"Hey," I said, I was feeling all warm, my jacket seemed like overkill suddenly, "Do what you were doing, before?" It just shocks me sometimes, the things I say and do around him. I don't know where it comes from.

"What?" his eyes sparkled. He was playing with me.

"You know what,"

"This?" he took my hand and put my fingers to his lips again, but this time he moved his head back and forth, stroking them against his mouth.

The breath went out of me, "Yeah,"

He bowed his head and moved my hand so that my fingers went through his hair, along the back of his neck, around his throat. He kept his eyes closed, it was like watching him dreaming about me. He made a sound like a hum, or maybe like a purr, a deep sound, and I could feel the vibration of it going through him. He guided my hand down his throat into the open collar of his shirt and pressed my hand there. His head fell back a little and his face took on a look like longing, or like pleasure, but his eyes were still closed. He took my other hand and pressed it onto his shirt right over his heart. It doesn't beat, but it works, I thought. He moved my hand further inside his shirt, and I gasped, he's so smooth, he's satiny. How can he have such soft skin? He moved my other hand from his heart, down his chest and around his waist, so my arm was around him. He stroked my fingertips across his chest, up and down. He stroked my fingers over his left nipple and shuddered. He moved my hand up to his throat again, and down.

I pulled him close to me, "Do that again," I whispered. I swear I had butterflies, he was so exciting.

He opened his eyes and looked at me. "What?"

I slowly moved the tip of one finger over his nipple again. "Aaah," he said, sharply, and then he pulled my hand away and released it. "I-I went to far, I'm sorry,"

"No, do it again, please?"

"I never want to make you do anything," he said, "You're sixteen,"

"Pretend for a minute that I'm the Slayer,"

"That's got nothing to do with it,"

"It's got everything to do with it. Make me do something. Try,"

"That's not-I don't like you just because-"

"Do you remember Halloween?"

"I'm sorry about that, too-"

"Why?"

"Because it was too fast. You're sisteen, and-"

"We've covered this. We've covered a lot more than this. Why are you pulling away from me?"

"We have covered this. It's bad to rush things, especially things like this. You should-you should come into them in your own time, when it's right for you, and it needs to be- it needs to be something more than just the moment,"

"You know," I was laughing a little, partly with frustration, partly because this whole thing was looney, "It's usually the girl that gives all these arguments to the guy. Next you're going to tell me a story about the free milk and the cow. It's more than just the moment for me, Angel. Is it for you?"

He looked so hurt then, and I felt bad, but I was angry, or maybe just frustrated.

"I mean, I am getting so sick of everybody acting like I'm not ready for things. How many demons do I have to kill before somebody treats me like a grownup?"

"I-" he stopped, then started again, "I care about you, Buffy. More than anything," he looked down, and said it again, almost to himself, "More than anything. You are the Slayer. You don't have a choice about that and you never will," he looked up at me and I suddenly realized what he meant, we were in the same boat, in a lot of ways. "You should have everything that's good and real be the best it can be. You do have to fight demons but you don't have to do a lot of other things,"

"So-I don't have to keep my hands off you if I don't want to?"

That threw him. He was speechless, for the moment.

I reached up and touched his chest. I unbuttoned one button on his shirt. He was trying to think of something to say. I undid another button, and he shifted, but he didn't pull away.

"Don't you know what this is for me?" he said, almost in a whisper.

"I probably would, if you'd tell me," I said. I moved my hand down along his chest, feeling the muscles under my fingers, and the butterflies in my stomach move into my throat. It was strange because he was acting so helpless, and I almost started to feel guilty, like I was molesting him.

"You think I don't want you," he said.

"Sometimes I'm not sure,"

"Be sure,"

"How am I supposed to do that, when-" He lifted me up so quickly it was like being on a roller coaster for a minute, a dizzy rush, he just wrapped one arm around me and hoisted me up and crushed me against him. The air went out of me. He grabbed one of my legs and brought it around his hips, so I just wrapped my legs around him...it all happened so fast, all of a sudden I was clenched around him and I could feel what he wanted me to feel. He kissed me and it was a ravenous kiss, his tongue drove into my mouth and he mashed me against his body. I shouted into his mouth. He broke the kiss and his eyes shot into mine.

"What do you feel?" he demanded.

"Angel," I could barely speak, I was liquid all over, my heart was trying to beat it's way out of my chest, it was thumping so hard it almost hurt.

"What do you feel, Buffy?"