had been the Chosen One before Buffy was called in 1996. She'd only lasted less than a year before being killed in an ambush set up by the Master's protégé, Darla. The Council had allowed him to remain in Sunnydale, working to find a way to close the Hellmouth. On countless occasions, he had nearly given up and moved back to England, but, now, looking at the young woman in front of him, he was so very glad he hadn't.

Meeting Buffy had given him a new lease on life, as well. And, he'd be doubly damned if he'd allow her to wallow in her own misery.

Standing up, he held out his hand to her. "Why don't we see if we can rummage something up for supper? And, I feel like a spot of tea."

Buffy took his hand, grinning as his lean fingers closed over her tiny ones. "Jeeves, you always feel like a spot of tea. I think you use it for blood."

"I don't see you turning it down. It's good for the soul."

They bickered good-naturedly as they went downstairs.

The night sky was lightening to pale lavender as Buffy walked down Crawford Street. An early-morning fog had rolled in off the Pacific, bringing with it a teeth-chattering cold that made the Slayer pull her thin jacket closer around her body.

As she neared Angel's mansion, she shifted her crossbow to the other shoulder, wincing as the strap brushed the wound on her back. In her last battle with three particularly nasty vamps, one had pulled loose a metal bar from a nearby shop window and slashed her with it. Buffy could tell it wasn't too deep, but she'd lost enough blood to make her slightly dizzy.

Of course, it hadn't stopped her from gleefully staking all three demons.

Pausing outside on the sidewalk, Buffy looked up at the dark, mysterious dwelling, shrouded in tendrils of fog, like something out of an old horror movie. She almost turned and left, not wanting to face Angel after their fight over two weeks ago. She hadn't seen him since, though she felt his presence as he followed her. Instead of wigging her out like it might have at one time, his devotion to keeping her safe warmed her tender heart.

Skirting the side of the house, Buffy walked down into the sunken garden and made her way on silent feet to the French doors. She didn't see Angel, knowing that, at this time of the morning, he was probably asleep. Carefully, she opened the door and slipped inside.

The only light in the cavernous room came from the low fire crackling in the grate. Buffy lay the crossbow on the floor and shrugged out of her jacket. The fabric stuck to the cut and she cried out. Slumping down on the couch, she craned her neck, trying to look at the wound.

"Buffy? Is that you?"

Jumping back to her feet, Buffy stared at Angel. He was standing in the doorway leading back to his bedroom, his figure barely discernible in the dim glow of the fire.

"Um, yeah. Uh, hi."

He walked closer and Buffy had to consciously struggle to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. He looked absolutely beautiful, his pale skin awash in the fire's coppery glow, his bare chest and legs looked sculpted from marble, like a statue Buffy had once seen on a museum outing with her mother, years ago.

His sable-dark hair glinted with silver and gold light and his eyes, always so warm whenever he looked at her, gleamed with some undefined emotion. She stared at him, unaware of the hunger in her gaze as he poked at the fire until it was roaring, filling the room with shimmering light. When he turned to face her, she looked away, the vision of him clad in nothing more than a pair of loose dark trousers causing her to tremble.

"Buffy, are you okay? I smell. . . "

"What?"

He smiled apologetically. "I smell blood. Yours."

"I. . . uh. . . I got into a fight with three vamps and one of them got in a parting shot."

She took a step back as he came closer to her.

"Let me see?"

"O-okay." Buffy turned her back to him, her fingers twisting together nervously. Even the anticipation of his touch made her stomach flutter.

Angel slipped his fingers under the strap of her tank, feeling her flinch in reaction to his cool touch. He pulled the fabric away from her cut, seeing, with relief, that it was nearly closed. Letting his hand trail across her silky skin, he leaned close to her ear.

"It's almost closed. Let me get something to clean it with."

Buffy giggled weakly, the sound seemingly loud in the huge room. "You always seem to be cleaning me up."

Angel smiled at her bowed head, noticing the grass and twigs stuck in her braid and the smudges of dirt on her golden skin. "I don't mind. I love taking care of you."

Her head snapped up, green eyes searching his for any indication of deceit. But, there was none. She nodded and walked over to the sofa, sinking into its soft comfort.

"I'm sorry I woke you up. I was in the neighborhood and. . . that sounds lame, Summers. . . anyway, I know I've been a bitch, well, a raving bitch. . . " she said, as Angel walked back to his room. When he didn't answer, she shrugged and lay back against the cushions.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Angel asked as he came back in the room a few minutes later. He carried the bottle of antiseptic and a piece of gauze in his hands.

"Oh! Well, I. . . I haven't seen you around in awhile and I just wanted to apologize. . . you know. . . for being so bitchy," Buffy said as the vampire sat down behind her.

"You weren't being a bitch, you were just being cautious."

"Still, it doesn't give. . .OW! That burns!" she squealed when he dabbed the antiseptic on her cut.

Angel chuckled. "You didn't cry the last time I did this."

"I think I was in shock."

"There, all done." Setting aside the bottle and gauze, Angel busied himself unbraiding Buffy's hair. Startled, she reached around to halt his action, but Angel caught her fingers in his and pressed a light kiss to the tips. "Let me?"

The infernal butterflies had started up in her belly again and Buffy swallowed tightly. "Okay."

"You have such beautiful hair, you know that? It's like a blanket of gold, woven from the finest silk threads," Angel whispered as he worked his fingers through the wavy strands. The heavy mass fell over his hands and down Buffy's back.

"You have a line for every occasion, don't you?" Buffy whispered, leaning into his touch.

Angel smiled. "That's funny. I never had much to say before I met you. At least, not while I had my soul."

"What changed?" she asked, echoing Giles' words from their conversation a few days prior.

"My fantasy became flesh."

To her utter embarrassment, Buffy felt an erotic heat flood her body, turning her skin pink and her core moist. "Um, I, uh. . . I don't know. . . "

Angel closed his eyes as the scent of her arousal assaulted his senses. His hands glided over her shoulders and down her arms until he was embracing her, his fingers twining with hers. Buffy leaned back against his bare chest, her head pushing into the curve of his neck.

With his lips only centimeters from her ear, Angel whispered, "Come on, I have a surprise for you."

Buffy giggled, an uncharacteristically happy sound. "You have no idea how many men use that one to get me into their clutches."

"Does it work?"

"Never." Buffy let him pull her to her feet. "What's my surprise?"

"Now, it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you."

Buffy followed Angel into his bedroom, her gaze straying to the inviting king-size bed with its tangle of silk and velvet bedclothes. The vampire tugged her into the bathroom, where a nearly full bathtub was abounding with fluffy white bubbles. He turned off the tap and let go of her hand. "I thought you might like a bubble bath to wash away the battle."

The innocent excitement on Buffy's face was enchanting to behold. Her emerald eyes gleamed in anticipation and Angel nearly groaned aloud as lust rocketed through him. He moved around the room, lighting candles, as Buffy dipped her hand into the steaming water.

"Oooh, just perfect! Angel, you are so thoughtful!"

Angel looked down at her shining face and unable to restrain himself any longer, he curled one hand around the back of her head and lowered his mouth to hers.

Tilting her face up to his, Buffy met his kiss shyly, her eyelids fluttering closed as his lips slid seductively over hers, coaxing a response.

At first, the kiss was sweet, chaste, but as Angel cupped her face in his hands, Buffy willingly parted her lips as he drew his tongue along the curve of her lower lip. With a moan, Angel gently savaged her mouth, his lips and teeth and tongue drawing an equally raw response from the tiny girl in his arms.

Buffy arched her body into his, her arms sliding over his broad shoulders to pull him closer. She entwined her tongue with his, pausing to nibble at the corner of his mouth, only to gasp when he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, grazing the tender flesh with his teeth. She was so wet now, she could feel her panties sticking to her skin and the ache grew in her belly.

With a growl, Angel finally broke their embrace, shaking violently in an effort to control the demon that was howling inside him. Buffy gazed up at him with an expression of such sweetness that he wanted to throw her to the cold, tile floor and bury himself in her heated body, take her savagely, make her scream over and over as he pleasured her.

Buffy knew the struggle he was fighting, she felt the heavy thrust of his erection against her belly and she needed it, needed him like a drug. "Angel. . . " she whispered as she drew her hands over his chest, her fingernails scratching lightly over his nipples.

"Your bath's getting cold, baby." He backed away from her, nearly undone by the desire reflected in her eyes. "Let me know if you need anything, I'll be in the other room."

As he pulled the door partially shut behind him, Buffy moaned in delight. She looked wistfully at the inviting bath as she quickly pulled off her clothes. It had been so very long since she had indulged in something so decadent and she planned to enjoy every single minute.

Angel read the same paragraph over for the sixth time before finally laying the book aside. He looked towards the bathroom door, a pensive expression on his face. She had been in there for almost twenty minutes and, instead of fading, his need was only increasing.

Swinging his legs off the bed, he padded over to the door, listening for any sound. Only the occasional splash told him she was still in the bath. "Buffy? You okay?"

"Mm-hmm. You can come in," she called out, her voice sounding sleepy.

Angel pushed open the door and entered the candlelit room. He stumbled to a halt and his mouth popped open.

She was a goddess.

Buffy reclined against the back of the old-fashioned claw foot tub, her body draped in bubbles, one foot propped up on the edge of the porcelain fixture. Her hair, freshly-shampooed, was coiled on top of her head, several strands falling to curl damply against her flesh, blushed rosy from the water's heat.

"Wash my back?" she asked, peering up at him with drowsy eyes.

Dropping to his knees beside the tub, thankful that it would hide his throbbing erection, Angel took the washcloth she held out, along with a bar of soap.

"You're trying to kill me, you know that?"

Her expression was all innocence. "From what?"

"Lust. What you do to me. . . it should be illegal."

"I didn't know that vampires could die from that. I should look into adding it to my arsenal," she teased.

"If it were possible, every vampire in Sunnydale would spontaneously combust if they could see what I'm seeing right now," he chuckled as he soaped up the cloth.

Buffy sat up and leaned forward, giving Angel an unobstructed view of her smooth back. "And, what do you see?"

Gently, he drew the soapy cloth over her flesh, careful to avoid the healing wound. "Perfection. Sunlight and Heaven. No demon should be allowed to look at you and live," he whispered, as his hands glided over her skin, only a thin scrap of terrycloth keeping her from his touch.

Buffy tilted her head back to look at him, a doubtful look on her face, only to have her lips caught in a searing kiss. Taken completely off guard, she could only gasp in astonished delight. His previous kisses had been exciting, but this was soul shattering, a wild merging of lust and need. Shifting in the tub, Buffy rose to her knees, sloshing soapy water over the edge. Throwing every caution to the wind, she fell into his arms.

Thrilled beyond anything he had ever experienced, Angel all but mauled her soft mouth, thrusting his tongue between her lips and entwining with her own in an erotic imitation of what he really wanted to do to her. Dropping the washcloth in the tub, he scooped her wet body into his arms and, with his mouth still attached to hers, carried her into the bedroom.

As Angel laid her on the huge bed, any residual self-consciousness Buffy might've had disappeared under the scalding gaze he was giving her. With a welcoming smile, she held her arms out for him to join her atop the cool silk sheets.

Never taking his eyes from hers, Angel slid out of his pants, baring the hard evidence of his desire for her. Climbing up onto the mattress, he lay beside her, propped up on one elbow. For several moments, he contented himself with just looking at her, at everything from her damply curling hair and firm, rosy-tipped breasts to her pale, flat stomach and surprisingly curvy hips. Angel touched one finger to her belly button, dipping into it to scoop up a single bead of water that had settled there. With his dampened fingertip, he drew a single, feather-light line from her navel to the top of her cleft, delving into her dark gold curls and back again. He lifted smoky eyes to hers and Buffy flushed under the raw heat of his stare.

"Um, maybe, we should. . . um, turn off the light?" she whispered, her hand reaching up to brush against his smooth chest.

"No. I want to be able to look at you. I want to watch you when you come."

"Angel. . . " she started to say, but he silenced her with a kiss, as deep and carnal as the one before. Her arguments faded as he sucked gently on her tongue, his teeth rubbing against the tender flesh underneath. Once more, his fingers drifted lazily over her flat stomach, coming up to cup one breast, lifting the full weight of it, his thumb straying near her nipple, but not quite touching it.

Buffy scooted closer, her hip pressing against his cock, pushing it up farther until the tip nearly rested against his stomach. Curious, she touched him, her tiny fingers slipping from head to base, smiling in girlish enthusiasm when it twitched hard and Angel moaned. Emboldened by his encouraging sounds, she made a circle with her thumb and middle finger and stroked him in a continuous, smooth motion. He was thrusting his hips into her hand, aiding her inquisitive touch.

Sighing breathlessly, Buffy moved as close to him as she could, head pillowed atop his shoulder, her hand sliding over his cock. The dampness of her hand, mixed with the droplets of slippery fluid leaking from his reddened tip eased her stroke and her hand glided faster. Under her ear, a steady growl rumbled through Angel's chest and the hand fondling her breasts became a little more insistent, a little rougher.

"Buff. . . Buffy, honey, wait. . . " he finally whispered, his hand dropping to wrap around hers, stilling her movement.

Lifting her head, she looked at him, desire glazing her eyes. "Hmm? I'm not doing it right?" She started to pull away, but Angel used his grip on her wrist to pull her up against his chest.

"Baby, you're doing it fine. It's just. . . I'm on the verge here and I don't wanna come yet," he said, smiling as he slipped his hand around her waist to squeeze her bottom.

"Oh."

He nuzzled her neck, resting his lips against her throbbing pulse, his heightened sense of smell easily scenting her blood, just under the surface of her sweet skin. Once more, he slid his hand between her thighs, his index finger easing between her lips, finding her hidden folds slick with inner moisture. Buffy gasped as his finger brushed over her sensitive clit and she arched into his touch. "Oh, Angel, God. . . "

"I know, baby, just let it happen," he whispered against her cheek, his long fingers dancing over her trembling flesh, one pushing into her wet channel. He thrust it into her slowly, curling his fingertip upward, pressing against nerve endings Buffy had no idea she possessed. She tossed her head and cried out, her hips bucking on his finger.

"A-angel. . .? "

"Yeah, baby?"

She paused, her brow furrowing as if she had lost her train of thought. Closing her eyes, she sighed and rocked her hips back and forth as Angel carefully inserted another finger, gently stretching her.

"I. . . um. . . I wish, I wish. . . "

Brushing her swollen lips with his, Angel smiled, his hand never stilling. "Tell me."

Buffy's tear-filled eyes fastened on his face. "I wish I could be a virgin for you."

His soul swelling in pain for the tortured girl, Angel captured her lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue swirling around hers, his teeth nibbling at her scar. Pushing his fingers deep into her slick core, Angel rubbed his thumb over her clit and Buffy sobbed his name, her slender body arching right up off the bed.

With one hand digging into his shoulder, Buffy felt her first orgasm rage through her with the force of a freight train and she wailed. She shook violently as Angel continued to bring her over the top again and again. His fingers glided in and out of her vagina and Buffy clenched on him rhythmically, her tear-soaked face buried against his shoulder.

Easing her onto her back, Angel continued to move his hand on her, bringing her down slowly. Looking down at her lovely face, he felt all of the emotion, all of the love he'd been suppressing for her since he first saw her in LA, come rushing to the fore.

After this night, he'd never let her go.

Buffy opened her eyes languidly, their emerald color deeper and full of need. She tilted her head back so that he could rain little kisses all over her face. "Wow."

"We're not done, baby. Not by a long shot."

With a sweet smile, Buffy boldly cupped him in her hand, squeezing gently. "I hope not."

"Buffy, honey, what you said before, about not being a virgin for me?"

Blushing, Buffy tried to brush it off. "It's okay, I shouldn't have said. . . "

"I don't want you to ever feel like there's something wrong with you. I know what happened to you before, with your Watcher, that wasn't sex, it wasn't love. You're my virgin, Buffy. My true love."

She was melting all over again, the ache between her thighs growing. "I've never felt like this before. I'd never. . you know, um, reacted like that."

"I know." Angel raised his hand and casually licked his fingers clean, much to Buffy's shock. "You taste sweet."

For an answer, she licked his lips, tasting herself on them. "I want everything, Angel. I want you to make me all yours, make me forget that outside this house is a world out of control."

He was throbbing hard and cool in her tiny hand, feeling impossibly huge and she wondered how it would even fit inside her. Merrick, thankfully, was quite a bit less than average and, aside from when he became extra rough, it hadn't really hurt, after the first few times.

Angel was once more thrusting in her hand, seeking friction in her firm grip. "I need you, Buffy. I need to lose myself in you," he grunted.

She was tugging him over her, her hands spreading over his shoulders. "Make me yours, Angel. Come inside me," came her hot little whisper.

It was all the invitation he needed. As he swung his body over hers, Buffy spread her legs wide, her upper thighs damp with her own lubrication. She flinched as she felt his cock sliding against her wet cleft, delving between the plump lips.

Angel propped himself up on one elbow while reaching between their bodies with the other. He stroked her tiny opening with one finger, then replaced it with the head of his cock. A single push of his hips brought him inside her. As he slid deep, he gasped at the sensation of tight, wet heat that surrounded him, drawing him into her fire. With a rumbling growl, Angel couldn't help the shift into his vamp-face.

His transformation startled Buffy, at first, but as Angel pushed into her, his cock filling her to the point of pain, she eagerly thrust up to meet him. Taking his face in her hands, Buffy pulled him down to her, kissing him wildly, not caring as his fangs cut into her lips.

Buffy's unconditional acceptance of his vampire self was complete. She took him, man and demon, inside her and Angel knew that there had been no experience in his two hundred forty-three years that would ever rival being so intimately joined with this woman that he loved so desperately. Pulling back, almost out of her, Angel lifted one of her legs up to his waist so that she was cradling him, then he slammed back into her.

Buffy sensed the pent-up aggression simmering below the surface and she urged him on with breathless whispers and the drag of her fingernails over the smooth flesh of his back. She'd never in life felt something as divine as being filled by this man, this vampire who had worshipped her from the day she'd let him out of the Master's prison. She had fought it, raged against the inevitable attraction, tried to think of him as nothing but a demon.

But, the pull between them was too great, the mindless need for each other too strong.

Angel braced himself on one forearm and rocked inside her velvety, wet core. She had lifted both legs and wrapped them around his bucking hips, her eyes glazing over as she lifted her hips to meet his increasingly frantic thrusts. She squeezed him with her inner muscles and was promptly rewarded with a growl and a savage, bruising kiss. He reached between their bodies and began to rub her burning clit. The sweet explosions that burst inside her sent Buffy over the edge again, her scream echoing in the room.

She was soaking, her honey covering his fingers and the scent of her orgasm sent Angel crashing after her. Pushing himself up onto his hands, he pounded into her quivering body, Buffy's thighs clamping around him as she worked herself on his cock.

With a hoarse cry, Angel thrust deep and spilled his cold seed into her womb, his climax bringing Buffy with him yet again. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he groaned in spent desire, the heat of his lover's flushed, damp skin nearly scalding him. He finally lifted his head to look up at Buffy.

Her eyes were squeezed shut and tears slipped from the corners to fall into her hair. He cupped her cheek in sudden concern, one thumb rubbing over the wetness. "Oh, baby. . . "

With a strangled cry, Buffy clung to him, her body quivering in the aftermath of the incredible experience. "I-I. . . never, oh God, I never imagined. . . "

"I wanted our first time to be good, not rushed, not forced," Angel whispered, his fingers tracing her trembling lips.

Buffy opened her eyes and smiled the sweetest smile he had ever seen on her lips. Again, he was struck speechless by her loveliness. "It was perfect. So perfect with you. . . was it. . . I mean, was I. . . okay?"

Angel rolled over onto his back, pulling her with him. Buffy sprawled across his chest, her thighs falling to either side of his hips. She blushed when she realized how wet she still was, that it was still coming out of her.

"Buffy, my love, you were perfect, beautiful, every dream come true." Angel smoothed her hair back from her glistening face, the long strands falling in a curtain around them. "I love you."

Even though she didn't speak the words, the years of hurt locking them inside her, her love shone from her eyes and Angel smiled.

Capturing her lips in a devouring kiss, Angel set out to show Buffy just how much he adored her.