Angel was standing, arms crossed over his chest, drum sticks clasped firmly in hand, with one hip cocked out slightly. His face could have been chiseled out of granite for all the warmth in his expression. “No,” he said darkly.

Devon was clearly unhappy, but it was also equally obvious that he wasn’t about to argue with Angel. Buffy waited until the Dingoes lead singer left and finally moved from her hiding spot near the back of the Bronze. Oz was sitting on one of the amps, restringing his guitar and some other guy with bleached blonde hair and a cigarette dangling from his lips that played bass was tinkering with the soundboard.

As Buffy approached, Angel turned toward her. All the coldness melted away and a wicked, lopsided grin lit his face. He stood where he was, waiting for her and when she got close enough, he tucked one finger through her belt loop and pulled her against his body. Eagerly, she lifted her face, kissing him enthusiastically. It was minutes before they pulled apart and Buffy couldn’t help but blush, knowing both Oz and the Billy Idol clone were getting a free show.

Angel seemed to be highly amused by her embarrassment. Buffy rolled her eyes at his smile, but snuggled closer against his chest. “I saw you talking to Devon,” she said. “I can see why everybody’s afraid of you.”

“Devon’s being a jackass,” Angel said sourly, “he’s damn smart to be afraid.”

“You’re a marshmallow,” she countered with an impish smile.

He nuzzled against her ear. “To you,” he admitted.

“Awww. Isn’t that sweet?” The voice was cold enough to freeze ice and it was coming from Cordelia Chase. Buffy jerked out of Angel’s embrace to face her best friend and social executioner. Cordelia put her hands on her hips and approached the couple with a superior sneer on her face.

“Figures that picky little Buffy would find the biggest social reject in the entire school,” she said, shaking her head. She looked stunning as usual and had frowned at Buffy’s blue jeans ensemble for the evening. Now her frown had turned into a mask of disgust. “I was wondering why you wore blue jeans tonight like a member of the common people. It’s so clear to me now.”

***

On Monday morning, Buffy walked into school and joined her friends in front of school like always. Since she had barely slept the night before, she had plenty of time to make sure her appearance was perfect and synch with Vogue’s latest trends.

Cordelia, Harmony, Azure and Blue stood near the wall in front of school, catching up on the latest gossip before the bell rang. Buffy approached her friends warily and just as she was steps away, they all gathered up their bags and sauntered toward the front doors of the school. She groaned. Of course, they had to make this harder than it already was. Determined to not be ignored, she hurried over to them.

“Wait up!” she shouted, double timing it toward them. “Excuse me? Where’s the fire sale?”

“Oh sorry,” Cordelia chirped, turning around to face her. She had the most condescending, not to mention fake, smile on her face. “We didn’t see you.”

Cordy smiled sweetly and pivoted toward the front door again. Buffy sighed. She followed them as they began walking again. “Anyway,” Cordy continued, “I can’t believe you wore black, Harm. It’s my signature color.”

“At least I didn’t wear blue jeans,” Harmony snorted delicately. “That’s Buffy’s new signature color.”

“Hey Buff,” Cordelia sneered, narrowing her hazel eyes at the blonde. “Maybe if you got a dog collar, you and Angel could be twins. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

***

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Angel demanded as Buffy sat down at one of the barstools.

She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. “You weren’t at the shop after school,” she said lamely.

He grunted, turning his attention back to the glasses he was washing.

Buffy fidgeted nervously. “So where were you?” she asked.

“Busy,” he said shortly.

“Angel,” she pled in a near whisper.

He braced his hands on the sink and shook his head. Brusquely, he wiped his hands on the dishtowel and threw it on the bar. “Pop, I’m takin’ a break,” he yelled in the general direction of his father.

Buffy followed him into a dingy back room. Cases of alcohol were stacked against the walls. He was careful to keep a good deal of distance between them. “Do you have any idea how stupid it was for you to come here alone at this time of night?” he demanded.

“I needed to talk to you,” she said pathetically.

“How did you get here?”

“I borrowed my dad’s car,” she said, willing herself not to cry. After the horrible day she had, she needed someone to be nice to her. Angel’s anger was almost more than she could take.

He raked a hand through his hair. “Okay, so you’re here. What do you want?”

To her own horror, tears did trickle down her cheeks. “Why are you so mad?” she asked.

“We’ve been subtle in public,” he bit out. “I was fine with that. We’re different. I know that. I tried to break things off ... “ He trailed off. “I should have broken it off,” he said firmly.

“I don’t want to break up,” she countered.

His head shot up and he glared at her with such loathing that Buffy thought she was going to die. “You’re ashamed of me,” he snapped. “You’re ashamed of everything we have.”

“I’m not – “

“I give you room, Buffy,” he nearly snarled. “I don’t push things in front of your nasty, fake little friends. I don’t go out of my way to talk to you in the halls or class. But today ... Today you wouldn’t even look in my general direction. You didn’t once come back to your locker for fear of running into me. You were so busy chasing after Cordelia and all those other bitches that I couldn’t get so much as a smile. I think I deserve some common fucking decency from you.”

“I didn’t mean to – “

“To what?” he yelled. “Be a bitch?”

“They’re my friends,” she said almost hysterically. “What do you want me to do?”

He was shaking with barely contained emotion as he walked toward her. He stopped just short of touching her. “I want you to love me half as much as I love you,” he whispered.

She started crying in earnest and leaned into him. With a strangled sound, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her gently. He buried his face in her hair. “I do love you, Buffy,” he whispered hoarsely.

“I love you,” she sniffled.

***

Buffy hadn’t realized until Angel stood her up at the garage just how much she did love him and how terrified she was of losing him. Suddenly what Cordelia and her band of bitches thought didn’t matter so much, or not nearly as much as Angel thought. The next morning, she breezed past the girls, who were huddled in their usual gossip circle, without saying a word. She strolled over to the side of the building near the benches where Angel and his friends hung out.

She casually strolled over, wearing his leather jacket. He looked up in shock to see her sauntering towards him. His mouth dropped open when she slid into his lap and stole a kiss from him.

“Morning Angel,” she purred against his mouth.

“Uh…hi,” he managed, swallowing harshly. Angel didn’t need to glance at his friends to know they all wore the same shit eating grins. It wasn’t the every day that a beautiful, popular girl crawled into the lap of a Dingo.

“Hey Willow,” Buffy said, drawing the attention of the redhead. Each second of the morning was getting better and better. Buffy flashed her a bright smile.

“Why?” Willow blurted. Oz squeezed her hand to comfort her, which only made her whirl her head to look at him. She struggled not to squirm. Buffy was of the popular crowd and legally couldn’t even talk to her without a specific reason. “I mean, hi,” Willow amended, raising her hand in a half-hearted wave.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to Bronze it on Wednesday night when the boys play,” she asked intertwining her fingers with Angel’s.

“S-sure, I guess,” Willow agreed, bewildered.

“Good,” she said, grinning. “I’ve missed too many concerts already.” When the bell rang, she hopped up and smiled down at Angel. “Walk me to class?”

“Fucking strange day in the ‘Dale,” Devon said, stalking by and eyeing Buffy. “Dude, I think I’ll ask Cordy out again.”

***

Angel was trying to get his Calculus homework finished, but he couldn’t muster any enthusiasm. It was already late. Going to sleep had never sounded quite so tempting. He’d worked on the car for a while with Buffy, but had to cut it short to make band practice. As usual his father was on his case about not pulling his own weight and to top it off, he had an English paper to write after the math.

There was a knock on his door and Angel’s expression turned murderous. He pushed himself out of the chair in front of his small desk. He was yelling by the time he was on his feet. “I already said I’m not helping out at the bar to-“ He went stone still as he opened the door. “ ... nite,” he finished.

He stuck his head out in the hall and looked down the length of the small trailer he shared with his father. Nope, the old man was nowhere to be seen. He grabbed her hand and pulled her in his room, shutting and locking the door. “Buffy, what are you doing here?” he asked, trying to sound chastising, but failing miserably. Damn, she looked good. She’d obviously showered and changed after working on the car. She was dressed in a pair of low slung jeans. She still wore his jacket, but it was unzipped and he could see the tiny, skin-tight red tanktop she was wearing underneath.

“I wanted to see you,” she said with a smile. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squealed when he lifted her just an inch off the ground, enough to carry her across the tiny room to his bed. He climbed on the bed over her and settled in the natural cradle between her thighs. He kissed her gently, allowing himself just a small taste. He wanted to spend the whole night in her arms. He groaned into her neck in irritation.

“You can’t stay long, baby,” he said, kissing her neck. Even if his mountain of homework wasn’t beckoning, he knew he would be screwed if his father caught her there. He would never keep the woman he loved within fifty feet of his father if could avoid it.

“Then leave with me,” she suggested, wrapping her legs around his waist. “I wanna be with you.”

He leaned down and cupped her breast, biting her nipple through the clinging cotton. She keened, arching against his mouth. “Yes,” she sighed and smiled.

Angel gave up in defeat and peeled the tank up to reveal her flesh. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against her skin, “so perfect.”

“Angel!” a banging sounded on his door along with his father’s gruff shout.

Angel hastily pulled Buffy’s tank top down and shouted back. “One second!”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Angel whispered, pulling to her feet. There weren’t many places to hide. He opened the closet door as his father started shouting again.

“Stop jacking off and open the fucking door, Angel!”

“Yeah, Pop! One more second,” he shouted. He got Buffy into the closet when his father kicked in the hollow wooden door.

“So this little slut is what all that homework was about?” he demanded. “What’s her name? Calculus?”

“Sorry Mr. Roarke, I just stopped by and interrupted-“ Buffy was more terrified now than she was the first time she saw him. This time he was swaying drunkenly and Angel carefully tucked her behind him protectively.

“Shut up!” Roarke shouted. “Get the fuck out. You can spread your skinny little thighs for my son later.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Angel said in a low voice. Buffy thought she had seen Angel angry before, but he wasn’t. This was angry. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth set in a scowl.

“Protecting her?” Roarke laughed drunkenly. “Get her out and go tend bar. Now.”

Coming to blows with his father was nothing new, but Angel wasn’t about to go a couple rounds with Buffy present. She might be spoiled, but at her core, she was innocent and gentle. Her father was one of the most doting parents Angel had ever seen. He didn’t want her to see the ugliness of his life.

Angel nodded curtly and his father seemed placated for the moment. They listened as his footsteps retreated down the hall. When the door to his room slammed shut, Angel grabbed Buffy’s hand and pulled her out the door.

***

Buffy unlocked the car door and looked up at Angel. He was staring out into the night, his jaw clenched so tightly she could see the muscles jump. Cautiously, she reached out, splaying her hand across his stomach.

He looked down at her hand and slowly reached up to twine his fingers through hers.

“Come home with me,” she said softly.

Angel looked at her for a split second with naked longing, but it was gone so quickly she wasn’t sure she’d seen it at all. He snorted, gently disentangling their fingers. “I have to work,” he said, trying to sound offhand. “Go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow. And we’ll have tomorrow night at the Bronze.”

She wasn’t going to let him do this. He wasn’t going to push her away, even if he thought he was doing it for her own good. She moved, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her ear over his heart. “Come home with me. Please, Angel.”

He hugged her back, holding her tightly. “Sweetheart, your dad’s home.” He laughed mirthlessly. “Normally that wouldn’t be a problem, but I actually like your dad. Quite a bit. I doubt he’d appreciate me sneaking in your room.”

She looked up at him. “Please.” She could see his resolve waver and quickly continued. “He sleeps like the dead, Angel. And his room is on the other side of the house. He’ll never know.”

Reluctantly, Angel smiled down at her. “I still have Calculus to do.”

“I’ll do it,” she chirped.

He rolled his eyes. “I would like to actually graduate.”

“Hey!” she smacked him playfully on the chest. “Okay, so I’m not going to do it. But I bet I could talk Willow into it.”

“Fine,” he said, giving her a playful squeeze.

She laughed, bouncing up on the balls of her feet. Her excitement, however, was cut short. “Are you going to be in trouble?” she asked quietly.

Angel snorted. “I’m always in trouble.”

Buffy gently placed her hand on his cheek and made him look at her. “Will your dad ... do anything?”

“Like beat the shit out of me?” Angel asked ruefully. He saw the hurt on Buffy’s face and immediately regretted his coarse words. He shrugged. “It depends on his mood,” he admitted. “He doesn’t have any problem with knocking me around, but he doesn’t do it so much now that I hit back.”

Buffy was quiet for a moment and then hugged him tighter. “I love you.”

***

Angel was scowling as he crawled in her bedroom window. “I still think this is a dumb idea,” he said in a harsh whisper.

“Really?” she asked unrepentantly, grinning as she watched the way his muscles flexed. “Because I was just thinking this is the best idea I’ve ever had.”

Angel snorted in dismissal and looked around. Her bedroom was almost the size of his whole trailer. Her full size bed with its ivory pillows and comforter looked like heaven when he compared it to his own narrow twin. Everywhere he looked Buffy’s personality seemed to blossom out in vibrant colors and exquisite taste. He smiled at a little stuffed pig that was perched on the pillows.

Heaving a burdened sigh, he turned around to face her. “Buffy, I should-“

This time, his jaw did drop open and his stomach clenched violently in arousal. He was fairly certain he stopped breathing. Her body was only barely covered in a white silk negligee that cupped her breasts teasingly and slinked over her body in a way that made his mouth go dry. She had let her hair loose from the clip she had it in and it fell over her shoulders and back in delicate waves.

She crossed the room in the sexiest saunter she could muster and pressed her barely covered body against his. Her hands smoothed over his chest as she placed hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

“Stay,” she whispered, caressing the rigid outline of his cock through his pants. He captured her lips hungrily and sucked her tongue greedily into his mouth. He pulled her tighter against him and kissed her for a long time, trying to slow down, to calm the hormones that spiked when he saw her in that meager bit of silk.

He made his way down her neck and then kissed the tops of her breasts, caressing them and then suckling her nipples until they could be seen through the light material. He looped his fingers through the spaghetti straps and took his time baring her body. She, on the other hand, was not so patient. She pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it in the middle of her room and immediately began tugging at the buttons on his Levi’s.

He caught her shaking hands and kissed her palms, then her fingertips. “I’ll stay,” he whispered. “Let’s just go slow, okay?”

She nodded, her eyes huge and trusting. The fact that she loved him so much was like a blow to the stomach, like a dream that he was afraid to wake up from. He leaned in and kissed her slowly and scooped her naked body into his arms. He laid her on gently on the bed and crouched over her, giving her warm, toe curling kisses.

“Are you sure you want this, Buffy?” he asked, cupping her cheek. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere if you want to wait.”

“I’m ready,” she answered softly. “I trust you, Angel. I love you.”

He couldn’t help but groan at her words. Damn, he loved this woman. Why exactly someone as perfect, beautiful and truly wonderful as Buffy Giles would bother wasting her time on him was a mystery. But it was a mystery he could live with.

He settled on his side next to her, his denim-clad leg insinuated between her silky smooth thighs. He’d seen beautiful women before, but none of them were like this. Buffy’s skin was so soft, so perfect. She didn’t smell like booze and cheap perfume. She smelled clean and flowery, with an undertone of her musky arousal that was just for him. His hands were rough and calloused, there was grime embedded so deep under his nails it would never scrub free ... yet she arched into his touch like she was made for him.

He kissed her for a long time, content to brush his lips against her, to feel her softness beneath his fingertips. But eventually, it wasn’t enough. She rolled him over onto his back and he complied without protest. He was so hard he was in physical pain. The front of his jeans was tented with the weight of his arousal. Carefully, Buffy inched the zipper downward. Together they managed to get his jeans down his legs so he could finally kick them off.

He gasped as her hand wrapped around his cock. She touched him lightly, her thumb playing over the head, which was slick with pre-ejaculate. He shuddered, his fingers tunneling through her hair as he pulled her close for a soul-searing kiss.

He rolled her back in the wealth of pillows and she went with perfect trust. Her hips cradled his naturally. He looked down at her, one of his large, calloused hands cupping her cheek.

“I love you,” she said with complete conviction, knowing that he was thinking he wasn’t good enough for her.

He kissed her again with such love and gratitude that it almost broke her heart. There was such a capacity for love within him, but it had been buried beneath a hard exterior for years. He positioned himself at her entrance and hissed in pleasure when he was barely inside her. She was just as hot and tight and deliriously silky as he dreamed she would be. Carefully, he stroked shallowly, moving in a bit further every time to allow her time to get used to the intrusion.

He rubbed her swollen nub in time with his movements, waiting for the pleasure before he gave her pain, but Buffy naturally fell into the rhythm and arched against him, moving up while he came down and together they breached the thin wall of her virginity, just shy of her orgasm. She gasped in pain and her fingers bit into his shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stilling his movements as he encouraged her climax to return. He kissed her long and hard, pouring his soul into her. “I won’t ever hurt you again.”

“You never hurt me,” she whispered back.

He moved inside her once more and minutes later she toppled over the edge, orgasming with moans so loud he had to kiss her to quiet. Her tight sheath clenched around him in throes of ecstasy and he released, spilling his seed inside her body.

***

"Are you certain Buffy is ready?"

Angel's head shot up and he stared at Giles, slack-jawed. Oh my god. How did Giles find out? He had carefully snuck out of Buffy's house an hour before dawn. No one saw. "Huh?"

"Her car," Giles said absently, thumbing through one of his old books. He looked up at Angel. "Are you certain that she understands the weight of the responsibility of ownership now?" He cocked his head as he looked at his young assistant. "I dare say, are you feeling well?"

"The car," Angel said nodding. "Uh, yeah. I think after having to get her hands that dirty she understands."

Giles didn't look convinced but he shrugged. "I suppose I'll defer to your opinion."

***

As soon as the final bell rang, Buffy located Angel in the parking lot, leaning against the side of Oz's van as the two chatted. As she approached, Oz tactfully disappeared and Buffy wrapped her arms around Angel's waist. While his arms came up to embrace her, he didn't look at her, staring off into nothing, a frown on his face.

"What's up?" Buffy asked cautiously.

Angel looked down at his girlfriend, his frown intensifying. "Your dad," he said tightly.

Buffy shook her head. "What about my dad?"

Sighing, Angel carefully extricated himself from her embrace and started pacing the narrow space between Oz's van and a late model Ford. "Buffy, your dad has been great to me."

She crossed her arms over her chest, cocking one hip as she looked at him. "He's been pretty good to me too," she said dryly. "What does this have to do with us?"

"I respect him," Angel explained. "And I don't think that it's very forthright of me to play all nice with him to his face and then sneak into his house and nail his only daughter while he's sleeping down the hall."

Buffy rolled her eyes. Oh yes, her boyfriend was such a bad boy. "He knows there's something going on with us," she said blandly.

"That's not the same."

Buffy threw up her arms in exasperation. "So tell him we're dating," she said. "It's not like he's going to have a coronary or anything."

"I don't think you're being very reasonable about this," Angels said sharply.

"No," Buffy continued, advancing on him predatorily. "You're the one who's not being reasonable." She resumed her place in his arms once again, pushing herself up on her tippy toes to place a hard kiss against his jaw. "My dad likes you. A lot. He's not going to be upset that we're dating."

Angel shook his head. "If I was in his shoes, I wouldn't let me anywhere near you."

***

Buffy swayed in time with the band, sitting next to Willow at the Bronze that evening. She was beginning to like Willow more and more. She wasn’t anything like Cordelia and the rest of her airhead friends. She was sweet and ridiculously smart. Her brain, however, wasn’t nearly as big as her heart.

“I think I’m a groupie,” Willow said, beaming at Oz while he played guitar along with the rest of Dingoes Ate My Baby.

“Me too,” Buffy grinned. The guys ended their song and Devon announced a set break. Buffy’s smile widened and her stomach twisted in anticipation. She was still amazed that just seeing him walk in her direction could make her heart pound. Buffy’s grin faded as she saw Cordelia and Harmony sidling over to their table with very familiar snotty looks on their faces. She steeled her resolve and met their eyes defiantly.

They arrived at the table the same time as Angel and Oz, and Cordelia snorted in disgust. “Guess we’re just in time to meet the trash. Shouldn’t you be under a car hood somewhere?”

“Cordelia, shut up!” Buffy snarled. She rose to her feet despite Willow’s death grip on her arm. “You know what? You are a sheep, Cordy.”

Cordelia stuck her chin out. “I’m not a sheep.”

“You’re a sheep,” she repeated. “All you ever do is what everyone else does just so you can say you did it first and here I am, scrambling for your approval, when I’m way cooler than you are cause I’m not a sheep.”

Buffy stepped in closer, oblivious to her audience and the people stepping in to listen. “I’ll date whoever I want to date,” Buffy growled. “You’re just jealous because you underestimated Angel. I got the best guy in the whole damn school and you’re still picking through the scraps.”

Buffy turned toward Angel and grabbed his hand before stomping away. They were halfway through the Bronze when she started to hyperventilate. “Oh gods,” she cried in panic.

“You’re going to be okay, baby,” he said soothingly. “Just keep walking.”

“They’re never going to speak to me again,” she wailed. She turned to face him, eyes wide.

“I’m so proud of you,” he murmured kissing her lips. “And the sheep’ll talk to you again. I wouldn’t be so lucky for them not to.”

***

Friday afternoon, Buffy barely had gotten out of her last class, when Angel met her and lead her to the nearest supply closet. She grinned at his anxiousness, but all thoughts quickly disappeared when he slid his hands up her skirt and delved between her thighs. Two minutes later, she was wrapped around his waist.

"Yes," Buffy gasped, her fingernails digging into the nape of his neck, pressing his forehead against her collarbone. She shifted her legs around his waist as he drove inside her again and again. She tightened around him intentionally, rolling her hips as best she could. He choked her name, his rhythm faltering as he thrust one final time.

It was quiet and dark, the only noise their harsh breathing. He groaned, nuzzling against her jaw before setting her gently on her feet. He took a step back, leaning against one of the industrial shelving units that lined the interior of the supply closet. With what looked like an inordinate amount of effort, he tucked himself away and re-buttoned his jeans.

Buffy smiled as she stepped into her panties and smoothed down her skirt. She loved that she had the ability to tire him out. Pushing off from the wall, she pressed herself against his chest, rubbing her cheek against him like a cat. "What's the plan for tonight?" she asked.

He groaned, easily reading the teasing lilt in her voice. He'd chickened out about talking to her father and while Buffy was fine with it, she thought it was inordinately amusing that he was worrying about it so much. But the fact that he hadn't formally spoken with Giles also affected their plans for the dance. Angel couldn't very well make out in public with Buffy at a function her father was chaperoning.

"Oz can drop us by the shop tonight," he said. "Your car's finished. You can give me a ride home after the dance."

"Oh really?" she asked, and then giggled. "I thought I just gave you a ride."

He smiled carnally, wrapping his arms around her. "Trust me, baby," he whispered, "I'm good for multiple outings in a day."

Buffy smacked a kiss against his lips playfully. “You get Oz & Will, so I can make myself pretty in case we run into my Dad?”

She shivered as his eyes swept over her, making out her disheveled clothes, her swollen, warm lips and her mussed hair. He thought she never looked more beautiful. He nodded in agreement and they eased out of the closet, heading their separate ways.

He made it four steps from their rendezvous point when a thought hit him that made him stagger back against the wall. He ran a hand through his wild spiked hair and fought to breathe. It never, not even once, occurred to him that he should use protection with Buffy. He swore, squeezing his eyes shut. Mostly because of the women he’d been with, condoms were used to protect him, not them. His concerned for this talk with Giles just bumped up from nailing his daughter to knocking her up.

*****