Unforgettable (cont...)

Part 10

##...## Indicates flashbacks

The same day, 11.00 a.m.

"So you see, Detective Summers," Giles was saying, "We need this report by Monday - and that's the last possible date..."

Buffy nodded absentmindedly at his words, tuning out from time to time, her eyes repeatedly flickering to Drusilla's desk outside the lieutenant’s office, her irritation growing by the second.

Angel was there with the raven-haired woman, he was sitting on the edge of her desk, laughing from time to time, leaning forward toward her. They made a picture perfect couple. She couldn't hear a word they were saying and it was very likely the whole scene was completely innocent, but she couldn't help the distinct pang of jealousy she was feeling at the sight of them so close.

There never had been anything between Angel and his rookie four years ago but that didn't mean it couldn't happen now. But hadn't she noticed that Spike had shown interest in Drusilla? Angel wouldn't try to hit on his friend's love-interest, not after what he'd been through himself. Buffy was sure of that, if nothing else.

And why the hell did she care anyway? She had no claim on Angel Reardon, with his deep brown eyes you wanted to drown in, his sensual mouth, the well muscled body and... God, just shoot me, she thought. She had no right to feel this way, she told herself firmly. Not after she'd sent him away, when he came all but begging her to rethink her decision, not to throw their love away and she'd told him she hadn’t known a thing about love, until Riley had come along and shown her the real thing.

Real thing, my ass, she snorted inwardly. Yes, Riley certainly had shown her the real thing. But it hadn't been love. Far from it. As far as Riley was concerned, love could've been a word from old Egyptian it was so foreign to him. Jealousy, anger, bitterness. Those were more the words he was acquainted with. And violence.

Now Angel was leaning forward and one of his hands came to lie on Drusilla's shoulder. She had to turn away, not able to watch any longer and she started when her gaze landed on Giles who had stopped talking and was eyeing her closely, speculatively. "What?" she asked, trying to shake off the images that were running wild in her head. Angel kissing Drusilla, undressing her, making... God, maybe she was finally going to lose it. But she could still feel his hands on her, stroking her, his voice soothing her, telling her everything would be all right after Riley had tried to hurt her in the worst possible way.

"I was just wondering where you were," Giles said gently, then turned his head, nodding pointedly at Angel and Drusilla who were now laughing wholeheartedly. "Of course it wasn't hard to figure out."

"I'm sorry," she replied, the fingers of her right hand playing with her long, blond hair. "I seem to have problems concentrating today. Didn't sleep well, I guess. With the upcoming divorce and all," she added.

"Yes, sure, the divorce," Giles said mildly, not hiding that he didn't believe one word she was saying. There was no denying what was disturbing his officer this morning. Not that he thought for one moment that Angel Reardon was even slightly interested in Drusilla Petersen. He was too old not to see the way Angel was looking at Buffy every time he thought she wouldn't see.

Their love affair may have been over for a long time, but Giles was sure the love wasn't - not by a long shot. They just came with a lot of baggage, and regarding that fact it was a rough road they had ahead of them. He admitted to himself that he was wrong to think that it wouldn't be good for Buffy to see Angel again. Reassessing the situation now he was sure it was quite the opposite. For the first time in years Buffy looked more than just plain mentally dead.

"Yeah," the blond replied, glad he didn't insist on talking about Angel. No way she would talk with her boss about Angel, "it's rather messy." She inhaled deeply, "But of course this isn't something that belongs here."

"Oh, I wouldn't agree," he said, giving her a smile, "You and your soon-to-be ex-husband are both detectives of this precinct, so maybe the private parts of the divorce aren't my business, but if it intrudes work it sure as hell is. He's giving you a hard time?"

She looked at him and hesitated for a moment, before she sighed, "Well, he's just Riley I guess. I didn't realize what kind of guy he was when we got together. And I didn't know for a while after we're married. But soon," she sighed again. "This really isn't fun. And now he just behaves... typical, I suppose. Don't get me wrong, I still think he's a good cop, his record is proof of that, but... maybe, we just didn't match."

"Or the situation was wrong," Giles remarked, understanding in his eyes. "You married him when you were very vulnerable, when you thought you'd been betrayed by a man you thought you loved."

There was such deep knowledge in his words that Buffy shivered involuntarily. Her own problems forgotten for the moment, she asked, "Who was she?" Startled by her blunt question, he drew a sharp breath, and she held up a hand, "You don't have to tell me. It’s not any of my business," she said, smiling apologetically.

"No, it isn't," he replied, his smile incredibly sad, "It happened a long time ago. I loved her, very much. But then I found out that she just used me by forwarding all the things I thought were said in private to her brother who happened to be deeply into drugs. So you see, I can relate. Only that Angel didn't do anything."

"No, he didn't," she agreed. "But when all the stuff happened, I wasn't... I couldn't..." she stopped, not really knowing how to explain her feelings the days and weeks after her half-brother had been shot accidentally in a cross-fire with Angel's weapon.

"Think straight?," he asked, his eyes warm and understanding.

All she could reply was giving him a small, miserable nod.

"You don't have to tell me," Giles said gently, "And this," he pointed at a file on his desk, "can certainly wait another day. We could meet tomorrow after lunch to talk about it."

"Thanks," she smiled gratefully, "Thanks, Giles."

"No problem. Maybe you should just talk to him," he suggested.

Now her smile was sad, "I think it's much too late for this. I missed my chance for," she shrugged, "Well, I missed it."

"If you say so," he said, not quite believing her. She was already at the door, when his voice made her turn around, "And Buffy, there will never be anything but friendship between Drusilla Peterson and Angel," he was smiling in the end.

"Yeah, I know," she said, but the sadness was still present, "But that doesn't mean, he's going to risk his heart again with me, does it?" With this she slipped from his office, her gaze instantly turning towards Drusilla's desk, but there was only the female officer, Angel Reardon was nowhere in sight.

*****

17.00 p.m.

Not only Spike hated observations, Angel mused while he was sitting in his car that was standing in front of a huge brick stone house that looked as if it should be standing in Boston. It looked so completely out of place that it was almost funny. Almost.

And the reason Angel was sitting in his car in front of the out-of-place house was that it was another of Derryl Chambers' properties. Simone Chambers had entered the house, and Angel was sure it was to check out the place. What he hadn't expected was for Riley Finn to arrive only minutes afterwards. This had been about an hour ago and neither Mike Harmon's fiancée nor the detective had come out again. Angel couldn't be sure what was going on inside the walls, but it sure was suspicious as hell.

He glanced to his side and sighed at the sight of several empty cans of coke and some other stuff littering his car, all leftovers of Spike's presence during the past days. Not today though. The blond was - as Angel had told Cordelia - following Darla Massey and Angel couldn't wait to hear what he would have to say in the evening. Diana Massey was dating David Griffin. He shook his head. Jesus, this case was certainly complicated.

Despite the litter that was covering the floor of his car, Angel missed Spike today. He missed his cocky retorts and comments, his dry humor and the way he could see things clearly as glass. And he could certainly use that now, when the observation of Simone Chambers had suddenly turned into an observation of Riley Finn as well.

Angel had planned to leave Riley to Spike, as he'd done it with Darla, but now fate had decided against it and although Angel didn't like the situation, there was absolutely nothing he could do to change it. He could hardly call Cordelia and refuse to investigate Riley. Nope, no way he could do that. The brunette would laugh - not in a friendly way - and just slam the receiver back down, thinking he'd lost his marbles.

None of them could understand - maybe not even Spike - how he felt about Riley Finn. His feelings were so mixed up he had a hard time understanding them. When Cordelia had told him about Riley beating Buffy anger had been the dominant one. Not just anger, rage. It had been all he could do not to leave the apartment, search for Riley and beat him up the way he did to Buffy. God, just thinking about it, made Angel's stomach churn.

What on earth had happened to the Riley Finn he'd known almost since they'd played together in pampers? If, and that was the really painful question, he'd ever been there at all. Could all their times together just have been a clever disguise? No, Angel dismissed the thought quickly. No way, a little boy could be that twisted. No, their friendship had been genuine. They had laughed together, joked together. Like the night, after the first football game in their sophomore year in high school when Riley had fallen for Lucy Turner, two years his senior and in the blonde's eyes extremely hot...

##"Man that game's a bitch," Riley slid down along the wall in the boy's locker room, completely exhausted, bruised and hurting, but grinning nonetheless.

"Yeah," Angel agreed, opening the door of his locker and throwing his sweaty sneakers inside. Turning his head he was grinning as well, "But we won."

"We sure have," the blond was wiping his dirty face, a blue bruise already showing under his right eye. "Did you see the huge giant they had in their defense line?" he asked.

"I did," Angel, commented, his grin never wavering, "Got you straight."

Riley chuckled at that and struggled to stand up. Playing high school football could be fun, but he would give a lot for a hot bath now. Tomorrow his body would be hurting like hell. He groaned when he already cold muscles protested against a certain movement, "Don't laugh," he warned his friend, "This isn't funny."

"Oh, but I think it is," the dark-haired boy replied, chuckling as well. "And don't think I didn't see Lucy Turner following every of your moves."

The blonde's head jerked around, "She did?" he asked, wondering why his voice was suddenly sounding so breathless.

"Yeah," Angel chuckled again, incredulously shaking his head, "Although I still can't see why you have the hots for her."

"You can't?" now it was Riley's term to look incredulous. "Do you want to tell me, you haven't seen her great ass and tits? I would bet she needs a D-cup already."

Angel groaned and rolled his eyes, "Is there anything else you are interested in a woman besides her body?"

"Nope," the blond grinned wickedly and pulled his dirt stained shirt over his head, "A great body is pretty much everything. Hey, I'm young. I want to enjoy myself, celebrate live. If not now, I wonder when it's going to happen."

"God, you're gross," his friend said with disgust. Riley could be such a jerk. Ass and tits - hardly the only important attributes of a girl. Not that Angel didn't appreciate certain attributes, but he preferred a girl who could also talk about interesting subjects anytime. Wham-bam in bed might be fun, Angel guessed, but there had to be more. Of course he had no way of really knowing it. He was, much to Riley's amusement, still a virgin.

His friend, of course, wasn't. Not that it was something special to not be a virgin as a sophomore in high school. Angel's mother had been shocked to the bone when he'd told her that most of the guys in his class had already slept with a girl. The world would come to an end, she'd said and it had been so typical for Carmen Reardon, the Mexican girl that had married his thoroughly Irish father. It was her whom he had to thank for his first name, the cause of lots of laughs throughout the years. But his mother was proud of it, always smiling and stroking his head, saying 'you're my Angel. You never brought anything but joy to this family.'

"Gross, huh?" Riley interrupted his musings, "Well, not everyone can be as holy as you, Angel." ##

Had there been an edge in his voice all those years ago, Angel tried to remember now. It had been 20 years ago, too much to be sure he remembered correctly. But maybe even then Riley had been eaten up with the sort of jealousy Angel had experienced in full four years ago. And that was the worst, the fact that he doubted everything now. Every gesture, every friendly arm around his shoulder, every pat on his back - what had been genuine and what... not?

Running a hand through his hair he exhaled a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. God, he hated this. Hated all this stuff being dragged up again. He thought he had left it all behind when he'd moved to New York, burying all his dreams of love and a future in the process. Burying Riley with them. But of course he'd been lying to himself. Things like these had a way of haunting you and he knew there hadn't been a day when Buffy hadn't been on his mind at least for a moment - several times a day. You didn't just leave the love of your life and forget about it. She might have done that, but he had never been able to - although if he believed Cordelia, he hadn't been far from Buffy's thoughts either.

He looked up when the door of the brick house opened and first Simone and then Riley appeared again. There was nothing indicating that it had been more than just a business meeting - even though that was quite strange, regarding the fact that Simone was the daughter of one of the richest men on the west coast and Riley was nothing more than a police officer, the son of poor Irish immigrants.

Angel would have sworn that Simone was in love with Mike Harmon the night before. The way she had touched him, had smiled at him, looked at him.

She was jerking her arm away now from Riley who had tried to touch her, glaring at him, her eyes narrowed and full of hate. What the hell was going on here? Angel wanted to jump from the car and ask them, but of course there was no way he could do that.

Riley was shouting at her now, but they were too far away for Angel to hear what they were saying. She was shouting back, her whole body trembling with rage, her eyes blazing. Then she turned round, slipped inside her car and drove away, the wheels burning the asphalt. She couldn't get away quickly enough.

Riley turned and now that Angel could see his face. He could also see the smile on his face. And it made his blood freeze. It was an evil smile, the smile of a man who held power - over a woman. The woman in question undoubtedly had been Simone. And she hated the blond. But why on earth then had her face been flushed in a way that could only mean one thing?

Damned, if Angel just knew what the hell was going on.

*****

18.30 p.m.

"Welcome in my humble home, my friend and," Doyle paused when Angel just breezed past him without any greeting, then shut the door behind the dark-haired man, "just make yourself at home," he added, certain that Angel hadn't listened to one word he'd been saying.

"Doyle did you remember to put the white wine into the fridge and..." Cordelia was just coming out of the kitchen and stopped dead in tracks when her eyes fell on their visitor. One of her perfect eyebrows rose in a mixture of surprise and indignation, "And what brings you here?"

"The job," Angel said curtly, not even bothering to greet his friends.

"That's too bad," she replied, already turning towards the kitchen again, "because as I already told you, this is job-free time. No work in my free time. We can talk tomorrow, come to my office at noon."

"Screw that," he told her, his voice holding definite anger and annoyance.

Not used to Angel using that kind of language around her, Cordelia froze for a second, and turned back to him - almost in slow motion. Then her eyebrow rose again, "Excuse me?"

He looked at her steadily, "I said screw that. And don't use that attitude on me. For once we know each other too long and too well, secondly I really don't give a damn about your free time. You tell me I have to get used to you showing up at my doorstep at 7.00 a.m., so you have to get used to the fact that important news won't wait until *you* have office hours. Understood?"

Cordelia could only stare at him. From the corner of her eye she saw Doyle was trying to suppress a grin that was threatening to spread across his lips. Of course *he* was enjoying the situation tremendously. Leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, he had the best view of this completely humiliating situation. Well, she knew when she'd lost, she thought. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath, and in opening her eyes again, she said, "Understood."

Doyle almost did a double take at that, and this time the brunette had to suppress a grin. He had expected her to shout and spit at Angel, certainly not to give in like that. But when she looked at him again, she could see the shine of pride in his eyes at her reaction and she knew again why she loved Doyle more than anything in the world. Oh yes, their marriage would be far from boring, but God, she could hardly wait to become Mrs. Doyle.

Angel, obviously as surprised as her soon-to-be husband, had to clear his throat, before he said, "Good."

"Now that we understand each other," Cordelia said, proceeding towards the kitchen to save her Beuf Bovignon from burning into something unrecognizable and definitely un-eatable, "why don't you tell me why you came. What is so important that couldn't wait until tomorrow?" She took the spoon to stir the sauce, not looking at the door, but sensing the movement announcing Angel's presence.

"Actually there are two things I wanted to tell you, and if you remember, it was you who were bitching this morning about not telling you the things a.s.a.p. So here I am."

He was leaning against the doorway now, almost casually, making her blood boil. She really liked Angel Reardon. She really did. Most of the time. But at certain times he could be the most infuriating, most annoying best friend of her soon-to-be husband. On the other hand he was also the best cop she could get for the job and so she swallowed an angry retort, took another calming breath, "I guess I have to accept that," she replied slowly.

He actually had the guts to grin at that. Of all the annoying guys in the world... "I know how difficult this was for you," he said then, surprising her completely. "And I apologize for it. But coming back to the more important subject-"

"Yes, that would be too nice," she retorted sarcastically.

He grinned again, exchanging a wink with Doyle, who was by now sitting on the sofa, sipping at a glass of obviously nice Brandy, still enjoying the exchange, tremendously. "Well, first off, Spike called. Darla met her sister Diana twice today," he told her, "something that's strange enough, but Spike swore that the second time an envelope was exchanged."

Cordelia put the spoon aside, turned to the fridge and holding a cup of cream in her hand looked at him, "Hmm. Interesting. Any ideas what was inside the envelope?"

"None," Angel replied. "But it wasn't money," he added. "Spike is absolutely positive about it and he's the best cop I know."

"Besides you, of course," she remarked, smirking, then poured the cream into her sauce.

"Thanks for the compliment," he said, grinning, but was serious again in an instant, when he continued, "I was following Simone Chambers. I got a phone call late this morning and so used the opportunity to check her out. Turns out that she has some very interesting... acquaintances."

Cordelia turned her head and raised her brow again, "Oh?"

"Oh, yes," he retorted. "She disappeared into a building in West Hollywood and you have three guesses who arrived there just ten minutes later and then stayed with her inside of the house for about an hour."

"I never liked guessing games, Angel. So just tell me."

"Riley Finn."

The spoon she'd just picked up to stir her sauce clattered to the floor, her gaze flew around to him, and from the corner of his eye Angel could see that Doyle had left his spot on the sofa as well and was now joining his fiancée and friend in the kitchen. "Say that again," he demanded, not sure he had heard correctly.

"Riley Finn," Angel repeated, uncrossing his arms and bending down to pick up the spoon. Placing it in the sink, he looked back at Cordelia. "And do you want to hear something even more interesting? When they came out, they were arguing, heavily. I've seen angry women, and I can tell you this woman hates Riley Finn, but the really disturbing part is, that I could swear she looked remarkably like someone who just had sex with him."

Part 11

Friday, August 25th, 7.00 a.m., Los Angeles

Buffy leaned against the counter in her kitchen and looked out of the window onto the street beneath her. Los Angeles was already busy, even this early. It was Friday and life started early because people wanted to leave their offices as early as possible to start their weekend.

Weekend.

It once meant a time to relax, to enjoy spending time with the people she loved, for family and friends. But not anymore. First of all there wasn't any family left and her friends... Well, they were all married now or going to be soon and for quite some time the feeling of loneliness had increased on weekends.

Maybe it was because she'd finally hit the big 3-0. Or maybe it was just that she couldn't remember the last time she had had fun. No, that wasn't fair. She had fun, sometimes, when one of her friends choose to save her from herself and dragged her out of her apartment. She would laugh and joke with them, but deep inside the emptiness wouldn't leave.

Empty. Yes, she felt empty and exhausted. Not physically. Physically she was perfectly fit, she was working out three times a week, ran every other day for about an hour after work. It came in handy if you had to chase down a suspect. Last week she'd outrun a thief and she was extremely satisfied that she hadn't even broken a sweat.

Yes, physically she was fine. Her mental state was an entirely different matter. But maybe she earned it. Earned it for wasting her one chance for happiness, for love. Maybe if she'd been stronger, not been so devastated by her brother's death, she wouldn't have listened to Riley. God, “if” was the worst word in the world.

Willow believed there was a chance she and Angel could get together again. But she had no idea, not the slightest idea what her best friend had done. Yes, Buffy had told the redhead that she'd sent Angel away, but she didn't know the hurtful words Buffy had said. The blond, on the other hand, remembered them all to well...

##Buffy frowned at the face in the mirror. It was a pretty face, flawless almost, a woman, she even smiled but her eyes were strangely dead. They were hazel like hers. Over all, the woman looked familiar, but somehow Buffy wasn't able to find herself in the reflection.

In a few minutes she would marry Riley Finn. She would be Riley Finn's wife. She would make a vow to love him, to honor him, to be with him until they both died. It was exactly what she wanted. She loved Riley. Didn't she?

God, her mind was so muddled, nothing made sense anymore. Nothing was real since that terrible day that had cost the life of the only relative she had left. Just yesterday Riley had kissed her and told her that in only 24 hours she would have a brand new family. His family. Their family, he'd said. It sounded so good, then why didn't it warm her heart? Why didn't it warm her soul?

She was interrupted in her thoughts when the door opened. She knew it wasn’t Cordelia because she had refused to come at all. But she thought it was Willow coming to check on her for the last time, so she didn't look up and inserted her second earring instead. "I'll be ready soon, Will, don't worry," she said.

"I'd rather you not be ready at all or at least for another man."

Buffy wasn't sure if her heart had stopped beating that very moment, but she was having a problem breathing.

His voice was very soft, when he added, "You look beautiful, Buffy. Like I always imagined you would look on your wedding day." He didn't come any closer, just stayed near the door, looking at her, watching her.

"Angel," she managed to acknowledge his presence. He was the last person she expected to be here, but maybe she should have. He'd tried to talk to her again and again during the past couple weeks. She'd refused to see him. And now here he was. She didn't want to see him, didn't want to talk to him. She could only think about an evening six weeks ago when all her hopes had been shattered with a single shot that went through her brother’s heart. "What a surprise," she said finally, her voice sounding strange, even to herself. It wasn't the warm sound she was used to; it was cold, lifeless, without emotion.

"Is it really?" he asked, taking one tentative step towards her. "A surprise? You really thought I would just stand by and let you marry him? Watch you make the biggest mistake of your life? You don't know me very well then."

"Yes, that's true," she replied, standing up slowly. "I don't know you very well."

"But you do," he said, taking another step, "Don't you remember, Buffy?" he asked, "Did you forget all the time we spent together? All the times, we loved each other, touched-"

"That isn't important anymore," she cut him off, turning and staring at him through cold eyes. "Whatever was between us, died with Mike. It died the day you decided to end his life."

It was almost a physical blow and Angel actually had to draw a sharp breath, fighting against a sudden tightness in his throat, a nausea that threatened to consume him. She could see how hard he fought for control and it gave her some sort of twisted pleasure. She wanted him to suffer. The way she suffered. He could burn in hell for all she cared, Mike was dead and he wasn't.

"Not important, huh?" he said, his voice hoarse. "Well, it is for me. I love you Buffy. You really think I would harm a person you love? You really think I would kill Mike? I wouldn't have been able to harm him. He was your brother and I liked him. He was fun. But even if I hadn't, the fact that you loved him..." he ran a hand through his hair, "Do you really think I'm capable of killing someone? Anyone?"

She made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a laugh, "As I already told you. I don't know you. I have no idea what you're capable of. And as far as I'm concerned you can just leave. I don't want to listen to you any longer. In a few minutes I'm going to be married."

That was another blow. He flinched, and only six weeks ago the pain in his eyes would've made her weep. Not anymore though. There was no pity left inside of her, there was nothing inside of her. She was a walking shell. Going through life on autopilot.

"To the wrong man," he replied, managing to stay calm. She could see how hard he was struggling. "You're not in love with Riley. You love me."

He had no idea, she thought. Love? What was love? A sudden panic took hold of her for a moment. In a few minutes she was going to marry. A man she was supposed to love. Did she really love him? Did she even care? Fortunately she had herself under control again, "Oh really?" she raised a cool eyebrow at him. "And you're the expert, aren't you? Well, let me tell you that I *am* in love with Riley. Actually Riley just showed me real love."

This time he had to blink. The moistness in his eyes came instantly and without warning. "Real love?" he echoed incredulously.

"Oh yes. Love. He loves me. With all his heart," she said without mercy, enjoying the tightening of his lips, the way his jaw locked. Then she took aim for her next blow, wanting to hurt him even more, "And you know. I thought I knew all about making love. I was wrong. Riley was able to show me another dimension."

He turned away. Swiftly. Violently. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides. Six weeks ago, she would've reached out and apologized for hurting him, for being so cruel. But the Buffy of six weeks ago was dead, died when she read that the weapon that killed her brother had been Angel's. The new Buffy however still wasn't satisfied, "And I love him. I love him in a way I didn’t think I was able to love. Everything before it pales in comparison."

He didn't turn to her again. He just walked to the door, opened it, and paused for a moment. "Good luck then," he whispered, his voice broken, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Then he walked out of the room and out of her life.##

That had been four years ago, but to Buffy it felt as if it happened yesterday. Tears were running down her cheeks and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. God, she wanted to run to him and plead for forgiveness, tell him that she hadn't meant a single word. That she didn't blame him and that she loved him and...

Her breath caught in her throat and she closed her eyes for a moment against the revelation the memory had brought with it. There was no way she could lie to herself any longer. She loved Angel Reardon. Still loved him. It also implied that she'd never stopped loving him. That was the simple truth. Riley had sensed it, although Buffy had tried so hard to keep it locked up in some safe place, not visible to anyone.

At first her marriage with Riley had been okay. They had laughed together, spent time together. She had genuinely liked him even if she couldn’t return the love he told her he felt. But after a while it had changed. Buffy wasn't quite sure how it had happened. Riley had changed or maybe she'd just woken up and finally realized she was living a lie.

And still she had tried. You just didn't throw a marriage away, even if it was a mistake. So she had tried, again and again. Had even overlooked Riley's infidelity at first. She even believed it was her fault because she couldn't return his love. Then Cordelia had visited her one evening, another evening when Riley had called and told her he was working late on a difficult case. A lie of course.

Cordelia had told her what she thought of her so-called marriage and of Riley and the mess her life had become. And after a week of thinking about it, Buffy had come to the conclusion that her friend was right. So the next Sunday she'd confronted Riley, hoped against reason that they would find a solution, to save their friendship if not their marriage.

And he went berserk. She'd never seen him like this. He just lost it. First he shouted, taunted and accused her of not being able to love him. When she hadn't been able to deny it, he hit her. Once, twice and then again. In the end he'd just looked at her and the way she was lying on the ground, one eye already swelling, blood trickling from her lip. "You're a whore," he'd said. "Nothing but a cheap whore. I know lots of them, you know, but you're the worst. Nobody would ever pay for your service. You're a pathetic lover. Frankly, I don't know what Angel ever saw in you."

"I'm going to file for a divorce," she'd told him, wiping the blood from her lips but not standing up. "Tomorrow I'm going to contact a lawyer."

He just shrugged and took his coat from the hook, "Do as you please," then he stopped and turned to her, his smile cruel, "Oh and while you're at it. I had lots of contacts with women during the last two years. You understand," he winked, making it very clear what sort of contact he was talking about, "Maybe you should see a doctor too. About infective diseases, you know." With another wink he was gone and Buffy had struggled to get on her feet, then ran to the bathroom where she emptied her stomach, feeling sick in a way she'd never felt before.

God, she'd been such a fool, she thought, her sightless eyes still directed towards the street. It could have been so different if she hadn't freaked after Mike's death, if she'd been able to believe Angel's words at the inquiry, or Drusilla and Faith who had sworn he hadn't used his weapon that evening. But it wasn’t any different and now she was paying the price for her stupidity. Had been paying it for four years.

A sob tore from her throat and she wrapped her arms around herself, wishing it were Angel's arms that were holding her the way they did a few days ago. Wishing he would talk to her, tell her he forgave her, that he still loved her.

She startled when the phone suddenly rang. Pulling herself together she reached for it, "Yes?"

"Hi, Buffy," came a cheerful voice from the other end of the line.

"Faith?" the blond asked incredulously.

"Yeah, it's me. Are you busy tonight? Because if not, would you like to have a drink with me at the Splash after work."

"A drink with you?" Buffy had the feeling she was suddenly living in a dream world. The relationship between her and Faith was strained at best.

"Yes, that's what I said. Look, now that you dumped the ass- I mean Riley, don't you think there's a way we could bury our... uh... problems? I'm not expecting you to be my bestest bud after all this, but what about a peaceful co-existence. Hey if Americans and Russians can manage..." she joked, trailing off.

The blond thought about it for a moment, and then decided, the brunette was right. Their problems had mainly centered around Riley and there was no way she would allow her husband to rule her life any longer. "Sure," she said, "Why not. At the Splash, after work. I'll be there."

"Good," Faith replied. "See you then. And Buffy, thanks for not just hanging up on me."

Replacing the receiver, Buffy stared at it for a moment. Spending an evening with Faith at the Splash? Well, still better than spending it alone at her apartment. Better than just hoping for a dream that might never come true.

****

Faith pressed the red button of her cellular phone and slowly turned around.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" she said, grinning.

"Arrrgh," Willow threw her hands in the air, "What did she say? Is she coming?"

"Yep."

The redhead's eyes lightened up, "Good," she beamed. "Now all we have to do, is to get Angel there as well."

Faith smirked and patted Willow's shoulder, "That, girlfriend, is your problem. I've done my part."

Part 12

Same day, 11.00 a.m.

"I'd really like to know what they're talking about."

Riley looked up to find Darla sitting at the edge of his desk, her face directed towards Giles' office where the lieutenant was sitting and obviously listening to Angel and Spike, the former pacing in agitated steps, gesturing from time to time. Riley gave Darla a look, then shrugged.

"Can you imagine what's going on in there?" she asked, not able to take her eyes from Angel Reardon, the embodiment of her secret, or not so secret, fantasies.

"No," Riley replied, slowly getting annoyed with her. The last thing he wanted to think about was his so-called former best friend. Involuntarily his eyes darted to Buffy's desk, but in not seeing her there he remembered that she and Xander had left early to check out new information for a case they were working on.

"I would really like to know. Giles doesn't look happy, that's for sure."

Riley was about to retort something not very nice when Kate joined them, "Who doesn't look happy?" she asked.

"Giles," Darla replied, "He looks as if he's eaten something he can't digest."

"Oh," Kate's eyes were wide and now she was staring at Giles' office as well.

"Look," Riley said, pointing at the file on his desk, "I have work to do here. I'm not interested in what's going on in there." It was an outright lie of course. He would have given a month's salary to know what they were discussing. Then he snickered, "Maybe our New York cops have already fallen out of Giles' good graces."

"Yeah, yeah, for all you care he could go to hell, we know," Darla said, "but fortunately nobody here is interested in your opinion." She stood and exchanged a glance with her partner. Kate nodded and the two women returned to their own desk.

Riley's eyes followed them. There was no doubt that Darla still had the hots for Angel. Riley remembered everything that had happened between them all those years ago. Angel had still trusted him then, and told him all the gory details, including the way Darla had been clinging to him. It was pathetic. Darla was pathetic in her feelings for the dark-haired man. She had to be about 10 years older than Angel.

Riley snorted in disgust and looked back at Giles' office. No, Angel certainly wouldn't be interested in the blond detective, but you never knew when some information you knew came in handy. With a satisfied smile he continued reading the files.

*

Angel stopped his pacing for a moment to look at Giles, "I have the feeling there’s a lot more to this case than we've ever dreamed of."

"Dream?" Giles shook his head and sighed deeply, "I'd call it a nightmare. I can still hardly believe what you've been telling me. Diana Massey, Darla Massey and then Riley Finn with Simone Chambers," he shook his head again. He hated this, had hated it from the beginning but with each day he hated it even more. One dirty cop was already enough in his eyes, but now it looked as if there could be several.

"Here’s something none of us have thought about so far," Spike said, studying his hands thoughtfully, then he looked up and straight into Giles' eyes, "Who says that the case is connected to them? It’s possible neither of them has anything to do with what we're looking for. I mean, who says that Darla and her sister are up to something at all? Or that Simone doesn't just want to have one final fling before Mike puts the ring on her finger."

"Believe me, Simone didn't look as if she enjoyed her hour with Riley. She looked ready to kill him. I've seen rage in women's eyes and Simone was certainly raging," Angel replied, sitting down beside his partner.

"And you're sure you're not making more of it than there is?" Giles asked tentatively.

"Making more of it?" Angel raised a brow, understanding dawning in his eyes, "I see, because Riley and I had - have - several issues, I’d want to nail his ass?" he asked, his voice uncommonly soft. Spike knew what it meant. His friend was walking on the edge and he was close to exploding. As he'd expected Angel's eyes narrowed, "Believe it or not," he said, "I want to know who the dirty cop is but I'd rather not see Riley hang for it. Issues or not, we go way back and the idea of arresting him," he exhaled sharply and shook his head, "It's like arresting my brother."

"Yes, I understand," Giles replied slowly, and nodded, "But you are aware that Riley might be the one we're looking for."

"Yeah," the dark-haired man nodded too, "I realize that. And there is a part of me that wants him punished for all the things he did to Buffy and me. For the way he treated her, but then I think back about other times, better times and..." he shook his head again, "I never thought this would be so hard."

Spike and Giles exchanged a short understanding look, then the Lieutenant said, "So what we know is that there is a connection between Darla and Diana Massey and probably even to David Griffin. And we also know that Riley and Simone Chambers know each other, we even," he gazed at Angel, then continued, "are able to assume they sleep with each other, whatever the reasons may be. Anything else?"

"No," Angel replied. "But we do have a problem. I'm not quite sure if we can keep this up with only two detectives. There are simply too many suspects running around." He paused and looked at the other two men in the room, "How about two more to help us?"

Giles straightened in his chair, "I'm not sure it's possible. I mean, who should we choose?" he gestured towards the outer office where the other detectives were busy writing reports, reading files or were absent because they were investigating a case. "They're all suspects."

"He's right and you know it," Spike commented, looking at Angel. "But you’re right too," he admitted. "It's just not possible to observe everyone with there being just the two of us. Maybe we should talk to the lovely Miss Chase about our little problem," he suggested with a grin. Cordelia Chase was some cocky woman for sure and he might’ve even looked twice if she wasn't already engaged and obviously very much in love. Also, if he hadn't already found his own object of admiration, he mused, his eyes drifting to Drusilla who was engaged in a conversation with Riley Finn. Damn the man, Spike thought, a sharp stab of jealousy surging through him. Not that he thought Drusilla would fall for the loser, but he deeply disliked the blond detective and the idea of his love interested being connected to him - in any way - was nothing he liked to see.

"I already did," Angel, informed the other men, "We talked about the problem last night when I went to see her. She agreed that we can't do it on our own and promised to talk to her boss about it. She's going to call me as soon as she has news."

"I see," Giles nodded thoughtfully. "I'm going to think about it too."

"Thanks," Angel replied standing up. Spike did the same and turned towards the door when it suddenly opened and Willow entered, "Oh," she made a startled sound. She'd been deep in thoughts and not really looking.

"Detective Osborne," Giles smiled at her, "is there anything I can do for you?" he asked, then turned to Angel and Spike again, "We're done for now?"

"Yes, we are," Angel said, and then remembered something, "See you later at the Splash, Lieutenant."

"The Splash?" Giles asked confused.

"Yeah, you know. Because of the celebration."

"The... what?" the older man still didn't get it, then he saw Willow gesturing wildly behind Angel's back, signing with her hands. "Oh, the celebration, of course," he exclaimed and saw the redhead exhaling a relieved breath. "Yes, see you then."

Angel nodded, then turned, silently discussing if Giles was already old enough to start forgetting things easily.

As soon as the door was closed, the Lieutenant raised an inquiring brow at Willow, "And now, Detective Osborne, I would really like to know what this was all about," he demanded.

*****

"Don't you think you’ve tortured us enough already?" the beautiful young woman sniffed, drying her eyes with a handkerchief of white silk. "We answered your questions again and again, Detective Summers." She directed her gaze at Xander and sent him a look pleading for help and understanding.

He suppressed a grin and cleared his throat, "I know Miss Philips," he said, liking the bad-cop-good-cop-routine, especially when he was the good guy for a change, "how hard this is for you. Your mother was killed-"

"She was murdered," Sarah Philips interrupted him, her voice so laced with pain that he was almost tempted to believe her. Almost. But he saw her shouting at her mother's husband, at her sisters and raging when her dead mother's attorney had announced the will that left almost the whole estate to her husband.

"She certainly was," Xander said gently, "And that's the reason we have to do this. To find out who killed her."

"What's there to find out?" she argued, her eyes suddenly clear and dry, her mother instantly forgotten, "We already know who killed her. The one who blinded her with passion, who made her believe that he loved her. We tried to open her eyes, but she wouldn't listen. And he killed her." The tears were back now.

It wasn't the first case of this kind Buffy had seen. In L.A. younger husbands, who inherited wealth from older wives weren't that uncommon, what made this case so special was the fact that Aurelia Philips had three daughters from three different marriages. Aurelia Philips had been filthy rich, the money partly inherited from her father but also earned with her stunning career as a Hollywood actress. She'd been almost fifty but looked at least ten years younger.

For Buffy it wasn't hard to see why Cameron Graham had been attracted to her. He was an actor as well and they'd met during a film shoot three years ago and the newspapers had announced the love affair of the century. They were obviously in love with each other if you could trust the pictures Buffy had studied since the day she and Xander had been called when Aurelia's body was found with a fatal stab-wound through her heart.

Sure Cameron and Aurelia where top class actors and certainly able to fake their feelings for the cameras, but Buffy had met the widower and to her there was no doubt that he had been in love with his late wife. He'd always seemed so full of life in his films, but now there was just emptiness in his eyes and bone-deep grief. She could relate, she felt the same four years ago.

"We know nothing of the kind," she said now, looking at Sarah Philips, "*You* assume it might have been your... Mr. Graham. But he swears he didn't do it and I'm tempted to believe him."

"Of course you are," she snorted, her pretty face contorting in disgust. "They all do. They all fall for him, for his good looks, his blue eyes. My mother did too. She was a fool like all of them."

"All of them?" Buffy raised a brow, "Does that include you, Miss Philips?"

"You... you," she sprang on her feet, her eyes blazing, "you are... disgusting," she sputtered, her body trembling with rage. "To imply that I lusted after my mother' husband!"

"I didn't imply anything," Buffy replied mildly, "I just, asked a question. You said all women are falling for him and I was interested if that included you. So," she said, crossing her arms, "Does it include you?"

"No, of course not," Sarah Philips retorted, slowly calming down. "I never would've betrayed my mother. I never tried to steal her husband."

"Implying you could," Buffy muttered, then said loudly, "That's not what I asked. I wanted to know if you were... interested in Cameron Graham."

Sarah's eyes narrowed slightly, but this time she had her temper in check, "I won't deny that I thought him attractive. Hell, the world sees him as a sex symbol. I'm female - I'm not completely immune to his charms either. But I never tried anything."

"We believe you," Xander said gently, smiling at her, satisfied when he saw her smiling back. She trusted him. A good sign. "But we still need to have answers to some questions. So would you give us five more minutes of your time?"

"Alright," she replied, giving Buffy a nasty look, "I think five minutes won't hurt."

*

"God, what a bitch," Buffy said when they finally left the Philips estate half an hour later. "She certainly is an argument for birth control."

Xander laughed and patted her shoulder, "Don't exaggerate. She isn't that bad."

"Not that bad?" the blond stopped in her strides and stared at him as if he'd grown a second head, "She's worse, Xander. She lies, she tries to manipulate you, and she’s a mother's nightmare. And on top of it she's spoiled rotten. She never learned how to lose. An explosive combination."

"I still can't see her shoving a knife into her mother's chest in cold blood," he argued.

"Well, maybe not in cold blood," Buffy replied and continued to walk towards their car. "But what if Mom told her little daughter about the changes in her will. I'm sure it would've caused hot blood."

"We don't know that. You're just assuming things," Xander said.

"And you let yourself impress by that huge-eyed tortured look."

"No, I didn't," he grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him, "I know exactly what kind of woman she is, Buffy. I'm 34 years old, I have a wife and child at home, whom I love and I have more than ten years of experience as a cop. I'm not some fool who falls for a pretty face."

She looked at him for a long moment, then sighed, "I know. I'm sorry, Xander. I didn't want to imply you... well, you know."

"Yeah," he grinned. Starting to walk again, he asked, "The divorce getting to you, huh?"

"That and... other things."

"Those other things being tall, dark, and handsome?"

She sighed again, Xander knew her far too well, "Yeah," she admitted. "God, it's so hard being near him again. I hurt him, Xander. I really hurt him four years ago. And I have no idea how to apologize, I'm not sure there *is* a way to apologize at all. Not after what I've done."

They reached the car but Xander didn't climb in. He stood by his door, his arms propped on the roof, he looked at her, "There is always a way to say you’re sorry, Buffy," he smiled slightly, "Just go and do it."

"I wish it was that easy," she replied, her own smile incredibly sad.

"Maybe it's easier than you think," he said. "Maybe you're in for a big surprise if you just jump in and try."

Part 13

Same day, 09:00 p.m.

Angel cursed as he switched off the ignition and got out of his parked car. A celebration at the Splash, Willow had told him. They were holding a celebration tonight at the club and there was no way he could stay away. First he hadn't quite known what to think of it, but then Faith had said the same and so here he was. Tired, hungry and not feeling very communicative. Well, maybe he could just drink a glass of something and then quietly disappear.

All he wanted was to slump down in front of the television and zone out for a while. He'd been following Riley all afternoon, all around Los Angeles. That really had been fun, while Spike had been off chasing Darla again and met again with her sister. Riley hadn't seen Simone this afternoon, but besides investigating in a case of a murdered bar-owner, he met an interesting bunch of people. Angel wasn't sure what it meant, but it was more than just slightly suspicious.

Groaning, he realized he probably would see Riley soon. God, just what he needed tonight. He opened the door and looked around. To his surprise he didn't see the faces he'd expected. Yes, there were officers, some of them he even remembered but there was nobody... He froze when his eyes fell on a blond head. Buffy was sitting at a table, playing with the straw in her drink, looking into space.

Of course Angel had known he'd see her tonight, but that had been assuming that all their colleagues’d surround them. On the other hand, they had already talked to each other, and they were working with each other. Besides he could still hear Cordelia's words that Buffy didn't blame him anymore. If it could be true... "Hi," he said, looking down at her.

Her head jerked up, her eyes widened, and her voice sounded a bit breathless when she replied, "Hi."

"Guess you’re the first one here," he remarked.

"Huh?" she asked confusion clearly visible on her features.

"For the celebration," he clarified. "It seems you are the first."

Instead of lessening her confusion intensified, "Celebration?"

Angel's brows drew together, "You don't know about it? Willow said there was some sort of celebration tonight at... or was it... no," he nodded more to himself, "it was tonight. I'm sure of it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. What celebration?" Buffy asked, "What was there to celebrate?"

He made a helpless gesture with one hand, "I have no idea. But Willow insisted I come. And Giles even-," he broke off, when it hit him. "They set us up," he exclaimed.

"I beg your pardon?" Buffy raised her brows; she still wasn't able to understand what was going on.

"Willow set us up," he repeated. "She told me to come here for some kind of celebration. What did she say to you?"

The blond shook her head, "Nothing. As a matter of fact Willow didn't say... oh wait," she said suddenly, realization in her eyes, "Faith called me. This morning. She said she wanted to meet me. Reconcile and stuff." She slammed her palm against the table, "I should've known it. Faith was never a morning person and all of a sudden she calls me at seven in the morning. Oh, this traitorous bitch, this lying-"

"I'm sure she meant well," he interrupted her raging.

"What?"

"I'm sure they meant well. Maybe it was their way of trying to get us together," he said. Did she have any idea how beautiful she looked, her eyes blazing with anger, he wondered.

His words hadn't the effect he'd hoped, instead of smiling, she seemed to get even more angry, "Well, huh?" she spat and Angel winced at the sound of her voice. Maybe angry wasn't quite the right word. Too soft. "I'll give them well," she stood and combed a hand through her hair, "They have no idea what they're doing. They don't know what we need. They have no right," she paused for a moment, obviously suddenly realizing her tone. She sighed and held out her hands, palms up, "I mean, what are they hoping to accomplish, I'm asking you."

"I don't know," he replied quietly, "Maybe they just want us to talk?"

"Talk?" she spat the word as if it was something completely foreign to her, "What should we talk about? I'm sure you aren't even interested in talking to me."

"Whoa," he exclaimed, holding his hands up. "I never said that."

Her brows drew together in confusion as she stared at him. "So you would?" she asked, her voice back to normal, but holding a trace of surprise. "Talk to me, I mean?"

"Well," he shrugged, and then looked pointedly at the table. Why did she think he didn't want to talk to her? Was it because of his visit to her apartment the other day? He already regretted ever having gone there. That morning it had seemed the wisest idea to clear the air between them and allow them to work together. In the face of Cordelia's words about Buffy's feelings towards him he wasn't so sure anymore.

She followed the direction of his eyes and instantly understood, "Oh, well, if you want to sit down," she invited, nervously wiping her hands at her trousers. "After all I came to talk to someone who'd once been my friend. To make things better. Now it seems I'm still going to do that, just that it's you and not Faith. So... do you... want to sit down?"

"I'd like that," he replied softly, giving her one of his half-smiles. "I'd like that very much." Molly, the waitress, appeared and took his order, then left again. Angel frowned not quite sure how to begin and caught her chewing at her lower lip, her hands hidden under the table, but from the movements of her arms he could guess she was nervously playing with them. She was staring at her glass of white wine, avoiding his eyes and he wondered what she expected him to do.

"Nothing, I expect nothing," she said quietly, still not looking at him.

A little bit embarrassed Angel realized that he'd thought aloud. His smile was sad when he said, "No, I suppose you wouldn't."

She made a little sound of protest and shook her head, one of her hands playing with her straw now, "No that's not... I mean, I didn't mean that. I mean," she let out an exasperated breath clearly annoyed with herself and finally raised her head to look at him, "I'm sorry. That came out wrong. I didn't mean to imply that there was nothing to be expected of you. I just wanted to say that after... after," she shrugged, remembering Xander's words from just before, "well, after what I did to you, I wouldn't be surprised if you'd like to pretend I didn't exist at all."

"That," he replied, nodding at the waitress who brought his drink, "would be absolutely impossible. First of all you’re sitting right in front of me and then," he paused to sip from his glass, "it would be hard to overlook someone as beautiful as you are."

Buffy felt a wild flutter in her heart at that and blushed instantly, "Oh," she made, not sure how to react. "You... you think I'm beautiful?" Oh great, Buffy, now he thinks you're completely shallow and just fishing for compliments.

"I always thought that and you know it," he said, the sadness gone from his smile. "You were always the most beautiful woman in the world to me."

Her blush deepened and the flutter increased to a frantic beating. If he didn't stop she would soon embarrass herself. "Well... uh... thanks," she smiled, and then again bit her lower lip. "You look... good too. More... uh... mature."

He grimaced at that, "Older, you mean?"

"No," she protested, "I mean, of course you are older-"

"Thanks," he joked.

"But so am I," she continued, ignoring his interruption. "I'm thirty after all."

"Who would've guessed?" he winked at her, "You look barely older than 20." He was shocked that she didn't laugh at that but that suddenly tears welled up in her eyes and she was blinking rapidly. "Hey," he said softly, wanting to reach out and touch her hand, but not daring to. "What is it?"

"You..." she sniffed, "are flirting with me."

His smile widened, "Yeah, and?"

"You are... How can you flirt with me after... after what I've done to you?" she asked, covering her quivering mouth with one hand. "After all the horrible things I said, after... after... and then I went and married Riley?"

The smile instantly vanished from his face, "Buffy, about Riley-"

"No," she held up a hand, "You don't have to tell me. I’ll..." she took a deep breath, "I will never forgive myself for behaving like I did that afternoon at my wedding, when you came and... God, I was such a bitch."

"Buffy, you were hurt. You just lost your brother. You thought..." his voice faltered slightly, but he had it under control in an instant, "You thought I killed him. What you did... It's not difficult to understand."

"So you... you..." she was a loss for words.

"I, what?" he asked, reaching out tentatively and covering her trembling hand with his. "What?" he urged.

"But you came, to my apartment and you said... that you didn't care anymore what happened four years ago. That whatever happened between us was... you were so cool, so distant," she wiped her eyes with her free hand, glad that they were sitting in a dark corner of the club where nobody else could see her tears.

"Buffy, I thought you still held me responsible for Mike's death," he tried to explain. "I thought-"

"NO," her outcry was so shocked that some other guests turned to look into their direction. She lowered her voice, but Angel felt her hand turning and gripping his. A bolt of electricity shot through him at that, and warmth settled in his soul that had been missing for four long years, "No, I don't. I never did. Not really. I just wasn’t quite myself after it happened and I... When I finally woke up I found myself married to Riley."

"I know," he replied squeezing her hand gently, "Cordelia told me. It was... a shock for me to hear that, I’ll admit. All those years I thought you still thought I was responsible despite my words, despite Faith and Drusilla."

"Oh, Angel," she blinked more tears away, "I'm so sorry. If I could-"

"But we can't," he interrupted her. "We can’t turn back time and change things."

"I know," she whispered sadly. Of course she'd known it all along. It was too late. But that stupid little part had still hoped...

"We can only move forward," he went on, not letting go of her hand. He looked at her, saw her beautiful hazel eyes, her shimmering hair, remembered all the laughter and love they'd shared and then thought about the emptiness in his life and the feelings he'd tried to ignore. "And we could do it together if you want," then suddenly realizing what he'd said, he tried to amend, "Of course we don't have to rush, we could be friends to start, could go to see a movie, drink a cup of coffee-"

"Yes," she said, interrupting him, her eyes resting on him with an expression that looked like a mixture between hope and fear. More softly she added, "Yes, I'd like that." God, maybe Xander was right, maybe sorry wasn't so difficult after all. "And you can really forget what I said to you?"

"Forget?" he shook his head, "hardly. I’ll never forget what happened. But forgive? Yes. That I can do. Actually I already did that. As soon as I realized it wasn't really you who said the words. But of course it was too late. Cordelia said I should've fought harder, and maybe she’s right."

Buffy was about to reply when Molly appeared again to bring Angel's steak and Buffy's french-fries. They ate in silence, exchanging smiles from time to time, the blonde's eyes shining with something he'd missed before. They were still sad, but there was also life in them, and hope. Silently he thanked Faith and Willow for their meddling. This evening was the break-through, Angel was sure of that. Of course they had still a long way to go, but they had made peace after all.

He had no idea how Buffy felt about him. Sure, there was guilt, and she seemed genuinely glad that he didn't blame her for the words she'd said. The way she'd acted, but that didn't mean that she still had feelings for him, that she was interested in a relationship. After all she just ended her marriage and was probably not even looking for another man in her life. A picture of Riley flickered through his mind but Angel quickly pushed it away. No, he decided firmly, Riley wouldn't spoil this evening.

"You look so serious," she said, pulling him from his thoughts. "I can tell, because when you're brooding a sharp line appears between your brows. It's even more visible now that you've grown older," she said pointing to his forehead.

"Oh, thanks," he replied sarcastically, but a smile was playing around his mouth. He felt lightheaded all of a sudden. They were sitting together, eating, and talking together, God, they were even laughing together. After all the time they'd spent apart, after all that heartache it was almost unreal.

"Why did you come back to L.A.?" she asked suddenly."What?" the question had caught him off guard. He knew he couldn't tell her about Internal Affairs and hated that he had to keep a secret from her, especially now when there seemed a chance for something he'd already given up hoping. "Oh, L.A. Well, homesick I guess," he said, glad that it wasn't a complete lie. He had liked living in New York, but there hadn't been one day when he hadn't missed L.A. or more specifically, Buffy. Maybe he would tell her that one day, but for the moment he kept it to himself.

"Uh-huh. I can understand that, I would miss L.A. if I had to move away," she smiled slightly, then nodded at his plate, "You ready?"

"What? Yes, yes, I'm ready. It's good food." He laughed suddenly, and when he saw her curious gaze, he explained, "I just realized I haven't been to Cara since I came back."

"You haven't?" she couldn't believe it, "I wouldn't be able to exist without her. Willow and I meet there at least once a week for lunch. It's like a tradition. Just last week we were talking that L.A. wouldn't be the same if Cara wasn't there anymore."

"How is she?" Angel asked affectionately. He had always liked the owner of Kinks and Drinks, and he remembered a special evening, when she'd sat with him, listened to his grief and hurt, maybe prevented him from doing something stupid.

"Fine," Buffy replied grinning. It lit up her whole face and want slammed into Angel's gut with a force that made him suddenly breathless. "You know Cara. Nothing can stop her. She's still in love with her lump of a husband and he simply adores her. Her clothes are still 'kinky' she insists and we all love her."

They laughed together at that and the blond felt like flying at the feeling that began to spread through her whole being. It had been so cold those last four years without him and now the warmth was coming back. He didn't blame her anymore, she could hardly believe it, and he was laughing with her, had held her hand. She felt like climbing the highest mountain and shouting it to the world.

"Shall we go?" he asked after a moment, checking his watch, to his surprise it was already 11.00 p.m.

"Sure," she agreed, trying to protest when he placed several bills on the table, but he just shook his head and so she gave him a thankful nod.

Leaving the club the night-air was a welcome change from the sticking atmosphere inside. "Where did you park your car?" Angel asked, looking around.

"Just over there," she pointed at a small Toyota Riley had given her three months after their wedding. "The green one." She'd thought about getting rid of it, but there wasn't enough money at the moment to replace it. So she swallowed her pride and was still using Riley's gift.

"Let me walk you," he offered and then started towards it without waiting for her answer. She smiled and followed, enjoying being near him like this. Please, please let this work, she prayed to whatever god was listening.

They reached the driver's side of the car and she turned to say goodbye, when his large body suddenly held her prisoner between him and the car. "Angel," she said startled because of the unexpected closeness. Her heart beat a mile a minute, feeling him so close to her, her breath caught in her throat and it was as if armies of ants were running through her gut.

"Do you know that when I returned to L.A. I vowed that I wouldn't fall for you again?" he whispered, leaning closer. "I thought I could do it," he chuckled slightly, "I actually thought I could stay away from you. But I should've known."

"What?" she whispered back, mesmerized by the intense expression in his eyes, the burning passion, they were usually brown but now they seemed almost black.

"That I couldn't resist you," he replied, his breath fluttering over her lips.

When his lips finally touched hers, she felt the shock all the way to her toes. The ripples of pleasure were so intense, that she moaned involuntarily against his mouth.

Angel's hands slid into her hair, combing through it, marveling in the feeling of pure silk running through his fingers. She was so soft, so warm, so perfectly suited to him. For years he had dreamed of this, of kissing her again, of her kissing him back, and finally his dream was becoming reality.

With gentle force he urged her lips apart, his tongue slipped between them, and she reflexively opened her mouth to it. It had been so long, but it felt so natural, so right. Buffy raised her hands to encircle his neck, to pull him even closer to her, then gave in to the hunger, taking all she could get, afraid he would stop, afraid she would maybe never feel like that again, so whole, so complete. She needed more, needed-

Involuntarily she made a strangled, helpless sound, overwhelmed by the feelings that were consuming her and Angel, understanding it wrong, ended the kiss and stepped back. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice shaken, his hands in her hair trembling. "I... I didn't mean...."

"No," she raised her hands and covered his that were now cupping her cheeks. "It's okay. I wanted it too."

Slowly pulling his hands back, he cleared his throat, "Maybe you should go home now," he suggested, shaken to the core by the intensity of his feelings. Had he actually believed he could live without her?

"Yes," she whispered, opening the door behind her back. "See you tomorrow," she breathed, reaching out she touched his arm a moment.He startled her when he put her hand in his and pulled it to his mouth, kissing it softly. "Yeah," he agreed, letting go of her hand again, "Tomorrow."

With a last smile she slid into her car, started the ignition and drove away.

Part 14

same day, 11.30 p.m.

With a happy smile on her face Buffy unlocked the door to her apartment, closed it afterwards and with a sigh leaned against it. She closed her eyes and could still feel Angel's lips, the taste of him, the way his breath had tickled her skin, and his hands running through her hair, massaging her skull.

She couldn't remember when she'd ever had felt so good before. No, that wasn't true, she remembered, but after four empty years she suddenly felt filled with warmth, with love, with hope and she thought she would burst from all the feelings tumbling inside of her. She'd been so depressed and utterly hopeless and now... Everything suddenly seemed possible again. All the things she'd thought were lost were again within her reach. And the feeling was so wonderful, that she began to hum a love song when she pushed herself away from the door and made her way towards the living room.

Still humming she switched the light on, turned and froze. The song died on her lips and the keys she'd been holding fell to the floor, sounding incredibly loud in the sudden silence.

After a moment she managed to make her voice work, but it still croaked when she said, "Wha..." she had to clear her throat first, "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I lived here for three and a half years," Riley replied shifting slightly on the seat he was occupying. He had pulled his legs underneath him and was watching her, then slowly held out his hand where a set of keys was dangling from his index finger. "And I still have the key," he added unnecessarily.

"So I see," she replied coolly, glad that she'd been able to regain her composure so quickly. "But you still haven't answered my question," she went on, throwing her jacket over the sofa, "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting my wife," he said, smirking at her.

Her only retort was the rising of one brow, "She isn't here," she said after a moment.

"Oh, but she is," he insisted, watching her walking to the bar and pouring herself a glass of soda. "And she looks very beautiful tonight."

Buffy closed her eyes for a moment, glad that he couldn't see her face, then pulling herself together she turned back to him, "Riley, please. Just leave. I have no idea what's going on in your head tonight, but I'm tired."

"Come on," he said and put his keys on the table, "Tomorrow is Saturday. You can sleep in. Don't you have ten minutes for your loving husband?"

"Riley," she sighed heavily and shook her head. "What's wrong with you?"

"What’s wrong with me?" he echoed. His expression changed that moment, gone was the smirk, the lightness of his voice, and it was replaced by anger, even hatred, "Well, maybe I thought I at least deserve the same treatment as your lover," he spat the last word, as if its taste was poisoning his mouth.

"My what?" Buffy asked honestly surprised by his accusation.

"Your lover," he repeated. "Is he good?" he asked, finally standing up, "Does he satisfy you?"

"Excuse me?" she crossed her arms in front of her chest, but her eyes never wavered. "*What* are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about? Well, I'll tell you what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the fact that I saw you, in front of the Splash, your lips locked with Angel's."

Too stunned by his words, by the fact that he'd obviously been watching them, she couldn't find the words this would have demanded. She could only stare at him.

"What?" he taunted, "no excuses?" he asked, stepping closer, "I already told you, you were a whore, Buffy, and you are, you certainly are."

Finding her voice again, she hissed, "Get out, get the hell out of my apartment."

"Oh, no, my lovely wife," he replied, coming even closer, his whole body language openly threatening, "And that's what you are. My wife. My oh so loving, adulteress, cheating wife," he said, emphasizing each insult by punching his right fist into his left palm.

Oh no, she would not be frightened by his aggressive posture, she would not back away and beg him to leave her alone. She suppressed the fear rising in her in remembering the way he'd beaten her before he'd left the apartment, what she'd thought had been for good. "Only for another three weeks," she said, glad her voice was sounding cool and controlled, "After that a judge will end what shouldn't have begun and then you can go to hell for all I care."

The moment the words left her mouth she knew it had been the wrong thing to say. In a flash he was right in front of her, his arms coming to encase her between the bar and his body. Angel had done almost the same thing only minutes ago, but it had been with care, his eyes passionate while Riley's were blazing with rage, his hands gripping the edge of the counter so tight that his knuckles went white.

Now being so near to him, Buffy could smell the alcohol in his breath, saw the heightened color in his cheeks, partly from anger, but partly caused by too much whiskey, his favorite drink these days. Hoping that he wouldn't realize that her hands were shaking, she looked straight in his eyes that, as she knew now, were not completely sober "Get out," she demanded.

He laughed at that, a sound that made the hairs in her neck stand up straight and fear sent shivers down her spine. "Oh no," he replied, "First I want to have what you so willingly gave to him," he said and without warning his mouth took possession of hers, with bruising strength he forced her lips apart, making her nauseous with the smell of his breath, his tongue invading her deep, while his hands and arms were pressing her close, holding her so tight that she had no chance to push him away.

The fear was dominant now, with images of raped women springing to her mind, beaten wives, crying in her arms, with empty, hopeless eyes, abused by their boyfriends or husbands, treated as if they were objects, not human beings. God, please no, she prayed silently. No, please don't let him do this. And suddenly there was Angel's face, smiling at her, laughing, she thought about his lips on hers. And rage suddenly pushed the fear away, rage that she was letting Riley do this to her, that she allowed him to taint this evening that held so much hope.

With all her strength she managed to get her hands between their bodies and pushed his much larger and heavier body away. Maybe because he wasn't expecting it or maybe because of the alcohol he stumbled back a step, "NO," she shouted. "Get away from me," she said, wiping her mouth, hoping against hope to wipe him away, his taste, the feeling of his invasion, "Get out of my apartment."

"Oh, come on," he had the guts to grin, "you liked it, admit it. I'm sure he didn't kiss you that way."

"No, he didn't. I enjoyed kissing him," she shouted, trembling with rage and fear, hating Riley in a way she'd never hated him before. "How can you dare to force yourself on me?"

"Because you vowed that you'd worship me with your body," he declared, imitating the priest's voice. "God, you were lying like the best of them. We might be divorced in three weeks, but by God today you will be my wife."

Without another warning he grabbed her. She hadn't expected him to move so quickly with all the booze in his blood, but obviously she'd been wrong. Ignoring her outcry he pushed her to the ground and was over her the next second, pulling at her clothes, his ragged breathing in her ears, she could feel the evidence of what he was planning to do to her pressed against her thigh.

He's going to rape me, Buffy thought desperately, oh God he's actually going to rape me. The rage gone again, the fear was back. And he could see it, she thought, he could see it in her eyes, and he was laughing at her fear, enjoying the feeling of power and control. What had she been told at the Police Academy? Rape is no sex crime it's about showing power. And they were right, she thought, while Riley was busy ripping her blouse into shreds, grabbing her bra and ripped it apart, then roughly and a bit clumsily fondled her breasts.

And maybe the acceptance of what was going to happen to her made her system shut down. It was as if her mind and body were suddenly two different things, as if her mind didn't belong to this body anymore. She went slack under his hands, didn't even realize that he was trying to pull down his zipper, while his other hand was pushing up her skirt.

Suddenly he let go of it, and his hands came to frame her head, she saw his lips move, saw him saying something, maybe even shouting, he was shaking her shoulders, but it was as if she was watching the whole scene, not being actually a part of it. And then he was gone. The weight lifted from her body, but she didn't care, didn't really notice it. She thought she heard the door slam, but she was just lying there, staring at the light on the ceiling, her eyes unfocussed, her body beginning to shiver.

****

Angel entered his apartment about ten minutes after Buffy had reached hers, but what he found in his living room was unlike the one the blond had found in hers. Switching on the light, he froze as well, but for completely different reasons. The two people on the sofa jerked away from each other, and while Drusilla blushed deeply, Spike only glared at him, "Bloody hell, can't you knock before you rush in like some attack commando?"

The dark-haired man chuckled slightly and raised a brow, "That's hardly the way to describe my entrance. Besides this is my apartment and why didn't you go to your own room?" he asked, pointedly nodding towards the door in the right corner. "Hi, Drusilla," he finally acknowledged her woman's presence.

Her blush deepening, she quickly glanced at him, and then in the same manner looked back, staring at her hands. "Hi, Angel."

Spike clicked his tongue and tilted his head, "And may I ask where you came from at this late hour?"

"You may not," his friend shot back. "It's certainly none of your business." Giving Spike a last look, he smiled apologetically at Drusilla, "I'm sorry about this, I didn't mean to interrupt you. And don't feel uncomfortable, you're always welcome here."

"It's a bit awkward," she admitted shyly, "I’ve known you for so long, it's almost as if my big brother was finding me making out with my boyfriend."

Angel grinned, "Hardly. You won't hear any threats from me and I'm also not going to hit Spike."

The blond snorted, "As if you could."

His friend looked pointedly at his still highly colored cheek, but didn't comment. "Well, just ignore I came in," he said after a moment. "I'm tired and I need to sleep for-"

He couldn't finish his sentence when suddenly the phone rang. Exchanging a curious glance with Spike, he picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"A-Angel."

The voice was so small, so distant that he had problems to hear it at all and so he asked, "Hello? It's Angel here, who's there?" He could see Spike standing up and coming towards him, gesturing if the call was for him. The dark-haired man shook his head and strained to understand, startled when he heard a sob coming through the line. "Hello!” he called, suddenly alarmed.

"A-Angel."

This time the voice was clear and Angel could feel his heart dropping right through the bottom, "Buffy," he shouted through the phone, holding it in a crushing grip. From the corner of his eye he saw Drusilla getting up as well, alarm in her eyes. She put a hand on Spike's arm, and he looked at her shaking his head. "Buffy, talk to me. What's going on?"

"A-A-Angel," she managed to croak again, "Please," another sob tore from her throat, "help."

"Buffy!" he shouted, "Baby, are you hurt? Buffy! BUFFY!" Angel turned his head, looked at Spike with wild, fearful eyes, then tried again to talk to her, "Buffy," he asked again, gently this time, guessing she might be frightened or hurt. "Baby, talk to me."

"Please come," she whispered, then the phone fell from her hand.

*

Angel couldn't remember ever having felt so helpless before. While Spike was busy breaking every speed limit that existed, Drusilla put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He was ready to scream. Buffy hadn't responded anymore after her last plead for him to come. He'd shouted, cried, whispered and begged, but she hadn't talked to him again.

Without thinking again, he'd grabbed his keys and headed for his car. Spike and Drusilla caught up with him after a moment, the blond insisting that Angel wasn't in any condition to drive a car.

And Angel was glad. He hadn't even realized that his whole body was trembling before he'd felt Drusilla fastening the seat belt for him. His mouth was dry, his heart was pounding in his ears and the most horrible images were running through his head. God, what had happened to her? She'd sounded so weak. It wasn't like Buffy to ask for help. The mere fact that she'd called him was turning his gut into knots.

God, let her be all right, he found himself praying. Please, let her be all right.

*

She didn't answer the door and frankly Angel hadn't expected her to. So exchanging a short glance with Spike the two men threw themselves at the door and it gave way without much resistance. "Buffy," Angel shouted, storming into her apartment, ignoring everything he'd ever learned about entering an apartment where he didn't know what he to expect, but panic was pounding through his body, pushing him forward. While Spike and Drusilla were checking the kitchen and the bedrooms, Angel went straight towards the living room and was about to switch on the light, when her voice stopped him.

"No, don't," she pleaded.

"Buffy," he said gently, stepping inside, trying to see something despite of the darkness. Then slowly as his eyes became accustomed to the lack of light, he could see her sitting on the ground, her back leaning against a chair, she was trying to cover her upper body with... His blood froze in his veins. "Buffy," he said, kneeling down in front of her, his breath coming in gasps, "Buffy," he repeated her name, not able to take in what his mind was telling him.

Her lips looked swollen, there was a bruise on her cheek, her skirt was torn, the shirt too, and she was desperately clutching it against her bare breasts. And if that hadn't been enough he could make out the silhouettes of her torn bra and panties lying on the ground. "Oh, God, Buffy," his voice cracked in his throat, he had no idea if he should touch her at the moment or not. He sensed movement at the door, and without turning said, "Spike, call the cops."

The blond was already pulling his phone from his pocket, when Buffy's voice shouted hoarsely, "No."

"Baby," Angel said gently, tentatively reaching out and putting a hand on her upraised knee, "You need to report it to the police. You have to report the person who..." his voice broke again, then with difficulty he continued, "did this to you, who... raped you... has to be punished." He heard Drusilla's and Spike's shocked gasps from the door but didn't care.

"He didn't rape me," Buffy whispered, slowly covering Angel's hand with hers.

"The hell he didn't," he bit out.

"No, he didn't," she insisted softly. "He tried. But he didn't finish. Angel," she inhaled sharply, "he... he was watching us," she said.

"Watching us?" he asked, not understanding, "Who was watching us?"

Now she couldn't hold back the sob anymore. Without thinking twice, Angel pulled her close and cradled her in his arms, holding her, stroking her, soothing her with words of nonsense, much the same way he'd done in the bathroom a few days ago.

"We're going to make some coffee," Drusilla announced and pulled Spike with her to give the couple some privacy.

The moment they were gone, Angel gently kissed Buffy's temple and asked again, "Who?"

"It was Riley." She felt his body stiffen, and heard the sharp intake of breath. "He was here when I came home. I forgot he still had a key. He never used it since he left and so," she shrugged. "He was drunk and angry. He'd obviously seen us in front of the Splash. He lost control and I was sure he was going to rape me."

She felt him tighten his hold on her, felt the shudders that were running through his body, "And then, when I thought it was going to happen, he let go of me. I... I don't know why, but he was gone."

"I really want to kill him," Angel admitted after a long silence.

"I know," she replied, snuggling into the healing warmth of his body. It was so good to be close to him. She needed him and trusted him completely. Nothing could've told him this more clearly. In a moment of utter vulnerability she had called him. Not Willow. Not Cordelia. Although they were women, she had called him and despite the horror he felt also humbled by her trust.

"I'm staying," he announced. "And I still think you should report him."

"I know," she said again, "but it won't change anything. I hate him," she told him, "don't get me wrong. I really do. I despise him, he is disgusting. But it would cost him his job and I'm not sure it would make him a better person. He isn't really a violent person." When she heard his sound of protest, she put her fingers over his mouth, "He hit me, once. And today... I don't know, he lost control. But he got it back. He didn't go through with it. I have no idea why, but I want to believe it's because he realized what he was doing was wrong. I was married to him for four years. I don't want to think of him as a rapist."

Angel considered her words, weighted them against his urge to have Riley punished for what he'd done to her, "Okay," he finally gave in. "But I'm staying."

"Yes," she replied. "Just hold me, Angel. Hold me," she whispered and then the tears finally fell.

Part 15

Saturday, August 26th, 4.00 p.m., Los Angeles

Angel entered Buffy's kitchen to start the percolator. If Buffy was still the same, and he couldn't believe that she would ever change her obsession for strong, black coffee in the morning, she would need a mug of the brew. Okay, so it wasn't exactly morning anymore, but who cared.

When the coffee machine began to hum, Angel opened the fridge in search for some food and found cheese, eggs, onions and milk, all he needed for a nice omelet. She would surely need it as soon as she got out of the shower.

He held her for a long time, just held her while she was crying in his arms, not only for what had happened to her last night, though by God that was reason enough, but also for four lost years, for a dead brother, misjudgment. It just poured out of her, a cleansing sort of tears, healing, but nevertheless painful to watch. Dru and Spike had left quietly to give the couple the privacy they needed.

It was after sunrise when Buffy had finally fallen asleep and he'd gently scooped her up and carried her to her bed, peeling her torn clothing from her bruised body. Even now tears welled up in Angel's eyes when he thought about the marks on her breasts, the bruises violent fingers had left on her inner thighs. Riley might not have gone through with what he'd attempted, but Angel still felt like finding him and beating him until the last bone in his miserable body was broken.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he ran a shaky hand through his hair and busied himself with the omelet, cutting the onions and cracking eggs. He wasn't a gourmet cook, but he could at least manage not to starve and his omelets weren't that bad. Beating eggs in with milk, he didn't hear the silent footsteps approaching the kitchen, and almost jumped out of his skin, when he heard a soft "Hi," from the door.

"Buffy," he turned to her and put a hand on his chest, "God, you startled me."

"Sorry," she gave him a smile, but it wasn't really apologetic, "Hmmm. That smells nice," she commented, and then settled herself on a chair, watching him preparing breakfast. She'd showered and washed her hair, now securely hidden under a fluffy towel while her body was covered in an equally fluffy robe. She looked so sexy, that Angel sucked in a sharp breath, desperately hoping she wouldn't realize what she was doing to him. He was glad he was wearing loose slacks. After what she'd been through she certainly wouldn't care for the fact that he was completely aroused.

"Coffee'll be ready in a minute," he announced without turning, "I suppose you still drink it black?"

"Our tastes are still the same," she replied, smiling slightly, "I seem to have conked out," she remarked, still a bit nervous remembering the fact that she had found herself naked in her bed, without any memory how she'd gotten there. "Did you sleep at all?" she asked.

"A little," he said and poured his mix into a pan. "I'm okay. Don't worry about falling asleep." He stirred the egg-mix, and then turned to her. "You were entitled to sleep." Tentatively he stepped closer and crouched down in front of her, concern in his eyes and voice, "How do you feel?"

"Better," she retorted, "Clean." She suddenly shrugged self-consciously, then looked down at her hands, "I suppose you saw the bruises he... left."

"Yes," he confirmed, reached out, and covered her tightly entwined hands, massaging her white knuckles, then pulled them towards him and kissed them softly. Her head came up with a jerk and their eyes met, "There is nothing to be ashamed of," he told her gently, "Absolutely nothing."

"I know," she said, exhaling a shaky breath, "Intellectually I know that. I thought about everything I learned about rape and attempted rape. I know that he had a need to show his power, but... but I feel so violated, Angel. He came into my home, a home we shared while we were married and... And I know I didn't love him, but that doesn't mean there weren’t happy times. We laughed, Angel. We joked, we," she looked at the stove, "we even made breakfast together, and now he's tainted everything."

"Buffy-"

"No, please, let me. I need to tell you."

"Okay," he said softly, kissing her hands again. "Go on."

She took another shaky breath, "The night we split up, we had an argument and he went berserk. He hit me, but that was nothing compared to what he did yesterday. I know we didn't get along, he behaved horribly and I could be a bitch too, but I still had some hope we might find a way to at least tolerate each other, as colleagues – some day," she suddenly had to laugh. It wasn't a happy sound, "But now, I hate him, Angel. I really hate him."

"I hate him too," he replied, shifting a little bit on his feet, "You're sure about not reporting him?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "As much as I despise him, I can’t do it. I don't know why, I can’t really explain, but I can't do it."

When the fresh smell of the cooked omelet reached his nose, Angel got up to turn their breakfast over in the pan then came back, "I understand," he said. He wasn't quite sure when he'd made the decision to do what he was about to do. Maybe it had been tonight when she'd cried in his arms or later when he'd watched her sleeping, but he'd made up his mind. There would be no more secrets between them. He wouldn't risk their fragile relationship by keeping something from her.

Still looking into her questioning gaze, he went on, "Yesterday you asked me why I came back to L.A. and I told you it was because I was homesick. But that was just part of the reason."

"Just part of?" she asked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Two weeks ago, Internal Affairs approached us. Obviously convinced that there’s a dirty cop in our precinct." He saw her eyes widen, heard her gasp, and nodded, "Yeah. I know. Pretty bad stuff. They wanted me because I've already been there, and I knew all the officers and the fact that Spike, whom nobody knew, was my partner was a big plus."

"A dirty cop," she said incredulously, "Oh God. Do you... do you know who?"

"We don’t have the slightest idea. According to the DA everyone’s a suspect," he told her, got up to pour two mugs of coffee and to prepare two plates with the omelet. He placed both in front of her place and his, and then sat down.

"The DA?" she asked, "Does that mean-"

"Yeah, Cordelia is involved. Quite intensely actually. She is my regular contact. Doyle knows too, Internal Affairs of course and... Giles."

"I see," she nodded, tasting his cooking. "That's good," she commented almost absentmindedly. "You said we’re all suspects," she said after a moment. "Yet you told me."

He stopped his fork in mid-air, put it down, reached over the table and took her hand, "I don't want any more secrets between us. I have the feeling that... that we have a chance here. I have no idea what's going to happen between us, but a secret can be a bad thing. It could kill something before it has a chance to... blossom."

She had to swallow the lump in her throat before she could reply, "I feel honored, by your trust. Is it intentional or validated by facts?"

"Pure intention," he said with a smile playing on his lips. "But I trust my feelings. You were never really on my list," he told her and let go of her hand. "But what I meant with understanding you, there's a possibility that Riley could be the one we're looking for and although I hate him, although he hurt me, I remember all the good times we had together and find myself hoping it isn't him."

She grimaced slightly at his words, then picked up another piece of food, "I wonder if Cordelia would agree with you," she mused.

He grinned at that, "I doubt it. She’s pretty tough. I'm really surprised that her relationship with Doyle works. Hell, when he called me in New York to tell me he was getting married, my first reaction was to laugh."

"I agree, they’re certainly an interesting couple. But Cordy is so in love with him, I can hardly believe it. Don't get me wrong. She is my friend and I love her, but like you said, she’s tough as nails and she’s the last person I'd expected to fall in love like this."

"Love isn't something you can choose," Angel said quietly. "The last four years would have been much easier if I could've just turned my feelings off."

"Would you have liked to turn them off?" she asked, deliberately avoiding looking at him, too afraid of his answer.

He hesitated, took a sip from his coffee. Putting his mug down, he propped his elbows on the table entwined his fingers and rested his chin on them. "There have been days and nights," he let out a short laugh, "mostly nights actually, when I wished I'd never met you," he said honestly, remembering the pain and heartache especially the first year after he'd left L.A.

He saw her frown, but still she wouldn't lift her head, "I see," she whispered. "I really hurt you didn’t I?"

"You did," he agreed. When he saw her flinch he immediately reached out and covered her hands with one of his large. "But that was only on my bad days. Sitting here across you at the table, I know that my life would've been terribly empty without you."

"I know how you feel," she replied, her voice just a whisper. Her head came up and he could see the moistness in her eyes. "I'm so glad you're back," she admitted. "I was confused when Giles told us you were coming, I had no idea if you hated me. But now I'm glad."

"Never," he said firmly, "I could never hate you. That's just not possible. There is no hate-Buffy-program on my hard-drive," he tried to make light of the intense situation.

"I-," she started when her doorbell suddenly rang. Angel saw her blanche, felt her hand tremble under his, saw her eyes widen in sudden fear. He squeezed her trembling hand.

"He's not going to hurt you again," he promised, getting up. "I'm just going to see who's there."

She held his arm when he was about to pass her, "Angel, I don't want to see anyone. I don't... want to explain this," she pointed at her face and the bruises that were very visible.

"Alright. I'll try to send them away. Okay?"

She nodded and smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

He smiled back, and then went for the door. He wasn't sure who was more surprised him or the person standing in the doorway. "Cordelia?"

"Angel?" she said, raising a curious brow. "What a surprise. Or maybe not. Doyle swore that it was only a matter of time until you and Buffy got back together. But boy, do you work fast. You've been back barely a week and already I find you in her apartment." She took a deep breath, "Well, are you going to invite me in, or not?"

"Cordelia," he hesitated, "Now isn’t a good time."

"Why? Is she not dressed yet?" she rolled her eyes, "believe me, Angel, I'm a big girl. The idea that people actually have sex with each other doesn't shock me anymore."

"I know you're a big girl," he replied, but didn't step away. "Can't you accept that you aren't always welcome? Why didn't you call first?"

She pursed her lips, and an expression of annoyance crossed her features, "Because, Mr. watch-dog, I had already a date with your... well, what would you call her?"

"Just let her come in, Angel" Buffy called from the kitchen.

He gave Cordelia another long look, "Don't upset her, do you hear?" he warned, making her stare at him in confusion, then stepped back to allow her to enter.

"Thanks," she breezed past him, "I really can't see what's so special about him," she was already talking to Buffy, "Okay, so he's got a nice body," she said, walking towards the kitchen, "and he's not bad looking-"

"Thanks," Angel commented with a smirk.

Cordelia ignored him, "-but his manners leave a lot to be deserved. So, girlfriend would you now tell how it happened that I come to find a man in your... OH MY GOD!"

"Cordy," Buffy said calmly after her friend’s shocked outcry. "Calm down."

"Calm down?" the brunette asked disbelievingly. "What happened to you? Were you mugged?"

"No," Buffy shook her head, and then reached up to loosen the towel that was still wrapped around her hair. "I wasn't mugged."

"But... what happened?" Cordelia wanted to know. With a helpless expression she sat down on a chair.

The blond looked towards the doorway where Angel was standing. He smiled at her and she smiled back. Still looking at him she said, "Angel and I were having dinner last night, and a drink. Afterwards he kissed me at my car." The brunette raised a brow and her gaze went to Angel as well, when Buffy continued, "When I came home, Riley was already here. He must have seen us kissing. He was... out of his mind, and then he... just lost it."

"And he hit you again?"

"Yes, that and..." she hesitated. Taking a deep breath, she added, "He tried to rape me."

"What?" Cordelia gasped."He didn't go through with it, but he tried."

"Oh," the brunette nodded, now believing to understand the situation, "And so you called Angel to report what was happening."

"Yes and no."

Cordelia narrowed her eyes, "What do you mean yes and no? Buffy, don't tell me you’re letting him get away with this. He tried to rape you and he hit you. I would gladly prosecute his ass and make him pay."

"I know," Buffy assured her. "I know Cordy, but for several reasons I don't want to. I decided not to report him and I expect you to respect that."

"I-," Cordelia gave her a helpless look, then turned to Angel, "What are you saying to this... this nonsense? You can't honestly support her. Angel, Riley needs to be punished for this. He tried to rape her."

"I agree," he replied, taking Buffy's hand, "And I told her that. But I can also understand what's keeping her from doing it. I respect her decision. There were special circumstances."

"Oh no," the brunette looked back and forth between Buffy and Angel, "Don't try to tell me there were different circumstances. You’re both detectives. There is no excuse for rape."

"Attempted rape," Buffy threw in.

"Well, then attempted rape. It doesn't really matter. He tried to force himself on you."

"Yes, but he obviously realized it was wrong," the blond argued, "It wouldn't change anything if he was accused of attempted rape. First, we’re still married, and I've seen more than one judge looking at a woman who accused her husband of rape. Secondly, I'm sure he won't do it again. And he’s not going to go around and rape or try to rape other women. He isn't the type. I'm not going to report him, Cordelia, and you have to accept it."

"Well... I... I don't know what else to say. I don't like your decision, but it seems I can't change your mind," the brunette said, throwing her hands in the air. In a last attempt she looked at Angel, hoping against hope that he would talk some sense into Buffy.

"Cordelia I agree with you, completely. But I'm not going to put her through more than necessary. It's her decision to make," he said.

The assistant DA took a deep breath, "Fine. Well, then, I suppose our trip to the beach is off?"

"Oh God, I'm sorry," Buffy buried her head in her hands, "I forgot."

"Understandable under these circumstances." Cordelia gave the blond a smile and patted her arm. Then she suddenly grinned wickedly, "So I'm going to drag Doyle there, oh, I can just see him groaning. He hates the beach, he hates the sun, says it's not good for his skin. Alright. See you on Monday," she said and stood. "Don't bother," she told Buffy who was about to get up, "I know the way." She gave them a short wave, before the door closed behind her.

"You didn't tell her."

"Hmmm?"

"I said, you didn't tell her that I know about the real reason you came back." Buffy stood and moved close to him, raising her head to look into his eyes.

"What?" he asked, mesmerized by the beauty of her bruised face, by the look in her eyes. "Oh, yeah. I know." He grinned suddenly, "It's the weekend."

"Huh?"

"She’s always telling me that work free time is sacred time. No work on weekend she says. So I decided to listen to her."

"Oh?" Buffy raised a brow. "Angel," she asked again, "why didn't you tell her?"

He sighed, "Because I think Monday is still early enough. Because we both know what would've happened if I told her. And you are in no condition to deal with one of her tantrums. Not today."

"Oh," she said again, her eyes wide and grateful.

"Yeah," he reached out and tenderly touched her cheek with his fingertips. "Does it still hurt?"

"No, not really," she whispered, feeling a jolt of pleasure.

"What do you want to do today?" he asked, forcing his mind away from dangerous ground. For God's sake, she just lived through her husband trying to rape her and he was thinking about opening her robe and... He jerked away from her, "Do you want to watch TV or shall I get you a movie or-"

"Angel," she scolded gently.

"What?"

"You're babbling."

"I am?" he asked, and then exhaled sharply, "Yeah, I know," he admitted with a little shaky laugh. "I'm sorry." He took a deep breath, "So what do you want to do?"

"Could you... just hold me?"

He groaned at the idea of her body pressing intimately to his, knowing it would be pure torture for him. But her eyes were huge and pleading, she trusted him to be with her, help her and he couldn’t deny her anything. "That," he said, glad his voice didn't crack, "I can do." He held out his arms and she came to him, needing the closeness, the shelter of his body, the feeling of safety in his arms.

"This is nice," she whispered.

"Yes, it is," he replied, and realized it was the absolute truth.

Part 16

Sunday, August 27th, 5.00 p.m., Los Angeles

They spent the whole weekend in Buffy's apartment talking, watching TV or sleeping. Saturday night Buffy fell asleep again in Angel's arms only this time he didn't carry her to bed but held her in his arms. Sunday morning found them on the sofa with arms and limbs entwined. It was a bit awkward at first, but then Buffy began to laugh because the belt of her robe had caught on the buttons of his shirt and that saved the situation.

If someone had told Angel that he would spend a weekend with Buffy talking and holding her, he would've laughed. Firstly because not in his wildest dreams had he expected to be there at all and secondly if the unlikely case did occur talking wouldn't be on his mind. But of course he hadn't counted on Buffy getting a divorce or that she didn't blame him anymore. And by no means would he have ever imagined Riley going completely crazy.

Again and again Angel's thoughts returned to the blue-eyed, blond-haired, laughing boy he once knew and somehow a part of his mind just couldn't comprehend that boy was the same one who had tried to rape his wife. What had happened to change him so profoundly? Or had he just been too blind to see that it had been there the whole time? The anger, the jealousy, the violence.

##"Hey, Angel."

A grinning Riley stood on the Reardon's doorstep, his hands bruised and his ten-year-old face smeared with dirt. Angel found himself grinning in return. "Riley! What happened to you?"

"I borrowed Connor's bike," the blond answered, his grin wider than before.

"And?" Angel asked, not understanding what happened. Connor was Riley's older brother by six years and he was a rebel. He drove a Harley, wore leather clothes and a red bandanna. Carmen Reardon always crossed herself when he drove by. Her husband just laughed. Angel and Riley on the other hand saw him as their hero. The only thing that irritated them was that Connor always had girls with him and kissed them a lot. What could a guy probably want from a girl?

"The motorcycle," Riley clarified.

Angel's eyes grew wide, "The motorbike? Oh sh-" he started saying, then quickly glanced behind himself to see if his mother heard him. Releasing a breath of relief, he amended, "I mean, wow. Where is it?"

The blond turned his head and Angel followed his eyes to see the red machine standing on the sideway. And he figured out that the filth on Riley's face was nothing but motor oil. "What have you done?" he asked alarmed that the motorbike might be damaged. Connor most certainly wouldn't like to hear that.

"Nothing," Riley shook his head as if the question was an insult. "I just took it. Connor’s gone for two days. Dad gave him his car and so the bike stayed at home." He winked, "Wanna go for a ride?"

"A ... ride?" Angel's mouth went dry with the thought of riding Connor's sacred bike. "But what if something happens? I mean we aren't allowed to ride a bike at all and Connor..." he trailed off, giving his friend a skeptic look.

Riley made a dismissive gesture with his hand and snorted, "Nothing’s going to happen. And it’ll be fun." ##

And Angel had gone with him. The result had been a bruised knee for Riley and a broken wrist for Angel. Their parents had scolded them and Connor who'd quickly discovered the damage to his bike looked as if he was ready to kill. Only after they'd sworn to pay for the repairs he grinned and winked at them. He really was a nice guy even though Connor made himself look tough and dangerous. Today he was working as a lawyer in Washington. Angel could still remember his mother's disbelief the day Mr. Finn had told them his oldest son was going to law school.

God, those times had been fun. He had loved driving Connor's bike, Riley laughing all the time. It had even been worth the broken wrist.

"Hey."

Buffy's soft voice pulled him from his thoughts as she slipped onto the sofa beside him. "Hey," he replied, trying to come back to the present.

She tilted her head and eyed him carefully, "Heavy thoughts?"

He slightly shook his head, "No, not really. Or... well, I was just remembering when Riley took his brother's bike and we drove it right down a hill. He bruised his knee and I broke my wrist, but it was great. I..." he looked up and lifted his shoulders in a helpless gesture.

"I know," she replied, leaning her head against his right shoulder. "I think it's even harder for you. You have so many memories, good ones. I just..." she trailed off, not knowing how to explain, but knowing also that she wouldn't need to, that Angel would understand without words.

"Do you know how Connor is?" he asked after a moment.

"He's fine. Riley and him don't talk very often as far as I know. He came to our wedding, then twice afterwards, but I don't know if they called each other once the last two years. That's when... when Riley started seeing other women," she said, and he heard it in her voice that she had problems saying it. He knew she hadn't loved Riley, but she still was his wife and he had cheated on her, it was humiliating nevertheless, and obviously everyone at the precinct knew about it.

"Riley wasn't bad the first two years," she continued calmly, "We had some really good times. Fun. Laughter. Then suddenly everything changed. I still-" she paused abruptly and her head came up from his shoulder, an odd expression on her face, "You know," she said, "Don't you think it's strange that almost over night his attitude, not just towards me, but his whole attitude changed? I never even tried to find out why. But now..." she looked speculatively, and Angel knew what she was referring to.

"You think he might be...?""I don't know," she lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug, "and I really hope I'm wrong. I mean there might be something else, something we just don’t know about. He isn't the most communicative guy. I know he seems open and all, but he never really confided in me."

"No he doesn't," Angel confirmed. "The blond California boy look fools a lot of people. But deep down, Riley is a completely different person. And you’re right you know. It's one thing to be jealous and to try to steal your friend's girlfriend but that..." he shook his head, still not able to accept that fact that his former best friend had tried to rape his wife. "I just don't get it."

"Last night you said you followed him. Did you find anything interesting?"

He hesitated only a second, he told her everything he'd found out, including Riley's encounter with Simone Chambers and his own suspicions about it.

She wasn't surprised, but her eyes were incredibly sad, "Yeah. That sounds like him. Unfortunately that's the Riley I’ve known the last two years. That was the reason I finally found the courage to file for divorce. Oh, Angel," she put her head back on his shoulder, "What are we going to do?"

He desperately wanted to make this easier for her, so he suggested, "How about telling Cordelia about that you know about the investigation?" He had wanted to wait until Monday, but maybe, he thought, it was better to talk to the brunette in private.

She rolled her eyes, and blinked, understanding what he was trying to do, "Gee, and I thought this weekend couldn't get worse."

*****

Riley didn't have a nice weekend. After he left the apartment he'd once lived in, he went to the closest bar and got incredibly drunk. But the image of Angel kissing Buffy and especially her response wouldn't let go. God, he hated the bastard. And he hated the fact that his wife had never stopped loving Angel. And more than anything he hated himself for being so stupid to think that would ever change. That the mere fact that she was wearing his ring would wipe the memory of another man away.

God, how stupid could a guy be?

Groaning, he turned in his bed and wasn't really surprised to find a naked woman beside him, although for the life of him he couldn't remember her name or how she'd gotten there. What, however, they'd done in the bed was quite obvious, regarding the fact that he was naked too. It was late Sunday afternoon and he had no memory of the last 40 hours and he desperately wished his temporary amnesia would include a little earlier. Then, he thought, he wouldn't have to remember what he'd almost done to the woman he still loved more than he could express. The only woman he had ever loved. The one who never loved him back.

Hissing some expletive he pushed the naked woman's warm body away, stumbled from his bed and into his trousers to pour himself a drink and light a cigarette. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he let out a harsh laugh. God, he was pathetic. His father would turn in his grave if he were able to see him like this. And his deeply catholic mother wouldn't stop reciting Hail Marys, hoping that that would somehow make up for her son's sins and reduce his time in the purgatory.

Purgatory. Another harsh laugh came out of his mouth, and he downed the whiskey in one large gulp. His mother had no idea. He was in his own personal purgatory. Ever since two years ago, almost to the day, when he'd almost by accident, been able to read the final report about the shooting in front of the bank, the shooting that had killed Buffy's brother Mike.

His hand suddenly shaky he poured himself another drink and downed it the same way he'd done with the other. God, he needed it. He managed to go through weekdays without it, he was occupied then, dealing with cases, but he also had to look at her, and at night, or after waking up, the reality would crush down on him, almost making him drown under the weight of his own guilt.

He could still hear his mother say, “isn't he a nice boy”, and he wanted to smash something thinking back to her words. His mother had been dead for over five years and not for the first time Riley was glad. She wouldn't have been able to live with the shame of what her son had done with his life. Her son meaning Riley. Not Connor, whom everyone had expected to fail.

But of course Connor hadn't failed. On the contrary. He was a successful lawyer in Washington, working for a Senator from time to time, making good money and he was happily married with three kids. With 41, Connor had managed to get all the things Riley had wanted for himself. And he hadn't screwed up, the way his little brother had done. Buffy had once asked him why he didn't call Connor anymore. The brothers had always been close despite the age difference in their youth. But how could he face Connor, look into his brother's eyes after the things he'd done?

He felt better after the fourth drink, but of course he still wasn’t drunk. His increasing alcohol abuse during the last two years demanded more than four shots to make him numb enough to be able to live with himself. He turned when he heard the woman yawn and looked down at her. She was pretty he had to admit. It should boost his ego to see that good-looking women easily fell for him. He knew why. Somehow he had managed to preserve his body. He was still fit and well trained, despite the alcohol. It was necessary for his job.

He loved being a cop, had always loved it. He had been so incredibly proud after the Academy. Now it was the only thing he'd left. The only thing that held him together. He couldn't afford to lose his job. Without it, there would be nothing left. So he held his body fit and did his job. And he did it well, he was a good cop.

"Can I have a drink too?" the woman asked, slipping from the bed, completely unconcerned about her own nakedness. Her voice was soft and sexy. Her eyes were still half-closed and under normal circumstances Riley would've found it attractive. Now, it simply repulsed him.

"No," he said sharply, hating the woman, hating himself more. "Get your clothes and get out."

"Hey," she smiled and came closer. "No need to get angry. I don't need a drink." She reached out, her finger trailed down his chest, and stopped at his denims, "We can do other things instead."

He slapped her hand away and stepped back, "I said, get out," he almost shouted.

Her eyes widened for a moment, then they narrowed, "Geez, no need to get insulting. I'm gone in a minute."

"Make it a second," he hissed and turned away. He didn't want to see her again. Didn't want to think about her. She was just a woman, without a name, and in a minute without a face. He wouldn't even remember her tomorrow.

Mike's face came into his mind again and with a tortured sound he threw his half-full glass across the room and it smashed against the wall breaking into a thousand pieces. The woman, who was still only in her bra and panties, gathered the rest of her clothes and hurried out, not willing to risk staying close to him.

Riley didn't even notice it. He walked over to the kitchen counter and took another glass, then filled it to the rim. Maybe after he'd downed the contents he would be able to forget. And if he was lucky the booze would some day make the memories disappear all together.

Part 17

Same day, 7.00 p.m.

If Cordelia hadn't told him about what had happened in Buffy's apartment two days ago, Doyle would've grinned seeing Angel and his former, and judging his friend's expression also, his present love-interest standing there when he opened the door. But because he knew, his face was compassionate when it fell on the tiny blond, "Buffy," he said gently and smiled, then nodded at Angel. "What can we do for you?"

"We need to talk to your fiancée," Angel announced and nodded as well, when Doyle stepped back to invite them in. They went past him and Doyle was surprised to see Buffy smile slightly. He had seen rape-victims before and they usually looked frightened or subdued, some of them even angry, but the blond was calm, and if it hadn't been for the colorful bruise on her cheek nobody would've guessed what had occurred not even 48 hours ago.

Okay, so was "only" an attempted rape, but Doyle learned quickly that for some women that didn't make a difference. The violation of their individual space and the feeling of complete helplessness also left those who had escaped rape at the last possible moment shaken and scarred. Why it seemed so different for Buffy, he could only guess. She must be incredibly strong or it could have been Angel's company; probably it was a combination of both. Or, she just didn't show her feelings, let others only see a pretty surface, not wanting them to detect what was underneath.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the appearance of his soon-to-be wife who just came from the bedroom, concentrating on inserting an earring. They were due for a dinner with Cordelia's boss in an hour and she'd been particularly careful in choosing the right dress. A moment before she would've ran right into Angel's chest she became aware of the company and stopped with a startled gasp, put a hand over her chest, "Oh my God," she closed her eyes for a moment, then looked at Angel, "*What* are you doing here? You almost gave me a heart attack."

She took a deep breath, ignored Angel's amused grin and shifted her attention towards Buffy, "How are you?" she asked immediately.

"I'm okay," the blond replied and Cordelia's concern settled a little. She'd expected some bright 'I'm fine', but Buffy's quiet reaction gave her the feeling that the blond meant what she said. "A bit shaken still," Buffy added, smiling at Angel when he took her hand, "but so far okay."

"That's good," Cordelia gave her a friendly smile, then looked back and forth between her two visitors, "So why are you here?"

"What?" Angel raised a brow, "No tantrum today?"

Doyle snickered and his fiancée shot him a nasty look, before she turned back to Angel, "Just tell me why you're here. I have an important date in an hour. My boss throws a birthday party for his wife and has invited us. I can't be late." She sighed, then amended, "*We* can't be late."

Buffy pulled slightly at Angel's hand, when she replied, "Oh, well, if you're busy... We can talk about this tomorrow," she suggested.

Codelia's gaze again went back and forward between her guests, and after a moment of considering the situation, she sighed, "No. I'd rather hear the bad news now."

"Bad news?" Buffy asked a bit breathless. "Who said it was bad news?"

"Buffy," the brunette sounded as if the blonde’s question had been an insult to her intelligence, "I’ve known you almost twenty years. Don't you think I can notice a guilty expression when I see one?"

The blond was about to reply again when she felt Angel squeeze the hand he was still holding. When she turned to look at him she saw him shaking his head slightly, signaling her to let the explaining to him. "May we sit down for a minute?" he asked.

"Sit down, huh?" Doyle grinned. "That bad?"

Cordelia glared at him again, but couldn't shake off the feeling that his comment was - as so often - right on the money. Doyle was rarely wrong, and if nothing else, the way Buffy and Angel were looking at each other was more than just slightly suspicious. "Okay, then," she said with an exaggerated sigh, "spill it. Ruin my evening."

Angel smiled slightly, "Ruin your evening? I wouldn't dare." His smile widened into a grin when he saw her narrowing her eyes. "Never mind," he continued, "The reason we came was that I told Buffy about the investigation." He said it calmly, almost casually, and then glancing shortly at Doyle, whose eyes had widened in surprise and understanding, he shifted his attention back to Cordelia.

It was almost funny to see the myriad of emotions crossing the brunette's face in a matter of seconds. There was surprise, disbelief, anger, and many more Angel wasn't able to name. In the end she just stared at him as if he'd suddenly grown a second head. "You're sure you are alright?" she asked, her voice a bit shaky, the disbelief clearly audible. "I mean just to make sure. You didn't recently split your personality and thought, what the heck, I'm undercover for the Internal Department and in my other life I choose to do whatever I want?" Now her voice was soft, too soft, and Angel could already anticipate the explosion of anger that was about to erupt any minute.

"Cordelia-" Buffy tried to intervene and explain but she was cut off when the assistant DA jumped to her feet and began to pace the room, her hands waving frantically through the air.

"I don't believe it. Who else knows about this? Riley, because he was your pal once, or Darla, because you and her hit the sack together all those years ago, or... hey, why not Drusilla, because she was your rookie and if I'm guessing right, Spike is probably bonking her this very moment," she raged, her strides getting more agitated by the minute.

"Cordy, darling-" Doyle tried to soothe her but the dark glare she shot him made him shut up instantly. He knew her well enough to see that now was not the time to discuss things. Or to try to calm the waves. The hurricane was in full force and nothing would stop it now.

She stopped suddenly, straightened, her hands firmly planted at her hips, she took two menacing steps in Angel's direction, who to Doyle's utter surprise was sitting calmly, seemingly not caring for the storm that was about to come upon him. Like a very old, strong tree, Doyle mused. Completely unconcerned about the upcoming danger. But, even the strongest tree could be felled if the storm was furious enough.

"I should fire you," she hissed, "Fire you right now. It's inexcusable." Almost audibly her head snapped around and her eyes focused on Buffy for a moment, "I hope you know this has nothing to do with you personally," she said a little calmer. "I'm your friend and I never thought you were involved in any of this, but," her eyes narrowed again when they came back to rest on Angel, "this is a matter of trust and obedience. You knew exactly what yourjob was. You knew what you were meant to do and... what not."

She took a deep breath and combed a hand through her hair, "Unfortunately, you're already in too deep to replace you. Besides there's nobody equally qualified for the job. With enough inside knowledge, enough experience, and still distant enough to be objective. Or at least that's what I thought. It seems at least in point three I was wrong," she ended her rant. Then noticing the smug look on Angel's face, she sighed, "And I suppose you already knew."

"Of course I did," he grinned, "but I also knew you had to get some steam out of your system."

"You're very sure of yourself," a warning entered Cordelia's voice. A warning that she would only tolerate so much.

"In this case, I was," Angel replied, winking at her, making her laugh against her own will. "Cordelia," his voice was suddenly serious, almost pleading, "I couldn't keep it from Buffy. She needed to know what was going on. I refuse to start anything on a lie."

"I can understand that," she replied after a minute, "A lie can be... wait a moment," she stared at her visitors, "You refuse to start what? What is going on here?" Then her eyes suddenly widened and now a grin appeared on her face, "My, my, this is even more serious than I thought yesterday," she stated, exchanging a short glance with her future husband.

Angel felt suddenly uncomfortable with her excitement. Sure, he and Buffy had spent a weekend together. But it had been unusual circumstances that led to it and they'd spent the time as friends only. Yes, there was still a strong sexual attraction. Angel wasn't oblivious to it, and he also didn't want to deny it. But they hadn't once discussed any future plans or what her plans were. She was, after all, still married to Riley. And although he knew there were no feelings from her side and that she was glad it would be over soon, there was no guarantee she would jump into the next relationship, giving up the independence she just gained. "Cordelia, you’re jumping to conclusions here," he said and now there was a warning in his voice.

Of course the brunette ignored it, too happy with her friends and feeling too smug at the moment. She was the one amongst her friends who'd always insisted Buffy and Angel would get together again, who'd all but ignored Riley's existence, and who was now feeling better than ever. She could hardly wait to call Willow, Xander and Faith to tell them the good news. Besides, underneath all her tough behavior, the heart of a romantic was beating strongly, a side of her only very few people were allowed to see. "I still see what I see," she replied, her gaze darting back and forth between Buffy and Angel.

"We had one dinner together," the blond tried to calm down her friend's excitement. At the moment Buffy felt a bit cornered. There was no denying of her feelings for Angel, and she felt comfortable in his presence, was grateful for the understanding that had helped her to get through the weekend, but besides a toe curling kiss at her car, Angel had behaved like a friend, and for all she knew it could be all he intended to be. Plus, she had absolutely no urge to have all her friends interfere with her love life. She could almost hear Willow's excited babble, and Xander's oh so funny remarks or Faith's smug grin.

"So you had dinner together already," Cordelia raised a knowing brow at the couple. "And why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, feeling slightly hurt by the lack of confidence by her friend.

"Cordy, leave them alone," Doyle said, giving Buffy and Angel a compassionate glance. He of all people knew exactly how persistent his fiancée could be. "It's none of your business."

The look she gave him when she turned around was so funny he had a hard time not laughing. She stared at him with utter disbelief, "Not my business?" She could have asked referring to her own hair or to her bank account. The remark seemed absolutely ridiculous to her. "Of course this is my business. Buffy is my friend. Angel works for me. Whatever happens to them is absolutely my business."

Angel decided that now was not the time to discuss the matter, "Anyways," he said, looking at Cordelia, "Wasn't there a dinner you had to attend?"

"A dinner?" she stared at him, completely at loss for a moment, then panic entered her eyes. "The dinner! Christ almighty. We need to be there on time." Like a bullet she shot up from the chair she'd been sitting on, "I need to finish my makeup." She was almost out of the room, when she turned, "We have to talk about this tomorrow. With my bossy," she told Angel. "Be at my office at two, both of you."

"Yes, sir," the dark-haired man joked when the door slammed behind her. He heard Buffy chuckle, and gave her a warm smile. It was so good to feel her relax and think about things other than Riley for a moment. "Sorry," he said after a moment, shifting his eyes towards Doyle.

"No worries," his friend grinned when they all walked to the door, "I understand you had to tell her. Besides," he winked at them, "doesn't she look great when she's all worked up. Of course I'd never tell her, but she is even more beautiful this way."

Buffy grinned back, "Yes, but you better never tell her."

"Never," Angel agreed and the three laughed.

They shook hands at the door and Doyle gave the blond a warm smile, "Take care of yourself," he said. Then his eyes were on Angel for a moment, "But I guess I don't have to worry."

Buffy followed his eyes and smiled too, "No, I don't think so."

Part 18

Monday, August 28th, 9.00 a.m., Los Angeles

Riley couldn't remember when he ever dreaded entering his precinct the way he did now. He had been numb the whole weekend, couldn't even remember most of it. His only hour of awareness, when he woke up with a heavy head and an even heavier heart beside a woman whose name he still couldn't remember, had been drowned in two bottles of Scottish Whisky.

But with Monday morning where there was no opportunity to escape into a alcohol oblivion, the memories were back in full force. There was no way of denying it anymore. He'd gone into a jealous rage and tried to rape his wife.

There was a feeling of disgust inside of him, but it was also mixed with the dread that everyone would know, that she would've told her friends, namely Xander and Willow and of course that bitch Cordelia Chase. Riley hadn't even contemplated the idea that Buffy might have reported him for what he'd done. But now, entering the place where the good guys were trying to get the bad guys, he was hit front with it and he could feel cold sweat forming on his forehead, some of it even trickling down between his shoulder blades. God, what was he going to do if she'd reported him?

It wasn't that he didn't feel sorry for what he'd done. Because he did. He felt sorry and disgusted with himself, knowing what he'd almost done, remembering the fear and panic in her eyes when he'd thrown her to the ground, his large body pinning her down. But there was already so much he felt sorry for in his life, this was just one thing more on his overloaded conscience.

The thought, however, of being reported for attempted rape, being prosecuted and probably convicted in the end made his throat close up and his gut knot in fear. The consequence would be that he would lose his job and that was something that he wouldn't be able to deal with.Not really caring where he was going he bumped right into another body and startled he was looking at the last person he wanted to face today.

"Buffy," he almost whispered.

"Ri - Riley."

He saw a shudder running over her body, but she controlled it after only a second. They stared at each other, neither of them able to move, although all they both wanted was to run for cover. But somehow they seemed frozen in shock at the unexpected closeness after what had happened barely more than 48 hours ago.

Then suddenly she seemed to shake herself out of whatever had been holding her in place and wanted to hurry away, when he reached for her and held onto her arm, "Wait," he said.

She turned slowly and the look in her eyes took his breath away. On the surface they were cool and controlled, but underneath he could see pure hatred. "Let go," she hissed.

"Buffy, please," he said, ignoring her command, "I just want to talk to you."

"But I don't want to talk," she replied, shifting to get her arm free. "And I said, let go."

Again, he ignored her, "I just want to say how sorry I am, I-"

He couldn't finish his sentence since a hand came down on his shoulder and his body was propelled backward with great force. He slammed against the wall, the force of the impact pressing the air from his lungs so that he had trouble drawing a breath.

"She said, let go," came Angel's angry and biting voice and Riley's head jerked up.

He stared at the other man, whose body was trembling with rage. The blond tried to form words, but he still couldn't make his voice work. So he just held up his hands in surrender.

"Stay away from her," Angel warned, "Do you understand? Stay away or our next encounter won't be just a free flight through a room."

"I just... tried to say I'm sorry," Riley finally managed, straightening against the wall. "And I am sorry."

"Nobody cares if you’re sorry," Angel hissed advancing the other man again.

The blond looked at his former friend and with sudden understanding he could feel the anger boiling up in him as well, "Oh, I see, she called you. Her white knight in shining armor." He should've known that she would run to her beloved, he thought bitingly.

"You better shut up," Angel warned again, "You should be glad I'm a cop. Because if I wasn't, I would end this here and now."

"Oh really," Riley mocked, his guilt instantly forgotten, overruled by well known jealousy, "Did she call you to finish what I didn't give her?" he asked, "She was hot you know, but honestly, she isn't as tempting as she was before. That's the reason she had to call you for what she couldn't get from me."

It all happened the same moment. Buffy gasped in shock while Angel - with an outcry of rage - hurled himself on Riley. The same moment Xander, Spike, Drusilla and Faith entered the precinct and seeing what was happening they launched themselves between the two enraged men and separated them by sheer force.

"WHOA," Xander said when Riley swung his fist and missed the dark-haired man's face only by an inch. "Take his other arm," he hissed at Faith, while Spike tried to hold Angel back. The blond had known Angel for a while but never before had he seen such an expression of rage in the other man's eyes.

"Angel."

Buffy's soft, pleading voice finally managed to cut through the red haze that was still swimming in front of Angel's eyes at Riley's words and he had to take several calming breaths to think clearly again. For a moment he really lost it and all he wanted was kill the bastard who had done this to Buffy and was now mocking her with it.

Running a shaky hand through his hair he focused on Buffy, "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I lost it for a second."

She smiled a bit crookedly, "I noticed. But Angel, he isn't worth it."

"I know," he replied and turned his head towards Spike who was still holding his arm. "I'm okay now," he told his friend with a nod.

"You sure?" the blond asked not quite convinced. He had still problems recognizing his friend in the raging maniac he'd seen only minutes ago. "What happened?"

Angel glanced quickly at the spot where Riley had been standing just before, but his former friend was gone. Xander and Faith had led him quickly away to avoid any further confrontation. "It's not important."

Spike raised a brow at that, and so Buffy said, "He wanted to apologize, I think, but he touched me and I didn't... want it. So Angel pulled him away from me and then..." she shrugged, "the situation escalated from there."

"So I saw." Spike sighed, "You almost lost it there my friend," he told Angel with a serious face. "I wouldn't have liked to arrest you for the murder of filth."

The dark-haired man closed his eyes for a moment, "Sorry. He... he said things..." His hands were still shaky and he was grateful when Buffy took one of them. "I can't believe that's the person I once knew." He swallowed hard and shook his head as if he had to clear his mind.

Seeing Angel's distress Buffy gave Spike a quick sign and with a nod and a last look at his friend he walked away while Buffy was already pulling the other man into the women's bathroom.

Angel was following her without resistance and only when the door closed behind them he blinked, "It seems we end up in here a lot," he murmured.

Buffy smiled at his words, "Last time you had to hold me, today it's my turn," she said and slung her arms around his waist holding him close.

His arms came around her after only a short hesitation, "You shouldn't have to do this," he whispered against her ear, "What he said to you..." his voice trailed off, the pain clearly audible.

"Shhhh," she soothed, stroking his back, feeling a thrill of pleasure holding him, being held by him, despite the horrible scene with Riley before. "It's okay. I was surprised, that's all. He can't really hurt me anymore."

He raised his hand and took her chin between thumb and forefinger so that she had to look at him, "You sure?"

"Yes," she replied honestly and smiled. "You can only be hurt by people who mean something to you."

He was watching her face intently and finally he nodded, obviously satisfied with what he was seeing there. "How was your night?" he asked softly, the back of his fingers caressing her cheek, where the bruise Riley had caused was hidden under makeup.

"Okay," she told him. "After you left, I drank the tea you made for me, then I went to sleep. I'm alright, really."

"Good," he said, then bent down and kissed her forehead. "Will you be alright for the day?" he wanted to know, concern in his eyes.

"Yes," she assured him, touching his cheek with one hand. The emotions whirling through her this moment were so strong, so overwhelming. She felt so close to him, not just physically, but in every possible way. Remembering that they were still in the women's bathroom of the police station, she cleared her throat and straightened. "What are you going to do today?" she asked to change the subject.

Angel straightened as well. He pulled back and Buffy stifled a moan at the sudden loss of his warmth. "Well, there's still our date with Cordelia. She called me this morning, insisting again that you'd come with me."

"Oh?" Buffy raised a brow.

"Yeah. Spike and I complained we weren’t enough people to do the job, so they agreed we'd get some help." He suddenly grinned, "Seems my indiscretion brought you a new job."

Her eyes rounded, "What?"

"Yeah," was all he replied, an apologetic look in his eyes. "I should've kept my mouth shut. I'm sorry, I know how it feels to spy on friends and-"

Her fingers on his lips stopped him, "No need to apologize. It was the right thing to do. I'm glad you trusted me with it." She suddenly rolled her eyes, "Although, maybe I should amend that. The idea of Cordelia being my boss now..."

As a reply he grinned, "Pretty scary, huh? But we can suffer together." He reached for the door-handle, "How about we go tell Giles?"

She nodded, "Yeah, that'd be good."

*****

His eyes drifted to the lieutenant's office from time to time, what the hell were they doing with Giles, Riley thought. Ten minutes after he'd been pulled away from Angel, the dark-haired man and Buffy had entered Giles' office. That had been half an hour ago.

Were they telling him about what had happened in Buffy's apartment Friday night? Would they report him now? God, he should've known that she'd call Angel the moment he was out of the door. His former so-called friend was back for a week and he and Buffy were already attached at the hip. The way Angel had come to her rescue, the way Angel had looked at him, with murder in his eyes. Angel had been ready to kill him, for a moment Riley had seen it in the other man's eyes, the cold determination, that made him shiver even now.

Angel wasn't a violent person, he was usually the type who would try to talk and discuss things through, try to persuade people. Riley had often mocked him for being too soft, for still being a virgin when they'd started college all those years ago. He had felt good because as far as girls were concerned, Riley had the advantage.

But to Riley's amazement, Angel didn't care. He showed no intention to get even with his friend and when they'd left college and entered the Police Academy, Angel had only had two girlfriends, while Riley hadn't been quite as selective and in his senior year had developed a special taste for freshmen. There had been Darla then and Riley thought about the nice brunette Angel met for a while, but nothing more.

Where girls were concerned Angel was downright boring. Riley had never been able to understand why he hadn't used his position as quarterback of the college football team. The girls were throwing themselves at Angel, but he wouldn't even look. Riley once asked, and his friend had shrugged and told him that he wasn't interested in casual sex.

And then they met Buffy. They had been on an assignment and Buffy had worked at the same case. The attraction between Angel and her had been immediate and strong. The air crackled between them, and they weren't able to look anywhere but at each other. Within a week they were a couple, inseparable and deeply in love. So deep that neither of them noticed that Riley had been falling in love with her as well.

He'd known from the first moment that she was the one. The woman you met once in a lifetime, but she didn't look at him, not even once. Her eyes were on Angel, and only on Angel. Riley would never forget the pain slicing through him when Angel showed him the engagement ring he'd bought for Buffy and Riley knew that it was the end of his dreams, knew without a doubt that she would accept Angel's proposal.

Then Mike had died and everything changed. Riley had seen his opportunity in holding Buffy's hand when it was certain it had been Angel's weapon. She'd cried in his arms for days and then after an especially horrible day for her they ended up in bed. Two weeks later Buffy accepted his proposal and after another two weeks they were married. Riley didn't ask why, he didn't want to know. All he knew was that the woman of his dreams was finally his and that Angel was out of their lives, for what Riley believed had been for good.

Of course his luck never stayed for long, and now Angel was back, his wife was divorcing him and if he was guessing right they were destroying his career right this moment.

No, he thought, and pressed thumb and forefinger against his eyes, rubbing them roughly. They weren't destroying his career. He did that all by himself. Not just 48 hours ago when he'd lot it and tried to rape his wife, but two years ago when an accident had ended all his dreams forever.

But even knowing that, he found himself hoping they were talking about a completely different subject in Giles' office.

TBC...

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