Smooth Criminal

Part 2

indie and tango

The text of our fic is in black.

All of indie’s comments are in red.

All of tango's comments are in blue.

Before we start on the Part 2 commentary, I just thought I’d mention how quickly we wrote this fic. It came out unbelievably fast and like the goobers we are, we constantly told each other how much we loved it. We write back and forth through email. Sometimes we would exchange this fic up to 10 times a day. I would come into work with a part waiting in my inbox and so would indie. It was great.

The following day when she got up for school, she was slightly afraid that her friends would see on her face that she was not at all the same as she was yesterday. She was a woman who had been completely and thoroughly kissed – while half naked – by the high school loser and bad boy. She was also worried that Angel would actually come up to her and try to speak to her in front of one of her friends. Groping in the garage was one thing, but the hallowed halls of Sunnydale High were another matter entirely.

She held her breath the first time she saw him, in second period English and was shocked, thankful and a little hurt that he didn’t even glance in her direction. In fact, it was as if he hadn’t been making out with her the night before. She certainly didn’t want him to openly acknowledge her, especially since Harmony was also in that class, but a sly glance, maybe a wink would have been something.

For someone she never noticed before, now she saw him everywhere. It seemed like their paths crossed constantly and every time she even thought she saw a tall, broad shouldered guy, her stomach did a little flip flop.

After lunch, she was leaving the restroom alone when a strong arm wrapped around her waist and a hand went over her mouth. She kicked and tried to scream, but no one noticed her disappearing into the supply closet right across the hall. Once inside the closet, she bucked and kicked more, and found she was overpowered.

“Shhh. It’s Angel.”

“Angel,” she whispered harshly. “What the hell are you doing?”

I really liked the idea of Angel Shanghai-ing Buffy and molesting her in the broom closet. Yes, it’s a Cordy/Xander moment, but I think it really works.

“This,” he whispered back and covered her lips with his own. She opened for him immediately, exploring his mouth with her tongue. Her passion, along with her pressing her body so closely against his, caused him to moan. He slithered his hand under her designer shirt and cupped one of her breasts over the lacy bra she wore. Just feeling how little there was of it made his body heat up. He had no doubt that feeling up the prom queen in a supply closet was every boy’s dream in their school. As his other hand squeezed her firm ass, he felt her arms tightened around him even more.

When the kiss finally ended and they were both breathless, neither knew how much time had passed or even what class they were missing. Angel knew he was on the brink of making her miss the rest of her classes. He wanted more than anything to wrap her legs around him like they had been last night and plunge into her hot, silky depths.

“You should get to class,” he whispered, kissing her mouth again lightly and sifting his fingers through her silky hair.

“Class?” she echoed dazedly. “Right. Class. Yeah, I should…go there.”

This part with her being all in a daze was a reference to “Surprise” when Buffy says “Were we talking?” after they kissed. I love the idea that she would be so wrapped up in smoochies with Angel that she would forget what she was doing or what she was supposed to be doing.


“Miss Giles, how nice of you to join us,” Mr. Norton intoned dryly as Buffy tried to slip into her math class.

She winced, blushing as she took a seat next to Cordelia. “Girl problems,” she said quickly. Every time I read this line, I think of Clueless when Cher says she was “surfing the crimson wave” and had to “haul ass to the Ladies’.” Just an aside.

In pure typical male fashion, Mr. Norton quickly dropped the subject, pretending Buffy didn’t exist. She sighed in relief. Perhaps she’d manage to get through this without her math teacher mentioning her absence to her father. It was one of many pitfalls of having a parent employed at her school.

“Where were you?” Cordy asked.

“Bathroom,” Buffy said truthfully. It had taken her a good twenty minutes to make herself presentable again after her mutual molestations with Angel. As it was, her lips were still swollen and she looked flushed despite expert application of Chanel’s newest line of blusher. “Some mouth-breather bumped into me at lunch and spilled nacho cheese on my sandals.”

“How horrible,” Harmony said seriously, leaning in closer.

“I think they’ll be fine,” Buffy said self-consciously, tucking her feet under her chair.

Cordelia frowned at both of them. “We have to meet at the Bronze tonight,” she said. “We need a serious game plan for the dance.”

Buffy winced. She was supposed to help Angel again. “I can’t,” she said.

Cordelia’s expression could have frozen ice. “You have more important plans?”

“The new Vogue came out today,” she said plainly.

“Oh,” Cordy and Harmony said in unison, as if it made perfect sense. And sadly, it did. This part by indie really amused me as did the nacho cheese on the sandals. Anytime you see a reference to a mouth-breather it’s indie. I love that phrase.

“Well, maybe we should postpone,” Cordy said, trying to sound offhand. Truth was Cordy wouldn’t run the risk of Buffy showing up at school tomorrow having received the newest missive from the fashion gods a day ahead of her.

“Sounds like a plan,” Buffy said, now realizing she’d have to stay up half the night reading that damn magazine.

“But we need to discuss dates,” Harmony whined.

Buffy looked at her sadly. Harmony had always been infinitely more interested in boys than fashion, something both she and Cordelia viewed as a fault. “You’re going with Daryl, right? What’s to discuss?”

“Well .. “ Harmony trailed off. “What about you two? Cordy, are you still going with Devon? And Buffy, I saw you talking to that guitarist, Oz, at lunch. You two aren’t an item, are you?”

“As if,” Cordelia replied for Buffy. “Buffy was so picky she turned down Percy, who has the three B’s : bod, bank and beamer. Do you seriously think Choosey gal is going to go for a musician?”

The amount of time it took me to come up with three things that started with the same letter that could be the “must have”s for Buffy took forFUCKINGever. I should probably be embarrassed to admit that.

Really? LOL! I had no idea.

I remember working that part out on IM with Gia. I was trying to find a “b” to signify money and I really couldn’t see Cordy saying “bling bling”. So yeah, bank.

Buffy shook her head. Her pickiness when it came to guys was legendary. “Oz is just ... “ “Elipses, I love elipses. If you see one, it’s mine. They’re like crack to me. I’m trying to stop, but I can’t. I love them too actually. I try not to write them in on purpose cause half of my writing would have an ellipsis. She couldn’t say ‘a friend’. “Helping me with my computer project. Besides, I’m fairly sure he’s dating Willow Rosenberg.”

“Ugh,” Cordy derided. “Why would anybody ruin their cool factor by being seen with that loser?”

Buffy was saved by the bell. She really didn’t want to say anything bad about Willow. She seemed like such a nice girl. But Buffy doubted that Cordelia would allow her to remain neutral on the subject.


“Uh, thanks again for the ride,” Buffy said, hopping out of Oz’s van. She was quite relieved that she didn’t have to walk to the shop today, but if anybody saw her with Oz, she wasn’t sure how far the homework fib would stretch.

Buffy hurried inside the garage to ensure she wouldn’t be seen. She sent a curt nod in Bud’s direction before heading to the back office. As she reached the door, she heard voices. Naturally, she stopped to eavesdrop before she bothered to knock. The sound of Angel’s voice in concert with a feminine drawl made her skin crawl.

“Angel,” the blonde purred, “You can play hooky tonight. Come and play.”

“Look, I told you I can’t take off work whenever you want to hook up,” Angel said, brushing her hand away from his crotch. “I’ve got work to do.”

When she didn’t recognize the woman’s voice, she turned the doorknob ever so slowly and peeked inside. Angel was practically pressed against the wall and some skanky blonde was rubbing her tits all over him! She didn’t look familiar. She was older than them by at least five years. She probably had an old shoe full of neglected children. This whole section is tango’s. I love that line so much. *G* A feminine snarl escaped Buffy’s mouth.

Before she even really made a decision, she was opening the door and strolling inside. Angel’s mouth dropped at her approach and he shifted away from the girl guiltily. “Hi, baby,” Buffy crooned. She was so glad she had worn her “skinny” outfit that day. She was feeling fresh, chic and beautiful. She was sure it emanated from her as she approached Angel and kissed him full on the lips before smiling coldly at the girl.

“I’m Buffy,” she announced brightly, taking Angel’s hand in hers. She fought the urge to frown when she saw his visitor’s face. She was actually beautiful, much more beautiful than should be allowed.

“Darla,” she answered in a sultry voice. Buffy wanted to hit her but after close scrutiny, she saw that Darla’s slutty red dress was a DKNY knock off, her sexy come fuck me heels were totally last season and she obviously hadn’t had a proper manicure in months.

“I thought you had to work, Angel.” Her voice was cold as ice. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared.

“We do have to work,” Buffy said, trying to keep the sharpness out of her voice.

Darla tossed back her head and laughed out loud. “That’s priceless. You working here? What use could you possibly be to this garage? Do you cheer on the mechanics?”

“No,” Buffy answered. She lowered her lip in her cutest mock pout. “Angel lets me give him blow jobs. He says it makes him more productive.” Losing the act with a very unladylike snort, she headed for the door.


Bud poked his head around the corner. “Looks like she’s gone, darlin’,” he said with a wink.

Buffy smiled. She actually liked Bud. It helped that Bud really didn’t like Darla. “Thanks,” she replied, giving him her cutest smile. “Does, she, uh, stop by here much?” she asked coyly.

“Darla?” Bud snorted. “She’s like a cat in heat. She comes sniffin’ around whenever her old man’s outta town.”

Buffy frowned. “Is that often?”

Bud seemed to consider this for a moment. “Coupla times a month,” he said. He leaned in closer, “But Angel doesn’t have a brain in his head if he’d choose that harpy over a sweet little thing like you.” Another aside, but I can’t see the word “harpy” and not think of the writer Harpy. She’s totally ruined the word for me. (This part was indie’s.) For the record, I have to stop myself from crowing about every word and phrase that I loved in this fic. It’s really hard, but I’m going to try to keep away from the constant dick sucking in this fic. *beams*

When Buffy exited the office fifteen minutes later, Angel’s expression was one of barely contained amusement. He looked her outfit up and down approvingly before crossing his arms over his chest and leaning one hip against her car. “Kitten has some claws,” he said with a smirk.

Buffy shrugged, tossing her hair over one shoulder. The outfit she had chosen for working on the car wasn’t terribly functional, but it looked damn good. The see-through black microfiber tanktop was from the soon to be released Sean John women’s spring couture collection. She’d had to lean hard on her Macy’s connection to get it. The Segio Valente low rise jeans she had been intending to save for the mandatory trick-or-treating supervision Snyder signed her up for, but drastic times called for drastic measures.

Buffy sauntered over to the tool chest, putting a hefty swing in her hips. The tanktop and jeans didn’t meet, leaving an expanse of taut, sun-kissed skin bare to his eyes. Just as she had planned, Angel’s attention was riveted on her. Very conspicuously, she picked up a wrench, idly stroking it with her perfectly manicured nails before gently returning it to its place. More sauntering and she was standing right in front of him.

He was trying hard to look unaffected, but she could hear him breathing far too hard. Looking up at him from beneath her lashes she said, “I really don’t know exactly what is going on between us, but I do know that I don’t share.”

I originally had the line, “I don’t … but Buffy doesn’t share.” Once again Miss Accusing Me of Changing Her Line When I Never Did took it out. She doesn’t like the idea of Buffy referring to herself in the third person. Which, yeah, okay, that is really FUCKING annoying as well as weird and pathetic. In all honesty, it’s best that she changed it. It also makes me very self-conscious of when I refer to myself in the third person. And yes, I do it more often than I should.

Just for the record, there was no accusing, only asking. Also, I have never heard indie refer to herself in third person. I actually think I might do it a tad too much.

I do it all the time. But only when I call myself “indie”. I never do it with my real name. I think I may be creating an entirely different personality for my online ID. Be afraid. Be very, very afraid.

He took a deep breath, licking his lips before he spoke. “That makes two of us, I guess.” He pushed away from the car, circling around her. She turned as he moved, following his motion with her body. He situated himself so that she was between him and the car. Leaning forward, he braced both of his hands against the car, trapping her.

Rather than being intimidated, Buffy smiled wickedly at him. He was wearing his standard work clothing, a pair of stained grey coveralls. Reaching out, Buffy grasped the coverall’s zipper between her fingers and pulled it all the way down. Her knuckles barely grazed against his crotch and she heard his sharp intake of breath. She spread the halves of the coverall wide and raked her fingernails over his wifebeater.

I loved the idea of her being innocent yet at the same time incredibly ballsy. She’s used to going after what she wants.

He leaned in closer, pressing his lips against her temple. He rumbled her name against her hair. She boldly pulled up the front of his shirt. When his muscled chest and stomach were bared to her eyes she gave a tiny mewl of delight before sliding her hands over his skin. Angel threaded his fingers through her hair and captured her mouth in a possessive kiss. He wanted to take his time, but found he had no patience whatsoever and she, responding in kind, immediately parted her lips to tangle her tongue with his.

Unlike her usual encounters with the male species, Buffy didn’t think about her makeup being smudged, her hair rumpled or even his mechanic hands roaming her body – which were becoming more adventurous by the second. It didn’t occur to her to be the incredibly picky girl she had always been, choosing a man that matched her shoes and handbag like an accessory. Angel didn’t glide smoothly into her world. In fact, he didn’t fit in it at all, but when he touched her, she forgot who she was supposed to be.

A liquid swirling started in her belly. She clenched with desire, gasping his named against his mouth when he lifted her onto the hood of her car. She wrapped her legs around him and her eyes widened in surprise when felt his arousal jutting against her through both of their clothing.

Her previous sloppy and otherwise forgettable kisses with other boys hadn’t included anything like this. They wouldn’t have dared touch her like this. Buffy would have not allowed some meaty paw ruining her well-planned outfit or rumpling her carefully arranged hair. She would have turned in disgust from some other raging hormonal ball of trouble pressing himself against her.

“Oh Gods,” she gasped in pleasure when he abandoned her mouth to nip and lick her neck. Instead of backing off, he pressed closer, grinding against her as he peeled her tank top up and feasted his eyes on her breasts. A warning flashed in his head but he didn’t stop, couldn’t. He did, however, force himself to slow down. Gently, he cupped her breasts in his hands and trailed his thumbs around her nipples lightly as he nipped at her mouth again.

“Angel,” she whined, wanting something, but not entirely sure what. He caressed her nipples lightly until they were so erect and tight, they hurt. She squeezed her legs around him and gripped his shoulders. As he lowered his head to her breast, he glanced up at her and met her eyes. He smiled at her broadly with pure, carnal male satisfaction before capturing one erect point between his teeth.

She hissed, her fingers threading through his hair, holding him to her. He suckled her, his tongue swirling around her nipple until she made these high, keening noises. His cock jumped in response. Damn, he wanted her. He’d had plenty of women, but none of them had ever come close to turning him on the way Buffy did. His hand abandoned her breast, tickling down her stomach to the fly of her jeans.

He popped the button and her breath caught as her entire body stilled. He looked up at her, his mouth still wrapped around her nipple.

She bit down on her bottom lip, looking at him with impossibly large eyes. “I, uh,” she stuttered. “I’ve never done ... uh, it before.”

Angel stared up at her for a long moment. Thoughts ricocheted through his mind. He hadn’t really thought about Buffy having sex with anyone else, but he sort of assumed she had. She was one of the beautiful people, after all. He’d heard stories about the drunken parties. He’d seen the steamed up windows of beamers and Porsches.

He released her nipple from his mouth and slowly retreated, crawling off her body. He backed up several paces until his back hit the garage wall. Slowly, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, never taking his eyes off her.

Self-consciously, Buffy tugged her tanktop down, pushing herself into a sitting position. She looked around the room, not meeting his gaze. “I didn’t mean to freak you out,” she huffed, but it didn’t hide the undercurrent of pain in her voice.

“No, Buffy,” he said, chastising himself for his insensitivity. He closed the distance between them, gently cupping her cheek. “I didn’t mean anything ... I just ... “ He growled, raking a hand through his hair.

She squared her shoulders, looking slightly mollified. “I assume you’ve ... “

“Uh ... yeah,” he admitted, not particularly proud of the fact. He was really hoping she didn’t want details. His first time had been when he was fourteen, with one of his dad’s girlfriends. He wasn’t going to share that information with Buffy, however, if he could possibly avoid it.

I really wanted to delve into Angel’s past more, but Tango cut me off. She didn’t want to think about Angel getting it on with one of his dad’s girlfriend. I found the idea incredibly squicky and appealing. I have problems. I know this.


I love that Angel goes from a thug to “sexy, confident and intelligent” after one make out session. The next day at school, Buffy was trapped between being grumpy and floating on air. Angel was so sexy, confident and intelligent. How someone could be those things and still be so unpopular was beyond her. Judging from Darla, Buffy assumed Angel had made it a habit of sleeping with whoever crossed his path. He was a sexy package deal - fix your car and get your brains fucked out. That line is tango’s, I fucking love it (she may be refraining from the dick sucking, but I am not. Hoover, move over.). Who wouldn’t go to a mechanic like that?

She went through the day in a frustrated daze. She didn’t even bother to read the latest issue of Vogue to defend herself from Cordelia’s monthly fashion grilling. At lunchtime, while trying to avoid her friends, she wandered into the library to look for her father and found him drowning in his card catalog. The school had tried to get him to trade in his antiquated card catalog system for a computer generated one, but they stepped back when he threatened to quit.

“Hi, Daddy,” she grumbled and slumped in one of the chairs.

“Be right with you,” he said, absently, not even noticing it was his daughter that had walked in. Buffy almost smiled at that. No one but her father could concentrate so intently on something so dreadfully boring. She smiled at his nerdy appearance, shaking her blonde head. Unlike some kids would be, she wasn’t embarrassed at all that her father was the school librarian. Besides, half the teachers and some of the students had a crush on him.

“Giles, here’s another one.”

Buffy looked over her shoulder in utter disbelief to see Angel strolling from out of the stacks with a book in his hand. He nearly dropped his book in shock to see her there but recovered quickly. He set the book on the counter on top of a short stack.

“Thank you, Angel.” Giles said, making a notation of the book on the list he was working on. He glanced up and smiled. “Buffy, do stop gaping,” he said, biting back the grin that was threatening to slip over his lips.

“What are you doing in here with my father?” Buffy demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

I loved the idea that Buffy would be appalled to find Angel associating with her father. And astounded that he’s in a library.

“It’s not like I broke into your house, Buffy,” Angel chuckled. “This is a school library. Any student can just walk right in whenever they want.”

“Since when?”

“Since always, my dear,” Giles said, cracking that grin after all. “Angel helps me three times a week over his lunch hour. Has for this whole semester and half of last.” This is a reference to “Passion” when Jonathan and another student walk into the library during an Angelus discussion.

“Why?” Buffy demanded of Angel. He looked annoyingly sexy in a pair of worn jeans, his ever present wifebeater showing off those sexy arms and black leather dog collar. She should have been scandalized by what he was wearing or that she was having a conversation with this tattooed, future convict in front of her father of all people. Instead, she wanted to grab his hand and find the nearest closet. “Don’t you have enough jobs?”

“Detention originally,” Angel shrugged. He leaned casually against the table and crossed his arms.

“For a semester and half?” Buffy sputtered.

“Well, it has its pros and cons,” Angel laughed. “Your dad’s cool. He lets me work in here instead of sitting in a room. I can usually get my homework done in here. And,” he leaned in and whispered, “he trusts me.”

“Trusts you?” She narrowed his eyes at him. “What did you tell him?”

“Surely, you didn’t think I wouldn’t notice the absence of your car and you after school every night until late, did you, Buffy?” Giles asked. Casually, he pulled out a handkerchief and cleaned off his glasses. Holding them, up he looked for spots and began wiping them off again. “I understand Angel is rebuilding your engine since you neglected to have your oil changed.”

That’s some pretty serious contrivance. How on earth would a parent not notice that their child’s car had been missing for days? Giles is even more oblivious than Joyce.

Buffy’s lips pursed together. “Oh, you heard about that?”

“Buffy,” Giles chastised, “I expect you to be more responsible in the future. We’re well off, but we most certainly cannot afford to be purchasing new cars. I don’t know what we’d do without Angel’s generosity.”

Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “Da- ad,” she whined. He couldn’t really hold her responsible for this, could he? The possessive part of her was tempted to tell her father about her and Angel. She doubted that he would think Angel was so, well, angelic if he had any idea what he’d tried to do to her on the hood of said car.

The doors to the library swept open, cutting Buffy short. She turned around in time to see Cordelia and Riley enter. Her posture immediately stiffened, even though she knew there was no way they could have heard her talking to Angel.

“There you are,” Cordelia said, a grin plastered on her face. She ran over to Buffy and then turned to glare at Angel. “Don’t you have a parole hearing to attend or something?”

“I don’t know what everybody meant this morning in study hall,” Angel said, leaning in towards Cordelia. “I don’t think that dress makes you look like a hooker. Trash, yes, but a hooker? No. Whores have better taste in shoes.”

Buffy could barely restrain her laughter as she watched Angel finish shelving the stack of books. Cordelia fumed the whole time, but Angel pointedly ignored her. “See you later, Giles,” Angel called, exiting the library.

Buffy didn’t miss the fact that he and Riley were openly glaring at each other. Angel smirked and took a half stutter-step toward Riley. Riley immediately jumped backward and then flushed, angry at himself for letting Angel know he was afraid of him. Angel just smiled.

HEE! I love the stutter step thing. It’s mine. I don’t care how stupid it is to love your own work, but I do. I thought it was so absurdly juvenile and idiotic and that it fit perfectly.

“Cretin,” Cordelia hissed as the doors swung shut.


Angel was already working on the car by the time Giles dropped Buffy at the shop. She walked around the car, seeing that he was on his back underneath it. She said his name, but only received a grunt in acknowledgement. Disheartened, Buffy went to the office to change. I love grunty Angel.

He was still under the car when she returned. Today’s outfit was significantly more subdued. She wore one of her dad’s old undershirts that she knotted to reveal a hint of midriff, and a pair of old grey sweats.

Buffy braced her hands against the engine block and leaned forward until she found a space where she could see Angel’s eyes. He looked at her for several moments before sighing and pushing himself out from under the car. He looked up at her for a second, letting his eyes rake over her body. Even in rags, she was breathtakingly fucking gorgeous.

So, here’s a part that’s kinda disjointed. I meant to look this up or ask a mechanic I know, but then didn’t and forgot about it. Basically, I wasn’t sure if he had to actually remove the engine to rebuild it. Since none of the car experts called us on it, I guess it was fine that I slacked on the research here.

Without warning she straddled and kissed him deeply. She laid her head on his chest and sighed. “I don’t wanna fight, Angel,” she started, her words muffled.

“I don’t see how this is going to work,” Angel said, sitting up. Both of them climbed to their feet. Angel stared into her eyes for a second. He wanted her so badly he’d sell his soul for it. It was frightening. He knew the best thing for both of them would be to stay away. He should fix her car, pat her on the ass and let her go. Looking at her now, he knew he wouldn’t. “This is a disaster waiting to happen,” he grumbled, “but I can’t walk away.”

Ah, and here’s the opposite of what happened in “Angel.” This is what I absolutely love about fanfic – changing things, making existing events work to your advantage. Even in AU, we draw a lot on canon to support our stories.

“Me either,” she said, stepped back into his arms with relief.

“We can keep this a secret if you want,” he said, “but if you think you’re going to the Halloween dance with Finn you’re sadly mistaken.” Jealous, growly Angel. Another one of my loves.

“Angel,” Buffy whined, “I’m not going to do anything with him. It’s just for appearances. I wouldn’t let him drool on my shoe.” Self pimp, but I wrote that line and I love it. Hee.

“No fucking way,” Angel growled, clutching her more tightly to him. “If you go down the hallway with him, let alone a dance, I’ll beat him within an inch of his sorry life.”

“What am I supposed to do?” she exclaimed. “Go to the dance with you?”

“Why the hell not?” he shot back. “You afraid the Cordettes will kick you out of their club?”

“I’m not afraid of them,” she said boasted and then bit her lip. “You’d go?”

“To keep you away from going with another guy? Oh yeah,” he growled, capturing her lips and pulling her closer.

She kissed back, biting down gently on his bottom lip as she pressed her breasts against his chest. He made this delicious little growly noise in the back of his throat that made her insides go all wiggly. Well, I’ll just hoover too. I love this part. I’m pretty sure indie wrote it. She has a way with words, I tell you. I have no idea if I wrote it or not.

Quite a while later, he finally pulled back, looking down at her. “Besides,” he said, resuming their earlier conversation, “I might have possibly already sort of been planning to go.”

Her brow furrowed. Then it hit her and she smacked him on the chest. “Dingoes are playing the dance.”

This is an example of something we do a lot when we write together. Tango forgot that Angel was already going to be at the dance because he was playing with the Dingoes. We catch each other a lot.

Yeah, it’s cute actually. Besides, steering each other in other directions, we often add stuff to change what the other has just said. LOL.

A lot of Buffy and Angel’s misunderstandings are actually our misunderstandings.

He shrugged. “What can I say? We’re cheap.”

Buffy shot him an exasperated look. “Well, then how are we supposed to go together? You’re going to be kind of busy.”

Frowning, Angel had to concede she had a point. “Fine,” he said, “we don’t have to go together. But you’re still not going with Finn and if I see him lay so much as a finger on you, I’ll jump off the stage and break his fucking neck.”

She smiled up at him goofily. “You like me,” she taunted.

Not in the least bit amused, he grabbed her hips, pulling her against him. His erection poked her in the stomach. “I’m a little past like,” he said.


“Oh, gods, not there. No! Wait. Lower. Lower. LOWER!” She smacked him on the shoulder. “Dammit, Angel!”

This part is confusing and it’s my fault. Tango was like “lower? What the fuck is he even doing?” Truth … I don’t know. I’m not sure it matters. She just wants him to go lower.

I was so confused here. I was like…where were his hands actually? Course, she’s right. It doesn’t really matter.

He grinned up at her unrepentantly. Before she could say anything more, he was off his knees and had her pinned against the wall between two large bookcases. His hand slid between her legs and he massaged her through the silky material of her panties. She moaned, arching against his hand as her fingernails bit into his shoulders.

“Is that low enough?” he whispered against her ear.

She shook her head frantically. All the concern she’d had earlier for her father possibly walking in on them was completely gone. Nothing existed save Angel and his infinitely talented lips and fingers. Taking a chance, he slipped his hand inside of her panties and pushed a finger inside her tight, wet heat. She was so luscious and slippery wet, that he groaned the same time she did.

“Gods, I want you,” he moaned, pulling one of her legs up his hip while he slid a second finger inside her and rubbed her clit slowly. She moaned in disbelief and pleasure when her legs went so wobbly and fire seemed to fill her veins. She dug her teeth into his shoulder, grinding her hips against his hand.

“Angel, please,” she muffled against his shoulder. She wasn’t quite sure what she was asking him to do, but she was begging for it before she exploded.

"Fuck," he hissed, dropping back to the floor, pulling her with him. She ended up on her back in the thankfully neglected stacks. Angel wasted no time levering his body over hers. Her legs automatically parted, wrapping around his hips as he ground against her, his mouth mauling hers. He abandoned her lips, kissing across her jaw and down her throat while one of his hands kneaded her breast.

He scooted down further, until his face was even with her waist. She moved restlessly, but didn't protest when he flipped her skirt up and hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her panties. Dutifully, she lifted her hips so he could skim the material down her thighs. Angel wasted no time once she was bare. He hooked her legs over his shoulders and lowered his mouth to her glistening curls.

Buffy let out a silent scream, her back arching wildly as he parted her with his tongue, licking her languidly. Her heels bit into his back and one of her hands was fisted in his hair. She was mindless, whimpering and panting as he licked her slowly. He took his time, languorously stabbing his tongue inside her liquid body before circling back up and suckling her clit. With a cry, she came, bucking against him like a thing possessed.

When she finally returned to herself, Angel was lying on his side next to her, his hands playing lightly over her body. She looked up at him, dazed. His eyes still smoldered with passion and Buffy knew he hadn't found the same release as she. Propping herself up on one elbow, she reached for his studded leather belt. He complied immediately, rolling over onto his back as her fingers freed his belt and made short work of his fly. He hissed, arching into her touch as her hand wrapped around his aching, stiff cock.

She licked her lips nervously and met his eyes, silently conveying the message that she wasn’t sure exactly what to do. She had never seen a real one, much less touched one. A nervous flutter filled her belly as she brought her lips to the glistening head of his cock and licked softly at the pre-ejaculate there. Encouraged that he didn’t seem to think it was the wrong thing to do, she took him into her mouth and swirled her tongue around the tip.

His eyes were intense dark pools. She couldn’t help but blush as their eyes met. His hand gently sifted through her hair, encouraging, but not guiding her movements. She returned her attention to his pleasure, taking him farther into her mouth, suckling gently. He growled and his hips shifted on the floor. Obviously, she was doing something right. Emboldened by her apparent success, she took more of him. He almost purred. She began a slow, bobbing pattern, taking him as far as she could into her mouth and then retreating until he was almost free from her mouth. Her hand followed her lips, stroking him. Before long, he was making these adorable little helpless noises.

“Buffy,” he whimpered, “Buffy ... “ Trying to pull her away from him. “I’m going to – “ He sucked in his breath sharply, his body trembling as his seed spilled over her tongue.

For the record, I think that scene is pretty hot.

Me too. This is one of the sex scenes that we wrote together. Sometimes we intentionally piss each other off by starting one and stopping at an awkward place so the other has to finish. I’m not sure exactly where we started and stopped with this one but we passed it back and forth more than once.

Course, we stop in the middle of scenes all the time. We don’t even always finish whole paragraphs. Hell, one time I stopped in the middle of a sentence and indie finished it. It was unintentional – I actually just cracked out – lol. I’m not sure if that was in this fic or not.


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