Disclaimer: Y'Know, this gets a little repetitive after a while. Joss did it. I wasn't there, I swear.
Distribution: If you want it, take it, but let me know.
Author's Notes: I'm not sure where this is going yet... this is something I do every once in a while as a de-writers-blocker. Just start writing with nothing in mind. *Shrugs*. It works for me.
Author's Notes 2: OK, now I know where it's going. This happens during Bad Girls where Buffy and Faith are dancing. Buffy's POV.
Feedback: What's that thing; If a tree falls when nobodies around, what sound does it make? Anyway, I need to know someone's actually read this.

I was charged.

I could feel every nerve in my body singing. I hadn't felt this alive in a long time. I hadn't felt this free;

I could remember the feeling, of course; Could remember raging with my buds at clubs in LA, remember major caffeine highs when I was eight.

But this...this was a different sort of freedom. This was the first time I'd ever really accepted the rush of slaying, and embraced it. First time I'd carried it with me for hours afterwards.

A guy slipped his hands onto my hips, and I realized, with a buzz of excitement, that I didn't care. It didn't mean anything , really. It was just some random guy dancing with me. I flicked my eyes over my shoulder, getting a glimpse of the guy. He was no Angel, but he wasn't bad looking, I suppose.

I turned my attention back to Faith for a moment, seeing her run her hands down a guys chest before letting my mind go again. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the sensations raging through my body. I felt the guys hands on my hips.I felt Faith's breath on my shoulder.

I felt Angel.

My eyes snapped open and I grinned, bouncing out of the crowd and into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and I saw his eyes widen in surprise. We hadn't been that touchy feely lately.

I grinned at him. "You weren't gonna leave, where you?"

"Saw you making friends." He said, nodding towards guy who'd been touching my hips.

"Them?" I glanced over my shoulder and shrugged, then looked back at him. "Boys. I like you."

He was extremely still, and obviously uncomfortable. I sighed inwardly, removing myself from his hips, bringing my chest level with his eyes in the process. I was torturing him, and I knew it.

"What's the matter? Afraid of little ol' me?"

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