"Buffy?" Angel came out of his bedroom disoriented and looked at his girlfriend.

"Hi," she smiled. Buffy was standing at his small stove, one of his shirts tied around her dress as an apron. "We had a half-day at school so I came over to make lunch."

He sat down and tried to wake up. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did. You help me out all the time. The least I could do was make you lunch."

Angel watched as Buffy set a plate of Ritz crackers and a bowl of oysters on the table. She followed that with hot tea for him and Mountain Dew for her, plus a pulled-apart orange, which she stuck a slice of into her mouth as she danced around, humming something now and then that Angel was sure one of Buffy's boy bands sang on MTV every afternoon. Buffy took the shirt off, folded it over a chair and then came over with a steaming pot - the main course.

Angel looked into the pot and frowned. "Chicken and stars?"

"It's my favorite," Buffy explained. She ladled some into his bowl and then her own. "Dig in."

"You know, Buffy," Angel said skeptically, "I don't really eat."

"You eat when you want to. Just try it."

"Buffy--"

"I tried blood for you," she reminded him.

"You didn't *try* blood, Buffy, you sucked on your finger when you cut it making grilled cheese."

"So?" she put some oysters into her soup. "I want you to like my cooking, is that so bad?"

He wanted to tell her that popping open a can doesn't constitute as cooking, but he kept his mouth shut. "I'm sorry."

Buffy waited while Angel put crackers into his soup and then ate a spoonful.

The he smiled. "It's good."

Buffy beamed. "See? I told you."

He ate some more and asked, "Did you grow up on this stuff?"

Buffy nodded. "Everyday after school until the eighth grade. Then it became uncool to eat anything."

Angel laughed. "You were so cute in LA."

"I was so dense!" Buffy shouted. "I never did anything."

"Tell me everything about that part of your life." Angel said eagerly.

Buffy sighed. "I'd like to be able to say that I was a great student, but we both know I'm a terrible liar. I was popular, a cheerleader and captain of the dance team. I dated the football players and basketball stars."

"So you had everything?" Angel asked.

"Ha! My parents despised each other so I was sort of trying to stay out of the house alot. It was a constant battle between my mom and dad and they always put me in the middle. I hated it."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too." she shrugged. "Can't change it now. Enough of my depressing life though. Tell me something about your life."

"My mother was a terrible cook," he said honestly and Buffy giggled. He spooned some more soup into his bowl and said, "She tried, but even her baked bread was awful. She used to burn our oatmeal."

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "I hate oatmeal. Oh, and before I forget, I turned the ringer on your phone down when I got here."

"Why?"

"Wussley. He's been trying to get a hold of me for days and I keep ditching. He wants to try some sort of new training or something."

"Maybe we should call him."

"Oh sure. This is my day *off*, Angel. No, my weekend off. No school, no Giles, no vampires - present company excluded - no work, no nothing. Just you and me and the mansion."

"What about your mother?"

"Denial. She went to Chicago to visit my aunt and avoid talking to me about the Giles sexage."

"Ouch."

"You can say that again." she walked over and sat in his lap. "I just need a few days alone, in bed, with the man I love."

He smiled and stood up, heading for the bedroom. "That can be arranged, you know."

A few hours later, Giles came to the door with Wesley. They knocked and knocked and knocked, but the happy lusters in bed never heard them.

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