DISCLAIMER: Ech! Not mine. If they were mine, I'd have them waiting to show tonight's episode until I was finished with this fic.
TIMELINE: Late season three, pre-"Prom" and anything important to the creation of AtS.
SPOILERS: Not one I can think of.
SYNOPSIS: Deep breathing exercises do pay off.
DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere if you ask first.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm missing tonight's episode because writer's block has finally released its vice-like grip on me and I don't want to waste what could be a brief period of creativity. Just so you know, :o) Also, there are a few details in this story that are not necessarily. oh, forget the explanation. Things happen because I need excuses to write later parts of the story. Don't get bogged down with facts, lol. Just go with the flow. (its not heavily proof read, probably full of errors)
FEEDBACK: Sure, if you like.
RATING: Eh, lets go PG:15 for some sexual frustration.
Oh, and I'd like to thank Bianca Spiers for the feedback to my fic "Simple." THANK YOU!:o) I'd meant to write back, and then there was a thing with my comp, and another thing, and then it seemed silly to write two weeks later, lol. So, thanks!

"Hey," Angel said quietly, looking up from his book. Warm spring air carried the hint of jasmine from the extensive gardens that banked the cemetery. It ruffled her golden blond hair as she sat down next to him, smiling. The bench was roomy, but she scootched close against him.

"Quiet evening?" the Slayer asked, her eyes tracing the stars just beginning to show. He closed the book and slipped it into his pocket.

"So far. Trouble?" Angel wondered aloud, gesturing to the cut across the knuckles of her hand. She flexed her fingers and lay the hand on his arm.

"Nothing I couldn't handle. Do you have any plans?" Buffy asked coyly. He shrugged and put an arm around her shoulders. She relaxed into him and the corners of her mouth twitched.

"I thought we could spend some time together."

"Funny," Buffy flirted, "I was thinking the same thing."

"Bronze?" Angel suggested, but Buffy wrinkled her nose.

"Too public." She sat forward and turned to look at him. "Feel like going a few rounds?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows. Angel laughed and agreed nonchalantly, disguising his eagerness.

"I could be up for that." Buffy grinned toothily and jumped to her feet, pulling him with her. She started to lead him by the hand, but he refused to budge.

"What?" she asked, pausing.

"This," he smiled, tugging her up against him.

"Oh, sure," Buffy laughed, and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as they kissed.

~~~~~

"That." Buffy panted, "was. fun." Angel, equally winded (though not literally, of course), collapsed next to her on the cool floor of the mansion. The couch was pushed against the far wall, and all the other furnishings had been moved aside.

"Yeah," he agreed, sagging deeply with exhaustion. Buffy dragged her tired body closer to lay her head on his chest. "Much better than the bronze."

"Much," Buffy said, wheezing a little. He chuckled throatily and dropped a kiss on her damp forehead. She loved to spar with him. It was thrilling and violent and emotional. Its startling similarity to their relationship probably had something to do with it.

"I think we qualify as an abusive couple," she observed jokingly.

"Emotionally or physically?"

"Both," she laughed, feeling a little lightheaded. "This is just so. I think the word I'm looking for here is therapeutic. Is that a bad thing?" Angel shook his head and she felt him smiling against her hair.

"In every relationship, its important to be. physical," he said slowly, and Buffy felt the tension ripple in his words. "Contact, touch." his hand drew slow patterns on her bare arm. "It's necessary, vital even. Humans are social creatures, this," he brushed his cheek against the crown of her head, "is important."

Buffy could feel the cool-heat of his skin through her tank top. They were both slippery with a thin layer of clean sweat, and Buffy reveled in the waning of their energy. His bare chest was still except for speaking, but he felt more alive to her than anyone could know.

"For us," he continued, "this is our limit."

"For now," Buffy insisted, fanning the embers of hope.

"For now," he conceded, "this is all we get. The violence and the heat. and on the same token, some release," he mumbled into her hair.

"If we didn't have this I'd go crazy around you," Buffy confided. "Even if we can't. we can still be connected."

"Its easy to lose myself when we fight," Angel said. "Once we hit the rhythm and I stop having to think about moving-

"Like you have to in the first place," she snorted delicately.

"And you, Ms. Slayer, really need to concentrate," he drawled sarcastically. "After that, its just you," he said after a beat. Buffy's heart thudded in her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but found herself out of air. She attempted to draw another breath, but couldn't.

"What's wrong?" Angel asked, worriedly. Buffy rolled off his chest gracelessly and onto the floor. Angel's face appeared above her, greatly concerned, as she stared wildly about trying to breathe. His eyes searched hers for answers, and he quickly realized what was happening.

"Just relax, Buffy," he instructed firmly, placing a hand behind her neck. He gently lifted her chin. "Its okay," he promised, "just calm down." She shook her head and Buffy's hands came up around her throat. The vampire gently pushed them back down to her stomach. He stroked her cheek and tried to help her.

"Buffy, just look at me. Look at me," he pointed to his eyes. "Look right here," he said, and Buffy did as she was told. She stared right into his eyes and found herself falling into them. In the back of her mind, she heard a voice whisper `panic attack,' but it didn't matter. Only Angel's eyes mattered, and the tightness in her chest eased. The red closing in on her sight faded back to the normal dim hues of the mansion.

She could breathe again.

"That," she rasped, "was weird." Angel helped her to sit up, then shakily nodded.

"Yeah."

"Sorry," she half apologized.

"Don't," he half smiled. His brow furrowed for a moment, then smoothed out. "Try something for me?"

"Yeah," Buffy agreed, swallowing. He took her hands in his and pulled her close.

"Lie down," he told her, and they stretched out, facing one another. Their clasped hands were between them, their faces near. Angel took her right hand and placed it over his heart. "Pay attention to your breathing, in. out. in. out." She nodded slightly, and inhaled. Then exhaled. Over again. Buffy stared into his eyes and breathed.

"Keep breathing, evenly, deeply." She increased the amount of air and her breaths slowed. He nodded and stared steadily into her eyes. Angel held her hand against his chest more securely. "Focus." Without breaking eye contact, she nodded again.

Angel began to breath with her. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. She felt his chest rise under her fingers, and their breathing was completely in tune. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Buffy had the strangest sensation of falling, really falling this time, into Angel's eyes. Warmth spread from her touch into his skin and throughout his body. She could feel it moving, almost see it glowing in his gaze.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

The sensation of being near him, the otherworldly sensation of rest and completion and lust, intensified. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Without breaking form, she placed his free hand over her own heart.

Suddenly, she could hear her pulse thumping steadily, languidly in her ears. Angel's eyes were bright and half closed, filled with emotion. She felt her face warm with thoughts of him, even as everything `surface' melted out of mind. Through the hand over his chest, which continued to rise and fall in time with hers, she felt her own heartbeat mirrored.

They were closer, somehow, than they had been in a very long while. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Tai Chi had been nothing like this, Buffy just barely thought. There was no tension between them, even as whatever was inside of her built and expanded. It was primal, sexual, holy even- but it was calm. It grew.

Nothing existed but Angel and air, and he was what she breathed. They were one force, breathing and beating as one. Buffy felt heat in her skin. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Her feelings swelled inside of her, and then-

Everything exploded.

The connection flowed between them like floodwaters, furious and quick and unstoppable. Buffy could no longer see his eyes or even feel his touch. It was better than even that.

The vampire and the slayer were melded into one tangle of thoughtless emotions as they breathed and were still and existed in complete unison. Everything between them was open and unrelentingly close, beautiful.

It was as close to perfect as safety would allow.

And then, after a single, terrifyingly amazing moment of unity, Buffy shut off.

~~~~~

She woke up later, maybe minutes, maybe hours, in Angel's arms. The slayer felt the familiar sharpness of her adoration for him and it stung her. She closed her eyes against it. Buffy attempted to call back the sensations she had experienced earlier, but they were as insubstantial as the memory of a dream. She studied Angel a moment.

He was deeply asleep, face smooth and calm, and Buffy's smiled.

Angel was still breathing.

She closed her eyes-

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale

-and went back to sleep.

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