I think, somehow, I had always loved him.

If only superficially. Love, lust, same diff.

He is just so damned hot! I was always a sucker for a cute face and a nice ass, and he has both...and more.

Believe me, I know.

But I couldn’t exactly do anything about it, could I?

Sometimes it sucks having a roomie.

But having no locks in the bathroom can suck even more.

Or not.

My makeup needs fixing, and I have no mirror in my room. Yet. But for now I have to rely on the tiny one in the apartment’s one bathroom. It’s really annoying having to carry my makeup case into and out of that bathroom. It’s even more annoying not having a stand to prop my makeup on. And that tiny mirror? Don’t get me started on that. But what else can I do? Go around without makeup? Yeah right. I know, I know, I’m vain and shallow. So sue me. I have layers beyond that, you know. But the frosting is what attracts people to a cake. So my frosting has to be perfect.

“Anyone in there?” I hold my makeup case precariously in one hand and rap my knuckles against the bathroom door tentatively. Walking in and finding Angel peeing or something (if vampires even do) would be embarrassing. Hearing no answer, I turn the knob and push the door open.

And stop.

Okay, so he wasn’t peeing. But...

“Oh my God.” The words come out as a sigh as I stare at the figure in the tub in surprise and more than a little lust. Angel naked in the bathtub...

His hair is wet, and random strands fall over his face in curling tendrils. His strong, muscular chest is covered in droplets of water that I long to wipe off...hell, lick off, even! My searching gaze takes in every feature of him – his pouting mouth and strong chin...it trails down his torso to...

*Whoa! Stop right there! This is NOT a good thing to be doing!*

I reluctantly look up at his face instead. Oh, he is so fine...

He is also fast asleep. So I can look a little longer...

There is a lock of hair lying over one eye. My fingers itch to brush it away for him. My fingers itch to do much more than that to him, but who can resist a little Angel loving? I can’t, but it’s not like it would ever come my way. And Buffy didn’t, that’s a fact. Ick. Not for the first time, I feel jealous of my “friend.” I wonder what he was like in bed?

God, Cordelia, you have a one-track mind.

I eye him hungrily, longing to reach out and touch him. I know I should get out before he wakes up. After he got over his embarrassment he’d start making fun of me for staring. He’s changed a lot since his Brood Boy days. Hmph. I don’t think that’s always a good thing. Now he does the Big Brother act where he thinks that teasing me in various little ways is the most hilarious thing in the world. Personally I blame it on Doyle. Those two are like little boys when they get together. It makes me feel prematurely old to have to watch over the two of them.

Ugh. Since when did I become a single mom?

But hey, I don’t want him to act like a brother to me! I want him to... I just want him, dammit! Is that too much to ask?

We’re friends, for God’s sake. There are limits to where you can go as a friend. I’m sure molesting him while he was asleep in the tub is past that point. Too bad. Too damn bad.

I wonder if he knows how scrumplicious he looks?

“Well, I do now.”

I jump in surprise at his voice, and my eyes dart to his face. He’s awake. And he’s laughing, the bastard!

“What are you laughing at?” I feel my face burning.

“I’m flattered by your compliment, Cordy,” he drawls casually, making no move to cover himself from my gaze. “And I have to say that I think you’re...” He snickers. “...scrumplicious too.”

I realize that I had spoken out loud. Oops.

“Stop making fun of me!”

He’s still smiling, but his tone has become more serious. “But I’m not.”

It takes a while to register what he’s just said. Then my heart starts to pound in my ears and I try to think up a really good reply.

“Oh.” Smooth, Cordy.

We stare at each other in silence for a moment until I realize that I am still clutching the makeup bag in my hands. I clear my throat awkwardly, for once at a loss for words.

“Um...I have to put on my makeup now, so...” I gesture towards the door and raise my eyebrows at him, hiding the confusion I felt.

His expression falls a little, but he nods. The light banter had dissipated with my statement, and he begins to clamber up from the tub. I turn away politely, but glance at the mirror out of the corner of my eye to get a better view. I can’t see anything! I crane my neck a little more...

“Stop staring,” he calls out suddenly, amusement evident in his voice.

“I’m not!”

Duh. He doesn’t have a reflection! I turn away from the mirror. This time I keep my eyes trained to the tiles in front of me.

“Okay, Cordy, you can...OUCH!”

I spin around to face him in alarm. “Angel?”

“Ow.”

I look down to where he was lying on the floor, rubbing his head ruefully. And I laugh.

“It’s not funny. My head hurts. I banged it against the tub!” he said petulantly.

I laugh harder. “That’s what you get for splashing water all over the place! Don’t you know how dangerous that is? Someone could get hurt!” I scolded, slipping easily into my Mother routine. Too easily. Good grief.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. He held out a hand towards me. “Could you help me up please?”

I walk over to where he was and shake my head, smiling. “C’mon, you big baby,” I say, grabbing hold of his hand. “Get up. Just try not to get me all wet in the process, okay?”

He grins slyly at me. “Okay.” Then he tugs me down on top of him.

“Angel!”

“Oops.”

I struggle to get free from his grasp. “Let me go! Ugh! You’re all wet!”

He tightens his grip on me, laughing. “That’s your punishment for making fun of me,” he says, splashing me with bath water as I shriek in indignation.

“ANGEL!”

“Okay, okay.” He kisses my nose lightly and lets me go. But I don’t get up. I kiss him back. Then he kisses me back. Then I kiss him back...

Things happen.

And now, hey, the only reason I can possibly think of to lock the bathroom door is when Doyle is over. I wouldn’t want him walking in on me...us...by accident or anything.

Well, actually, I wouldn’t want Angel to walk in on me doing other stuff either. Like shaving? Eew! Or putting on eyeliner. That needs concentration, and I really can’t concentrate with Angel around...Hmm. Weighing myself too. Don’t want him to see me doing that. Or gargling with mouthwash. What a turnoff! Or flossing. Or...

Oh, never mind.