"Dawn's Early Light"
Author: Deb Nockels
Email: Debnockels@aol.com
Disclaimer: The lyrics below are from "Didn't We Love?"
from the movie COYOTE UGLY, written by Tamara Walker, Tommy Lee James, &
Jennifer Kimball, and sung by Tamara Walker. I think it sets the mood perfectly.
Notes: The inspiration for this fic came from a scene in Cynamin's
excellent story "Phoenix", where Buffy had to be forcibly removed from the
police station when Kate insisted on jailing Angel. Thanks, Cynamin, for letting
me take your idea and put my own spin on it. And many, many thanks to Anja
for beta-reading this for me.
Quarter moon
Always makes me think of you
Are you thinking of me too
When you see it shine?
It's kind of sad
But I'm smiling; imagine that.
Cause we were lucky to have what we had
If only for a time
Didn't we set the nights on fire?
Did ever a flame burn any higher?
Wasn't it so sweet?
Wasn't it?
Didn't we love?
Isn't it bittersweet
Isn't it?
Didn't we love?
"That's murder!" Buffy pushed her way in front of Angel and yanked at the arm of the woman detective who'd not only arrested him but had just threatened him with sunlight. How did she know what Angel was, she wondered in a back corner of her mind?
Forced to halt in her headlong rush to book the vampire, Kate's eyes were cold. "Really? How can I murder someone who's already dead?" The policeman behind Angel gave her a look that suggested he couldn't believe what he'd just heard, but Kate ignored him, speaking directly to Buffy.
"I don't know who you are, lady, but I suggest that you let go of me this minute if you don't want to be run in for obstructing a police officer in the performance of her duty."
Buffy released her arm but stood her ground. Before she could reply, however, a movement in the room beyond caught her attention. Her eyes widened; at the same instant Angel drew in a quick, surprised (and totally unnecessary) breath. Kate spun around.
A young woman in her teens rose from the chair where she'd been sitting, turning to face the group who'd just entered, all equally dumbfounded at seeing her there in the police station when half the LAPD were out searching for her. It was Faith. Even though her hands were cuffed her dark eyes held a look of serenity Buffy couldn't remember ever seeing there before. "I've come to confess."
After a moment Kate rallied. "Right. Charteris, take her to the interrogation room, please. I'll be with you in a minute." As Faith and the remaining detective walked out she turned to the policeman holding Angel by one arm. The vampire's hands were also cuffed. "Serrano, take him to the holding cells. We'll book him in the morning." Her look at Angel held vicious triumph.
"What?" Buffy exclaimed as Angel looked sharply at Kate. "Why? You've got Faith now!"
Kate's expression didn't change. "He still knowingly harbored a fugitive."
"If he hadn't she'd be in Mexico by now and you know it! It's only because of Angel that Faith turned herself in. He talked her into it." Buffy didn't know this for a fact but she figured it was a safe assumption. What in the world was *with* this lady cop that she had such a grudge against Angel?
Kate shrugged. "Maybe. That'll be for the judge to decide. Tomorrow." She smiled. "Oh, Serrano, make sure they put him on the east side. I want him to be able to enjoy the sunrise."
Buffy's blood ran cold. "You can't do that; it'll kill him." She stared at Kate and realized from the look on her face that was exactly what she intended. The revelation brought her to her senses. Calmness descended like a mantle. She straightened.
"I'm not letting you lock Angel up to die." Her voice was quiet, flat. Any number of deceased vampires and other demon types could have told the police detective that this wasn't a good sign. The Slayer was ready for action.
Behind her Angel grew alert, also recognizing the danger. "Buffy, stop." He was ignored by both women.
"Is that right?" Kate's voice was soft, her faint smile chilling. "How do you propose to stop me?"
"Any way I have to," Buffy said simply. "This is your last warning."
Kate's eyes narrowed. "Take him," she said again to the cop.
Officer Serrano stirred uneasily. "Detective Lockley, if this guy really does have some kind of allergy to the sun -"
Kate turned her icy gaze on the officer. "Is there something wrong with your hearing, officer? I said take him downstairs."
At the menace in her tone the cop swallowed. "Yes, ma'am." He looked at Buffy apologetically. "The detective says take him, I hafta take him. Let's go." He tugged on his prisoner's arm.
Not budging, Angel stared at Kate. "Kate, what the hell is all this about? After all the times we helped each other, why are you doing this?"
Kate transferred her glare to him. "Because your kind killed my father." Again the policeman gave her a baffled look.
For the first time Angel showed signs of anger. " 'My kind.' You know, I'm more than a little sick of hearing that, Kate. If you remember, I was the one who tried to save your father. Not to mention that I helped you find the ones who did kill him."
"Serrano!" Kate glared at the young cop, who shook his head with disapproval and once more pulled on Angel, this time more forcefully. There was a blur of motion from Buffy, and Serrano went flying through the air, landing with a grunt on his back a good thirty feet away from his prisoner. He slid into the wall at the end of the corridor, hitting it with a loud thump, and stayed there, shaking his head, dazed.
Kate gaped in disbelief, then belatedly snatched at her gun. Before she could aim it, Buffy grabbed it out of her hand. Staring Kate straight in the eyes she bent the muzzle until it turned at a right angle, then tossed the gun onto a nearby desk. Kate's jaw dropped even more.
"I told you I wouldn't let you kill him," Buffy said to the stunned detective. Going to Angel she grabbed his wrists and with one hard jerk snapped the links between the handcuffs.
"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
"I think I'm getting you out of here before Psycho Cop over there turns you into toast," Buffy replied, rather heatedly.
Angel stayed put. "Buffy, this is crazy. We're in a police station! There are video cameras everywhere! This place will be swarming with cops any minute now." For the first time Buffy noticed the security cameras bolted into the walls. Her heart sank.
Kate had been edging over toward the nearest desk. Yanking at the drawer she grabbed at the gun inside. At the sound, Buffy whirled to face her, but it was too late. Kate had the gun and was aiming it right at her.
"Put your hands behind your heads!" she yelled. "Both of you!" Buffy glared at her then reluctantly obeyed. With a loud sigh of exasperation Angel did the same. Kate raised her voice. "Okay, guys. You can come in now."
Buffy peered over her shoulder as at least six cops entered the hallway, guns at the ready. Two came over to her, one of them holding a gun on her while the other cuffed her hands behind her back. The same was being done to Angel.
Kate walked up. "I don't know who or what you are, but you just made a big mistake, Muffy or Buffy or whatever the name is. Assault of a police officer - two police officers, in fact." She stared at the young Slayer coldly. "Big trouble."
Buffy remained silent as she and Angel were led down a short flight of stairs and through several corridors to the jail. Kate followed behind. As the convoy entered the holding tank she looked around at the empty cells. "There's no one here?"
The guard shook his head in bafflement. "Hard to believe, isn't it? The last group was transferred less than an hour ago. I'm enjoying it while I can; it sure as hell won't last long."
The first cell was unlocked, and after his cuffs were removed Angel was pushed inside. When the guard started to close the door Kate stopped him. "Put her in too."
The man frowned. "You know that's against regulations. Men and women can't be in the same cell."
"Do it," Kate replied. "Tomorrow morning you can separate them. If you need to." She laughed a little, and Buffy clenched her teeth against the emotion surging through her. The fury she cherished for Faith paled in comparison to the utter hatred she now felt for this woman.
She glanced at the convoy of cops guarding them and knew there was no way she could get Angel out of this place alive. Tears threatened, but she refused to break down in front of that woman. Angel stood in the middle of the cell, his gaze still fixed on Kate. His dark eyes were unreadable, but his stance was one of dignified challenge, not pleading. Even in prison, with the strain of the past hours visible on his face, he radiated strength and - well - nobility. There was no other word for it, Buffy thought, swallowing the lump in her throat.
Buffy didn't say a word as her cuffs were removed and she entered the cell, wrinkling her nose involuntarily at the faint but lingering miasma of sweat, urine, and disinfectant. Several feet above her, long rectangles of dark sky were revealed in the windows of each cell. She estimated there were about five on each side of the large room. The door clanged shut behind her and their guards left. Except for one.
Kate lingered after the others were gone. Her cold, angry gaze went from Angel to Buffy, where it lingered a moment with speculation, and back again. "Sunrise is in about three hours. When the sun comes up it shines straight in through these windows. The prisoners are always complaining about it because it wakes them up."
Her fingers, hooked through the belt loops, beat a faint tattoo on the worn leather. "I think I'll come back and watch it with you. I think I'd enjoy that a lot."
"Aren't we allowed a phone call?" Buffy asked, her voice even.
Kate shook her head. "You're not under arrest yet. By law we can hold you for twenty-four hours before making a charge. Of course, for your vampire friend the whole question will be moot, won't it?" Then, grinning, she too left.
As her footsteps faded and the thud of the outside door sounded, Buffy looked at Angel. "What is her trauma?" Her hair clip had fallen out at some point that night, and she smoothed the untidy strands back with her hands.
"It's a long story." Angel glared at her. "What the hell were you thinking, Buffy?"
Buffy stiffened; suddenly the urge to cry wasn't nearly as hard to resist. "I wasn't thinking. I just had to try to get you out of there."
"Out of the middle of a police station with maybe a hundred cops around?" Angel was still angry. "Do you know how lucky you are that you didn't get shot? You could have been killed."
She glared at him, then pointedly withdrew her gaze without answering. Going over to the door she gave it a shake - or tried to. There was very little "give" in the massive lock. Experimentally she tried to pull the bars apart, with no success. They were too heavy. Turning, she tilted her head to study the window, and saw what she had expected: the glass in it was not only very thick, it was heavily reinforced with wires throughout, impossible to break.
"Buffy." Angel came up beside her. Ignoring the fluttering of her stomach that always attended his close proximity, she also ignored him and went back to examine the cell door again. He followed. "Buffy, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I know you were only trying to help."
Her anger at him faded in an instant, replaced by bitterness. "For all the good I've been here I might as well have stayed home. I come to warn you about Faith, and find you giving her hug therapy. I try to help you escape from Psycho Lady and end up getting you arrested." Buffy rested her head against the bars and closed her eyes.
Angel took her by the shoulders and gently turned her to face him. "I was already under arrest," he reminded her. "And without your help the Council assassins would have Faith now. I leave you to guess whether they would have actually taken her to England or whether they'd have just put a bullet through her head."
"If you're expecting me to feel sorry for her, you can think again," Buffy snapped. "I hope she rots in prison for the rest of her life. Do you have any idea what she did to me this time, Angel?" She looked him in the eye. "Do you even care?"
"I care," he replied quietly. And he did; she could read it in his eyes.
The anger she'd been holding onto since walking into Angel's apartment and seeing Faith there, being comforted by him, spilled out. "She switched bodies with me. She became me, and I was first arrested by the police and then captured by those Council goons because everyone thought I was Faith. She was wearing my clothes and living in my house and sleeping with my boyfriend!" The last words were shouted, and with them came the tears.
Angel said nothing, only held her while she cried out her rage and bitterness toward the rogue Slayer. "I'm sorry," she sniffled, after a time. "I didn't mean for you to find out that way. About Riley, I mean."
Angel dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. "I already knew." His voice was flat.
"You did?" Mopping at her nose, Buffy raised her head to see his face. "How?"
"Faith accidentally let it slip."
Buffy gritted her teeth. "Sure it was an accident. She did it deliberately." Folding the handkerchief, she stuck it in her back pocket.
"Buffy, you weren't there. I was." The firmness of his tone surprised Buffy. "It was an accident. She thought I already knew about - Riley." He released her and took a couple of steps back. "I'm - I'm glad you've found someone to have a normal relationship with."
If the lack of conviction in his voice hadn't already told Buffy that his heart wasn't in his words, the way he avoided her eyes was a dead giveaway. "Well," she said after a moment's deliberation, "I guess that depends on what your definition of normal is. Riley's a demon hunter too."
"What?" Angel looked aghast. "Buffy, I didn't leave so you could hook up with another demon killer!"
That did it. "Excuse me?" She took a step toward him; something flickered in his eyes. "So now I'm supposed to get your permission? What did you want me to do, drag guys over here so you could look them over first and decide whether or not they were *normal* enough? Like hell!"
Buffy was seething. "I've got a news flash for you, Angel. You lost the right to interfere in my life the night you walked out of it!"
"I know." The admission was so quiet Buffy wasn't sure she'd heard it. "I'm sorry. I had no right to say that. You've found someone else to - " Angel stumbled over the word. "You've found someone else. That's... good. I'm sure he's a nice person."
"Yes, he is." Buffy refused to calm down. "And he doesn't lie to me either."
"What do you mean?" Angel gave her a blank look. "I never lied to you."
"Oh, really? How many times did you tell me that we'd make it work? What about this whole 'leaving me so I can have a normal relationship' garbage?"
"That wasn't a lie," Angel was quick to say. "It's the truth."
Buffy took a deep breath. "Bull. That was just an excuse; it's not why you left. You left because you were afraid of losing your soul again."
Angel ignored that. "Buffy, you deserve to have - "
She cut him off with a yell. "Aahhh! I am so sick of hearing that! Just how normal a life do you think a Slayer can have, Angel? Most of us don't live to see our twenty-fifth birthday! How many 'normal' guys do you think want to have a relationship with someone who shows up for a date covered in vampire dust or demon goo? Damn few of them, I can tell you!"
Advancing on him, Buffy continued her attack. Angel backed away, a shocked expression on his face. "You were afraid you'd lose your soul again and go evil. Do you think I don't understand that, Angel? No one wants to see Angelus back. Of course you were afraid; so was I. But you just couldn't admit that, could you?"
Tears shone in her eyes. Angel stood gawking at her, nonplused. "No. Instead you came up with this excuse of leaving so I could have a 'normal' life. That sounded a whole lot better, didn't it? Instead of being scared, you were being noble and self-sacrificing."
Her tone turned saccharine. " 'Poor Angel,' everybody said. 'He's given up the only girl he ever loved so she could have a normal life, even though he can never be happy without her'."
"What a crock." Buffy had Angel backed into a corner. She stabbed a finger at his chest. "Admit it, Angel. For once tell the truth and admit that you left Sunnydale because you were scared to stay with me." She glared up at him.
Angel looked suddenly haggard, his eyes dark and haunted. "I was terrified," he whispered. "Buffy, I remember every last, tiny detail of what I did to you, and Giles, and Willow. And Jenny.
"If I'd stayed in Sunnydale it would have happened again." His voice shook with emotion. "I love you so much, Buffy, and it was killing me. I'd look at you and start to feel happy - and then the memories would come crashing down. I couldn't take it anymore."
Suddenly his eyes bored into hers. "You felt it too; I know you did. Every time we kissed or held each other, I could see it in your eyes - the fear, the questions: Will this moment be the one that's too happy? Will the demon be set free this time?"
"Yes," Buffy admitted, quiet again. "I told you I understood your fear, that I shared it. But do you have any idea how it felt to have you tell me that you were leaving because it was better for *me* that way - how demeaning that was, like I couldn't possibly understand that the risk for you was too great if you stayed? That's what hurt the most, Angel. You treated me like a stupid little schoolgirl... like a child."
Angel swallowed. "I'm sorry. I was afraid that... that if you begged me to stay I wouldn't be able to leave." He looked away, taking a deep breath. "But it worked out for the best, didn't it? If I hadn't left, you wouldn't have found - Riley."
As before, he faltered over the name. "Now you can fall asleep in the arms of your normal boyfriend, just like you always dreamed of doing. Just like a normal girl." His voice cracked and abruptly he shouldered his way past her.
After a moment Buffy followed him to the door, where he stood with hunched shoulders, hands clenched tight on the bars. "You know," she told him softly, "I've learned a lot this year, since you left. I learned that it's possible to go on with your life even though you're hurting so much you feel like you can't breathe. I learned that it's terribly easy to forget how important your friends are. But one of the most important things I found out is that normal is way overrated."
Angel turned his head slowly; his eyes searched her face. She continued, "I like Riley, yes. He's a really nice, decent guy, with a great sense of humor. And I think maybe he loves me." She sighed. "But how could you think for one minute that he's replaced you in my heart?
"Don't you know that I love you? That I will always love you?"
"Really?" Angel asked, and Buffy would have smiled if he hadn't sounded so lost and vulnerable. As it was, the simple, childish question brought moisture to her eyes.
"Why is that so hard to believe, Angel?" she asked gently.
He made no reply, only shook his head helplessly, his eyes tormented yet slowly filling with hope. Slowly he straightened up, turning to face her. Buffy walked into his arms; as they folded around her it felt like coming home again. "Buffy." His deep, shuddering sigh ruffled her hair; he spoke in a broken whisper. "God. I've missed you so much."
"Me too," she replied, simply, and closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his solid body against hers. It had been so long.
They stood like that for long minutes, motionless, locked together in a close embrace. Remembering. Renewing. Finally Angel stirred and his arms loosened their hold on her. Buffy looked up. Their eyes met. "I love you," Angel said.
"I love you."
He bent toward her and Buffy rose on tiptoe. Their lips met. After so long a separation, their kisses were soft and gentle, even tentative; but even so it didn't take more than a couple of minutes for their long-banked passion to begin smoldering anew. Buffy felt its warmth rising through her, felt it too in Angel, in the increased pressure of his lips and arms, and in the yielding of his body as it molded against her.
They drew apart. Even now, Buffy realized with impotent fury (and knew Angel shared it), now, in what might be their last few hours together, they had to be wary of expressing their love. Angelus could still make an appearance and spend the last few moments of his existence making her life hell. Or doing his best to end it.
She suppressed a sob. "Angel, we've got to do something. Maybe we can break the window somehow." She looked around the cell, went over to the bench bisecting one wall and began examining it. "Damn, it's bolted to the wall." She pushed down on the long seat with all her strength, trying to break it off, to no avail.
"I know," said Angel quietly. "I checked it out earlier."
"Maybe if we both try, together, we can break it free." When Angel didn't respond she turned on him fiercely. "At least try! Or do you *want* to get toasted?"
"Buffy. Maybe together we could get the bench free, and then maybe together we could break the window with it." He indicated a security camera. "But what do you think the guard is going to do while all this is going on? Just sit there playing cards?" Before she could respond, he added, "No, he'll call for backup, and long before we could escape he'd be in here with his gun drawn. Buffy, I don't want you to get hurt because of me, not ever again."
Buffy gazed wildly at the camera, then at Angel. "And I don't want you to get dead!" Sobs choked her throat. Angel wrapped his arms around her, then lifted her and carried her over to the bench and sat down, holding her as she cried. His shirt grew wet from her tears and still she wept. At long last Buffy sobbed herself out, resting limply against his chest, feeling hollow inside.
For a long time they just sat there, holding each other, talking occasionally of past events... remembering... but just as often simply cuddling in silence and trying not to think of the coming dawn.
"Angel," Buffy finally said. "There's something I have to know." He cocked his head inquiringly. "The night that we - " Her voice faded, and she stopped to clear her throat. "- that we made love. My birthday." She grimaced to herself. Like she needed to remind Angel which night it was.
Angel pressed a kiss on the top of her head. "Yes?"
"The next day, when I went back to the apartment, *he* was there. Angelus." Busily smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle out of his shirt, Buffy missed the spasm of anguish that crossed Angel's face. "He... uh... he said some things about... that night.
Angel put his finger under Buffy's chin and gently tilted her head up, but Buffy refused to meet his gaze. "Buffy, look at me. Please." Slowly, reluctantly she did so.
"Buffy, what I said that day - "
Buffy stopped him with her finger on his lips. "What *he* said. It wasn't you, Angel; I know that."
Angel skirted around that point. "Everything that was said the next day was a lie, Buffy. I wanted to hurt - " At her mock-threatening gesture he smiled faintly and capitulated. "Okay. *He* wanted to hurt you, and he knew how to do it."
She nodded, her face clouding with the recollection of Angelus' mocking words. ("Like I'd want to hang around after *that*." "You were great. Really. I thought you were a pro.") "Yes," she agreed somberly. "He knew."
"Buffy, that night with you was the most beautiful night of my life." His eyes filled with tears; Buffy brushed them away. "I'll never forget it, not because of what happened afterward - but because we were together."
"I was so scared." Her smile was tremulous.
"So was I," admitted Angel. Buffy was so surprised she pulled away so she could see his face. "What? Why would you be scared?"
"Because I'd never made love to anyone before," he told her softly, with simple truth.
Buffy frowned, puzzled. "But - "
He interrupted. "I've had sex with a lot of women, Buffy, before I met you, but that's all it was: just sex. I never knew what it was to make *love* with someone, until we were together."
It was Buffy's turn to have tears wiped away. "Thank you," she whispered. They kissed again, longingly. "How much time do we have?" she asked quietly, her head on his shoulder. She was afraid to look at the window behind her; afraid that the rectangle would no longer be dark but lightening to an ominous blue... the first harbinger of the dawn.
"About an hour and a half," was all he said.
Buffy shuddered. "This can't be happening. Why does that woman hate you so much, Angel? What happened to her father?".
A sad, weary look appeared on Angel's face. "Kate's father was a cop too; he retired last year. Kate idolized him. Shortly after Kate found out I was a vampire our paths crossed on a case she was investigating that turned out to involve demons. She's... having trouble with the vampire thing."
Buffy laughed shortly. "No joke. Tell me something that's not obvious. But what turned her into Ms. Psycho Bitch? Or was she always like that? Excuse me, I need to stretch my legs a bit." Giving Angel a quick kiss, she got off his lap, and began walking around the cell.
"No." Angel rested his head against the wall, staring into space. "She's always been aggressive and blunt, but she was basically a good person as well as a good cop. It was her father's death that sent her over the edge."
Looking at his sorrowful expression, Buffy recalled the words Angel had spoken earlier that night to Kate. "He was killed by vamps, wasn't he?" Angel nodded. "And she blames you." Again he nodded. Buffy frowned. "But why? She has to know that you're different, that you had nothing to do with his death. And didn't you say that you had helped her hunt down the vamps that did kill him?"
"I was there when her father was killed," Angel sighed. "I'd found out that he was involved in an illegal operation that was being run by demons, so I called Kate to let her know he was in danger and then I went to warn her father. The vampires were in his apartment when I got there. I begged him to invite me in... but he wouldn't. They drained him right in front of my eyes, and escaped out the window before he was quite dead."
Buffy nodded slowly in realization. "And you couldn't enter uninvited until he *was* dead. So I'm guessing Kate showed up just after it all happened?"
A third nod from Angel. "She knows I wasn't the one who caused her father's death, but..." He shrugged wearily. "She hadn't been very fond of me ever since finding out what I am, but since that night she's hated me."
Buffy sat on the floor in front of him to do some stretching exercises. "So she's really gone completely wacko - Ohmigod!"
At her screech, Angel jerked upright. "*What*?" He looked around wildly.
Buffy scooted away as fast as she could. "There's a cockroach the size of a pit bull under there!"
"A - roach?" Angel stared at her, then, closing his eyes briefly, leaned over and gazed under the seat. "Where?"
Buffy pointed. "There! Right below where you're sitting." Hurriedly she removed one of her shoes. Getting to her feet in case she needed to make a fast getaway, she crept over and -
*Splat!*
"Got him!" she declared with satisfaction, getting up and scraping the mangled corpse off her shoe onto the opposite wall.
"I'm glad," Angel said dryly. Then, as she returned and continued to peer beneath him, added, "Now what are you doing?"
"I'm seeing if there are any more," she stated, giving him a "Duh" look. "There could be an army of them hidden - " She stopped abruptly.
"What?" asked Angel when she didn't continue. "Did you find more?"
"Angel." Buffy stared at him wide-eyed. "I have an idea how to protect you from the sun." She nodded at the space beneath the bench. "When it starts coming up, you get under there next to the wall.
Instantly Angel joined her on the floor, squinting at the space below. "I don't know; there's not much room." He sounded doubtful.
Buffy gave an exasperated sigh. "You have to. It's the only way. Come on, try it on for size."
Angel lay down on his back and scooted underneath the bench. It wasn't very deep and a significant portion of him remained unprotected by the overhang. "Try lying on your side," Buffy suggested, "and scrunch up as close as you can to the wall."
Angel complied, not without difficulty. "It's a tight fit," he gasped, "but I can do it." He blinked as Buffy unexpectedly joined him in the confined space. Her more petite form allowed her to snuggle comfortably against him..
"See?" she said triumphantly. "I can lie in front of you and block any stray rays."
They struggled out and Angel instantly caught Buffy up in a bear hug, heedless of the dust covering them both.. "Buffy, you're amazing. It'll work!"
"And if you take your coat off you'll have a bit more room and won't feel so squashed!" Buffy pulled his head down and proceeded to kiss him with great enthusiasm, which he fully returned.
God, it was like heaven being with him again, holding him, kissing him. She'd forgotten the fire his cool lips could ignite in her; a fire that Riley couldn't begin to inspire, even though she'd always enjoyed having sex with him. Well, almost always. Angel's tongue brushed hers, and she gasped at the spark that swept through her in response. She pressed closer, then suddenly snapped to her senses.
"Angel, stop!" she gasped. "Don't get too happy!"
He groaned, and she realized he was actually breathing... hard, deep gasps. "Angel?" She stepped back, confused. "What...?"
"It focuses my mind," he gasped, "because I have to consciously think about doing it. Breathing's not easy when it isn't a reflex. And that takes my mind off... other things." The deep breaths slowed.
"Like me," Buffy gave him an impish grin, euphoric now that their immediate problem had been solved. They weren't out of the woods yet, she knew that. Kate no doubt had other unpleasant experiences planned for them, but they'd cross that bridge when they came to it. She looked down at the shoe she'd dropped and maneuvered it with her toes until it was the right way up.
"Like you," Angel agreed huskily. "Like wanting to hold you and kiss you and caress you until you're dripping wet." Buffy's mouth dropped open; the foot she'd been ready to insert back into its shoe remained frozen in place above it. "Like wanting to bury myself in you and make love with you until we're both exhausted. Like never wanting to be apart from you again - "
He stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry."
Buffy blinked back tears. "It's okay," she said, although her throat was aching - and her heart. "I feel the same way. But, please, let's not go there right now. There'll be plenty of time later for... angsty stuff. Right now let's just celebrate that we've outsmarted Psycho Cop." Looking down, she thrust her foot into the shoe as if it were Kate's face. Firmly and without hesitation.
Angel managed a smile, of sorts. "Right. So..."
"So..." Buffy cleared her throat.
"Why don't you... uh... fill me in on the Sunnydale gossip," Angel suggested.
"Right. Uh...." Buffy wracked her brains, trying to ignore the clamor of her body and the pain threatening to overwhelm her, trying to remember some gossip. "Oh, I know! You'll never guess who Willow's dating now - it's a girl. Her name is Tara."
Angel blinked. "Willow has a girlfriend? What happened to Oz? I really thought they would last."
"Yeah, so did I. So did Willow and Oz, for that matter." Buffy wandered aimlessly around the cell; Angel returned to the bench and sat down. "But something happened last fall; it was really sad."
She briefly told him of their encounter with the female werewolf and how it ended with Oz believing he had to understand his wolf nature better. "I don't know; I guess he was afraid he'd end up like Veruca, or something. Anyway, he decided the only way to find himself was to go away - alone, of course."
She shot him a glance slightly tinged with resentment. "Must be a guy thing."
"Buffy," Angel said patiently.
"Sorry," she mumbled. After a moment's struggle with her emotions, she went on, "Willow met this girl, Tara, who's also a witch. They fell in love." She shrugged, a "that's all" gesture.
"I see." Angel digested that for a bit, then gave her a pretend-wary look. "I'm almost afraid to ask about Xander and Giles."
Buffy chuckled a bit in spite of herself. "Xander is... Xander. He and Anya are still together. You met Anya when you were there at Thanksgiving, didn't you?"
Angel's mouth curled up on one side, remembering. "I certainly did. She said I was 'large and glowery'."
Buffy laughed outright. "Well, she got that right anyway. Yeah, that's our former vengeance demon, all hormones and even less tact than Cordelia." She paused. "Speaking of Queen C, how is she these days? And Wesley - I couldn't believe it when I heard he was part of your group."
"Wesley's changed a lot," said Angel. Buffy nodded. "I could tell," she agreed. "The Wesley I knew would never have fought against those assassins like that - well, not without hurting himself more than he did them, anyway."
"He's a valuable member of the team. So is Cordelia."
Buffy's brows went up. "Has she changed too? I hope."
"She's different now," Angel nodded. "But I think it's more that she's finally letting out the softer, gentler side of her that she always kept hidden before."
Buffy nodded also. "Yeah, every once in a while we'd catch a glimpse that there was more to Cordy than just being a bitca." Angel smiled at this unexpected example of Scooby-speak, and Buffy came over and sat down beside him. A rather awkward silence followed, as each tried to repress their rising emotions.
Suddenly Angel slid down onto the floor, kneeling before Buffy. Without even thinking she made room for him between her legs. He put his arms around her, his face burrowing into her neck, and she held him close. "I love you," he murmured, his breath cold against her skin. He tightened his arms until she could hardly breathe.
Her heart ached. "I know. I love you, Angel."
"When you walked into my apartment this evening, all I could think about was how beautiful you are, and how much I've missed you." His lips touched her neck.
Buffy swallowed. "When I saw you, even though I was totally in shock because of Faith, I had to fight not to go over to you and throw myself in your arms. It's like that every time I see you, Angel." Then, after a short silence, she whispered, "The sky's getting lighter." She felt his head nodding.
"False dawn," he mumbled, his voice muffled.
"But the sun will come up soon," she persisted.
He raised his head. "Not for a while yet. We have a few minutes." The look on his face told her what he wanted to do during that short time.
"Angel," she whispered, clinging to his shoulders, suddenly fearful again. "This is going to work, isn't it? The bench?"
"It'll work," Angel said firmly, cupping her head with his hands. She knew then that he shared her apprehension that, somehow, something would go wrong. The oblong of the window was now gray.
"Angel..." Her voice trembled just a little.
"Yes." Angel got to his feet and pulled her to hers. She helped him take off his long duster and, folding it, placed it on the seat.
"Okay," she began, but suddenly Angel pulled her into his arms and kissed her, hard, almost with desperation. She returned his kiss, on the verge of tears, then broke away. "Now, Angel," she gasped, staring beseechingly into his eyes.
He nodded silently, and released her, dropping to his knees.
"I don't think so," drawled a familiar voice. Buffy stared in disbelief. Unheard by either of them, Kate had entered the holding tank and was casually leaning against the cell across from theirs. Her gun was drawn, and it was pointed right at Buffy.
The blonde detective smiled. "Thought you had it figured out, didn't you? No way, Angel. You're not escaping your fate. You make one move to get under that bench and your sickening little girlfriend here gets it."
"Don't listen to her, Angel," Buffy insisted. She threw a panicked glance at the window, where the sky now displayed a pearly cast.
"Aren't you the noble one?" Kate's face hardened. "I've been watching you two on the security monitor. Looks like you have quite a history together." Her lips worked as she glared at Buffy. "In love with a vampire. That is so disgusting. I suppose you've even slept with him."
"That's none of your business," Buffy said quietly, moving to place herself in front of her lover. "Angel, get under the seat."
Kate waggled the gun. "Don't do it, Angel. Not unless you want her full of holes. Oh, I won't kill her. Not right away, at least. No, the first shot will be the left kneecap, I think. Very painful, as I'm sure you know. Then the right knee..."
"Stop." Angel's voice was tight, his face as hard as Kate's. "You win, Kate." A few rosy streaks were beginning to show in the window. Buffy whirled toward him, but he silenced her furious protest. "Buffy, I'm not going to let you get hurt by this nutcase."
"No!" Buffy threw herself at Angel, clinging to him desperately, sobbing out loud. Choking back his own sobs, Angel gave her one last kiss then disengaged himself, thrusting her away from him so roughly that she fell to the floor.
"That's right," purred Kate. "Damn, I wish I'd brought my video camera. Ah, the sun's almost up."
Angel looked at Buffy through a film of tears. "I'm sorry. Tell Cordelia and Wesley goodbye, and that I thank them for being there for me. I love you, Buffy. I never stopped loving you, not for one second." Kate's lip curled back in a sneer.
"No!" As Buffy scrambled to her feet the room grew suddenly black as midnight. Three sets of eyes flew to the window of their cell, Kate straightening with a jerk. The brightening patch of sky was gone; in its place, dark gray storm clouds swirled past the opening. Outside, lightning flashed, followed a second later by the loud crack of thunder.
Kate gaped, the gun in her hand drooping. "That's not possible. There wasn't a cloud in the sky!"
Buffy stared at the storm, then looked at Angel, recalling a certain Christmas two years ago. "Déja vu."
"All over again," Angel nodded.
"Only then it was a snowstorm." Her words were unsteady.
"Well, it *was* winter," Angel reminded her faintly. He was as dazed as Buffy.
She nodded slowly. "Right. And now it's spring, so of course it would be rain and not snow. Although if the PTB wanted to make a really dramatic statement, snow would have been my suggestion. Some people need to be hit over the head before they can see the obvious," glancing at Kate.
The detective was still standing there, staring from one window to another, as if unable to believe her eyes. The hand holding the gun dangled loosely at her side.
"Ahem!" Buffy cleared her throat loudly. Kate was oblivious. "Detective Lockley!" she called, with more volume. Kate blinked then slowly focused on her.
"You might as well put your gun away," Buffy told her. "There won't be any sun today. Not as long as Angel is in this cell, anyway."
Kate shook her head violently. "Who are you?" she rasped, bringing the gun up again to bear on Buffy. "*What* are you?" She backed away until she hit the cell door behind her. Her eyes were wild, the whites showing. "How did you do that?"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh please. It wasn't me. Don't you believe in a Higher Power?" She saw with alarm that the gun was shaking in Kate's hand.
"Detective Lockley!"
Buffy started, as did Angel. Kate's head snapped around. The voice had come from the open door to the holding area, where a tall, rather husky man of middle age was standing. His short, dark hair was flecked with gray, and he exuded authority.
"Captain," faltered Kate, "what are you doing here?"
He advanced a couple of steps into the room. "I think a better question, Detective, is what are you doing here? I sincerely hope you have a good explanation for why you're threatening these inmates with your gun."
"Sir, these two are extremely dangerous."
The captain didn't look impressed. "They were searched, according to procedure?"
"Of course, sir."
"So neither one of them is now carrying a weapon of any kind?" Angel and Buffy stood motionless under his scrutiny.
Kate hesitated.
"Detective?" The captain's voice cut like a whip. She started. "No, sir," she admitted.
"In that case, Detective, I suggest you hand over your weapon." When Kate didn't immediately comply, his voice hardened. "*Now*, Lockley!"
Kate swallowed audibly. "Yes, sir." With hands that trembled she lowered her arms. The captain held out his hand. She reversed the gun, walked over to him, and gave it to him. There was a policeman behind him, Buffy now noticed. She recognized the young cop who had tried to argue that Angel shouldn't be arrested. Serrano, that was his name.
The captain turned back to Kate, his face unreadable. "Now, Detective, I would like to hear your explanation as to why these two are in here in the first place. There doesn't seem to be any paperwork on them."
"Captain, the man admitted to harboring a known felon. In addition he resisted arrest. The girl aided and abetted him."
Buffy started to protest, but Angel placed his hand on her arm and shook his head. "Wait," he breathed.
"Did you Mirandize them?"
"Of course I did," Kate declared.
"No," Angel and Buffy said in unison.
The captain regarded them for a moment then turned to the cop. "Serrano, I believe you were present when these two were taken into custody?" Serrano nodded. "Did you hear the detective read them their rights?"
The young man wet his lips, casting a nervous glance at Kate. "No, sir."
The captain nodded as if unsurprised. His eyes turned again to Kate. "As I understand it, Lockley, this man, Angel, was instrumental in persuading the fugitive, Faith, to turn herself in. Is that correct?"
"That's what he claims, yes," muttered Kate, sending Angel a sullen glance.
"So does Faith," the captain stated baldly. "She has also stated that the disturbance last night was instigated by someone out for revenge against her, and that these two acted only in defense of their lives, as well as hers; that at no time did they fire any weapons; that, in fact, they had no weapons in their possession at all. Is this true?"
"I... don't know, sir." Kate was beginning to have the glazed look of a deer frozen by the headlights of an oncoming car.
"Did you find any weapons on them? Have any witnesses come forth to claim that they *were* armed? Have you even *looked* for witnesses?" The captain shot his questions at her like arrows. Kate didn't answer, only looked at him dumbly.
"Captain." It was Angel. Buffy heaved a mental sigh of exasperation; she just knew what he was going to say. Sure enough: "You know that Detective Lockley recently lost her father under tragic circumstances. You must also be aware that she refused to take any leave of absence from her duties."
"I'm aware of that, yes," the captain replied, looking keenly at Angel.
"I'm sure that her irrational behavior tonight is due to a delayed reaction to the shock of her father's death. She needs rest and professional help."
The captain nodded shortly. "You took the words out of my mouth, young man. Detective Lockley, consider yourself on medical leave until further notice. I want official notification within forty-eight hours that you have sought professional help, or you will be suspended. Is that clear?"
Kate nodded silently. The captain eyed her then said, "Serrano, find someone to take her home. Detective, you are not to drive, do you understand? Later this afternoon, if you are feeling better, you may return for your car."
Kate nodded again, then walked out of the room without a word or backward look, moving like a zombie. Serrano followed her a wary distance behind. The captain called for the guard and ordered him to open the cell door. When Buffy and Angel were free he looked at them. "On behalf of the LAPD, I sincerely apologize to you both. I suppose I'll be hearing from your attorneys." He sighed.
Angel shook his head. "No attorneys, and no apology is needed, Captain. I just hope Kate gets help. You need good people like her." Buffy pursed her lips, but remained silent.
"Yes," the captain agreed. He paused, as if about to add something, but apparently thought better of it. He apologized again and showed them the way out.
Minutes later they stood outside the police station, getting drenched. "Angel!" someone shouted. "Over here!" Squinting through the driving rain, Buffy recognized Wesley, waving to them a short distance away. He was standing next to Angel's convertible; luckily, the top was up. An umbrella protected him somewhat from the downpour.
They sprinted for the car, Angel moving toward the driver's side. Wesley opened his mouth, but Angel merely looked at him and he subsided. Sighing, he got into the back and Angel took the driver's seat.
Buffy surveyed herself. "I don't know why we bothered to run," she said ruefully. "We couldn't possibly get any wetter than we are right now." The motor purred into life. Angel checked behind them and pulled out into the traffic, which was already beginning to pick up, despite the downpour and the early hour.
"There is a certain drowned-rat quality to you both," Wesley agreed. "Would you care to tell me what happened to cause this storm to appear out of literally nowhere? Because I refuse to believe it was a coincidence."
"Not," admitted Buffy. "Angel was about to get fried by the sunrise, thanks to Wacko Kate. Apparently the PTB didn't approve of her little plan."
Wesley blinked as Angel turned a corner. "An admirably succinct account, Buffy, but hardly informative. Would you please elaborate?"
Buffy yawned, all of a sudden ready to drop from fatigue. "I'll let Angel do the honors, Wes. I'm really tired." As she rested her head against the seat and closed her eyes, she heard Angel's voice beginning to recount their ordeal, but then it faded away.
"Buffy, wake up. We're here." Buffy opened her eyes. Angel was turned toward her, touching her arm. Blearily she looked out the window and recognized Angel's building. Then, with a shock that jerked her fully awake, she realized the storm was dissipating fast. Really fast. "Angel, the sun!"
Angel took one look. "Damn!" He scrambled awkwardly out of his coat, pulling it out from beneath him, then positioned it over his head and reached for his door handle. Light was already breaking through the rapidly vanishing clouds. The wet sidewalks gleamed.
"Wait!" Buffy stopped him. "Wes, get out here and open the umbrella. Angel, get out on my side. You'll get less exposure that way."
"Good thinking," approved Wesley. In a flash he and Buffy were out of the car, and Wesley positioned himself outside her door. As Angel slid across the seat Wesley got the umbrella open and ready, and ten seconds later the three were inside the building.
"Are you all right?" asked Buffy anxiously. Little wisps of smoke drifted upward from Angel's coat. He removed it, giving it a little shake. "I'm fine. See?" He turned around, allowing her to inspect him, then smiled. "No worse than a sunburn."
Buffy gave him a look. "Ha, ha." She heaved a sigh of relief, then wrinkled her nose. "I don't know about you, Angel, but I can't wait to get rid of this Eau du Prison smell. May I use your shower?"
Fifteen minutes, three head-to-toe scrubbings, and two shampooings later, Buffy decided she might finally be rid of the pervasive odor. Leaning her hands against the tiled wall she stood under the streaming water, letting the hot spray wash away the tension. Well, a portion of it, at least.
She knew better than to expect a fairy tale solution for Angel and her, despite the Powers' timely, not to mention theatrical, intervention that morning. Their relationship had never run smoothly, despite their love, and she had no reason to believe it ever would. But for now she deliberately pushed away all thoughts of the future, and just luxuriated in the warmth of the water and of finally feeling clean again.
"I gotta say, that Angel is one lucky man."
Buffy shrieked and whirled around, her heart thumping. A young man stood there, leaning against the sink, shaking his head admiringly. His thin, humorous face and dark hair looked vaguely familiar. "Who are you? How dare you spy on me?" She snatched her towel off its hook and wrapped it hastily around herself. Keeping a wary on the intruder, she stepped out of the shower.
She might have believed the penitent look that crossed his face, if it wasn't for the bright blue eyes twinkling at her. "Ye have my solemn apologies, Slayer. Sure, and I never would have committed such a terrible breach of manners if the situation hadn't been so urgent."
"Who are you?" Buffy repeated. Belatedly aware that the shower was still running, she reached over and pushed in the knob, getting her towel wet in the process. Which didn't improve her mood one bit.
The young man slapped his hand against his heart theatrically. "Ye don't remember me? I'm shattered." He bowed to her. "Doyle is the name."
Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Doyle." He did look like the man she vaguely remembered Cordy dragging out of the office when she had paid her visit to Angel back in November. But Doyle was dead. He'd died saving Angel and Cordelia and a boat full of half-breed demons.
"The one and only. Thank God, most would say." He grinned puckishly at her.
"Doyle's dead," she returned flatly.
"As a doornail, me darlin'," he cheerfully affirmed. "And unfortunately still at the beck and call of Those Who Expect To Be Obeyed." He heaved a dramatic sigh.
The bathroom door burst open and Angel rushed in, with Wesley hovering close behind him. "Buffy, are you - " He stopped in mid-word, staring at their visitor. His open mouth closed, opened, then closed again. "Doyle?" he whispered.
"Angel, man, it's good to see ya again." Doyle smiled at his former employer. "I know you're all choked up and everything', but we don't have time for all that right now. I'm on an errand for the Powers. They've had enough of the two of ya mopin' around and pinin' for each other - it's giving them acid stomachs or somethin'. So they sent me to give you two a hint." Along with his mischievous mannerisms his exaggerated Irish brogue had also vanished.
"A hint?" Angel looked as confused as Buffy felt. "What kind of hint? About what?"
Doyle straightened, in the process somehow becoming taller than he actually was. "That which has already been done cannot be undone," he intoned. Buffy's eyes widened. His normal light tenor had deepened and become... fuller. Richer. Even kind of eerie. It almost sounded as if more than one person was speaking through his voice.
"But that which has already been done *can* be altered, or revoked. Find the Book of Sekhmet and seek the solution."
Doyle stopped speaking and gave his head a little shake. "Whew! That's a strange feelin'. A million times better than those skull-splitters I used to get, though." He whistled in remembrance.
"What does it mean?" Angel still looked bewildered. Doyle gave him a rather disgusted look. "A tad slow tonight, aren't ya?" he remarked cuttingly.
Buffy rushed to Angel's defense. "Doyle, we've had a really rough night. Can you give us a hint - 'cause I have to admit I'm not getting the message either. For starters, what is the Book of Sekhmet?"
"It's a volume of ancient spells, curses, and prophecies." Wesley spoke for the first time. "Sekhmet was the lion-headed goddess of Old Egypt. She was the goddess of - well, of a great many things: life, birth, and death, to name only a few."
Doyle nodded his approval. "You'll be Wesley, I'm thinkin'."
Wesley inclined his head in return. "I am. It's an honor to meet you, sir."
"Sir?" Doyle looked over both shoulders in an exaggerated fashion. "Sure, and I thought it was me father you were talkin' to." He grinned. "The name's Doyle, not sir."
"Doyle, then." Wesley, too, smiled. "Can you repeat the message? I'd like to be sure I got it right." Doyle obliged, this time with no supernatural overtones, and Wesley frowned, deep in thought.
"'That which has already been done can be altered or revoked.' Something that's already happened needs to be altered in some fashion, and Angel is to look in the Book of Sekhmet to find out how to do it - but we don't know what it is we're supposed to change."
"I've always been a big fan of Cher's," remarked Doyle, apropos of nothing at all. The abrupt change of subject left everyone gawking at him. "I really like that old song of hers; from the seventies, I think it was. You know the one." Pursing his lips he whistled a few bars of a tune Buffy recognized from the oldies radio programs her mother loved to listen to, but she couldn't place it.
Wesley watched Doyle closely, then tentatively began humming the same melody. Angel glanced at Buffy, his expression mirroring her own confusion. Wesley looked over at the vampire. "Angel, don't you recognize the song?"
"Vaguely, yes. I'm just wondering what it has to do with anything." Angel's voice betrayed his growing exasperation.
"Wait," Buffy said. She didn't understand either, but she believed that Doyle had a definite purpose in mind when he mentioned the song. "It's something about tramps and robbers, or something."
Wesley sent her an approving glance that also held suppressed excitement. "Yes. The actual title is 'Gypsies, Tramps & Thieves'."
Buffy got it instantly. "Gypsies!" She turned in elation to Angel, who still looked lost. "Like in the Kalderash. 'That which has already been done can be altered, or revoked'. Angel, the Powers are telling us that something can be done about your curse!"
"Finally!" Doyle mimed wiping sweat off his forehead while Wesley gave her what could only be called a beam. Doyle leaned toward Buffy and, gesturing at Angel, whispered, "Did he get hit on the head last night or somethin'? He's usually quicker in the uptake than this."
Wesley cut in. "As Buffy already told you, Doyle, they had quite a rough night. After almost getting fried by the sun, one can hardly wonder if Angel is somewhat out of it right now."
"Is Buffy right?" Angel asked Doyle, ignoring all the by-play and cutting right to the heart of the matter. "Is that what the message means?"
"Seems clear as mud to me," Doyle smiled.
Angel took a step toward him. "Doyle." Although his voice stayed quiet, his manner made it clear he was in no mood for jokes. "*Can* something be done to change the curse so that - "
He stopped, swallowed, as if afraid to speak the words for fear they might not be true after all.
Doyle became equally serious. "So that your soul is safe?" He smiled again, but this time with reassurance. "Angel, any spell or curse that can be cast can also be broken - or revised, even though it might not be easy to do it. What I can't understand is why none of you ever thought of that. Not even your Watcher, Buffy. I never mentioned it because I figured you'd already researched it and couldn't find the solution."
Buffy exchanged a blank glance with Angel, then Wesley. "I... don't know." She had rarely felt so stupid.
"It doesn't matter," Angel said. He stood straighter and a burden seemed to lift off his shoulders. Suddenly he looked years younger, with a light in his eyes Buffy hadn't seen since before her seventeenth birthday. "I'm going to call Giles and see if he knows where I can lay hands on the Book of Sekhmet."
"It's entirely possible that he may even have a copy himself," contributed Wesley. He was as excited as they.
"Doyle," began Angel, smiling broadly as he turned to the spirit of his friend. "I don't know how to - "
"Thank me?" interrupted the Irishman, so sharply that they all stared at him. "I'll tell you how: by not screwing up this chance for happiness the way you did before!"
Angel was visibly taken aback by his cutting tone. "Look at ya," continued Doyle. "You're grinning like an idiot. Feelin' *happy*, are ya, my friend?"
Buffy paled. How ironic would it be if Angel's joy at finally getting rid of the loophole that put his soul in danger actually served to activate the loophole itself?
As Angel's hopeful expression also faded, Doyle added, "Look, man, you've got the chance of a lifetime here. Don't blow it. Find the Book, find the spell or whatever it takes to keep your soul safe, cast it, and *then* celebrate."
"You're right." Determination swept across Angel's features. "Thank you."
Doyle gave him a long, narrow-eyed stare, then nodded, as if satisfied with what he saw. He waved his hand airily. "Think nothin' of it. All part of the service, ya know. Well, I better be getting back to work before the Powers dock my pay. See ya around. Oh, and Angel?"
Angel raised an inquiring eyebrow. Doyle nodded toward Buffy and gave him a thumbs-up gesture. "Congratulations. She's a real stiffener, all right."
Buffy's jaw dropped, but before she could do more than gasp in outrage, Doyle disappeared. Wesley coughed, then said smoothly, "I believe I'll take my leave also. I'll see you both later." Then he too vanished from her view, but not before she caught a glimpse of his wide grin.
She turned to Angel, seething helplessly, at a loss for words. Angel shrugged. "It's only the truth." Then he smiled. "Especially when all you're wearing is a towel."
Buffy looked down; she had completely forgotten her state of semi-nudity. "Oh. Uh, yeah... guess I better get some clothes on, huh?"
Angel nodded but didn't move. "Buffy - " He stopped, clearly searching for words. She didn't give him any help, only waited, clutching the towel around her. Finally he made a helpless gesture. "I feel like the world has suddenly turned upside down. There's so much we need to talk about, but - " Again he stopped.
"Angel," said Buffy quietly. "If Doyle's right there'll be time enough for talk later. The only question I have right now is whether you want us to be together again." She held up her hand as he started to speak. "Not whether we *can* be together, or should be together, but whether or not you want us to be."
Angel's answer wasn't verbal: He took two steps forward, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. Not passionately or desperately, as they'd kissed in the jail cell, but with a consuming love and reassurance that spoke louder than words.
Buffy hadn't realized how stiff she was until the tension drained from her body at Angel's response. The relief was so great, for a moment she felt giddy and leaned against him until her head cleared.
"Good," she managed to rasp. "Then we'll make it work, somehow. Now, give me a minute to get dressed and then - "
She broke into a tremulous smile. "And then I think we have a phone call to make.
FIVE MONTHS LATER
"Ah!" Buffy gasped/moaned. Above her, Angel echoed her cry as he drove deep inside her. At the impact of their bodies a shower of sensation exploded within her, and Buffy shuddered. "Oh, God! Angel - "
"I can't wait!" he gasped, his face contorted.
"Neither can I!" She bucked upward to meet him, and his hard length slammed into her again and again, faster and faster. Then Angel froze momentarily and her groan mingled with his choked cry as the bonfire of orgasm consumed them both. Afterward they lay sprawled atop the sheets, limp as rags, until Buffy's breathing returned to normal.
Sighing, Buffy nestled closer, draping a leg over Angel's long limbs and relishing the coolness that sucked the excess warmth from her overheated body. She let her hand lazily caress the flat, muscular planes of his chest and stomach, and rediscovered a fact she'd completely forgotten: the vampire was ticklish.
Gasping, he grabbed her hand and forcibly stopped the light tracing of her fingertips. Although greatly tempted to start a ticklefest, Buffy decided against it. After all, Angel might retaliate, and she too was ticklish. She couldn't, however, resist a giggle.
"Sorry." She moved her hand away from the trouble zone, back up to his chest. Smoothing one soft, flat nipple, she said, "I wasn't sure this day would ever come, Angel. I'd almost given up hope." Through the window she caught a glimpse of the bright moon shining gibbous in the dark sky.
"I know. I thought we'd never find the right spell, and then - " He gave a little laugh, his breath puffing against the top of her head. "We do know how to complicate things, don't we?"
"I'd say we deserve a medal by now," Buffy said wryly. "If anyone gave out medals for screwing things up, that is. Between me feeling guilty about Riley and trying to break it off with him without hurting him- "
"Which wasn't possible, and you knew it," put in Angel. "He loves you, Buffy. There was no way he wouldn't get hurt."
"No," she sighed, with regret. "But I couldn't stay with him once we knew there was a chance your soul could be safe, even if we didn't know how long it would take to find the right spell."
"No," agreed Angel, with just the faintest tinge of smugness in his voice.
Buffy noticed, but just rolled her eyes and let it pass without comment. "Anyway, if it wasn't me freaking about Riley or about telling my mom, or trying to figure out how I could be with you and still watch the Hellmouth without conflict, it was you freaking about leaving L.A. unguarded, or about 'abandoning' Faith and Kate."
"Buffy, they're my responsibility - " Angel began.
"I know," she interrupted. "I understand that now, Angel. Really. It just... wasn't easy for me to accept it at first, especially when it came to Faith. You've told me everything that happened, and I'm willing to believe that she wants to change, even that maybe she's already changed. But when she gets out of prison she's going to have to prove herself."
She looked up into his face. "And I better not find you cuddling her again, or I won't be responsible for what happens!"
She was only half-joking. Angel seemed to realize this, for his smile was brief. "Faith won't be in a position for anybody to cuddle her for a long time yet," he reminded her quietly. "She won't be eligible for parole for five years."
Buffy was silent, torn between her lingering hate and need for revenge on the rogue Slayer and her innate compassion for such a troubled soul. After a moment she discreetly changed the subject. "How is Kate these days?
"She went back to work last month." A real smile lit Angel's face.
Buffy smiled too. "That therapist you recommended is really helping her, huh?" she asked.
Angel shook his head, remembering. "It wasn't doing Kate any good seeing a therapist who didn't know that demons exist. She had to be able to talk to someone who could really understand what she was going through."
"Mm-hmm," Buffy acquiesced. "So you gave her the name of a demon psychologist." Then as Angel turned a noticeably patient look on her, she chuckled. "Okay, sorry. A psychologist who just happens to have a few demons as patients."
Angel relaxed back into the pillows with a reflective smile. "All it took was a couple of encounters with the Vinath and Corolli children as they waited for their parents for Kate to realize that demons come both good and bad, just like humans."
Buffy chuckled again. Vinath and Corolli demons were among the very few that could be classified as "cute." The young ones resembled nothing so much as furballs on two legs; the adults were a bit more intimidating, being sleeker and usually well over six feet tall. "Good. I don't want to have to worry about Cop Lady hiding in a dark corner waiting to stake you. Or me."
They were quiet for several minutes. Finally Buffy said, thoughtfully, "You know, even though there were times when I thought I'd burst from impatience, I'm kind of glad that it took so long for the spell to be located."
Angel rolled toward her, leaning on one elbow to look down at her. "Why?"
"Because it gave us a chance to get to know each other again, maybe even better than we did before. With you spending half your time here with me, and me going to Los Angeles the rest of the time, we were able to work our way back into each other's lives."
Angel's brown eyes were serious. "I'm glad too. Now I know we can make it work, even if we can't be together all the time."
She searched his face. "No more nonsense about me having a 'normal' relationship?"
He grinned. "Normal is overrated. I have it on the highest authority."
Buffy grinned too. Angel grew sober. "Buffy, are you okay that we came back here tonight, to my old apartment?"
Her response was firm. "Yes. It was my idea, remember?"
"The... associations... aren't too painful?" A worried line creased his brow.
She shook her head. "Not anymore. That's why I suggested it." Reaching up, she stroked along the line of his jaw. "Angel, I had to exorcise that memory, and the best way to do it was to come back here to... uh...."
Angel raised a teasing eyebrow. "To?"
She hit his shoulder playfully. "To celebrate our reunion."
"Did it work?" A faint shadow still played across his features.
Buffy considered, pursing her lips. "Not completely." Then she grinned. "I think we need to give it another good old college try."
Slowly Angel smiled. "I'm up for that."
"You better be," she threatened, then pulled him over on top of her and began kissing him, running her hands through his thick hair. They rolled over onto their sides. His arms pulled her close, his hands roamed across her back... her hips... her breasts. Before long Buffy was gasping for breath.
And Angel demonstrated beyond doubt that he was, indeed, up for it.
The End