(no subject)
Buffy grunted as her behind connected with the exercise mat. The good thing, she supposed, was that she couldn't bruise anymore down there. Last night in the shower she'd glimpsed bits of pink skin among the black and blue mess. "You so hate me." She glared up at her opponent. "My body knows you hate me."
"Your body is a whiner," Angel replied, offering her a hand.
She took it, too tired to be proud, and habit put her back into a fighting position.
"You'll remember to block me this time?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Die."
He grinned. "That's the spirit."
"Your body is a whiner," Angel replied, offering her a hand.
She took it, too tired to be proud, and habit put her back into a fighting position.
"You'll remember to block me this time?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Die."
He grinned. "That's the spirit."