In Your Eyes

by Jill

Part 11


Buffy snuggled deeper into Angel's embrace. After their romantic evening and a
wonderful night of love they were laying in a tight embrace, her back firmly
against his chest, they fitted each other perfectly. It was still dark outside
and a glance to the clock on the nightstand told her it wasn't even six in the
morning.

Angel had been so sweet, so gentle, always a little bit afraid he would hurt the
baby, she was carrying in her womb, but somehow his gentleness, his sweetness had
been incredibly arousing and his slow lovemaking had been close to torture. In a
good way of course.

A frown appeared on her forehead. Was there something like a good torture?

Laughing inwardly she covered his hand that was resting on her belly with her
own, marvelling in the feeling of being so close to the man she loved. The deep,
regular sound of his breathing told her he was still fast asleep. Closing her
eyes she decided she could also sleep another hour when the sound of the
door-bell invaded their privacy.

She could feel Angel stirring behind her, but was out of the bed before he even
opened his eyes, rushing to the door, she was ready to kill whoever was
disturbing them at that time of the day. "Who is there?," she asked, not
bothering to suppress the annoyance in her voice.

"It's Kate," came the reply.

Buffy raised a brow, "Kate?," she shook her head in disbelief, but opened the
door for the police officer. "Come in," she invited her and the blonde detective
entered the apartment. "Sorry to ... oh, morning Angel," she said to the man who
was just entering the living-room, rubbing his eyes. "I'm really sorry to disturb
you at that time of the day, but something occured," her eyes darted to Buffy for
a moment, then back to Angel, "Well, I thought I'd show it to you at once."

She reached into the rear pocket of her trousers and produced a photography, then
handed it over to Angel.

Blinking the remaining sleep from his eyes he focussed them on the picture and
thought his heart would stop. Taking three deep breaths, he slowly raised his
head from the picture he was holding in a now trembling hand. "Where did you get
this?", he asked.

Buffy, seeing her husband's distress stepped to his side. "Angel? What's the
matter?" Without a word he handed the picture to her, his eyes remaining on Kate.

"There was another incident tonight," the police officer began to explain while
Buffy looked at the picture and instantly pressed a hand on her mouth in shock,
grabbing her husband's arm with the other, while the photo fell to the ground.
"Another blonde girl. Again the same size, the same age. She was murdered only an
hour before we found her. This," she pointed at the picture, "was laying on top
of her."

"Oh God," Buffy whispered and looked at Angel, whose face was paper white.

"God, Kate," his voice was only a harsh whisper. "He's after her. His real target
is Buffy."

"It seems," she nodded. "I already organised protection for her. From now on, an
officer will always be with you. He or she will accompany you where ever you go."

"And you think that's enough," Angel picked the picture from the ground. "One
officer!"

"It's all we can afford," Kate didn't like the fact herself, but she had no other
choice, there simply weren't enough officers around..

"This is the handwriting of a psychotic killer, you know that as well as I do,"
Angel shouted and tossed the photo into her direction. "And all you can do is one
officer. Thanks a lot. It's good we have our own business." Turning to his wife
he pulled her into his arms. She was trembling allover. "I'm sorry, darling. I
wish ...," his voice cracked and he held her tightly.

"I'm alright," she whispered. "It was just the initial shock."

"I know you are strong," he replied gently. "But this is far too serious. Spike
and Dru will be with you when I cannot be. We won't be playing with your life
like the police department." He shot Kate an angry look.

"Angel I...," she wanted to protest, but he held up a hand and pointed at the
picture.

"I want a copy of it and I want to know where it was developed. Maybe the police
is good for something." Then he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep
breath, "Sorry, Kate. That's nothing personal, it's just..."

"I understand. I leave that one with you," she tossed the picture on a table near
by. "I'm responsible for Buffy until afternoon, then my collegue, David Geoghan,
will take over." She gazed at the younger blonde woman, "I'll be outside whenever
you need me." With a nod, she slipped out of the apartment.

Buffy and Angel stayed the way they were, in a close embrace, holding each other
close, giving each other strength. Over the head of his wife his eyes fell on the
photo on the table. It was a picture of Buffy, obviously taken with a
teleobjective and on it the killer had written in red capital letters: SOON.

******

Dru and Spike arrived at the apartment only half an hour later. They hadn't even
asked any further, the distress in Angel's voice had been reason enough to come
without delay. Now Spike was sitting at the table sipping coffe with Buffy, Angel
and Kate while Dru was pacing the living-room. Angel was one of her best friends
and someone threatened the woman he loved. That was enough reason for her to be
angry.

"This guy is a sicko," she said, stopping her pacing for a moment and looking at
the four other people in the room. "But he made a fault. He thinks he's
completely in control," she pointed at the picture that was laying on the table.
"And he wants you to know," now she was only gazing at Buffy, "he wants you to be
afraid, to know he's just waiting for the right opportunity. God, what on earth
happens that a guy changes into a psychotic?" She shook her head and started to
pace again.

"Dru, baby, can't you sit down?," Spike groaned. "You make me sick. It's not even
seven in the morning. How can you be so ... so ... alert?"

"And how can you just sit there and fill your belly with coffee?," she shot back.
"I'm so angry right now." She stopped for the second time and threw her hands in
the air. "I just hope I'm the one who gets him between her hands." A grim smile
played around her lips. "I would gladly introduce him to my martial arts skills."

Buffy couldn't help herself, she had to laugh at that. "And I'd like to watch. I
think it would be only fair if he would at least feel some of the pain he
inflicted on his victims. But at the moment, my prime interest is not to become
the next of them."

Angel's arm that was wrapped loosely around her waist tightened at ther words,
"Yes, exactly my thoughts. There's another thing," he quickly glanced at his wife
and when he saw her nod, he continued, "we wanted to wait announcing it, but
under these circumstances ... guys, Buffy is pregnant."

"Congratulations," Dru walked over and kissed the blonde on the cheek while
slapping Angel on the shoulder. "Great news." Kate and Spike said the same.

"Thanks," the expecting father gave them a tight smile. "It is. But ..."

"Yeah," Spike sighed deeply. "And we still don't have the slightest idea who this
guy could be. That's so frustrating. There's someone running through L.A.,
killing woman left and right and nothing. He's either just lucky or extremely
clever."

"I fear the second is true," Kate said with a worried look in her eyes. "He never
leaves any fingerprints, he always uses a condom. He doesn't rape his victims, it
actually looks as if everything is fine. Then after the act he's suddenly out of
control - or that's at least what our psych-doctors say. Our new psychologist
thinks he's under the illusion it is Buffy with him. Then after he's slept with
the woman and his initial excitement fades he realises it isn't her and he
snaps."

"God," Buffy groaned and held a hand in front of her mouth, then suddenly ran
towards the bathroom.

"Morning sickness," Dru observed.

"I hope that's all. God," Angel ran a hand through his hair, "she really doesn't
need this right now. We've already lost a child, if ...," his voice cracked at
the mere thought someone could harm his wife or their unborn child and Dru
reached out, squeezing his shoulder in a gesture of friendship.

"I'm back," Buffy announced with a smile, coming our of the bathroom. "The doctor
already told me it would start sooner or later."

"You're sure you're okay," Angel asked concerned.

She nodded, "Yes, I'm fine," she replied and this time slipped on his lap. "We
have to tell Cordy and Doyle," she said after a moment. "And mom and Giles. I'll
also tell Willow. I think they need to know."

"Yeah," Spike agreed. "And also your secretary in the gallery. The more people
are around you the better. He will try to get you on your own. And that's what
we'll make impossible. This guy will learn what it means to mess around with the
wife of a friend."
 

 Part 12

Buffy's head snapped up from the letter she was reading when the phone at her
desk suddenly rang. How odd, she thought, usually Eileen would ask her first if
she'd take the call. Laughing she expected her mother or Angel checking on her -
they had the direct number - and took the receiver from the cradle.

"Summers Art Gallery, Buffy Finnegan here. May I help you?"

"You weren't home today. I've waited such a long time to talk to you, but you
weren't home," a muffled voice said.

The blood froze in her veins and she realized her hand had started to tremble.

"Who are you?," she asked but already knowing it had to be the killer.

A laugh was the reply and then he said, "You know who I am. I'm the man who loves
you more than anybody else."

The trembling got worse, but somehow she managed to keep her voice steady or so
she hoped, "Where did you get that number?"

"Do you think I'm stupid?," the voice became a bit angry now, "Do you?"

"N-no," she replied, hoping for an oportunity to get in touch with Dru or Spike
who sat in their car in front of the gallery. But she knew there was no way. She
would have to wait until the call was finished to tell them. "What do you want?"

He laughed again and somehow she thought the sound of his voice was familiar, but
she was too shaken by the call to hold that thought. "I want you of course," he
whispered. "You are so beautiful and you'll be mine. Soon, Buffy, soon."

The click told her he'd disconnected the line. Yet she couldn't move. She knew
she should go and get Dru and Spike or the police officer, but she couldn't move.
She was frozen in place, the receiver still in her hand, which was shaking like a
leaf.

Buffy sat perfectly still. Outside the sun was shining through her window, cars
moved by on the street. There was sweat on her forehead, she realised, cold and
sticky. Like a robot, she reposed the receiver and reached for her purse to get a
a tissue and carefully dried her face. He'd wanted her to know. The photo had
only been his first message. This time it was more direct.

Her fingers still trembled as they put the tissue back into her purse. She
couldn't swallow. But now she was at least able to move. Slowly, and with
infinite care, she drew the chair back and eased out of it when the knock on her
door made her slam back against the wall in an animal panic she'd never before
experienced. Terror swam into her as she looked around for something to defend
herself, a place to hide, a way to escape.

But then the knock came again and she suddenly realised it was the middle of the
day and she was in her office. Then - only seconds later - Eileen's head
appeared, "Hi Bu...," she stopped in mid-sentence. Buffy was standing with her
back at the wall, her eyes wide, her face drained of blood, her whole form
shaking, "Buffy!," she said in panic and entered the office. "Are you alright?"

At her touch, the blonde flinched but slowly her eyes focussed. "E-Eileen?," her
voice was barely above a whisper and her hand flew to ther mouth, "Oh God.
Eileen." Her other hand grabbed the secretary's arm and held. "Oh God," she
repeated.

"What is the matter," Eilen asked in concern. "Is it the baby?"

"The ... no, no, I'm fine. The baby is fine. B-But ...," she took the hand from
her mouth and pointed towards the phone, "A ... a call. It ... it was him."

"Him? What do ... oh God," the older woman's eyes showed sudden understanding.
"You mean the killer called you?"

Buffy only nodded in response, then closed her eyes, glad to have the wall to
support her.

Eileen too her hand, "You wait here for a moment. I get your friends. Can you
wait?"

"Y-yes," the blonde nodded again. "Go."

*

She had calmed down and was discussing the call with Spike, Dru and David
Geoghan, the police officer who was watching her this afternoon, when the door
opened and Angel stormed into her office. Ignoring all the others in the room,
his eyes were only on his wife, who was still pale but looked much better now.

"Buffy," he kneeled down in front of her, "baby, are you alright?"

She gave him a smile and was glad he hadn't seen her right after the call. He was
concerned enough the way it was. "Yes. Much better now, thanks to Dru, Spike and
David," she quickly glanced to them.

"Oh, darling," Angel's arms closed around her waist and he pulled her to him,
holding her close. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there," he murmured against her chest.

"Angel," she slightly pulled back, "I'm really okay now. Just a bit shaken. But
we're both fine," she assured him, knowing that this would've been his next
question.

He took her hand and pressed it against his cheek, then kissed its palm. Taking a
deep breath he looked towards Dru and Spike, "Were you there?"

"No," Buffy said and told him about the call and what the killer had said. Bad
idea, she realised, because it was like reliving the whole thing and her hands
were trembling when she was finished. Drawing a shaky breath she ran a hand
through her hair, "His voice was muffled as if he'd been talking through a tissue
or something like that."

"God, baby," Angel pulled her close again and held her for another long moment.

Officer Geoghan cleared his throat, "I've already ordered to have the phone
wired. It'll be done within the hour. I cannot believe whe didn't think about it
in the first place." He shook his head and Angel could see he was angry with
himself for not considering the possibility of a phone call.

"You couldn't have known," Buffy tried to comfort him. "I'd never have thought
he'd call."

"But we could've guessed," officer Geoghan argued. "Most of them do." He shook
his head again and took a deep breath.

"He's getting closer," Dru exchanged a glance with her boyfriend before looking
back at Angel and Buffy. "Yesterday the photo and today the call. His patience is
running out."

"Yeah," Spike agreed and gazed at his childhood-friend, "It seems he likes this
game. Hide and seek. God, what a sicko." Shaking his head he ran a hand through
his hair. "I'd really like to get my hands on him and then ...."

"Whatever," Angel interrupted him. "I take her home now."

"But," his wife tried to protest but was silenced by the look in his eyes. There
was no way arguing with him at the moment, she knew him well enough for that.
"What about the gallery?," she asked weakly. "I cannot just leave."

"Your mom will be there in some minutes. I've called her," he replied, stood up
and pulled her with him. "Spike, Dru, take your time off. I've already told Cordy
and Doyle to cover for me today. Tomorrow at eight, alright?," he looked at is
associates, who nodded in response.

"I'll be following you," officer Geoghan announced.

Angel just shrugged, "Suit yourself." Without another glance at the detective the
couple left the gallery.

****

She was glad to sit down and stretch her legs, Buffy decided while she listened
to the sounds coming from the kitchen where Angel was preparing tea and a snack
for her. It was a real advantage to have a husband who was eager to cook. She
felt much better now. The initial shock had faded and at the moment she felt
almost relaxed. With a content sigh she closed her eyes.

Angel on the other hand was far from feeling relaxed. His movements were jerky
and he could see his hands were still slightly trembling. He could almost feel
the killer coming closer. After the photo and the phone call there was no doubt,
his next target would be Buffy. Closing his eyes for a moment his hands gripped
the edge of the sink until the knuckles were white. This was not going to happen.
The killer might be smart and he might have managed to kill several woman but he
would not get Buffy, Angel vowed.

The mere thought that something could happen to her ... no, he couldn't afford to
elaborate that thought. The icy claws of fear were already crawling up his spine,
if he would go there, he wouldn't be able to function properly and Buffy needed
him. Needed his mind cool and his hands steady. He'd been so happy to hear about
the baby they were expecting, but he had to admit it was the wrong time. She was
even more vulnerable that way. If the stress would cause a miscarriage ... no,
stop it, he scolded himself. It was fruitless to go there.

The boiling water made him snap out of his dark thoughts. Quickly he prepared the
tea and a light sandwich for her and headed over where she was laying on the
sofa.

Hearing his steps she opened her eyes and smiled, pushing herself into an upright
position, "Thanks, love." She raised a brow at the single sandwich, "Are you not
hungry?"

"No, not really," he replied and averted his eyes. He couldn't imagine to eat at
the moment. His stomach was already in turmoil. His mother was probably right, he
was too soft for this.

"Angel," she gently took his hand and when he looked at her she continued, "I'm
alright. I really am. Of course I was shaken first, but now I feel good." She
laughed, "It's strange, but I feel safe and relaxed," flashing him a grin she
winked, "must be the company."

He took a deep breath and managed a smile, "Thanks for the compliment."

"You're welcome," she took the sandwich and tasted. "Hmmm, heavenly. I didn't
even realise how hungry I was."

A frown appeared on his forehead, "You have to take care of yourself, love."

"I know," she sighed and sipped from her tea. "And I do. But ...," she trailed
off, giving him a pointed look.

"Yeah, I know," he sat down beside her and pulled her cin his arms carefully not
to spill the tea she was still holding. Rubbing his hand up and down her arm, he
said, "He comes closer. And he likes to play with you, he wants to feel your
fear. God," he ran his other hand through his hair, "I think for the first time
in my life I really want to kill someone."

Buffy put the sandwich and the tea down on the table and snuggled closer into his
embrace, "When I heard his voice on the phone I froze. I couldn't believe he was
really calling me," a shudder ran through her body. "I'm glad the police is
wiring the phones in the gallery."

"Doyle will come in an hour and do the same here," he informed her. "I'm sure
he'll try to contact you again. He likes this game far too much." His arm around
her shoulders tightened. Then he leaned over and gently kissed her on her cheek.
"He will not get to you, Buffy. I swear."

"I know," she replied and pulled his hand to her mouth to kiss its palm, then
turned it and kissed the back too. "He might be smart. But we are better."

"Yes," Angel said and silently added, 'God, I hope so. I truly hope so.'

******

He was so alive it was almost painful. Paul Cook could feel the anticipation
pooling in him, the power gathering, until it felt as if he should be glowing. He
was always amazed that the people couldn't see the power, but then in his opinion
most people really were extraordinarily stupid.

It would be soon. It was so pleasant, this buildup of power almost as soon as the
glow had faded from before. But this time, he knew, it would be even better,
because this time it would be Buffy. There wouldn't be the disappointment
afterwards when he realised it wasn't her, the anger that the woman had only been
a substitute.

The only problem was to get Buffy on her own. But he was smart and he would find
a way. If it were necessary he would eliminate that husband of hers. He was
bothering him anyway.

He hummed to himself when he opened the door to his aparment.

Soon, the voice in his head whispered, soon.

 Part 13

Lost in the dark and the cold. She wondered if the wind was dying down or if she
was just so used to its nasty buffeting that she no longer felt it trying to kill
her. She tried to imagine herself springing to her feet and running, she wanted
to will herself to try it, but was too weak, too tired to do more then crawl over
the ground.

She'd lost all sense of direction and was afraid she would end up crawling
blindly into the river to drown. But she wouldn't stop, couldn't stop, as long as
there was a chance of reaching home.

And if she was lost, he might be lost as well. Antoher tree crashed somehwere
behind her, falling with a force that shook the ground. She thought she heard
someone call her name, but the wind ripped the sound away. He would call her, she
thought, as she tried to crawl faster. He would call her hoping she'd give
herself away so that he could kill her as he had the others.

For a moment she was inclined to let him. It would be so easy, there wouldn't be
fear anymore, only welcoming darkness and peace. But no, she didn't want him to
win. For all the other girls he'd slaughtered without mercy, she couldn't let him
win.

He was calling her again, and now she even felt hands on herself. Like a madwoman
she began to trash and to struggle, she tried to escape to delay the inevitable.
She thought about Angel, their baby she was carrying and balled her hand to a
fist. Then she swung it - hard.

"Ouh," she heard and her eyes popped open.

"Angel," her lips formed the name, but she wasn't sure if she'd said it loud.

He was sitting on the bed beside her, looking down on her, on of his hands
holding her arms, the other touching his left cheek. "If you'll ever be tired
with the gallery, I'd recommend wrestling," he said, rubbing the flesh where her
fist had connected with his face. The smile on his lips seemed a bit forced, she
knew he'd tried to make a joke to lighten the mood, but his eyes were full of
concern.

"Oh, Angel, I'm sorry. I've been dreaming," she replied.

"I know, you've been tossing and turning for a while, but a minute ago it became
so restless I decided to wake you up." He grinned loopsidedly, "Big fault." Again
he rubbed his cheek. "What was it about?," he asked and the concern in his eyes
deepened

"He was following me. A storm was there, and I tried to escape ...," she trailed
off and a shudder went through her whole body. Instantly Angel gathered her in
his arms and held her close.

"Shhh," he made. "It's okay, it was only a dream."

"But it felt so real," she insisted. "The feelings were real."

"Of course they are. You're frightened, we both are," he tightened his hold on
her as if he could bann all evil and protect her from sick psychos. But he knew
it wouldn't work. The killer, whoever he was, wanted her. He'd expressed it more
than openly. She would need a lot of strength to go through this and he would
help her as good as he could. Even if it was only holding her like this. It
wasn't much, he realised sadly, but it seemed to help nevertheless. He could feel
her relax in his arms and minutes later he felt her breathing deepen. She'd
fallen asleep in his arms.

With utmost tenderness he placed her head back on the pillow and pulled the
covers over her, then laid down beside her and gathered her in his arm, feeling
the steady rythm of her breath tickle the skin on his chest. In a matter of
minutes he was asleep as well.

*****

"Doyle?."

The head of the Irishman snapped up and he turned towards his wife who was
standing just outside of his office. "How can I help you darlin'?" He gave her
the brightest fake smile. It didn't help.

"I can't concentrate on my work," she let out a sigh and sat down on a chair
opposite to his.

His smile vanished instantly, his face now mirroring his feelings, "I know," he
leaned back.

"God, just think about it. Some insane killer is running around threatening
Buffy's life. They must be going crazy by now. How can they stand it? Especially
with Buffy pregnant and all. She really doesn't need this."

"You should take these words at heart yourself," he replied and gave her a
pointed look, reminding her she was in the same condition.

"That's not the same," she stomped her foot on the ground, then jumped up and
began to pace his office. "I mean, think about it. Just imagine it would be me.
How would you feel?"

"I don't want to imagine that, Delia," he rubbed his hand over his face. No, he
definitely didn't want to imagine it.

"Yeah," she stopped her pacing and looked at him. "There has to be something we
can do, Doyle. I cannot just sit here and do my work as if nothing has happened."

"But there *is* nothing we can do at the moment, darlin'. After the call of this
... this slime, the police wired the phones at the gallery and I did it at
Angel's apartment. If he calls now, we can all listen. Maybe we find something in
his voice, some background noise, anything to help us to discover his identity."

"How is she really taking it, Doyle?," Cordelia asked after a moment and sat down
again.

"She's tough, better than most, I think. Big part of it is Angel's doing. He
doesn't try to hide his own fear and it helps her a lot. Most people think it's
good to be strong for the other and he is strong in his own way, but he also
shows that he understands what's going on inside of her, because he feels the
same. You know, like what happens to you, happens to me as well."

"Still ...," she bit her lower lip. "Do you think she would like me to drop in at
the gallery?"

He had to smile at that, "Maybe. You could ... if you want ... get Camille from
the Kindergarden and take her with you. Would probably lighten up the mood."

"That's a very good idea," she was instantly excited, "And maybe we can take a
stroll in the park. I mean, Dru and Spike will shadow us and so it wouldn't be
dangerous, right?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Why don't you go now?," he suggested.

"Now? Well, if you don't mind ... I mean ... there's some bills and stuff...,"

"Delia?"

"Hmm?"

"Go! Now!"

She flashed him a smile. "I love you, Doyle."

Smiling at her retreating back he let out a sigh and murmured, "And I love you
too."

*****

"This was a very good idea, Cordy," Buffy smiled at the brunette while they were
stolling through the park near the gallery. Camille was playing with some other
kids near by.

"I felt so bad that there was nothing I could do for you," Cordelia blurted out,
then stopped herself instantly, "God, that sounds so selfish, but ..."

"It's okay," the blonde interrupted her. "I know how you feel. I think everyone
around me feels like that." She glanced quickly behind her where Dru and Spike
were walking in some distance, "maybe not everyone, but Angel does, my mom,
Giles. You should've seen him. They came to see us last night with Stephen, who
was blessedly normal. He's just eight years old and the world belongs to him, but
Giles," she rolled her eyes and it made Cordelia laugh, "he was fussing over me."
She shook her head, "Mom was much better. She's really great. Angel says I've got
my strength from her and he's probably right. She was just holding my hand,
asking me, if she could do anything."

"I really like your mom," the brunette said. "My parents would be helpless in a
case like this, if they would be interested at all that is," her voice dripped of
sarcasm.

Buffy decided not to comment this. Cordelia's parents didn't seem to care for her
daughter at all. They hadn't attended her wedding, they only saw Camille once and
they hadn't called back since their daughter had called them and left a message
about her second pregnancy on their answering machine. The blonde shuddered
inwardly and thought that Giles' fussing wasn't so bad after all.

"Look, aunt Buffy," Camille exclaimed suddenly and stormed towards the women
clutching something in her tiny fist.

"Slow down, baby," her mother shouted, but it was in vain. Like a little
whirlwind her daughter launched herself into her arms, holding out out her hand
to Buffy.

"What is it?," the blonde asked and took the crumpled object from the girl.

"A man said it was for you," Camille beamed. In her eyes she'd brought Buffy a
present.

The women on the other hand were instantly alarmed. Buffy enfolded what was an
instant photgraphy and all colour drained from her face. She had problems to hold
the object in her shaking hands.

"Buffy, what..," Cordelia asked in concern, but the blonde wasn't hearing her.
Her eyes were wildly searching the park. "Buffy!," the brunette shouted and
touched the other woman's arm. "What is it?", she asked when she had Buffy's
attention.

"This," she held out the picture with a trembling hand and Cordelia took it from
her. "Oh no," she whispered, then spun around and shouted, "Spike, Dru!"

Within seconds they were with them, "What happened?," Dru demanded and took the
picture from Cordelia. Instantly her face contorted in anger, while she was
showing the photo to Spike, "That bastard. That damned, sick bastard." Taking
Buffy's hand she asked, "Are you alright?"

"Huh?," the blonde seemed far away, but then her eyes focussed again, "Yeah,
better now. God, Dru, he's watching me, he followed us."

"I know," she replied. "Camille," she looked at the little girl, because she had
seen Cordelia's daughter carrying the photo, "can you remember the man who gave
you the picture?"

"He said it was a surprise," Camille replied, her voice confused, because she
sensed the distress in the grown ups around her.

Dru took a deep breath. Calm down, she told herself, don't frighten the kid, "I
know. And it was," she gave the girl a smile. "But can you remember his face?"

Camille shook her head, her eyes watering already, her lower lip trembled. She
had brought aunt Buffy a present but nobody seemed to be happy about it.

Cordelia stroked her daughter's face, "Baby, you were a good little girl to bring
us the surprise," she assured her, "we want to say thankyou to the nice man, but
for this we have to know how he looks. Do you understand?"

Camille nodded and a ghost smile appeared on her lips. "Alright," Dru took over
again. "Tell me, was he as big as your daddy?"

The girl shook her head. "Was he bigger?," Dru asked and her reply was a nod.

"He said aunt Buffy would like the present," Camille said. "He had nice hair,
like mom."

"So it was the same colour?," Spike spoke for the same time. "Brown hair, tall,
well, that's a start."

"About a third of the male population of Los Angeles has brown hair," his
girlfriend reminded him.

"Yeah, I know, but that's two thirds less than before, look at the bright side,"
he tried to joke, but his eyes were on the picture he was holding in his hand. It
was taken with an instant camera and with red letters the killer had written 'I'm
watching you'.

 Part 14

"This was the best idea ever," Buffy sighed happily and snuggled deeper into
Angel's embrace. "I haven't felt so relaxed for days." They were in one of the
nightclubs in L.A. swaying to the music. Doyle and Cordelia were near by as were
Oz and Willow who had all accompanied them.

"I'm glad," he replied, feeling himself far from being relaxed. Over her head his
restless eyes scanned the club, although he knew it was useless. It was very
unlikely the killer would show here and even if he did, how should one discover
him between all these people. Killers unfortunately never wore a sign on them so
you could identify them easily.

The music of the song faded and another, very romantic one started.

There You Go
Flashing Fever from your Eyes
Hey babe
Come over here
and shove down tight
I'm not denying
We're flying above them all
Hold my hand
Don't let me fall
You've such amazing grace
I've never felt this way

"Look at them," Willow whispered into Oz' ear and nodded pointedly towards Buffy
and Angel. "Four years married and still madly in love."

"Yeah," he replied in his typical, unexpressional manner.

"That's so sweet," she sighed and used her boyfriend's shoulder as a pillow. "And
now she's even pregnant again. It couldn't be more wonderful."

Oz pulled sightly back and eyed the red-head thoughtfully, "If you forget about
the fact that some sicko is stalking her."

She frowned, "Happy thoughts tonight, remember. Angel wants her to relax, no
mentioning of stalkers and killers."

"As you wish."


Ohhh
Show me Heaven
Cover Me
Leave me breathless
Ohhh
Show me Heaven please

Here I go
I'm shaking just like a breeze
Hey babe
I need your hand to steady me
I'm not denying
I'm frightened as much as you
though I'm barely touching you
I've shivers down my spine
and it feels divine



"You've certainly improved your dancing skills, Mr. Doyle," Cordelia teased
gently.

"Why thank you Mylady," he grinned at her. "How do you feel?," there was concern
in his voice now.

"I'd say heavenly, but then with this crazy guy running around ... but Buffy
seemes really relaxed tonight. I still can't believe that this ... this sicko
even followed us into the park."

"And using Camille of all people," Doyle hissed through gritted teeth. When his
wife had told him about the incident he'd wanted to go out and beat the guy into
a bloody pulp. Fortunately Camille didn't understand what had happened. But to
think that he touched his little girl.

"Calm down, darling," she stroked his back. "Relax, remember."

He sighed heavily, "I'll try"


Oooh
Show me Heaven
Cover Me
Leave me breathless
Oooh
Show me Heaven please

If you know what it's like
to dream a dream
baby hold be tight
and let this be

Oooh
Heaven - Cover Me
Leave Me breathless
Oooh
Show Me Heaven please

Leave me breathless

Leave me breathless

Cover me - oooh - yeah

Leave me breathless



The song ended and the DJ changed to a faster one. Soon the couples found
themselves together at their table again. "This is a lovely club," Willow looked
around and was pleased by the cozy atmosphere, the red leather seats, the wooden
interior. "I didn't even know it existed."

"Spike knew it," Angel explained, draping one arm around Buffy's shoulders. "He
once worked as a bodyguard for a business-man's wife and she used to go here.
There's a new owner these days, but Dru insists it's even become better."

"Cheers to Spike and Dru," Cordelia held up her glass of coke. "They've become an
important part of the agency throughout the last years." She grinned, "With the
two bosses so busy with making their wifes pregant and all."

Angel chuckled while Doyle turned beet red, "I'm sure you didn't have any
alocohol tonight," he said with a pointed nod at his wife's stomach, "so why are
you like this?"

"Like what?", she asked innocently, grinning from ear to ear.

He narrowed his eyes, "You're teasing me again. 'Delia Darlin', I'm an expectant
father, you shouldn't do that."

The others laughed and after some seconds Doyle laughed as well.

"How's Camille," Willow wanted to know.

"Fine," Cordelia replied with a smile. "She's all but exited about getting a new
sibling. The whole day she's thinking about names for the baby. Her latest choice
is Mickey Mouse." They laughed again and the brunette continued, "And she won't
understand that it's not nice to name a human being that way. 'Mommy', she says,
'it's such a nice person. Why wouldn't anyone like to be named like that?'" She
shook her head.

"She's so adorable," the red-head said dreamily and quickly glanced at her
boyfriend, but he didn't even seem to notice that certain look.

Buffy and Cordelia on the other hand had seen it alright and the blond teased,
"Oz, when are you going to popp the question? You're with Willow for years. I
think it's about time."

"Huh?," the man's head snapped up. He'd been busy listening to the music.

Cordelia rolled her eyes, "He's beyond help. Willow, you probably should dump him
to give him the push into the right direction." She winked with a grin on her
face.

"Dump me? Why on earth would she dump me?," Oz asked, but seemed a bit worried
all of a sudden. He cautiously eyed his girlfriend who looked all innocence, but
he couldn't see her eyes glittered wickedly.

"Probably," was all she said and finally had her boyfriend's whole attention. She
loved him dearly but his stoic nature sometimes drove her crazy.

"What?," he almost shouted. "What is going on here?"

"Nothing," Cordelia reached over the table and covered one of his hands with
hers. "But if you'd listen more closely you wouldn't look so ... why, I'd almost
say he looks scared."

"Definitely," Buffy agreed.

"Scared, alright," Willow nodded.

And then all three burst out laughing.

"Women," Oz grumbled, but leaned over and kissed his girlfriend on the cheek.
Then his eyes wandered to Angel and Doyle. "But we love them anyway." They both
nodded in agreement, almost simultaneously taking their wife's hands and kissing
them.

*

It was almost midnight when they parted. Doyle asked Angel if he and Cordelia
should accompany them to their car, but with a smile Buffy waved the couple off
and wished all her friends a good night.

The moon was almost full, the stars were sparkling, it was night created for
lovers. The blond sighed deeply and leaned her head at Angel's shoulder as they
were walking towards their car, "This was a wonderful evening. Thank you so much
for proposing it."

"My pleasure," he replied and kissed her skull. Pulling her closer he whispered,
"This doesn't have to be over, you know."

She giggled, "I guess not. Maybe we should hurry to get home. I'm not showing the
pregnancy yet but somehow I wouldn't like it in the back of the car tonight."

He grinned, "It's a long time ago that we did it there."

"Uh-huh," she grinned back. "Over a year."

"It was your fault," he reminded her.

"I know. But what can I say, you were just so ... adorable. All wet and smelling
wonderful."

"Wonderful, huh?"

"Hmmmm," she made and Angel opened the car-door for her. He leaned down and
kissed her again, then whispered, "We better hurry then."

He straightened and pushed the door close and with a smile on his face went to
his side. The danger was still haning over them but tonight he wouldn't let it
bother him, he decided. This night was for Buffy and he'd keep her relaxed. A
wicked grin spread across his face, an him as well of course.

Later he didn't know why he never even heard it coming. But all he felt was a
hard knock on his head and then his world went black.
 

 Part 15

Angel groaned when he came to some minutes later. Blinking he noticed his vision
was blurred. It was dark and he was obviously lying on the ground. Looking around
he recognized his car beside him. What the hell...

Buffy!

The thought hit him full speed. His head pounding, the world spinning around him
he struggled on his feet and steadied himself at the car. "Bu ... Buffy," his
voice was only a hoarse whisper as he stumbled towards her side of the car.
"Buffy," he shouted pulling the door open. All he found was emptiness.

*****

Kate Lockley had just fallen asleep when the phone at her nightstand rang. Her
eyes still closed her hand patted over the sheets towards the ringing noise,
"Yeah," she mumbled into the receiver.

"It ... it's Angel," the PI was barely able to keep himself on his feet. "Kate, I
... need help. He ... oh God ... he's got Buffy."

"What do you mean, he's got Buffy? Angel? Can you hear me? Are you alright? What
happened?" She was wide awake now.

"I ...," his voice sounded slurred as if he had difficulties to stay awake.
"Parking space ... call ... Doyle...."

The next think she heard was a thumping sound and she realised the line was still
open. She called, even shouted, his name, but when she got no reaction she broke
the line and dialed Doyle's number. Fortunately he answered after the first
ringing. "Hi, it's Kate Lockley."

"Hi," Doyle and Cordelia had just arrived at their house and had been about to go
to bed. "What's the matter?"

"I just had a call from Angel. He wasn't too clear about it. He said something
about a parking space and to call you. Doyle," her voice sounded urgent now, "it
seems there's something wrong with Buffy. Do you know which parking space it
might be?"

"Oh dear God," the Irishman's voice was full of concern. "He can only mean the
one at the club we just left. Delia and I will be there in a flash. Uhm ... it's
the Nightshade Club ... the adress is ... I dunno, Kate. Somewhere in West
Hollywood. Look it up. See you then."

"Yeah, see you," she told the dead line, then dialed again. "And now I'm going to
kill the cop on duty," she said to herself as she was pulling pants and a shirt
from a drawer.

****

"He left his car over there," Cordelia pointed into a direction and tried to see
something in the darkness. "How good that Mrs. Giles took Camille for the night."

"You can say that," Doyle replied, "there, that's his car."

He braked and he and his wife simultaneously jumped out of the car and ran over,
"Angel ...," the brunette shouted in seeing his unconscious form on the ground.
Dried blook was visible on his forehead in the lights of the car. "Doyle," she
called to her husband. "call an ambulance."

He just glanced at the body of his friend and was already dialing the number.

"Angel," Cordelia said gently, stroking his head. "Come on dearie, open your
eyes. Can you hear me? It's me, Cordy." Carefully she patted his cheeks and
finally he groaned, "Angel, hey, open your eyes now."

"Cor... Cordelia?," he whispered.

"Yes, it's me."

"Buffy," his voice was only a pained groan. "Oh God," he tried to struggle up
again, but she gently held him down.

"Shhh. Stay there, please. You've probably got a concussion. The ambulance is on
its way."

"Need ... to go ... get ... Buffy ...," he whispered, gritting his teeth against
the pounding pain in his head and trying to swallow the nausea he felt in his
stomach. He could only think of his wife who was probably in the claws of that
sick bastard. He needed to ... again he began to struggle and tried to sit up,
this time with more force, but now Cordelia and Doyle kept him down.

"No, my friend," the Irishman squeezed his shoulder. "First you need a doctor to
look after you. You won't help Buffy if you're not well."

"We need to find her Doyle," Angel said urgently, feeling better as the
Adrenaline was pumping through his veins. "I need to find her." Grabbing his
friend's arm he squeezed it - hard. "Doyle, she is pregnant. She could lose the
baby. We need to find her. I don't have time for some doctor or an ambulance.
Every minute counts."

"I know," Cordelia tried to keep her voice as calm as possible although her body
trembled. "We all know that. But please, Doyle is right. The doctor needs to
check on you."

"No," he shook his head emphatically and despite the protests of his friends
managed to stand up in the end. But the moment he stood he wasn't sure anymore if
it had been his best idea ever. Everything was spinning in his head and Cordelia
and Doyle head to steady him. "Oh God," he groaned. "It feels horrible. I can't
even look straight. Doyle," he turned his head but couldn't really make out his
friend. His vision was too confused.

"Yeah," came the reply.

"I don't feel so good," Angel said swaying more than before, barely able to keep
himself upright. "I think I need to sit down again. I just need a moment."

Slowly they lowered him to the ground, leaning his back against the car. Cordelia
was about to scold him again when they heard sirens approaching. It was the
ambulance followed by Kate's car. The police officer jumped out of her car and
ran to the three people sitting or kneeling on the ground. "Angel!," she said and
kneeled down as well. "What happened."

Struggling to keep his eyes open, he said, "We went to the car, we were joking
and ... oh God, Kate, I was careless. This is my fault. If anything happens to
her or the baby ...," he took a deep breath, realising that self-pity wouldn't
help her now. "Anyway. I opened her side, we kissed and I walked over to mine and
then suddenly someone hit me. Next thing I was finding myself on the ground ...
with Buffy gone." He leaned his head back against the car, feeling more nauseous
than before.

"Would you please move away," the doctor joined the group and the other's made
room to give him better access. He first checked Angel's pulse, then used a light
spot for the eyes.

"I need to go," the PI murmured.

"Certainly not," the doctor replied firmly. "You have a severe concussion Mr.
...?"

"Finnegan," Doyle supplied.

"Okay, Mr. Finnegan. There's no way you're going anywhere else than to a
hospital."

Angel grabbed the doctor's coat, "I cannot go into a hospital, do you understand.
Give me something. There's some killer running around and he's got my wife."

"Angel please," Kate kneeled down again and squeezed his arm. "You have to think
rational. You need to be fit to help her. Follow the doctor's orders. At least
for tonight. I promise we'll search for her the whole night. Please."

"No," he shook his head emphatically.

"Angel, you're behaving unprofessional," Cordelia's voice was firm.

"She is pregnant, Cordelia," his eyes pleaded for understanding, "even if he
doesn't kill her ...," his voice broke for a moment and they saw he was fighting
tears that were threatening in his eyes and was desperately struggling for
control, knowing that he couldn't let himself fall apart now. "She already lost a
child and you might remember what happened afterwards. She can't go through it
again."

"But don't you see that you aren't in the condition to help her?," the brunette
argued, exchanging a glance with Kate who was motioning for the doctor to come
back again. In his hand he held a syringe.

"Do it," the police officer whispered. "I'm taking responsibility for it."

The doctor nodded and before Angel realised it he felt a sharp pain in his upper
arm and then his world went black again.

"Good," with a sigh Kate straightened. "Cordelia could you go with him to the
hospital. Doyle?"

The Irishman was at the phone. Finishing the call he looked up, "I'll be with you
Kate. I just called Spike and Dru. We'll need any help we can get. Delia, stay
with him and take care of him for tonight. He's going to hate us all tomorrow,
but as his friends we had to do it." He kissed his wife then nodded at Kate and
they both went for her car.

Cordelia gently stroked over Angel's forehead while he was loaded into the
ambulance. "I'm sorry we had to do this to you, but we couldn't allow for to get
yourself killed. Please, please understand."
 

 Part 16

"Damn, damn, damn," Kate Lockley slapped the wheel with her flat hand and stared
out into the dark. "They just disappeared. How on earth can a man just take a
woman from a parking space and vanish with her into thin air?"

"I wish I knew," Doyle sighed beside her, sipping from the strong tripple
espresso he was holding. He knew this was going to be a long night. Kate had
driven her car to the side because they'd ran out of ideas.

"What the hell are we supposed to tell Angel when he wakes up?," she said, but it
wasn't directed at anyone. The same moment the speaker in her car buzzed.

"Detective Lockley?," came a male voice through the aether.

"Captain," she replied. "Any news?"

"I'm afraid not," he sighed loudly. "There's absolutely nothing. Not one damn
hint. By the way I've dismissed Harrington from active duty for two weeks."

"Good," Kate glanced at Doyle. Tim Harrington had been responsible for Buffy's
security that night. "Well, thanks then, captain."

"We're going to find them, Lockley," he said, but she heard the doubt in his
voice.

"Yeah," not that she was more optimistic. "Later, captain." She leaned back and
for a long while stared at her hands. "She could be dead already, you know that."

A breath came out of Doyle's mouth in a big whoosh. "Yeah, I know. But I refuse
to think into that direction. We need to think positive."

"I know," Kate shook her head, "but I've seen his work with my own hands -
several times. He's cruel, without mercy."

"But then there's still the chance he'll be different with her. After all she's
been his real target all the time," Doyle mused.

"Let's hope you are right, God Doyle, all we can do is hope that you're alright."

****

Buffy woke slowly. She groaned when she started opening her eyes. There was a
bright light in the room. An unfamiliar room. The whole furniture was a desk, two
chairs and one bed she found herself lying on. She tried to move and found her
legs and arms bound, her shoulders already hurting from the fact that her hands
were tied to her back.

She had never been in that room, she was sure of it. She had a pounding headache
and closed her lids against the bright light. The last thing she remembered was
someone pressing a tissue on her face and then ... nothing. Just plain nothing.
Angel had been kissing her and ... oh God, Angel! Where was he? How was he? Was
he hurt? Or even ... no, her mind refused to finish that thought. He had to be
well. He just had to.

She tried to shift her body to see more of her sourroundings. There was a bag
standing beside the door. And shoes. A man's shoes. And then it hit her.

The Killer!

This had to be the man follwing her, observing her, calling her ... she felt cold
sweat on her forehead and between her shoulder-blades, while her heart pounded a
frantic rhythm in her chest. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

"Hi, Buffy."

Her heart almost stopped beating for a moment and her head snapped around. Her
eyes instantly widened, "P... Paul?"

"Yes, it's me," a smile played around his lips as he approached the bed. "You
seem surprised." When she didn't say anything, he continued, "You're afraid,
aren't you?" He reached out to touch her cheek and when she tried to avoid him,
he grabbed her hair and pulled her head roughly towards him, "Don't do this," he
warned. "You are in my power now, Buffy. Do what I want and nothing will happen
to you."

"And you expect me to believe you. You killed eight women already," she hissed,
glad that her voice didn't tremble with the fear she felt to her bones.

"Ah, but they all were just substitutes," he said, his voice soft, oh so soft. It
made Buffy shudder in disgust. "Because you wouldn't give me as much as a
thought. You only thought about screwing that husband of yours, didn't you?" He
was angry now and again pulled at her hair. "Didn't you?," he growled.

"You're hurting me," she told him, feeling her courage slip, because suddenly
she'd thought about the baby she was carrying and the thought it might get hurt
scared her more than anything. She couldn't endanger it.

He didn't loosen his grip, "You hurt me too. Not with your hands of course, but
with the way you were neglecting me. Treating me like a bug."

"Tha ... thats not true," she stuttered, desperately trying to blink tears away
that threatened in her eyes. "Please," she whispered hoarsly and finally he let
her go.

"Well, we will continue this later on. I have to go now. I'll be back later.
Don't try to run away," he said with a pointed look at her bound hands and legs.
When he finally left the room he laughed. Buffy had never felt so helpless
before. She was afraid, for Angel, for herself and for the baby inside of her.
Paul Cook ... oh God, who would've thought. They didn't have a clue. And he was
completely mad. The way he had looked at her, his eyes glittering with insanity.

She shuddered again. You have to be strong, she told herself. They will look for
you. They will come and save you. I just have to hold on, we both have to.
Supressing the despair she felt creeping up her spine, she took a deep breath and
tried to imagine she was lying at a beach with Angel by her side.

*****

"How is he?," Cordelia caught the arm of the doctor who was about to pass her in
rush.

"Are you family?," he asked.

"Uh ... his sister," she lied.

"Well, Mr. Finnegan has a severe concussion. He needs to rest. And we'll be
keeping him for three days at least. He has to stay in a darkened room and sleep
a lot. You can go and see him now. But only for ten minutes." And with this he
rushed to the next emergency, leaving Cordelia to stare after him. How on earth
was she going to explain to Angel that he should stay in bed, especially as his
wife was still missing.

*****

The buzzer began to sum again and Kate's and Doyle's heads simultaneously snapped
up, "Detective Lockely?"

"Garreth, is that you?," she asked.

"Yeah," Garreth Williams replied. He was a young police officer, one of them left
to search the parking space. "Detective, we finally found something."

"You did?," she straightened up in her seat, instantly alert.

"Uh-huh. Seems our killer wasn't as careful as he used to be. He lost ring. We
already checked it and it doesn't belong to Mr. or Mrs. Finnegan. Of course it
could've been there longer, but we don't believe it."

"Why?," Kate asked.

"Because of the inscription. It says 'For Buffy. In Love - Paul.'"

"God, that guy is even sicker than we thought," the blonde police officer
groaned.

"It seems," Garreth agreed. "Does the name Paul tell you anything?," he asked.

"No, but I'll try to find out what it means. Thanks for the quick call Garreth."

"You're always welcome," he said and the the line went off.

"Any idea in hearing the name?," Kate asked turning to Doyle.

"Not really," he replied thoughtfully, "Paul ... Paul ...no," he shook his head
in disbelief, "that couldn't be, could it?"

"What?," she urgently grabbed his arm. "Tell me!"

"They have a neightbour. Buffy and Angel have a neighbour. His name is Paul
Cook," he told her. "But I can't believe ... altought," he paused for a moment.
"One day Angel said he'd been making moves on Buffy..." he trailed off giving
Kate a pointed look.

"We will find out soon," she said and started the car.

"Don't we need a search warrant?," he asked.

"We'll get it while we drive," she replied and pulled out her cell phone.

*

They arrived the apartment house in record time and fortunately Doyle had been
too anxious to get there to think about the way the police officer drove the car.
She drove like a maniac, organising a search warrant while she was doing this,
the way she'd promised before. When she shut down the phone, she explained,
"Judge Michaels and I go way back. We were close for a while until I found out he
was married. Maybe because of it he's eager to help where he can. There we are."

The car came to a screetching halt and they jumped out of it, Kate reaching for
her gun while running towards the elevator. "You take the stairs, Doyle. We'll
meet upstairs."

She was already waiting in front of the apartment door when he reached her,
pulling out his gun as well. She raised her brow but didn't comment it. Then she
rang the bell. When nothing happened, she said, "Mr. Cook. This is the L.A.
police department. We have a search warrant for your apartment. Please open the
door."

"Seems there's nobody at home," Doyle said after a while. Kate nodded and 
stepped back. Then her foot shot out and the door gave way.
 

 Part 17

Kate and Doyle hurried down the hallways of the hospital until they had reached
Angel's room. "You go," the police officer told the Irishman. "It's your wife and
your best friend in there. Go, tell them."

"I doubt Angel is up yet," Doyle replied, "Or we wouldn't stand in front of his
room. I guarantee that the moment he awakes is the moment he's going to walk out
of here."

Kate sighed and nodded, "You're probably right. Maybe we just go together. If he
wakes up...," she trailed off giving him a pointed look.

"He's going to kill us, you know that."

"No," she said drily. "He's going to kill me. After all I was the one who told
the doctor to use a tranquilizer on him to keep him in bed for at least one
night." With another sigh, deeper this time, she pushed the door open.

There was only a dim light in the room and the saw Cordelia sitting on a chair
where she'd obviously fallen asleep. She stirred instantly when they entered and
blinked. "Oh, hi," she whispered and looked at Angel who was still out cold.
"Anything new?"

Doyle walked over and kneeled down beside her, "How are you feeling?," he asked.

"A bit tired, and worried of course, but I'm fine," she nodded reassuringly. "Now
tell me. Did you find anything?"

"We did," Kate replied and turned her head towards the sleeping PI who just began
to stirr.

"Uh ... uh, he's waking up," Cordelia yawned, then stood and cautiously
approached the bed. "Angel?"

"Cor ... Cordelia?," his voice was loaded with sleep and a bit slurred. Opening
his eyes he looked around, "Where ... oh God, Buffy," he sat up quickly only to
hold his head between his hands as the world began to spin again. "God, I feel
horrible. What happened? What about Buffy?" His concerned gaze wandered over the
faces of his friends.

"You called me last night, do you remember that?," Kate asked.

"Yeah," he replied and winced when he tried to nod.

"Someone must have hit you on your head or more precisely ...," she paused for a
moment, then taking a deep breath continued, "It was the man who took Buffy. The
killer."

"Oh God," Angel burried his face in his hands for a moment, then his head snapped
up, "I need to get out of here ... I ...," he suddenly stared at Kate, "They gave
me something," his voice was a dangerous growl now. "You!," he almost shouted and
winced again as the pounding in his head intensified.

"Angel," she sat down beside him, "there was no way you could have gone searching
for her last night. You had ... have ... a serious concussion and you needed at
least one night of sleep."

"The hell I needed it," he shouted and looked at Doyle, "get me my pants and my
shirt. I need to go."

"Listen," Kate took his arm and he impatiently shook her hand off. "Angel," she
touched him again and this time - maybe because of the urgency in her voice - he
turned to her.

"What?," he snapped.

"The killer. We know who he is."

"What?," Cordelia and Angel asked simultaneously.

"It's your neighbour," Doyle told them. "Paul Cook."

"Paul Co ...," the other man shook his head as if he had to clear his mind first
before he could continue, "Oh God, and I never had an idea. I saw him almost each
day," he ran a hand through his hair. "All the time he was close to her and
now..," his voice broke and he closed his eyes for a moment. "How do you know?,"
he asked then, barely managing to stay calm.

"We found a ring at the parking space with his and ... and Buffy's name on it."

"Oh God," Angel groaned. "He must be completely insane. Go on!"

"Doyle and I went to his apartment and," she had to take a deep breath. What
they'd found there - to their disappointment - hadn't been Buffy, but it had made
her sick to the bone. "He has made a shrine for her. He has pictures of her.
There's a room," she shook her head. "You can look yourself if you want. And he's
kept pictures of his other victims. He even photographed them when they were
already dead."

"This guy is so sick," Cordelia shuddered visibly. "And to think he's got Buffy
now...," she trailed off, realising her slip the minute it was out of her mouth.
"Angel I..."

"No," he held up his hand. "You did the right thing. I need to get out of here
now. Doyle, my pants please and Cordy, Kate, could you wait outside for a
moment?"

*****

"Any trace in the apartment where he might be?," Angel asked when they were
finally sitting in Kate's car. The police officer pulled it out of the parking
space and looked at him.

"No, not really," she sadly shook her head, "do you want to go there now?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "maybe we'll find something, anything. But first," he glanced
at Cordelia on the back seat, "we need to get her home. She is pregnant and needs
some rest." His thoughts instantly went to another preganat woman and he had to
close his eyes for a moment to prevent himself to fall apart. Not now, he told
himself, you cannot let go now. She needs you, this isn't time and place for
self-pity.

"I don't need to...," the brunette tried to protest, but was cut off by her
husband.

"The hell you don't," he said. "Angel is right. I get you home and then'll join
you again." Suddenly he remembered something,  "We also need to inform Buffy's
parents."

"Oh God," all colour drained from Angel's face, "Joyce and Giles have no idea ...
how am I going to tell them?"

"You won't. I'm going. I need to get Camille anyway," the Irishman told him.

"No," his friend shook his head. "She's my wife. Kate, could you go to Buffy's
parents first. We can get Camille and I'm going to tell him."

"Are you sure?," she asked.

"Positive," he replied. "Let's go." He glanced at his watch, "It's after eight
already, I'm sure they're up."

*****

"My poor baby," Joyce sat at her kitchen table, her teary eyes on Angel. When
they'd arrived at her home, they had only found Mrs. Giles and Camille. Giles was
at work and Steven gone to school.

"Mommy, is aunt Joyce sad?," Camille who was sitting on Cordelia's lap watched
the scenery with big eyes.

"Yes, dearie," the brunette replied. "She's worried because aunt Buffy is not
there."

"Where is aunt Buffy?," the girl wanted to know.

"We don't know sweetie," her father answered and stroked his daughter's head. He
could understand very well what was going on in Mrs. Giles' head.

"Joyce," Angel reached out and covered her hand with his. "I'm so sorry, I ..."

"It wasn't your fault," she said, turned her hand and squeezed his.

"I should've paid attention," he insisted. "We were too careless and ...

"That's nonsense," Cordelia's angry voice sounded in the kitchen. "If anyone is
to blame for this it's this stupid police officer who didn't do his job."

"She's right," Kate agreed. "And it doesn't really matter now. The only thing
important is to find her. And fast."

****

Numb arms and hands and a searing pain in her shoulders were the first things
Buffy felt when she woke up again. The bright light was still hurting her eyes
but this time she instantly realised she wasn't alone. Paul Cook was sitting on a
chair at the table and had obviously fallen asleep. His face was relaxed and
almost soft like this. It was hard to believe that this man had killed eight
women and held her prisoner. But then he was insane and these people rarely
showed their true face.

Why hadn't he tried to kill her, she wondered? Why had he brought her to a room?
What did he intend to do? She remembered that all the other women had been raped
before he'd killed them and she shuddered at the thought that he might do it to
her as well. She felt her mouth go dry and closed her eyes to block out the
images that formed in her head.

Should she tell him that she was pregnant? Would it change anything? But no,
she'd seen his face and by no means he would let her go now. Her only chance was
escape or hope that Angel would find her. Opening her eyes again she dared to
look around and noticed that the bottle he'd been probably drinking from had
fallen off the table, the broken pieces scattered allover the floor. If she'd be
able to ... she had to try, for her sake, for the baby, for Angel, she had to try
and so she cautiously shifted on the bed, ignoring the pain in her shoulders.
When her fingers were only inches away Paul suddenly stirred
 

 Part 18

"I've seen a lot during my time as a PI but this...," Angel shook his head and
leaned his back against the wall in Paul's apartment. He and Kate had arrived
five minutes before and now they were standing in the room that Paul had
transformed into something like a shrine. There were hundreds of pictures of
Buffy at the wall, Paul must have followed her for quite some time. He had even
spent time on a computer and made some with him and her on them, positioned like
a couple. Angel had to fight the nausea settling in his stomach.

And then there were the photos of the women he'd killed. It showed that Paul Cook
was truly insane. He'd obviously savoured to see their frightened eyes, their
panic ... Angel turned and left the room, not able to stand looking at this any
longer. How sick had person to be to enjoy something like that? To enjoy other
people's fear.

"Angel?," Kate's voice interrupted his thoughts. "What do you think?"

"What I think?," he snapped. "I think this guy needs to be put away for a long
time," he ran a hand through his hair and gave her an apologetic look, "I'm
sorry, Kate. I didn't want to take this out on you, it's just..."

She walked over to him and put a hand on his arm, "I understand. There's no need
to apologize. I even admire you for keeping up like this. I would probably freak
out."

"No, you wouldn't," he gave her a small smile. "You would do the same as I, what
needs to be done."

"Yes, probably," she agreed after a moment of hesitation, but she knew he was
right. She would do what had to be done, she was too much a police officer to
fall apart in any situation, but she knew she would be shaken to the bone and so
she squeezed his arm for a moment before letting go. "Now, again, what do you
think?"

Angel shook his head, "I don't know. Truth is, I have no damn idea. God, this guy
is so sick, how can anyone of us have any idea what's going on in his head?"

"I called the shrink on our way to the hospital," Kate told him. "She said, he's
obsesses with Buffy," she rolled her eyes, "as if we didn't know that already.
But anyway. She also said that he won't kill her, not now. He has waited so long
to get to her, he will try to keep her for a while to make up for lost time or so
to say."

"And that's supposed to make me feel batter?," he shot her a look. "Did you
forget what he did to the other women?"

"No," she took a deep breath, "I didn't. But Angel, it means also that she's
almost certainly alive."

"Almost isn't good enough, Kate. And the mere thought he might ... he could ...
he probably ...," his voice broke and a visible shudder ran through his body. He
desperately tried to block out the images that began to form in his head. But it
didn't work. They flashed before his inner eye like parts of a bad movie. One
horror scenario after the other. "God, Kate," he groaned. "Where is she?," he
asked desperately, "Where is she?"

*****

Buffy froze instantly when she heard him shift his head on his arm. Her eyes
darted to his sleeping form and when she realised he hadn't been waking up she
released the breath she'd been holding.

Shifting her back over the bed she finally streched her numb fingers and tried to
reach one of the glass pieces. It was difficult without feeling anything, but
finally she managed to pick one of them. As silent as possible she shifted her
body into its former position on the bed and slowly tried to cut her bonds.

*****

The noise of a ringing phone shattered the silence that had settled over Paul's
apartment. "Yeah," Kate answered.

"It's Garreth again. There's some news."

"Spill."

"Our search told us that this Cook-guy has a little cabin north of the city at a
little lake, he uses for holidays."

"Where?," she asked, suddenly excited. This was a trace, the first real trace. A
cabin, somewhere in the wilderness, hadn't the shrink said something about the
possiblitly that he'd be trying to hide her away?

"Hold on," Garreth searched through some papers on his desk, spilling a
half-filled cup of cold coffee over some others. He was dead tired and had - like
most of his collegues - spent the night at the police station. Swearing silently
he finally found what he was searching for and said, "Do you have pen and paper,
Detective? I'll give you directions."

"Yes, spill it," she replied and began to scribble everything down. "Alright,
I've got it. Thanks. You're great." She shut down the phone and gazed at Angel
who was looking at her expectantly. "Let's go. Garreth gave me an adress, a
little cabin, Paul Cook owns. It would be perfect for him. The county sheriff has
been informed. They'll be probably there before us."

Without a word Angel turned and together they headed for the car.

*****

Buffy bit her lower lip and suppressed a cry of pain that was forming in her
throat when the bonds gave way and the blood was pumping back into her hands. She
shifted her shoulders and bit down even harder. God, her shoulders, arms and
hands hurt. Slowly, carefully she wriggled her fingers, her eyes never leaving
Paul's form at the table as she did so. He mustn't know she was free. Free, what
a joke, her hands were free, yes, but her legs were still bound and she didn't
want to risk him finding her cutting through the bonds and of course she was
still in a small room with a madman who probably wanted to rape and finally kill
her ... and all because of some twisted love he believed to feel for her.

So she just shifted her arms into a more comfortable position and tried to think
of a way out of this mess.

*****

"If you drive any faster, we're never going to get to this cabin in one piece,"
Doyle muttered from the back seat. They'd stopped by his house to pick him up as
it was on their way.

"I just hope the sheriff and his men out there are capable of handling a
kidnapping," Kate said ignoring the Irishman's comment. "The last we need now is
some idiotic county sheriff who wants to become a hero by capturing a wanted
killer."

"Oh that's really encouraging," Angel replied sarcastically.

"Sorry," Kate shrugged, "but I had my share of experience with people like that.
They mostly spend their time writing tickets for fast drivers."

"Next turn left," Doyle said. "Maybe someone else could direct her," he
suggested, "then at least I could close my eyes and pretend we're not driving
like maniacs."

"Shut up, Doyle," Kate shot him a look through the rear mirror. "I'm a police
officer. Besides race car drivers we're the best car drivers on this planet. I'm
used to driving fast."

"There's fast and there's crazy," he muttered, but didn't comment any further. He
could see the tension on Angel's face and decided he probably wasn't in the mood
for these things.

"She'll be alright," Kate tried to assure the man who was sitting beside her. He
hadn't said a lot since they'd left the L.A. city limits, but she had noticed the
tension in his body and the slight trembling of his hands. He was on the edge and
Kate couldn't blame him.

"Yeah," he replied through gritted teeth, a frown appearing on his forehead when
they finally reached the forrest where the cabin was meant to be. "I hope you're
right," he said after a while. "I hope to God you're right."

*****

She needed to free her legs, Buffy had decided after some minutes. There was no
way around it. She had no chance to escape as long as her legs were tightly
bound. And it would need some more minutes to get the feeling in them back. So
her eyes on Paul's form she carefully shifted her legs, flexed her knees and
moved her feet towards her hands. Then she slowly began to scratch them with the
glass fragment. There was only slow progress and when the bonds finally gave way
after minutes that had been like an eternity for her, she heard the sirens of
police cars.
 

 Part 19

Paul Cook came awake like a launched rocket. He'd heard the police sirens as well
and his eyes wildly darted towards the door. "What the hell...," he swore and
moved to the window that was closed with heavy curtains. He almost couldn't
believe his eyes when he saw three county police cars approaching his cabin in
the forrest. How had they found out about it he wondered. He was so concentrated
on what was happening out there that he completely forgot about his captive not
that he thought about watching her anyway. She was tightly bound after all. So it
was a more than a surprise for him when something hard connected with his head
and he stumbled to the ground.

*****

"These idiots," Kate hissed, when they heard the sounds of police sirens. "Why
not call him first?"

"Kate?," Doyle asked from the back seat, at the same time squeezing Angel's
shoulder. He was tense like a bow.

"Forget it," the police officer replied and drove the car around the last corner.
The cabin and the police cars came in sight. And then suddenly there was
something else. Someone was leaving the house and it wasn't Paul Cook.
Kate could hear the sharp intake of breath beside her and she got the car to a
screetiching halt.

Even before the car had truly stopped Angel was out of it ignoring the angry
shouts of the police officers around him, his eyes focussed only on one person.
She was pale, but God, she was alive. She was alive!

The cry that tore from his throat was only one word and Kate spontaneously
reached out for Doyle's arm when she heard it. "Buffy!"

*

Buffy stumbled out of the door on wobbely legs, still almost without feeling, and
stared at the police cars in front of the cabin. Suddenly she heard it. She heard
someone calling her name, and she knew she'd recognize this voice everywhere.

And then she was in his arms, felt his lips on her face, felt him pressing her
against him, heard him repeat her name like a prayer of thanks. They were
tumbling to the ground, kneeling in the dirt, but never letting go of each other.
"Buffy," he whispered again and took her head between his large hands. "Oh God,"
he choked and she could see tears running down his cheeks. "We found you, God,
we found you." He pressed her to his body again, stroking her back and she clung
to him, sobbing, stroking, whispering.

"I'm okay," she told him, "I'm okay," she repeated noticing the trembling of his
body. "Everything is okay."

"I almost lost you," he said with a trembling voice. Then suddenly he pulled back
and his hands began to search her body for injuries. Both were completely unaware
of the fact that the police had entered the cabin and that Paul Cook had been led
to one of the police cars, his eyes full of hatred in seeing the couple reunited.

"Did he hurt you," Angel wanted to know in an urgent voice. "Did that bastard
hurt you?"

"No," she assured him and took his head between her hands. "He didn't hurt me,
Angel. Not in any way." Their eyes met and the silent message passed between
them. He closed his eyes for a moment and released a breath, fighting with new
tears, tears of relief as the tension slowly left his body. She stroked his
cheek. "He just bound me and deposed me on a bed. There was no time for him to
hurt me." She looked up when she saw Kate and Doyle coming towards them. "Hi,"
she greeted them with a half-smile.

"Hi Buffy," Kate kneeled down beside them. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she nodded and tried a half-smile, then looked back into Angel's eyes who
were watching her all the time. "Yes. I'm okay." Kate and Doyle exchanged a
glance of their own.

"I'm going to call 'Delia and your parents," the Irishman told Buffy. "They need
to know."

Slowly Angel stood and held his hand out for Buffy who came to stand on still
unsure feet. When she stumbled he instantly caught her and then just scooped in
his arms. "Hey, I can walk," she protested, but liked to feel secure and loved
again.

"Let me hold you," he whispered hoarsly, "I almost lost you, just let me hold
you."

She stroked the back of his neck while he was carrying her to Kate's car. At half
distance the sheriff stopped them. "Sir, Miss, I need to talk to you. We have to
do a protocol ..."

"Screw your damned protocol," Angel almost shouted, "my wife barely escaped from
an insane killer who's already murdered eight innocent women. Your protocol will
wait until tomorrow."

"I have to insist...," the sheriff started again, but was cut off.

"No," Angel shook his head and tightened his hold on Buffy, "There won't be any
interrogation today. My wife needs to rest now. End of discussion." And with this
he just continued to walk to the car. The sheriff started after him when he felt
a hand on his arm.

"Let him go," Kate said quietly but there was a warning in her voice. "They just
went through hell. I will do the stuff tomorrow and send you a copy." He was
about to protest and so she decided to make herself clear, "Look, my friend, this
woman was captured and held prisoner by a freak, her husband was hit on the head
and still suffers from a severe concussion. If you're not going to back away I
will feel the urgent need to report that you approached the place of a kidnapping
with the sirens on." She raised a brow when she saw him swallow - hard. "Did I
make myself clear?"

"Very clear," he nodded, then turned and walked over to his men.

Kate nodded at Doyle who grinned. Unable to suppress her own grin the two of them
followed the couple.

****

"You look tired," Buffy said gazing into Angel's eyes.

"I'm alright. It wasn't me who was kidnapped and abused by a maniac," he replied
stroking her cheek.

"He sure looks tired," Kate said from the driver's seat. "But regarding the fact
that he's got a severe concussion he does quite well."

"A concussion," Buffy gasped and her eyes were roaming her husband's form who
shot the police officer an angry look. "You should be in bed," she scolded
gently.

"Kate's exaggerating as always," Angel said, sending Doyle a glance that dared
him to object.

"He's got a head as hard as a rock," the Irishman said promptly. "Nothing can
damage it for good."

"Do you have a headache?," Buffy asked.

"I'm okay," he repeated his words from before. "Now, I'm truly okay," he added
and planted a kiss on her mouth. He was sitting on the backseat, his wife
securely in his lap, his one arm gently draped around her back the other lying
protectively over her front, the hand stroking her stomach.

"I called your mom and Delia," Doyle said after a moment. "They're all happy and
relieved of course. Your mom wanted you to come home, but I could convince her
that you two need some privacy now."

"Thanks," Buffy gave him a grateful smile. "How did you find out where I was?,"
she suddenly wanted to know.

"Police work," Kate said with a shrug. "Despite all rumors the police is very
thorough. A friend of mine crosschecked several possiblities and then found about
that cabin. But we were not sure you'd be there."

"I had no idea where I was," the younger blond leaned her head against her
husband's shoulder. "He said that the others were just substitutes. God, he's
really insane."

"Yes, he is," Kate agreed. "And he will be locked away for a very long time.
Hopefully forever."

"To think that he was so normal," Angel shook his head, "I mean I didn't like
him, I didn't like how he looked at Buffy although knowing she was married. But I
would've never thought...," he trailed off.

"The really freaking part is, you could meet some Paul Cook every day without
knowing it. I wonder if I'm going to suspect people all the time now."

"You won't Doyle," Kate glanced shortly at him. "But you lost your innocence. You
all did," she sighed. "I lost mine long ago. You know what I mean. Up to a
certain point in your life you're suggesting the unknown stranger across the
street is perfectly innocent. If something like this," she glanced at Buffy and
Angel through the rear mirror, "happens it just stops. You watch people more
closely and you believe people are capable of horrible crimes."

"This is so creepy," Doyle shuddered.

There was a moment of silence when Buffy suddenly said, "Could we probably go to
a hospital?," she asked.

"Hospital?," Angel was instantly alert. His hands were checking her body. "I
thought you said ... nevermind, where do you hurt?," he looked at her in concern.

She locked her eyes with him, "Angel, I'm bleeding."

"Bleeding?," his hands began to wander again, checking for scratches, for wounds.
"I can't find anything, Buffy, I know you're scared and probably ..."

"No," she gently removed his hands, but he could see the fear in her eyes and
instantly felt the panic crawl up his spine. "Angel, I'm bleeding vaginally."
 

 Part 20

God, how he hated hospitals. He hadn't been there very often himself and all the
times he remembered friends or family being there had been emergencies. The night
Sarah had been killed, the other night when Buffy had been stabbed, the Christmas
Eve his sister had gone into early labour. He drew a shaky breath, clearly
remembering the evening when he'd been called about Buffy and then the doctor had
told him about her having lost the baby.

Angel closed his eyes and leaned his back against the wall. He'd left the waiting
room some minutes ago, not able to be around his friends and Buffy's parents any
longer. Their concerned glances, their teary gazes ... it was more he could bear
at the moment.

It had started to rain outside and Angel looked beyond his own reflection in the
window out into the dark night. Buffy had disappeared behind the door of the
emergency room over two hours ago and there hadn't been any news and slowly, very
slowly he was going insane. Quietly, unvisibly but still as surely insane. His
gut had turned into a knot the size of a basketball.

The fear in Buffy's eyes when she'd told him about her bleeding vaginally. Angel
ran a shaky hand through his hair. The panic had set in instantly and powerfully.
No, not again, his whole being had cried out. Oh God, please no. They had been
clinging to each other on the back seat while Kate had broken all speed limits of
the state California. Angel had kept touching his wife all the time, her hair,
her pale cheeks, her throat and he had gently kissed her worried eyes. They
hadn't spoken one word on their way to the hospital. Their locked eyes sending
any message necessary. There was fear. Fear to go through that nightmare again
after all they'd been through already.

At the entrance of the ER she was whisked away on a gurney. Admitting her to the
hospital had been an endless procedure or questions and forms to be filled out.
Once it was done, Angel went back to the ER where the OB had asked questions
relating to her being held captive. The first 'Do you know if she's been raped?'
almost drove him over the edge. Struggling to keep himself under control he
remembered her words that Paul Cook hadn't hurt her and so he shook his head
'No'. The doctor had then patted his arm and smiled, 'I'm sure she'll be
alright, Mr. Finnegan.' 'What about the baby?', he'd asked. 'I'll let you know.'

That had been more than two hours ago and still the doctor hadn't come back. What
the hell was taking him so long? Had the bleeding been more dangerous after all?
Had they rushed her into surgery? Was now even her life in danger as the child's?

"No," Angel moaned and started hearing his own voice in the empty hallway. God,
please, God, don't do that to her. Not again. She's gone through so much already.
Hearing a noise from the elevator he turned his head only to see Georgie run
towards him. Panting heavily she stopped only one foot away and looked into his
face.

"Angel," she looked at him.

"What are you doing here?," he asked and felt instantly stupid for doing so. She
was his sister, she loved him and she was there to help him. But he couldn't let
go right now. He needed to keep himself up, for Buffy, for ...

"What happened? Cordelia said something about kidnapping, about a stalker, I
didn't even know about it."

He took a deep breath, "Someone was calling her, sending her letters, taking
photgraphs ... we found out it was the same man who'd been killing eight women of
her type before. Last night he surprised us in front of a club. We both were
joking, not paying attention. He hit me and took her ... we found her some hours
ago and it seemed as if she'd not been hurt but then she suddenly realised she
was bleeding vaginally."

Georgie's hand flew to her mouth, "Oh no." She swallowed, "Do you ... do you know
anything?"

"No," he shook his head and turned away, not able to face her anymore. "They put
her on a gurney over two hours ago and ...," his voice broke. His whole body
tensed when he felt his sister's arms circling his waist from behind, her chest
leaning against his back. "Don't you need to be at home?," he asked. "Who's
taking care of Daniel?"

She wasn't about to let him retreat from her, "Gavin is at home of course. Don't
do this, Angel. Don't pull away." She managed to wriggle herself around his body
so that she finally stood in front of him and looked up in his face. "You can
lean on me a little bit tonight. You let me lean on you countless times when I
was a girl, when I was a teenager, now I'm here for you. If you want."

"I...," he hesitated, "... God, Georgie," it finally came out of him. "How are we
supposed to handle losing another child? What if she's hurt badly? What if ...,"
he tightened his hold on his sister and she stroked his back.

"Shhh," she made, "it'll be alright. Angel, Buffy is strong. You don't know if
she's going to lose the baby, but even if she does... you both went through this
once, you'll do it again."

They just held each other like that for a while until the shudders in his body
subsided and he became calmer. Finally he pulled back. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"You're welcome," she gave him a quick smile. "That's what family is for. We're
together in this. Buffy is part of our family." She stopped and then tilted her
head, "Talking about family. Where are her parents, her brother?"

"The waiting room," he replied nodding down the hallway. "I just couldn't stand
it in there anymore."

"I understand," she said softly, squeezing his arm. "I'm just going to say hello
and will be right back."

"You don't need to hurry for my sake," he told her.

"But for my sake I do," she replied and walked off.

Looking at her retrieving form Angel couldn't help but smile. She was still his
stubborn little sister. She was married and had a kid of her own, but nothing
would ever change Georgie.

A door opened and he whirled around. At the end of the corridor he could see the
OB coming from the emergency room. Angel began to move, his long strides eating
up the distance between them. "How is she?," he asked hoarsly before the doctor
had any chance to speak.

"She's going to be fine," the doctor replied with a nod at Joyce who was coming
up behind Angel. And before anyone could ask, he added, "And so is the baby.
Maybe from the stress a vaginal blood vessel burst. This happens sometimes during
early stages of pregnancy. It wasn't dangerous and it wasn't much bleeding at
all. But of course it frightened your wife."

"So they're both alright?," Angel asked in a whisper, not really able to process
the news. He glanced at Joyce who had taken his arm.

"Yes, as I already said. We've cauterized the vessel and I just did an ultrasound
to see if the baby was doing fine. It does. The fetus isn't affected in any way."
He glanced over his shoulder towards the ER. "Your wife has been relocated to her
room. It's 222. You can go and see her now. I would recommend a few days of rest,
but after that she'll be as good as new."

Angel mumbled his thanks and with a smile the doctor left. Angel's friends and
family sourrounded him in the hallway, but he couldn't talk to them now. Sending
them an apologetic glanzes he hurried away to the only person he wanted to be
with right now. In front of the room he paused for a moment and took a deep
breath. Then he pushed the door open.

She turned her head when he entered the room and in the dim light he could still
see traces of the fearful last hours on her face, but she was smiling now when
she saw him. "Angel," she motioned him to come closer and he sat down on the edge
of her bed, taking her hand in his.

"How are you?," he asked softly.

"Much better now." The smile grew radiant when she added, "We both are much
better."

"Buffy," he choked out and kissed the back of her hand. "Oh my Darling, waiting
out there, not knowing ...," his voice broke and he pulled her close, burrying
his head in her hair. "I love you," he mumbled. "I love you so much."

"I know," she replied and stroked his head. "I was so afraid," she admitted. "I
was so afraid I was going to lose this child too."

"Me too," he said and looked at her again, cupping her head in his hands. "I
thought I was going insane out there. I couldn't even stand to be with your
parents or our friends anymore. So I left to be on my own. Still it didn't really
help until Georgie came. She just held me and seemed to know what I needed."

"They're all out there?," she asked incredolously.

"Oh yeah," he smiled for the first time. "The whole bunch. Kate, Doyle, Cordelia,
your parents, your brother, Camille, even Willow and Oz who have been with your
mother when Doyle called her. And Georgie of course."

"Wow," was all she could say at that. "It's as if I'm the Queen of England."

"You're certainly more important to me," he said honestly and stroked her cheeks
with his thumbs. "You must be tired, love."

"I am," she admitted on a sigh.

"Do you want me to send them away?," he asked with a concerned look in his eyes.
"I don't want you to exhaust yourself. For a pregnant woman you had enough
exitement to last for some months."

"I really could do with some sleep," she agreed. "But I want to see Mom and
Giles. Could you tell them to come in. But please don't go. Please stay for a
while."

"I'll stay as long as you want me," he said and kissed her again.
 

 Epilogue

6 1/2 months later

"Angel?"

"Mmmph."

"Angel!," Buffy repeated and gently shook his shoulder.

"W... what," he mumbled in his pillow and opened one eye to glance at the clock
on the nightstand. "Buffy," he groaned. "It's in the middle of the night. Go back
to sleep."

She had to giggle at his attitude. Waking him up from fitful slumber was a
guarantee to get aquainted to a grumpy husbamd. Still, "Darling, I know you hate
to get up in the middle of the night, but my contractions are only ten minutes
apart now and maybe we should go to the hospital."

"Mmmmph ... WHAT?!" He bolted upright in his bed and reached for the light.
Staring at her with wide, panicking eyes his gaze roamed her body, "B... but it's
too early," he stuttered.

She smiled and touched his cheek, "Only two weeks and early or not, Junior
Finnegan has decided it's time."

"Why didn't you wake me earlier?," he asked while getting up and hastily dressing
himself.

She shrugged, "There was no need. It's still time with the contractions ten
minutes apart but I thought we'll better be on the safe side."

"Oh, my love," he sat down beside her on the bed and put his hand on her swollen
abdomen. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she assured him, "we're both fiiii...., uh, uh, ooooh," she clenched her
teeth and gripped his hand, squeezing it hard. After some seconds she was able to
relax again, "Wow, that was stronger than before. We better get going."

*

Buffy smiled at her husband who hadn't left her side since they'd arrived at the
hospital two hours ago. She was exhausted and sweaty, her contractions came more
often now and since ten minutes the doctor and a nurse had joined them in the
delivery room.

"Okay, Buffy," doctor Maggie Lowell gave her a smile. "At the next contraction
you'll start to push."

"Push?," the blond groaned, "I already feel as if I've run the Boston marathon."

Dr. Lowell grinned, "I have four kids of my own, don't expect pity from me."

"Oh great," Buffy rolled her eyes, "that's really what I need right now."

The nurse and Maggie Lowell laughed while Angel was watching his wife with
concerned eyes. God, she was so delicate, so fragile. "I'm here love."

"I know," she gave him a smile. "I ... ooooh ... ohhh Goooooooood," she screamed
when the next contraction hit her. Whoever said a birth was something sacred
hadn't experienced one himself. Probably a man, no, only a man, Buffy decided,
could talk like this.

"Push, Buffy," the nurse ordered. "Push."

"I am pushing," the blond hissed through clenched teeth.

"You're doing great," Angel told her and kissed her hand. "Just a little bit
more, love."

"More!," she echoed. "Do you want to change places, huh?," she snapped.

Dr. Lowell laughed at Angel's shocked expression, "Just ignore her. That's
nothing special during labor."

He gave her a tight smile, but turned back to his wife who was breathing hard.

"Alright, Buffy," Maggie Lowell looked at the exhausted woman before her, "that
was great. Next time you try a little bit harder. I can already see the head.
It'll soon be over. Soon you'll know what you're going to have."

"Uh-huh," the blond nodded exchanging a glance with Angel and giving him an
apologetic smile. "We'll see our baby soon," she said and he leaned towards her
and kissed her sweaty forehead.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I know, and I'm sooooooooooooo ... uh ... uh," she groaned.

"Push, ... that's great ... come on Buffy, push", the nurse ordered, "yes,
there's the head. Just a little bit more. One last push, Buffy."

"Uuuuuuh," the blond groaned again and clenched her teeth, gripping Angel's hand
so hard that he thought she'd broken all his fingers. God, how could she stand
this, it was tearing him apart to see her like this. No more children, he vowed,
one was enough. At least for some years.

"That's it, there," the nurse grinned from ear to ear. "It's a little boy," she
told them.

"Oh, Angel," Buffy had tears in her eyes, "we have a boy. Our son."

"I know my love," he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

"Now, Angel, do you want to cut the cord?," Maggie Lowell asked and handed him
the scissors.

"Me?," he was a bit nervous but took the scissors nevertheless. Dr. Lowell showed
him how to do it and the moment the cut was done the baby began to cry.

*

"Look at him, Angel, isn't he wonderful?," Buffy asked while the baby was
greedily sucking at her breasts.

"He is, you both are," he replied with awe in his voice. Buffy with their child
in her arms was the most beautiful picture he could imagine.

"I think Rogan is going to fit," she said after a moment.

"I'm only glad you didn't name him Angel," he smiled and kissed the baby's skull.

"I like the name," she looked at him and grinned. "It's very unusual and it fits
you."

He groaned, "Sure. Thanks."

"Oh honey," she had to laugh at his expression. "But I can understand that it was
hard to live with it as a child. But Rogan is a lovely name and it's your middle
name. I always wanted to name my first son after his father ... and I did."

"Aren't you tired?," he asked after a while.

"A little bit," she admitted and stiffled a yawn. "All the family and friends
were a bit exhausting, but it's great to know they all care."

"My mom and dad will be coming tomorrow," he told her. "They send you their love
and they can't wait to see their new grand-child." He laughed, "I think mom
wanted to strangle the travel agent when he told her the earliest possible flight
would be tomorrow morning."

"I bet," she grinned, then looked at her son who had fallen asleep with her
nipple still in his mouth. "Angel, could you take him?," she asked.

"Sure," he reached out and gently took his son from his mother's breast. The
infant didn't stirr, just continued slumbering in his father's arms while Buffy
closed her nightgown.

"I can't wait to go home with him. Dr. Lowell said if everything is alright we
can go tomorrow afternoon."

"Just take it easy," he told her. "He gave you a hard time, I know it, I was
there." He kissed the baby again, "Eight pounds, five ounces. Not really a light
weight."

"No," she agreed. "But he's healthy and we're going to make sure he'll always be
a happy baby and child."

"That we'll take care of." Carefully he placed the baby in his crib the nurse had
moved to Buffy's room. Then he came back to the bed and sat down on the edge.
"Are you really okay," he asked and stroked her cheek.

"Yes. I feel great, just a bit tired. But I've never been so happy in my life."

"Me neither," he said and kissed her hand. "I love you. Both of you."

"Me too," she replied her eyes already closing. "Stay?," she asked.

"I will," he whispered and watched her sighing contently. "My love."

END