Title: Perfection

Rating: G

Summary: Part 3 of the Shanshu Series. Buffy finds out that sometimes life is perfect.

Feedback: Please!

The waves slap at the sand and I'm tempted to get up and take a dip in the ocean, but no that would require moving and that's really not something I'm willing to do right now. The sun is hot on my skin but I luxuriate in it. It makes me sleepy and that's okay because the Slayer is on vacation, nothing to slay, no world in peril stuff, unless you count that my margarita is empty. I frown and open my eyes. The sight that greets me brings tears to my eyes. I wonder if it will ever stop making me teary and then I think maybe I don't want it to. I don't want to ever stop losing my breath when I see him. I don't ever want to stop feeling that tingle tangle at the base of my spine. I don't ever want to stop knowing that dying twice, losing friends, crying oceans of tears, it was worth it. Every single bit of pain, worth this one moment.

Angel is stretched out on the blanket beside me. He is so pale he glows in the sun but I have never seen a more beautiful sight in my entire life. He's lying there on his stomach with this perfect contented smile on his face. I've never seen him smile like that. My Angel, the one I'm used to, has one smile. It's the smile he gives when he's looking at me. This Angel, the one with multiple smiles, is as new to me as the beating heart, the warm breath and skin. On this trip I've found out he has a smile for when he's content, a smile for when he's happy, one for when he's merely amused and this Angel laughs, really full out, loud, belly laughs. It's a wonderful sound. I can't help reaching out to touch him. I've got to make sure he's real because this is how he always looks in all my dreams, glowing in the perfect sunlight. He opens his eyes, shielded by dark glasses, and captures my hand. He places a kiss on the knuckles.

I swallow hard. "Oh God, this is real isn't it?" I ask and the tears creep into my voice making it waver.

"It's real and if it's not, I don't care if my brain is being sucked by a monster to take over the world, I don't want it to stop, ever" he says.

"Haha! You owe me five bucks!" I giggle and shout at the top of my lungs.

Angel groans. "I forgot," he admits.

"Still owe me five bucks. You know if you keep this up, I could get rich on our honeymoon" I tease.

We made an agreement when we flew here, no mentioning monsters, demons, slaying or apocalypses. If you did, you had to pay the other person five dollars for each mention.

"You know, you mentioned world ending and monster. That could be counted as two mentions, thus bringing what you owe me up to ten dollars" I say with a grin.

"I'll make you a deal, you forget my debt and I'll go get you another margarita" Angel says.

No fair. He knows I don't want to move.

I giggle. "Deal," I say forking over my empty glass.

I watch him walk up to the beach side bar. I can't help it. If we live to be two hundred, that's in human years because I'm not counting all the years he spent not breathing, I will never get tired of watching him. He's my own personal living, breathing miracle.

Angel stands at the bar waiting for the margarita. He looks comfortable and happy here. He was apprehensive about coming to Jamaica for our honeymoon. He'd never flown and then he was worried about the excess of sun. I said we could buy Dramine and an excess of sunscreen. He wanted to go somewhere like England. I wrinkled my nose and promptly told him no way. We were going to start our life together with as much light as possible. He still didn't buy it. Then I mentioned the itsy bitsy teeny weeny black bikini I'd bought for the trip. He was sold. Of course then I had to go out and actually buy the tiny scraps of cloth I'm wearing. I couldn't have him knowing it was all a ploy.

Angel slips up beside me and wraps my hand around the frosty margarita glass. I smile and take a sip. I have to hold my breath a moment. Who knew life could be drenched in perfection like this? I always assumed pain and torment were synonyms for life, apparently not really. And this fact is brought to the front yet again when I feel Angel's lips tickle down my spine. I giggle and smile in that lazy Cheshire Cat way.

"Mr. O' Connor, are you going to take advantage of my slightly intoxicated state?" I ask with a very fake southern drawl.

I feel him smile against my sun warmed skin.

"Every chance I get, Mrs. O' Connor" Angel says in the same fake southern accent.

I giggle as he scoops me up in his arms. He starts for our cottage and I almost forget that we're leaving our towels and my huge beach bag behind, almost.

"Angel, our stuff" I say breathlessly because he's ministering kisses to my clavicle.

"Leave it. I'll buy you new stuff" he growls against my skin.

"Angel, passports, no passports no going home" I gasp as he bites down on the joining of my shoulder and neck.

"And staying here for the rest of our lives would be so bad" he murmurs.

When he's got a point, he's got a point.