Two things the living have invented that I allow myself: hot showers and soft towels. Of course refrigeration is convenient; cold blood in a bag keeps you alive, but it's never a delicacy. Hot water that warms the body and sweetens the skin is nothing less than ambrosia. Soap. All manner of scents, all manner of lathers. It's my weakness. It's one of my favorite things about America, the national obsession with cleanliness. Even if, at first, it meant nothing to me.

I know, I know....you think I owe it all to you. Not all of it.

In your own way, you have done a lot for me. It was a relief to finally be fighting them; well, a conflicted and strange relief, but the only I'd had in a hundred years or so. Killing other vampires lost it's horror after the first two. Of course there's horror....you get to see your own death. For me the squeamish side of it faded quickly, because I'd seen worse. Up close. And, of course, there was a young girl who was so alone...it was all about her, anyway, always. I fought them for her. You convinced me to be someone that counted, but Buffy made me a man again, or at least, as much a man as I'm capable of being. Just by existing, just by breathing, she made me want to be more, although after the experience on her windowsill I started thinking I should be a little bit less.

I avoided her for a couple of days; I just didn't show up anywhere. Things were moving too fast. She was coming into full bloom and I wasn't keeping up. I was afraid of losing control in a way that I couldn't explain even to myself; I needed to think, and....to stay away from her. Sound cowardly? Imagine that you haven't been touched by another living thing in over 100 years. Suddenly you're confronted with the most vibrant, sensual, beautiful being in the world....and you feel somehow that you could be a danger to her, not to mention the fact that you are absolutely unworthy of her. The world needs her; she's the Chosen One. What would you do?

I took long showers, and not as hot as I liked them. I had just got finished with one and got pants on when there was a knock on my door. It was Buffy's knock. That's a joke among the living, who haven't got the hunting senses vampires have. I could hear the shape of her hand.

I opened the door.

"Hi,"

"Hi, come in,"

"O.K."

Her eyes were full of questions and something that bordered on hurt. This needed to be fixed. I was suddenly washed over with guilt.

"Buffy, I know I haven't been around,"

She looked at me full on.

"It's not-it's not anything about you, or-"

"Do you want to break up?"

"No," I said, too loudly. But she relaxed a little.

"I could still be a danger to you-"

"You've saved my life a few times now. Don't you think I might be in more danger if you're not around? Haven't we covered this?"

"You can take care of yourself," I said, with some admiration.

She turned away from me and paced the room once. Then she stood in front of me again.

"Do I look different to you now?" she asked.

I was confused.

"What-different?"

"Yeah... now that...I mean, do I look weaker, do I look , I don't know, used-"

"Buffy-" I was shocked by how much I had hurt her.

"Do I?"

"No,"

"Have you lost interest in me-"

I couldn't help laughing. "Not likely,"

"Then why isn't it O.K. to want to touch you? If it's not about me, then there's no reason, because I want you. I know what I'm doing. I'm not a child. Life is going to be short for me, Angel-"

"Don't say that, don't ever say that," I took her shoulders in my hands. " It's not true,"

"It is true. I don't mean that every minute off-patrol has to be a swinging party, but I'm old enough to save the world from total destruction by demons. I'm almost old enough to vote. I've made some huge decisions in my life already. I know who I am, Angel. If you're afraid I'll get corrupted, it's too late. I already know what evil is. I already know that people die because sometimes I'm too late to save them. I already know that some of the worst things happen to the best people, and there's no reason why. I already know that some people don't get to fit in and be normal, ever. I already know that I can't have everything I want, and that life is short. What's left?"

I could only look into her eyes. I knew she was right about so much of it, but my core instincts were screaming. One of the first feelings I'd ever had for her was the urge to protect her. Her life would not be short. Not if I had anything to do with it.

"But neither one of us can know everything. There are things-that can be hidden, dangers we don't know about-"

"Angel, if you really aren't blowing me off, then this sounds a lot like paranoia,"

I gathered her close to me and pressed my lips to the top of her head. Every cell of me hungered to tell her I loved her. I was holding her tightly. I felt her sigh and relax even more.

"I know you respect me. I know you care about me. I know you want me," she said.

Tell her, tell her, the words raged through my mind.

She reached up and took my face in her hands and pulled my mouth onto hers. Her mouth was very warm, almost hot. Her hands wandered over me. An alarm went off inside me. I needed to get a shirt on. I started to pull away; she seized my wrist and pulled me back. She was using her strength. She meant business. Her hands were warm, too. They slipped over my shoulders, up an down my back, my neck, across my chest. It was heavenly. I loved her hands on me; if I'd been free to I would have just stood there and basked in her touch. Actually, I was doing just that. I jerked back from her. In one swift movement she tossed me over one of her legs, twisting and tripping me. I flew a good four feet and landed on the bed. Good shot, I couldn't help thinking. She wasn't only strong, she was accurate.

"Buffy-"

Her small hand went over my mouth. She crouched over me and kissed me ferociously, searching for my tongue and drawing deep on it. She gently gripped handfuls of my hair and released them. Her hands were all over me, kneading, stroking tenderly, gently raking her nails over my skin. Her fingers trailed downward, tantalizing my stomach with dancing fingertips. She began kissing my chest, tasting mouthfuls of my skin, devouring me with kisses. Her hands traveled over my hips, down my thighs, back upward, and then right onto where I was excruciatingly hard. I gasped and the muscles in my back arched sharply. I tried to move, but she had me pinned. Her hands were exploring the feel of me with first-time tenderness, lightly teasing. Her mouth traveled down further; she was kissing me just above my belt and dipping her tongue beneath...lower, lower. Her hands tested me, gripping, stroking, stroking harder, keyed to my responses, lengthening her strokes, quickening them. By this time I was completely unable to resist her; she was gaining confidence, moving her hands on me with her hunter's instincts, zeroing in on me. Her mouth was poised there; her breath was hot. She looked up at me, eyes brimming with desire.

I didn't hear myself shout but I felt my throat contract. It was like lightening tearing through me, sudden, jolting. Even in that moment I was afraid, but my body gave over to her, helplessly. I heard myself saying her name over and over like a song. She continued stroking and kissing me until it was over. She laid on top of me and planted her lips on mine. She kissed me until we both were starving for air; she settled down, wrapping herself around me on the bed, and then she sighed, a long, deep sigh of contentment. I was still shaking. After all, it had been a long time, by any standard; I had been fond of girls in my youth, but not one of them could have held a candle to Buffy. Buffy's vitality is both daunting and intoxicating. She's nothing like I remembered girls, who simpered and preened and manipulated. Buffy is the real thing. Centuries of observing the living, hunting them, drinking them down, had given me a deep understanding of them, but not necessarily of myself. It felt like my first time. I felt...exposed, and probably every bit as shaken as any vampire would be after being overpowered by a Slayer, after being so thoroughly and completely caressed that I could barely move.

"You'll never know how beautiful you are," she said.