It was a dream.  It had to be a dream, because that was the only place where she and Angel could be together like this.  His lips touched her face and neck in soft kisses; his hands roamed over her body, softly stroking her back, her breasts, her buttocks.  It was pleasantly relaxing.

"Angel?" she whispered, still half asleep.  His breath came out in a little gust of amusement on her neck, tickling her.

"You were expecting maybe Brad Pitt?"  He raised his head.  She could sense, if not see, his smile.

Buffy remembered then, and also smiled.  "No.  Only you."  He smoothed her hair back with his hand and they kissed, soft, tender kisses that sank deep into her soul.   She caressed his chest, and suddenly realized that he was naked.  "When did you get undressed?"

"A little while ago.  You were sleeping."  They were lying on their sides, their faces almost touching.  She kissed his lips, murmuring, "Why didn't you wake me up?"

She felt his smile.  "I thought I just did."  His lips left her mouth, traveled down her neck and across her shoulders, then back up.  Nuzzling her throat, he said, "I figured you needed your rest."

Shivering as a particularly sensitive nerve responded to his mouth, she said, "Not as much as I needed this."  Their lips met in a long kiss.  Then Angel stopped and pulled away.

"What?" she asked, finding it hard to catch her breath.  "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."  The mattress shook as he got up.  In the darkness, all she could make out was a dim, pale outline.  She saw him walk a few steps, heard a soft click, and a lamp in the corner turned on.  The sudden light, though not particularly bright, still made her blink.

Angel walked back to the bed.  "I want to see you," he told her softly, lying down again.

Buffy felt a blush heating her cheeks, but then he kissed her again and shyness was forgotten.  His hand stroked the side of her breast; fingertips brushed over her nipple, sending a tingle of excitement through her.  He drew back and looked down at her, gently stroking the tender skin as it began to contract.  His head lowered.  The cool touch of his tongue made her cry out; her nipple drew up into a hard, tight bud.

A sudden flood of emotion took her by surprise; tears spilled over.  She caught her breath in a sob.

"Buffy, what is it?"  Angel raised his head.  She struggled to speak.  "Nothing.  It's just, this is - this is the way I remembered it, in my dreams."

He kissed her. "I know.  I've made love to you so many times in my dreams," he told her, gazing into her eyes.  "It's time to make the dreams come true."

"Yes."  She wiped her eyes.  "Hold me."

Angel gathered her in his arms, and she almost moaned at the exquisite feel of his skin against her naked breasts.   They kissed, gently at first, then more urgently, mouths open, tongues darting.  Newly awakened nerve endings, long dormant, responded with a rush of sensation that left them breathless.  Their passion mounted, quickly spiraled out of control.   His weight pushed her into the mattress until she gasped for breath.  He kissed her throat, moving down her body to her breasts, where his lips and tongue brought her to the brink of orgasm.  His hand, pressing rhythmically between her legs, did the rest.  Liquid heat burst inside her; her body shook with convulsions.  She fell back on the bed, panting.

He held her close, trying to ignore the insistent throbbing of his own need.  Then Buffy took him in her hand, stroking his swollen length.  He shivered at her touch.

"Buffy - " he choked out, his teeth clenched tight in an effort at control.

"I know," she murmured.  "It's all right."  She slipped out of her panties and he moved between her legs.  Slowly he entered her, groaning.  She was so tight, so wet; her hot, satiny depths caressed every inch of his rigid flesh.  He pulled back, and heard her gasp out his name as he thrust again, the sound almost lost in his own enraptured cry.  Fire exploded through his nerves.

Again he rose and fell, and this time he stayed in place while she strained upward against him.  She cried out, shuddering, and he felt the spasmodic clenching of her muscles around him.  Then the rivers of fire within him rushed together in a whirling mass of sensation, and he cried out while his body shuddered in orgasm.

Buffy moaned as Angel entered her body, but not from pain, though after so long an abstinence there was pain, or what would have been pain had she not been so ready for him.  She could feel the moisture between her legs as he withdrew then gently thrust into her again.

A dozen pinpoints of quivering sensation blazed into renewed life with the pressure/friction, and she groaned his name, heard him gasping, felt the quivering of his muscles as he again pulled back then drove into her.  The force of his thrust wrung a cry from her lips, and she wrapped her legs around his thighs, striving for more closeness.  Her vaginal muscles throbbed violently, and she could feel his turgid length impaling her.  Then she climaxed with an intensity that left her barely aware of Angel's orgasmic convulsions, or of his impassioned shout.

Long minutes later Angel slowly realized he was still lying atop Buffy, his weight pinning her to the bed.  Rolling to one side, he carried her with him in his arms.  "I'm sorry," he whispered.  "I didn't mean to crush you."

"Were you?" Buffy asked huskily.  "I didn't even notice."  They were silent then, content to exchange soft little kisses.  Their bodies were still joined; neither one made a move to change position.  They slept awhile, then Buffy awakened to Angel rocking gently against her, sending pleasant little tingles through her groin.

"That's nice," she breathed.  Several minutes later: "That's even nicer."

He was hard again, filling her completely.  This time their lovemaking was a bit more leisurely, minus the overwhelming passion that had consumed them so utterly before.  They had time to explore one other with hands and mouths for almost ten minutes before losing it.

Gasping, they fell back onto the pillows.  This time they separated, though Buffy instantly snuggled next to Angel's side.  He held her close.  "How soon til dawn?" she asked through a yawn.

He considered.  "A couple of hours.  Why?"  Lassitude crept through his limbs; he stifled a yawn.  Buffy mumbled, "Just wondering how much time we have left."  Her eyes closed.

"Oh," he murmured, blinking.  "Just need to take a little ... nap . . . first."  He closed his eyes and was instantly asleep.

Buffy woke first, this time.  The room was still dark, but a paler rectangle where the window was located revealed that dawn was imminent.  Next to her, Angel was sound asleep, his pale skin dappled by shadows.

Buffy watched him, smiling as she remembered the night he'd spent in her bedroom years ago, the night they'd fought the vampire warriors known as The Three.  They barely knew each other, yet their mutual attraction was already in full bloom.  "Do you snore?" she'd asked him in all innocence, not yet knowing that he was a vampire.  Now she chuckled to herself.

Difficult to snore when you don't breathe.

"Care to share the joke?"  Angel's eyes opened, gazing at her.  A humorous smile tugged at his mouth.

"I was remembering when I asked you if you snored."

Angel nodded.  "The night we fought The Three."  He shifted a little, turning on his side to face her more fully. Reaching out, he stroked her hair.   "You were a ‘perfect gentleman,' " Buffy smiled.  "That's what I told Willow the next morning."

"I was, wasn't I?" Angel said gravely.  Then he smiled.  "It wasn't easy.  Did I ever tell you that I spent that entire night just watching you sleep?"

Buffy blinked in surprise.  "Did you really?"

He nodded.  "I couldn't help myself."  Before she could think of a reply he leaned forward and kissed her.  "You were so beautiful," he whispered, "lying there with your mouth open - drooling onto your pillow."

She gaped in shock, then saw his teeth flash in a grin and punched him in the arm - lightly.  "I was not, you liar."

Angel laughed out loud.  "No, you weren't," he capitulated.  Then his voice grew serious.  "The moonlight was shining through the window right onto your bed.  I could see you as clearly as if it were daytime, and more than anything in the world I wanted to kiss you."

Buffy brushed his face with her fingertips, then kissed him.  "Angel, there's something I've always wondered about.  When we did finally kiss, that next evening, why did you vamp out?"

He was silent a moment.  Outside the window, the sky had lightened enough that she could see his expression, a mixture of pain, regret, and apology.  "When we kissed ... it took me by surprise.  The emotion, I mean.  It had been so long since I'd felt anything even close to that."

Rolling over onto his back, he went on, staring moodily into space.  "Buffy ... that part of me lies close to the surface.  Closer than I like, especially when I'm feeling strong emotions."

Buffy sat up and faced him, knowing how difficult it was for him to talk about this subject..  "How close?" she asked softly.

Angel looked at her in silence, then without warning morphed into his vamp face, so suddenly that she started in spite of herself.

"I'm sorry."  He looked away, moving as if to get up.  Buffy stopped him.  "Don't be," she said.  "I just wasn't expecting it, that's all."  She stroked his face, delicately touching the thickened eyebrows, running a finger across the rough skin of his nose and cheeks.

"It's funny," she murmured.  Angel's yellow vampire eyes came back to her.  "Funny?" he echoed, incredulously.

"Strange," she amended, continuing her exploration of his features.  "I see all this with my eyes; my fingers can feel it.  But when I look at you, it doesn't even register."

Bending down, she kissed him on his vampire mouth, then whispered, "When I look into your eyes, all I see is you - the man I love."   Slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, Angel sat up, sliding up in the bed until his back hit the pillows behind him.  "Don't let your love blind you, Buffy," he said quietly. He gestured at his face.  "This is who I am."

Buffy moved closer to him.  "It's a part of you; I know that.  But it's not all of you, Angel, any more than being the Slayer is all of who I am."  She looked momentarily pensive.  "Though sometimes I was tempted to let it be."

A sudden brightness in the room caused her to glance at the window.  "The sun's coming up."  She started to rise, but Angel stopped her.

"It won't be up for a few minutes yet," he said.  His face transmuted back to his normal features, and he leaned toward her.  They kissed, a gentle kiss that threatened to become more - until a ray of sunlight shot onto the wall beside the bed.  They broke apart; Angel got up and walked over to the window.  He drew the heavy black curtains shut, and the room plunged once more into darkness.  When he turned Buffy had also gotten out of the bed and was standing next to him, a little self-conscious about their nudity, he could tell.

"I don't know about you," she said, "but I could really use a shower.  I hope there's hot water."  She ended on a questioning note.  "And soap?"

"There should be both," Angel told her.  "What I'm not sure about is towels."

Buffy shrugged.  "Towels are no biggie; we can find something to dry off with, even if it's just our clothes."

Angel regarded her, wondering if he'd heard correctly.  " ‘We'?"

 Buffy glanced at him a little shyly.  "I thought maybe you'd join me?"

He smiled and bent down to kiss her.  "I would love to take a shower with you."

The water was blessedly hot, and Buffy sighed in bliss as the spray beat down on her.  She reached for the soap, but Angel got it first.

"Allow me."  Moving to block the spray of water, he ran the bar over her shoulders and arms, then down her chest to her navel before replacing it in the soap dish, from which she promptly retrieved it.  His hands moved over her body, working the soap film into a soft lather.  Buffy closed her eyes as he gently kneaded her shoulders and neck, then roused herself to soap his chest and arms.

His hands slickly caressed her breasts, making her sigh with pleasure.  She copied his gestures, sliding her palms over the hard planes of his chest and stomach, frowning at how visible his ribs were.  Then Angel kissed her, and all thought fled, replaced by purely sensual enjoyment.  The soap passed back and forth between them; sudsy hands washed and fondled.  Buffy stroked Angel, loving the feel of him growing between her palms, the soft, spongy flesh becoming firm and erect.

After the falling water rinsed them squeaky-clean, Angel dropped to his knees in front of her.  Buffy gasped as his mouth explored her secret folds with a thoroughness that made her tremble.  Her legs grew weak, and she had to lean against the tiled wall for support.

The water beat down, streaming over her torso; steam fogged the glass door.  Angel's cool tongue passed over the hard knot of her passion, and some place deep inside her body throbbed violently.  She moaned/gasped in response, and he did it again.  And again and again, until the throbbing erupted into a tidal wave of sensation.

Angel sat back on his heels, and Buffy sank down onto his lap.  He entered her easily despite the water flowing over their bodies, aided by the slick moisture of her desire.  Buffy clung to him, digging her fingers into the muscles of his back.  His lips traveled across her shoulders, her neck and throat, and up to her mouth.

He rocked against her as they kissed, then they fell instinctively into the ageless rhythm of lovemaking.  Their cries bounced off the shower walls.  Angel gasped and strained upward even as his hands on Buffy's hips held her down.  Buffy cried out, Angel shuddered and groaned, and then there was only the sound of the water and their breathing. Finally Angel sighed.  "I think we're about to run out of hot water."  Reluctantly they got up and washed again, but even though they hurried the water was cold when Buffy turned it off.  They shared the one towel Angel had hunted up, patting each other dry in the hard to reach spots like the middle of the back as well as areas that weren't particularly difficult to reach.  Buffy put her arms around his waist and looked up at him.

"You need to sleep."  It was not a question.

Angel nodded, and touched her cheek.  "So do you, I think.  Can you stay with me?"

She grinned impishly.  "Think we'll get any sleep if I do?"

He chuckled.  "Buffy, I may be a two-hundred-year-old vampire, but I'm not Superman.  We'll sleep."  Then he grew serious again.  "Stay with me?" he asked softly.

Buffy nodded.  "I will - for this morning at least.  I'm supposed to meet Giles this afternoon, and I better go reassure my mom that I haven't disappeared into the Hellmouth or something."  She yawned suddenly.  "Excuse me."

They put clean sheets on the bed.  "It's a good thing I left all this stuff here," Angel commented as they climbed into the bed.

"Mmm," Buffy agreed.  She turned on her side and he slid over until they were spooned together.  He kissed her behind her ear and held her close.  They drifted off to sleep.

The End