Title: Flighty

Rating PG-13 for some smoochies

Pairing: B/A

Summary: Just a little lost scene sometime after What's My Line but before S/I. Pure fluff written for Leni because she's always begging like that grin

"Really, Buffy, you mustn't be so flighty," Giles said.

Buffy pouted. She was sixteen years old. Flighty was like the definition of a sixteen year old but not she couldn't be flighty. She had to be all world-savey and responsibility having.

"Alright, I'll be more reliable, dependable and all those words that describe dogs. That'll be me, Buffy the dog," she said.

"Buffy, you must always be on the alert. The Hellmouth has proven time and again that it will spew out the most evil things when you least expect it," Giles warned.

"Eww with the spewing. I get it, Giles. I'm gonna go patrol and try to make sure Sunnydale stays spew free," Buffy said. She stalked out of the library, stake in hand.

The cemeteries were noticeably quiet as Buffy traipsed through them, muttering under her breath.

"Not like I'm going to parties with all the other cool kids, not even like I'm cool. Nooo, I'm taking the brand of Buffy the Freak so that I can save the world," she muttered.

"Someone giving you a hard time?" He asked as he flowed out of the shadows to stand beside her.

The smile that spread across her face came as unbidden as the tingly tangly feeling in her bones. "Angel," she said.

He gave her that little half grin that made her heart skip a beat and her breath catch. He tucked his hands in his pockets and fell into step beside her.

She shrugged. "It's just, Giles-he-he thinks I'm flighty," she said.

Angel's brow furrowed as if this were a serious world in peril thing. "Has something happened?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Nope, all's quiet on the western front or cold front or some front, anyway you know how he is with the duty and the destiny."

Angel nodded. "He just wants you to be careful," he said.

"But I am! Careful, really. I'm all Care girl here, he just-I don't know-he wants me to be Kendra or someone not me," Buffy said.

Angel chuckled and caught up her hand with his. Their fingers entwined and he pulled her hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles. "Buffy, he doesn't want you to be Kendra. He just wants to make sure you're always prepared for anything the Hellmouth-"

"If you say spew I'm gonna…spew," she said.

Angel cocked an eyebrow at her and gave her that I will never understand you look. "I was going to say anything the Hellmouth throws at you…" he trails off.

"I know but I am prepared! Honestly! I'm as prepared as prepared can be! Sometimes I just wanna be a girl! I just wanna paint my nails and gossip about my boyfriend," Buffy railed to the empty night sky.

Angel rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in slow, rhythmic patterns. They slowed their pace to a near stop and he pulled Buffy into his arms. He bent his head, his lips finding hers. Buffy relaxed against him, letting him take on her full weight. His fingers gripped her waist, squeezing tightly before creeping up, dancing across her stomach. He trailed his fingers up her ribcage slowly, as if he were counting each rib.

Buffy nipped at his bottom lip and wrapped her hands around his neck, tugging him down closer to her. She took a sharp breath as Angel's hand brushed the curve of her breast. He quickly slid his hand down to her hip. She smiled against his mouth and slipped her tongue out to taste him, cool and spicy. He responded by tilting his head, deepening the kiss. He grazed her bottom lip with his teeth. She exhaled a breathy version of his name and it was his undoing. They were quite suddenly lying on the wet grass and Buffy was gasping for breath.

"Whoa," she panted.

Angel flung himself away from her body, averted his eyes from her heaving chest. He ducked his head and grinned. "Sorry, I got carried away."

Buffy rolled onto her stomach and rested the point of her chin on Angel's chest.

"No, carried away is good but we wouldn't want to be flighty."