"Wills?"

"Wills?"

"Earth to Willllow, come in, Willow," Xander grinned, waving his hand in
front of her face. She gasped and straightened. He handed her her soda. She
suddenly heard the pulsating music of the Bronze as if her ears had just
started working.

"Thanks," she grinned sheepishly.

"Anyway, as I was saying, Angel seems a little distracted tonight, doesn't
he?" Xander said, nodding toward the dancefloor. She watched as Angel and
Buffy dance, Angel stepped on Buffy's toes three times in as many steps.
Buffy scowled at him, but he didn't even notice, he was just staring into
space.

Willow giggled. "Wonder what could be bothering him."

"What I want to know is what kind of naughty thoughts had you so engrossed
that you didn't hear me talking for five minutes?" Xander asked, wriggling
his eyebrows.

"Oh, me? Nothing." Willow blushed. She had been thinking about the dream she
had been having lately. Last night's involved her going to "Galen's"
chambers to read his fortune again, only this time, he was bathing.

She sat perched on the edge of his tub, wrapped in an elaborate jade-colored
sarong that was embellished with silver beads and embroidery as he splashed
about in the sandalwood-scented water. She grinned even now, remembering
some of the conversation they had had.

"I think a man's feet have to be one of the most unattractive parts of their
bodies," Angel had said, lifting his wrinkled toes out of the water.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, sire," Willow blushed, trying to look at his
midsection. "There are more... awkward parts of the male form."

Angel fairly roared with laughter.

"That's now fair, Serena," he chuckled. "There are so many lovely parts to
the female body, you have men an unfair disadvantage."

"Would you mind giving me an example?" Willow laughed.

"Women have legs."

"Men have legs," Willow's eyebrow arched.

"Yes, but they're big and muscular and chunky," he said, tracing the slope
of her calf with a wet finger. "You have long, beautiful shapely legs.
Smooth to the touch."

Willow drew a ragged breath. "And what else?"

"Women have stomachs."

"Men have stomachs."

"Yes, but women have flat beautiful stomachs with little dimpled navels,"
his hand caressed her tummy through the thin material of her wrap. "You
can't help but want to reach out and touch them."

"And have I mentioned breasts?" Angel grinned wickedly, tracing the material
tucked under her arms. Water dripped from his fingers between her breasts.
She gasped. He chuckled. "They're nice, too."

She growled and reached down, splashing the bathwater in his face. He
sputtered indignantly. A thrill of fear rippled through her. Could you
behead a concubine for splashing the king in the face?

"Serena, you have assuaged my honor," he growled. She cringed. "Now I must
retaliate."

Before she could register what was happening to her, his hands clamped on
her arms and she dragged into the tub. He laughed as he dunked her under the
water, letting her up for air immediately. She howled, her sarong floated in
a green liquid cloud around her.  She glared at him, her air clinging to her
cheeks in scarlet streaks.

He chuckled, brushing her hair back from her eyes. She rested uneasily on
his chest.

"Women have lips." he said, staring at her mouth. His warm fingers caressed
the lines of her cheeks.

"Men have lips." she said.

"That were meant to be tucked against yours," he purred, he bent his face to
hers, brushing a gentle kiss across her mouth. The steaming water lapped
against their bodies as she parted her lips to allow him in. She moaned into
his mouth as he explored the warm depths of hers.

"Serena?" he said. She open her eyes slowly. They focused sluggishly on his
handsome face. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight?" she repeated blankly.

"Tonight, you sleep alone."  he said.

Her jaw dropped. He nodded. Her eyes narrowed.

She stood, her dress clinging to her like verdant second skin. She hiked up
her skirts and pulled herself out of the tub, glaring at him the whole time.

"Goodnight," she grumbled, stepping away from him. He caught the hem of her
dress, tugging at it. The loose ties flew apart and she was standing naked
in the middle of his chamber. She yelped. A handmaiden rushed over to cover
her with a thick towel.

"Goodnight," he grinned.

Xander's brow creased as Willow suddenly burst out laughing.

"Will, clue in your frightened friend," Xander said. She grinned at him.
Angel and Buffy joined them at their table.

"Owwwww." Buffy moaned, rubbbing her feet.

"Maybe you should reconsider those clogs, Buffy, they seem to hurt your
feet," Angel said. She glared at him.

"I'm going to get a Band-Aid," she muttered, heading off to the ladies room.

Angel barely noticed, he was busy watching as Willow sipped her cola. She
seemed nervous. He took a moment to watch the way her jade green sweater
draped across her breasts. In his dreams, "Serena" always wore green. He
swallowed hard.

Why did the real-life Willow have to wear green? He shifted uncomfortably as
his slacks became considerably tighter.

"Xander, could you tell Buffy I went home?" Angel asked.

Xander's eyebrow arched. "Sure."

Willow watched as Angel disappeared into the crowd. Her breathing turned
ragged. A few minutes later, she set her drink on the table.

"I'm not feeling so good," she said.

"You alright, Willow?" Xander asked.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'm just going to go home and lie down. Tell Buffy I'll
see her in school tomorrow."

"Okay," he nodded.

Once she was out of Xander's line of sight, Willow raced for the door.

Angel was already half-way home. He had never run so hard in all his life.
He had but one thought - get to bed.

Willow turned the corner and took off running for her house.

Angel wrenched the lock to his apartment door open and slammed it behind
him. He began stripping out of his clothes. He pulled his sweater over his
head, smashing into his end table and tripping onto his couch.

Willow rounded the last corner and sprinted as fast as she could the last
block to her house. She locked the door behind her and launched herself up
the stairs, tearing her clothes off as she went.

She pulled a nightgown over her head and slid under her sheets.

"Must get sleep, must get to sleep, must get to sleep," she muttered,
squeezing her eyes shut.

Angel pulled the covers over his head. "Must get to sleep, must get to
sleep, must get to sleep."
 
 

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