TITLE: Laundry Day

AUTHOR: Ragna

writinggoddess@aol.com

RATING: PG-13/light R for sexual references

CLASSIFICATION: Past Buffy/Angel.

SUMMARY: Buffy remembers her first time, her best time, at a time when she craves normalcy.

SPOILERS: Set in season 6, prior to "Once More With Feeling."

DISTRIBUTION: Any sites with my fic up; you all have unspoken permission. I write it, you can post it. Everyone else just keep my name on it and let me know.

DISCLAIMER: If you don't recognize it, chances are it's my own creation. If you do, I don't own it. Joss Whedon, Kazui Sandollar, The WB, UPN, et. al. most likely do. The lyrics to "But Not Tonight" belong originally to Depeche Mode (awesome band), but the version I heard was sung by Scott Weiland on the "Not Another Teen Movie" soundtrack.

FEEDBACK: Please send it offlist and let me know it's feedback; I do rapid delete on my account due to a lot of spam.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Went to Challenge In A Can (http://www.dymphna.net/challenge/) for this one, since I hardly write B/A and I *really* needed the inspiration. I was provided with "Buffy," "lonely" and "shirt."



Laundry Day
By Ragna
***

Buffy felt lonely. She always felt lonely. She'd been ripped from Heaven...maybe it was Heaven, she wasn't sure...and here she was again, in this house, with all it's memories.

Couldn't she have just been left alone? She was happy. She was peaceful. And she needed that feeling again, she needed that void to be filled.

This house, so full of activity most days, tended to drive her crazy. She'd ordered everyone out tonight, thinking that once the house was quiet and she could be normal, the void will fill again, just a little. She was wrong.

It was laundry day, she remembered. Willow had gotten everyone into a routine while Buffy was...dead. The routine was a stable thing, something that helped everyone move forward on a day to day basis. But since Buffy had kicked everyone out of the house, laundry day would be forgotten.

Buffy shook her head at that thought. No, it wouldn't. The whole point of having the house to herself was to be normal, right? Routine was normal...she'd do the laundry. She went from room to room, hauling hampers and piles of clothing down into the basement. She did know how to do laundry; it was a skill she was glad her mother had imparted upon her.

She turned on the portable CD player she kept down there, put the CD on random play and picked a shirt up out of one of the piles. Light stuff first, she decided, picking up one of Dawn's bras.

// Oh God, it's raining
But I'm not complaining
It's filling me up
With new life \\

She started to plow through Dawn's basket, noting that her sister was wearing more colors now than she did before, but they were all darker. The same with Willow and Tara. Hadn't everyone worn lighter clothing before? Hadn't there been more white and beige and pastel, and not so much red and navy and black?

Finally she got to her own basket. Her wardrobe wasn't much different. But then she saw a two piece set at the bottom of her white mesh hamper. She'd worn it only a few times since her sixteenth birthday.

That night...the night that changed everything...

// The stars in the sky
Bring tears to my eyes
They're lighting my way
Tonight \\

He had held her. He felt warm, for some reason. It was almost as though she had willed his normally cold touch to be warm. Maybe it was because she was cold, and wet. It had been a cold night, and the jump into the river had not helped much at all.

He'd touched her in ways that she knew she shouldn't let him, but he loved her. She knew Angel loved her. And letting him touch her like that, so long as he loved her, then it was okay.

And she loved him just as much.

// And I haven't felt so alive
In years \\

The first kiss was so sweet, so pure, so simple. She'd never thought a simple kiss could stir up so much emotion. In the movies, it was the long kisses that looked so emotional, but the simple lip-to-lip contact of their kiss was enough for her to want to climb inside his heart and never go away.

There were so many words and phrases that she could use now to describe what that perfect moment had felt like, but then, she was speechless. There wasn't a reason to talk, anyways. It was enough to just...be. To be in that moment, with him.

// Just for a day
On a day like today
I'll get away from this
Constant debauchery \\

He taken off the sweater top, carefully, like he was afraid of his own strength. Like he would hurt her. Later, he did, but at the time neither of them thought that would ever happen. He was so careful with her that part of her wanted to cradle his face and tell him she was strong, she wouldn't break. The other part of her just cherished it.

And then...

// The wind in my hair
Makes me so aware
How good it is to live
Tonight \\

He had no shirt on, she was down to the camisole that she could now see peeking up at her from the very bottom of the laundry basket. He looked so perfect. And he was looking at her as if there was no one else worthy of his attention, then or forever after.

She wanted to blush, to conceal herself from his penetrating gaze. She was still clothed but felt naked. Never before had she felt like that. He'd never had that effect on her before.

So much was about to change...

// And I haven't felt so alive
In years \\

And then there were just the feelings. The palms of her hands touching his smooth, bare chest. The tips of his teeth at her neck, grazing at her pulse while he placed a kiss there. The top curves of her breasts pressed against his chest. The tips of his fingers playing at her hips at the waistband of her jeans.

And then, slowly, so agonizingly slowly, the last of the clothes were shed. She felt all of him, saw and heard the ecstatic pleasure that coursed through him. Just a simple touch from her did magic...

// The moon
Is shining in the sky
Reminding me
Of so many other nights
But they're not like tonight \\

And then he ran his hands down her sides. They were smooth as velvet, even if they were cold. It was as though someone was running a length of chilled silk down her legs and then in between them, giving her an intimate massage. There was need there, so much need, but he was restrained.

God, she wanted him to touch her everywhere, especially...even now she blushed at the thought. She didn't have the nerve that evening to tell him what she wanted but she didn't have to. They were linked. He just *knew* what she wanted, what she needed.

// Oh God, it's raining
And I'm not containing
My pleasure at being
So wet \\

And then there was the kissing. He never stopped kissing her. His lips were everywhere: her hands, her shoulders, her neck, her breasts, her navel, her thighs...

He was taking his time, making it memorable. Making it important. Making it perfect.

That night, their first, had to be perfect, she thought, because it was destiny.

// Here on my own
All on my own
How good it feels to be alone
Tonight \\

And when he finally slipped inside her, she gasped. It was a gasp of wonder, not of pain; he stayed still until she started to move, and they worked into a rhythm so natural that neither really thought about it. It was...

It built, and built, and when she reached the first peak, she thought she wouldn't survive another. And then she hit the second peak and was awestruck. If this was what making love was, she never wanted him to stop.

But eventually, it did. And she was sated, happy, pleased, filled, and safe. Warm and safe. And very sleepy, she remembered. Her last thought was that she just wanted to wake up with him beside her in the morning, kiss him, and thank him for being so wonderful.

// And I haven't felt so alive
In years \\

And then, to wake up in bed, alone, listening to the rain...

She remembered smelling the sheets, pulling them close, wondering when he'd be back. Wondering how to explain how much she loved him.

Wanting to experience it all again.

// The moon
Is shining in the sky
Reminding me
Of so many other nights
When my eyes have been so red
I've been mistaken for dead
But not tonight \\

The beginning of the wash cycle jarred her out of her memories, and she hurriedly threw in light clothing, hoping she didn't overfill the washer or throw in a red sock or something by mistake.

But she realized that, tonight, just for a moment, she'd felt normal again. And it was nice.


END