The Outfit Makes all the Difference
by BuffyT

Angel had picked a good place for himself, she decided as she tightened the strap around her waist. The windows were at an angle such that the sun was blocked most of the day, and the guards downstairs wouldn't admit anyone who did not have proof that they lived in the building. That was a perfect feature for any murderous late-night visitors who might come looking to avenge deaths.

Angel had quite a routine going here in L.A. He frequented the local cemeteries with Cordelia and Whistler as companions, and together they slew the vamps that lurked around town. It had been a whole year since she had seen Angel and Cordelia, a year which she had devoted fully to slaying. At Giles' urging, she postponed college for a year or two, and in the meantime studied ancient lore and rituals, honed her slayer senses, and trained during the daytime, and killed vampires when night came. Her newfound dedication impressed Giles, impressed him so much that he found it in his heart, and wallet, to buy her the expensive leather catsuit she wore now. It made her feel strong and invincible, and from the expressions on the vamp's faces before she killed them, especially dangerous. She wore it every night when she hunted, and if she was ever the least bit frightened, she found courage in the catsuit. The tight leather also brought out the more courageous and outrageous side of her personality. She did things she wouldn't dream of doing normally, and all the emotions she usually repressed flowed from her mouth without regret.

She went on with her slaying routine until a few days ago, when Willow had casually informed her of Angel's current activities and residence. At that point the slayer realized that as much as she liked this kick-ass slayer thing, she missed Angel deeply and needed him back in her life. If fact, when she really thought about it, it seemed slaying was the only way to distract herself from thinking about him. She took the next plane to Los Angeles and had been examining Angel's lifestyle. Willow's sources had told her that he never left his room on Tuesday nights, and she and Buffy had agreed it was probably his official brooding night.

Yesterday Buffy had attempted to go to his apartment during the day, but the burly guards had not admitted her. After knocking out a few teeth, she realized she would never get up to Angel's apartment without his knowledge if she had to kill every guard who got in her way. So she decided on a more drastic approach. She took the elevator of the next-door office building to the top floor, then climbed the up stairs leading to the roof. She wrenched open the sticky door labeled 'roof access' in faded letters, and stepped out into the cool night. From high above the city she could see the lights twinkling from the windows of houses in the distance. The air was cold, but the leather insulated her body and kept her warm. The chilly breeze caressed her face and sent her blond hair fluttering out behind her. She walked purposefully to the edge of the building, and effortlessly glided over the gap to land the roof of Angel's apartment building.

She secured the straps of her harness and checked the knots that held her to the top of the building. Drawing courage from her catsuit, she carefully lowered herself over the side of the stucco building. Convinced that the rope was not going to break, she released some tension from the rope and jumped a few feet down the side of the building. From this new angle, Buffy was unsure which window was Angel's. Her feet bounced down the dingy building, and she peeked in the first window she came to. Inside an old couple was going at it like there was no tomorrow, their fragile bodies clinging to each other. Buffy smiled and grimaced at the same time. It reminded her of the first time she saw Giles and her mother together, and the way she wanted to go outside and throw up. But she had learned a lot since then, and now recognized the need those two had to support each other. She remembered having the same fervor for someone herself, and in anticipation of it, pushed away from the window and continued her decent.

The next room she looked into was barren of personal items. An open suitcase lay untouched on the floor, and sitting at the edge of the bed was a girl with her back toward Buffy. Her form was shuddering, and although Buffy could not hear the sobs, she knew she was crying. The feeling of being lost and alone was one Buffy was quite intimate with, and she longed to comfort the girl like she wished someone had done for her. But now wasn't the time, and anyway, how would she explain that she was rappelling down the side of the building wearing a catsuit with excess supply of stakes handy?

Buffy pushed away from the window and continued down to the next level. This room was dimly lit, the colored light casting a melancholy glow on everything. She immediately sensed Angel's still form across the room, and slid over the railing onto his porch. She was careful to make no noise as she unbuckled the harness from around her waist and placed it on the porch. The now slack rope swung back to vertical. Buffy stepped closer to the sliding door and looked inside. She could tell Angel was not aware of her presence. He stood in front of the dresser, his shoulders slightly hunched and his head drooping. Buffy inwardly congratulated herself and Willow for guessing correctly about his activities on Tuesday nights.

Buffy stood silently also, watching him, and he made no move for the few minutes she observed in silence. She imagined what his reaction would be when he saw her. Most likely he would be hesitant to believe, and would want to sit down and talk about all the reasons why it was a bad idea for them to see each other again. But that wasn't Buffy's plan. Maybe it was the catsuit doing the thinking for her, but she thought they had done enough talking over the course of their relationship, and more reasoning was the last thing they needed now. Why discuss when you can take action?

Angel still having made no move, Buffy became impatient for his attention, and raised her hand to knock on the glass of the sliding door. At the sound of rapping, Angel was shaken out of his brooding session and whirled around to face the noise. He saw a figure standing on the porch, faintly outlined by the light of the moon. His senses told him she was not a vampire, and would not attack. Cautiously he made his way to the porch. Standing a foot away from the closed door, he finally recognized the figure of the woman he loved standing outside gazing back at him. In the faint light she drank in the handsome face she had missed so much and the silk shirt that covered his glorious body. She noticed his eyes widen with surprise and he took a step closer to the door. Through the glass, she saw his lips form her name - almost a question. He rested his forehead against the glass and studied her face lovingly, searching for changes and proof that she was, indeed, real. His eyes swept over her body appreciatively, before moving back up to dwell on her face. Buffy looked through her own faint reflection in the glass to see the love in his eyes - what she had been missing for so long. For the moment, Buffy was content to let Angel assess her and she him, but what her lover did not realize was that it was somewhat chilly outside.

She broke the trance and motioned to him to open the door. Angel unlocked the deadbolt and the door slid open, making a satisfying whoosh as it moved in its track. Buffy stepped past him and strode into the middle of the room, looking around at his collection of ancient books and other items adorning the shelves and walls. She smiled, satisfied, when she saw a picture of herself smiling in the sunlight in a little frame on top of the dresser. She recalled Willow taking that picture of her a few months ago, and realized Angel and Willow must have been more in touch than she thought. Angel finished closing and locking the door behind her and now stood behind her, waiting. She turned to face him, and recognized his mouth opening to say something - to ask why she came to see him, most likely. No, she decided, they weren't ready to talk about that yet.

She crossed to room to him in two steps and pulled his mouth down to her own before he could speak the words. She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. He was tentative to place his hands lightly on her waist, but made no move to break the kiss. Confidently Buffy pressed her body against his and recklessly explored his mouth as she had longed to do. She was pleased with herself when finally his arms tightened around her and his hands caressed her leather-covered back. He seemed to enjoy the feel of leather tight over her skin, because his hands roamed over her body freely and his mouth plundered hers passionately. Buffy pulled away from him for a moment, grinning wickedly at his sudden exuberance. He smiled slyly and pulled her back into him.

"I really like the outfit," he half-growled in her ear, then kissed her again.

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