Music is courtesy of Incubus, the Violent Femmes, and Duran Duran.

"Wesley?"

Wesley jumped, startled. He hadn't even heard Angel come back upstairs. "Yes?"

"There's a strange redhead sleeping on the couch...did you know something about that?"

"She isn't strange, she's...well, maybe a bit quirky, but I wouldn't go so far as to say str-"

"Wesley!" Angel impatiently cut Wesley's meandering short.

"She's my cousin."

"Why's she sleeping on my couch?"

"I'd imagine because she was tired from her flight up and taking your bed would have been a bit forward," Wesley replied testily.

Point taken, Angel relaxed his stance a little. "So what precipitated this sudden visit?" He tried to soften his tone but he was always suspicious of new people. His circle of friends was a small one and he felt much more comfortable that way.

"I asked her to come." Wesley fiddled with some papers, avoiding Angel's gaze.

"Wesley..." Angel's voice held a warning.

Sudden steel behind his tone, Wesley looked Angel straight in the eyes, refusing to be intimidated. "There's something in the scroll I think you ought to see."

"Oh." Wind succinctly removed from his sails, Angel meekly followed Wesley to the desk to look at the passage in question. He read silently for a few moments, then looked up.

"An Archivist?" Angel cocked an expectant brow at Wesley.

"She's-"

"You and Cordy already keep track of everything just fine."

"Angel, she-"

"Why would we need an Archivist?"

"Angel!" Losing patience with his boss, Wesley dared raise his voice and almost shouted at the mildly agitated vampire.

"How do you know it's her?" Angel forced himself to quit goading Wesley, but the former Watcher was being more close-mouthed than Angel liked, because it usually meant he was hiding something.

Wesley blew his breath out in an irritated sigh. "I don't KNOW it's her any more than you KNOW when your humanity will be restored." The gibe struck home and Angel shut his mouth with a snap, settling into what Cordelia called his "Brood Boy" face.

"Then why-"

"She's eidetic."

"Oh."

Feeling a little chastened, Angel went back downstairs, intending to go to the kitchen and feed, then maybe sleep, but he stopped and moved a little closer to the sleeping figure, curious. Long hair of a dark cherrywood-red hue curled around her peaceful face and his vampire senses felt attracted to the color. He studied the lines of her face. Wide cheekbones hinted at Native American ancestry but the nose was purely aristocratic French and the skin was pale with a healthy pinkish undertone. He wondered what color her eyes were, but was willing to bet they were light because she had gold-tipped lashes and cinnamon-hued brows. And a lovely full mouth... *Stop that,* he chided himself. *You're looking her over like you're planning...nevermind!*

He turned his attention to her outstretched arm, flung across the couch cushion. Apparently she was a sprawling-type sleeper, which amused him. She certainly looked comfortable. She had small hands with medium length nails, but they looked strong. He studied the tracery of veins under the surface of her skin, ghostly blue lines commanding his attention.

His heightened vampiric senses could almost feel the ebb and flow of her blood through her body in time with her heartbeat. *God, I bet she tastes sweet,* he thought, then berated himself again. *You've got no business thinking about biting her...there are only two times you bite, when you're fighting and when you're...well, you aren't going to be fighting her and you sure aren't going to be...anyway, if she knew what you were, she'd run screaming.*

She stirred then, rolling onto her back, head back on the pillow, giving him an uninterrupted view of the smooth line of her throat running down to the shadow of her cleavage. His mouth practically watered to taste her...just the perfect spot right there on the side of her neck...

Her lashes flickered, eyes opening and regarding him drowsily, and she offered him a sleepy smile as she stretched. He'd been right about the hue; they were light, but he hadn't expected such a unique shade. A golden ring around each pupil shaded into a pale green-grey. There was no fear in her expression as recognition stole across her face.

"Angel?" Definitely southern, probably Louisiana, not as far over as Alabama or Georgia. Wesley had mentioned her flight up, so Angel figured he'd placed her more or less correctly.

Nodding, he said, "I'm afraid you've got the advantage of me here."

She frowned. "Wesley didn't tell you I was coming?"

Angel shook his head and she looked contrite as she sat up, running a hand through her hair. "Are you mad?" She wrinkled her nose at him and he felt much more at ease with her from that one endearing gesture.

"No, I'm not mad," he reassured her, the corner of his mouth curling in a small smile. She was really cute when she made that face.

"Well, I'll apologize for him, though he does enough on his own, I'm sure. I'm Rhysa." She held out her hand and he took it, feeling tingly sparks from the contact. "Wow, he was right," she exclaimed, turning his hand over in hers and stroking her fingertips lightly over his palm.

"About?" Bemused, he watched her, not inclined in the slightest to pull away. Her touch felt good, skin warming his own.

"Your skin...your temperature."

"He told you about me?" Angel's eyes widened in disbelief. She knew and she was sitting right here next to him? Touching? Talking? Not running?

She rolled her eyes. "WESLEY!" she bellowed in a surprisingly loud voice. The door upstairs opened and hasty footsteps could be heard descending the stairs. Wesley stopped short at the sight of his diminutive cousin holding his employer's hand between her smaller ones.

"Omit much?" she demanded of her harried cousin.

"I'm sorry," he apologized to both of them. "I should have-"

"Let's leave it at that," Rhysa interrupted him. "You should have. Now I've barged in and probably aggravated Angel to death because 'you should have'."

"No, it's okay," Angel protested, not wanting her to feel that way. Twin pairs of pale eyes turned to him, one round and one a catlike almond, silently asking in an identical manner, "Are you sure?"

"It's okay," he repeated firmly, reluctantly drawing his hand out of Rhysa's light grasp. "I'm going to feed and try to get some sleep; I'll see you two later."

"Wesley," she reproved the second Angel left the room, "why didn't you tell him you were practically dropping me in his lap?"

"I should have said something, I know."

"You never change, do you?" Affection sparkled in her eyes as she said this. "Pacifist."

"Neither do you," he pointed out. "Instigator. How have things been at home?"

"Quiet. Same old, just working. Built a wicked new system-" She stopped, knowing if she started talking computers she'd lose Wesley instantly. He was definitely not a hardware person. "I didn't, I had not heard of this Prophecy thing you were talking about. You tend to go academician on me when you're talking about your work," she teased. "Kind of came across as though I was being invited to a Dungeons & Dragons tournament."

Angel, perfectly able to hear them from the kitchen with his superior hearing, suppressed a snicker. From the outside he supposed that's exactly what his life would sound like. There was him, the Souled Vampire, Wesley the former Watcher and now Rogue Demon Hunter, Cordelia the Seer, even Dennis the Ghost. Now it looked like he had for all practical purposes an Archivist on his hands.

"He's nice," she commented, referring to Angel. "He's...well, he's kind of comfortable feeling. Seems pretty laid back." In the kitchen, Angel quirked a brow and smiled. Those were phrases he would not have expected to have applied to him even before he was turned and especially not since he was re-souled.

Wesley snorted. "You don't work for him."

"For someone who has to work with you, as I was going to say." She laughed at Wesley's expression. "Wesley, behave. I know who he was and who he is now, and that isn't really fair for you to say. If you think he's uptight I'm sure he's earned the right to be. And you're hardly King Relaxation."

"I was joking," Wesley protested.

"You? Joking? Are you ill?" She felt his forehead for fever and they were laughing when Angel emerged from the kitchen. He realized with a pang that he didn't see Wesley laugh nearly enough and felt a little better about the sudden visitor. If Wesley was happier for it, that was a good thing. Hopefully Cordy would like Rhysa too.

"I've got to get back upstairs, Cordelia's going to kill me," Wesley said, rising. "Oh, and Rhy?" He paused on the stairs and gave her a most insouciant look, "I forgot to tell you about the hearing range." With a very un-Wesley like snicker he closed the door behind him.

Rhysa turned her expectant gaze to meet Angel's and he wished he could fade into the background. "Sometimes miles if conditions are right," he said slowly, watching embarrasment bloom in her cheeks.

"Oh." was all she said. "Lovely."

He smiled then, touching her flushed cheek lightly with a cool finger. "Don't worry about it."

"I'll be up to patrol later," he said, heading for his bedroom in search of sleep. As always, he dreamed, but not of grey mists and tortured faces this time. He dreamed of rain, and sweet night-blooming jasmine, and dark red hair trailing across his skin like runnels of blood.

As he walked up the stairs, animated female voices assaulted his ears. He stepped into the office unnoticed and observed Cordelia and Rhysa trading men-bashing insults in their respective native languages. Creole he hadn't a clue about because it was so far removed from its French forebear, but Cordy had taught him a lot of Californian.

He watched for a moment, noticing the thick ponytail Rhy had caught her hair up in exposed her neck, then shook himself free of those thoughts. "What are they doing?" he quietly asked Wesley, who sat on the edge of his desk, arms folded, smiling as he watched the exchange.

"They're bonding," he replied.

"Bonding?" He looked helplessly at Wesley, who was smirking. Wesley just shrugged.

"Much as I hate to interrupt this wholesome family moment, there's patrolling to do. Wesley, coming?" Angel's dark gaze met Rhysa's and held for a moment before he forced his away.

"Not you," he said when Cordelia opened her mouth to speak. She pouted and muttered something to Rhy about how Cosmo was right about older men. Rhy laughed in agreement.

"Be careful," she said to Wesley, but her eyes were on Angel, leaving him strangely warm. "Call it a tie?" she queried Cordy, who laughed her assent.

She was watching TV on the couch when Angel half-stumbled through the door, shirt torn and bloody and his hair in disarray.

"I'm okay," he reassured her at her astonished look. "It just looks bad."

"Um, you're bloody," she pointed out. He looked down, aware of crimson streaks on his shirt and patches of skin exposed through rents in the fabric.

"It isn't mine," he said as he stowed his weapons. He started unbuttoning his shirt, raising a brow in Rhysa's direction when she giggled.

"Kind of pointless, isn't it?" She grinned broadly at him.

He eyed the remains of his shirt front and nodded agreement, a smile touching his mouth briefly. "I need a shower," he said, heading in that direction. "Shower, food, rest."

"Do you want me to warm something up for you?"

Surprised, he turned. "You don't have to do that."

"I wouldn't have offered if I thought I 'had to'," she returned.

"Okay," he agreed. "That would be nice. Thanks."

"Microwave," she called when he opened the bathroom door. He emerged barefoot and in his usual dark clothes, toweling his hair dry.

"Thanks," he called back, going into the kitchen. He drank, pleased it was just the right temperature, then wandered back to the bathroom to hang up his towel and brush his teeth.

Coming into the den, he dropped onto the couch beside her. He sensed some tension coming from her but didn't comment on it. Finally she faced him, expression slightly anxious.

"I know you probably don't want to talk about this stuff when you've been dealing with it all day but what's the deal with this scroll Prophecy thing that Wes thinks I'm in?"

"It's okay, I don't mind." He wanted to put her a little more at ease if he could. She was really nice and had been surprisingly patient and he felt she deserved explanations. "It mentions an Archivist, a Cleric of sorts, if you will...someone who serves as a repository of knowledge."

"Okay..." she said doubtfully. "So if it's me I'm supposed to what? Be some sort of walking human library? Encyclopedia Bipedannica?"

Angel sighed. Sarcasm he could handle; Cordelia had given him lots of practice. His feeling of responsibility was another story. So many people were dragged in by TPTB and were not terribly happy about the interruption of their lives. Somehow he always seemed to be the one elected to deal with each and every one of them, and not everyone was so accepting of their role in his quest. At least she wasn't angry, just puzzled and curious.

"Well, one example...Cordelia has a vision and sees a certain type of demon, I sketch it from her description and then we identify it. Your talent would eliminate the time needed to search for it...you'd know as soon as you looked at the sketch what it was. That difference will save time and could save lives."

"Oh." Her voice was tiny. He tipped her chin up with a finger, coaxing her to look at him, the artist in him noting her bone structure. Grey-green eyes regarded him steadily, a troubled expression lurking in their depths.

"Are you going to be okay with this?" He was reluctant to ruin, as he thought of it, any more lives with his mission of penance. Had he needed breath, he would have been holding it, waiting for her answer.

She shrugged, looking down, then back up at him. His beautiful dark eyes were haunted, she'd expected that from what she'd learned of him from Wesley, but she had not expected such concern.

"Yeah," she said simply, bravely, choosing to trust him. Vampire or not, he was being terribly kind, and she wasn't averse to the idea that this might be where she belonged, that this might be the use her talent was meant for.

"You're sure?" He tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear, then made himself remove his hands.

"From language codes to books, I suppose I can swing it," she said. Changing the subject, she indicated the TV. "Watch with me?" she invited, and he smiled, letting her get away with it. Cordelia told him that he worried too much and he sensed this was probably one of those times. Still, he hated the feeling that once again his quest for redemption had altered someone's previously ordered existence, and he decided to visit the Oracles as soon as possible to inquire about this.

So he sat with her, aware of her every breath, every movement; every sidelong glance. Staying could have been a silent attempt to make it up to her, but his motivation was more than just his own guilt. He liked her, plain and simple. She was warm and open and made him feel at ease. She'd accepted his nature without question and treated him no differently for it. She'd...she'd fallen asleep and was sliding down against his shoulder, he noted with amusement. He studied her peaceful face for a moment, lightly touching her cheek. Lifting her carefully into his arms, he carried her into his room, sliding her into his bed. Changing clothes and donning his coat, he quietly made his way through the night to the Oracles.

"It is written, that an Archivist shall aid you in your fight against evil," he was told.

"But she didn't ask for any of this, none of them did. People keep getting yanked out of their lives and into mine."

"It is written," They said again.

Shaking his head and sighing in exasperation, Angel turned to leave.

"We understand your concern," They said. "Because of this, it is permitted."

"What is permitted?" he turned back to face Them, puzzled as usual by Their cryptic remarks.

"Your Archivist is to be your focal point and thus she is permitted." They said. With that, he found himself back outside, not terribly enlightened.

He brooded on the way home, which Cordelia would have called him to task for. Walking in the door, he hung up his coat and crept into his bedroom to check on Rhysa. She was still sleeping, facing the doorway. He smoothed her hair gently back from her brow and a small smile crossed her face.

"You're back," she murmured softly, not opening her eyes.

"Uh huh." He had no idea how she'd known he was gone. "Go back to sleep." He toyed with a lock of her hair where it lay on the pillow, thinking furiously as he studied her face.

"Okay."

Her simple answer made him smile. "Sweet dreams," he said softly, dropping an impulsive kiss onto her forehead before making his bed on the couch.

The shifting of the bed alerted her somewhere down in the layers of sleep she was submerged in...Angel was trying to be careful and not wake her but vampire stealth or not, you can't settle 200+ pounds of male, no matter how carefully, onto a bed without moving it. She made a soft, inquisitive noise in her throat and curled up around his knee, hiding her face. The sight made him smile; she reminded him of a sleeping kitty.

"Waking up anytime soon?" he asked quietly, smoothing tangled russet locks out of her face.

"No." Her voice was a little rough, husky with sleep, and he found that he liked it. Not sure if she was serious, he waited silently.

"Okay, okay. Slave driver. Shoulda listened to Cordy." She rolled onto her back, making no effort to rise. Angel smiled at that and she smiled back, circling his wrist lightly with her fingers where he was braced on the bed.

*YANK*

Angel found himself suddenly nose to nose with a mischievous redhead, his chest resting firmly against hers. "I told you that I didn't want to kick you out of your bed."

"Um." She smelled and felt entirely too good...her heart thumped strongly against his chest and her eyes were mesmerizing up this close. "You fell asleep, I didn't want to just leave you there."

"Well, next time, do, okay? I'm putting you out enough by crashing here in the first place." She released him, just the tiniest brush of skin and then cool air replacing her warmth. Not that delicate fingers braceleting his wrist were really keeping him in place...he stayed there because he enjoyed the closeness.

"I don't mind," he said, bracing his hands on either side of her head and giving her an unreadable look before pushing himself up off of her. "I do say no to those two once in a while."

She snorted, stifling a giggle.

"What?"

She shook her head, mirth sparkling in her eyes.

"Tell."

"Nuh uh, pally...no no no..." Her eyes dared him and he reached out slowly, deliberately, fingers seeking her ribs. "Angel, don't do that!"

He actually smiled and she was too captivated by it to defend herself when his hands descended on her sides. He gave an investigative poke and was rewarded by an earsplitting squeal.

Wincing, he poked gently again. "Angel, stop it-" she gasped, unable to catch a breath. "That tickles would you STOP IT!"

"That's the idea," he said, trapping her in his strong arms and tickling her. He grinned as she squealed and wriggled madly, but the grin faded when he noticed just how that wriggling against his body affected him. Her face was so close to his that he could have kissed her...he wanted to, really, and knew she was aware of the proximity too.

Interrupting with his usual sense of timing, Wesley poked a head cautiously through the door. "Is everything alright? I heard a scream-" He stopped short at the sight of his normally formidable, brooding boss kneeling on the bed tickling his giggling, red-faced cousin.

"I see you two are getting on well," he commented dryly. "I'll tell Cordelia that everything's alright, shall I?"

Angel nodded, clearing his throat. He hastily stood when Rhy batted at his still hands.

"I'm not dead, Wes...everything's fine," she reassured her cousin.

"I'm still dead, ditto," Angel chimed in dryly, protesting when Rhy smacked his arm.

"Good...good." Giving them a baffled look, Wesley withdrew and clattered back upstairs.

"What was that for?" Angel raised a brow at Rhy.

"Because that's not a very nice way to talk about yourself," she replied, sitting up.

"It's true, though."

She rolled her eyes at him. "It's true that I am short and have a big nose but do you see me pointing it out? Nopers." Yawning widely, she used his beltloop as leverage as she climbed out of the bed. "Go pick me out some books to start on. I'll grab a shower and start looking."

"Okay," Angel said agreeably. He looked down at the top of her head. "You are short," he commented, earning him another smack to the arm. "I didn't comment either way," he objected. "And I like your nose."

"Books," she said again, trying to look stern but unable to control her smile.

"Okay, okay." He headed for the door then paused, turning back to her. "You want breakfast? Rumor has it I'm pretty good with eggs."

"That," she said, "would be great." She slipped through the doorway past him, giving his ribs a goose on the way by and snickering as she vanished into the bathroom, leaving him smiling after her.

"I can't make anything of it either." Wesley shrugged helplessly after listening to Angel's tale, and Cordelia agreed.

"Unless they mean she's been permitted to come into the group," was her only guess.

"Yes, but that does not explain us," Wesley countered. "It seems that she's to be the focus for our labors, directing them to you," he indicated Angel, "in a direct and organized manner. Think of a prism. Takes scattered elements, in this case research, and focuses them into one location, you." He looked proud of himself for the analogy.

Angel sighed. "I understand what you're saying but I still don't know what they meant she's permitted to do...I guess it'll make itself clear in time. I hope so. She's not thrilled about being dragged into this, I'm sure."

Cordy and Wesley exchanged a glance. She seemed to be adapting rather well, to them. Angel's guilt was acting up again. She'd told Wesley that she was perfectly comfortable staying with the vampire and was looking forward to delving into a new field of knowledge.

"If I wanted him to feel guilty for shaking up my life, I'd tell him that," she replied when Cordelia cautioned her that Angel might be extra-broody sometimes over his self-imposed guilt. "Hello, clue bus, life moves around."

He heard her, of course. There wasn't really anywhere in the office or apartment that he couldn't hear conversations if he listened. And, he smiled to himself, she probably knew he could hear her. And it was doubtful she minded. She'd say the same thing whether or not he was standing right there, he'd learned, and he found the directness refreshing. Although at times between her and Cordelia he wished for earplugs for him and tact for them.

Routine was born, after a fashion. Rhysa spent her days reading and Angel spent evenings quizzing her, testing her memory. He found it flawless and was astounded, not to mention thankful for TPTB bringing her into their circle. He grew to love her quick mind, and her acid tongue often combined with Cordelia's to completely skin him alive when he did something they disagreed with, usually something typically male. Her expressive, lively face and manner didn't hurt either. He came to really enjoy being in her company.

Angel stopped in the doorway, as yet unnoticed by the little ball of energy that paced the living room, muttering to herself. Amused, he watched her, admiring the way she looked in an itty-bitty royal blue dress.

"Thalos." She closed her eyes, tapping her temple frustratedly. "Turrus. Thalos. Turrus. Why can't I tell those two apart?"

"Turrus demons don't have a tongue," Angel said quietly, smothering a grin as she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Angel! Don't sneak up on me like that!" She whirled to face him, impatiently batting her braided ponytail back over her shoulder when it swung forward. Her heart thumped a little faster than necessary for just having been startled; he always looked so damn good in black, all long legs and broad shoulders.

"I tried to make noise," he protested, his mirth showing clearly in his dark eyes.

"You call yourself trying," she corrected archly, mustering as fierce of a scowl as she could for his benefit. "Besides, it's not like if I see one coming at me I'm going to ask him to stick out his tongue."

"It," he corrected. "They're asexual." He ducked when she swatted at him. "I'll find the book they're in for you. There are a few ways to tell them apart; unfortunately you have to be pretty close for most of them. And I hope if you saw one coming at you you'd be way behind me and one hell of a big axe."

"Ooo, the big bad vamp," she teased, walking deliberately up to him. She draped her arms lightly over his shoulders and stared intently up at him. "Protecting lil' ole me."

"I don't want anything to happen to you," he said, mesmerized as always by her unusual eyes...he might not be able to go into the sun but it glowed brightly for him in her eyes as a perfect golden ring around each pupil. He raised his hands to rest gently on her hips, fingers absently smoothing the fabric of her dress.

"I know." She stood on tiptoe and he thought she might actually be about to kiss him, but she grinned and rubbed his nose with hers in an Eskimo kiss. "That's a good thing," she added as she dropped back to flat feet, releasing him and going back to the note cards she'd been studying. She'd laughed when Angel had produced them, claiming that flash cards gave her nightmares of third grade math all over again, but the fact that he had drawn them for her had touched her.

"You're restless." Angel leaned against the doorframe, watching her.

"I know, I know. I said I was going to read so many chapters a day but it's kind of hard to bend my mind around this dimension stuff sometimes so I went to the cards instead."

"Want to get out of the house for a while?" Angel surprised himself by making the offer but managed to cover it; Rhysa, however, was not as adept. She stared at him for a moment as he walked over to her, not sure she'd heard him right.

"Okay," she finally said, putting the cards aside and reaching for her low-heeled sandals. Slipping them on, she stood up next to him. He looked at the top of her head, privately amused. Sometimes the force of her personality made him forget how small she was, even in heels. He ushered her out the door in front of him, locking up and pocketing his key. They walked side by side silently, Rhysa taking in the nice night and Angel watching her, enjoying her good mood. As they walked, occasionally their arms brushed and once their hands. When it happened again she slipped her hand into his, startling him, but he didn't mind, so he curled his fingers around hers in response, liking the fit.

"So where to?" She tugged gently at his hand and he bumped playfully into her.

"Somewhere." He smiled engagingly at her as he steered her round the corner. She followed docilely, stunned by the rare smile. Angel had a beautiful smile when he showed it, which wasn't often. Usually his humor was expressed with a small quirk of the mouth or the expression in his eyes, but when he pulled out the full smile she melted.

"Oh yeah...Cordy warned me about this side of you," she teased when she beheld the sign for an ice cream shop. He shrugged awkwardly, hoping she wasn't going to tell him she hated ice cream or something like that. "You," she said, completely surprising him by standing on tiptoe and pressing a kiss onto his cheek, "are a sweetie."

If he'd had the ability to blush, he'd have been beet red. "Don't let it get around," he said dryly, eliciting a giggle from her as he opened the door for her. She preceded him through, eyeing the contents of the display case while he eyed her shapely legs.

"What are you getting?" She turned, almost catching him in the act.

*You don't want to know the answer to that,* he thought, glad for an untucked shirt. "Mint chocolate chip. Staple requirement at home. You?"

She felt flushed as he leaned just a little into her back under the guise of looking into the case with her. "Jamocha. Hate coffee, love coffee ice cream," she said.

"Save me a bite?" At her wide eyed look, he hastily added, "No pun intended." She dissolved into giggles and he had to smile. He paid for their selections, elbowing her gently when she started to object, then following her to a table back outside.

"It's nice out," she offered by way of explanation.

*It certainly is,* he mentally agreed, again watching her legs. He suddenly found himself looking at the front of her knees and guiltily raised his eyes to meet hers. She was laughing.

"Caught ya," she teased. "I'll get you back," she warned playfully.

"Make it good," he returned. "Just remember I don't like chains." He surprised himself with the double entendre but knew she was aware of enough of his background to understand it. Her mouth formed an O of surprise and she swatted at him.

"That was NOT funny," she said, wide grin belying her words as she offered him a bite of her ice cream.

"Okay, it wasn't," he smiled back, covering her hand with his, directing the spoon. "Not bad," he said after swallowing, "but I like actual coffee better."

"Blecchh." She made a terrible face, shaking her head when he offered her a bite of his. "Mint is for gum and toothpaste," was her comment.

"Not tea?" He quirked a brow at her.

"Okay, spearmint in green tea, but that's it."

"Okay, I'll make a note. No kissing you after using mouthwash." He surprised himself with the daring remark but she played it off, praying he wasn't paying attention to her suddenly speeding pulse.

"Ha ha." She stuck her tongue out at him, revealing a silvery barbell.

"That's not actual silver, is it?" he queried, earning a sardonic look.

"Silver is a dirty metal. Body jewelry should be 316L or greater implant grade surgical stainless steel," she lectured, licking her spoon rather deliberately, watching his eyes follow her mouth. "Is it true? About werewolves and silver?"

"Well, I've only known one true lycanthrope, and I'm glad no one ever shot him to see," he said, mesmerized by her motions. *Let's see if two can play this game,* he thought, stealing more of her ice cream with his spoon.

"Thought you didn't like it?" Rhy watched him intently.

"Never said that...I said not bad. I think it gets better with exposure," he commented, dark eyes daring her.

"Exposure...gotcha." She thoughtfully watched his mouth, giving him a smug feeling of mission accomplished, but his bubble was burst at her next remark as she reverted to Twenty Questions. She was always full of questions about the physiology of a vampire, storing every bit of knowledge she gleaned, but he knew she usually asked because she was interested in him, not just for the knowledge itself. That attention made him feel really good...and even more attracted.

"So you don't have to eat, but you can...is your sense of taste the same or what?"

"With some things. It differs from vampire to vampire. That sounded weird, didn't it?" He smiled a little when she chuckled at his phrasing.

"It did. You about ready?" She rose and threw her container in a nearby receptacle, turning back to him as he stood up and went to do the same.

"Yep." He reached for her hand and she yelped at the cold touch. "Sorry," he smirked.

"I fail to detect genuine contrition here," she teased, taking his hand between hers and tucking it against her neck to warm it. "You don't feel temperature at all?"

"I'm aware of it, and it changes my skin, but it doesn't affect me. I don't sweat or get chills unless I'm really sick."

"No sweating? Lucky you."

"Well, I guess. The temperature thing kind of weirds some people out." He cupped the back of her neck with his palm, now merely cool instead of cold, and squeezed gently before sliding his arm around her shoulders, tucking her firmly against his side. Pleased, she reciprocated with an arm around his waist, smiling up at him.

"Some people," she said softly, her expression suddenly growing serious, "don't necessarily deserve that designation."

Touched, Angel stared at her, wanting very badly to just kiss her. He settled instead for asking, "Why doesn't it bother you?"

She shrugged. "It's part of who you are, who I happen to like, by the way. Are you gonna treat a person with diabetes or something else any differently? It doesn't change who you are."

"Angelus is not very likeable," he commented dryly, and she tugged on his beltloop.

"He's not you. He's a soulless critter."

Angel laughed. He could only imagine Angelus's rage at being referred to as a 'critter' and it tickled him.

"Why do they hate humans?" she asked as he released her to unlock the door when they arrived back.

"I don't know," he replied thoughtfully. "Because they're weaker, maybe. Vampires wouldn't care to answer and humans wouldn't live long enough to ask."

"Nice," she said wryly, frowning at him as she walked inside.

"Hey, I didn't make the rules," he protested, hoping she wasn't actually mad.

"I know," she replied softly, turning to him. Heavy silence descended as they stared at one another, attraction almost palpable.

"I'm glad Wes brought you down here," he remarked quietly, reaching for her hands, drawing her closer. *You can't do this,* his mind warned him, and he firmly told it to shut up because he wasn't doing anything. Yet.

"Are you?" She smiled happily at him.

"Yeah." This last was almost a whisper as he bent his head, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. Hearing faint noise outside the door, he tensed, then relaxed when he recognized it as Gunn.

"Are we patrolling, man?" Gunn poked his head in the door, arching a curious brow in Rhy's direction.

"This is Wesley's cousin Rhysa," Angel introduced.

"Looks must be on your side, not his," Gunn commented cheerfully as he held out his hand. "Charles Gunn."

"Brains and manners too," she responded, grinning as she shook with him.

"I like her," he told Angel matter-of-factly.

"So do I," Angel said, dark eyes giving away more then he meant to under Gunn's perceptive gaze. He'd come to know his employer pretty well and he could see pretty clearly what was going on here.

"Let me get my stuff," Angel said to Gunn, reaching for Rhy's hand and leading her downstairs. She watched him retrieve his weapons, then he turned to her. "I'll be back," he said, giving her a telling look.

"Be careful," she cautioned, touching his face gently before drawing back.

"Yes ma'am," he smiled, her concern warming him.

"Hey." He came through the door and smiled as she regarded him, drowsy-eyed, from her position stretched out on the sofa.

"Hey." She smiled. "How'd it go?"

"Nothing, not even a peep."

"Does evil peep?" She giggled at the idea. "Demonic chickens?"

"Vampire Marshmallow Peeps," he corrected her, beginning to laugh as well as he walked over and perched on the coffee table in front of her.

"I knew those things were evil!" she exclaimed, giggling even harder, wiping tears away as she sat up.

"Well, those colors don't exist in nature," he said, reaching for the buttons on his shirt, pausing after only three when he sensed her pulse speeding up. She was staring at him so intently that he felt a little flustered.

"How fast do you heal?" She reached out and he sat still, letting her undo the rest of the buttons. He briefly closed his eyes as she touched his smooth, unscarred skin, tentatively stroking her fingertips over his throat and down his breastbone. He enjoyed the fleeting warmth, realizing how much he missed touch.

*Great, more clinical interest,* he thought to himself, although that didn't explain her physiological changes. He had noticed that her vital signs tended to spiral upwards at certain times around him, and he knew why, but wasn't about to mention it to her. "It depends. Overnight with shallow wounds, as long as I get to feed."

"Oh." Her eyes followed the path of her hand, then raised to meet his. He covered her hand with his, lacing his fingers through hers.

"I need a shower," he said, not releasing her, and she nodded.

After a moment she queried, "You leaving that hand with me or what?" with a smile threatening to break free.

"Funny. Very funny." He let go then, rising and walking towards the bathroom, tossing his shirt over his shoulder at her and laughing at her shriek of outrage.

"I do not want your sewer castoffs, thank you very much!" He ducked into the bathroom but not before the shirt wrapped around his head as she threw it. Grinning, he shut the door and stripped, stepping into a wonderfully hot shower, looking forward to his "dinner" being ready when he got out. He was really comfortable with the semblance of normalcy they'd adapted. He kind of liked being taken care of, after a fashion.

Toweling his hair, he donned a white tank top and dark cotton pants, ambling into the kitchen to feed. Rhysa was asleep; he could tell from her relaxed heartbeat and deep respiration. The thought that she'd waited up for him made him smile as he went to brush his teeth.

Rinsing his mouth of toothpaste, he dried his lips and went into the den, studying the sleeping girl. He settled into the corner of the couch and giving in to impulse, reached for her, drawing her across his lap and cradling her against his chest. She stirred but didn't fully wake and he listened to the steady thump of her heart for a moment, thinking about the Oracles and her role in his life.

"They were right about how important you'd become to us...to me..." he said softly, knowing she couldn't hear him. Smoothing her hair back, he eyed the pale blue tracery of veins at the base of her neck and across her shoulder. Her blood sang to him of life and health and it drew him. Dropping a soft kiss onto her forehead, he turned his attention to the TV, but the kiss apparently registered with her.

"Angel?" Her voice was heavy with sleep.

"Uh huh?"

"I fell asleep." She sounded guilty.

"You fell asleep." He smiled. "You didn't have to wait up."

"I wanted to." Accepting her present position, she wound her arms around his neck, burrowing against him. He felt the sweep of her lashes as she blinked, then closed her eyes. "I feel so safe with you," she commented, beginning to drift again.

"You're supposed to," he said, then added, "I promise I'll keep you that way."

"I know." Her breath was warm against his neck as she settled a little more deeply into his arms. "I love your skin," she sighed, making his eyes widen in surprise.

"I'll try to keep it in one piece for you, then," he responded a bit shakily. "The rest of me might get a little jealous from time to time, though."

She laughed, another soft breath against his neck.

"Why don't you let me put you to bed? I'll sleep out here." He'd tried to insist more than once that she take his bed and give him the couch, and she always refused.

"Mm. Don't wanna go..."

"Why not?"

"Comfortable."

He knew the only way he could win this particular argument was if she fell completely asleep and he tucked her in. She probably wouldn't have protested too much if he actually had, but this snuggling business was new to him and he was enjoying it.

"Aren't you?" She moved a little, as though thinking about raising her head, but abandoned the idea, too lazy to even attempt it.

"I generally am with you."

They'd gravitated over time from sitting on opposite ends of the sofa to sitting side by side, then to him crowded into the corner with her leaning against his side. He didn't mind...he relished the chances to study her skin, thinking wistfully about tasting her.

He wanted so much to move things further, but he was afraid. Afraid of releasing Angelus, though he never seemed to feel him stirring when he was with Rhysa. Afraid that she'd realize he could never give her normal things and that she'd abandon him.

Afraid that she would embrace him wholeheartedly.

She reluctantly opened her eyes, slowly becoming aware that (a), Angel had finally left her on the couch, and then quickly after that, (b), that he hadn't left at all. He was sleeping dangerously close to the edge of the couch, Rhysa on the inside with his arms looped securely around her and her head pillowed on his chest.

"I so do not want to move," she muttered under her breath, and he stirred, tightening his arms a little.

"Angel." No response. "Annngelllll..." Still nothing. Sighing, she raised her head to look at him. He was just as beautiful asleep as awake, not that that surprised her too much.

"I know you don't need to breathe but I do and you're kind of interfering with that," she said, wondering to herself why she was talking to a sleeping person. "How do you wake up a sleeping vampire?"

He stirred again then, stretching, drawing her even closer. "Complaining that he's squashing you apparently works pretty well."

"Well..." She coughed as he loosened his hold. "I didn't mean to wake you up, but...the oxygen thing..."

"I understand completely," he said gravely, eliciting a giggle from her. "What?" Cautiously, he slitted one eye open, then finding the room was pleasantly dim, opened both of them fully.

"Nothing." She colored slightly under the scrutiny of his amazingly sexy, sleepy-eyed gaze.

"Had to be something." The quirk at the corner of his mouth betrayed his humor; he was baiting her.

"No..." She stared back at him, lost in his beautiful dark eyes. "Sure you're not Creole somewhere? You have amazing eyes."

His brows lifted in surprise. "I do?"

"You do."

Absurdly pleased, he smiled at her. "I kind of like yours, myself."

"Aren't we just the mutual admiration society," she quipped, stretching. He smoothed a hand down the arch of her spine, admiring the lines of her body.

"Mm," he replied noncommittally, distracted by watching her, thinking about sketching her.

"Blah." She pillowed her head on his chest again, leaving him eyeing the part in her hair.

"Want to translate that?" He walked his fingers slowly over her back in a gentle massage, partly for her but partly for himself, to memorize the angles and curves of her shape.

"I have to book my flight today." She sighed heavily.

"Flight?" He stilled momentarily, then resumed his motions, deliberately casual.

"I'm going home."

"What?" Angel was visibly shaken and she raised her head, regarding him with some alarm.

"Um, invited here, drafted into staying, no stuff here, no car..."

"Oh." He hadn't thought about any of that, which he probably should have, he chastised himself. He might have been able to make arrangements...and now she was leaving... "How long are you going to be gone?"

"Maybe a week, not sure. I have loose ends to tie up and I've got to start looking for a place here-"

"You're moving out?" Again he was floored.

"Well, I'm living on your couch, or would be if you'd ever remember the guest is supposed to." She smiled fondly at him, wriggling free of his grasp, climbing over him and standing up, managing to seriously rumple him in the process. She went into the bathroom and he heard her splash water on her face, then she returned.

"Move it or lose it." She began to sit, angling right for his stomach until he hurriedly scooted to the inside of the couch, still warm from her body heat. She reached for the phone and dialed, smiling when there was an answer and speaking in rapid-fire Creole. Angel lay behind her on his side, propped on his elbow, already brooding. He didn't want her to move out; as a matter of fact he did not want her to go at all. He watched her profile as she laughed and talked animatedly, and he felt even lonelier. *You can't hope to make any kind of claim on her,* he told himself. *You can't offer her what she deserves.*

As though she sensed his somber mood, she scooted back against him, dropping an arm around his waist. The affectionate gesture made him feel a little better, but he was still upset at the prospect of her moving.

"You're welcome to stay here," he commented when she hung up.

"Huh?" She raised a brow at him, puzzled.

"You're welcome to stay here."

"I kind of feel like I'm in the way," she demurred.

"I hope you didn't get that impression from me, because I've kind of liked having you here."

"Yeah? Why's that? Cause I pick up after you?"

Angel laughed at the notion of him as a messy housekeeper. He and Cordelia had gone round several times about his neat-freakiness, the result of times she'd stayed over. "No," he said, "that's really got nothing to do with it."

To see you when I wake up, is a gift I didn't think could be real
To know that you feel the same, as I do, is a threefold utopian dream

"Then...?" She looked expectantly at him, then colored slightly when she interpreted the level gaze he was giving her. "That would be a good reason," she said quietly.

"Is it a good enough one?" He dropped his eyes, focusing on the hem of her top, idly plucking at it. He couldn't make her any promises, couldn't give her any guarantees, but he could and did let her know how he felt, hoping it would be enough to make her want to stay.

"Cool," she said, rising. "One less thing I have to deal with. Be right back..." She headed upstairs.

He wasn't sure whether to be happy about her answer or frustrated because she did not actually answer his question. He chose frustrated, because he was already feeling surly that her flight out was a morning flight and he wouldn't even be able to see her off. Disgruntled, he rose from the couch and climbed into the bed in his mercifully dark room, planning to sleep the rest of the day.

He drifted slowly out of a light doze to feel a gentle touch on his hair. "Everything okay?" He didn't need to open his eyes to know it was Rhy, but he did anyway, just to look at her.

"You tell me, Disappearing Act Guy." She stroked his hair, eyes following her hand as she avoided his gaze.

"Oh. Sorry...I was just..." He wasn't sure how to phrase it. *You don't have any claim on her,* he reminded himself.

"I know," she answered quietly, palm cupping his cheek lightly. She met his eyes at last and was startled by the feelings she saw there. "Okay, you're got the tormented look on again, what's up?"

He sighed. "I just want to make sure you'll be safe." They both knew that wasn't it at all.

"Not purchasing," she said, giving him a look.

"You're going to make me say this, aren't you?"

"I was thinking about it. Your personal space and comfort notwithstanding."

He smiled at that. She was always ready with a quip, even at the most serious times. "I don't have the right to say anything."

"I gave it to you when I asked, goof."

You do something to me
That I can't explain
So would I be out of line, If I said
I miss you.

He sighed again, closing his eyes. "I'm not supposed to have certain feelings."

"And?"

"And I have them."

"What sort of feelings are those?"

"The ones that hope you're not going home with anyone in particular you have to say goodbye to in certain ways..." he hedged.

"There is someone I don't particularly want to have to say goodbye to." When she said that, he opened his eyes, disappointment evident in his expression.

"But I'll see him again in about a week, I just hope he forgives me for having to heat his own dinner while I'm gone." Dropping a kiss on his cheek, she popped back out of the room, leaving a very relieved Angel to his sleep.

He couldn't sleep on the morning of her departure. He didn't want to spoil her evident pleasure at going home, however, so he faked it, wishing with all his being that he could wrap his arms around her and keep her when he felt her press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth before she left.

"Please be careful, beauty," she whispered softly to him, smoothing his hair back, trying to memorize his face.

*I will,* he wanted to say as he remained still, listening as she departed. Growling, he rolled over after she was gone, already missing her.

I see your picture, I smell your skin on, the empty pillow next to mine
You have only been gone ten days, but already I am wasting away

"You okay?" Cordelia stuck her head in the door to check on him.

"Well, I would tell you I'll live, but..." he responded dryly, not moving. He felt her weight settle onto the edge of the bed and she rubbed his back affectionately.

"She'll be back," she said, ruffling his hair.

"I know," he replied testily.

"Angel, everybody within a five mile radius knows how you feel about her, okay? You can't hide that stuff from us."

Angel sighed heavily. "Do you think she knows?"

"What, that you're silly over her? Probably. Are you going to tell her?"

"No! You know I can't do that."

"Maybe you ought to think about that," Cordy said. "I'm going back upstairs. Don't you dare brood!"

Angel fell into a thin sleep and it was dark out when he opened his eyes.

"Leaving!" resounded down the stairs as Cordy and Wes prepared to depart.

"Okay!" he shouted back. "See you tomorrow!"

I know I'll see you again
Whether far or soon

"I should get up," he muttered, not wanting to move at all. He cursed when the phone rang, rolling over onto his stomach and grabbing it off the nightstand.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

Her voice gave him chills, which was quite an accomplishment. "Hey, you make it in okay?"

"Yeah, I'm here." Something in her voice sounded off. She sounded...sad.

"Rhy, is everything okay?"

"I miss you," she said. "Silly, huh?"

"Not at all," he responded, his still heart going out to her. "I miss you too. I started when you shut the door behind you."

But I need you to know, that I care
And I miss you

"Oh." He could hear the smile in her voice. Then she sighed. "I don't want to keep you...I know you have to patrol..."

"You can keep me," he interrupted softly. "I just woke up a little while ago anyway."

"Oh." Again her voice was tiny. She was picturing him in bed... "Interesting visual."

"Well, it's not the same when I don't have to fight with a midget redhead over it," he teased her.

"Hey!" He grinned at successfully riling her. "Be nice to me."

"Always." He smiled, thinking about just how nice he'd like to be.

"Wouldn't say that," she commented, earning a protest from him. He heard voices in the background and she said, "I gotta jet...I'll wrap this up as soon as I can."

"Okay. Come home soon," he said, wishing he could say what he really felt.

"I will..."

He was on patrol when Rhysa returned to L.A.; Cordelia had had a vision and there was no way he could get out of it. She'd driven back in her Amigo, though, so she didn't need a ride or anything. He knew the second he walked in that she was back; he could smell the jasmine and rain mixed with her own unique scent.

"Hey. No, don't do that!" He dodged her attempted hug because he had demon ick on his clothes.

"Hurry up!" She grinned at him, bouncing impatiently.

"Okay, okay." He immediately stripped off his shirt, smiling when she hurriedly picked it up.

"You want otherworldly stains on the carpet?" she chided him, following him into the bathroom and dropping the offending shirt into the hamper with the pants he'd just shed. He'd grown so accustomed to her being there that he wasn't even self conscious around her anymore. That resulted from a few times when he'd been in such bad shape that she and Cordy and Wesley had had to undress him and patch him up.

"At least this one made it home in one piece," he said, turning to hug her hello. "I missed you," he whispered into her hair, clutching her tightly to his larger frame.

"I missed you," she replied, palms skimming over the cool skin of his back. "So much...but you know what?"

"Hmm?" He pressed a soft kiss against her temple.

"I didn't miss eau du demon. Get a shower." She tickled his sides, laughing when he jumped away.

"Yes ma'am," he responded, fingers on the waistband of his boxers. "You want a show or what?" He eased them down enough to reveal his hipbones, laughing when she hastily exited and slammed the door. He showered, thinking about her and how he felt, debating whether he should ask the Oracles what to do about this. It still bothered him that he'd been unable to decipher their meaning, "permitted"...to what?

Exiting the bath, he followed his usual routine and then padded into the den, barefoot and bare chested, joining her on the couch, sprawling in the corner. She was lying on the other end and he had to pick her feet up to sit, then he placed them back in his lap, idly massaging the soles with his thumbs. He thought she had cute little feet, plus he loved the soft purr of appreciation it always earned him. A wicked smile crossed his face and he lifted a tiny foot, bending and tracing the arch with his tongue. With a muffled squeak she snatched her feet away and replaced them in his lap with a pillow and her head, plunking down with more force than was strictly necessary. Laughing, he draped his arm around her, palm cupping the curve of her hip. She gave a sniff of mock indignation but didn't look up at him, and he saw her smile.

Roughly halfway through the second movie, Angel noticed that scooting around had made her white tank top ride up, and his eyes were drawn again and again to the expanse of bare flesh. The soft gleam of a silvery ring in her navel made him start thinking all over again about biting her. He ventured a glance at her face and saw that her eyes were closed, emboldening him although he knew she was not sleeping. He lifted a dark curl, twining the silky lock around his finger, then smoothed it against the paleness of her shoulder, enjoying the visual contrast. Her lips curved in a smile and she briefly blinked one eye open to lazily regard him before closing it again.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking."

"At?"

"You." He smiled, lifting a handful of waves and letting them rain over his bare chest. He very much liked the way it looked. She smiled back as she made a face at him.

"Why?"

"You're very pretty," he commented, gazing studiously at her belly button, itching to touch her skin.

"Pretty easy to look at yourself, Angel."

He liked the way it felt when she said his name like that. Reaching out, he trailed cool fingertips delicately over her belly, unable to resist any longer. *You're living dangerously,* his mind said, but at this point he didn't care. He was attracted to her and didn't think just touching her stomach was going to endanger his soul. He wasn't planning on taking her to bed; after all, he couldn't risk it.

"Tickle?" he asked when her muscles quivered under his light touch.

"A little," she answered, opening her eyes and watching his fingers move over her skin. She tipped her head back and her gaze shifted to his face, observing his concentration as he caressed her.

"What are you thinking about?"

Her question took him by surprise. He wasn't used to being asked that. "Truth?"

She chuckled. "Angel's Path up Redemption Mountain has turnarounds for fibbing?"

"Ha ha." He tugged her belly ring very lightly, then resumed his soft caress.

"I'm really comfortable with you," he admitted. "I'm not usually comfortable with anyone I haven't known for a long time. That's kind of a dangerous combination for me..."

"I know." She covered his hand briefly with hers, understanding the need to keep Angelus at bay. "I didn't expect you to be quite like this."

"This?"

"Well, snuggly. If someone had told me I would ever meet a snuggly vampire, I'd have thought they were on crack! New Orleans vampires are NOT snuggly."

"Snuggly?" His hand stilled and he blinked, not too sure about that one.

"Okay, comfortable. Better?"

"Makes me sound like an armchair." His fingers continued their tentative gliding motion over the gentle rise of her belly.

"I know armchairs and you are definitely not an armchair." She grinned, eyes sparkling devilishly. "Maybe a nice black leather recliner, the kind that vibrate and have heat."

He chuckled at her imagery. "I doubt that I vibrate, and I don't have heat."

"Tsk tsk, no imagination. You have heat, it's just inside you." Her sentiment indeed made him feel warm.

"What's it like to be bitten? Does it hurt?"

His eyebrows rose at the sudden question and he decided to answer it with one of his own. "How do you give blood with these tiny veins in your elbows?"

"Are you casting aspersions upon my veins?" She cocked an eyebrow teasingly at him.

"You have beautiful veins," he contradicted her.

"How does one have 'beautiful' veins?" She looked amused.

"I can almost see your blood moving, your skin is so translucent where they're visible...I can sense it. Of course, I can hear your pulse, so that kind of adds to it..." He trailed off, not wanting to let slip how that affected him.

"Just not in the bend of my elbows."

Angel laughed softly. "Not there."

"Where?"

He studied her, dark eyes serious. "Here." He gently touched the hollow of her throat where her pulse beat. He was aware of the elevation in her heart rate and his keener senses detected the faintest scent of arousal from her, triggering a warmth spiraling upward from his groin.

"And here." He drew a finger lightly down her inner arm. "There are nice ones on the back of your neck and shoulder but I can't reach them."

"Been looking, have you?" She arched a brow at him.

"Yes," he returned, admitting in that one word how much he wanted.

She said nothing, but felt as though her bones had turned to liquid. Angel noticed the change in her breathing and arousal level and repressed a smile. If only she knew that he felt the same way...

"Here." He traced a vein over the surface of her belly. "And here..." His fingers brushed her inner thigh, which was as far as he could reach in their present position. "There are more."

"How do you, I mean, what's it like..." She struggled to sit up, facing him, studying him intently. "Can I see your fangs?"

"I feel like a sideshow." He rolled his eyes playfully, opening his mouth and extending his fangs. She gingerly touched one, examining him carefully.

"Neat," she pronounced them.

"Neat?" He retracted them, looking wounded.

"Okay, scary and horrible. Better?"

"Much." Her curiosity amused him, but it was interesting. No one had ever evinced such an interest in the details of his physiology like this.

"Well, you were bitten...does it hurt?"

"It would if a gang attacked you...it depends on what's happening. As part of..." He cleared his throat nervously. "As part of seduction it wouldn't unless you wanted it to." If a vampire could blush he would have, but she blushed enough for both of them.

Their eyes locked and he lifted her arm, stroking the bend of her elbow with gentle fingers. "You didn't answer my question," he commented, gaze never releasing hers.

"What question?" Her voice was faint.

"How do you give blood?"

"Oh, that question. Um, they tourniquet off your upper arm and make you squeeze your fist and the vein pops up. Usually takes them two or three tries and I end up with a huge bruise."

He bent his head, bringing his mouth to her skin, not quite touching. "I can sense them," he commented offhandedly, intent gaze turning to regard her skin.

"Can you now." Her breathing was becoming erratic, he noticed.

"Uh huh..." His tongue flickered across her skin, followed by a soft breath. She thought it was quite possibly the most sensual thing she'd ever seen.

"Angel..."

"Hmm?" He nuzzled her skin softly with his lips, letting her feel the light brush of his fangs. "I can sense lots of things," he continued, knowing Miss Curiosity would have to ask.

"Like what?" she countered weakly, gaze riveted on what he was doing with his mouth.

"Your heart's going like crazy...your pulse is pounding in your ears...body temperature up...you're pouring arousal pheromones..."

"Now that's not fair," she protested. "I don't get to know what you're feeling."

"Yes you do," he corrected her, pricking her skin lightly with a fang.

"And how's that?"

"The same as you," he whispered before sinking needle-sharp fangs into her, unerringly finding the vein medical science never could. He only drew a tiny sip from her, relishing the sweetness and the ecstatic look on her face.

"You're incredible," he breathed, licking gently at the wound until it ceased to bleed. Her expression was wondering as he turned his attention to her neck, nuzzling kisses into the hollow of her throat, then up the side of her neck, loving the heat of her skin under his lips.

"Where?" he demanded softly, pushing her hair back.

"Anywhere...oh, Angel..." She clutched at him as he bit into her neck, this time taking a whole swallow. Again he administered to the bleeding as he withdrew, swirling his tongue over the tiny punctures, catching every last drop of her blood that he could.

"Oh God no..." she managed to say as he planted butterfly kisses across her shoulder, preparing the base of her neck.

"No?" He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he'd scared her.

"If you do that one more time, I'm going to..." she left the sentence unfinished but he knew exactly what she meant.

"So will I," he returned, hauling her into his lap with her legs around his waist. "You do this to me..." He urged her body close, pressing intimately against her. In for a penny, in for a pound, he figured. He'd already gotten way more involved than he should have, but he wanted this so badly...

"Let me," he pleaded, mouth hovering mere breaths from hers. "I missed you so much...let me give this to you."

"Okay..." The word barely left her before he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her possessively, holding her hips and grinding his sex against hers, determined to give this pleasure to her.

"Angel...oh..." She cried his name softly, her body shuddering as he bit into her shoulder and she came instantly.

"Yes...oh yes..." With one last thrust against her, he finished, glad he didn't need to breathe. She lay heavily against him, held up only by his arms, panting softly as he lapped gently at her shoulder wound.

"Angel." Her voice was soft, but then she repeated his name a little more loudly. His eyes opened and he realized he was lying on the couch with her, holding her tightly. He'd fallen asleep, and he didn't know how much of what had just happened had been a dream.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry, Rhy...did I hurt you?" He relaxed his hold a little, glad that she wasn't trying to get up. She felt wonderful in his arms.

"No. You wouldn't do that," she said, propping on her elbow and gazing steadily at him.

"I must have dozed off...did I..."

"Yes." She angled her neck, exposing the tiny bite mark.

"Oh." He looked embarrassed. "How many times?"

"Just once, not counting the elbow. We were talking about your fangs and my veins and you started doing this really sexy thing with your mouth and my elbow..." Her cheeks grew a little flushed as she talked about it.

"Not counting the elbow? What exactly did I do?"

"Well, you bit the inside of my elbow--no, don't look like that, you didn't hurt me. You wanted to and I wanted you to. And you didn't hurt me. You made it stop bleeding and then you held me. I guess we dozed off then and you started dreaming." She reached out with her free hand and smoothed his rumpled hair back, then settled her palm on his bare shoulder, thumb softly caressing his skin.

"Why did I bite you?"

"How am I supposed to know why you bite people? I looked like a Little Debbie Swiss Roll? I don't know. You pressed me up against you and you were all nice and perky and you kissed my throat and then you bit me-"

"Perky?" he broke in.

"Well, you know..." She shifted lightly against his lower body, which was still very much awake. "Perky. Happy. Friendly."

He laughed softly, unable to help himself. "Okay...I usually call that aroused, but we'll use perky." He sobered then, still as her hand left his shoulder and traced his collarbone, then traveled across his upper chest.

"I'm sorry," he said then.

"For?"

He stared at her, wide-eyed. She wasn't angry.

"Angel, you don't need to apologize. No harm done."

He was momentarily distracted by her fingers moving inquisitively over his breastbone. "Do you still feel things like you did before you were turned?" came out of left field. He was amused when he saw that she'd slipped back into 20 Questions mode.

"Feel with my heart or feel with my body?" He knew what she meant but wanted her to say it.

"With your body. I know you must with your heart, having your soul back and all." Her eyes followed the path of her fingers over his satiny skin.

"Mostly."

She waited a moment, then said with some asperity, "Don't elaborate or anything, you're boring me with the details."

"Sorry." His grin told her that he was not sorry at all, that he was enjoying baiting her. "Temperatures aren't the same but touch is--ohh--" He stopped mid sentence when she stroked a fingertip across his nipple, watching it peak in response.

"Like that," he finished weakly. "Don't do that to me."

"You bit me...you owe me," she teased.

"I dreamed that I bit you several times and we got off together...what do I owe you for that?" He couldn't believe the words as soon as they left his mouth.

"I'll think of something," she answered merrily, digging her fingers into his bare sides.

"Stop that. Vampires aren't supposed to be ticklish." He squirmed, trying to get away from the tickling fingers, but the friction of their bodies only succeeded in further waking his libido. With a thump, he rolled off the couch and onto the floor, bringing her down on top of him, firmly in contact with his eager body.

She remained still for a moment, then raised her head and looked at him as he blew vainly, trying to get her hair off of his face. Taking pity on him, she reached down and swept it off, then folded her hands on his chest and pillowed her head on them. He stared at the crown of her head, wondering what she was thinking. Her respiration and heart rate spoke of relaxation but arousal was still heavy in her aura.

"Angel?"

"Uh huh?" He ran his hands lightly over her back, tracing the shape of her torso.

"What's going on here...with us?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted.

She raised her head and fixed him with disconcertingly direct silvery-green eyes, waiting for him to continue.

"I want this...with you...I'm afraid if I even kiss you that I'll need it, and you know why I can't..."

"I know." Understanding was in her eyes and he was again amazed by the courage of this woman. "Take me to bed, Angel."

"What?" He gaped uncomprehendingly at her.

"To sleep, silly. Just sleep. Unless you want to spend the night on the floor?" She giggled when he lifted her off of him and carried her into the bedroom, sliding her in and climbing in beside her..

"What if I bite you again in my sleep?" He hung back until she reached for him, scooting her back firmly against his chest, at which he closed his arms securely around her.

"Then I'll lace your blood with Tabasco."

"Thank you, Rhy," he murmured softly, feathering a soft kiss behind her ear and another onto her neck.

"For threatening the sanctity of your beverage of choice?"

"Understanding. Accepting."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm Wonder Woman, go to sleep." Her hands slipping into his and squeezing them belied her gruff tone.

In spite of what he knew he should do, he couldn't stay away from her. Their nighttime ritual continued, usually culminating with her falling asleep in his arms or in his lap, and sometimes they fell asleep together. They shared the bed almost every night, the awkwardness gone. He never stopped wanting to touch her, to taste her, and she knew it. And he knew that she felt the same way about him. A thousand little exchanges bound them in the timeless dance of courtship: his hand lightly braced on her as he read something over her shoulder; her shoulder and thigh touching his as she sat next to him and identified sketches; ankles nestling together under the table when they had dinner with Wesley and Cordy...who could see the building attraction plain as day.

"Hey."

The gentle hand on his shoulder didn't precisely startle Angel, but he wasn't used to tactile people, not that he minded with Rhy. His temperature being cooler was probably just one of the factors that kept people from including him in their warm-fuzzies. Cordelia hugged him from time to time when she had good news, but until Rhysa came along, that was about it. He had not realized how much he'd missed simple human contact; after all, as Rhy liked to point out to him when he was being particularly maudlin, his soul was very much human.

"Hey yourself." He lifted his head to look at her, just brushing her wrist with his cheek as he did so.

"Shave much?" She rubbed his cheek lightly, grinning.

"Not usually before I go to bed...are you here to discuss the inadequacies of my razor or did you actually need something?" His smile took the sting out of his words and she made a face at him.

"I need book 6 out of this series." She proferred a volume, frowning thoughtfully. "Hiding it anywhere?"

"Um." He took it from her, scanning the title. "Let me see..." His voice trailed off as he walked into the informal library.

"Would I have come in here before looking there first?" she muttered to herself, knowing full well he could hear her.

"It isn't in here..." He reappeared in the office.

"Ya think?" She raised a brow at him, rolling her eyes. "I-"

"Stop that." He touched her lips with a finger, possibly a mistake, because the intimate contact brought an unmistakable gleam to her expressive eyes.

She pulled her head back. "You first," she said, referring to the subtext rather than the obvious.

"Can't help you there." He shook his head, expression daring her. They'd become skilled partners as they danced around each other in this flirting game. "I'll find it for you somewhere."

"Okay. I'll find something else to start on in the meantime." She disappeared into the library room, and only when she was out of sight did he allow the broad grin he'd been suppressing to creep across his face. The girl was so sharp sometimes he thought she might stake him with mere words.

He heard a dual-toned squeak, one human and one mechanical, and waited a second. Yep, he was right--

"Angel!"

"Uh huh?" He poked his head around the door, smiling slightly at the sight of her glaring balefully at a chair. She turned the glare on him.

"Lose the smile."

He struggled to obey but was unable and she burst into laughter. "Help me with this?"

Angel stepped forward, expecting to have to get something off a top shelf for her, but she said, "Hold this chair still, would you?"

"You're going to break your neck," he said, doing as she asked anyway, knowing arguing with her was about as effective as arguing with Cordy. "I'll have to turn you to keep you around and then you'll be all crooked."

"Don't make me laugh!" She paused as she was climbing into the chair, catching her breath before stepping up.

"I could get that for you," he noted dryly, giving the chair a gentle shake.

"Angel!" She squealed, clutching the shelf for dear life.

"Okay, I'll behave." He braced the chair to keep it from moving and eyed the rear end and upper thigh he was now presented with. She was wearing army-green shorts and they looked nice with her skin and hair. His attention was drawn to a tiny chocolate-colored beauty mark on the back of her leg, just above the bend of her knee. He wondered how it tasted and found himself leaning forward...

*Don't do this to yourself,* his mind warned him, but he was selectively deaf to it when he was around Rhysa.

She was reaching for a particularly old and dusty volume when she felt the gentlest of touches on the back of her thigh. She froze, knowing it was Angel but not knowing what he was doing. He curled one hand around her knee, holding her steady.

"Angel?" She twisted slightly and looked down at him over her shoulder. He touched her skin softly with his mouth, delicately flicking the beauty mark with his tongue, then looking up at her, dark eyes molten.

"Rhysa?" He returned her query, placing another light kiss on her warm skin before releasing her.

"What was that for?" Feeling incredibly shaky, she turned her attention back to the books.

"For you. No, that's not true, it was really for me."

"Cute." She jumped off the chair, book in hand, landing heavily next to him. "Real cute."

"Even unshaven?" He ran his hand over his jaw, eyes twinkling playfully.

*THUMP*

It was amazing, he reflected as he found himself suddenly seated in the chair, how a tiny little hand belonging to a tiny little girl could catch him so off guard. Her reflexes would have made her a great Slayer.

"I wasn't talking about you," she said, placing her hands on the chair arms and leaning over almost nose to nose with him. Looking down at him, she planted a knee on the edge of the chair seat, perilously close to his crotch.

"Then what were you talking about?" He tilted his head back, smiling up at her through the fall of her hair, lifting a russet curl out of his face and twining it around a finger.

"Your incredibly smart-ass attitude," she commented, studying his face intently.

"My ass?" He actually grinned, releasing the curl with a *sproing* and catching another. He was feeling uncharacteristically playful.

She rolled her eyes. "Not your ass."

"You don't like it?"

"What is it with vampires and taking things out of context?"

Angel wrapped the curl tighter, drawing her closer. "You didn't answer the question." Her hand covered his, gently unfastening his fingers, and he closed his eyes as he felt her warm breath on his lips.

"Two words." Her voice was dulcet and his stomach muscles clenched as he waited to feel her mouth on his; he was sure she was going to kiss him, and reservations aside, he wasn't going to stop her.

"Leather pants." She drew away abruptly, snatching the book off the desk and vanishing into the main office. He launched himself from the chair and followed her, but stopped short at the edge of the sunlight coming in the window. She stood in the patch of light, grinning cheerfully at him.

"Come back here," he threatened playfully.

"Nope!" she sang, shaking her head.

"Please?" He tried to look innocent but failed miserably.

"Nuh uh, bad boy. I know your type."

"Who's gonna tuck me in when I go to bed?"

"Well if you had sleeping patterns like the rest of us..."

"Come out or I'm coming in," he joked, and her eyes widened.

*THWAP*

His back was against the doorway and there was a lithe sun-warmed body pressed against his.

"Don't you DARE joke about that, Angel. Ever." She was dead serious, staring up at him. He could see and feel her terror and wrapped his arms around her, comforting her.

"I was just kidding," he reassured her softly, face pressed against her hair, enjoying her scent and her warmth.

"I know THAT," she replied sharply, "but I wish you wouldn't, not about that."

"I'm sorry...but if you know I'm just kidding what's the big deal?" He raised his head and looked at her.

She frowned at him. "Don't you know?"

He stared at her, reading her expression, which was completely unguarded in that moment. "Yeah," he nodded, pulling her close again, "I do. I'm sorry."

"Okay." She turned her face up, planting a gentle kiss on the point of his jaw, under his ear. A shiver raced down his spine and he growled, very softly.

"You're growling at me." The brush of her lips against his skin made him want to scoop her up and carry her downstairs with him.

"Uh huh..."

"What's that for?"

His knees grew weak when she flicked his skin delicately with her tongue. "You know what it's for."

"Aren't you supposed to be asleep by now?" She blew lightly across the moist spot, cooling it.

"I'm going to sleep after this?"

"This?" Teeth nipped gently at his neck and that proved to be his undoing. He tangled his fingers in her hair, carefully forcing her head back, then cupping her face in his hands.

"This." He opened his mouth against the base of her neck, trailing kisses slowly upward over her throat.

"This," he continued, nipping lightly at her warm skin, careful to keep his fangs retracted.

"And this..." He smoothed a hand down the curve of her spine, urging her hips against his.

"We probably shouldn't do this," she pointed out, making no moves away from him.

"I know." He nuzzled her throat softly, wanting very badly to kiss her. "So stop me."

She laughed. "You really think I could do that?"

"You'd have to convince me you meant it first." He raised his head reluctantly, smiling into her lovely green eyes. "And remember, your vitals may or may not back you up."

"You're such a pain," she teased, cradling his cheek gently in her hand. Whatever he might have responded with was interrupted by voices outside: Cordelia and Wesley coming in.

"I am, I know. I'm going downstairs...try to catch some sleep." Making a quick decision, he brushed a butterfly kiss onto her lips, pausing to speak to Cordy and Wesley briefly as they came in the door.

"You look flushed, are you getting sick?" Cordelia raised a brow at Rhysa as she came through the front door.

"No, I'm fine. I was just...looking for some books. Still working on the major demons." She excused herself and went outside. The day was gorgeous and she wanted to sit in the sun and veg for a bit. All the demonology tended to get a bit heavy after a while and she wanted a break. That and she wanted a chance to think about Angel and what was...and wasn't...happening. She was relatively content with the game they were playing; where it went was dependent largely on what TPTB chose for him, and if personal happiness wasn't part of that, then there was nothing that could be done about it.

Still and all, she wished...she wasn't able to concentrate on the book at all, thinking about the brief touch of his lips on hers. She sat in the sunlight, eyes closed as she felt the breeze, trying to calm her furiously working mind.

Angel glanced at her on his way to the stairs...she looked beautiful sitting there, hair shining coppery in the light. He wished that he could join her, that he could feel sunlight on his skin, and it saddened him that he wasn't able. Sensing him, she opened her eyes and looked back at him, smiling happily. She looked at her watch and tapped it playfully, making a shooing motion at him with her hands. Smiling at her silliness, he made his way downstairs to bed.

He hadn't been up all that long when Rhy barricaded herself in the bathroom, saying something about "getting ready" but he was still half asleep and didn't catch most of it. He fed and flopped on the couch, idly flipping channels, beginning to wonder what in the world was taking her so long. He kind of missed her when she wasn't playing couch potato with him.

Angel just stared when Rhy finally walked into the den...she looked incredible. She was wearing a tiny silver skirt and a navy tank top with tall black boots that laced up the front. Her hair was loose and spilled down her back in waves.

"Hey," he said, standing up, and she turned to look questioningly at him. His eyes dropped immediately to her chest, reading pink letters on her tank top: 'Boys are great.' He couldn't read the second line because it curved too much over her breasts, so he reached out and lightly grasped the sides of the shirt, holding it out so he could read it: 'Every girl should have one.'

"Cute," he said as he released her shirt, examining her face and smiling inwardly at the pink shadow on her eyelids and silver glitter dusting her skin. Her lips were lined with a deep burgundy shading to pink in the center and he wanted very badly to taste them. He thought that she looked adorable. "Do you?"

"Do I what..." She was distracted, apparently looking for something. She disappeared into the bedroom, rummaging in one of her bags, then emerged looking triumphant.

"Will you help me with this?" A slender arm presented itself in front of him, her other hand holding out a bracelet. Angel wordlessly took it, cool fingers gentle on her skin as he fastened it, dark eyes never leaving hers.

"Do you?" he repeated, more interested in her answer that he would care to admit.

"Do I what?"

"Have one." He indicated the line on her tank top. She paused, caught in his intense gaze.

"Do I?" She winked saucily as he slowly released her, his fingers pressing lightly on her pulse point.

"Do you want one?"

She knew exactly what he was thinking. "No comment, and stop with that look," she said, smiling as she tried to change the subject.

"What look?" He leaned in just a little, focusing on the hollow of her throat.

"That one...hey, stop that! You're going to get glitter on yourself." She backed away just a little, laughing at him.

"Glitter-covered Angel? Perfect. We'll stick him on top of a Christmas tree." Cordelia's voice came from the stairs and she swept into the room, resplendent in a microscopic emerald dress and wicked heels.

"Where are you two going?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes at Angel's protective stance. "Out," was all she said.

"I gathered that. Out where?"

"Dancing, Brood Boy. Geez." Cordelia and Rhysa shared a look.

"Alone?"

"Um, we're going with each other. Wesley is supposed to meet us there. Lay off already!" Cordelia tapped her foot impatiently.

"I'll go," Angel said. Cordelia gaped at him. Mister-Never-Go-To-A-Club, volunteering?

"I don't think this is exactly safe," he added, forcing his gaze away from Cordelia's. She knew exactly why he was doing this.

"Not in that you don't," she said. "Go change." To her absolute shock, he did, without complaint. He emerged from his bedroom looking devastating in black leather pants and a burgundy silk shirt.

"Better?" He gave Cordy a withering glare.

"Yes, perfect, okay, fine. Can we go?" Cordelia hung back just a little, long enough to hiss into his ear, "I know what you're doing."

"She doesn't know how to fight," he returned, just as testily.

"You don't think we can protect her?" Cordelia arched a perfectly sculpted brow at him, indignant. At his pained expression, understanding dawned on her face. "You still haven't said anything?"

"No," he said tersely, his tone of voice conveying his pain over not being able to act on his feelings.

"Go back to the Oracles," she suggested as they reached his car.

"Oracles for what?" Rhy waited as Angel put the top up, then opened the passenger door. "You want shotgun?" she asked Cordelia. "Your dress is a little more, well...than mine." They laughed and Angel rolled his eyes as Cordelia climbed into the seat beside his.

"You both look 'well', he said dryly.

"Thanks, I think." Rhysa's voice was soft in his ear and he felt the brush of her fingers against his neck as she curled them around the seat's headrest. He turned his head and found himself lost in her grey-green eyes.

"Especially you," he added in an undertone, pulling his gaze away and starting the car Cordelia started fiddling with the radio, ignoring his halfhearted protests. He was extremely aware of the proximity of Rhysa's fingers and stifled a soft groan when she toyed with the silky hairs on the nape of his neck.

"So what was that about the Oracles?" she asked Cordelia, leaning forward between the seats.

"Well, no one has a clue what Their Crypticnesses meant about you being permitted, so Angel wants to see if he can get more information out of them."

"What exactly did they say?" She looked at Angel's profile and he flicked her a sideways glance.

"That you were my focal point and because of that you were permitted." He glanced at her again.

"Permitted to what? Geez." She made a rude noise and Angel chuckled.

"That's kind of what he said," Cordelia pointed out, "only not so eloquently."

Angel had barely pulled into the parking lot before the girls virtually sprang from the car, energized by the music they heard pumping from the club.

"Come on!" They grabbed his sleeves and dragged him in, looking around before spotting Wesley with a table staked out upstairs. Abandoning Angel's sleeves, they dashed up to join him. Angel followed more slowly, eyeing the display of legs thoughtfully. The back of Rhysa's knees was very distracting...remembering the taste of her skin, he thought about biting her there...maybe higher...

*Stop it!* With a shake of his head, he snapped back to reality. He hated clubs but he wanted to make sure his girls were safe, and he'd wanted to spend time with Rhysa outside research and lessons, since he couldn't exactly ask her on a traditional date.

"You'll be up more than me," he said to her, sliding into the seat closest to the wall to let her have the outside seat. She perched on the chair in front of him, smiling at him before presenting him with her back so she could scan the club. He didn't mind...her chair was right against his so he would have been breathing down the back of her neck, had he needed to breathe. She and Cordelia proceeded to dissect the outfits and appearance of many passers-by, laughing a lot. Angel made a face at Wesley, who grimaced sympathetically. He occupied himself by lifting one of her curls, twining it around his finger as he watched her.

When the waitress came around, the men ordered just a beer, but Rhysa and Cordelia conferred and decided on a drink. Rhy ordered a 7 & 7 and Angel got distracted imagining what kissing her would taste like after she drank it...the whisky smooth on her tongue as his caressed hers...

"What are you doing?" Her low voice caught his attention and he found himself the focus of her pale gaze.

"Nothing." He offered her a small smile, tugging gently on the strand of hair in his fingers.

She arched a brow at him. "Okay." Her eyes dropped to the opened top buttons of his shirt and she colored slightly, and he knew what she was thinking. He'd thought about it a lot himself.

"Angel!" Cordy's voice broke into his thoughts.

"What?" He snuck a guilty glance at Rhy but she had turned back to watch the dance floor.

"No brooding." Cordy beamed at him.

"Okay, I'll try." He gave her a half smile that wavered when Rhy hopped up.

"Dance?" She looked expectantly at him and he shook his head regretfully.

"I don't dance," he said.

"Okay," She made a face at him, sticking out her tongue before turning with an insouciant flip of her hair and descending the stairs, Cordy at her heels, Wesley right behind them. Smiling, he slid forward into her vacated chair so he could watch them on the floor. They stayed down there for 3 or 4 songs and he brooded, breaking his promise to Cordy, figuring it was okay since she was not watching. He had racked his brain over the words of the Oracles and still could not figure it out.

The object of his thoughts came bouncing back up the stairs to the Violent Femmes, singing along, smiling at him as she caught him brooding.

Day after day
I will walk and I will play

"Caught you," she said, standing between his parted legs, hands on his leather-clad knees.

but the day after today
I will stop
and I will start my way

"Caught me?" He tucked her hair behind her ear, touching her flushed face with a cool hand.

"Caught me what?"

why can't I get just one kiss
why can't I get just one kiss
believe me there'd be somethings that I wouldn't miss
but I look at your pants and I need I need a kiss

"Brooding. You promised Cordy." She leaned into his touch and he could feel the pulse in her temple fluttering madly, not entirely from the dancing. His keen senses picked up the mingled scents of her perfume, her body and her light sweat, and a wave of longing washed through him, making him glad he was sitting down.

"I know." He released her as she bounced in place to the music, singing. If he could have blushed he would have over the lyrics.

why can't I get just one screw
why can't I get just one screw
believe me I know what to do
but something won't let me make love to you

"Are you serenading me?" he joked, taking a sip of his beer and placing it back on the table.

"There's an idea." She grinned, sliding her hands up to his thighs, leaning against him, body pressed against his.

why can't I get just one fuck
why can't I get just one fuck
I guess it's something to do with luck

"Would it work?" Her breath tickled his earlobe, making him shiver.

"Depends on what you're trying to do." He turned his head, reciprocating the soft breath.

"What should I be trying to do, Angel?" she countered, lips delicately brushing his skin, bringing a soft groan from his throat.

but I waited my whole life for just one
day afterday

"If you're trying to drive me crazy, it's working," he said, hands closing over her hips.

I get angry
and I will say
that the day
is in my sight
when i'll take a bow
and say goodnight

She pouted when he gently pushed her away from him, but she knew why he was doing it and she understood.

"I want to." He framed her face in his hands, drinking in the sight of her. "I want to, so much..."

"You do?" She looked extremely happy at that admission.

"Oh, God, Rhy, you have to know I do." He touched her lips lightly with a fingertip, wishing. He drew back reluctantly as Wesley and Cordy came back to the table, and he slid back into his own chair.

"Was he brooding again?" Cordy demanded playfully.

"He tried," Rhysa eased back into her chair, her back periodically brushing against Angel's chest.

"Good thing you stopped him." Cordelia winked at Rhy, who shot Angel a glance and grinned.

"Yeah, good thing," she echoed softly, but his vampiric hearing picked it up clearly.

"You want me," he murmured softly into her ear, leaning forward so that his cheek almost touched hers. Her breath caught in her throat and then she recovered, letting it out slowly.

"Yes," she answered, tingling from his nearness.

"I can hear your heartbeat...it's fast...your breathing is fast too...I can smell your arousal..." He allowed his lips to brush her skin as he said this and he felt her shiver.

"Now that's not fair," she said shakily.

"What's that?" He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, keeping his attention fully on her.

"That you can know all those things like that and I don't get that kind of advantage." He answered her by scooting forward in his chair, nestling an impressive erection firmly against her backside.

"Does that tell you anything?" She felt the light pinch of fangs as he nibbled her earlobe, on the side where Wesley and Cordy couldn't see.

"Um...yeah, I think it does." Her breathing was labored and she struggled to keep her hands still...she wanted to run them over his strong thighs.

"You think?" Another light nibble, this time on her neck, right behind her ear. "I want you to know."

"To know?" Her hand stole to his leg at last, tracing the contour of his thigh.

"To know how your blood calls to me...I want to taste it...to taste you..." He bit her a little harder, though not enough to break her skin.

"Angel..." He never got to find out what she was going to say because Cordelia rather deliberately broke the moment, kicking him under the table.

"No vampire hickeys on the employees, k? Even if she is your girlie...fraternization and all that." Angel glared at her and she smiled innocently. He knew she was trying to keep his best interests in mind, because she'd met Angelus and hadn't been too thrilled with him, but he was still irritated by the interruption.

"Let's dance." Cordelia grabbed Rhy's hand and dragged her to the dance floor, leaving one bemused Hunter and one overheated Souled Vampire.

You saw me standing by the wall, corner of a main street
And the lights are flashing on your window sill
All alone ain't much fun so you're looking for the thrill
And you know just what it takes and where to go.

"You know he's crazy about you," Cordelia commented. Rhysa only nodded. "He's driving himself and the rest of us nuts trying to figure out what the Oracles meant."

"It's pretty annoying. Permitted to...fight? Cook spaghetti? Hold my breath until I turn blue?" She laughed and Cordelia giggled.

"They said something about you being his focus and therefore you were permitted...wait a second!" Cordelia's face lit up. "Stay here, I'll be right back. I gotta ask Wesley..." She dashed up the stairs. Rhysa grinned, used to Cordy's excitability, and closed her eyes as she moved to the beautiful song.

Don't say a prayer for me now...save it 'til the morning after
No don't say a prayer for me now...save it 'til the morning after

"Wesley." Cordelia appeared at his elbow, out of breath. "I thought of something. I want you to call Giles."

"Now?" Wesley's brows rose. "For what?"

Cordy glanced at Angel, but he wasn't even paying attention. He was watching Rhysa, his thoughts far from the table and his companions. His girl, Cordelia had called her...he liked the way that felt.

"Oracles...Brood Boy...Archivist," she hissed into his ear, dragging him downstairs to the pay phone. "Call him."

Feel the breeze deep on the inside look down into the well
If you can you'll see the world in all his fire
Take a chance (like all dreamers can't find another way.)
You don't have to dream it all, just live a day.

Rhysa opened her eyes and caught Angel staring at her. She beamed happily at him and he couldn't help smiling back. She watched him rise and make his way downstairs, leaning against the rail by her and watching her. He loved watching her dance...he wished fervently that he could join her, but he contented himself with the knowledge that the adoring look on her face was directed only at him. *My girl,* he thought again. *I definitely like that idea.*

Don't say a prayer for me now...save it 'til the morning after
No don't say a prayer for me now...save it 'til the morning after

"It means that she anchors him. Can I go back to sleep now?" Giles sounded very irritated and Cordelia snatched the phone from Wesley, intent on sweet-talking him.

"But what did they mean, permitted?"

Giles sighed. "She's the focal point through which your combined efforts funnel into him. She concentrates the work the two of you do. Without her, it's more scattered...so she anchors him."

"Meaning?"

"They have given her to him to aid his quest for redemption, much as they gave the two of you. Perhaps they feel some guilt for ejecting her from a perfectly normal life...you were both down on your luck when he found you. Who knows, with TPTB?"

"So you think he can be with her? And not release Angelus?" Wesley took the phone back from Cordy, frowning at her.

"It's about a little more than the status of Angel's sex life," he scolded her. She made a horrible face at him as he continued the conversation with Giles.

"Has he felt Angelus stir at all around her?"

"No, he surely would have mentioned it," Wesley said thoughtfully.

"Ask him, to be sure, but it points to that being the meaning behind the Oracles saying that 'she is permitted.' He was seeking the reason she'd been brought to him, was he not?"

"He feared that she would be resentful and wanted to make sure she was the one the Prophecy referred to. He was very concerned about her feelings. And he said They told him that they understood."

"Well, They said it is written, and so it is," Giles finished. "Can I go back to bed now?"

"Thank you, Giles!" Cordelia gushed, grinning triumphantly at Wesley.

Pretty looking road I try to hold the rising floods that fill my skin
Don't ask me why I'll keep my promise - melt the ice
And you wanted to dance, so I asked you to dance But fear is in your soul,
Some people call it a one night stand, but we can call it paradise

Arms slid around her and she instantly recognized Angel's unique scent. "Hi," he murmured softly into her ear, molding his body against her back.

"Hi," she returned, heart racing at his proximity. "Thought you didn't dance?"

He chuckled. "I'm almost 300 years old...I do know how."

"So what brings you down here all of a sudden?"

"You looked lonely."

"Everyone's lonely, Angel. That's being human." She turned in his arms to face him, expression serious as she wound her arms around his neck, and that's when he knew he was in love with her. It saddened him a little, because he knew he wouldn't be able to give her lots of the things he thought she deserved, but she seemed so happy being with him...maybe it was possible...

"I haven't been human in a long time," he reminded her, and she surprised him by kissing the tip of his nose.

"Part of you is," she corrected him. "You're souled, remember?"

"You read too damn much," he grumbled, making her laugh.

Don't say a prayer for me now...save it 'til the morning after
No don't say a prayer for me now...save it 'til the morning after

"You like it," she teased. "Makes you all hot and bothered."

"I don't get hot." He stared at her mouth, unconsciously leaning closer to her.

"Maybe not, but it'll bother you to get glitter all over you," she pointed out as she leaned back, easing away from him just a little. "And Cordy'll kick you again for fraternization with, what'd she call me, 'your girlie'."

"I don't care," he returned, sliding a hand up her back and into her hair, bringing her closer again. "They brought you to me, surely They had to know I'd feel this way." His voice was soft, mouth centimeters from hers and moving slowly closer.

"This way?" She felt his nearness in every cell, every pore...her body screamed for his touch and he felt her need throughout his being. Angel's, not Angelus'. Of Angelus there was no sign.

"My girl..." His mouth touched hers delicately.

"Am I? I thought you were afraid to do that?" She returned the featherlight touch.

"I hope so...and I'm more afraid not to." He gave her another chaste kiss.

"Why?" She returned the touch once again.

"But I'm still afraid to," he added, aching to give her a real kiss. Instead, he brushed her lips softly again with his, loving the way she felt in his arms. The mad rush of her body's response to him amazed him.

"Once I kiss you, I won't stop." He anticipated her question, familiar with his Archivist's thought patterns.

"Angel...you know you have to." Her lips moved deliciously against his again and he fought the urge to deepen the kiss.

"Get a room, geez." They raised their heads and regarded a beaming Cordelia. "You two ready to go?"

Angel raised a brow at her and Cordelia giggled as she wiped lipstick from the corner of his mouth. "You look like you had a messy feed," she chided, "and silver glitter is SO not you."

As they made their way out, Angel guiding Rhysa with a gentle hand at the small of her back, Cordy hissed into his ear, "I have to talk to you."

"...and that was Giles' interpretation," Cordy finished.

"You called Giles from a payphone in a club?" Angel laughed. "Wish I could have seen his face."

"You said they said only her, right?" Angel nodded. "That's why, then, because she's enhancing your work. That's what Giles said, only in his long-winded way." Cordelia finished with a smile and Angel stifled a smirk, knowing his Cordy was a bit long-winded at times herself.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Well, have you felt long tall and ugly clawing at you lately?"

"No," Angel returned thoughtfully.

"Well, if you want to research it farther you talk to him...for now I am going home...and I'll be late tomorrow morning, I can guarantee you!" Cordelia laughed. "Tell Rhy bye for me when she gets out of the shower."

"Okay," Angel returned quietly, mind racing as he debated what to do. Rhysa noticed his brooding as soon as she came out of the bath, but didn't comment. He sat in the silent, darkened living room, staring at nothing.

"Hey." She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and his gaze travelled from her bare feet up to her concerned face. "I'm going to go on to bed."

"Okay." He tried to smile but didn't quite make it.

"If you need to talk or anything...wake me up, okay?"

"I will," he agreed, both of them knowing he wouldn't. She squeezed his shoulder lightly, then turned and walked towards the bedroom.

"Rhy?"

"Uh huh?" She paused in the doorway, turning to look at him.

"I'm sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind."

"I understand," she said very softly, continuing into the bedroom and sliding into the bed, switching out the light. Not fifteen minutes had passed before she felt his weight settle beside her and his arms draw her close, tucking her neatly under his chin.

"I think better this way," he said, sensing her smile. She drifted contentedly off to sleep, leaving him to his musings.

his trip (A/N: unwritten)

Not sure if she was dreaming, and not really caring, she became aware of his weight resting on her, body fully atop hers, full arousal nestled firmly against her. His fingers smoothed her hair away from her face and his lips nuzzled her throat. A soft moan escaped her and her arms closed around him, hands clutching at his broad shoulders. It felt so good, having his weight resting there...

"I hope you're dreaming about me," Angel remarked as he lowered his head and tenderly assaulted her throat again. He wanted to bite her but wasn't quite ready to do that yet. He kissed a slow path down her neck, burrowing gently into the vee of her cleavage.

"Mmm..." she sighed, fingers tangling in his hair as she subconsciously urged him closer. She was postive she was having yet another steamy dream about her mesmerizingly beautiful house-mate, so her inhibitions were deeply suppressed.

He tasted her skin, relishing the slight tang of it, then boldly cupped her breasts in his hands, gathering them, enjoying the soft weight of them.

"Oh, God..." Her voice was sinfully husky and created swirling currents of heat in his lower belly. He arched against her and her legs slid around his waist, pinning him against her, not that he was in any hurry to leave.

"Angel...oh God Angel..." The sound of his name drove him crazy...she WAS dreaming about him. He groaned softly, and her eyes flew open. She'd never heard him make that sound before and it was definitely not something she could reproduce in a dream.

"Angel?"

"Hmm?"

"I thought you weren't going to do this?"

"This?" He nosed the edge of her tank as low as he could, dipping his tongue underneath it to taste her. Her soft intake of breath spurred him even more and he rolled his hips, pressing his arousal even harder against her.

"Anything, I mean, like this..." She trailed off as he looked up at her, moonlight bathing the planes of his face in soft silver. Curving her hands over his bare shoulders, she simply gazed back.

"You're dreaming," he answered playfully, returning his gaze to her body as he eased her tank up. His palms, warm from her skin, curved over her breasts and he kneaded them gently, dropping soft kisses over the smooth skin of the underside.

"Angel." Her voice held a warning, but she was having a hard time concentrating around his loving touches. "Answer me...oh!" His mouth fastened over a nipple, suckling gently at her, and her hands tightened on his shoulders.

"I'm not doing anything," he mumbled around her. "I'm doing everything."

"And when did that become permissible?"

"Apparently when you got here."

"What? Stop that, I can't concentrate!"

"I know," he said, changing sides with his attentions. "I don't want you to. Well, maybe on a few things..."

"Um..." His mouth drew fire on her skin wherever it touched, even though his heat was only a reflection of hers, but she was breathless as he nipped gently at her. "Like what?" she panted softly, tugging at his hair in an effort to get him to stop.

He raised his head, studying her. She was flushed, eyes dark with feeling, and it had been a long time since a woman looked like that because of him. "Ever think about having a vampire as a boyfriend?" he queried, dropping soft kisses along her breastbone.

"No, can't say that I have...you're the first one I've ever really, well, known." She watched him curiously, fingers idly wandering down his back, stroking his skin.

"As a lover?"

"Um...do I have to answer that?" He looked at her quickly, warmth sparking in his eyes.

"Uh huh," he said, expression positively wicked. "You do."

"I do?"

"Yes..." He delighted in her soft gasp when he ever-so-delicately bit her, just a pinprick, tongue swirling over her skin to capture the tiny bead of blood that pooled there.

"No," she said then, hands sliding over his back, tracing his spine.

"No?" He grew still, hoping she wasn't saying what he was afraid she might be.

"His being a vampire was not really the first thing I thought about when I thought about whether I wanted him as a lover," she said coyly, squeezing his waist with her legs.

"What was?" He kissed her neck right underneath her chin, preparing for another nip.

"Just...him. He's a wonderful guy...funny, warm, open...beautiful...oh God Angel..." Her arms tightened around him as he bit her again.

"Do you love him?" Angel traced the line of her jaw with his lips, half eager for and half afraid of her answer.

"With all my heart," she responded without hesitation.

"And he loves you..." He touched her lips with his, softly at first, then quickly growing passionate...

"Oh geez." She opened her eyes to find Angel's concerned gaze on her face.

"You called me...everything okay?" He leaned against the doorframe as he watched her sit up, ready to be at her side if something was wrong.

"No. I had the weirdest dream..." She looked at her hands where they rested in her lap, frowning at them

"Want to talk about it?"

"No!" Her head shot up, cheeks coloring as she answered vehemently.

"Okay," he said doubtfully. He could smell both fear and arousal on her and could hear her madly thumping heart, and just hoped she was really okay.

"Fuck," she swore as she climbed out of the bed, padding past him, clad in t shirt and shorts. He stared after her as she walked out of the room, shocked by the obscenity and even more puzzled when he heard the door shut behind her as she went upstairs.

"Wesley!" she wailed as she wandered into the front office, practically walking into him in order to get a hug.

"Are you alright?" Her cousin peered anxiously at her after giving her a big hug.

"No. I'm losing my mind." She plopped down on the couch in the lobby, bracing her elbows on her knees and dropping her forehead into her hands, staring at the floor.

Wesley and Cordy exchanged a glance, aware of exactly what the problem was.

"What makes you say that?" Wesley asked, eyebrows climbing nearly into his hairline as Angel silently opened the door, concern etched on his features.

"Him. I had the most insane, impossible dream...are your Oracle people doing something funny to my poor head?"

"Why would you think that?" Cordy asked, heading Angel off in the doorway and herding him back down the stairs. He looked helplessly at her. Just because he'd been around a long time did not mean he'd perfected his skills in handling an upset woman.

"Because...I'm dreaming things that are never going to happen, things that are never going to be said, and it's driving me nuts." Rhy shook her head frustratedly, not looking up.

Cordy frowned even more fiercely at Angel as she quietly shut the door.

"You're breaking her heart," she told him. "Why haven't you told her?"

"Cordy, I can't give her the things she deserves-"

"Did you ask her what she wants instead of worrying so much about what you want for her?"

He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again.

"You're not afraid because of Angelus, are you? You're afraid because of Angel."

"Yeah," he admitted softly, knowing he couldn't hide it from one of his closest friends.

"Angel, she's crazy about you. She wants to be here, with you. You want it too and TPTB gave it to you...what are you doing standing down here talking to me when your girl is up there breaking into little pieces over you?"

"Okay, okay," he grumbled, flashing his game face at her just to make her jump. "So I'm nervous."

"Go," Cordy answered stubbornly, poking his vamp nose.

"That's really undignified; I hope no demons ever see you do that to me."

"Go," she said again, "or I'll make sure they do."

He laughed, slipping back to human face. Impulsively, he hugged Cordy, feeling strangely optimistic. "Thank you, Princess," he whispered into her auburn hair.

"Yeah, yeah, invite me to the wedding," she quipped, earning a panicked look from Angel as he opened the door and stepped silently back into the lobby. Rhy was still sitting in the same defeated posture, Wesley looking on anxiously.

"I'm losing my mind," she muttered, staring at the floor. "And this carpet sucks." Familiar black boots came into her view and she slowly looked up, eyes traveling over Angel's long legs and finally to his concerned face. He held his hands out to her and with a quizzical look, she placed hers in his. Angel pulled her to her feet and into his arms, against him so firmly that she had to slip her arms around his neck to keep her balance. He looped his arms around her waist, keeping her as close as possible as he captured her lips with his. He ignored her soft protest and she relaxed into the kiss, fingers toying with the hair on the nape of his neck.

"Rhy?" he murmured softly against her mouth after a long moment.

"Uh huh?"

"I like the carpet." Only Angel would attempt to couch an apology in defending his office's carpet.

"You would," she replied, allowing it. His answer was cut short by Cordelia's choked sound as a vision struck her. All three were instantly at her side.

"Ilyra," Rhysa said as Cordelia was describing the demon she'd seen. Wesley looked it up in a book, earning a frown from Rhysa. As he confirmed her statement, she thumped him in the stomach and did an "I told you so" dance around him, eliciting a chuckle from Angel as he was gathering his weapons.

"Will you call Gunn and have him meet me there?" he requested of no one in particular, and Rhy reached for the phone, only to have Wesley swat her hand away.

"Angel, be careful," she said, eyes speaking volumes as she looked at him, although she was swatting back in Wesley's general direction.

"I will," he promised. "I'll be home."

And he was gone, leaving the three of them to pace and wait. Cordelia and Rhysa went down to the apartment to watch TV and try to kill the time, while Wesley elected to stay in the office and research while he waited.

True to his word, Angel came home...bleeding, unconscious, and supported by Gunn and Wesley. He'd been slashed across the stomach, a nasty deep gash, and had lost a lot of blood. White-faced and silent, Rhysa helped them clean and patch him up and tuck him into bed.

"He usually heals pretty fast as long as he gets to rest and feed," Cordelia said. "There's blood in the refrigerator and you already know how to deal with that so he should be fine in a few days."

"I hope so. How's your head?" Rhy walked her to the door as she prepared to leave.

"Better. I should buy stock in Advil. We'll check on him in the morning, call me if there's trouble," Cordy said as she departed.

"I'm going to do a bit of work upstairs," said Wesley. "I'll check back in before I leave."

"Okay. I'm going to stay here," she answered, going back into the bedroom. She lay gingerly on the edge of the bed, watching Angel's face, praying for some sign of recovery. She frowned as she gently touched his cheek, alarmed at how cold he was. "I wish you'd wake up," she said softly, smoothing his hair back.

He stirred slightly then, lids moving but his eyes not opening. "Cold," he mumbled thickly.

"Okay...okay, I'll find something..." She got up and hunted around in the depths of the linen closet, emerging triumphant with an electric blanket she was willing to bet Angel had forgotten he had. She eased the coverlet back, tucking the blanket snugly over him on top of the sheet, then replacing the coverlet. Switching the blanket on, she headed upstairs.

"How is he?" Wesley's quiet voice startled Rhysa..

"No change. He hasn't moved and he's cold...colder than usual, I mean. I found an electric blanket."

Wesley frowned. "Maybe I should call Giles...you've not run across anything about this, have you?"

"Vampires not healing? Well, the fastest healing comes from fresh blood, Sire's or human's..." She trailed off and they both looked thoughtful. "He won't like it," she finally said.

"Since finding his Sire is not exactly an option, he doesn't have a choice if he wants to...um, live...."

"I guess if you can wake him up and explain it to him, go ahead."

"Rhy, he'll get through this," Wesley tried to reassure her. "He's been hurt pretty badly before. There's still work for him to do; They're not going to let him go like this."

"I hope you're right," she said sadly. "I'm going to hit the couch, so lock up when you leave and be careful. I'll see you and Cordy tomorrow."

"Rhysa?"

She woke with a start to find Wesley and Cordelia peering at her. "How is he?" was her first question.

"I told her about what we discovered last night, " Wesley said. "We tried to wake him up but-"

"He won't feed," Cordelia cut in, scowling at her employer's stubbornness. "He growled."

"Check the bandages and see if he's healed up any," Wesley said, "and let us know. By this time he ought to at least have closed up a bit, so maybe it won't be necessary."

"Okay," Rhy agreed, going into the bedroom.

She slowly eased the sheet down to check his bandages. Her brows raised at the notable lack of underwear when his hips were revealed, but she turned her attention to his injuries, concerned that he wasn't healing anywhere near as fast as he should be. What should have already been scabbed over was still barely closed over. She replaced his bandages with fresh ones and tucked him back under the covers.

"Any better?"

She looked up when Cordelia came into the room. "Nothing like it should be," she replied.

Cordelia frowned. "Let me tell Wesley..." she trailed off as she left the room. Rhysa watched Angel's still face, relaxing fractionally, only to come to attention again when Cordy came charging in.

"I'm going to have a word with Mister Hardhead here...can we be alone for a second?"

Rhy smiled, recognizing Cordy's expression. "Sure thing, boss," she teased, getting up and withdrawing from the room. Cordelia had known Angel for years and when she set her mind to something, Angel was likely to do it, sleeping being no excuse. She left the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her.

She and Wesley stared at the door, eyeing each other when they heard Cordy's voice raise a couple of times. Once they thought they heard Angel, but neither was sure. The door opened soon and Cordy emerged, traces of tears sparkling in her lashes.

"Come on in," she said to Rhysa.

"Okay..." Rhy looked startled but moved slowly towards the door. Angel appeared to be sleeping.

"Go ahead and get comfortable...we're going to have to make him feed." Cordy frowned as she fetched a razor from Angel's bathroom, and shrugging, Rhysa climbed into the bed, snuggling against Angel's side in the pleasant warmth.

"You're sure you're okay with this?" Cordelia stood by the bed with the razor, expression unreadable, a real indication of just how worried she was about her boss and best friend.

"Call it a jump start," Rhy said dryly, relaxing as best she could. Cordy made the tiniest nick in the skin of Rhysa's neck, then she rolled to her side, Cordy helping her bring Angel's mouth to the bleeding cut. He stirred a little at the scent and his arms closed around her, his mouth opening against her neck as he drank from her. A little strength returned to him and he opened his eyes, a frown clouding his brow, but Rhysa cradled him against her, humming softly to him as though to a baby. His eyes slipped closed again and he licked gently at the wound until it stopped bleeding, then he relaxed into a less troubled, healing sleep. Rhy turned her head and regarded Cordelia sleepily, and she smiled and gave a thumbs up before exiting the room, shutting the door behind her. Rhy curled up tightly with Angel and dropped off to sleep.

She woke some hours later to find Angel gazing at her with a worried expression.

"What is it?" Anxiety colored her tone and he shook his head.

"I need...I mean...can I..." He trailed off, voice slightly hoarse, and simply looked at her, unwilling to ask. She snuggled deeply into his embrace, gently pulling him to her.

"Of course you can," she returned softly. "You have to get better." She hugged him, burying her face against his neck, trying her best not to cry.

"I will, I promise..." He held her close and breathed in her clean scent. "Thanks for the blanket," he said after a moment. "Where did you find it?"

"Best not to ask," she returned dryly. "Your linen closet is a portal to the underworld."

That made him smile just a little. "So where do you want it?"

"Oo, loaded question...where you wanna give it to me?" she teased. His expression turned serious and heat sparked in his dark eyes.

Shifting her almost effortlessly in his arms, he eased her closer, lightly brushing her throat with his lips. "Right here," he decided, and she felt his face shift as he bit into her as gently as he could, hands stroking her back soothingly as he drank.

"Angel..." Her voice was decidedly unsteady. He made an inqusitive noise in his throat, withdrawing his fangs and shifting back to his human face, bathing the punctures with his tongue until the bleeding stopped. Her expression startled him when he met her eyes...she was pale but her eyes were smoky and passionate. "That was amazing..."

"Amazing...?" He handed her a leading question, but just then Cordy came in.

"You drink this," she presented Rhysa with a glass of juice, "and you both go to sleep. And you heal," she added for Angel's benefit.

"Yes ma'am," Rhysa shot back, obediently downing the juice and handing the glass back, then snuggling back up to Angel's delightfully warm body.

"Are you okay?" he asked as soon as Cordy left the room.

"I'm great," she responded brightly. "Tired, but great. Don't suppose you feel any better yet?"

"Not yet, it takes time. I'm still exhausted," he said, raising a brow when she chuckled.

"You give me the single most erotic experience of my life to date and I guess you better at least be tired," she said, pillowing her head on his chest.

"Was it really?" he asked after a long moment, struggling just a little against the sleep threatening to overtake him.

"Mm-hmm," she answered drowsily, lifting her head long enough to drop a kiss onto his smooth skin. "G'night..." and she was out like a light. Angel followed soon after.