Disclaimer: nope, still don't own them
Pairing: B/A eventually
Category: Romance/Angst/Drama
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Spoilers: none
Summary: completely AU, no vampires, no slayers, no Sunnydale; the characters we love are either cops, lawyers or PIs or their spouses and wives/husbands... and they all live in Los Angeles
Feedback: oh yes, please!!!
Dedication: For Angie, the bestest BETA

Monday, August 14th, Los Angeles

Alexander Harris yawned when he pushed against the swing door marking the entrance to the police department. A check of his watch assured him that he had every right to feel tired. It wasn't even eight o'clock in the morning. Damn Giles, he thought. Maybe it was a British thing to hold meetings at this early hour.

His eyes still half-closed he almost bumped into someone who was coming from the bathroom. "Riley," he greeted his colleague who was looking wide-awake. How the guy always managed to be this alert was a mystery for Alexander Harris whom his friends just called Xander. "You're early as well."

"Yeah," the blond replied nodding towards Rupert Giles' office door.

"You're in the meeting too?" Xander raised his brows, "Oh man, must be something big."

Riley merely shrugged and went towards his desk where a steaming cup of coffee was waiting for him. "How's Anya and the baby?" he asked taking a sip.

A grin lit Xander's tired face, "Great. They're both great. The boy's growing so fast," he rolled his eyes, "And he eats... It's a miracle he isn't Schwarzenegger by now. And Anya just loves being a mother."

"Good to hear," Riley sighed and sank into his chair. A frown appeared on his forehead while he was sipping from his coffee again.

The same moment the door swung open again and revealed a striking brunette, dressed in the latest fashion, her makeup perfect, she lifted a hand to remove a strand of hair from her face, and the diamond engagement ring on her finger sparkled in the artificial light. Cordelia Chase was the new assistant District Attorney, and Xander Harris' high school sweetheart, although she sometimes tried really hard to forget about it.

"Good Morning," she addressed the two police officers, one looking at her through narrowed eyes, the other grinning as always.

"Cordy, darling," Xander walked over to her and greeted her with a friendly hug. After their breakup in high school they had been avoiding each other for a couple of years but now they had settled into a comfortable friendship, with Xander being happy in his marriage with Anya and Cordelia just recently engaged to a local PI. Alan Doyle was out of Cordelia's league as far as Xander was concerned, but they seemed to love each other and who was he to judge their choices. "I would say it's nice to see you, but considering the meeting the big boss has been scheduled for eight o'clock, I'm not so sure anymore."

"Relax," she said, placing her briefcase on his desk. "This is just an informal meeting to discuss a case and an addition to the department."

"An addition?" Xander raised a questioning brow. "What kind of addition?"

She gave him a sweet smile, "Just wait and see," she said mysteriously. "You'll hear soon enough."

"What are we waiting for anyway?" Riley stood and looked towards Giles' office. "He's been on the phone for ages."

Now it was for Xander to narrow his eyes, "When exactly did you get up today?"

"I came half an hour ago and the Captain was already there, already on the phone and he hasn't stopped ever since," the blond answered.

"Morning," came a female voice from the door, sounding a bit breathless. "I'm not too late, am I," her eyes darted to the closed office door and instantly her posture relaxed, "Good. The traffic is absolutely terrible."

"Calm down, Willow," Xander smiled at the redhead who held a laptop under her arm. Willow Rosenberg Osborne was the computer wizard of the department and the wife of his best friend, who was the owner of a specialized computer shop in West Hollywood. Other than that, they knew each other forever. They'd played together in pampers and Xander had been glad when Willow had joined the force three years ago.

"Calm down?" she parroted. "Do you remember when I was late for a meeting two weeks ago? Giles made me write all the overdue reports in one day. No thank you, not again."

"Well, you've already written them," Xander joked, grinning, "That means he can't really hurt you this time."

"I'd rather not test your theory," she replied. "Where's Buffy?" she looked around, then her eyes fell on Riley.

"Hey, don't ask me? We're only married, but we don't live with each other anymore, so why should I know where she is?" he shot back, not willing to speak about his wife, especially not to Willow, who was her best friend and confidante.

"She should've dumped you a lot earlier, if you ask me," Cordelia said, her hip resting on the edge of Xander's desk.

"Fortunately nobody has asked you," Riley replied acidly, his coffee suddenly tasting like soap. He knew that everyone in the department held him responsible for the failure that was his marriage. None of them had any idea what was really wrong with Buffy and he, but nobody was too shy to voice their opinion and that was, 'Riley is a bastard and Buffy a saint.'

So okay, he had been seeing other women during the second half of his four-year marriage to the blonde, but had anyone asked him why he had done it? No. They had just pointed the finger at him, called him unfaithful and that made everything Buffy did all right. Even for Willow and Cordelia, her closest friends, he was the one responsible for the mess, although they at least should know better. But of course, for women, the man was always the one to blame and Riley in particular was such an easy target.

Willow had been somewhat supportive to their relationship, at least at the beginning. Cordelia had called him a loser from the start. She had even refused to be a bridesmaid at their wedding, not willing to participate in something she was certain was doomed to fail. It really didn't help Riley to see that she'd been right. Cordelia Chase was a bitch. Period.

"No but she should have," the brunette said studying her fingernails. "Because if she'd asked me, I would've told her to keep her hands off you. Would've spared her a lot of pain and grief, wouldn't it?"

Riley clenched his hands into fists at his sides, "You think you're so clever, don't you," he hissed through gritted teeth, "I wouldn't be surprised to hear that you did everything to destroy our marriage."

Cordelia let out a short, amused laugh, "There was no need to do anything. You did that all by yourself, my friend. I thought you were a loser," she shrugged, picking up her briefcase when she saw Giles opening the door of his office, "well," she walked towards the Captain and passing Riley she added, "we have the proof of it now, don't we?" Then she reached out a hand to Giles leaving the blond police officer fuming behind her.

*

Rupert Giles looked at the faces assembled in his office. Xander Harris, Riley Finn and Buffy Summers-Finn all police detectives he knew for many years now, Willow Rosenberg, the department computer specialist, indispensable for research, Mike Harmon, a young officer, just out of Police academy, Kate Lockley and Darla Massey, his senior detectives, both highly decorated officers. With both he worked in the field before he became Captain of the department.

And there were more, Frank Williams, more a friend than just a co-worker, David Gadget, another long year police officer, and the most interesting pair of the department, Faith Henley and Drusilla Peterson, who were specialized in illegal substances.

He trusted all of them with his life and yet, the Internal Affairs was sure that one of them was foul.

Two weeks ago he'd gotten a call from Brent Harley, chief of the IA, telling him that they had proof that one of his officers had been playing with the bad guys. They had no name so far, but the informant had sworn that it was an officer of Giles' department and according to Brent Harley the informant was hundred percent reliable. That was also the reason the DA had sent his assistant to this morning's meeting. Cordelia Chase was familiar with the problem and most likely would be the attorney to pursue the case as soon as they knew who he or she was.

But of course he couldn't tell them that they were suspecting one of them. Nor could he tell them the real reason they would get an addition to their team. "We need to talk," Giles began, looking at each one of them for a second. "The major is concerned about the increasing crime rate in this area," he said and ignored the sniggers coming from his officers.

The crime-rate had been increasing for years and so far nobody had been interested. But it was a good reason to explain the two new officers quickly and so the DA and Internal Affairs had used the story. "I know, I know," he told them. "Big words and nothing happens, but not this time. It seems that at least someone understands that we need more officers to be more effective. So I wanted to see you in my office to tell you that we're getting two new colleagues."

Surprised glances and murmurs were the reaction, Buffy looked at him quizzically, sensing somehow that it wasn't it. She was a lovely young woman who in Giles' opinion had married the wrong guy after being hurt by another and had paid dearly for it the last two years. She would hopefully be divorced soon, and even though Giles thought of himself as old-fashioned and liked marriages to last a long time, preferably forever. However in this case it was a blessing that they weren't living in the Middle Ages anymore.

For her and for her alone Giles hadn't been happy with the officers Internal Affairs had chosen to investigate. She'd had enough heartache to last for a lifetime and he wasn't sure she would be too pleased to see the man again who had been the cause for a fair share. But Internal Affairs didn't discuss their choices, and Giles knew he was lucky that they had even bothered to inform him so thoroughly about their plans.

"Do we know them?" Willow finally asked the dreaded question.

"Only one of them. They've been working in New York for the last years, but they'll be moving to L.A. and will start working here on Wednesday."

"Well," the redhead looked at him expectantly, "Who are they? What are their names?"

"Their names," Giles paused shortly, locking his eyes with Buffy's, "are William Stevens and Angel Reardon."

****

Monday, August 14th, NEW YORK

"I still can't believe you agreed to do this," William Stevens rubbed his forehead then reached for the coffee. "I always thought you were so glad to escape L.A. and all the mess there."

Angel frowned, closing the file lying on his desk, "I was. Or rather, I thought I was. But to tell you the truth, I'm not so sure going back is the best idea. But Internal Affairs calls and we go."

"Yeah, straight across the whole damned country. Why on earth did I ever leave England?" William, by everyone known as Spike, a remnant of his school days when he used to wear his hair in spikes, shook his head.

"Beats me," Angel chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah, yeah," Spike reached into his pocket for a cigarette then remembered he wasn't supposed to smoke in the department. "Why are we doing this?" he leaned forward, looking his partner straight in the eye. "Tell me, why was Internal Affairs so after you in this?"

"Because I was close to the people there. I know the officers in the department, but I've been away for four years so they think I'm not too close either *and* they see you as a good addition being objective as you don't know a soul there."

"Still, I'm not really looking forward to those California Sunnyboys. New York is bad enough the way it is, but L.A.? If it was for a vacation I might even find the idea tempting, you know, lying on the beach, watching all those long, tanned legs and sorry excuses for a bikini, but this," he shook his head again, "This really sucks."

"You're incorrigible," Angel laughed and tilted his head. "L.A. isn't that bad, you know." Spike had been assigned as his partner shortly after he arrived in New York. Born in England, he had worked for Interpol for two years and got stuck in New York when he fell in love with a girl. The relationship was non-existent anymore but Spike had stayed in the Big Apple, already too addicted to the city. And Angel was glad, because the blond was the best partner he'd ever had and they had saved each other's hide more than once.

Spike smiled at him, then looked suddenly thoughtful, "And you're sure you're up to this?" he asked. "Seeing her again," he clarified. He'd wondered about the way Angel had avoided women, hadn't dated when they'd first met. Not that he dated a lot as it was, but at the beginning the dark-haired officer had been a recluse, a loner, not interested in a relationship at all, had even been distant towards his partner.

Spike had sensed that there had to be reason for his partner's behavior, and for the deep sadness in his eyes. But it had been more than a year before Angel had confided in him about the tragic love story in L.A. that had finally caused him to move to New York, far away from the woman he loved but could no longer have.

"It's been more than four years, Spike," Angel, replied, "Besides, she's happily married, so she's off limits to begin with. And maybe it's time to face all that again, to finally put an end to it and move on."

The blond officer tilted his head and studied his partner and friend for a long while, then he lifted his cup, "Alright then," he said, "L.A. here we come."

Part 2

Friday, August 18th, Los Angeles

"There you are." With a heavy groan Willow let herself sink into the wooden chair of "Drinks and Kinks", the favorite snack shop of the whole department. The owner, Cara, a lady in her fifties, was an original, always dressed up as if preparing for an audition, but she served the best food around and the prices were still reasonable, which was practically a miracle. Willow looked at her best friend who was sitting across her, eyeing the redhead with an amused expression. "What?" she asked confused.

"Nothing," Buffy grinned. "You're just adorable if you look all messed up and upset."

"Oh, thank you so much," the redhead replied sarcastically. "I feel so much better now. God, it's hot today," she groaned again, then took her napkin and used it as a fan for some seconds. "What I really need is a shower, but of course no such luck. No, instead I'm stuck with this damned net search. It's amazing I could escape for lunch." She took a deep breath, then smiled, "And how's your day?"

The blond laughed, "Not as bad as yours, but I've had better," she admitted, sipping her coke. "This Philips-case, you know, the woman was killed in her bedroom, everyone suspects the husband, but he swears he didn't do it." She shook her head and put her glass down. She saw her friend nod and went on, "Well, the husband was - is - ten years younger than his wife who has grown up kids. Three of them. Women. No, let me rewind that. Bitches."

The redhead grimaced, "That bad, huh?"

"Worse," Buffy said, leaning back in her chair. "I-"

"Now, how are my favorite officers?" Cara came to stand beside their table and flashed them a big, wholehearted smile. The sturdy woman who had been born in Alabama had made L.A. her home 20 years ago, and Buffy honestly wasn't sure if the city would be the same without her. "What can I get you? Are you up for some cholesterol-intake or on a diet again?"

"Aren't we always?," Willow sighed. "I just have to look at ice cream and gain a pound or two." Buffy nodded emphatically.

"Girls," Cara began.

"Girls!" both officers parroted. "Hardly," the blond said, making a face. "We both hit the big three-zero this year. That means each pound counts twice."

"Girls," Cara said again, her voice firm. "I'm almost twice your age, so you two are just young birds for me, barely out of the diapers. But I agree, today isn't the temperature for some heavy, fatty, tasty," she grinned when she saw the other's were groaning, "Yeah, yeah, I've got it. Two salads for the police-ladies. Have a nice day you two."

"You too, Cara," Buffy smiled. "You're a jewel, you know."

The older woman laughed throatily, "Oh Buffy, besides my husband you always say the nicest things." With a swing of her full hips she made her way towards the kitchen.

"She really is something," Willow laughed as well. "What a woman!"

"Oh yeah. Cara is the greatest. Nothing would be the same without her. I don't even want to think she might be to old one day to do this," she motioned towards the whole restaurant.

"Unthinkable," the redhead agreed, then suddenly remembered their interrupted conversation. "So the wo- I mean the bitches make the whole thing difficult?"

"You can say that. Privately," Buffy leaned forward, her voice merely a whisper, "I think they have the hots for the step-daddy and who could blame them. He looks as if he's right out of one of these high-quality magazines. Anyways. I suppose they envied mom for being at the receiving end of his charms while they could only watch from a distance. If the neighbors are right, their... uh... bedroom was quite... used," she grinned and winked at her friend.

"Uh-oh, I see. So mom and step-dad weren't just platonic with each other."

"If we can trust the neighbors, quite the opposite. One of the old ladies living across the yard swears she even saw them going at it beside the pool. Of course she was embarrassed when Xander asked her how she knew about it. You have to know that lady is close to the eighties."

Willow burst out laughing. "If you should ever write your memoirs..." she joked.

"Oh yeah. That would be interesting, but I suppose most of it is not for public use," she sighed again. "Oh, Willow, it is so good to laugh with you."

"Not so much of it this week, huh?" the redhead said compassionately.

"Well," Buffy rested her elbows on the edge of the table, "First this little bomb Giles dropped on us on Monday, then a really nice meeting with Riley and his lawyer on Tuesday. I swear, if you had seen him there, all innocent and like the good boy from Iowa, you wouldn't believe he was cheating on me for over two years. This puppy dog expression - it's a miracle I wasn't arrested for murder so far."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah," the blond let out a long breath and played with the napkin. "Of course the fact that Angel will be coming back didn't help either. I think Riley dreads it more than I."

Willow looked at her friend with understanding. She'd been there when all the drama had been enfolding more than four years ago. Angel and Buffy had met when he was assigned to a case she'd been working on for weeks. And they'd fallen for each other hard and fast. But then things had happened that drove them apart and Riley, who had fallen in love with Buffy as well, had seen his chance and grabbed it with both hands. Buffy, vulnerable and hurt, had been in need of someone to lean on to and when Riley had offered help, she took it. Nobody had expected them to marry, but it had happened, almost over night. The day of the wedding Angel had left Los Angeles. And everyone had thought it was for good.

But now he was coming back. More than four years had passed since they'd seen each other but nobody doubted that there was still something between Buffy and Angel. Their doomed relationship had been too intense, the sparks had been flying high and strong, nobody expected it to die that easily. Like nobody had expected for the marriage between Buffy and Riley to work. And they had been right. The divorce was only a matter of time and of working out the details, although Riley sometimes forgot about it and behaved as if he was still happily married to Buffy. Especially when other males seemed to be interested in her.

Considering all this, the next weeks promised to become quite interesting.

"I wonder why he's coming back," Buffy mused playing with her napkin again. "I mean he left L.A. as if the hellhounds were after him four years ago and now he's coming back. Wham! Just like that," she snapped her fingers. "It just doesn't... I dunno, does it seem..." she shrugged, not finding the right word.

"Well, he's grown up here. Maybe he just misses home," Willow said thoughtfully. "I would miss L.A. if I had to move."

"But-," Buffy lifted her shoulders in a helpless gesture, "Do you think," she frowned, her eyes cast downward, "Do you think it'll be awkward?"

"Oh, Buffy," the redhead reached over the table and took her friend's hand. "Don't blame yourself again for what's happened. It's over and done with, no reason to dwell on the past."

"I know," the blond replied, "And we both made mistakes, mistook lust for love and stuff, but... well, the day of my wedding when he suddenly stood in my room in the church. God, he looked so... lost," she stifled a sob, and then took a deep breath to steady herself. "Do you think I did wrong?" there was a quiver in her voice.

"Wrong?" Willow tilted her head, then shrugged, "Marrying Riley you mean? Well, given the situation the answer isn't that difficult, but going back four years, I honestly don't know. The situation was complicated-"

"Complicated is a big, huge, understatement. I'd rather call it a disaster," Buffy interrupted her, and then released a heavy breath. "God, Willow, I just don't know how to act around him. How's it going to be? Will he hate me? Despise me? Ignore me?" **Please, I don't want him to ignore me. And where the hell did that come from?**

"I think we'll just have to wait and see," her friend said calmly, studying the blond thoughtfully. Yes, the tension was definitely still there. Buffy had been a master of denial throughout the last four years, suppressing even the thought of Angel. Cordelia had once said that it was a sure sign she was far from over him, Willow hadn't believed her then, but now she wasn't so sure anymore.

At the beginning Riley and Buffy had looked right. She'd been down, defeated after all the drama with Angel and he seemed to be the right guy - at least in Willow's eyes. She had even liked Riley when all their friends had looked at him as if he was a bug. Especially Cordelia, Faith and Dru. The three women never left a good hair on Buffy's husband.

Maybe she should've listened to them, Willow thought now with regret, maybe they all should've tried to persuade Buffy to wait. She should've particularly listened to Faith who had been Riley's girlfriend for three years before he had started to develop an interest in Buffy. Her theories about why Riley was courting the blond had been terrible and Willow could remember shouting at her, accusing her of being jealous. Faith had laughed, shaking her head. You'll see, she'd said and now they did.And how would Angel react seeing Buffy *and* Riley again. Willow had always guessed that part of his anger about what was going on between the two had been due to the fact that it was Riley in particular, who was going after Buffy. Maybe he wouldn't have reacted the way he had if it had been another man? But Riley? With an inward sigh she tried to push all those heavy thoughts aside.

"Here you go," Cara appeared at their table again, carrying two plates and placed in front of the women.Buffy groaned, "How am I going to eat this?" she raised her brows at Cara.

"Hey, it's just salad," the older woman said, grinning. "And besides you could use a little weight on your ribs. Too much grief isn't good for you," she added with compassion in her voice.

"Anger," the blond replied tasting the salad, "Mmmm, good," she sighed contently. "It's anger, not grief," she clarified her first reply. "I've long ago stopped grieving over Riley."

Cara glanced quickly at Willow who was looking at the two other woman with interest, then she reached out and patted Buffy's shoulder, "It's not Riley I'm talking about," she said looking intently at the blond. Then she turned and left the two to their meals.

****

Saturday, August 19th, Los Angeles

"I can't believe that you persuaded me to help you with this," Doyle groaned lifting another piece of furniture. "Where the hell is all this stuff coming from?" he asked while he squeezed himself into the elevator and pressing the right button.

"I had it all in storage," Angel replied, leaning against the wall. "I left in quite a hurry and there was no way I could take all this with me, so I rented some space for it."

"And why didn't you just leave it there?" the PI asked. "It's really old stuff if you ask me."

"It is," the other man agreed, "the chairs, the table, even the bed I inherited from my parents. And yeah, it's old-fashioned too, but I can't just throw it away, there are too many memories..." he trailed off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed.

The elevator-door opened at the sixth floor and when the door was pulled open Doyle almost stumbled out, "Hey," he complained.

"Calm down," came the voice of his fiancée. "And don't be a wimp. Hi Angel," she smiled at the man. "Nice to see you again."

"Cordelia," he smiled back, not quite sure how to act around her. She was one of Buffy's best friends and knew all about their breakup. She hadn't said a word back then, but of course he had no way of knowing how she thought about the things that had happened between them. And now she was engaged to Doyle - something he hadn't expected in his wildest dreams - his best friend. If Cordelia blamed him for all the things in the past, this situation could become very awkward. More so as she was one of the few people who knew exactly about his job in L.A.

"How did you get here?" Doyle asked her, kissing her lightly on the lips.

"I used the second elevator," she replied, her eyes still fixed on Angel. "My, my," she grinned, "you've certainly grown up," she said. "Working out, huh?"

"What?" Angel stared at her. Cordelia Chase had always been full of surprises and again she'd managed to confuse him. "Grown up? Hardly," he said dryly. "Considering the fact that I'm 35 years old, I was hardly a child when I left."

"I know that," she replied rolling her eyes, "but some people just get older," she remarked, "you on the other hand, *matured*."

Doyle looked back and forth between the two of them, "Is there a reason I should get jealous now?" he asked good-naturedly. "Because I don't know how much I like the idea of you adoring another member of the male species so openly."

Cordelia laughed slightly, then cupped his cheek in one of her hands, "Calm down, honey. I love you. But that doesn't mean I'm blind all of a sudden. I always thought Angel was attractive, yet I never even considered him as a possible candidate of my affections."

"I wonder if should feel insulted now," Angel joked.

"No need," she shot back. "The problem was you were always so wrapped up in Buffy, there just wasn't a chance... and I just put my foot right into my mouth, didn't I," she said apologetically. "Sorry."

"It's alright," he touched her shoulder and squeezed it. "You don't need to avoid her name around me. I know she lives here, I knew it from the start, when I considered moving back here, working back here. She's with Riley now, she chose him, and she loves him. End of story. I have come to terms with that."

"Does that mean you don't know," she raised her brows, her eyes darting to Doyle who shook his head. "He didn't tell you?" she asked incredulously.

"No I didn't," Doyle confirmed, "We never talked about her, he never asked and I-"

"Would anybody please tell me, what this is all about," Angel said irritated, "What's the big secret?"

"No secret," Cordelia said with a little wistful smile playing around her lips, "It's just that Buffy is right in the middle of sending that little scum where he belongs or in more common terms, they're right in the middle of a divorce. It's just a matter of arrangements, but it should soon be over. I guess in about four weeks she'll be a free woman again."

Part 3

Monday, August 21st, Los Angeles

Angel swore when the doorbell rang at seven o'clock in the morning. It wasn't that he was late, but half of his face was covered in shaving foam - he could never get used to automatic razors - and all that covered his naked body was a tiny sort of towel, carelessly slang around his waist after a long, refreshing shower. Summers in New York could be hot, but it didn't hold a candle to heat of L.A. during the last few days.

The doorbell rang again, more impatiently this time, and he swore again, "Coming," he shouted from the bathroom. Emerging from it he ran over to his bedroom, fishing his denims from a chair and pulling them on. Not bothering to close the fly, he went for the door, the discarded towel now hanging around his neck. "Yeah," he said, the annoyance clearly audible in his voice when he pulled the door open.

And froze.

"Cordelia?!" It wasn't so much the fact that the fiancée of his best friend was standing right in front of him, although that was usually irritating enough, but the fact that she was already perfectly dressed, her make-up and hair perfectly coiffed as if straight from one of the high-color fashion magazines.

"Good Morning," she smiled brightly, then without asking pushed past him and entered his apartment, the high heels of her shoes clicking on the wooden floor.

"Cordelia," he repeated her name.

"You said that before. Have I changed so much since Saturday that you've got difficulties recognizing me?" she raised one of her eyebrows, "Nice outfit," she remarked, her eyes roaming over his bare torso, the open fly of his jeans, and his bare feet, then back up to rest on his face that, one side shaven and smooth, the other white with the foam. "Not quite awake, are we?"

"Bloody hell, what's going on out there, what's with the commotion?" Spike stumbled from one of the bedrooms, eyes blinking sleepily against the morning sun, the only piece of clothes covering him a pair of boxer shorts. "Oh, what a surprise, the lovely Miss Chase," a grin spread over his face, while he rubbed his eyes.

"Now, there is a greeting I would call polite," Cordelia shot Angel a nasty look.

"You two can talk, I need to get the stuff from my face," the dark-haired man said, disappearing in the bathroom.

"He's always a bit grumpy in the morning," the blond remarked, letting his still tired body glide into a seat.

"Oh," Cordelia's eyebrow rose again, "Is that so?" Crossing her arms in front of her chest she said loud enough so that Angel could hear as well, "You know, I never pictured you living with a man." She grinned at Spike who laughed out loud.

"Really funny," Angel returned from the bathroom, now the other side of his face clean as well, the jeans closed up, but the torso was still bare. "Go and make yourself useful," he told his friend. "Make coffee."

"Yeah, yeah," Spike muttered and struggled to stand up, "You want some coffee as well."

"That would be very nice," Cordelia gave him a bright smile that made him grin and Angel roll his eyes.

"So," he grabbed a shirt from the sofa and pulled it over his head, then he asked, "Why are you here?"

"We need to talk," she replied, her face suddenly all business, "About the case. And I'd rather not do this at work. And as long as Mr. Stevens lives with you, I get you both at the same time."

"Call me Spike," the blond man returned from the kitchen. "Coffee's running," he informed his friend, then looked back at Cordelia, "Each time you call me Mr. Stevens I tend to turn and look to check if my father's standing behind me."

"Spike it is," she suddenly frowned, "Spike? Is that actually your name? No," she shook her head almost talking to herself, "I remember reading William. So why Spike?"

"Long story," he shrugged, patting towards his bedroom. "I need to put some clothes on, can't have you drooling in public over my gorgeous body," he said, rummaging through his still not emptied bag to find something that wasn't in desperate need to ironing.

"Big ego, huh?" Cordelia turned towards Angel who was standing across the room.

"Not really," he grinned at his friend's bedroom. "He's okay. Best partner I ever had. But he's a ladies man."

"What can I say," Spike returned wearing denims as well and a pale green shirt. Running one hand through his tousled hair, he went towards the kitchen and Cordelia could hear him getting cups and the coffee, "they love me. I always hoped it would be infective, but my friend Angel here," he came back carrying a loaded tray, "he's a lost case. The dates he had in New York I could count on one hand."

"I really don't think my dating-habits are of interest here," Angel shot his friend a warning glance.

"On the contrary," Cordelia directed interested eyes on Spike, "I think the subject is fascinating." **I wonder what Buffy says if she hears that. A guy like Angel, avoiding dating.**

"Possibly," the dark-haired man said, pouring first her and then himself a cup of coffee, then pointed at the sofa. "Sit down and then tell me what you want to talk about. What about the case? I thought we just go there today, see what's going on, and then find the bad guy."

"Yes, that's the plan," she agreed, "but I thought some more information might be in order."

"You were here on Saturday, why didn't you tell us then?" Angel asked.

"Oh, please. That was my weekend. My weekend is off-limits. No work on weekends, no talk about work."

"So you prefer to get up at, what, six on Mondays?" Spike raised an inquiring brow.

She shrugged slightly, and then sipped from her coffee. "Wow, that's good," she complimented.

"Not really surprising. If I can recall Doyle said your coffee could wake the dead, because of horror."

She narrowed her eyes, "He said that? Good to hear. Well, coming back to the matter at hand. There are some things you need to know. I informed Captain Giles about the real reason you're here, first because your job will be much easier if he understands what's going on and secondly, we're sure he isn't the one we're searching for."

"I thought you didn't know who he or she was, how can you know then that he isn't," Spike raised his cup and watched Cordelia over the rim.

"No, I agree with her," Angel crossed his arms, "Giles is clean. He would never do something like that. He's... It's just not possible."

Cordelia smiled, "Plus we've checked all his accounts, his schedule. If he's the person, he would have to be supernatural. No, Giles isn't the one. But I am going to tell you we have several suspects. There's Frank Williams. His wife recently had very expensive surgery and needs physiotherapy now. Mike Harmon is new at the department. He's in love with the daughter of a rich man, maybe in need to impress his future in-law. David Gadget is in debt way over his head."

"I can't imagine David Gadget..." Angel shook his head, "but I suppose everything is possible if money is involved."

"Yeah, I suppose," Cordelia agreed, "Darla Massey had a huge sum of money transferred to her bank-account, just recently, although we think with her intelligence it's strange she wouldn't be more careful if the money wasn't clean. Still..." her serious eyes rested on Angel. "I know you and she were close."

"Emphasis on 'were'. Whatever was between Darla and I is long over and done with. It was that way even four years ago. After it was over we weren't even friends anymore. Just polite acquaintances."

"Good to hear," she took another sip from her coffee, "And then there's Drusilla Peterson."

Spike almost choked on his coffee, "What sort of name is *Drusilla*?" he asked with incredulous eyes.

"An old-fashioned one," Angel replied. "It's a tradition in her family."

"Angel took her under his wings when she was a rookie," Cordelia explained.

"Under your wings, huh? Attractive?" Spike wiggled his eyebrows, not hiding what he thought.

Angel narrowed his eyes at him, "I'm not you," he growled. "That might be your way, but it's certainly not mine."

"What did I say?" the blond man directed his gaze at the assistant DA, "Boring. And now I'm living with this guy. I can only hope that *he* isn't infective."

"So, what's this about Drusilla? I will never believe she worked with the other side. She lost her parents in a car bombing from the drug mafia. She would never change sides," Angel put his cup down.

"Nothing is clear so far," Cordelia said quietly. "But she suddenly had new clothes, a new car, a brand-new apartment and we couldn't find the source of this new wealth." She frowned, not quite sure how to continue, knowing that the mere mention of the name could push Angel over the edge. "Uh... and there's Riley Finn."

"Finn?" Angel's brows shot up.

"Is it Finn these days? It was Riley four years ago," Cordelia tilted her head.

"A lot happened since then."

"Yeah, it did," she agreed. "I'm okay with Finn. It's not as if I like the guy. I never understood what Buffy saw in him," she raised her hands, "okay, okay, I'm not starting this. Not now anyway. But he's... I dunno... behaving strange lately. I'm not quite sure how to say this, but he had... ladies... over the last two years. Expensive ones."

"Ladies?" Angel's eyebrows almost touched his hairline.

"Whores, my friend or are you dense," Spike grinned.

"Whores?" the dark-haired man stood up in a swift movement, began to pace the room, "He had whores? For two years?"

"Yeah," Cordelia confirmed. "He used to visit certain... houses... with some friends. Used to blame it on her, you know, what they say. She wouldn't love him enough, care enough for his needs and this stuff. Slimy little bastard. Oh, I would be so glad if it was him. Nothing more satisfying than to nail his sorry little ass."

"Wow," Spike grinned even more, "I really wouldn't like to cross you."

"Just so you know," she shot back, but grinned as well.

"God, I can't believe that," Angel stopped his pacing and ran a hand through his hair. "Did she know?" he asked.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about this," Cordelia replied, but when she saw his glare, she raised her hands again. "Okay, okay. No, not at the beginning. Or maybe she did, but didn't want to believe what kind of person he was. Riley is scum, Angel. I know he was your friend. I know you've known him all your life and -"

"That's the past," the dark-haired man said, reclaiming his seat, "I had the opportunity to have an insight into his inner-self. And believe me, it wasn't pleasant what I found. So, yeah, I thought he was my friend, I didn't want to believe Faith when she told me he was jealous of me, only to realize that he envied me all my life." He released a breath, ran his hand through his hair again.

"Alright," Spike looked back and forth between the two, "I know there was this thing between you and Buffy. And I know this Riley guy is married to her."

"That's only for about four more weeks," Cordelia threw in.

"Whatever," the blond man continued, "But you and him were friends?" he asked Angel.

"Yeah," the other man confirmed, "We've known each other all our lives. His family lived next door to mine. We went to high school together, played in the same football team-"

"Where Angel was the quarterback and Riley was just a substitute," Cordelia remarked dryly to make a point.

"I get the picture," Spike said.

"Yeah, well," Angel rubbed his forehead. "Then we went to college, to the police academy, then got to work in the same department, and I never once realized what was eating him up. The guy saved my neck time and time again."

"And you saved his," Cordelia reminded him.

"Wait a second," the blond man's interested eyes rested on his friend, "You said you were friends, but is there something I didn't know?"

"Yeah," Angel nodded. "What you don't know is that Riley and I were partners."

Go to Part 4