Part 23

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

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

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

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

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

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

Angel couldn't sit any longer so he stood up from his chair and walked towards the window, staring into the outer office. Buffy looked up the very same moment and their eyes met. A long look passed between them. A look that spoke of love, friendship, understanding and the sharing of the same undeniable truth. Not taking his eyes from the blonde's face, he asked, "What are we going to do now? I mean, yeah we do have the pictures and they tell us who the person is, but that's still not enough. We need more to make this case waterproof. Cordelia says she needs more to be absolutely certain, to convince a jury hundred percent."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

*****

same day, 2.00 p.m.

"Listen to me," the voice growled at the other end of the line. "They know. They know everything. I need to get away from here."

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

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

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

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

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

"But-"

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

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

"Obviously," Floyd replied bitingly. "Well, the damage is done. There's nothing we can do now. But, as I said before, if the proof was good enough, they would've already arrested our contact. But they haven't. And that tells us two things. The proof isn't enough *and* they're going to try to find more. They're going to try to make this waterproof." He smiled, a very slow smile, Lyle had seen before, and it send shivers down his back, "Get me Zack on the phone, I think I need him for another job."

Part 24

same day, 8.00 p.m., Los Angeles

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

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

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

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

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

A tight fist seemed to squeeze his heart and Angel felt as if he'd been punched in the gut, but managed to sound cool, "I see," he said, concentrating on breathing slowly, not to lose control. He didn't know why her answer surprised him so much. Sure, they had kissed once, outside the Splash, and yeah, she'd reacted, passionately even, but of course that didn't have to mean anything. What had been one of the most intense moments for him might have just been a spark of passion for her. He had been so sure, she had felt it too, but then, he barely knew her anymore. Four years had passed and although they had spent the last week more or less together, nothing in her behavior had hinted more than friendship.She must have sensed the change in his mood because suddenly uncertain, she reached over the table and covered his large hand with her small one, "Or did I get that wrong?" she asked anxiously, "I really want you to be my friend and I want to be yours. That's important for me."

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?" she asked, and then shrugged, "Well, he certainly does it well. I would've never guessed it. But Dru was hot for him the moment she saw him." She rolled her eyes and laughed, "'He's so cute', she said."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

"That's what I was wondering," she replied resting her chin on his chest. "Why didn't you take the bed?"

"I'm not really interested in making love to you in a bed where you and..." he just trailed off, but Buffy had no problems understanding him.

"Riley and I never made love there."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It was the same for me," she assured him, pressing her mouth to his chest, inhaling his scent, loving the smooth feeling of his skin under her lips. "And I thought you'd never forgive me for what I'd done," she admitted brokenly. "I love you," she cried, her mouth, wet with her tears and soon with his met his again. "Please love me, Angel. Love me."

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

Part 25

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled as well, "Morning."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cordelia said that?" he asked, shocked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You said your heart was broken, and-"

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

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

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

"The same here," she sighed happily, reached up and pulled his head down. "Could you kiss me again?" she asked breathily against his lips. "Just so I'm sure that's not a dream."

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

*****

Spike's waking wasn't of the same pleasant quality. Although it had started quite promising. He had been having the most wonderful dream. He was laying on the beach, the sun shining down on him and turning around he saw Drusilla beside him, clad only in a sorry excuse for a bikini. He sighed in contentment and reached out his arm to stroke her creamy skin only to come in contact with... nothing.

Which was odd, because he had a very clear memory of falling asleep with a woman in his arms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's not-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Go to Part 26