In Your Eyes

Part 11

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

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

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

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

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

"It's Kate," came the reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part 12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

Soon, the voice in his head whispered, soon.

Part 13

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

"Doyle?."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Delia?"

"Hmm?"

"Go! Now!"

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part 14

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

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

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

There You Go Flashing Fever from your EyesHey babeCome over hereand shove down tightI'm not denyingWe're flying above them allHold my handDon't let me fall You've such amazing grace I've never felt this way

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

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

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

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

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

"As you wish."

OhhhShow me Heaven Cover Me Leave me breathlessOhhhShow me Heaven please

Here I goI'm shaking just like a breezeHey babeI need your hand to steady meI'm not denying I'm frightened as much as you though I'm barely touching youI've shivers down my spineand it feels divine

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

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

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

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

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

He sighed heavily, "I'll try"

OoohShow me HeavenCover MeLeave me breathlessOooh Show me Heaven please

If you know what it's liketo dream a dreambaby hold be tightand let this be

OoohHeaven - Cover MeLeave Me breathless OoohShow Me Heaven please

Leave me breathless

Cover me - oooh - yeah

Leave me breathless

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Definitely," Buffy agreed.

"Scared, alright," Willow nodded.

And then all three burst out laughing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It was your fault," he reminded her.

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

"Wonderful, huh?"

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

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

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

Part 15

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

Buffy!

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, it's me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," came the reply.

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

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

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

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

"I need to go," the PI murmured.

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

"Finnegan," Doyle supplied.

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

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

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

"No," he shook his head emphatically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Go to the Part 16