Unforgettable cont2.- by Jill

Unforgettable

There were other police cars on the scene already when Xander brought his to a screeching halt in front of the small suburban house. A uniformed officer was busy applying tape around the crime scene.

Even before the car stopped completely, Buffy jumped out and ran for the house. Pushing everyone in the way aside, she stormed through the door, shouting Angel's name. She had to expected him lying there, in his blood, maybe on the brink of dying, but she was completely unprepared for the scene that met her eyes.

Angel was sitting on the ground, Riley's head in his lap, while Spike stood with two other detectives asking them to call the FBI. A woman she didn't know was kneeling by Angel's side.

Sensing the commotion at the door Angel looked up and his eyes instantly locked with Buffy's who gasped in shock. He was holding Riley, and from a hole in her husband's chest came a constant stream of blood. Angel had obviously tried to apply pressure by using his shirt, because there was something unidentifiable, soaked with blood and Angel was bare-chested.

Buffy's eyes flew to Spike, who looked at her the moment he became aware of her presence. He shook his head slightly, indicating her without words that Riley wouldn't make it.

Buffy kneeled down beside Angel and her eyes found his again. They communicated silently over Riley's dying form and there was pure love in their eyes. Suddenly Riley's head moved in Angel's lap and his eyelids fluttered, "Angel," he whispered, then his eyes fell on his wife, "Buffy," he said and smiled. "Good to see you. I'm sorry." He coughed and felt the sharp pain in his chest.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and then nodded, "I know," she replied, giving him a smile. "I know you didn't want to hurt me, Riley."

"No," he shook his head, another cough wracking his body, and he tasted blood in his mouth. He was really going to die today, he thought. He should've known from the expression on the faces that were looking down on him. "No, that's - that's not what I mean," he whispered. "Although I'm sorry for that too." He chuckled slightly and it hurt. "I'm sorry for so many things, I don't even know where to begin."

"Don't talk Riley," Angel's voice sounded strained. "You're going to need your strength."

"No need to lie, Angel," Riley replied, chuckling again. "I don't have a lot of time left, so I better get started admitting my sins."

"Oh God, Riley," Eunice sobbed, her trembling hands brushing her brother's hair from his forehead, her eyes resting on him lovingly."Riley-" Angel tried.

"No," he interrupted the dark-haired man. "There's a lot I need to say. I killed Mike," he said without warning.

Angel's eyes widened, while Buffy let out a gasp, "Wha - What did you say?" she demanded.

"I killed him. I shot your brother."

"You..." Buffy stared at him, obviously not able to digest the revelation. "You killed Mike?" she whispered brokenly. "Oh my God."

"God, Buffy," Riley cried, hot tears falling down his cheeks, "I didn't do it deliberately. I never... It almost killed me when I read the report, when I read with my own eyes that only three bullets were missing from Angel's weapon. I thought the whole chamber had been empty. But then..." he shook his head, the pain and torture in his eyes almost taking her breath away. "I used Angel's weapon that evening. But I never... Then two years later I came across the report. And reading it I remembered. I must have suppressed it. I read it up. They call it suppressive amnesia. I was aiming for one of the bank robbers at the window and without warning Mike was suddenly right in my line of fire. I shot him. Then I accused Angel, married you. But I swear by God, I didn't know. I didn't remember."

"I believe you," Buffy whispered, her eyes searching Angel's again and she found the same sadness in them.

"After... After I knew what I'd done. I..." he shook his head again, another cough wracking through his body.

"Riley, why didn't you tell them," Angel wanted to know. "You didn't kill him. It was an accident." He looked down at the blond whose cheeks were wet with tears and in whose eyes was nothing but despair.

"Tell them?" Riley said almost incredulously. "She would've left me," he cried, turning his head back to Buffy. "You would've left me. I saw the way you reacted when you thought it was Angel. And you loved him. You never loved me."

"Riley-" she tried to protest, but he interrupted her.

"No need to lie, Buffy. I knew it. Right from the start. But I loved you. You were the love of my life and... I had the irrational thought I could make you love me back. But you can't people force to love you. Two years ago I couldn't face that. So I didn't tell you and you didn't leave me. But I... felt unworthy to be at your side... so I... did everything to make you hate me and it... worked," he chuckled again. An unhappy sound.

"Riley." Angel had no idea what to say. He knew nothing he could say would be what Riley needed. His former friend needed to forgive himself, and Angel wasn't sure if he was able to do that. Again images of Riley laughing with him, of Riley joking, them together playing football, flashed through his mind, and he felt a lump forming in his throat, "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Yeah, I know," shook his head, "I know you are, although you have no reason to be. You're a much better person than I ever was. I envied you... God, I was so jealous."

"Why?" Angel wanted to know. "You were my best friend. My best and most trusted friend. Why did you have a reason to be jealous?"

A smile that was somewhere between sadness and bitterness crossed the blonde’s features, "You're still oblivious, aren't you? You have no idea, Angel, how it feels to grow up in another man's shadow."

"But I never-"

Now Riley laughed, but it was not a happy sound, "I know that. You never saw it that way, but then you were the shadow I was growing up in. You might not believe it, not even now, but it was that way nevertheless."

"I never saw anything in you but my friend," the dark-haired man insisted.

"Yeah. A friend." Riley nodded almost to himself. "But you were always number one. Can you imagine how often my father said he wished I was like you? How disappointed he was in me? I was a loser."

"You never were-"

"But you see, that's exactly the point. I was a loser. In his eyes I was and what happened over the last four years proved it. And my father admired you. You were the quarterback of our high school team, then again in college. You got two scholarships for college. Your parents couldn't stop telling mine about their great son. And all I managed to be was your friend. Did I ever tell you that the first girl I slept with in college went to bed with me because she couldn't have you?"

"Oh Riley," Angel said helplessly.

"Yeah, what did I say? I'm the loser," he chuckled again, softly this time. The gunshot wound didn't hurt anymore and he remembered that fatal wounds never did. "She always loved you," he said, suddenly changing the subject. "I lost there too. I fell in love with the same woman and she never, not once, stopped loving you. And I knew it. That's when I really started hating you. You don't have to tell me how irrational that is, but... I couldn't stop it."

"I'm sorry," Angel said again. And he was. For the loss of a man who had once been his best friend. And for the man who was lying in his lap, and who had lost himself by wallowing in self-pity and nursing his jealousy.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too. For more than you can imagine." He was getting weaker by the second and he could almost feel his life slip away. "Nikki. I'm sorry," he whispered, "I can't keep my promise."

"Oh Riley," his sister cried softly, "I love you. Without you I wouldn't have been able to leave him."

"I love you too," he replied, then grabbed Angel's hand urgently, "I know I have no right to ask anything from you, but please take care of her. She needs... help. She told the... truth... Pedro is... dangerous."

"I know. I promise, Riley. I'll help her."

The blond smiled, released a breath of relief. "Good," he said, his eyes already clouded over, but nevertheless searching for Buffy. "I love you," he whispered. "I... always... sorry..." A shiver ran through his body, then suddenly his eyes became unfocussed, unseeing, and his form went slack in Angel's arms.*

"Angel, Spike," Cordelia shouted pushing past the police officers who were standing in the doorway. She released a breath she hadn't even noticed she'd been holding when she saw the two detectives standing and obviously unharmed, but a frown appeared on her face seeing them each holding a woman in their arms. It was not so surprising to see Angel holding Buffy, but she didn't know the other one.

Her eyes fell on the paramedics who were busy covering a body on the ground. "What happened?" she asked.

Slowly Angel raised his head, "Riley’s dead," he said and a sob came from the woman in Spike's arms. "This," he indicated the woman, "is Eunice Montez. She’s Riley's sister. And Pedro Montez' wife."

"Oh," was all Cordelia replied. Riley's sister was Pedro Montez' wife. Interesting. "Still, I need to know what happened."

"Riley tried to leave with his sister," Spike explained, knowing how hard it was for Angel or Buffy to talk about it. "Eunice here," he gave the woman in his arms a quick smile, "wants to leave her husband, but it seems he isn't taking it too well. So Riley tried to help her and in order to do that he blackmailed Simone Chambers. Angel tried to persuade him to talk to the FBI, but he wouldn't have it. He pulled his gun and wanted to leave with his sister. Of course we couldn't let him do that."

"And so you shot him?" Cordelia asked incredulously.

"No," Spike slowly shook his head. "And that's where the story gets really interesting. Riley opened the door and wham he went down. While Angel took care of him and Eunice, I tried to find the killer. But he was gone. Or maybe he used a long distance weapon. I have no idea. We’ll have to wait for the coroner's report, I guess."

"Are you telling me that someone shot Riley, while he was about to leave the house?" Cordelia needed to be absolutely sure she had heard right.

"Yes, that's what we’re telling you," Angel confirmed, holding Buffy close. She was completely shaken. First she had been consumed by fear it was Angel who was shot him and then Riley's revelations had done the rest. "Cordelia, I need to get Buffy home. Riley told us a lot before he died." He stroked

Buffy's back and kissed her skull, "He shot Mike."

The brunette gasped, "He, what?"

"It was an accident. But it ate him up. Can we talk about this later? Buffy needs some rest."

"Yes, yes, of course, take her home," she replied instantly and watched them leave, Angel carrying the blonde more than she was walking. Then she ran a hand through her hair, "God, this... this is..."

"Yeah, I know," Spike agreed, still holding Eunice.

"Pretty heavy. I contacted the FBI," he explained. "They’ll take care of her."

"Good," Cordelia nodded in agreement. "He really shot Mike?" she asked.

"Yeah," the blond nodded as well. "I thought Buffy would faint. She’s going to need a while to get over this."

The brunette wanted to answer, but two FBI agents entered the house and after a little conversation with Cordelia, Eunice and Spike they agreed that Riley's sister was in need of protective custody. As soon as they had left, the assistant DA put a hand on Spike's arm. "What do you think about a cup of coffee? I need one and you could tell everything what happened here. I have a feeling it's quite a lot."

Spike grinned for the first time, "I would never refuse the invitation of a pretty woman," he said and made her smile. "Come on, Miss Chase, let's talk."

****

"Buffy," Angel said softly after he had closed the door of her apartment behind them.

"Yeah," she replied, without looking up, without really paying attention.

"I want you to lie down."

"No," she shook her head, giving him a smile that almost broke his heart, "I can't lie down. Riley just died. I need to organize things." She nodded to herself, "Yes, I'm sure there are things to be done. I'm still his wife, you know, I need-"

"You need to lie down," he told her gently but firmly. When she didn't react, he took the matters in his own hands by scooping her up in his arms. Glad she didn't protest, he carried her into her bedroom and gently put her down there. "Stay here. I'm just going to get you a cup of tea. I'll be back in a minute. Okay?"

She nodded but didn't look at him. He was sure she was still in shock and he hurried to make some tea and a sandwich for her, although he was almost certain she wouldn't eat one bite. Returning to her room he found her in the same place he had left her, staring at the ceiling, her eyes dry and incredibly sad.

"Here," he said softly, sat down on the edge and held the tea towards her direction. Her eyes focused slowly on him and in autopilot she took the cup and drank a large gulp. He winced seeing her drinking the hot brew like that, but she didn't even seem to notice. "Easy," he said, taking the cup back. "Do you want anything to eat?"

She shook her head, but didn't lay back. Instead she was looking at him. "He killed Mike," she said, and each word seemed to hurt her throat. "He killed my brother and I let him touch me. I married him. I hurt you and sent you away and all the time it was him-" her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh Angel," she whispered.

Angel wanted to touch her. He was dying to take her into his arms and hold her, to try to soothe her, calm her down. But for the moment she'd set up this invisible boundary around herself and now she even crossed her arms, and he didn't want to trespas over the line. They had kissed just once, but in no way they had established what sort of relationship they were in.

She frowned, "I even enjoyed him touching me. For a while. It was fun. And he was touching me with those hands. The same hands that held the gun." Her voice was flat, and she began to shiver.

"Buffy, stop," Angel pleaded. "Don't do this to yourself. You had no was of knowing what was going on."

"No I couldn't," she admitted, and looked at him searchingly, eager to find the prove for the honesty in his words in his eyes. Sh reached for him then. She unwound her arms and reached out for him, giving him the permission to take her in his own arms.

The next moment he held her tightly and after only a second hers came around his neck. "He was messed up, Buffy," he was whispering too, trying to explain where there was no explanation. How did you explain when a person had lost himself? "He was eaten up by jealousy. But I'm sure he loved you. And when he found out it was him who killed Mike he couldn't bear it. I'm not trying to find an apology, because there is none. But I can understand what was happening to him. And I'm absolutely sure he loved you."

"I want to believe it," she cried into his neck. "I want to believe that he killed Mike by accident, and that he didn't remember when we married, but at the moment I feel so... so..."

"I know," he replied, "I know. Nobody expects you to forgive him. God knows I can't. Not now. Maybe never." He took a deep breath, "Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes," she said, tightening her hold on his neck. "I don't want to be alone. Stay with me."

"As long as you want me," he whispered and lay down beside her. With their hands entwined they fell asleep.

********

Monday, September 4th, 6.00 p.m. Los Angeles

It was quiet in Buffy's apartment, now that she and Angel were sitting on her sofa in the living room, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes closed. The week had gone by in a blur.

The FBI had taken Eunice Montez into protective custody and they would provide her with a new identity as soon as possible. In return Eunice would give all information she had, and regarding the fact that she'd been living more than 20 years with one of the most wanted drug dealers in South America, it was quite a lot. Actually the FBI could hardly believe their luck and were only too willing to help Eunice in any way possible.

The coroner had confirmed their suspicion that Riley had been shot with a wide-range weapon and so they had no idea who the killer could be. The whole department was investigating his murder but so far they had only pulled blanks. The news that Riley had shot Mike had spread rapidly and to spare Buffy the whisper behind her back and the curious looks, Giles had given her several days off.

Buffy was grateful for it. There was a lot to do regarding Riley's funeral, because although they'd been in the process of a divorce and were not living with each other anymore, legally she was still his wife and responsible for all the things that had to be done. Angel was by her side the whole time, helping her whenever she needed him, taking care of formalities, or just cooking dinner for her.

Riley's funeral had been a quiet affair. His brother, Connor, came with his family and with the help of the FBI they even arranged for Connor to meet his sister Eunice for a while. A lot of cops attended Riley's funeral. The fact that he was responsible for the death of Buffy's brother didn't present a problem. Nobody doubted the words of a dying man that it had been an accident and so the file of Mike Danicki was officially closed.

"It's the first time in a week that I have the feeling that I'm able to breathe." Buffy looked up and her eyes met Angel's,

"The whole week was so... unreal," she shook her head, "I don't know. I still can't believe he's dead. Just like that," she snapped her fingers.

"I know," he replied quietly, reaching out and taking her hand. "There's so much I can't quite grasp. He killed Mike. It's so... strange. I didn't suspect him. Not for a second. When Mike went down that night, I was sure it had been one of the bank robbers. Then when the report came, telling us it was my weapon..." he trailed off and shook his head.

He had still trouble understanding what had happened. All the things Riley had said to him before he had died. About his permanent jealousy. When had it started, Angel wondered. When had friendship changed into something ugly?

"Maybe I should feel sorry for him," Buffy mused, frowning slightly, "Maybe I should, but I can't. He did so many terrible things. And I am not talking about Mike. I can believe that was an accident. And I can even believe he suppressed what he knew, that happens, I've seen it more than once. But later. When he found out about Mike. He lied to me, Angel. He didn't even try to tell me."

He was quiet for a long time, and then suddenly said, "I wonder-" but broke off again.

"You wonder, what?" she probed.

"You remember the day when he gave you Mike's file," it wasn't really a question. Angel didn't doubt for a moment that Buffy remembered the day.

"Yeah, sure. Why?"

"I wonder if he wanted you to read it. Maybe he... maybe he wanted you to know," he shook his head and released a long breath and ran a hand through his hair, then over his face. "God, Riley was so screwed up. Maybe I'm just trying to find the good in him. I don't know. Maybe a part of me just refuses to see him for what he was."

"But that's just the point," she replied, reaching for the coffee cup on the table, "Who was he? I think I've asked myself that question a million times this week. And you know what? I still don't have the right answer. Maybe we'll never know."

Angel was about to say something when the doorbell rang. He wanted to get up, but Buffy shook her head and went herself. She smiled when she saw her visitor, "Connor, come in," she invited. "It's good to see you. We barely had a minute to talk."

"That's the reason I came. Lenore, the kids and I, we’re going to fly back to Washington tomorrow morning. And... well, I thought we should talk." He followed her to the living room and when he spotted Angel, he smiled as well, "Angel, so good to see you," he said and the two men hugged. "Although I wish..."

"I know," Angel replied with a nod. "I wish the same. Never in a million years I would've pictured our meeting like this."

"No," Connor agreed. "And there’s something I need to say first. Angel, I had no idea what was going on when Riley married Buffy. I'm sorry I nearly threw you out of the church that afternoon."

Angel chuckled slightly when Buffy gasped, "You did, what?"

Connor had to smile, "I... well, I saw him coming from your room that afternoon and... we had a fight. Not with fists, but I shouted at him and -"

"Connor," Angel interrupted him, "Forget it, will you. It's so long ago. It seems unreal today."

"Yes it does, doesn't it," Riley's brother said with a slight shake of his head. "He changed so much the last two years. I had no idea what happened," he laughed harshly, "Well, now we all know. He killed a man and couldn't live with it."

"He didn't actually kill him in the strictest sense," Buffy said placing a cup of coffee in front of Connor.

"I know that," he replied. "I just..." he shook his head again, "I’m just having a hard time digesting all this. I talked to your lieutenant this morning and he told me a lot of things. He said that Riley was blackmailing a woman. He even," his face contorted in disgust, "forced her to have... God, I can't say it. It's too disgusting."

"Don't," Buffy put a hand over Connor's. "Don't torture yourself by seeing only the bad things he did. I did that too and it's not good. Try to think about the times when he made a joke, when you laughed together."

"How can you be so... so forgiving?" Conner asked, in utter shock.

"I'm not. Riley did many terrible things. Some of them to me. But he’s dead. And it's of no use to dwell on it. And about the blackmailing. Yes, it was wrong, but at least he did it for Eunice. He tried to help her."

"She’s right," Angel said, giving Riley's brother a warm smile. "I had a lot of good times with him and I’d prefer to remember them."

"He called me," Connor said suddenly, "About a week ago he called me in my office. I hadn't heard from him in over a year. I tried to call him, but he never answered his phone, never returned my calls. And suddenly he did. He was stone drunk. I think he didn't even remember afterwards that he called me at all." Frowning he ran a finger over the handle of his cup. Not looking up he said, "He told me, he tried to rape you. And he cried."

"Connor-" Buffy tried to say, but he held up a hand.

"No, don't. I don't want to hear any excuses. And from the way you're looking at me, I know it’s true. What I want to know is, why he became what he was in the end? He was my brother, Buffy. I knew him better than anyone else, maybe even better than Angel, and all of a sudden I feel as if I didn't know him at all. And I find myself asking, how was this possible."

"We tried to find an answer just before you came," Angel said and shrugged, "We haven’t found one."

Connor laughed shortly, "Really comforting. I..." again he shook his head, "He loved you," he said, looking at Buffy. "The only thing I am absolutely certain of is that he loved you. I've never seen him happier than on the day you became his wife. The fact that he let you slip away from him shows me that he was really messed up."

He suddenly shook his upper body as if to get rid of all the grief and pain and straightened on the chair, then reached in his pocket and produced a sealed envelope. "This is for you both," he said handing it to Buffy and Angel. "It was in a box he sent to me the day before he died. I have no idea what's in it." All of a sudden he stood and the others did as well. "And anyways. I need to go. I promised my kids to read them a story tonight. And if I've learned anything from all this, then it’s to never take another person for granted. Tomorrow it could be too late already."

"Thanks for coming, Connor," Buffy said and hugged him. "You have a lovely wife and beautiful children. You’re a lucky man."

"Yeah," he nodded, "I suppose I am. Angel," he turned towards his brother’s long-time friend. "I know he envied you. But he loved you too. Don't believe that he wasn't your friend. Because he was."

"I know that, Connor. And I want to remember that."

The two men embraced for a short moment, then exchanged a long look that spoke more than any words. With a last nod, he opened and door and slipped from the apartment.

Buffy and Angel stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, then without a word they went back to the living-room and she took the envelope and ripped it open. The moment the contents were on the table, Angel looked at the blond, who stared at him through wide eyes.

"Are you thinking the same as I?" she asked.

"Yes," Angel confirmed. "I should call Cordelia immediately," he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "And while I'm at it," he said, "You should call Xander and Spike."

She nodded, the phone already in her hand, "And after that I'm calling the pizza delivery service." She smiled when she saw him raising a brow, "We'll get hungry soon. And as I see it there's a lot we have to talk about."

He smiled back, and then waited for Cordelia to answer her phone.

********

Tuesday, September 5th, 10.00 a.m., Los Angeles

"And what does Cordelia Chase think about these?" Giles asked and put the pictures he'd been holding on his desk. The expression on his face was a mixture of disbelief, worry and anger. If the situation hadn't been that serious it would've been almost funny to seem them all playing out on his face..

"Probably the same you do," Angel replied rubbing his eyes and exchanging a look with Spike who was sitting by his side. It had been a long night with Xander, Doyle and Cordelia in Buffy's apartment, sorting through the contents of the envelope and discovering things none of them had thought possible. "I'd say the evidence is pretty obvious."

Giles sighed, raked a hand through his hair. When he caught the eyes of the two detectives looking at him expectantly, he nodded, "Yes, yes, I agree," he said. "There’s not much to say. These pictures tell their own story. Still, I have trouble believing my own eyes."

"It's never easy to see evidence against a colleague," Spike remarked.

"I've worked with this person for a long time. I've trusted-" Giles stopped himself, shaking his head again in disbelief. When Spike and Angel had entered his office this morning he'd already known that it wouldn't be something pleasant they had to tell him. The expression on their faces had been grim, their movements agitated, but there had also been an underlying weariness. And Giles had instantly known what it meant. They'd identified the dirty cop. And they hadn't liked it one bit.

Angel couldn't sit any longer so he stood up from his chair and walked towards the window, staring into the outer office. Buffy looked up the very same moment and their eyes met. A long look passed between them. A look that spoke of love, friendship, understanding and the sharing of the same undeniable truth. Not taking his eyes from the blonde's face, he asked,

"What are we going to do now? I mean, yeah we do have the pictures and they tell us who the person is, but that's still not enough. We need more to make this case waterproof. Cordelia says she needs more to be absolutely certain, to convince a jury hundred percent."

"Damn," Giles swore under his breath but the others heard it nevertheless. "I hate this. But I agree it's not enough for a jury. A smart lawyer could turn it upside down. Well, you have to continue following the person, I guess."

"There's just a problem, Sir," Spike said slowly, for the first time using the word "sir".

Under normal circumstances Giles would've been tempted to grin, but as it was, his expression stayed grim and unmoving. "Yes?"

"With the Finn-incident a week ago, I think it's a safe bet that it's out there that we're working for Internal Affairs."

The lieutenant swore again, and then exhaled sharply, "Yeah," he said finally, "you're probably right." He slapped a flat hand on his desk, "God, dammit, that's a bloody mess." Raking his hand through his hair, he exhaled again, "Okay, let's deal with what we have. There are these," he pointed at the pictures scattered over his desk, "and we have the letter from Finn, where he tells us all he knows. Even that he was blackmailed, because his sister was his weak spot, and although he tried to be careful, he obviously wasn't careful enough. But he's dead now and not able to certify his written statement by testifying in person."

Not able to sit any longer, Giles stood as well and jammed his hands in his pockets, "So although we do have his written word, we can't use it. To top this our suspect probably knows that you're on his trail. What a mess. What a bloody mess."

"Buffy and Xander are going to tail him," Angel spoke after a moment of silence, then with a last glance at the blond in the outer office her turned towards Giles. "Our suspect doesn't know they're involved as well. They arrived later when Riley was shot, there's no way they'd connect them with the IA-investigation. It's pretty unlikely to use detectives from the department to spy on their colleagues. So I think, nobody will suspect them."

Slowly Giles nodded, "Alright. Buffy and Harris are going to take care of our suspect. But I want you to stay in contact with them."

"That goes without saying," Angel replied, hating the situation more by the second. Of course Buffy and Xander were trained and experienced cops. Of course they knew how to act in such a situation. But his gut turned into one gigantic knot at the thought of the woman he loved being exposed to danger. Not that she wasn't exposed to it every day, she was a cop after all. But this was different. They were going against a powerful enemy, and besides, this was his job. He was supposed to take care of the dirty cop, not Buffy. He was supposed to face the danger, not a woman who just went through an emotional roller coaster.

"We'll be connected to their car all times," Spike stood now as well. "We're their backup."

"Alright," Giles nodded, "let's do it."

Spike nodded back and slipped from the office. Angel was about to follow him when Giles' voice held him back. "Yes?" he asked.

"I heard you stayed with Buffy this past week," the lieutenant began.

Angel frowned slightly at that, "Yeah, and?"

"I suppose I don't have to tell you how vulnerable she is at the moment. The news about Riley and Mike, Riley's death... Be careful with her. Don't hurt her."

The dark-haired man's features softened into a slight smile, "I don't intent to," he said. "I love her." A looked passed between the two men, before Angel left the office as well.

"You think," Kate said, tipping her index finger speculatively against her chin while she stared over the desk at Buffy, who was sitting at the other end of the outer office, eyes fixed on Angel behind the window of Giles' room, "that there's something going on again between Buffy and Angel?"

"What?" Darla's head came up with a jerk. She stared at Kate for a moment, then turned and eyes narrowing let her gaze wander from the blond woman to the dark-haired man, who had been her lover what seemed like ages ago. Years of training made it possible that she could turn back and give her partner an indifferent shrug, "Who knows," she said, casting her eyes back on the report she was reading.

Kate tilted her head and let her inquiring eyes rest on the bent head of her blond partner. Darla gave the picture of indifference but they had been partners too long, for Kate to be fooled that easily. Besides, Kate wasn't a cop for nothing. "Don't even try to tell me that you're not interested," she said, waiting for her partner's reaction. When Darla's head came up again, she continued, "And don't try to tell me that you're over him. You were never, not for one moment, over Angel Reardon. He's in your blood, honey. He's been ever since you laid eyes on him."

"That's none of your damned business," Darla snarled, her voice barely above a whisper. Kate Lockley might be her partner, and she was a damned good one, but the two women had never been friends, and Kate certainly wasn't someone Darla would confess to.

Kate laughed slightly, knowing that she'd hit right on the money. "Whatever you say, Darla. Whatever you say," she grinned now, tipping her finger at her chin. Buffy was reading a file now and Angel was talking to Giles again, "But I would bet a year's salary that something's going on there."

*****

same day, 2.00 p.m.

"Listen to me," the voice growled at the other end of the line. "They know. They know everything. I need to get away from here." Floyd Brady, David Griffin's right hand, and if you believed rumors on the street, one of the most vicious people on this planet rolled his eyes, "Don't panic," he said, clearly annoyed. He hated weakness and fear and it was panic that came through the line. "They don't know a thing. If they did they'd arrested you by now. But you're still running around free."

"Is that meant to make me feel better?" the voice hissed now. "Because it doesn't."

"Stay put," Floyd replied and waved one of his hands in, signaling him to sit down. He took the sheets the other man handed him and only half-listening to what the detective was saying on the phone, scanned their content. At the end he nodded to the man opposite to him with a question in his eyes.

"It just came in," the man, who called himself Lyle, reported. "It's hot news."

"Agreed," Floyd, said, shifting his attention back to the phone. "Listen," he hissed, "Listen to me. Stay put. Don't do anything stupid. We'll take care of the rest. Behave normal. And don't call again. If you need to know anything, I'm going to contact you."

"But-"

"No buts, do you hear me? We're doing this my way now." Without waiting for a reply, he shut off the phone. "Idiot," he muttered, then sighed and scanned the papers in his hand again. Looking up he gazed at Lyle, "That's really interesting. So Finn has kept records, huh? Damn," he slapped his hand on the desk, which made Lyle jump in his chair. "Why didn't anyone check this before Zack took care of him?"

"W-well," Lyle stuttered, knowing how easily his boss' temper could blow up. "W-we didn't know about the brother."

"Obviously," Floyd replied bitingly. "Well, the damage is done. There's nothing we can do now. But, as I said before, if the proof was good enough, they would've already arrested our contact. But they haven't. And that tells us two things. The proof isn't enough *and* they're going to try to find more. They're going to try to make this waterproof."

He smiled, a very slow smile, Lyle had seen before, and it send shivers down his back, "Get me Zack on the phone, I think I need him for another job."

********

same day, 8.00 p.m., Los Angeles

Putting the fork down, Buffy sighed in contentment and gazed at Angel over her kitchen table with a smile, "That was delicious. Absolutely perfect. But you can't go on doing this."

He smiled back at her, "All I did was call the restaurant and they delivered," he replied, "Oh, yeah, and I set the table. Really hard work," he ended with a grin."

"It's very sweet. But it's not what I meant, and you know that, Angel," Buffy said, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her chin in the palm of one hand. "What I meant is, you can't keep spoiling me like this. Angel, you’ve more or less lived here ever since... Anyway. This has to stop, I'm a grown up person, and I can't go on using your friendship. I need to take my life in my own hands again."

His smile faded and he put down his own fork with great care, "Is that how you feel?" he asked slowly. "That we're friends?"

Buffy frowned for a moment, then a bit irritated, she replied, "Well, yeah."

A tight fist seemed to squeeze his heart and Angel felt as if he'd been punched in the gut, but managed to sound cool, "I see," he said, concentrating on breathing slowly, not to lose control. He didn't know why her answer surprised him so much. Sure, they had kissed once, outside the Splash, and yeah, she'd reacted, passionately even, but of course that didn't have to mean anything. What had been one of the most intense moments for him might have just been a spark of passion for her. He had been so sure, she had felt it too, but then, he barely knew her anymore. Four years had passed and although they had spent the last week more or less together, nothing in her behavior had hinted more than friendship.

She must have sensed the change in his mood because suddenly uncertain, she reached over the table and covered his large hand with her small one, "Or did I get that wrong?" she asked anxiously, "I really want you to be my friend and I want to be yours. That's important for me."

Slowly he raised his head and his eyes met her pleading ones. And if it might kill him, how could he say no to those eyes, "No, you didn't get that wrong. Of course I'm your friend." She let go of his hand and obviously relieved sank back into her chair.

"Good," she smiled. "Still, I think it's time for me to get my life back in order. And to start I need to sleep on my own again. It was wonderful of you to stay here. It made me feel safe and all, but you have your own apartment."

Okay, if she wanted it that way, friendship it was. He closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath and said with forced cheerfulness, "That's true, although I'm not so sure that Spike and Dru will be so pleased about my return."

Her eyes widened for a moment, before she said, "So this is serious, huh? Who would've thought? They are so... different, I guess. Spike is tough and forward while Dru’s so shy."

"Spike only seems forward. He's actually quite vulnerable, just covers it up very well," Angel told her, carefully holding on to his control.

"Really?" she asked, and then shrugged, "Well, he certainly does it well. I would've never guessed it. But Dru was hot for him the moment she saw him."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, "'He's so cute', she said."

They laughed for a moment, and then silence settled over the kitchen. Clearing his throat, Angel pushed his chair back and stood. "I'm just putting the dirty stuff away, then I'll be gone."

"Oh no," she stood as well. "I can't let you do that. You ordered the food, and set the table. The least I can do is clean up afterwards. Besides, I don't want to keep you, if you have better things to do," she said quickly, averting her eyes and reaching for the dirty plates.

The moment Angel saw her taking them with trembling fingers he understood. God, he really was an idiot. Why hadn't he seen it before? "Buffy," he said and when she didn't look at him, just continued collecting plates and silverware, he repeated, "Buffy. Look at me."

Slowly her head came up and he could see tears in her eyes. Reaching out he took the forks from her hands, "You don't want me to go, do you?" he asked, his eyes never letting go of hers.

"Wha-" her voice cracked and she had to clear her throat, "I don't?"

Slowly he shook his head and took her hand in his, pulling it to his mouth, while his eyes were still holding hers captured. With great care he planted a kiss on each of her fingers, then turned her hand and planted another on her palm.

He felt the shiver running through her arm and her body, heard her breath catch in her throat, "I already told you that the past is the past," he said quietly, "This is the future, Buffy. What are you afraid of? Is it really just friendship you want?"

"I-" her voice cracked a second time, and annoyed with herself she shook her head, then let out a little self-conscious laugh, "I hurt you very much and... And I know you said you don’t blame me... and... And I know you kissed me, but that doesn't have to mean anything... and-"

Her rambling ended in a gasp when he pulled her to him, "You're thinking too much," he growled and her eyes widened in surprise, "Why don't you try feeling for a change?" he asked, and covered her lips with his.

The instant his lips met hers, passion slammed through him like an unstoppable runaway train. Touching her face, deepening the kiss, wasn't enough, he realized with a mixture of joy and despair. God it would never be enough. He wanted her, all of her, wanted to devour her, wanted to strip her naked and kiss every part of her body, and then he-

Panting he pulled back, tempted to smile when he saw her closed lids, her parted lips, slightly swollen from his kiss, "Do you still want me to go?" he whispered against her mouth.

Her eyes opened slowly, and she looked at him from them, glazed over with passion that made his groin tighten, "No," she whispered back. "I don't want you to go." And with this she pulled his head back down.

Her lips parted, and her tongue flicked out, tracing his mouth, probing for entry. He groaned, and thrust one hand into her hair, pulling her even closer, her hot mouth tightly locked with his, he clamped his other arm around her hips, dragging her soft body against his groin.

His mind and body had been waiting for this so long it was like touching fire. He had the feeling that he wasn't able to move anymore, wasn't able to breathe. All he could do was feel and taste. Her silken lips against his, her breasts pressed to his chest, her hips undulating against his growing erection.

There was a split second when he might have been able to pull back, but then she moaned in his mouth, her arms tightening around his neck, and Angel was lost. His heart was in frenzy, his body was screaming for fulfillment, while light seemed to explode behind his eyes. This was Buffy, this was what he had dreamed of in the nights of four long, lonely years and now she was here, in his arms, and wanting him the same way he wanted her.

He made a low sound in his throat and lifted her in his arms. Without breaking the kiss he walked towards the living room, stripping him and her in the process. When they finally reached her couch, they were standing in front of each other in their underwear.

She opened her eyes for the second time tonight, when he broke the kiss for a moment, and looked around a little bit disoriented.

"Buffy?" he forced himself to ask. She nodded, and that was all the invitation he needed.

Their lips met again, and Angel instantly deepened the kiss with a deep, slow slide of his tongue, tasting her tenderly, thoroughly this time. Then his mouth left hers and began to explore, nipping at her neck, at her earlobe, his lips whispered over her face, her chin, down to her throat, along the line of her bra and he felt her arch her back to him.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, "so very beautiful."

She moaned again, pulling him closer, her hands traveling lower, tugging at his boxers, and he helped her get rid of them. With another move he'd removed her slip and her bra and then it was skin to skin, with no more barriers, no more layers between them. They were laying on the living room carpet, the moon shining through the window, bathing the two bare bodies into a silver light.

Angel continued kissing her body, his mouth traveling lower, his tongue darting in her belly-button, circling it, the action making her moan again.

"Angel," she hissed, almost mad with passion.

"Easy, baby, easy," he murmured again, breathing kisses against her inner thighs, then traveling up again, until he found her already dripping center. He heard her drawing a sharp breath when his tongue stroked slowly over her clit, and she buried her hands in his hair, her hips arching against his mouth.

"Oh God," he heard her moan. "Oh God, Angel. No, I want..."

"What?" he looked up, "What do you want, sweet?"

"I want you," she croaked.

"You've got me," he said with a smile in his voice, lowering his head again.

But her hands held him back. "No," she shook her head wildly, her eyes opening, she looked at him frantically, "I want you inside of me," she said, already spinning out of control, "I want to come with you inside of me."

Her words made his restraint snap. He moved upward, grasped her waist and rolled her on top of him.

Her eyes flew open, "Angel, what-"

Without words he curled upward to take her nipple into his mouth. She cried out at the pleasure. Angel made a rough sound in his throat and took her nipple between his teeth, rubbing them across, while he shifted her in his lap, his arousal teasing her dripping entrance. "Oh... God," she gasped, wiggling to get him inside of her.

He shifted her for a second time, pulling her legs on either side of his hips, clamped his hands on her waist, lifted her for a moment only to bring her down on his aching, rock hard erection. Buffy hissed again, feeling him fill her, feeling every inch of him entering her. Her eyes opened and widened, her breath caught. He smiled into her eyes and then brought her down the rest of the way.

The world exploded in a shower of stars and Buffy screamed, clutching his shoulders, holding him, and craving him. With a fluid motion he rolled them around, so that he was on top, still deeply imbedded in her and then he started to move.

"Open your eyes," he ordered, and she did, "I want you to look at me," he told her, his voice almost a growl. Buffy had the feeling she would either dissolve or die. It was too much. It was too good, too... Suddenly his big body tensed above hers, he began to shudder, a low moan coming from his mouth and with a final trust he cried out her name, "BUFFY!"

That was enough for her, the expression on his face, and the expression of love in his eyes, the way he cried out her name - it drove her over the edge. With a sob she followed him into oblivion.

It was some time later until Buffy found enough energy to open her eyes again. They were still intimately entwined, Angel still lying partly on top of her on the living room floor.

Feeling her move under him, he opened his eyes as well, "I'm sorry," he said, his voice sleepy, "I didn't mean to crush you."

"No," she tightened her arms, to hold him in place, not willing to let him go. "I like feeling your weight," she protested, but he nevertheless rolled them around so that she was now lying on top of him.

"I'm too heavy," he said with a smile, one hand coming up, tracing the line of her brow. "Especially with the carpet underneath us."

"That's what I was wondering," she replied resting her chin on his chest.

"Why didn't you take the bed?" <>"I'm not really interested in making love to you in a bed where you and..." he just trailed off, but Buffy had no problems understanding him.

"Riley and I never made love there."

"Oh, sure, you were married for four years-"

"Three and a half, we were only living together for three and a half," she insisted.

"Okay, so three and a half," he replied, annoyance rising in him. Did one time more or less matter? "But you can't tell me you never slept with him."

"I didn't say that. Of course I slept with him," she told him and when he raised a brow, she slapped his shoulder, "Don't look at me like that. I said we never made love. How could we?" her voice changed all of a sudden, "You can only make love when it means something to you, and I can only make love when I'm in love, so as far as I'm concerned I made love only with one man in my life."

His throat was suddenly dry as emotions were threading to choke him. With a muffled sound, he pulled her close and held her. He was a bit rough, but they both didn't care, "God, I love you," he said hoarsely, kissing the top of her head, his hands warm on her back.

"You... love me?" her eyes were suddenly moist and she was staring at him with disbelief.

"Of course I love you," he replied. "I never stopped loving you."

"Oh, Angel," now she couldn't stop the tears anymore. "I love you too. I love you so much. I never stopped either."

"There were days," he admitted, his voice hoarse, "when I thought I'd die. I missed you so much. I-" he shook his head, blinking tears away, the emotions too deep to put into words.

"It was the same for me," she assured him, pressing her mouth to his chest, inhaling his scent, loving the smooth feeling of his skin under her lips.

"And I thought you'd never forgive me for what I'd done," she admitted brokenly. "I love you," she cried, her mouth, wet with her tears and soon with his met his again. "Please love me, Angel. Love me."

"Always," he replied and they lost themselves in each other again.

********

Wednesday, September 6th, 7.00 a.m., Los Angeles

Buffy woke up slowly, and the first conscious thing she noticed was that they were still lying on the living room floor. She smiled to herself thinking about Angel's remark about her bed. No, *their* bed, she amended silently, sadly.

Angel was right. It had been hers and Riley’s bed. For three and a half years they had shared it. Although for the last one and a half she'd been more or less sleeping on the sofa, avoiding any physical contact with her husband whenever possible. She'd been too disgusted by his behavior, by the change in his attitude, to even like when he touched her hand. Looking back, she couldn't understand why she hadn't divorced him long ago.

She started when she suddenly felt a finger touching her forehead and opening her eyes, she saw Angel propped up on his elbow looking down on her, his fingers smoothing the frown away that had appeared on her forehead.

He smiled when her eyes made contact with his, lowered his head and kissed her gently. "Good Morning," he whispered, his lips only an inch apart from hers.

She smiled as well, "Morning."

His fingers stroked her forehead again, "Heavy thoughts?" he asked a bit concerned. After their frequent lovemaking last night he had hoped for her to wake up with a smile on her face, but instead he'd been greeted with a heavy frown.

Buffy sighed, pulled his hand down and kissed it, "Not really," she replied. "I was just wondering why I didn't file for divorce long ago. Why I stayed with Riley for so long."

He bent down and kissed her again, this time his lips lingered a while longer, his tongue tracing her lips, then nibbling them slightly with his teeth. "Don't," he said softly, "there's no reason to dwell in the past. You can't change it. We have to look forward, not backward, Buffy."

She sighed again, "I know. It's just so hard. So much has happened. I still have problems believing we're really here, together." She reached out and traced his brows, his nose, then his lips, "I love you so very much. And I'm so sorry. For the way I behaved, you know. When Mike died-"

"Shhh," he interrupted her, "I told you it doesn't matter anymore."

"I know. But I want to explain. I need to explain." Her eyes looked up in his pleadingly.

"Okay," he retorted, smiling gently. "Explain. I'm listening."

"I was so happy when I was with you. I think... no, I know, I‘d never been happier before. It was so wonderful, and sometimes... Sometimes I just couldn’t believe this was real. Do you remember when we went to the beach with Mike?" She saw him nod and went on, "That day was perfect. I was laying in your arms that night so afraid, that something would destroy our happiness." She paused when her eyes suddenly became moist, "Two days later Mike was killed."

"Oh, Buffy," he said and kissed her again. "Oh, Baby."

"It was terrible. I loved Mike. But as long as I had you I could deal," she continued, "But then the forensic report came and my world fell apart. *I* fell apart. And Riley came to pick me up. He was very gentle, very loving and he told me he loved me over and over again." She shook her head, "I still don't remember all the details. But by the time I started thinking straight again, I was already married for three months. Riley was nice and I made myself believe I could make it work.

"You left L.A. and I convinced myself that you hated me. Cordelia laughed when I told her. She said you couldn't hate me even if you wanted."

"Cordelia said that?" he asked, shocked.

"Yeah," she replied on a smile. "She never liked Riley. When I told her and Willow I was going to marry him, she looked at me like I’d suddenly grown horns. She refused to come to the wedding, and when I found out that Riley was cheating on me, she just raised one eyebrow and had that 'I-told-you-so' expression written allover her face. She said I should divorce him immediately. But I couldn't, oh Angel, I couldn't."

"I know," he said and pulled her close, "I know. And I understand. You don't have to explain that. Riley was my friend. For a very long time. And there were many good times. I liked him; at times I even loved him. Like a brother. It was easy to fall for his charm and sense of humor." He took her chin between thumb and index finger and tilted her head so that she had to look at him, "Buffy, I would never blame you. When I came to your wedding, it was my last attempt to... I thought I could make you see. When you sent me away, all my dreams shattered, I couldn't do anything but leave. I couldn't stand by and watch you married to my former best friend.

"And New York wasn't bad. Besides the fact that I missed you like crazy, I learned a lot there. Although L.A. is a big city too, it's completely different from New York. And I met Spike. He's a damned good cop and one of the best guys I ever met."

"I already realized that you were much more than partners. I think you aren't even that close to Doyle."

"I haven't seen Doyle for a very long time," Angel replied, "He and Cordy came to New York twice during the last four years. You don't want to, but you *do* lose contact. There isn't a lot to talk about if you don't have things to share. Spike and I worked together for nearly four years. Day after day. He saved my life and I probably saved his in return. It's what happens between partners. You know that."

She nodded, "Yeah. Xander says that there are things he can tell me that he can’t his wife."

"I wonder what he means," Angel muttered, but she had heard him and smacked his chest with her palm.

"Angel! Xander’s okay. It's just that Anya isn't a cop. She never was. She doesn't know the really ugly details of our job. And Xander, as so many other cops, tries to keep the ugliness away from her and the baby. And so when he can't deal with things he doesn't want to bring home he talks to me. We're working together eight ours a day, five days a week, sometimes even more."

"Yes," he agreed. "Anyway. Spike never let me down. I would trust him with my life. And I hope he feels the same. And we shared another thing. He came to New York, because he fell in love with a girl. Left London and his work and followed her. Cathleen was a model. She was very pretty, very successful in her job, and cold as ice. He asked her to marry him. Her reply was to ask him if he was insane. If he really thought she'd give up the opportunity to marry a rich guy for a cop. So there we were, our hearts broken, the job to keep us going. We understood each other."

Her voice was small, when she asked, "And you think it will heal?"

Not understanding he asked, "What? What do you mean?"

"You said your heart was broken, and-"

"Oh, Buffy," he pulled her close again. "That's just a saying. Yes, I was heartsick, and I missed you like crazy. But holding you now, being with you now, it's like the ultimate reward. It's so right." He kissed her quickly and swallowed a sudden tightness in his throat away. His voice was rough when he added, "You better realize that I don't plan to let you go - ever."

Her own eyes moist, she snuggled close, "Yeah? That's good, you know. Because I don't plan to let you go either."

For a moment he held her so tightly to him that she had problems breathing. But she didn't mind. The shudder that went through his body told her how deeply he felt her words. "God, I love you," he said after a moment, his words muffled as he buried his lips in her hair. "I love you so damn much."

"The same here," she sighed happily, reached up and pulled his head down.

"Could you kiss me again?" she asked breathily against his lips. "Just so I'm sure that's not a dream."

He smiled, "If it's a dream then we're dreaming together."

*****

Spike's waking wasn't of the same pleasant quality. Although it had started quite promising. He had been having the most wonderful dream. He was laying on the beach, the sun shining down on him and turning around he saw Drusilla beside him, clad only in a sorry excuse for a bikini.

He sighed in contentment and reached out his arm to stroke her creamy skin only to come in contact with... nothing. Which was odd, because he had a very clear memory of falling asleep with a woman in his arms.

In confusion his eyes flew open and he had to blink several times to notice that he was not on the beach, but in his bed, and to his surprise the spot beside him was really empty. "Dru?" he asked, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Dru, where are you?"

When he heard no reply, he rolled himself out of bed and stepping into his boxers stumbled towards the living room and stopped dead in his tracks. She was sitting in the loveseat that was turned towards the window staring outside. She wore nothing but his blue dress shirt, her bare legs and feet tucked underneath, her arms wrapped around her body as if she was cold. Her eyes far away, she appeared suddenly very vulnerable and fragile.

"Dru?" He said her name softly, trying not to startle her. But there was something settling in his stomach at the sight of her, some sense of foreboding he didn't like at all.

There was a flicker of her lids, but besides that he saw no reaction. Tentatively he stepped closer, not liking the way she seemed to be cut off from the world, "When did you get up, pet? Aren't you freezing?" He finally came to stand beside her and reached out to touch when her low hiss let his arm freeze in mid-air.

"Don't touch me." She didn't change her position, didn't loose her arms, just sat there and stared into nothingness.

"Baby, what-" he reached out again and this time she reacted, violently.

She slapped his hand away and jumped up, bringing as much distance as possible between her and him, "I said. Don't. Touch. Me." she hissed again, her eyes dark and cold with anger. "I thought this time, falling for a cop, I finally got it right," she said. "But it seems, I'm still the stupid idiot I've always been." Her voice was bitter, and she ended the sentence on a self-disgusted snort.

He looked at her in utter confusion, "What are you talking about? I don't understand." He made a step into her direction, but she held out a hand.

"Don't come near me," she warned. "And don't think I'm a fool either. I might be stupid when it comes to men, but I'm a cop and you better not forget that."

Slowly his confusion was replaced by anger, "What," he asked again, his eyes narrowing slightly, "are you talking about?"

"What I'm talking about?" She threw his words back at him as if they were the most ridiculous question to ask. Then she turned her head slightly and nodded towards the desk.

Spike turned as well, and when he saw what she was talking about he blanched. It was his and Angel's assignment for their work in L.A. Spike had no idea where Dru had found it, but it didn't change the facts that she now knew. "Oh God," he said, a tremor in his voice. "Oh God," he repeated, his eyes flying to her face, "Dru, Baby, please if you'd just listen-"

"No," she cut him off sharply, "I'm not going to listen. There is really nothing you could say to change the facts. You're working for Internal Affairs. Angel does too. Tell me, Spike, is it satisfying to have your work done in bed?"

"That's not-"

"No?" her brow rose mockingly, "You didn't just combine fun and the job? Who is meant to watch me?" she asked. When she saw him shake his head, she asked again, her voice rising, "Who is meant to watch me? Answer me!"

He swore viciously under his breath, "I am," he bit out. "But it's not what you think. I did not, I repeat, I did not think about the investigation when we..." he stopped, disgusted with himself, "I'm not explaining this very well, I-"

"Oh, you're expiation is alright for me. I understand, believe me, I understand only too well," her voice was bitter and he could hear the hurt underneath.

God, he would give everything to change what she had seen, but he couldn't. All he could do now was trying to explain and hope she'd understand. She had to understand, she was a cop after all, and she should know what it meant to be assigned to certain job. "No, you don't," he said firmly, taking one step towards her. "I got to watch you because Angel was too close. He erased you from the list of suspects right from the start."

A fond smile flickered over her features, before her eyes cooled down again. He saw that she wanted to say something, but he didn't let her, "You are a cop, damn it. Dru, you know how that works. I had a job to do and did it. But I fell for you so hard and fast that I lost my objectiveness too."

She looked at him speculatively for a moment, "When was the last day you watched me?" she demanded.

He swore again, averted his eyes, "Last Monday," he replied honestly.

Her voice was carefully controlled, "I see," she said slowly. "We were sleeping together the night before and the night after. Well, that explains it, I think."

With two steps he was standing right in front of her, "No, it doesn't," he shouted, planting his hands on both sides of her against the wall, "It doesn't explain a single thing. It's the job I have to do. You aren't on my list of suspects, but I can't change what I do. So I watched you. To bring them a report that says you're clean."

"Oh," this time she raised both brows, "I see. You're only doing this to exonerate me, right?"

"Exactly," he replied, relieved she seemed to understand. Her next word told him clearly that his relief had come too soon.

"Well, thanks. I didn't even realize I needed to be exonerated," she said sarcastically.

He slammed his palm against the wall, but she didn't do so much as blink, "Damn it Dru," he shouted, "It's my job. When I started it, I didn't know you. It changed quickly, but I can't let personal feelings come between what I have to do."

Her eyes cooled even more, and her voice was like ice, "Get away from me," she hissed, and seeing that she meant it, Spike backed off. "I’m not at all interested in your personal conflicts. I feel used, Spike. And nothing you say can change that."

She was already half way towards the bedroom when he whirled around, "Dru," he shouted desperately, "I didn't use you. I love you."

She stopped, turned slowly, an incredibly sad smile on her face, "Maybe you do," she said, "but at the moment, I really don't care." She closed the door behind her and left him standing in the middle of the room, swearing a vicious oath and violently raking his hand through his hair, wondering, what the hell he was going to do now.

********

Xander raised a brow when after his second ring, not Buffy but Angel opened the door to the blonde's apartment. It wasn't that he hadn't expected him to be there. He knew that Buffy's ex-lover had spent the last week in her apartment more or less, but Riley’d been dead for over a week now and because there hadn’t been any feelings between them anymore, Xander thought it was time for Buffy to go on with her life. Or rather for Angel to leave her to do exactly that.

Still, he wasn't surprised to meet Angel there, Xander told himself inwardly, it was more the way he stood there. As if he belonged. Well, he probably did, Xander thought with an inward sigh. He would have to be blind not to see what was happening between the two of them.

"Angel," he said and nodded at the other man, who stepped back and closed the door behind him.

"Xander," Angel replied and nodded as well. "You're the last. The others are here already," he said and lead the way towards the living room, where besides Buffy, he found also Cordelia, Doyle and Spike waiting for him.

"I see the whole squad is there already. Sorry for the delay," he said on a grin, "but Harris Junior was a bit cranky this morning."

The others, except Spike, smiled at that. Doyle winked at his fiancée who rolled her eyes in response. When Doyle had first started talking about kids, she'd felt nothing but panic. First of all she wasn't mother material. She didn't know a thing about small children. They were crying all the time, if they didn't burp, eat, poop, or sleep. And if she could believe the young parents she met, sleep wasn't usually high on the scale. Young parents all suffered from sleep deprivation, and Cordelia could only guess how much damage that did to your complexion. But she had also noticed that strange dreamy look in their eyes. And day after day she found herself more curious to know what it meant.

But there was also her career. She had worked really hard to become what she was today. Not quite 31 she was the assistant DA and for a woman it was a remarkable achievement. For a woman, she knew how that sounded, and she would never back down under any circumstances, but Cordelia Chase was also a realist, who knew that although women had the same rights as men, they still had to be better, work harder, and prove themselves all the time to be accepted in the same way. And now that she had achieved what she had worked for the last twelve years of her life, she didn't want to give it up for a baby. But she knew that Doyle wanted children, he was good with them, much better than she, and during the few quiet hours it worried her.

"The joys of parenthood," Buffy joked, coming back from the kitchen holding a tray loaded with coffee. "I suppose you can use this," she added.

"Did I ever tell you that I love you, Buffy Summers," Xander said dramatically, and grinned when Angel raised a brow at that. Oh yeah, Xander thought, the guy had it bad again. He sipped from his mug, "Now," he looked around, "I think I can get used to these meetings in Buffy's apartment. It's much nicer than the precinct."

"I should hope so," Buffy said dryly. "I'm not sure if I should feel flattered or insulted that you even consider comparing my nice apartment to something so old and horribly furnished."

Xander grinned, "Giles wouldn't like to hear that. For him it must have some morbid charm. The guy practically lives there."

"He has no wife to go home to," Angel commented with a serious face.

Everybody knew that the lieutenant had once been married and deeply in love with his wife, Jenny. Six years ago, she'd been killed, coming home early and surprising a man in their house. The guy had come for burglary, but had panicked when she'd discovered him.

"True," Xander said gravely, and in an attempt to lighten the mood, he added, "But then, the guy's English, they're strange people." He had expected to at least some reaction from Spike, but the blond was strangely quiet, didn't even so much as to look at Xander.

"Okay, then," Cordelia put her mug down and reached for her briefcase, "Let's discuss some things. I had a meeting with my boss and the guys from IA yesterday and there are several new developments you should be aware of. Plus, as Angel pointed out, it's pretty likely that our suspect knows about his and Spike's involvement, so they are more or less out," she shifted her attention towards Buffy and Xander, "That means you're the ones to take over now. Be careful so that you're not discovered. We can’t afford to install someone new. We're too close."

"That's something, I wanted to talk about," Angel said, sitting down beside Buffy. "We should be very careful," he went on, concerned eyes resting on Buffy. "As Cordelia said, we're close. And our guy might know what's going on."

"Meaning?" the brunette asked.

"Meaning that the bad guys behind our dirty friend might be royally pissed," Spike replied in his friend's place. "Meaning that if they killed Riley - assuming it was them, and after seeing all the evidence he collected, I'd say it's a pretty good guess. So if they killed Riley, a cop, they certainly won't shy away from killing another one."

Cordelia inhaled sharply, her startled gaze flying to her fiancée who just nodded, "God, that's making me so sick," she exclaimed, standing up and beginning to pace the room. "You’re my friends. All of you. And I don't want you exposed to that kind of danger. Riley was killed with a long-distance-weapon. That means we don't have a chance to protect you. Maybe-"

"We can't back down now," Buffy interrupted her, standing up as well; she took her friend's hand and stopped her pacing, "We’re cops, Cordy. We know what we risk, each day we go out there to do our job."

"She’s right, Cordelia," Angel looked at the assistant DA, then at the woman he loved, "And don't think I like it. Because I don't. In fact, I hate the mere idea of Buffy being hurt, but she loves her job. I love mine. It's part of what we are. Giving it up would mean giving up a part of ourselves. What I said, I didn't say it to make you feel bad. I just want everyone in this room be aware of the danger."

Cordelia looked at him for a long moment, considering his words, then she said finally, "Okay. We're going through with it. Besides, if I stop this now, my boss would eat me alive. But by God, be careful. I want all of you alive and well when this is over."

"Hey, that's part of the job description," Xander joked, feeling anything but. But he could see how much Cordelia was shaken. "Didn't you know? We're the super-cops. We're undestroyable."

Cordelia forced herself to laugh cheerfully, "Well, that's good to hear. Fine," she took a deep breath, "Now, let's go through the new evidence we've got. I think bit by bit we're closing in on our guy."

****

Buffy put the last mug into the dishwasher, then added some soap, when she caught Angel standing in the doorway, watching her. "Hey," she smiled, turning towards him, and barely suppressed a gasp at the intense expression in his eyes. "What's the matter?" she asked, walked over to him and slipped her arms around his waist.

He sighed, pulled her close and rested his head on hers, "Promise me to be careful," he said, his voice full of worry.

"I promise," she whispered, stroking his back. "You heard Xander. We're indestructible," she said in a lame attempt to lighten the mood.

"Don't," Angel growled warningly. He pulled back and when she looked up she saw the fury in his eyes. "Don't joke about it. This is serious. Cordelia told the truth. We're closing in on this guy. And the men behind the whole thing won't like it. And believe me, they won't hesitate a second to get rid of a cop who'd be a danger to them."

"I know that," she replied, reaching up and cupping his cheek in one of her hands, "Angel, I'm a cop. I know it's dangerous. I just don't want you to worry."

"I love you," he said gruffly, "People who love, worry. That's something we can’t change. I just got you back. I couldn't stand to lose you again, Buffy. I wouldn't know how to deal, I-" his voice cracked and he pulled her so close, that she didn't have enough air to breathe for a moment. But she also knew he needed it.

He loosened his grip slightly then bent down, finding her mouth for a desperate kiss, his hands digging into her hair. When the kiss ended, they were both breathless for a moment, "I need you," he said, planting kisses on her forehead, on her lids, on he nose, then finally finding her mouth again, this time kissing her gently, softly.

Then he sowed for a moment and pulled back completely, "I can't help worrying, Buffy. But that doesn't mean I don't trust your abilities. I hope you know that. You're a good cop. One of the best, I've ever met."

She smiled rising on tiptoe she kissed him slightly, "Thanks. That means a lot. And I promise to be careful. You'll see. This won't go on much longer. With the evidence Cordy gathered already, this'll be over in no time."

"Let's hope you're right," he replied, stroking the back of his hand over her cheek.

****

Simone Chambers' eyes widened when she opened the door of her apartment, "Mike," she said in a mixture of shock and delighted surprise, "What... I mean, come in," she invited with a shy smile.

She hadn't expected him to come so soon, hell, she hadn't expected him to come at all, if she was honest with herself. Not after he'd seen the pictures of her and Riley. She'd broken down that day and he held her. But after she blew her nose and seemed stable again, he told her that he needed some distance, and time to think about the whole situation. She had been devastated. Hating Riley Finn, hating the situation, hating herself, for her own weakness.

"Do you want some coffee?" she asked, looking at the clock. "How come you aren't on duty?" she wanted to know. "I'd expected you to be on a case."

"I am," he replied. "But I could make myself free for an hour. There are things we have to talk about, Simone. And yes, I would like a cup of coffee."

"Fine," she said, her stomach fluttering with nerves. He came to talk. Oh God, what could he want to talk about, she asked herself. "Why don't you sit down and I'll be with you in a moment."

He nodded and went for the living room, while she walked towards the kitchen, every step torture, because her knees were like rubber, not knowing what was about to happen. Glancing at the ring on her hand, she suppressed a hysterical sob. Had he come to tell her he would give it another try or would this be the end? He had looked so serious, his blue eyes suddenly grown up.

After she'd calmed down the last time they'd seen each other, he'd been angry. Not so much, he said, about the pictures. Although he'd certainly been furious about them. No, he had been angry because instead of coming to him, trusting him, she'd made the deal with Riley Finn. All that because her father was playing dirty games.

She'd argued that she loved her father and that he should try to understand her situation. He'd replied he had, and that he understood, but that it still didn't change the fact that her father was a criminal and that he was a cop. And that in the end she had to make a decision. He had left with the words that she should call him as soon as she had made it.

She hadn't called him so far. Torn between the love for her father and for Mike, she had been miserable. She knew that the things her father did were wrong, but he was still her father and her mother was frail after contracting serious pneumonia and Simone didn't know how she'd react if her husband was to be arrested. But she had wanted to call Mike. Day after day she'd glanced at the phone. She had even picked it up once or twice, severely tempted to call him.

And now he was here. Had come to her apartment. And she knew without doubt that she loved him more than anything.

With a shaky hand she poured coffee, spilling a great part on the counter, then added cream and sugar, the way Mike liked it. Taking a deep steadying breath, she turned and plastered a smile on her face when she entered the living room. "Here you go," she said and put the cup down in front of him. Not knowing what to do with her nervous hands, the linked them together, wringing them. "Now. What did you want to talk about?"

"Us," he replied, sipping from his coffee. "I want to see if there's still an 'us'."

"There is," she said quickly, urgently, "I strongly believe in that us."

He nodded, his gaze solemn, "That's good, because if this, 'us', can still have a future is totally up to you."

******

Angel held Buffy close and planted a last lingering kiss on her lips before he released her hesitantly. "Don't forget. Call me," he told her, his hand running over her hair, then for a second resting on her cheek.

She put her hand over his, "I will. I promise. You’ll see, this will all be over soon," she smiled, and then turned towards her car that was parked at the next corner.

Angel turned as well, making his way to his car that he had left at the opposite corner of the block. He didn't like the situation of Buffy in danger, but there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. They would have to get through with this, and hope that nobody was harmed.

He was about to turn back to catch a last view on Buffy and maybe wave her goodbye when there was suddenly a blinding light and explosion shattering through the street.

Angel whirled around and his world stopped. There was no doubt what had happened. There was fire and smoke coming from the other end of the street, from the exact spot where Buffy's car had been only seconds before. Even from this distance it was clear and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. Then in pure agony he shouted her name.

********

Angel stood at the third-floor window of the L.A. General Hospital, his forehead resting against the cool glass, his hands hidden in his pockets. Behind him the personnel of the hospital performed their duties, from several rooms he could hear beeps and the smell of antiseptic was in the air.

Outside the window the sun was shining brightly on this Californian afternoon, while the streets were busy, people walking around as they did every day, mothers laughing to her children, none of them wearing the shocked expression of the people who had witnessed the explosion of Buffy's car, while Angel had been kneeling on the ground, his lover's bruised, bloody, and unconscious body in his arms, calling the ambulance at the same time.

The rescue team who'd arrived on the scene had taken them straight to the hospital, where ER doctors fought to counter the effects of the deadly explosion. That had been two hours ago. Buffy had been wheeled into surgery and he hadn't heard a word since then.

"Do you want some coffee?"

Angel slightly turned his head and looked at Faith who was standing beside him, a worried expression on her face. She and Drusilla were the detectives called to the scene and after doing their work they followed him and Buffy to the hospital. "No, thanks," he replied, his voice hoarse.

"Can we do anything else?" Dru came to stand beside her partner, her face wearing the same expression.

"No," Angel shook his head. "I don't want anything."

Faith nodded, then began to chew her lower lip as if considering something. Finally, after exchanging a glance with Dru, she said, "The bomb was remote-controlled."

He turned his head again, "What?" he asked, as if he hadn't understood. And he hadn't. He wasn't able to pay real attention, his mind wandering again and again to the swing doors that marked the entrance to surgery.

"The bomb," Faith repeated gently, touching his arm slightly with her hand, "It was remote controlled. From what we got from the people who were around, it seems that Buffy turned at the last moment to help a child who had fallen with his bike. That saved her life."

"You don't know that," he said harshly, looking out of the window again.

"Yes, we do, I talked to the mother-"

"That it saved her life," he interrupted angrily. "She was alive - barely. But the doctor said it's a close call."

Faith blanched and pulled her hand away, while Dru stepped closer, "Angel, Faith didn't mean-"

He stopped her with an impatient gesture of his hand, "I know," he said and shook his head, "I'm sorry. I'm..." he trailed off, sighing and shaking his head again.

"We know," Drusilla said softly. "But she's strong, Angel. She'll make it." He managed to give her a grateful smile, but didn't comment it. He couldn't talk about it. Hell, he could barely bring himself to think about the fact that the woman he loved more than anything was laying on an operation desk, fighting for her life. He had never felt so helpless as he felt right now. Buffy was hurt, maybe dying, and there was nothing he could do.

They all looked up when they heard people running towards them and then Cordelia, Xander and Spike appeared at the end of the hallway. And they were running. Panting they came to a stop in front of them. Reaching for Angel's arm, Cordelia tried to catch her breath, "Angel, oh God. How is she?"

"Still in surgery," he replied. "We don't know anything so far. It's a miracle that she's still alive."

Cordelia blinked sudden tears away, trying to keep herself together. She could see that Angel was on the edge and she couldn't fall apart now. "What happened?" she wanted to know and listened intently, as did Spike and Xander, when Faith told them what they had found out.

Angel tuned their voices out. He couldn't listen. He knew what had happened, and he didn't need to hear it again. Someone had placed a bomb under Buffy's car and it had exploded when she'd come near. Only the fact that she had a soft heart and had tried to help a child had saved her life. For now. He took a deep breath, holding a tight rein on his emotions. He wouldn't help her if he let go now. She would need him, later, when the doctors were through with her. And if... he closed his eyes tightly... No, he couldn't imagine the worst. She had to make it through it. She just had to.

He started when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, "You holding up?"

"Yeah," Angel replied glancing over his shoulder at Spike, then straightened and turned fully around. "I'm not going to fall apart. There's too much to do. She’s going to need me and then there's the person who did this."

Spike nodded, squeezing his friend's shoulder, "That's the spirit. And we‘ll get them. The cop, and the men behind all this. The lieutenant will be here in a coule minutes. He was out of town this morning and needs to drive back."

The dark-haired man nodded, then looked at the swing-doors again. "I love her, Spike," he said, "I can't lose her."

"You won't. She loves you too, man. And she‘s a fighter. I'm sure she doesn't want to leave you."

Angel released a pent up breath, "God, I hope you're right. I don't know what to do if..." he trailed off, not able to voice his worst nightmare.

Two hours later they were still standing in the hallway in front of the swinging doors waiting for news of Buffy. A nurse had come out, but besides a compassionate smile she hadn't been able to give them anything. Giles had tried to give them hope by saying that it was a good sign if it lasted long. The lost cases were given up easily. But somehow it didn't help.

Angel was standing with his back at the wall now, his head leaned back too, his eyes closed. They had tried to talk to him, but after a while they caught on that all he wanted was to be left alone.

Willow and Xander had joined the crowd some time ago and were waiting with the others now, the redhead pale and sniffling quietly, her head resting on her childhood friend's shoulder, her thoughts with her wounded girlfriend in the operating room.

Combing her hair away from her face, Cordelia sighed and looked around just in time to see Spike glancing at Drusilla then quickly turning his head away when he saw her looking at him too. The brunette lifted a curious eyebrow and walked over to the blond detective.

"Do I see clouds in the sunny sky?" she asked, glad for any distraction from the heavy thoughts in her mind. When Spike turned to look at her with a question in his eyes, she said, "I got the impression that you and Dru were an item now. So I'm just wondering if there's already trouble in paradise."

Spike glanced quickly into Dru's direction and then narrowed his eyes at Cordelia. "Hey, don't eat me alive," she said, "I just couldn't help noticing the... uh... hostile atmosphere."

"She found out why I really came to L.A.," he said curtly.

"I see," she said after a moment. "Well, I can understand why she's angry."

His head jerked around, "You, what? You were the one who started the whole mess, and now you understand *her*?"

"Whoa," Cordelia held up a hand. "You agreed to work for IA. And just for the record. I didn't start this mess. Our suspect did." She paused for a moment, eyed him carefully. "You love her, huh?"

"Yeah, damn right, I love her," he ground out between gritted teeth. "Not that it concerns you."

"Does she love you too?"

"Hell, if I knew," he replied, closing his eyes. "She never said a word about her feelings. If I just..." He opened his eyes with a snap, "Well, it's no use now. She hates me. She thinks I used her. That I used the opportunity for a close observation with a little bit of good old sex thrown in."

"But you didn't. And maybe you should try making her see that," she proposed, "You made a mistake and you know that. The moment you realized your feelings for her, the moment you became involved with her you should have told me."

Spike let out a harsh breath, and ran a hand through his hair, "Damn, I know that. I just thought..." he shook his head, disgusted with himself, "I was a bloody damned fool. And I have no idea how to make her see that."

"You will." Cordelia put a hand on his shoulder, "If she cares about you, she‘ll listen."

He looked at her doubtfully, "And if not?"

"Well," the brunette said, compassion in her eyes, "Then you've got all the answers you need."

Spike gazed at her for a long moment, and then nodded slowly, "Yeah. You're right. The question is, if I can live with it."* Everybody looked up when the swinging doors finally opened, and a doctor came out, his clothes drenched in sweat, he was removing his hat, and running a hand over his wet skull. "Mr. Reardon?" he looked around and then nodded when Angel stepped forward.

"Yes," he said, his voice barely working.

"She’s alive," the doctor started, getting relieved sounds from all sides. "It was close," he went on. "Her spleen was ruptured and we had to remove it. Her liver was ruptured as well, but we managed to sew it up. There was some damage to her intestines, but that was only a minor complication. Our biggest problem was her blood loss, but after hours of hard work," he smiled wryly, "and the help of modern technique, her constitution is steady at the moment." Looking directly at Angel, he added, "If there aren’t any more complications, I'm quite optimistic. As I said, it was a close call, but she's a fighter, she never gave up." He nodded again and was about to leave, when Angel held him back.

"Can I see her?" he asked.

"She‘ll be moved to the ICU now and she needs rest," he smiled again, "but you can see her for five minutes. I’ll inform the nurse. She'll get you later and take you there."

"Thanks," Angel said, and there was a world of meaning in this one word.

The doctor understood. It hadn't been the first operation of this kind for him. He knew what relatives and friends went through in such situations and he knew that they could hardly find words afterwards. "It's my job," he said simply and left.

*****

"She's alive," the voice on the other end of the line hissed angrily. "The bitch is alive."

Floyd Brady almost dropped the expensive Cuban cigar he'd been lighting only seconds before. Swearing viciously, he looked at Lyle over the desk, "What do you mean she’s alive?" he asked.

"I thought it was easy to understand. She survived the attack. Your man made a mess of this."

"He doesn't make mistakes," Floyd replied, putting his cigar down, reaching for a pen instead. "He never did before."

"Well, he did this time. Summers survived. The doctor said she's going to be fine. The news is allover the precinct. The lieutenant just announced it with a big grin on his face."

Floyd swore again, while he was busy scribbling something on a piece of paper, then handed it over to Lyle, whose eyes widened when he saw what his boss had written. "It doesn't really matter if she survived or not," Floyd told the cop at the other end of the line, "It was meant to be a warning and I think they understood it nevertheless."

"Just don't do such a sloppy job again.""Don't threaten me," Floyd warned.

"I'm the one on the front line. Tell Griffin, I'm going to expect a raise for... let's call it growing danger. It's my head they'll be cutting off if they ever find out."

"They won't," Floyd replied, slamming the receiver down. "Idiot," he hissed, and then remembered that Lyle was still sitting opposite to him. "Why are you still sitting here? You've got an order."

"But boss-"

Floyd raised a brow, as if to tell the other man that he wasn't used to have his decisions questioned and Lyle shut up immediately, "Get this on the way. Zack will know what to do and tell him... if he fails me again, it'll be the last time."

*****

same day, 10.00 p.m.

Buffy opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the bright light that came from the ceiling, irritated by the beeping noises around her. Where was she? It looked and smelled a lot like a hospital, but why would she be at a hospital, she wondered. She remembered starting the day in Angel's arms, making love to him, then they Cordelia and the others had arrived and then - nothing. She couldn't remember a single thing. How very odd.

She tried to move, and a sharp pain shot through her whole body, making her groan. God, what had happened to her?

"Buffy?"

"Angel?" she said and was glad she was able to turn her head without pain. She stifled a gasp when she saw him sitting beside her, his eyes tired and red-rimmed, a stubble allover his chin, while deep worry lines had etched into his handsome face. "What... what happened?"

"Don't you remember?" he asked, worried.

She shook her head and groaned at the new pain. Mental note, no fast movements, she thought. "No. I... it's so muddled." There was a note of panic in her voice. What had happened? Had she lost her memory? Why didn't she remember?

"Shhh," he said and pulled her hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "Your car blew up." He saw her eyes widen, "Yeah. I thought you..." his voice broke and he had to start again as he fought the horrible images that were still in his minds. Images of Buffy's car bursting into flames, the smoke, and then finding her bruised body on the pavement, refused to leave alone. "I thought you were dead," he managed finally. "I thought I'd lost you." He buried his face in her hand for a moment, savoring the warmth of it, then he kissed the pulse at her wrist, the sign that she had managed to pull through.

She wetted her dry lips, "Wha- what happened to me?"

"You were in surgery for over four hours," he told her, holding her hand in his, needing the contact, the assurance that she was truly alive, that he wasn't dreaming. "They had to remove your spleen. But the doctor assured us that you could live without it. Your liver and gut was damaged too, but the doc put you back together. He said you were great in there, a real pro." He wasn't able to keep his tears at bay anymore and they ran freely over his cheeks now.

With all the emotions she felt in her eyes she looked at him, reached up with her hand and touched his lips with her thumb, "I love you," she whispered.

He kissed her thumb, "I love you too. I love you so much."

"I know," she smiled now, and then yawned.

"Sleep," he whispered. "I'm staying. I'm your personal bodyguard and have to stay anyway."

Her smile widened, "Good," she said, already half asleep. "Love you."

He kissed her hand again, wiped his tears away. "I love you too, baby," he whispered, "I love you too."

********

Friday, September 8th, 10.00 a.m., Los Angeles

"I want this over."

"I understand," Giles said gently, looking at Angel's back. The dark-haired detective stood in the middle of the Interrogation room at Internal Affairs, staring at the one-way mirror, while Cordelia, Spike, and Xander were sitting at the desk with the lieutenant. Tim Philips, the District Attorney, and Brent Harley, the boss of I.A, had joined the little group.

It was the first meeting they held since Buffy had been so seriously injured by the bomb that had been planted underneath her car on Wednesday. Fortunately she was making unexpected progress and had been moved from ICU to a regular room the night before. She would, of course, need more time to heal properly and it would be at least a week before the doctors would even consider releasing her. But Angel was finally able to function again with the encouraging development.

Giles could understand better than anyone how it felt to see the woman you loved so close to death. He remembered being in with the ambulance with Jenny on the way to the hospital and he could also remember seeing her die in that car, only five minutes before they reached the Emergency Unit. He had loved her with all his heart and in a matter of minutes she'd been taken away from him.

He had been like a ghost afterwards, only his work keeping him upright and able to go on. The years that followed had been long and empty and filled with grief. But it had been years now and lately he found himself more and more tired of coming back into his empty house night after night. There were no arms waiting for him, nobody was meeting him there, talking to him, giving him warmth and love.

"I do too."

Giles forced his thoughts back to the more pressing matters, when Cordelia's voice sounded through the room.

"But although I want the person responsible for Buffy's accident-"

"Someone blew up her car," Angel interrupted, his voice low and angry, his eyes blazing at her, "I'd hardly call that an accident."

Knowing Cordelia's temperament, Giles had expected for her to give Angel some snotty reply, but the assistant DA obviously had realized how tightly strung the dark-haired man's nerves were at the moment. Better not ignite an already smoldering live wire.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, looking apologetically at Angel. "I agree. The expression was a bit... uh... off. Anyways. I want the person as badly as... almost... everyone else in this room." She glanced at Angel again and he took a deep breath and returned the apology with his eyes.

Giles was sure that the dark-haired detective wasn't feeling apologetic at the moment. Angel wanted to go out and beat the crap out of the person who'd set the bomb under Buffy's car and out of the person who'd given the order to do it. And more than anything he wanted the dirty cop who'd been going against his fellow officers, people who'd saved that person's ass more than once.

Well, tough luck, Giles thought. Angel’s going have to wait in line for that special punch, because Giles felt a certain itch in his right fist too. Of course he was a police officer and that would prevent him from making good on his silent threat. But he sure as hell would be part of the interrogation team. He wanted to look that person in the eye and hear with his own ears what had happened to turn a good, reliable cop into scum.

"What Miss Chase wants to say," Tim Philips said, "is that we're going to get those guys. All of them. But we need to do it right. The legal way. Nothing else. I know how you feel-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Sir," Xander spoke for the first time, "but you hardly understand how we feel. One of our own colleagues is part of an operation that almost cost the life of another colleague. A friend. Buffy Summers. No Sir. You have no idea how we feel."

"I accept that," Tim Philips replied on a nod. "Maybe I don't really understand. But that doesn't change a thing. I'm just warning you. Don't pull some private Vendetta here. I know your girlfriend, your friend or colleague was hurt. Seriously hurt, but-"

"Make that life-threatening," Spike threw in, hating the fact that he had to listen to this. He glanced at Angel whose hands were clenched into fists, and who, so the blond could see, was fighting not to lose his control. Spike knew how he felt. Well, not exactly, of course, but he hadn't seen Drusilla in 48 long hours. He had tried to call her, wanting to talk, wanting to explain. So far she had blocked every attempt.

Damn. He loved her. Couldn't she see that? Why on earth couldn't she see that he was missing her so badly he'd hardly slept the last two days? God, he was going to go crazy sooner or later. But maybe she wanted that. Maybe she wanted him to do something stupid, like grovel in front of her door.

The worst, however, was that he would grovel. He wouldn't hesitate for a second if he'd see a chance to change her hostile attitude. But at the moment, he saw none.

Zilch. Zero.She didn't so much as look at him. He wanted to scream. But of course he knew that it wouldn't help either.

"Yes. Life-threatening," Tim agreed with a nod, his eyes sharp, holding a silent warning. "To make this totally clear here, detectives. I want those assholes. But I want a case that cannot be twisted around by some smart, very expensive lawyer, who spends his holidays in Aspen by defending slime. There will be no Lone Ranger playing. You will do this by the law. Each step. Is that understood?"

He looked around and when nobody said a word, he nodded again. He turned his head and gazed at Brent Harley, "What about Judge Fowler. Did he sign the papers?"

"Yes," Brent smiled, but it was so cold, it could have turned the Sahara into ice. "He signed them. He didn't want at first, but I reminded him of something," he shrugged, "Well, I knew something. We’ll leave it at that. We can start this thing, the moment you give your okay."

"See it as given," Tim replied, and this time his eyes fell on Angel, "Detective Reardon, I need to be sure that you're able to do this. You have to be absolutely sure that you won't snap."

"I'm not going to blow this case," the dark-haired man retorted. "I've got this covered. The person was close to everyone of us, not just to me."

"Yeah," Xander agreed, and then amended his statement by adding, "but she was a lot closer to you. A hell of lot closer. At least for a while. So you should know her better than we do. Are you sure it will work?"

"Yes," Angel's voice was firm, "It will. I have to make the final phone-call and afterwards, the show is on."

****

"I'm scared." Simone Chambers turned to look at her fiancée, her eyes huge and frightened, her lips trembling, while her hands were wringing the hem of her shirt.

"I know," he replied gently, crossing the room and taking her in his arms. "I am too. More for your than my sake. But I also know that if we want any kind of future together, this has to be done." He reached up and traced the line of her delicate cheek with his forefinger, "I don't want you to go to jail, baby. I want to live with you, preferably for the rest of my natural life," he smiled, "I also want a baby with you, or maybe even more than one. But that can only work if we're clean here."

Although his words sent a warm shock through her whole system that was the temperature of ice at the moment, she shivered in his arms, "I want all those things too," she admitted, her voice quivering. "I love you so much. But my father-"

"Has done all these things by himself. Your father is a smart man, Simone. He did what he did with open eyes, and aware of the consequences. I know you love him, and I can only try to understand what this will cost you, but he can’t expect you to close your eyes all the time."

Suddenly his smile vanished and the look in his eyes was hard, "And he certainly can't expect you to sell yourself for him."

"Mike-"

"No," he shook his head, covered her lips with his for a moment, soothing her with the kiss, soothing him by the connection. She was here in his arms and he would keep her safe. "I told you, I don't blame you. At least not anymore. But I do blame your father. I know, he knows nothing of what you did for his sake, but without his doing these things you wouldn't have been forced to do it in the first place."

"Sometimes, when I sleep," she whispered, pressing her cheek against his chest, "I can feel his hands on me. His laughter in my ears. And I want to die in shame."

"God, baby." Mike's voice was hoarse. It was a pity that a sniper had shot Riley Finn. He would've gladly gone and ripped the asshole's heart out. He knew that Riley had been blackmailed himself and that he'd done what he'd done only to save his sister's life, but that didn't change the fury Mike felt each time he thought that his colleague had forced himself on Simone.

"I'm so glad you don't hate me for it," she said, her voice quivering again, "I couldn't live thinking you hated me."

"I love you," he told her firmly. "And we're going to get through this. And then we're going to have the future we're dreaming of. You have to believe me."

"I do," she whispered, holding him close, pressing herself even closer. And she did. She believed him. But she also knew that believing wasn't always enough.

When the phone finally rang, they pulled away from each other and looked into each other's eyes.The show would begin.

****

Darla Massey narrowed her eyes and glanced at her sister through the mirror, "I cannot believe you're so stupid." She shook her head, "After all the things I had to do to clear up this mess for you."

Diana studied her long red fingernails and snorted, "What *you* had to do? Gee, should I sink down on my knees and thank you for it now?"

"No," Darla replied, still stunned that a person who looked so much alike she, could be so completely different. The sisters or rather twins, had never been close. Only recently it had changed. But not because they wanted it to. "I don't expect you to thank me. But when this is over, I don't want to be bothered with your life ever again."

"My life?" Diane raised a haughty brow, "At least I have something resembling a life. You on the other hand, dear sis, have spent your best years lusting after a guy who never really wanted you in the first place."

At the mention of Angel Darla whirled around, her eyes blazing with fury, "Don't you dare to bring him up. Angel is absolutely none of your business. I'm only here because *you* needed my help. It's also the most stupid thing I've ever done in my life. I betrayed the department, I lied to my boss and my colleagues and I did other things I'm not very proud of. Only to save your sorry ass." She laughed slightly, but it wasn't a happy sound, "No, please don't thank me. Just stay out of trouble in the future. That's thanks enough."

"How was I to know that David Griffin was a drug dealer?" Diane asked. "He was so nice to me. A real gentleman."

"Some gentleman," Darla snorted, then sighed in defeat. Her sister would never change. If she never saw her again, it was still too soon. Not that she didn't love her sister, because she did. She had always loved Diane. Why else would she do the things she'd done over the past months? But Darla was sure she would love her sister even more from a safe distance. A phone call once or twice a year would be enough. She was contemplating how to tell her sister exactly that, when suddenly her cell phone rang.

********

same day, 2.00 p.m., Los Angeles

"Hey, how're you doing?"

Buffy smiled and slightly lifted her head from the pillow to see Willow entering her hospital room. "Hey, Will," she greeted her best friend.

"You look much better today."

The blond rolled her eyes, "Gee, that's flattering. Knowing that I looked like death just yesterday, I'm not sure I should see that as a compliment."

"You never looked like death," the redhead replied firmly, pulling up a chair to the bed and sitting down. "You almost died, Buffy. You had us really scared there. Especially Angel," she said with a look that spoke volumes. "Speaking about him. Where is he? I thought I'd see him still glued to your bed?"

"He came early in the morning, after the first night he didn't spend at the hospital" Buffy told her, her mind wandering to the man she loved and to the danger he was in at the moment. He had told her that they would have a meeting at IA and later he had called her, to inform her that the show was on. Suddenly realizing that Willow was looking at her expectantly, she tried not to think what could happen right this moment, while she was lying in a hospital bed, forced into doing nothing.

"Something urgent came up," she explained her friend, hating that she couldn't tell her the truth. True, she wasn't actually lying to Willow, something urgent had come up, but holding things back from her best friend was harder than she'd expected. But Tim Philips had made it perfectly clear that nothing was going to be revealed as long as they hadn't tied up the case.

"More urgent than you, huh?" Willow asked, smiling. "I suppose the world's coming to an end then," she joked, "because I just can’t see anything else that could remove him from your side." She reached out and took her friend's hand. "See, I told you from the start. I knew you would get back together."

Glad that the redhead had changed the subject, Buffy smiled back, "I thought he hated me. But he doesn't. He said he didn't blame me anymore. God, Will, I love him so much."

"I know," Willow squeezed the hand she was still holding. "Oz sends his love by the way," she said then.

"How is the expectant father doing?" the blond wanted to know.

"He's in a permanent state of panic most of the time," the redhead answered, patting her still flat abdomen. "Who would've thought that a taciturn guy like Oz could be like that?" She shook her head and chuckled.

Buffy looked at her friend, happy for Willow's happiness, for the joy she saw in redhead's eyes over their baby and she found herself hoping for the same some day. She sent another silent prayer to every god that was listening, that they would keep Angel and all her friends safe. She glanced at Willow again. Willow, her trusted friend for more than 15 years, Willow, who had never betrayed her, and never lied to her, and always, stood by her.

Screw orders, she needed to talk about it. Now. Or she'd go mad, "Will," Buffy began, squeezing her friend's hand, "I have to tell you something. Something you're probably not going to believe at first..."

*****

"The subject is entering the warehouse from the back."

Spike's voice came clearly through the ether, and Angel shot a glance at Xander who was sitting beside him. Behind the two detectives, Cordelia Chase was biting her nails. Under normal circumstances it would’ve made Angel chuckle. Her nails were holy to the brunette. The fact that she didn't care at all about them at the moment spoke louder than thousand words.

"Is the identification hundred percent positive?" Angel could hear Tim Philip's voice speaking through the same radio. The DA was sitting in a car together with Rupert Giles and Drusilla, who'd been taken into the team at Spike's mention that she already knew what was going on. He hadn't elaborated that statement, but Angel had a certain idea why his friend had been so cranky recently.

To tell the truth, he hadn't even noticed it at first. He'd been too concerned about Buffy, to notice anything by her. But Cordelia had pointed it out this morning and as Angel had seen Spike after his breakup with his former girlfriend, he had a pretty good guess that only Drusilla could be the source of his foul mood. He had no idea what exactly had happened, but made a mental note to talk to the blond detective as soon as this was over.

"Yes," Spike replied. "Positive. And now subject number two is arriving as well," he went on, "Bingo," he shouted, and Angel could hear the exhilaration in the other man's voice. He was as eager as everyone else to finish this case and go back to normal.

Normal. Whatever that was going to be. Angel wasn't quite sure what normal would mean to him... and Buffy. Yes, they had told each other that they were still in love. But love was one thing, the future another. Was she ready for a future with him? Because, he sure as hell wanted a future with her. They had already lost four years. And only days ago he had almost lost her completely. All he wanted was to hold her close and never let her go again. Preferably by putting a ring on her finger and carrying her off to a happily-ever-after. The only question was, did Buffy want that? After what she'd been through with Riley, was she ready for another commitment that would bind her to a man?

The back door of the car suddenly opened, and Mike Harmon slipped into the seat beside Cordelia. "Hi guys," he said, his face a mask of stone. Somehow, Angel thought, it was comforting that he wasn't the only one who'd gone to hell. Mike was just going through his own, private one. His fiancée would face mortal danger in just a few minutes and all he could do was pray it would be all right in the end.

"Mike," Xander turned slightly in his seat and nodded at the younger man. "How's she holding up?"

"Barely," Mike replied. Combing his fingers through his short hair, he took a deep breath, "Simone is scared shitless, plus she's got all the guilt on her shoulder regarding her father. She knows that we're going to arrest him today if everything goes as planned and it’s tearing her apart."

The radio in front cracked and then they heard Spike's voice again. The blond detective was located on a roof behind the old warehouse and watching the scene to report what was going on. "Holy sh- sorry, Sir," he apologized, obviously remembering that the District Attorney was part of their team today, "Damn, I wanted to say. Our friend Griffith brought some sort of army with him. I can at least count ten armed men."

"Ten!" Xander exclaimed incredulously. "Holy cow."

"That's what I call a tight security." Cordelia's voice held a trace of sarcasm, but there was also a hint of admiration in it. You could say a lot about David Griffith, but you could hardly call him careless or stupid.

"Yeah," Angel said through gritted teeth. This was going to be a rough game. Damn it. He was thinking about a future with Buffy. Hell, he should probably pray that he was going to survive today and then hang on his daydreams. Ten armed men. Damn, damn, damn. And he would be in the middle of it. And Simone and...

He closed his eyes for a moment and forced himself to calm down. Panic wouldn't help anyone. At least Buffy was far away from this. At least she was safe now. He didn't even want to imagine how he'd feel if she was part of this. He had deliberately not told her what was going to happen today, how dangerous their plan was. He didn't want her to worry, but somehow, in the depth of her hazel eyes he'd seen she already knew.

Angel quickly glanced at Mike Harmon through the rear mirror. His face was locked up, the jaw set, the set of his shoulders showing the nervous tension that was probably searing through him, hell, it was in all of them. But it was his eyes that gave him away. There was fear in them, but there was also determination, to get the job done. Mike Harmon would become a very fine detective, Angel was sure of it. One of the very best.

"All players on board," Spike's voice came again. "Repeat. All players on board. It's your turn Detective Reardon." There was a short pause and then he said, "Be careful, Angel. I would really miss you."

Despite the situation Angel had to chuckle, "Thanks. Just cover my back."

There was no reply. Without a doubt that was because Spike had already left the roof and was changing locations so that he could help Angel if needed. The dark-haired detective felt a hand on his shoulder and turning his head he saw Cordelia looking at him with concerned eyes. He covered her hand with his and squeezed it, "Keep your fingers crossed," he said and left the car.

*****

Simone Chambers tried to keep the tremble out of her hands so that nobody would notice that she was scared witless. Never before, not even when she'd realized what Riley Finn was planning with her, had she been so afraid. She was emerging the limousine with her father, holding on to his offered arm and walking to a warehouse that could become her deathbed if anything went wrong today.

Mike. She desperately tried to think about Mike. His smile. His lips. His gentle hands. His love. He was everything she'd ever wanted and now she could lose it in a matter of minutes.

"Are you alright, honey?" she heard her father ask and nodded absentmindedly.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I think I've got a slight case of flu."

Derryl Chambers stopped and with concern his eyes rested on his only child. "You should've stayed at home then. I know it was your idea to come with me and I'm glad that you're interested in my business, but I don't want you to overexert if you don't feel well."

She gazed up at him. Her father was a tall man and she had to tilt her head to look into his familiar blue eyes. She remembered all the things Mike had told her about her father's business and only at the very last moment managed to stifle a cry of agony. Could it really be? Was her father the kind of monster, Mike had described? Was it possible that the man, who had held her, read stories to her when she'd been a little girl, was it possible that this man could be part of David Griffith's organization? God, she didn't want to believe it.

"I'm fine, Daddy," she replied, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "No need to worry. I'm dying to learn more about your business. I'm your only heir, Dad, I should know all the important things."

"Yes, you keep saying that. And you’re right," he suddenly frowned, then sighed, "Still, I want you to tell me if you get tired."

Could this concern be a fake, she wondered. Could all his love, his affection been false? God, please, don't let it be true. Don't let him be involved in murder and other horrible crimes. "I will," she managed to smile and followed him when he went towards the entrance.

A tall and bulky man spotted them and nodded, clearly recognizing her father. Simone felt her hopes crumple. This man, who worked for David Griffin, knew her father. He knew her father. She closed her eyes for a second, and then opened them again. She thought again about Mike and his promises of love and a future together. She would concentrate on that. There was time to mourn the loss of her childhood illusions later.

*****

Willow gaped at her injured friend in the hospital bed as if she'd never seen her before. "Oh my God," the redhead breathed, her eyes huge and shocked. "A dirty cop. I can't believe it. And Angel and Spike working for Internal Affairs. And you. Oh, Buffy."

"I'm sorry, Will. I'm sorry, I couldn't tell you the truth. We were sworn to secrecy," Buffy explained, squeezing the redhead's hand that was still laying in hers.

"That's not it," Willow shook her head, to clear the confusion in her mind. "I understand, why you had to do it. I'm a cop too remember? Granted, I sit at the computer most of the times and do research and other boring stuff, but that doesn't mean I don't understand. But a dirty cop," she shook her head again. Suddenly her eyes were sharp and inquiring, "Who?"

"Huh?"

"Who is it?" she asked, looking intently at Buffy. "Do you know who the cop is?"

Buffy took a deep breath and returned her friend's intense stare. This was the tricky part. She wasn't supposed to give that kind of information away. Tim Philips would certainly kill her for it. On the other hand. The show was going down today, so what could it hurt? So she pulled Willow close and then whispered the name in her friend's ear.

The redhead's eyes widened even more, and she pulled back, not really able to believe what she'd heard. But Buffy's eyes were so serious, there was no doubt she meant it. Still, it made no sense, why would that person...

As if the blond had sensed Willow's thoughts, she said, "It's the money. It's about a hell lot of money, Will. And that's what frightens me. Because the moment money is involved people don't care about who's hurt anymore. Plus they're cornering in on them right now." She took a deep breath, her voice suddenly shaking, when she added, "And Angel's right in the middle. He didn't want to tell me, Will. But I know. He's going to be right in the line of fire."

********

"Diane." David Griffin's eyes lit up when his eyes fell on the blond who was walking into the room. "How good of you to come."

"David," Diane turned the corners of her mouth up in what resembled a flirtatious smile. "I couldn't believe it when I got the invitation," she slightly turned her head, her gaze flickering to one of David Griffin's bodyguards. "And you even delivered it personally, you shouldn't have." Now her eyes narrowed and her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

The same instant David's eyes cooled as well, "I had the feeling you wouldn't come otherwise."

Diane didn't comment that, but her eyebrows rose when she saw Derryl Chambers and his daughter coming through the door of the warehouse. "More guests?" she asked, looking back to David.

"As a matter of fact," he replied, and she saw a flicker of astonishment in his eyes. He clearly hadn't expected for Simone to accompany her father.

"Derryl, my old friend," he stood from his desk to greet the two people.

"And the beautiful Simone. What an honor."

Derryl Chambers gave David Griffin what could be called a regal nod, while Simone forced herself to extend a hand and endure the kiss the older man was breathing on its back. David Griffin might be a gangster, but etiquette was important for him. Only at the last moment Simone stifled a noise of disgust. And this moment, for the first time in her life, she hated her father. For disguising her, for lying to her, and that he put her through something like that. For his hidden black heart.

"Mr. Griffin," she forced herself to say.

"David, please," he replied with an elegant bow, his eyes traveling over her form, resting on her breasts and Simone suppressed the urge to knee him in his groin.

"Come on," he turned and started towards the back part of the warehouse where several men were waiting for them and a blond woman, Simone recognized as Diane Massey, Griffin's girlfriend. "Let's get to business."

*****

Angel ducked in the shadow of a tree while he approached the warehouse, hoping that nobody saw him before he'd arrived at his destination. He was already close when Spike suddenly spoke through the headset he was wearing.

"Last subject not at the meeting point. Repeat. Last subject not at the meeting point."

Angel stopped instantly, his blood turning to ice. "What do you mean," he asked, his voice carefully controlled, "last subject not at the meeting point? I thought you said all players on board."

There was a short silence, but Angel was sure he heard his friend curse in the background, then Spike's voice came back again, "It's my fault, buddy. I thought she was there. But obviously there are look-a-likes running around."

"Damn," Angel cursed as well and leaned against a near by tree, his legs suddenly feeling weak. The person they were looking for, the dirty cop was not on board. Where the hell... and then it hit him like a bullet through the guts. Buffy. The target was Buffy. God, he was such an idiot. She had been a target before. The bomb had been planted underneath her car.

Starting a dead run back to his car, he shouted through his microphone, "Cover. I need someone to cover me in this operation. And I need a free line to the hospital. NOW," he bellowed. His lungs were burning already, but he didn't slow down, if anything, he even increased his speed.

"I'm covering you," Spike replied through the headset. "Repeat. I'm taking your place. Go," he shouted, obviously having the same thoughts. His next words made it clear. "Take care of her."

Buffy had been Riley's wife. And they had killed Riley because he knew something. It had to be the pictures that Riley's brother had brought them. They just had been too stupid to see it. The attack on Buffy hadn't been a warning for them. It had been an attempt to kill her. Her. Riley's wife. The most likely person to know about his secret. Divorce or no, they had been close for a long time. Dammit, he thought desperately, finally reaching the car where Mike, Xander and Cordelia were already waiting for him.

"Do you have the line to the hospital?" he asked breathlessly.

"What the hell is going on?" Cordelia wanted to know, but was handing him her cell phone.

Ignoring her question, he took it, "Faith? Is everything clear? ... Good. Any visitors? ... No? That's ... WHAT? WHO? DAMMIT ... I said no visitors without my direct ... Never mind. Forget about it. It's not really important."

He turned and looked at Cordelia, then at Xander, "Willow is with Buffy at the moment," he told them, repeating what Faith had told him just before, his eyes grave. Turning his attention back to the phone, he said, "Listen to me now, Faith. This is important. I have to tell you something, you’re going to hardly believe, but you have to. There is a dirty cop... yeah, a dirty cop..."

He was talking to her while getting rid of his headset and signaling Xander to come with him. "Faith, wait a moment," he said, and turned towards Cordelia. "I have no time to explain this. But subject one is at the hospital this very moment. Spike can explain. I have to go. If anything happens to Buffy, it'll be my fault."

With that he slipped into the car and continued talking to Faith, while Xander was flooring the accelerator.

*****

Simone had the feeling as if she was walking through a nightmare. There were armed men. Lots of them. They were surrounding a large desk where two foreign looking men were sitting. They were obviously of South American origin, and they were smiling and joking with Diane Massey.

David Griffin stopped in front of the desk, and then turned and smiled at Simone, "May I introduce my friends. These are Sergio and Enrique Royos. Guys, this is Simone, the daughter of our friend Derryl."

Simone was hoping desperately that the shock she felt didn’t show on her face. Sergio and Enrique Royos. She had never met them before. But she had heard of them. Who hadn't? They were two of the most wanted drug dealers around. Both born and raised in Colombia, they had taken over the smuggling of drugs into L.A. from their father about five years ago.

She watched when her father shook hands with them, no doubt they knew each other, had met before. She felt the last of her hopes crumbling at her feet, and again concentrated on Mike's face last night, when he'd told her he loved her. She would make it through this. And then she would start forgetting about a man who had deceived her all her life.

On autopilot Simone extended her hand again for Sergio and Enrique to kiss. She smiled at David Griffin when he explained that Simone was accompanying her father to learn the business, and she even managed to smile at Diane Massey who she despised. The blond was nothing but a cheap whore in Simone's eyes, looking for the next rich lover to lead an easy life.

But of course this person wasn't Diane Massey. Diane Massey was sitting in the precinct, guarded by two uniformed officers, while her twin had taken her place. Knowing that made it easier to smile at the other woman.

"David," Diane/Darla was saying, while studying her nails, "can we get on with it? I don't have the whole day. I really need to be on time for the appointment with my hairdresser."

David laughed slightly, and Simone saw him shaking his head. God, she wanted to kill the guy. Right here and now. Her father laughed too, and she felt sick.

"Okay, guys," David turned and addressed Sergio Royos, "Show us what you have."

"Why don't we show each other what we have?" Enrique suggested, in his soft accented English.

"The money," David Griffin ordered and snapped his fingers at Floyd Brady, who appeared instantly carrying a large bag. He put it on the table and opened it. There was money in it, lots of it. Sergio smiled and the same moment another bag appeared on the table.

Although she had expected it, Simone couldn't suppress the slight gasp that escaped her mouth when she saw little bags inside, filled with a white powder. No doubt it was cocaine.

And then, chaos exploded. The doors of the warehouse were pushed open, officers and detectives were coming inside, shouting. Simone could see the blond detective who Mike had told her was called Spike. He was holding a mean looking weapon, pointing it at David Griffin, while Darla had drawn her own gun and held it towards Sergio Royos. It all happened so quick nobody had time to react.

"Keep your hands up," Spike warned approaching the table. "Check," he spoke into his headset, "Things are under control." He ripped one of the little bags open, stuck his finger inside and licked it. His face split into a huge grin and he spoke into the headset again, "Tim, my friend," he said to the DA, "I think that case couldn't be tighter. About fifty pounds of nice, white stuff and two eyewitnesses. One of them a police officer. This is like Christmas, buddy." He instantly became serious, when he listened to the reply. "Yes, got that. Any news from Angel?"

*****

"Man, I can't believe this," Xander said for the umpteenth time while he was driving. He had tears in his eyes, but there was firm determination in them as well.

Angel nodded absentmindedly at him, his concentration on the voice that was talking to him over the cell phone. "I hear you. Be careful, Faith. We'll be there in about ten minutes... Yes." He closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them and Xander could see that he was fighting for an answer, "Alright. If necessary eliminate the target."

He turned the phone off and stared at it for a long moment. Xander drove straight through a red light, ignoring the horns sounding around them, "She’s going for Buffy, isn't she?"

"Yes," Angel confirmed. "The target is Buffy because she was Riley's wife. She's expected to know certain things. Even though she doesn't."

A tear slipped from the younger man's eye, "I can't believe it. They’re colleagues. And I always thought we were friends. God, this isn't true." He shook his head, almost missing the entrance of the hospital parking space.

"But it is," Angel replied and jumped out of the car. He ran towards the entrance of the hospital, knowing that Xander was following right behind, and dialed a number on Cordelia's cell phone.

*****

"You should rest now," Willow said, standing up and smiling down at her friend. "You must be tired."

"I'm not that bad," Buffy replied with a shrug, wincing when the little movement sent stabs of pain through her whole body.

"Yes, you should," the redhead said firmly. "Close your eyes, Buffy."

The blond smiled at her again, and then did as told and her lids slipped over her eyes. She sighed, and was apparently falling asleep, when suddenly the phone at her bed stand rang. Her eyes opened again and with an apologetic look at Willow she picked it up. "Yes? ... Angel!" Her face brightened, and she smiled. Only a second later the smile slipped and was replaced by an expression of concern, then disbelief, then almost agony, "No," she breathed into the receiver. "Oh, no. Angel," she whispered. "Oh, God. ... Yes. ... Yes. ... All right. I love you too."

Buffy closed her eyes for a short moment, and when she opened them again, she turned her head to look at Willow. Her friend, since they'd been fifteen years old.

And she gasped.

The woman in front of her wasn't the Willow she knew. It was some stranger, her face cold and set firmly, she was pointing a gun at the blonde's head.

*****

"Faith," Angel shouted racing towards the brunette detective, the phone at his ear. "Yes," he spoke into it, his eyes on Faith and on the man standing beside her, his wrist secured in handcuffs. It was David Gadget. "Yes, we've got him," he confirmed to Giles who was on the other end of the line. "Yes, I know. No, Giles, I'm certain. We always thought it was one dirty cop, but obviously there were two." He turned to look at Xander who had joined them, panting heavily, "Yes, I'm certain, the identification is positive. ... Yes... I know it's difficult to believe, but frankly, I don't have time for this now, because Willow is with Buffy this very moment."

He switched off the cell, and looked at David Gadget who was staring at him with hateful eyes. "You're too late, Reardon. There's nothing you can do. The little bitch is going to die."

"You bastard," Xander hissed, fighting with the tears that threatened to spill over. "What did you do to pull her into this?"

"Nothing," Gadget replied, "It was her idea from the start."

"Her-" Xander's voice cracked and he had to turn away, pain threatening to consume him. Willow. His longest, most trusted friend. God, this was a nightmare.

He flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder, "What?" he asked, not turning around, not wanting for anyone to see his tear streaked face.

"I'm sorry," Faith said gently, nodding at the two uniformed officers to lead David Gadget away. "I can hardly believe it myself. I know she was your friend."

"She's inside," Kate Lockley came around the corner, "and she's pointing a gun at Buffy." She looked at Angel, "What are we going to do?"

"Follow me," Angel shouted at her and she ran after him towards Buffy's room.

*****

"Willow," Buffy breathed, surprise and disappointment in her voice.

"Yeah," the redhead replied, shrugged and sat down again on the chair she'd just moved back into the corner. "Surprise, huh?"

"God, Willow," the blond blinked threatening tears away. "How could you?"

The redhead shrugged again, "You said it before. It's the money. Oz's business isn't what we need it to be and besides, I'm sick of always counting my money, I'm too young to not live life in the fullest."

Buffy shook her head, "That's not you talking here, Will," she said, "That just doesn't sound like you."

Willow raised a brow, quickly looked at the gun in her hand then back at the other woman, "You think? Well, then maybe you never knew me."

"Obviously I didn't," the blond agreed, a sad smile crossing her features. "God, Will. You were my friend. You were my bridesmaid and I trusted you."

"Bummer, huh?" The redhead crossed one leg over the other, rested one elbow on them. "But you said it yourself. Money makes people forget about anything else. I never knew I wanted money so badly until I had had a taste of it. It's really addictive, you know. And comfortable."

"What about Oz?" Buffy asked.

"What about him? He knows nothing about my... uh... private transaction here. But he's too tied up with his computers to even notice that there's more money than ever before. He actually thinks he's earned it," she shook her head, "He never had a mind for money. Without me the poor man would be lost."

"I see," the blond replied. "And... what about your baby?"

"The baby?" she shrugged, "What about it? It will be a happy baby. A rich baby. It will have all the stuff I didn't."

"You actually believe you get away with this."

"Of course," Willow said, standing up, and approaching the bed, the gun still pointing at Buffy. With a smile she reached into her pocket, produced a silencer, and then adapted it on the gun. "Because you’re going to die. And nobody will ever know."

"Don't do it, Willow," Buffy said, looking at her friend steadily. "You don't want to do it."

The redhead laughed in response. A hollow sound. "Of course I want to do it." She chuckled, "You are so naive, Buffy. So good. So sweet. Gee, you can’t even guess how bored I was to be close to you all the time, pretending I liked you."

"Pretending you liked me?" Buffy asked, in total disbelief. She shook her head, showing the other woman how disappointed she was. "I'm very sorry Will."

The redhead laughed again, "You shouldn't pity me. Better pity yourself. You're going to need it in your next life."

And then she pulled the trigger.

********

same day, 10.00 p.m., Los Angeles

Angel couldn't stop touching her. He needed to reassure himself that she was, even looking pale and sad, and lying on a hospital bed, indeed alive. He would never forget the moment he'd stormed through the door of Buffy's room and found Willow standing in front of the blonde's bed, the gun still in her hand, the distinctive smell of a fired weapon in the air.

And he had been sure he'd been too late. Too late to save Buffy, too late to make his dreams come true. But like a miracle, Buffy, summoning all her remaining strength, rolled away the very last moment, and so the shot had only hit the pillow instead of Buffy's head. It was a miracle she was still alive, and that her roll from the bed hadn't caused further damage to her already bruised and broken body.

"I still can't believe it," she was saying now, fighting tears again.

In response, Angel took her hand in his and kissed its back. "I know," he murmured. "It's really hard to believe. She was your friend for so long."

She blinked rapidly and then turned her head to look at him, "The problem is, I can't stop wondering what part of her affection was genuine and what part was nothing but acting. Did she ever like me? When did it start to change? Did she start lying when we were in high school together? I..." her voice broke and silent tears slipped from her eyes. "God, Angel, how could this happen?"

He kissed her hand again, this time its palm, and holding it in both of his hands, he thought about Riley and a life-long friendship that had been destroyed by jealousy and fate, and realized that Buffy was experiencing the same thing now. "I've asked the same thing myself," he said.

"About Riley," she replied and it wasn't a question. She understood. "But at least Riley didn't try to kill you. I still can't believe she tried it twice. I just can’t believe she was the one who planted the bomb under my car. How can money be more important than friendship?"

It hadn't been about money in the end, Angel knew, and he told her.

Confused she looked up at him, "But what about then? What pushed her so over the edge that she was willing to kill me? Angel, about two weeks ago we had lunch at Cara's. She was like... the way she always was. My friend. How could she lie like this into my face?"

"It was because-," he began to reply when the door opened and Xander's head appeared.

"Hi," he said, his voice blank, his eyes incredibly sad. "May I come in?"

Buffy's lips twitched into the whisper of a smile, "It's the first time you’ve actually asked," she tried a lame joke, but he didn't pay attention. "Sure, come in."

A little bit uncertain he looked at Angel, but the older man just nodded and stood. "I'm going to go for a little. I need some coffee. Don't make it too long," he said, turning at Xander, "She needs her rest." With that he slipped out of the door.

"How are you?" Buffy asked softly, but Xander didn't look at her, just stared out of the window, his hands buried in his pockets. She had felt horrible about Willow, but now she noticed it was nothing compared to what her friend must feel right now.

He didn't answer at first, just continued staring out of the window. Finally he spoke. "It's strange, you know. After we knew you were all right, and after Faith and Kate took... her away, I went home. I needed to see Anya and the baby. They were the same. Anya kissed me and my son was happy. Nothing's changed." He paused for a moment and took a deep breath, "And yet everything has."

"We lost the rest of our innocence," Buffy said thoughtfully, knowing instinctively that he felt the same. "I already lost most of it through the mess with Riley, and when Mike died. But today I found out that we never really know another person. I'm glad Angel and I found each other again. Without him, I might have given up on life completely." She smiled slightly when he turned to her and his eyes narrowed. "Hey, I wasn't talking about suicide. I would've gotten through it. But I might not have been able to trust anyone again. And without trust life is incredibly empty. Because without trust there is no real friendship, no real love."

"Yeah, I know," he replied, raking a hand through his short hair. "I just think I’ll ever believe it. It's lost forever. That's why I needed to see Anya and our son. I needed to touch something that's good, not tainted." He turned back to the window again, staring into the night, hoping somehow that the darkness could swallow all ugliness away. Of course he knew it wasn't possible. "I hate her, you know," he admitted finally, "Not only for trying to kill you. But for stealing all the good memories I have of her. I always treasured our time as kids. Now it," he shrugged, a helpless, weary gesture, "it's all tainted. I’ll never be able to think about her with fondness. And I really, really hate her for it."

"I know," she said holding out a hand to him, glad when he came to the bed and accepted it. There was a long way to go, but maybe they could try to heal together. "It's the same for me," she told him when he sat down at the edge of her bed. "Angel understands it too. It might not be exactly the same, but Riley turned against him too."

"But at least Riley felt bad for it. He hated himself so much in the end that he didn't even care he was dying anymore. But Willow-" his voice cracked and he had to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat, had to blink away the hot tears, a mixture of anger, disappointment and deep, painful grief. Helplessly he shook his head, "There was no remorse, no regret for trying to kill you. God, it's going to kill Oz."

"Have you seen him yet?" Buffy asked, squeezing his hand, hurting for a man whose wife would go to jail, had betrayed him as much as her friends, and who was carrying his child. Oz was a taciturn man, he wasn't the kind to open up and talk. Would he ever get over it, Buffy wondered? Could you get over such a thing?

"No." Xander took a deep breath and rubbed a hand over his face, stubble growing in. "I have no idea what to say to him."

"Tell him, you’re his friend and that you'll be there for him whenever he needs you," came Angel's voice from the doorway. He'd entered so quietly, they hadn't heard him. He smiled briefly at Buffy, who returned it and then looked at Xander again, "And he is going to need you. Willow's obviously decided to make a deal."

Xander's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?"

"She agreed to make a full statement," Cordelia said stepping into the room behind Angel. She smiled at the woman in the bed, "She’ll tell us everything she knows. About David Griffin, his organization, his contacts, and everything. The FBI has been informed and it looks as if she could get off pretty easily."

"Oh, that's rich," Xander scoffed, stood and began to pace the room. "So she might come off with two years or what?"

"She might not even be charged," Cordelia said, not liking it herself, "The FBI was talking about a witness protection program." She rubbed her weary eyes and then combed the hand through her hair.

"Gee, so she just talks a little, and the reward for trying to kill Buffy, for deceiving all her friends, is a new name and a new life?" Xander walked back to the window, stared into the night again. "Man, maybe I should try it too."

"I know it's not fair," the brunette closed the door behind her and leaned against it. "But David Griffin and Derryl Chambers are the really big fish in the water here. Willow's just a dirty cop."

Xander snorted but didn't say anything. After a moment of silence, Angel cleared his throat, "She told Giles and the FBI that one of Griffin's snipers shot Riley. It seems the whole thing is pretty complicated." He crossed the room and sat down with Buffy. "With his sister escaped from her husband, Riley was forced to do something. So he did. It seems that David Griffin found out everything about Riley's little problem and he knew Eunice's husband. He threatened to expose her. He blackmailed Riley to force himself on Simone Chambers. Griffin needed the pictures to keep Derryl Chambers on track, should he ever consider leaving their little family.

"Riley on the other hand blackmailed Simone, because he found out she knew certain things about her father. I'm not trying to find an excuse, but at least his blackmailing had the ulterior motive to save his sister. Of course, he should've told us everything and tried to find a legal way out of the mess. But he was already in so deep, and with the guilt he was carrying around regarding Mike's death, and all he had done to help Eunice," Angel shook his head, and smiled at Buffy when she took his hand, "He couldn't stand the idea of going to jail."

"But why would Griffin kill him?" Buffy wanted to know.

"Because he found out that Riley had stored information about him. Some kind of safety assurance. So he killed Riley. Then his men found the dangerous information Riley had hidden. Yet, it wasn't all of it. They had no idea Riley had sent copies of everything to his brother. So they assumed you had it. That was the moment it was decided to eliminate you as well. As you remember, there were pictures of David Gadget in the envelope. Willow obviously thought she was in danger of being exposed as well."

Xander who had listened to the whole story, turned back to his friends. "Where is she now?"

"They brought her to the precinct," Cordelia replied, "But the FBI wanted to take care of her. Why?"

"If she isn't going to jail, then she's going to keep the baby, right?"

"I suppose so. Oz came to the precinct," she told Xander. "He seemed to take it well, but that's just Oz. He never shows a lot of emotion. The FBI offered to take him into the program with her, but he refused. He knows that she's going to take the baby with her." She paused for a moment, and then added thoughtfully, "Maybe it's best that way."

"No, it's not," Xander replied forcefully, "How can you say that? He finds out that his wife betrayed everyone and on top of it, he's going to lose his unborn child."

"It’ll hurt," Angel said, holding onto Buffy's hand, glad he wasn't forced to make such a horrible decision, "but a clear cut is the only way. For all of them. It's actually the baby who’s going to lose the most in this. Either it will lose a mother or a father. And it will never know that lost parent."

"God, this is such a mess," Xander crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. "Why did she have to do this?" he asked again. "What is so wrong with this life, that she needed to do what she did? Can anybody explain it to me, because I'm never going to understand it."

"Some people aren't as content as you," Angel replied quietly. "They want more. And they want it any possible way. That's why we’re here. To get those who leave the legal path."

Cordelia looked at the lovers on the bed and smiled, determined not to give in to depression, "Well, I suppose you aren't in danger of leaving the legal way. Speaking of being legal, my wedding’s in about four weeks. How about a double wedding?"

"Well," Buffy smiled at her gratefully, understanding what the brunette was trying to do. She felt terribly sad, but life went on, and looking at Angel she knew it had beautiful things in store for her, "we haven't actually talked about a date or marrying at all for that matter."

"You haven't?" Cordelia asked in mocked shock. "Well, then go on, ask her."

Angel chuckled, "I would prefer a more... private moment for that kind of thing," he told her. >{?"Oh," she grinned. "Privacy. We can do that, can't we, Xand?" she turned and looked gently at her old friend.

"Yeah, sure," he tried a smile and his lips twitched. "I need to go home anyway. I promised Anya not to be too late. See you tomorrow. And," he paused in the doorway, "I would like a double wedding. Hope the cake's going to be huge."

"Love you too, Xand," Buffy said when he slipped out of the room. She smiled at Cordelia who followed him and when the door closed behind them, she turned to Angel. "I totally understand if you don't want to marry now or... ever. We haven't talked about it so far. I don't even know if you're going to stay in L.A. or if you want to move back to New York." She licked her lips nervously, "I mean, I don't want you to feel-"

He stopped her rambling with a sweet kiss and when their lips parted he smiled, "I couldn't think of any better timing," he said, stroking her cheek. "It's like announcing that we still believe in the good things in life." No, they hadn't talked about their future so far, but with the events of the last days it was suddenly so easy to see that life was short and precious and that there was no time to waste a single moment of it.

"Yeah," she agreed, smiling as well. "So are you going to propose, or should I?" she only half-joked. Inside everything was fluttering. This was about a marriage to Angel. Something she'd dreamed about for so long.

"You might laugh at me now," he said, his face serious, "but deep inside I'm a very traditional kind of guy. In my eyes the man does the proposing. So," he grinned and slipped from the bed.

Buffy couldn't stop the tear slipping from her eyes when he went down on one knee.

END