"What do you feel, Buffy?"

My arms were around his neck. I slid my fingers into his hair. "I feel what I want," I said. I moved my hips against him and he was so hard, so hard it was almost unreal, and so big that it was intimidating, but I couldn't stop, I tightened my arms and legs around him and I kissed him again, my tongue searching for his, and he kissed me back, but he started to ease away from me and I thought I was going to faint.

He was letting me back down onto my feet. He took my face in his hands.

"There are some things you shouldn't doubt. Doubt a lot of things, be careful who you trust, never underestimate the enemy, don't take things for granted, that's all good. Never assume there's only one rogue vampire at a time. Don't think too little of Spike, just because you've beaten him a couple of times. Never think you know everything, because the minute you do you'll get blind-sided. That's the way you think and it should be the way you think. But don't ever doubt two things: Don't ever doubt how much you mean to me, and don't ever doubt that I want you so badly that I can just barely stand it,"

I was feeling weak all over, I slipped my arms around his waist and I laid my cheek on his bare chest, nuzzling his shirt aside. What a state he puts me in! I think if I had tried to walk right then I would have fallen down.

"Me, too," I said, and it came out in a whisper, "I can just barely stand it, too," I kissed him there, tasting him, I let my mouth wander over him. He smelled like a different soap tonight. It was nice. I wondered what kind it was, and I wondered how many bars of soap he has at a time, because his scent varies. The thought of him hoarding soap was adorable. I could feel him trying to stand away from me and I don't know why, I just did it, I took his nipple in my mouth. He made a wonderful, agonized sound. I slipped my arms around him. I suddenly wanted to eat him up, I wanted to ravish him, I wanted to do things to him that nobody else had ever done, I wanted to work him over, tease him until he begged me to stop, or begged me to do something else. I have never felt this way around a boy before. It's like being hungry but it goes so much deeper, it's a deep burn. It's more than a craving, it's more like an order.

"Buffy," his voice was higher than usual and a little loud. I loved it. My hands were inside his shirt, I swear if I didn't know I would have thought his skin was satin. I was kissing his throat and raking my nails gently over the very tips of his nipples in a kind of rhythm, and he was making little moans in that rhythm, his head was craned back, he was shaking. I took his other nipple in my mouth and slipped my tongue over it, back and forth, I let my hands slide down. He's got an amazing stomach, I love the way he's built, with wide shoulders, and then his waist gets so narrow, and my hand slipped down and down and under his belt-

And he jerked away from me.

"Buffy, I can't," his voice was thick.

"Can't what?" I couldn't keep the dissapointment out of my voice.

He was standing with his head lowered a little, like a bull about to charge, and he glanced sharply up at me, "If I were human, you'd be undressed and underneath me right now," he said. He shook himself a little and rubbed his hand through his hair. He buttoned his shirt.

"I want to be," I said. I was panting and I didn't even care.

He was walking away. He paused and held his hand out to me, but he wasn't looking at me.

"I'll walk you home," he said.

I wonder what it is that gives him all of that self-control, is it being undead or is it just being so old, being around for so long, that waiting is a habit? I was thinking about the generation gap between us, and I'm pretty sure it's about twelve generations. Maybe it's such a big gap that there is no gap, because he's timeless, somehow, you get the feeling he could fit in anywhere he wanted to. I know I should feel bad about letting myself go like that. Not because he wouldn't respect me, but because it was cruel...he was controlling himself for me. I know he worries about me and he wants me to be OK in every possible sense, but now I'm also sure that he wants me, and it makes me really happy. Really happy. Big happy. I don't even know what happens next now, but I know he understands me. Nobody ever will like he does, he even likes the way I hunt. Everybody else just likes the results of my Slaying, they don't like the Slaying itself much, and it can make you feel pretty unappreciated sometimes. I know how Giles feels about it, but he has to. Everybody likes to critisize, but not Angel. Or if he does, at least he backs it up, he shows up and puts his life on the line. And he's good, he's a great fighter. I like that. And he's cool, and he's polite, and he's sexy and he's way too beautiful...and I don't care what happens next.

I really am in love with him.