Titled: A Penny for a Rainy Day

Author: Meghan

Email: meghanreviews@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: I don't own.
Distribution: my hosts, site, yahoos...

Summary: It's raining, its pouring...

Rating: NC-17
Pairing: BA

It started the night she went home after tending to his injuries.
They were almost gone, in fact he knew that by morning the scars from
Drusilla's play time would be gone. He had never healed those scars
so quickly before he met Buffy. Then again he never let his demon
tend to the wounds without any impediment.

Closing the door, his fingers trailed to his lips and lingered, still
feeling the impassioned kiss upon them. Stepping away from the
doorway, he took off the unbuttoned shirt and threw it into his
hamper.

The bandages were itchy and annoying to him, anytime he scratched
them the itch got worse. It was a troublesome side affect of healing
quickly, or maybe wounds always itched when they healed. He never
recalled the sensation before. Maybe that was a good thing.

Sighing, he went over to his bookshelf and pulled out a long and thin
black volume. The cover was made out of black velvet, and the words
were handwritten on the inside pages. Every night she came in with
her diary, and every night she left it on his shelf if he should get
bored. Then in the morning when he was zonked out in deep slumber
she'd come and get the book and read his own elegant scrawl he had
left behind.

A perfect system of note passing.

Wondering what she had written this time, he ambled over to the deep
leather cushioned chair and settled in. Twisting the knob on the
lamp, a soft orange glow filled the apartment as he leaned back and
opened the cover of the book.

Flipping through the worn pages, he recalled her shock when she had
found out that he had read her diary the first day he had been cooped
up in her house. The fantasies involving a mysterious `A' were
arousing at first in their innocent portrayal. It had been only a few
days later when she had handed him her diary with a book mark in it.

The descriptive words on that page were not so innocent, and he had
found himself writing her back, playing out her impassioned lusty
thoughts with his own. They've kept it up ever since, and he's never
been more glad that he read her diary in the first place, then right
before he reads her next entry.

Buffy had learned the art of the written foreplay by paying attention
to how he wrote to her, and the passages that came back were arousing
and stirring. His emotions raced as he thumbed to the last page
written on. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before opening
them and reading her heart's thoughts.

~''~''~``~``~

A large cool hand grabbed mine from behind as another crept around my
mouth, hushing my gasp. The hands were as  familiar as the love
within my heart, belonging to my angel. My body was pulled against a
the chest made of cool marble, as he whispered hushed nonsense.

My initial fright had stilled, leaving me quaking with the stirrings
of newly awoken passions. His hand left my mouth, sure that I would
not make a sound. He was wrong, because when he kissed the skin
behind my ear a small moan escaped my lips.

His hands roamed from my shoulders, down the line of my sides to my
hips and back up. After several slow sensual passes, his hands rested
against the curves of my breasts, waiting. At his light touch, my
head fell back against his shoulder as I arched into those palms,
rubbing myself against him.

I could feel his smile pressing into the hair on the top of my head,
as his fingers made dizzying patterns over the skin exposed by the
towel that covered my nude body. The droplets of water collected
under his fingertips, leaving cooling trails of heat along my skin.

I didn't question as to how my lover had gotten into the girl's
locker room after school. I was just glad that he was there. Turning
around in his arms, I faced his delighted smirk and twinkling eyes.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled myself to tiptoe in my
efforts to reach him.

The kiss was tender and loving, even as the desire flared. He pulled
my towel off and murmured appreciatively at the sensual feast before
him. As he bent down to lay hundreds of tingling kisses along my
skin, I pulled the shirt from his pants.

I wanted skin. His skin pressed to mine to cool my heated flesh. The
shirt was being a pain however, sticking ever tightly in the waist of
his pants. He didn't help me as I struggled to get it out, in fact
the trouble seemed to amuse him greatly for he laughed wickedly at my
plight. I was most frustrated.

But victory was sweet, when the silken fabric gave way under the
insistent tugs of my little hands. A sigh escaped my lips as I
lowered myself to explore the tantalizing delights of his skin. His
skin was a succulent treat of oatmeal and almonds, the bath soap he
loved to smear on his skin.

My tongue dipped into the hollow of his bellybutton, my lips sucking
the bit of flesh into my hungry mouth. His groan of pleasure, had my
knees trembling as a gush of moisture seeped between my thighs. He
could smell my scent wafting through the steamy air.

I moved higher, kissing the salt off of his ribs, loving the ability
to tickle him with my tongue. Leaving a trail of wetness from there
to his nipples, I drew one into my mouth, suckling it lightly,
rolling it between my teeth and biting gently.

My name fell from his lips in worship as my journey led me to the
hollow that was his collarbone. The jut of the bone fit into the
teasing line of my lips in a chaste kiss. I moved on to his jugular,
and hummed with my curving smile against his adam's apple. His light
growl accompanied my sound, as his hands began to do delicious things
to my body…

~''~''~``~``~

Swallowing thickly, he let the light of the lamp fall onto the page
of sensual script. Taking a few deep breaths, he placed it to the
side, and stood up. A grimace marred his features for a moment before
he headed for his kitchen.

Think pure. Think pure. Think pure.

Oh hell… think dirty. Think dirty. Think dirty.

The tile was cold under his feet, becoming a sense of reality for him
to stand upon. Striding over to the refrigerator, he stood in the
harsh light looking for something to appease his hunger. He settled
for duck and rabbit, wishing morosely for the ability to taste real
food.

He watched her, coveting all the morsels of food she brought into his
apartment to munch on during her stay. Most of the time it was junk
food like Cheetos or Oreos, but seeing her delight in the tastes had
him hungering for something he could never have.

She had recently caught him, boring her with his eyes as she ate. At
her saddened look, he got angry over her pity. The next day he had
apologized profusely with whispered endearments and orgasms. It
wasn't her fault that he only tasted dry dust when he tried to eat
one of her chips. Now she knew though, and he had to practically beg
her to keep bringing food.

He had been a moron. He knew better then to blow up. The fight last
week had been their only major fight, and he regretted it to the
marrow of his bones. She had forgiven him by the next day after their
fight, but even now, he still felt guilty and like a fucking prick.

Slamming the door on the cool air, he walked back into the living
room ripping the packet of blood at the seems with a quick jerk of
his head. She had told him he wasn't infallible, that'd she'd expect
him to make errors of judgment on occasion. He hadn't like that, but
had dutifully kept his big mouth shut. He didn't like not being
perfect in her eyes.

He wanted to be Mr. Macho Man!

He wanted to be mister obi wong kah-no-bee!

…or whoever the hell that guy was in those movies she had made him
watch while he'd been stuck in bed the last few days. But he too had
to accept the fact that he wasn't perfect, he opened his eyes with a
smile, but in her words he was pretty damn close.

Shaking his head, he sat on the floor by the glass coffee table,
reaching behind him to get the book to set down in front of him. He
turned at the waist, opening the drawer in the table the book had
been sitting on. Taking out the ink well and quill, he almost laughed
again at his foolishness.

One day he'd get a pen. Maybe. But the feathered quill was something
he was use to. It made his scrawl more bold and elegant. Besides he
liked the feel of it in his grip.

Taking great care in the portrayal of his feelings, he began to write
with quick slashes of his wrist. The movements flowed, from ink well
to paper, his thoughts transpiring onto the page.

~''~''~``~``~

My hands pressed lightly to her back, curling slightly into her flesh
as her mouth devoured me. Her touch left the column of my neck,
drifting upward. Finally our lips met in a tender kiss. The mingling
of our tongues deepened, and my hands cupped her face.

Walking up backwards towards the lockers, I lick her lips before
bringing her lip between my teeth, hindering her participation in the
kiss. She broke free, her hands creeping for a brief moment in the
hair at the nape of my neck before traveling the length of my spine.

The shirt she had tried to remove dangled to the floor, half of it
still stuck in the back of my black cotton pants. Melding our bodies
together, my erection pressing snugly against her stomach. At the
feeling of it she gasped my name softly arching into me, drawing a
return murmur from me.

Her skin was moist from the shower she had taken, and her hair fell
in dark wet tangles, surrounding her face and into her eyes. Removing
an offending lock, I bent down to kiss her once more as my palms
filled with her breasts.

Running the pads of my thumbs over the aroused peaks, I rip my mouth
away from her, sucking in under needed oxygen. She whimpered with the
loss of my weight against her as I descended my lips trailing from
hers down the pale column of her neck, the gentle curve and hollow of
her shoulder down to the tops of her beautiful breasts.

With the first flick of my tongue against the pebbled nipple, her
head fell with a strangled shriek escaping her lips. My right hand
continued to manipulate her one breast, while I suckled on the left
one. Her pillowed flesh was soft and creamy, tasting of her, their
areolas and nipples the color of a dusky rose.

Her mewls of pleasure escalated into frantic moans, growing ever
louder with my ministrations against her sensitive buds. Pulling
roughly on the hard tit, she arched closer a scream building in her
throat, with the tug from my lips. Her hands grappled, but found
purchase in my hair. Releasing her breast, I blew cool breath
watching the fleshed tighten even harder.

Nibbling my way from the one breast to her other, had her shuddering
in my arms, as both of my hands trailed lightly down her sides,
falling to her hips. My fingers dig in for a moment, before I
followed the path of my hands, licking wet lines of lust down her
stomach.

Reaching the spot right about her curls, I looked up at her pleasured
face, smirking up to those hazel eyes before flashing a glimpse of my
tongue. Nuzzling my way to the apex of her thighs, I gently spread
her legs, lifting one onto my shoulder to get better access.

"Hmm… Buffy…" I breathed, when I smelled her arousal.

Then before she even had time to utter a sound, my mouth latched onto
her swollen bud, reveling in her husky shout. Working her up with a
soft scrapping of teeth, clinging lips, laving licks, I could feel
her body tighten and her hear her heartbeat pound.

The carnal gifts I plant at her feet, as I eased two fingers in o her
hot, tight vagina. Her juices were flowing and I added another
finger, slowly pumping her. As I increased my worship of my blonde
goddess however the pace increased even more so, when her hands
gripped my shoulders painfully hard and began to thrust against my
movements.

We worked together for her release, her swollen clit finding no mercy
with me. The duel movements had her toppling over the edge with an
ardor scream, her desire flooding into my mouth and I easily lap them
up. Her quick panting filled the locker room as the silence fell down
around us…

Then wickedly I bite with my blunt teeth into that ravaged bundle of
nerves…

~''~''~``~``~

He stilled his quill looking down at the words he had written. Over
time their writings back and forth had become increasingly more
sexual in content. Before it had started out as nonsense like telling
each other how much they missed the other during the day or what
trivial activities they did.

Buffy had started the first series of fantasies in one of
her `anywhere but here' games. She had written about wanting to be in
his arms, kissing him senseless. That part was nothing new, she told
him many times that she'd rather be with him then in the boring
learning environment, but the rest… oh the rest was another tale
altogether.

One of course he wasn't going to share with anyone.

Blowing a breath on the wet ink, he waited for it to dry before
closing the book and putting up his quill and ink well. Then he got
up to wash his hands, it didn't make sense to him that after all this
time of writing with a quill he still got the ink on his fingers. It
didn't seem like it was still possible, but with a shrug, he guessed
it was.

The water was luke warm to the touch when he stuck his hands under
the running water, scrubbing first with only his skin, before
deciding that wasn't going to work and getting some soap. Lathering
his hands, he watched as the soap with more scrubbing got rid of the
black stains on his skin.

Turning the water off, and reaching behind him at the same time, he
dried the water with one of his bronze colored towels.

"Ahgh…" he yawned tiredly, pulling off his shirt as he walked back
into his room.

A large yawn escaped him again, as he continued to strip down for
bed. His eyes began to droop from being up hours before sunset, even
now it was barely an hour before dawn. It wasn't like him. Slipping
between the sheets, his head just hit the pillow when frantic
pounding was beating down his door.

Fuck.

Groaning, he sighed in exasperation and sheer tiredness, pulled
himself by increments off of the bed, ready to just throw himself
onto the floor to do it. His limbs felt leaden and weighted down, but
the pounding on his door just wouldn't stop and when he heard her
terrified voice, he shook himself.

"ANGEL!" came her muffled scream again.

Standing up, he raced to the door on a second wind, skidding before
the door yanking on the bolt as he went by before righting himself.
Pulling the door open, he stepped back and watched with worry as his
little blonde slayer came rushing by him into the room.

"Buffy what is it? What's wrong?"

She flew around to face him, her eyes frightened as she wrung her
hands together. "Close the door, Angel please," she asked in a high
breathy voice, her teeth biting into her plump lower lip.

"Okay," he said simply and did what she asked.

"Oh Angel! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, what's wrong?" he asked her, walking over and taking her
in his arms, before pulling away to look into her eyes.

"I had a dream that Drusilla was alive."

"We'll deal with it, it'll be okay baby."

"-But she killed you! Right in front of me!"

Enveloping her trembling form into his arms, he hushed her, "It was
just a dream Buffy. Your okay, I'm okay, it wasn't real."

She pulled away, her eyes big and watery, her lips pouty as she
pleaded to him to take her seriously, "But it felt so real."

He just smiled at her softly, chucking her underneath her chin,
resting his forehead against hers. She was worrying over nothing,
because if all her dreams came true she and he would be living on the
moon wearing respectively: a snorkling suit with water fins to swim
in space with, and a bunny suit to do the moon walk in. Don't ask him
what that was all about, she just wrote it in her diary one day. He
gave him a kick and a half.

"Not all your dreams come true Buffy."

"But Angel, what about my dreams of the Master? What if- what if she
is alive? We just assumed they didn't get out of the fire! You
escaped once from a burning barn, why couldn't she be able to skip
out on a burning church?"

"We could also be living inside a coral reef too with sea plankton as
dinner."

"An-"

Stopping her tirade of words with a lingering kiss, he slid his
tongue between her lips, stroking her tongue with his. Then he slowly
drew away from her and looked down into her eyes with an arrogant
smirk, "An- what?"

"Bastard I can't remember you know that!"

He knew.

And he had the nerve to laugh at her as he pulled her over to the
couch. Sitting down on the chair, he sat her on his lap, nestling her
into his arms as he curled his body around her. With his chin on her
shoulder, he leaned his head away to look at her with a flash of
teeth.

When being suave doesn't work, go for the boy scout charm.

"You haven't told me what you wanted for your birthday you know."

"Surprise me," she breathed, brushing her lips against his before she
attacked his mouth devouring him with her senses.

Their lips mingled as her breath tickled his tongue. She was
breathing heavily from her assault on his mouth, her fingers digging
into his chest warming his skin. Moaning softly from low in his
throat, he dipped his tongue into the crevice where her lips met then
continued down to pluck her lower lip in between his. There he
massaged it with his tongue and roughed it with his teeth,
alternately smoothing and scraping the sweet pink skin.

Kissing himself slowly away from her, he opened his eyes to stare
down into her  sparkling blue eyes. Licking his own lips once, he
told her cheekily, "Oh I think you're going to enjoy your surprise."

"I am?" she asked him huskily.

Nodding, he moved to stand up and she got up with him as well.
Walking a little ways from her, he padded to his the door frame of
his room, and looked back at her.

"I'm beat, I'm going to go to bed, don't forget to go to school. We
wouldn't want you to be late."

And he wouldn't. Her mom would ground him from his fun even if it was
her birthday.

"I won't."

He left her to her devices and sank into his bed. His sweet comfy
bed. God he was so tired. All he wanted to do was sleep and some of
that sleeping constituted into fucking… err ahh making love… to his
girl in the other room, but that was virgin territory.

The bad joke was noted and he moved on, which constituted closing his
eyes and falling dead away into a deep sleep. He awoke hours before
sunset, like the other day and knew come daybreak he'd be cranky and
tired. Sifting on the bed, he tried to go back to sleep, but it
wasn't coming.

Sleep. More sleep. Must have.

His hand hit something and with a start, his head jerked, eyes
squinting he waited for them to adjust to the mode of actually seeing
things, and saw that there was a book mark in the diary he had
written in.

Curious, he leaned on his elbows and reached for the little black
book. Opening it to her marked spot, he red her tiny neat print and
looked up at his clock. What time was it? She was too cruel to write
this and not be here. She had to have known it drive him insane.

He looked down at the words again, and wondered why the powers were
against him.

~''~''~``~``~

Will you ever take my virginity Angel?

~''~''~``~``~

What type of woman would write something like that and not be here
for the consequences? Oh, that's right. Buffy. Couldn't she have
skipped school and stayed here with him? She should at least be in
his bathtub with bubbles frothing around her wet naked limbs.

Sometimes the unlife was so unfair.

Groaning he sat up in bed, the red silk pooling around his waist as
he gave an all over shudder before stepping out of the bed in his
black silk boxers. Normally he slept nude, but the fact was he left
her in the other room when he went to bed, and without the barrier of
clothing… well there was no telling what might happen.

His strength of will could easily crack under the sensual pleasure of
her company if he didn't do something to protect himself. He was a
male and he did have limits.

Exiting the room he headed over to the kitchen to have some dinner.
Midnight was lunch and breakfast an hour or two before dawn. He liked
labeling his schedule as such, for it meant he had two meals when she
did or there abouts.

After a swift intake of nourishment, he went into his training room
to let off some excess energy on the punching bag. Wrapping his
knuckles in some wrap he padded over to his victim on bare feet.
After briefly steadying the bag he began a fury of punches at the
things as he circled around on the balls of his feet.

Sweat was beading on his brow from the exertion of the constant
attack. There was an ache between his shoulders from the
reverberating force of the blows. Stopping for a moment he leaned
against the navy blue bag before stepping away.

Taking the towel he left on the press bench, he wiped the trickle of
sweat off of his forehead and then applied it to his chest. With a
roll of his shoulders and a twist of his neck, he sat the towel to
the side and walked into the center of the room.

Once there he settled his body into still lines, relaxing the tense
muscles in his back. Removing himself from his surroundings he began
to execute the slow precise motions. Elongating the lines of his
body, he spent about a half hour on it when interruption shattered
the peaceful environment he had escaped to.

The phone was ringing shrilly as he snapped out of the mood, hustling
around the wall into his kitchen. Thinking of it now, he noted dryly
that he should have invested in more then one phone, or at least in a
portable phone so he wouldn't have to drop everything to reach it.

Grabbing the phone he spoke hastily as he clutched it to his
ear, "Hello?"

"Ah good, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to reach you."

"Oh hey Giles, nah, I was here but I only have one phone and its in
the kitchen."

"Oh I see, I'll keep that in mind. You really ought to get another
phone you know."

"I kind of figured that one out. So why are you calling? Something
wrong? Buffy was here this morning talking to me about her dreams in
which Drusilla was alive… she isn't… alive… is she?"

"Not as far as I can conclude. I've made arrangements with Willy so
he would inform me about things of that nature."

"What sort of arrangement?" He asked, eyes narrowing, a note of
suspicion in his voice.

"The kind with financial gain on his part."

"I don't trust him," he replied with a soft growl.

"Neither do I Angel. Neither do I, but that wasn't the reason I
called you for."

Trust Giles to change the topic with such a great sense of ease.

"Did you call about… the ahh…?" he said, then glanced around making
sure she hadn't entered the apartment without his knowing.

"Actually yes. The party has been arranged tonight at the Bronze.
Would you be so kind as to help set up?"

"You don't even have to ask Giles, you know I will."

"Its polite," the watcher said with a stuffy British accent.

The outraged tone of those words made him laugh, switching the phone
from to the other ear. He had something he wanted to ask Giles about,
needing the man's opinion.

"Uh Giles, what'd you get Buffy for her birthday?"

"Some nice new engraved weapons."

"Weapons? You sure she'll like that?"

"Honestly Angel, if I knew what to buy a teenaged girl, I'd get her
something that wasn't as practical as steel edged swords."

"Yeah," he said amused at the other man's flusterment. "I see you
point. Okay so sentimental is better then practical. No vacuums, no
dish washing detergent, and no cooking utensils… check."

"Was that supposed to be a joke? Well I guess you are worried more
about your choice then I am, you are her boyfriend after all. More is
expected of you then of the watcher.

"Not worried Giles, scared shitless. She has to like- no love- my
gift."

"You'll think of something."

"I am such a jackass though! She said to surprise her and I said
she'd like her surprise and I have nothing to give her!"

"You are in a predicament and she's the slayer. Watch your heart
Angel, wouldn't want you to become a pile of dust now would we?"

"Har, har… well I got to get going Giles. I'll see you later."

"Good day."

They hung up and he stared at the phone for a few minutes before
turning on his heel and entering his bathroom to clean up. A quick
shower and a clothes change later, he was all set to leave the
apartment. Shrugging into his duster, he closed the door behind him
and ran into his vampire neighbor, Dominick, who was holding a trash
bag in his hand.

"You in a hurry to go somewhere this early?"

"I have to get a present for Buffy's birthday."

"So we're still on for tonight? Good, give me a second I'm going to
throw this out and come with you."

As he waited the troubling question as to what to get her plagued his
mind, it had to be something special. Not something trite, but
something she would always remember and cherish…

Dominick came back in a looping swagger still retained from his years
as a sailor prior to being turned. He was wearing a 1700 French laced
up shirt, with wide fringe cuffs, and 1990 black stretch jeans, with
black boots to clinch the outfit. His hair was in a braid at the back
of his head, his eyes twinkling in mirth at his Master's predicament.

Dominick went over to the sewer entrance and picked the lid up,
holding it as he waited for him to walk over and get into the sewers.
He loved the sewers, the sanitation in America allowed him to go
almost anywhere at anytime. Sunlight be damned. Among the visiting
places was the new age store, the mall, the novelty shop, the book
store, and her school, should he get that desperate.

As Dominick climbed through the manhole, pausing to place the lid
back in its proper place, he asked the damning question, "So do you
know what you're going to get the her?"

Groaning loudly as his answer, he pushed on ahead, trying to lose his
nuisance of a friend. Of the two boarders in his converted
establishment near the Bronze, Dominick was the one he had more in
common with. Just a few years younger then himself, the vampire that
trailed him quietly was not a master but of the master's lines, he
would never be powerful to control the vampires, he was almost a
minion. Almost.

So for a million dollars what was he going to get for Buffy?

Insert: Jeopardy Theme Music.

They walked a little ways apart, treading carefully through the
sewers. The distance could have been shorter if but for the twists
and turns that formed a jumbled pattern under the streets. Living
underground, they wouldn't get lost, and perhaps with the exclusion
of Buffy the rest of the world would.

Soon they were ascending into the novelty shop, where the atmosphere
was dark. The veil of opaqueness was only broken by the flickering of
small white candles in the heavily draped store. The incense was
thick about his nose, almost chokingly sweet.

Dominick went over towards the Native artifacts and he went towards
the more European styled ones. He passed trinket of mismatched
origin, most from the orient, when he found a collection of dolls
finely painted and dressed. Horrified by the reminder of Drusilla and
her love for playing `Mommy' to them, he stumbled away as fast as he
could from the handmade dolls- right into a stand of jewelry.

"Damn," he muttered hunching down to pick up all the little odds and
ends.

The award for the most graceful goes out to….

Scrambling, he didn't pay any attention to nice organization as he
hurriedly stuffed the jewelry back into little display cases. He made
a regular mess of things while he was at it. Dominick came over and
began to help as well, also placing the jewelry into a jumble heap.
He wasn't the only one! When everything was off the floor and put
away on the table, the younger vampire stood giving him a look.

"Don't ask," came the warning.

"I wasn't going to. In all that mess did you find anything?"

Glumly he shook his head, smiled sheepishly at the mess of the odd
jewelry collection, and ran a hand through the thickness of his hair.
Nope, he didn't find anything but embarrassment. Oh, and he probably
buried his `cool' within that mess too.

What Next?

Maybe that wasn't the best question to ask at the moment.

"I found something, I think she may even like it," Dominick said
holding up a feathered and beaded choker necklace.

The necklace was perfect, he thought as he watched the vampire walk
to the cash register to pay for the gift. It wasn't fair! Really. He
finds the perfect gift so easily its not even funny. The shimmery
emerald macaw feathers, black on white striped parakeet feathers, and
the black beads entwined on the short red cord, was going to be
something she would wear. Not on occasions where she'd see Dominick
but places, even if it was patrolling.

Still, there was nothing for him to give.

There had to be a law against that somewhere.

He was going to be in the doghouse… Unless… silk scarves, leather
ties, chocolate syrup, strawberries, scented candles, body oil
(edible of course), soft satin sheets, no clothes… and she did write-

"Don't even think it buddy. I see that look and just stop thinking
right now. If she expects you to make love to her, its not a gift you
moron. You and I both know Angel, that with that intention you would
only cheapen the experience."

"I know you're right Nick, but this is ridiculous! I'm usually so
good at finding the perfect gift, but this time…"

"It's different. You love her and that changes everything. Not to
mention you aren't looking to horrify the girl too."

He nodded, too true, his demon would have a field day on an occasion
like this coming up with the most gruesome gift he could imagine. But
screaming wasn't the reaction he was going for… no wait that would be
wrong… he just wanted it later in the throes of a passionate embrace.

Did he mention just how screwed he was?

"So in the end are you looking for brownie points? Or sex points?"

Given his options he'd prefer door number four, all of the above,
because he also wanted, "Love points."

"You are insane," Dominick laughed, clapping him on the back and
steering them out of the shop through the back entrance.

Dominick kept him company as they browsed everywhere that they could
think of. Nothing was what he wanted; hell, he didn't even know what
he wanted to give. Maybe that was the reason why he came back to his
apartment at sundown empty handed. The two of them parted ways, as
they went to get ready.

Weary and disappointed, he did the only thing he knew he could do at
the moment. He showered again, changed clothes and got his apartment
ready in the misplaced hopes that she'd still want to join him this
evening. It was while he was lighting the flickering candles, that
the gleam shone on an object on his bureau.

Wondering what it was, he walked over and found it to be his chain
with her penny she had once given him and the Claddagh ring his
mother had once worn before his demon had killed her. It was a family
heirloom that had been passed down generation to generation when the
eldest son planned to take a bride. The silver was blackened a little
from age, but still elegant in its simplicity.

It was a symbol of love, devotion, and companionship. Even the demon
kept it, not knowing why, but not letting the object off of his
person at any time. Now he was more lenient, taking it off before he
did something that might ruin the piece. He was okay with that,
considering how he too treasured the object worn by his mother all
his mortal life.

She had tried to pass it onto him, but he had again and again refused
her. He always told her there was no one he knew he'd give it to, and
how it didn't want to marry someone just for the sake of marrying
them. The ring, was also a sign of marriage between his people, even
giving it to a girl meant he had wed her. He hadn't been ready then.

Slipping the ring off of the cord, he held it in his palm moving it
under the light from the candles, not seeing anything that might
resemble a reflection on him in it. It got old, being invisible,
sometimes he wished just to see his reflection one more time, but
most of the time it was enough to see Buffy watching him. In her eyes
he saw himself, not literally, but he saw himself the way she saw
him. Maybe that was a gift he'd only have notice being invisible.

The craftsmanship of the ring was infinitely better then the shoddy
work done by today's workers. Their use of tools increased their
carelessness, their time wasn't spent on perfecting the jewelry but
more into getting it done fast just because they could.

There was only one girl he wanted to be tied down with, and he wasn't
even sure she'd be happy with him after his bungling up of her
birthday present. Seriously, maybe he should have gotten some tidbit
jewelry or hey, take Giles' advice and get her some weapons. It
couldn't be much worse then going to her empty handed.

Wait a minute… hold that thought.

He wasn't empty handed!

He wanted to belong to Buffy and have her belong to him.

Setting the ring down on top of the dresser, he pulled open the first
drawer, and pulled away some of the black socks to find a little box.
Opening it, he took out the larger ring and slipped it on his middle
finger with the heart pointing inwards. Taking the feminine version
of the traditional Claddagh, he gently placed it within the folds of
the jeweler's box and stuck it in his pocket.

Tonight he would marry her and take her to their bed and make love to
her in every possible sense.

She was his mate and the one who rightfully deserved this ring.

She was his reason and his insanity, but that was beside the point.

Taking his house keys, he double checked the room before turning
around and leaving. He needed to help Giles set up. Not one to do it
all by his lonesome, he'd get the goofballs upstairs to help him out.
After all they needed to earn their keep.

They must have been reading his mind, because both Saber and Nick
were waiting outside his door on the other side of the hall with
wrapped gifts. They both held a look, watching him to see if he
looked like the dog he was, all he gave them was a sly grin.

"You got something for her?" Saber asked, his green eyes narrowing
trying to see if he was lying.

"Not just something, but the perfect gift."

"How perfect?" Nick asked suspicious.

"Oh Dominick don't be so pessimistic. Its not what my insane and
frustrated brain had come up with earlier."

Dominick just shook his head as if to say, `Whatever you say man.'
There was no trust these days. No trust at all. But what did it
matter? He was out of the doghouse, it had to have been divine
intervention to light those candles and see that necklace with the
penny and ring on it. Thank you Upstairs!

Since they weren't walking through the sewers, and since the Bronze
was very close, they were there in under five. None of them talked,
because everyone was kind of broody with the exception of Saber, he
was just quiet.

However the three of them looked like they stepped off the silver
screen with their dress. Saber was wearing a navy turtleneck and
black pants; Dominick was wearing a white sleeveless tee, the first
he'd seen, and tight black leather pants; and he was wearing a forest
green shirt and some dark blue denim jeans.

When they walked inside, Giles looked up from his clipboard by the
pool table and smiled. He knew like Buffy about the two vampires that
joined their side and they came often to the library with loads of
intel on the newest bad guys. He had been worried before, but had
grown use to them like he had to the souled vampire.

He noticed Xander and Willow putting up streamers, and could hear
really well how much Cordeila complained about her participation in
the event. There was a new person, with oddly dyed hair, someone
Saber would like to hang out with. Which was exactly what was
happening right now.

"Good you're here," Giles noted, then pointed over to the sound
system, "Why don't you and Dominick set that up?"

"I could have brought my band," the new person spoke up.

Giles replied without looking up, "I heard they only play five cords,
I asked Willow and Xander to pick out the music."

"Which is a good thing," Saber said nodding at the other two vampires
in the room, "they'd have brought some really old shit to listen to."

"I take offense to that!" Nick shouted, while he lifted the system up
with him. "I think Jazz and Blues are so much nicer to listen to then
your noise."

"Noise!" Xander and Saber yelled in outrage at the same time before
sharing a look and grinning.

"Its going to be torture," Giles mumbled, walking over to help
Cordeila set up the food.

"Giles, I already helped. You know chips and dip, so why am I still
helping? I've done my part."

He tuned them out and worked on putting lift into the equipment he
and Nick were lifting up onto the stage and off of the dance floor.
They had been surprised that the Bronze had let them host the party,
it wasn't a shock to him.

He owned it, so he closed it down for a night. It wouldn't hurt
business here at all. Buffy's party had been much more important, but
he didn't want his ownership known, so he had rented it out to Giles
very cheap about 25 dollars cheap.  His hired manager had had a fit,
he had threatened to fire and the guy had shut up. It had been
entertaining he supposed.

Hearing a car pull up, he stopped what he was doing to shout out to
the others, "Time to hide, I hear Jenny's car."

The lights were dimmed instantly by Willow, who took the new guys
hand and pulled him behind the pillar. Probably to kiss a little, as
well as to hide. Xander took behind the pool table with Giles.
Cordeila groused again and crouched down with them. Dominick stayed
by the stereo system, to work unnoticed in finishing the setup. Saber
took behind the bar, and that left him standing like a moron in the
middle of the room.

"Angel hide!" Willow hissed at him, leaning around the column to do
so.

Looking around he didn't see a spot to hide his frame, and when he
picked up voices he began to panic. Where was he going to hide? The
voices were closer, and he ducked immediately behind stairs to peer
out at the room like he usually did to watch Buffy when she was here
with her friends at late afternoon and early night.

"I don't know why he gave me this address," Jenny said as she walked
over the threshold, "Okay, now this is beyond strange. Are we suppose
to pick the book up first?"

He saw her walk through, wearing a little white lace top and a black
miniskirt with a string bow riding low at hip level. She was gorgeous
as she looked around just as confused but with a little more
suspicion in her gaze.

"Hello anyone here? Giles?" Buffy called out, just as the lights
tuned up causing the two women to blink rapidly to adjust to the
light.

Everyone was popping up from their places shouting, yelling,
shrieking, and screaming, "SURPRISE!"

Buffy suspicion turned into a delighted grin, as she looked at them
all, her eyes landing on him for a lingering moment before turning to
the others, "You did this for me?"

"You only turn 17 once, and when I heard Willow and Xander talking
about it, I thought we could all surprise you," Giles said warmly,
cleaning his glasses.

"Why wasn't I told?" Jenny asked a bit hurt.

"Isn't it obvious?" Xander asked, grabbing some chips and stuffing
them in his mouth, "You needed to not act but be genuinely
going, `what's happening here?'"

"Rupert?"

"What he said," Giles spoke before walking over to her with a napkin
and some strawberries.

With that the party got underway, when Dominick switched the music on
to the first burned CD. Willow dragged her friend out onto the floor,
wrapping her arms around his neck and they danced. He didn't care
what the others were doing, he just walked over to Buffy and smiled
warmly down at her.

"So I take it I'm another year older hun?"

"Seems that way."

"Does this keep you from being my cradle robbing creature of the
night boyfriend now that I'm older?" Buffy asked with a grin, leaning
in to kiss away his reply.

He touched her tongue with his for a intimate hello, before pulling
back, taking her hand in his and walking her out to the floor as
well. She wrapped her arms around his neck, swaying close, then
closer, until finally she was pressed tightly into the curve of his
torso.

It was a nice sensation to feel her hips move from side to side
against him. She could tell how nice too, because she took the
opportunity to glide a little harder against him, feeling his
erection jump between them. She also had the nerve to giggle.

Playful tease.

"Did you get my note?" she asked him, looking up into his eyes,
seeing in them both the desire to be alone. All alone.

"How could I miss it? You should have skipped school and stayed there
with me. I had a very nice bubble bath fantasy with you in it."

She blushed, but also grinned at him as she leaned in to kiss away
his words. Their lips pressed against each other softly, rubbing
against the other's skin to create a tasty friction. His lips warmed
under her touch, as they kissed. Her mouth opened to grant him access
and he took the invitation pressing his tongue against hers before
sliding it along underneath.

They broke apart many moments later, when Xander tapped his shoulder
and demanded that the smooching fest end before he gagged and that it
was cake time. Nodding, he took Buffy's hand and directed them over
to the table.

Who cared if he wanted to strangle the guy for interrupting his
quality foreplay time?

He could hide the body and no one would be the wiser.

"Don't forget to make a wish," Saber said before winking, as he set
the cake in front of her.

A rousing rendition of the birthday song was song, and amazingly
enough, he didn't know the words. The only birthday song he knew, was
too impolite and Irish to say here in this company. When Xander and
Saber began to chant the ending with `many more,' in it he got a
little annoyed.

Trust them to drag it out when he had candles and chocolate syrup at
his apartment.

He could no longer hide his desire without Buffy being right in front
of him, and she took her job seriously, pressing back against him,
swaying and rubbing along his hardened length. The little minx
wouldn't quit, not that he minded, but there had to be a principle
she was ignoring somewhere.

Pulling her hair back, Buffy bent over to blow out the candles, doing
yet another naughty little thing to him to keep his mind on sex. Not
that he always thought of sex, but -okay that was a lie, he always
thought about sex with her.

"What did you wish for?" Oz asked.

Yes he finally figured out the guy's name. Took him long enough
didn't it?

"Shh, Oz if she tells, it won't come true," Willow said giving Buffy
a knowing look. He couldn't see her returned look, but it probably
displayed some of the same qualities as the redhead's.

He was doomed, if he hadn't been doomed before.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur, until he was antsy and
violate. A person, a male person, wasn't suppose to be kept in such
an agony. His state of being hadn't changed, and the constant arousal
was making him a very unfriendly person to be around, so he lurked in
a corner to calm down some.

Unfortunately his absence, had left Buffy to the grasping claws of
Xander. He was dancing wildly with her, and gruesome mental images of
broken limbs were coloring his mind. The music kept playing and Buffy
kept switching partners, dancing with everyone and that included
Giles. Their dance was very father-daughterly and he could ignore it.
The others just pissed him off.

Having good intentions and having to stay around to see them played
out, wasn't what he had in mind. It was past one in the morning and
he was betting that the candles had all flickered out by now. Who
knew that a party starting at 7 P.M. wouldn't end at 10 P.M.? He
should have listened to his manager, cause this was ridiculous.

Damn her for writing that note in the diary. Damn him for reading it.
Damn this situation that he's in.

Swallowing thickly, he faced away from the dance floor and saw
Cordeila, handing him a drink and smilingly benignly at him.
"You're looking a little tense."

"Was it that easy to tell? I want to get out of here."

"Why don't you? I want to get out of this joint too."

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Shit.

"Umm Cordeila, I uhh, I'm staying."

She pouted at him, stepping closer. "You did a nice thing staying
this long, but she's treating you like a pile of dirt, I could treat
you much nicer."

"You smell like Xander," he scrambled, backing away as fast as he
could.

She'd solved his little erection problem quite fast, if only she
hadn't actually been in front of him it might almost be perfect. He
watched Cordeila turn flustered, then grow angry. He needed a full
scrubbing with anti septic to get this moment expunged from his
memory.

Praise Buffy for noticing this and getting jealous. Praise her for
getting him out of that place and saying all of their goodbyes.
Praise on high for letting the nightmare end! He wanted to kiss the
ground in his praise, but instead pulled his hard won prize into his
apartment and attacked her lips with his.

"Thank God, that's over," he groaned into the kiss, biting at her
lips.

"You were certainly having a `hard' time," she crooned, licking the
crease where upper and lower lips met.

Fisting his hands in her hair, he demanded tribute from her for his
pain that he experienced this evening. She gladly paid the price,
arching into him copying the motion of his hands in her hair. She
sighed, deepening the kiss, exploring the inside of his mouth as if
trying to memorize it once more. Letting go of his purchase in her
hair, he broke the kiss and yanked the shirt over her head, revealing
a matching lace bra.

He had to stop the frenzied pace he had started to admire her perky
breasts in the gauzy fabric. Rumbling a pure look of male
satisfaction, he bent to swing her up into his arms, laughing at her
shriek of delight. He still had to give her his gift, but it would
come later. Much, much, much later if he had any say.

Carrying her into his room, he kicked the door shut and listened to
her gasp of shock. The low burning candles were almost ready to
flicker out and the effect was astonishing. He set her down slowly on
the coverlets of the bed, leaning his weight on his palms on either
side of her. Stealing a gentle kiss, he murmured his love to her as
he reached into his pant's pocket.

Pulling out the little box, he looked up into her eyes as declared
tenderly, "I love you Buffy Anne Summers. Every part of me rejoices
with that love, from my body to my heart to my soul. I love all of
you with all of me. Tonight I plan to express to you that love, and
this is the first step."

He opened the little box, watching her face as she took in the silver
Claddagh. He watched her eyes go moist, and could hear her heart
beating faster as her fingers went out hesitantly to touch the ring.
He helped her take it out, holding it in his fingers, angling the
ring so that the light caught and reflected back from it.

Placing it onto her ring finger, he kissed her temple before
asserting his claim from before, "The hands symbolize companionship,
the crown devotion and loyalty, and the heart…" he paused, completing
the task of putting it on her finger faced inward, "The heart is the
love in the binding of two people. You wear it with the heart facing
inward to show that you belong to someone. Like this."

He showed her his hand, with his own ring facing inward. She wrapped
the pads of her fingers around his ring, bringing his hand to her
lips. Placing a affectionate kiss on it, her eyes meeting his as she
intoned just as tenderly as he had, "I love you Liam Angelus
O'Connor. Angel. I love you so much."

He hadn't known she'd known his real name, he stiffened slightly
looking on in askance at her. Her eyes grew bold, when his lacked the
courage to voice his thoughts, as she took his face in her hands,
forcing him to keep looking at her.

"Remember when I told you about looking you up last Halloween? Its
how I learned your full name Angel. This is the kind of moment where
you acknowledge the past and let it stay there. This is a moment full
of love and trust, and I do love you so much."

She took his mouth in a sweet kiss, then her lips trailed along his
cheek bones to his ear, where she whispered, "I love all of you with
all of me. Forever."

"Buffy," he choked, gripping her to his body before lowering her with
quieted strength to the pillows.

He kissed her nose, tracing his lips down its length to her lips,
opening them with his tongue, stroking wetly against her own. As he
kissed her his hand trailed from his relaxed grip on her shoulder
down to the tips of her fingers. Pulling away, he brought her hand to
his mouth, suckling on each digit with a severe hollowing of his
cheeks.

Her eyes fluttered from the sensation of his working mouth, and when
they opened to meet his once again, he saw the vixen emerge in one
smile and gleam of her eyes. Removing her pinky from his mouth, he
licked the crevices of her palm, nuzzling it with his nose, never
taking his eyes off of hers.

Leaning up she bit his shoulder lightly through his shirt, gaining a
groan from him, as her hands came up to trace his chest, her fingers
idly flicking over his hard nipples. With a growl, he plunged his
face into the curve of her neck sucking a piece of flesh into his
mouth and nursing it. His hands laid motionless at the sides of her
hips, his eyes closed enjoying the feel of her mouth upon him.

"Buffy," he groan when she hit a sensitive spot on his side, near the
curve of his waist.

Halting her assault on his sensations, he pushed her back once more
into the sheets, intent on devouring her. The taste of her skin held
a slight aftertaste of her soap that she washed with, hazelnut coffee
and creme de la cream, she never liked wearing the same fragrance
more then once. After using up a soap she always got another brand,
another smell, he liked guessing the scents. She liked him guessing.

"Angel," she breathed, her hands caressing the muscles in his back as
he stroked his tongue along the line between her breasts to her
bellybutton.

He stayed there, dipping in and out of that little crevice wetting
the skin around it in intricate and complex patterns. Her legs came
up to cradle his shoulders, her skirt riding up hindering his
tasting. Breaking away, he focused on getting rid of the annoying bit
of cloth. He untied the bow, sliding his hands underneath her bottom
trying to get at the zipper. She helped with a small smile on her
lips, with a lifting of her hips, a sweet sigh escaping from her at
the lingering caress of his hands on her curves before removing the
offending article altogether.

When he had removed the skirt from around her legs, he was kneeling
by her tiny feet with lilac painted toenails. With a serious
expression on his face, he bent her left leg placing the foot on his
thigh, as he ran his hands over her calf. 

The sound of rain hitting and running down through the rain pipe
startled them both. They had known it was going to rain, but hadn't
known they would have been able to hear it in his basement apartment.
The sounds of the droplets pinging against the metal on their way
down was music to accompany their mating.

"It's raining," he told her redundantly.

"Pouring…" she returned with a moan, stretching out with her arms
over her head, fingers curled slightly into her hair.

"You look like a goddess."

"And you a god with too much clothing on."

She sat up, wrapping the leg on his thigh around and behind him, as
her hands pulled the wrinkled green shirt out of the waist of his
jeans. Running her fingers underneath along his abdomen, grinning
beautifully at his shudder, earning a dark look from him. Her own
eyes were darkened by passion as she leaned over to kiss away his
dark expression.

Pulling the shirt over his head, she went back to munching on him,
taking nibbles out of his flesh, and soothing the bits with her
tongue. Wickedly, he brought his hands up to cup her weighty breasts
in his hands, circling her nipples without coming into contact with
them. Her frustrated mewl had him reaching back behind her to remove
the flimsy excuse of a bra.

It fell into the pile of clothes at the foot of their bed. He watched
her breasts bounce from their release, before he descended upon them.
She was nude with the exception of her matching panties, her fingers
curling and scratching his sides as he mouthed open kisses along her
sensitive flesh.

Her dusky nipples were always extremely responsive to the smallest of
caresses, and he always took care not to be to rough with them.
Wrapping his mouth around one little hard mound of flesh, his traced
the edges of his teeth around the aroused peak. As he cradled her
breast with one palm, he sucked, licked, nipped, and teased her other
one with his mouth, loving on the warm flesh.

When he switched his attentions to the other breast, he found himself
being caressed through the jeans and instantly began to curse their
existence as a barrier between her hand and his penis. He hadn't
realized he had paused in his sensual feast, and instantly began to
pick up the pace as her hands fumbled at his belt, yanking it out of
its hoops and unsnapping the jeans.

"Help me get rid of this," she begged, still struggling to have him
loose the jeans.

Complying, he let go of her pillowed flesh and added his hands to
hers in the attempts to free himself. It was a process he didn't wish
to repeat again any time soon. Kicking away his jeans, he stood there
by the side of the bed naked and hard before her.

He watched her expression take in his length and thickness, saw her
pleased expression turn worried with the common virginal
thought, `how will it even fit inside without tearing me?' He sought
to soothe her fears with a gentle rain of kisses to her eyelids, his
hand taking a hold of hers and bringing it to his penis, holding her
there until he was sure she wouldn't pull away.

Her hand was scorching hot against his cool skin, heating him
instantly as she began to stroke the length of him in long slow
passes of her hand. His head fell backwards, when her tongue licked a
path of wet fire  from his base to his head, tasting the end of him
by taking just a little bit of his length into her warm mouth.

He wanted to pump his hips and force her to take more of him, but
instead held himself very still while she learned the feel and
texture of him. She grew bolder as his growls merged into one
continuous sound, he opened his eyes to watch her pink lips draw him
further into her mouth, her blonde hair fanning out around his thighs.

Soft moist sucking noises came from their intimate joining, her hands
played massaging his thighs, hips, and butt. Letting out a guttural
moan, he arched into her mouth, feeling himself hit the back of her
throat, before he suddenly stopped pulling out of her.

Bending down, he kissed her mouth, picking her up an throwing her
further onto the bed, not near the edge. Prowling towards her with a
feral gleam in his eyes, he shed her of her underwear in one fluid
motion, leaving her lying there as bare as he was.

Sipping at the chalice of her mouth, he pressed a thumb to her clit,
testing her readiness. Her ragged screech told him just how close she
was, and deftly he entered two of his fingers into her tight virginal
sheath, working her up with gentle thrusting of his digits.

"ANGEL!" she screamed, arching into his hand as the wave of release
broke over her.

And before she was even worked down, he entered her with one quick
thrust of his hips, settling in as far as he could go, breaking her
hymen in the process. He felt her stiffen but the pain hadn't reached
her yet because of her recent euphoria, but she knew what had
happened.

"I love you," he told her, wrapping a strand of her blonde hair
around his finger, stealing a kiss.

"I love you Angel," she whispered quietly, moving underneath him.

Her heat surrounded him, drawing him in and singeing him, enveloping
him in her oh so tight vagina. She clenched around him like a vise,
his thrusts becoming sloppy because of it. The slow pace he had
started with became harsher, faster, their pants rising in the air
around them adding to the music of the rain.

Each shove of his hips, drove him deeper into her, touching the mouth
of her womb. He watched her head fall back, her eyes closing in the
pleasure pain agony, tension running through the length of her body.
A silent scream escaped from her parted lips, as she shattered around
him. It was fucking amazing the feel of her muscles rippling down the
length of him, and he couldn't hold on anymore.

Thrusting with three swift movements, he followed her over the edge
with a growl emptying his reserves into her waiting body that was
still arching underneath him. Laughing softly, he kissed her roughly,
before letting his head fall onto the pillow beside her. He felt her
tugging on his back, and obediently he let his weight settle down
upon her taking it off of his forearms.

Their sweaty bodies pressed together, smiles on both of their spent
faces, rolling off and out of her, he settled onto his side, pulling
her into the curve of his body, spooning her. He was tired and from
the sweet sigh from his beloved so was she. Hugging her closer, he
laid his head on her hair, languidly rubbing the skin on her arm.

"You weren't wearing the penny," she mumbled sleepily.

Confused, he leaned up on his elbow, looking down at her with a
question in his eyes, "Hun?"

"The penny, you weren't wearing it."

"Oh."

"That's okay you were wearing your gift to me, my gorgeous bum."

"I'm not a bum," he defended pretending outrage.

"True, you're my bum."

"I'll show you bum!" he vowed, hearing her giggles, at he attack her
with renewed energy.

---