Title: Backseat Driver

Author: uskohakuchan

Summary: Buffy helps Angel with his artist's block.

Author's Note: This is crack. Complete and utter crack. Enjoy, though. More oneshots to come. I have two or three more.

The trashcan shook with the thump of yet another crumpled ball landing inside it. Angel let out a loud sigh and leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing against his chest.

“Whatcha doin, Angel?”

Angel looked up, his frown momentarily disappearing as he gazed at his girlfriend. Buffy walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek.

“So what’s with the frowny face?”

“I’m just trying to finish up my portfolio, but I can’t seem to get an idea for my last picture,” he said, his gaze travelling towards his failed attempts scattered in, and around, the garbage can.

“Just leave it out. That’s what I would do,” she said, fixing her hair.

“Yeah, and you would fail,” he snapped.

“Well sorry for making a joke. I should’ve known better than to bother you when it’s that time of the month,” Buffy spat, stomping towards the kitchen.

Angel stood up immediately and followed her to kitchen, intending to apologize.

“Buffy, I’m sorry. I’m just a little stressed,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist as she spooned yogurt into her mouth.

“Yeah, I know. But good news for you I’m chock-full-of ideas. Like that coffee.”

“That’s chock-full-of-nuts, babe. Not ideas,” he corrected, smiling into her hair. He reached down and stole a spoonful of yogurt and she gave a light protest, hitting him in the arm softly.

“Eww, that’s a gross name. Chock-full-of-nuts, that’s like an all dude party. Chock-full-of-nuts.” She shivered against him and he laughed.

“Well, Mrs. Chock-full-of-Ideas, what ideas do you have?” he asked, his voice light and teasing

“Well,” she replied in the same tone and smiling up at him, “Get, your pencil ready Mr. Artist, you’re gonna wanna write this down.”

Angel walked back to his desk and sat down, pencil at the ready.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Okay, so the monkey’s going to be on the ceiling and the little baby boy’s going to be on the edge of the couch, almost about to fall and-”

“Wait,” Angel said, cutting her off, “Buffy this makes no sense. What, what is this?”

“It’s your last piece for your portfolio, duh, silly,” she said, looking at him as if he was crazy.

“Buffy, this makes no sense. Why would I draw a monkey on a ceiling? Why would a baby boy be on the edge of a couch?”

“Because that’s where he’s supposed to be. And the monkey’s not gonna be on the ceiling for no reason. That’s why the baby will be on the edge of the couch,” she explained, emphasizing each word as if it were difficult to understand.

“Yeah, I get that. It makes perfect sense,” Angel stated, shaking his head. “So, why is the monkey on the ceiling again?”

She sighed, putting her hands on her hips and tapping her foot loudly. “Because, Angel, he’s a flying monkey, and flying monkeys save the world, so he’s flying around the ceiling because he’s about to save the baby boy. Is that clear enough for you now?”

He looked at her, his eyes widening at the completely placid look on her face. “Yeah, it’s much more, um, clear. But I’m sorry Buffy, I can’t draw that. It’s um, just not my style?”

Buffy’s face grew darker, her eyes falling and her mouth turning downwards. She turned away from him and began to walk away.

“You know, you could just say you don’t like it. I’m going to bed, Angel. Goodnight,” she said as she walked towards the bedroom.

Angel sighed, running his fingers through her hair. Normally, he’d go to apologize and perhaps make it up to her in the bedroom, but he had to get his last piece done in two days.

Leaning forward, he began to draw. Three hours later, he’d thrown out four more failed drawings. Groaning he stood up, preparing to turn in.

He made his way to the bathroom and looked in on Buffy as he passed. She was sound asleep curled up around Mr. Gordo, like he was her safety blanket. He smiled at the sight and walked into the bathroom. As he was brushing his teeth, it suddenly came to him.

He ran back into the office, getting to work.

“Mmm, I’m still mad at you,” Buffy said as Angel led her down the stairs.

“I know, I know, but please just look at it and don’t hate it just because I’m an asshole,” Angel begged, as they continued down the stairs.

“Oh, fine.”

They walked on until Angel stopped her. Turning her around he, untied the blindfold.

“Oh my god, do you know how much I love you?” Buffy exclaimed.

Angel smiled as he looked at from her to his painting of the “Flying Monkey Saving a Baby.”

It was his last piece for his portfolio or second to last. But he’d turn that in later, right now it was a surprise for Buffy.

“I can’t believe you actually drew it. You really are the best boyfriend ever. Really,” she said, kissing him all over his face.

“I have another gift for you,” he said, moving away from her to grab his portfolio.

“It’s just a sketch at the moment, but I think you’ll like it,” he said, handing her the book.

Buffy flipped through the pages of art until she reached the last page. Her eyes widened and she looked back at Angel as if searching for confirmation that the image was actually there.

“That looks like me, except way, way prettier. God, Angel it’s beautiful.”

Angel had drawn a sketch of Buffy and Mr. Gordo asleep in his bed. She loved it except…

“Angel, I saw that episode of Scrubs. JD is just plain creepy when he watches his girlfriend while she sleeps. Please don’t tell me you do the same thing.”

“No, no, no, NO. Believe it or not, I saw that episode too. I was just passing you on the way to the bathroom and you looked so cute. I couldn’t resist.”

She kissed him on the cheek and grabbed his hand, beginning to walk back towards the stairs.

“So what made you draw the monkey picture if you drew that picture of me?”

“Well, I needed something to make you forgive me. Believe it or not, I don’t like sleeping on the couch and like most men; I don’t like being deprived of sex.”

“Perv.”