Summary: Buffy's thoughts after the episode 'Angel' (season 1) ends. I'm not really sure where this is going to take me.

*-Defining moments-*

"Night, Will." I say with a wave as she unlocks the front door to her house and disappears inside. I walk along the sidewalk slowly. I flip my stake up in the air and catch it behind my back. I once thought about trying out for the drill team at Hemery High. It was part of the band though, and that just wasn't cool. Somehow my thoughts drift from Hemery High's drill team to Angel. This really isn't that far of a jump considering I've been thinking about him approximately every 2.3 seconds.

He looked so pitiful and pained when I left him at the Bronze. I almost caved in. I considered for a moment going back to his arms, laying my hand on his cheek and saying "Don't worry, I'll stay for always." That would have been playing way to easy to get though. I might as well have put a sign on my forehead that says Hello, I'm a great big Ho. Or I could just borrow some of Cordy's clothes.

Giles is probably still in the library hitting the books. He's trying to find some incident of another vampire staking their sire. He insists that it's just not done. I figure it has to have been done before. I mean come on, you live centuries with someone and you don't decide one day you've had enough of them leaving their socks all over the place so you just stake them. Besides, if I think about him staking his sire, something that's just not done, for me, it's going to drive me crazy. I'm going to start making assumptions and those assumptions are going to lead to crazy daydreams about dates and love and making out, ok time to stop the madness Buffy. See what I mean?

I shimmy up the tree to my window. I listen for Mom's soft snoring from the other room and jump nimbly through the window. I switch on the radio, letting it play softly and change into my pj's. I've got history homework to finish. Could there be anything duller then civil war history. I mean really. History is ancient, which leads me back to thoughts of Angel. He's ancient too, but God so much more interesting then the civil war. I close my book and flop on my back in the bed. I might as well give into thoughts of him. I feel a tingling at the base of my spine and just as I sit up I hear him.

"You know, you really shouldn't sleep with your window open."

I smile and turn around. He's sitting on my window sill like a great big, beautiful cat. I get up and walk over to him, concern of causing a skanky ho image put aside. "But then I wouldn't get unexpected midnight visitors."

"If I can get up here other things can too, things that don't need an invitation." He warns.

"I can take care of myself, Angel. You know, if you came by just to give me dire warnings, I'm really tired." I sigh. 241 years old, you would think he'd learn a little more about women or relationships, or something, but then he probably ate all his ex girlfriends.

"No, Buffy. Listen, I don't want to fight. I'll just go." He turns and I make a leap across the room, my hand just brushing his shoulder.

"Angel, wait. I'm sorry." Seeing him throws me. It flip flops my stomach, tingles my spine and makes me feel altogether to hot. God, Buffy, you've got it bad. I notice a burn on his chest, right under his throat. "Angel, what happened? Were you attacked?" I start to rummage through my overnight stand for a stake and a bottle of holy water.

He chuckles. It's a deep rumbley sound and is there anything this man does that doesn't turn me to a puddle of Buffy?

"No, I-it's from earlier tonight, when you kissed me."

My fingers fly to the large silver cross, the cross he gave me, that I wear around my neck. I smack myself in the forehead. "Oh, God! No wonder you look like you were in so much pain. I'm sorry. You should have said something."

He looks straight into my eyes. He looks straight into me and somehow I know he sees me like no one else ever has, or ever will. Have you ever had one of those moments where you know your life is changed forever? Defining moments, I think they call them. My calling was one of those moments; this is one of them too.

"It's okay. It was worth it."

Tears rush to my eyes. I can't even respond to that. I grab the cross and pull it off. I toss it on the dresser. A slow smile spreads across his face. I step into the circle of his arms. His cool lips are on my, his big hands stroke my back and I am instantly aware that I'm not wearing a bra. Kissing Angel is like falling and knowing he'll be there to catch me. When he finally pulls away, I'm breathless.

"I should probably go. You've got school in the morning." He traces the shape of my lips with his forefinger.

I nod, totally unable to actually speak.

"I just wanted to make sure you got home okay." He says, crouching in the window, ready to leave.

"I'm-really good." I manage to say.

He smiles this really adorable fallen angel grin and I melt.

"Sweet dreams," He says before disappearing into the night.

I crawl into bed with this huge smile on my face. Oh yeah, sweet dreams.