"Auuugh," Cordy groaned as she stood in front of the oscillating fan. "I thought we moved AWAY from the Hellmouth, how could it be so damned hot?"

"Hottest summer in history, nation-wide heatwave, any of this sound familiar??" Willow grinned despite her drenched blue tank-top. It had been a month since she arrived in LA to do her "internship" at Angel Investigations. As an information systems major (one of her three majors) she was spending her summer exploring how to use her hacking skills to gather information for Angel's company. Basically, it was a prescribed vacation from Giles and Buffy. She was so busy with fighting evil in Sunnydale that she had barely escaped with a very un-Willow-like B average her first year of college. Not to mention her complete lack of recovery from Oz's abandonment.

"Oh, yeah," Cordy grinned. Willow was staying at Cordy's place. It didn't make any sense for her to get her own apartment for just three months. She and the redhead were getting so close now that Willow was around all the time and Cordy wasn't well, a heinous bitch

"Don't you have some air-conditioning spell that we could use in a case like this or maybe call some iceberg from the North Atlantic to crash into the city?"

"Didn’t you SEE Titanic?" Willow asked.

"Hi, girls," Angel came breezing into the office. Literally, breezing. He looked like he just stepped off runway for a brooding guy fashion collection. His clothes weren't even rumpled.

"Why Angel, you look down-right comfy," Willow said, flatly. She couldn't help but wonder what he would look like a little sweaty. With a light sheen of perspiration slicking those angelic features, the tangy salt taste-

(BAD THOUGHTS, Willow Rosenberg, BAD THOUGHTS)

"We hate you," Cordy's eyes narrowed. "This whole vampire internal air-conditioning is really starting to piss me off."

"Get over the air-conditioning thing, Cordy." Willow said.

"I can't help it that I don't have a body temperature," Angel shrugged.

"Grrrr," Cordy growled.

"How's the case coming?" Angel asked.

"Piece of cake," Willow handed him her completed report. It was simple lost loved-one case. It was woman looking for an old college boyfriend. It had taken Willow a total of two hours to track him down using date of birth and name.

"Net girl to the rescue," Cordy rolled her eyes. "I swear, I'm going to be glad when you're out of here, so Angel can used to my raging mediocrity again. You're spoiling him."

(Not in the way I'd like to.) Willow slapped her hand over her mouth. She couldn't believe she had even had the thought. "Well, seems like a pretty full day of work," Angel said. "Considering the conditions, why don't you girls take off early?"

"You trying to get rid of us?" Willow asked.

"'Course not," Angel grinned wrly. (I'd never send you away, Red.) "But I figure you probably had more fun ways in mind of how to spend a Friday night. Speaking of which, where's Doyle?"

"Had more fun ways in mind of how to spend a Friday afternoon," Willow laughed. "Never came back from lunch."

"He's down at the Pub quoting Angela's Ashes again, isn't he?' Angel winced.

"You got it, my darling Pebbles," Cordy laughed. "And we are out of here."

"What's on your agenda for the evening?"

"Agendas generally suck the fun out of a weekend, hence, no agenda," Cordy said. "But we thought we might rent a few estrogen flicks, give ourselves
some cooling mint facials and shamelessly molest our good friends Ben and Jerry."

Angel's eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling.

"Ben and Jerry, Angel," Willow laughed. "The ice cream? You've got to be kidding. Their Phish Food is like the eighth deadly sin. You've never had it?"

"I've never had ice cream," he shrugged. "I don't eat."

"That has to be the saddest thing I've ever heard," Willow said.

"Well, I've got a drunken Irishman to peel out of a bar, you go on," he said, shooing them away. "Have a good time with Ben and Jerry."

Cordy and Willow laughed, grabbing their shoulder bags. Willow cast one last glance over her shoulder. Angel waved her away with a grin.

(Angel…. Ice cream…. BAD THOUGHTS, Willow, BAD THOUGHTS.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"ANGEL!"

THUMP THUMP THUMP

Angel skidded across the hardwood floor on his wet feet and nearly feel flat on his ass. He tucked his towel tighter around his waist. Willow was pounding on his door, it must be important. He slipped again as he turned the knob, nearly losing his towel in the process.

Willow's eyes went wide when she saw the dropping towel. Her hair was crimson with wet, plastered to her cheeks in fans.

"HOLY LORD!" she cried, turning away. "I'm sorry, Angel, but-"

"Willow, you're soaking wet, get in here," he pulled her just inside the doorframe. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, really," she said. "Small problem at Cordy's though, um. The AC went out again and rather than calling the super for the fourth time in a week, Cordy tried the old "kick it real hard" method of air-conditioning repair. All of the sudden this thick black smoke started pouring out of it, setting off the fire alarm and the sprinklers, long story short, Cordy now has an indoor pool."

"Is she okay?" Angel asked. "Where is she?"

"Well, the apartment will take a few days to dry out, then the super wants to give us both a stern talking to. So we're laying low for a while. We were
hoping to stay with you and Doyle for a few days. She's over at Doyle's trying to sweet-talk her way onto his couch. "

"Well, that'll be a hard sell," Angel snorted.

"Um Angel, we're still in the doorway, and uh, you're still naked."

"Right," he looked down and grinned. "I'll be right back. Come on in, make yourself comfortable. You can stay as long as you like."

"Thanks," she said, setting bag down. "Do you have a dryer? All of my clothes got wet."

"It's in the back, and there are some clean sweats in the basket there, if you want to change into something dry."

(Sweats? Is he kidding? It's in the high 90's out there.)

She put her clothes in the dryer, pulled out one of Angel's white tank tops and the only pair of dry khaki shorts she had. She carried those and a clean
towel into the bathroom where she showered the foul smell of sprinkler water that had been stored too long. When she came back into the living room,
Angel was laying out blankets on the couch

"Angel, you don't have to make my bed for me, I may not be a cracker jack repair person, but I can handle setting up a couch."

"This is my bed, I'm taking the couch, you're in the bedroom," he said.

"I can't take your bed," she said. "That would be too much trouble, besides, you're too tall for the couch. You'll have to fold yourself into thirds."

"I'll be fine, Will, now go get some sleep, you've had a long, accident prone night."

"Fine, but I want my formal protest on record when you wake up all grumpy from couch-back," she said, shutting off the light. "Goodnight Angel, and thanks."

"It's nothing, Will, goodnight."

She eased out of her shorts and slid under Angel's heavenly cool satin sheets. She wondered if vampires were handed a set of satin sheets as soon as they were turned. Like a crypt-warming gift or something. She punched his pillows into shape and breathed deep the spicy clean scent that was Angel. If she could wrap up a memory and keep it safe, this would be it, she decided. Being in Angel's bed, finally cool after endless days of hellish heat, wrapped up in the smell of him. The only thing missing was… Angel.

She had come to terms with her Plymouth Rock-sized crush on him in high school. But he had always been Buffy's. She had been the goofy friend who
always seemed to need rescuing. But in his last days in Sunnydale, there had been a special bond between Angel and Willow. She had earned his unending gratitude when he found out she was the one who permanently anchored his soul. He had been more than willing to harbor her during her little mental
vacation. In fact, the internship had been his idea.

She sighed as she tried to will herself to sleep. No such luck. Maybe a drink of water would help. She looked at the clock. She had only been in bed
twenty minutes.

She quietly padded into the kitchen. She heard Angel tossing and turning on the short couch, trying to get comfortable. She rolled her eyes. Apparently,
trying to make up for the mistakes of his past included suffering a crick in the neck.

She opened the freezer door. Next to the ice trays laid a pint of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food. She grinned. He must have gone to the store after she and Cordy left the office.

She grabbed some ice and shut the door. She carried her drink into the living room. Angel was trying to pull the blankets over his long lean frame. He'd pull them up to his chin, his feet were uncovered. He covered his feet, his chest was uncovered. He huffed and tossed again. Willow yanked his blankets away.

"Get up, " she laughed. "There's no reason we can't share the bed. Be reasonable for god's sake. I promise not to compromise your reputation. "

He chuckled. "Okay, fine, but I'm sleeping on top of the covers."

"Martyr," she punched him the shoulder.

"Will, why aren't you wearing any pants?"

"DOH!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel felt a warm satiny form press against his. He instinctively leaned into the caress, brushing his fingers along the curve of her spine. His eyes slowly focused in the soft dark. Willow, in his bed. In his arms. From her slow sweet heartbeat, he could she was in a deep sleep. And apparently having a hell of a dream. She was wrapping her silky limbs around his, rubbing her body against him. She moaned softly.

(Must be dreaming of Oz, damn lucky, stupid wolf.)

"Angel," she whispered huskily.

His eyes widened in shock. Willow, dreaming of him?

She rolled on top of him, kissing the length of his neck. Claiming his mouth with a hunger he didn't know Willow possessed. She rained kisses down his
body, ringing his bellybutton with her tongue. He bucked up from the sheets. He should stop her, he knew he should. But he couldn't force himself to push
her away. He had wanted the little red witch for so long. He would take her anyway he could get her, conscious or not.

She edged his pajama bottoms down, freeing his erection. She ran her fingers along the length of him. He bit his fist to keep from crying out. She licked
at his head. He sighed, guiding himself nearly to her throat. She took the length of him, moving her tongue in ways he hadn't imagined in two hundred
years.

In a few quick moments, he was on the edge of orgasm. It was almost embarrassing for him, but it had been so long and he wanted her so much. He was glad she was in this strange sleep-trance. He gathered her in his arms and brought the sheets up to her chin. He licked the lines of her mouth gently, enjoying the taste of himself on her lips.

He tucked her against his chest, hoping he could force himself away before morning.

"I love you, little witch," he whispered against her neck as he drifted to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Someone was in bed with her.

It was a strange realization for our girl Willow Rosenberg, who had had a total of one bedmate of the opposite sex. Not counting Xander. She felt behind her head. Spikey but silky hair, sloping brow. Noble staight nose. Angel.

Suddenly memories of the night before came flooding back to her. Cordy's flood to be precise. She grinned. She and Angel must have gotten tangled up
in their sleep. Not surprising considering the dream she had about him. His hand flexed around her hip. She looked back, he was still deep in sleep. He
squeezed her hip again, affectionately.

She giggled, and stopped abruptly as his cool fingers slid under the waistband of her panties. Her neck tensed stiffly.

"Angel?"

No response.

She felt a traitorous rush of warmth between her thighs. Angel slipped his finger inside her, testing her. He moved slowly inside her, curving toward her clit. His thumb brushed the pearly nub. She gasped, bucking against him. His fangs grazed her neck. She moaned, he slipped another finger inside her. He quickened his pace.

(Oh, please god, don't let him be dreaming of Buffy.)

"Willow…" he whispered.

She felt a rush of pleasure at her name. She let herself go, allowed him to please her. She rocked her hips to met his palm. His lips traced patterns at the juncture between her neck and shoulder, his fangs gently broke the skin. As her blood flowed over his lips, she felt herself tighten around his fingers. She groaned.

"Angel!" she panted as she came. Then she bit her lip. The last thing she needed was for him to wake up and get all conscientious on her . He wrapped
his arms around her and pulled her against him, tucking her head against his chest.

"I love you, Angel."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel moaned and rolled over. Willow was in the shower again. She was probably wondering what the hell that weird taste in her mouth was. He grimaced. He couldn't believe he let himself take advantage of her like that. Add another year to his penance sentence.

And it hadn't exactly done wonders for his sleep, either, All night he had been haunted by dreams of loving her. Feeding from her.

He grunted and tucked the pillow over his head.

"You really aren’t a morning person, are you?"

He raised his head. Willow was standing at the foot of the bed, in nothing but a towel. Holding his pint of Ben and Jerry's

"Willow, what are you doing?" he asked, propping himself on his elbows. She dropped the towel. His jaw hit his chest. She brushed the hair back from her
neck and grinned.

The bite mark. It wasn't a dream.

"I think it's time we introduce you to the joys of ice cream," she said huskily.

THE END
 

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