She was living with a vampire. Oh man, this was weird. But, good weird. She sighed, walking up the stairs to Angel’s apartment and using her brand spanking new set of keys, opened the door.
Sliding it open, she couldn’t resist. “Honey, I’m home!"
He poked his head out from the door. “Hey!" He gave her a quick kiss. “Doyle was just here. He says that he’s only gonna put up with the couple goo goo eyed mushy stuff for a week, so we better make the most of it."
She smiled. “Saw Willow off." She reported. “No work tonight?"
He shook his head. “Los Angeles is okay. Doyle is patrolling, but nothing big."
They fell silent, hands in pockets.
“So what now?" He asked. She shrugged, crossing her arms.
“Well, we could, you know, go on a date." she said.
He raised an amused eyebrow. “We’re a little past that, don’t you think?"
“No." She returned, wryly giving him a mock glare. “I want courtship, Mr. soul guy. I want candle lit dinners, and bouquets of roses, and Barry Manilow."
“Barry Manilow?" He winced. “Can we compromise?"
She thought for a minute, then nodded acquiescing. “Fine. Boys II Men, the old stuff, and if you act like a gentleman, and not a GRRR, you just might be able to ask me to stay the night."
“Now *that’s* where I draw the line." he said quickly, getting up slide her arms around her waist. He leaned down, nipping at the crook of her neck with his teeth. “You," he began between kisses, “Will be in my bed now, and every night, from now on."
She groaned when his lips covered hers.
“Fine." She relented somewhat weakly when he had kissed her long and thoroughly. “but if you insist on making me a kept woman, I will demand certain privileges."
“Oh, Lord." he groaned. She grinned kissing his chin.
“Now, where’s should we eat?"
“What do you mean where?"
“Meaning, as in I don’t cook." He chuckled, groaning.
“That’s right, I forgot I had a high maintenance girlfriend." She raised an eyebrow. “There’s a great little Irish pub-"
“Irish? You want me to eat potatoes and beer. How many pounds do you think I’m gonna gain?"
“None. You’ll be eating with a lucky man. We don’t gain."
“As in Lucky charms?" She shrugged. “Well you are magically delicious."
He gave her a glare. “No. You've never heard about the luck of the Irish, have you?" He asked, grinning a wicked grin.
She rolled her eyes. "Angel, you aren't exactly the role model for that saying."
His smile faltered, but he continued, a small pout forming on his lips. "I still say you haven't lived until you tried Irish food."
She cocked her head. "Fine." she huffed, and as she crossed her arms, she gave him a sly grin. "But see, Italian delivers. We can order in." At that exact moment, she sat down, allowing her skirt to ride up just a tad, exposing a little more skin.
He looked, his eyes darkening, and then he seemed to relent immediately, pulling her body to his. "And Italian it is." He remarked quickly.
She gave him a smug smile. "See? that just proves my point."
He gave her a confused grin. "Which is?"
Her answer was a proud smirk. "Men, and Vampires, are so eas-"
He cut her off then, and the last thing she heard before his lips covered hers was a laugh.
FIN