TITLE: When He Was Bad, He Was Rotten


EMAIL: lex@bitchenvy.com

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. PoJ (Property of Joss).

This is happyfic. <Lex looks around as the fanfic reading world drops dead from shock.> No, _really_. This is honest to goodness happyfic, with humor thrown in. Very low on the Angst-O-Meter.

SPOILERS: No Innocence. No Passion. No B*coming. To quote my Startling Six sister, Pandora, "Never saw 'em. Never happened."

Angel/Buffy cuteness. Everybody say "Awwwwwww".

Angel shifted in his sleep, instinctively seeking out the warmth of his girlfriend lying next to him. When his hand encountered nothing but cold linen, he unwillingly cracked open an eye.

"Buffy?" he murmurmed, wanting nothing more in the world than to fall back asleep, clutching his blonde goddess in his arms.

"I'm in the bathroom, babe. I have to get going if I'm going to make class." She was yelling, in order to be heard over the sound of water running.

He grumbled. This whole high school thing was really putting a cramp in his love life. Not to mention his sleeping pattern.

//I don't want her to go. I want her to stay here. With me. In bed.//

Then he had it. An idea. The same idea that men have had for a thousand years. "Buf-feeeee," he whimpered pathetically, "Come back to bed. I don't think I feel too good. You wouldn't leave me if I was sick, would you?" He coughed slightly for emphasis.

Clutching her shirt in her hands, Buffy exited the bathroom. She walked over to Angel, worry marring her features. "Oh, honey, let me see," she said, concern fairly oozing from her voice.

Angel tried to conceal a gleeful grin. //She's falling for it. Yesssss.//

Putting a comforting hand to his brow, she whispered, "I know just the thing to make you feel better."

He was the very picture of innocence. "You do?"

"Um hmmm," she nodded.

He caught himself beginning to smile in anticipation, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards. To disguise his happiness, he began to cough violently.

Carefully, she sat him up, a strong hand holding him off of the bed. "Shhh," she soothed. "It's all right. When did you start feeling this way?"

"Before. I guess I got sick in my sleep. And then when I woke up and you weren't here, I was so cold..." He trailed off, shivering.

She nodded her head, sympathetic to the extreme. "I know, sweetheart, I know. You just lay here and rest." She laid him back down on the bed, tucking the covers in around him.

Sticking his bottom lip out, he pouted. "Aren't you going to stay with me. What if I get sicker?"

Buffy leaned in closer to him, an odd smile gracing her lips. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about it."

Unhesitatingly, Angel pulled the last weapon out of his arsenal. The deadly puppy dog eyes. Full blast.

Her expression did not change. Angel began to get a little nervous.

"Wh-why not?" he whispered, trying to sound convincingly ill.

She got right in his face. "Because I'm really going to give you something to be sick about, like a stake through the heart."

His eyes widened. //Uh-oh.//

Buffy continuted, poking his chest for emphasis. "You thought you could fool me, playing sick. Honey, I hate to break it to you, but you're immortal. You can't *get* sick. I know that. I'm the Slayer, remember?

His eyes got bigger. //I'm dust. That's it.//

"If you wanted me to blow off school, thereby raising Snyder's ire and getting me expelled, why didn't you say so? I mean, if you want me to live with the shame of being expelled from high school, then so be it. I'd do anything for you, honey."

Angel stuck his bottom lip out for emphasis. "I sorry." //The baby talk always gets to her.//

Buffy was unmoved.

Angel saw his life flash before his eyes. He froze, awaiting her wrath. The she smiled, and tossed her shirt over the edge of the bed, crawling on top of him.

"Oh, the hell with school."