Part 26

Xander raised a brow when after his second ring, not Buffy but Angel opened the door to the blonde's apartment. It wasn't that he hadn't expected him to be there. He knew that Buffy's ex-lover had spent the last week in her apartment more or less, but Riley'd been dead for over a week now and because there hadn't been any feelings between them anymore, Xander thought it was time for Buffy to go on with her life. Or rather for Angel to leave her to do exactly that.

Still, he wasn't surprised to meet Angel there, Xander told himself inwardly, it was more the way he stood there. As if hebelonged. Well, he probably did, Xander thought with an inward sigh. He would have to be blind not to see what was happening between the two of them. "Angel," he said and nodded at the other man, who stepped back and closed the door behind him.

"Xander," Angel replied and nodded as well. "You're the last. The others are here already," he said and lead the way towards the living room, where besides Buffy, he found also Cordelia, Doyle and Spike waiting for him.

"I see the whole squad is there already. Sorry for the delay," he said on a grin, "but Harris Junior was a bit cranky this morning."

The others, except Spike, smiled at that. Doyle winked at his fiancée who rolled her eyes in response. When Doyle had first started talking about kids, she'd felt nothing but panic. First of all she wasn't mother material. She didn't know a thing about small children. They were crying all the time, if they didn't burp, eat, poop, or sleep. And if she could believe the young parents she met, sleep wasn't usually high on the scale. Young parents all suffered from sleep deprivation, and Cordelia could only guess how much damage that did to your complexion. But she had also noticed that strange dreamy look in their eyes. And day after day she found herself more curious to know what it meant.

But there was also her career. She had worked really hard to become what she was today. Not quite 31 she was the assistant DA and for a woman it was a remarkable achievement. For a woman, she knew how that sounded, and she would never back down under any circumstances, but Cordelia Chase was also a realist, who knew that although women had the same rights as men, they still had to be better, work harder, and prove themselves all the time to be accepted in the same way. And now that she had achieved what she had worked for the last twelve years of her life, she didn't want to give it up for a baby. But she knew that Doyle wanted children, he was good with them, much better than she, and during the few quiet hours it worried her.

"The joys of parenthood," Buffy joked, coming back from the kitchen holding a tray loaded with coffee. "I suppose you can use this," she added.

"Did I ever tell you that I love you, Buffy Summers," Xander said dramatically, and grinned when Angel raised a brow at that. Oh yeah, Xander thought, the guy had it bad again. He sipped from his mug, "Now," he looked around, "I think I can get used to these meetings in Buffy's apartment. It's much nicer than the precinct."

"I should hope so," Buffy said dryly. "I'm not sure if I should feel flattered or insulted that you even consider comparing my nice apartment to something so old and horribly furnished."

Xander grinned, "Giles wouldn't like to hear that. For him it must have some morbid charm. The guy practically lives there."

"He has no wife to go home to," Angel commented with a serious face. Everybody knew that the lieutenant had once been married and deeply in love with his wife, Jenny. Six years ago, she'd been killed, coming home early and surprising a man in their house. The guy had come for burglary, but had panicked when she'd discovered him.

"True," Xander said gravely, and in an attempt to lighten the mood, he added, "But then, the guy's English, they're strange people." He had expected to at least some reaction from Spike, but the blond was strangely quiet, didn't even so much as to look at Xander.

"Okay, then," Cordelia put her mug down and reached for her briefcase, "Let's discuss some things. I had a meeting with my boss and the guys from IA yesterday and there are several new developments you should be aware of. Plus, as Angel pointed out, it's pretty likely that our suspect knows about his and Spike's involvement, so they are more or less out," she shifted her attention towards Buffy and Xander, "That means you're the ones to take over now. Be careful so that you're not discovered. We can't afford to install someone new. We're too close."

"That's something, I wanted to talk about," Angel said, sitting down beside Buffy. "We should be very careful," he went on, concerned eyes resting on Buffy. "As Cordelia said, we're close. And our guy might know what's going on."

"Meaning?" the brunette asked.

"Meaning that the bad guys behind our dirty friend might be royally pissed," Spike replied in his friend's place. "Meaning that if they killed Riley - assuming it was them, and after seeing all the evidence he collected, I'd say it's a pretty good guess. So if they killed Riley, a cop, they certainly won't shy away from killing another one."

Cordelia inhaled sharply, her startled gaze flying to her fiancée who just nodded, "God, that's making me so sick," she exclaimed, standing up and beginning to pace the room. "You're my friends. All of you. And I don't want you exposed to that kind of danger. Riley was killed with a long-distance-weapon. That means we don't have a chance to protect you. Maybe-"

"We can't back down now," Buffy interrupted her, standing up as well; she took her friend's hand and stopped her pacing, "We're cops, Cordy. We know what we risk, each day we go out there to do our job."

"She's right, Cordelia," Angel looked at the assistant DA, then at the woman he loved, "And don't think I like it. Because I don't. In fact, I hate the mere idea of Buffy being hurt, but she loves her job. I love mine. It's part of what we are. Giving it up would mean giving up a part of ourselves. What I said, I didn't say it to make you feel bad. I just want everyone in this room be aware of the danger."

Cordelia looked at him for a long moment, considering his words, then she said finally, "Okay. We're going through with it. Besides, if I stop this now, my boss would eat me alive. But by God, be careful. I want all of you alive and well when this is over."

"Hey, that's part of the job description," Xander joked, feeling anything but. But he could see how much Cordelia was shaken. "Didn't you know? We're the super-cops. We're undestroyable."

Cordelia forced herself to laugh cheerfully, "Well, that's good to hear. Fine," she took a deep breath, "Now, let's go through the new evidence we've got. I think bit by bit we're closing in on our guy."

****

Buffy put the last mug into the dishwasher, then added some soap, when she caught Angel standing in the doorway, watching her. "Hey," she smiled, turning towards him, and barely suppressed a gasp at the intense expression in his eyes. "What's the matter?" she asked, walked over to him and slipped her arms around his waist.

He sighed, pulled her close and rested his head on hers, "Promise me to be careful," he said, his voice full of worry.

"I promise," she whispered, stroking his back. "You heard Xander. We're indestructible," she said in a lame attempt to lighten the mood.

"Don't," Angel growled warningly. He pulled back and when she looked up she saw the fury in his eyes. "Don't joke about it. This is serious. Cordelia told the truth. We're closing in on this guy. And the men behind the whole thing won't like it. And believe me, they won't hesitate a second to get rid of a cop who'd be a danger to them."

"I know that," she replied, reaching up and cupping his cheek in one of her hands, "Angel, I'm a cop. I know it's dangerous. I just don't want you to worry."

"I love you," he said gruffly, "People who love, worry. That's something we can't change. I just got you back. I couldn't stand to lose you again, Buffy. I wouldn't know how to deal, I-" his voice cracked and he pulled her so close, that she didn't have enough air to breathe for a moment. But she also knew he needed it.

He loosened his grip slightly then bent down, finding her mouth for a desperate kiss, his hands digging into her hair. When the kiss ended, they were both breathless for a moment, "I need you," he said, planting kisses on her forehead, on her lids, on he nose, then finally finding her mouth again, this time kissing her gently, softly.

Then he sowed for a moment and pulled back completely, "I can't help worrying, Buffy. But that doesn't mean I don't trust your abilities. I hope you know that. You're a good cop. One of the best, I've ever met."

She smiled rising on tiptoe she kissed him slightly, "Thanks. That means a lot. And I promise to be careful. You'll see. This won't go on much longer. With the evidence Cordy gathered already, this'll be over in no time."

"Let's hope you're right," he replied, stroking the back of his hand over her cheek.

****

Simone Chambers' eyes widened when she opened the door of her apartment, "Mike," she said in a mixture of shock and delighted surprise, "What... I mean, come in," she invited with a shy smile.

She hadn't expected him to come so soon, hell, she hadn't expected him to come at all, if she was honest with herself. Not after he'd seen the pictures of her and Riley. She'd broken down that day and he held her. But after she blew her nose and seemed stable again, he told her that he needed some distance, and time to think about the whole situation. She had been devastated. Hating Riley Finn, hating the situation, hating herself, for her own weakness.

"Do you want some coffee?" she asked, looking at the clock. "How come you aren't on duty?" she wanted to know. "I'd expected you to be on a case."

"I am," he replied. "But I could make myself free for an hour. There are things we have to talk about, Simone. And yes, I would like a cup of coffee."

"Fine," she said, her stomach fluttering with nerves. He came to talk. Oh God, what could he want to talk about, she asked herself. "Why don't you sit down and I'll be with you in a moment."

He nodded and went for the living room, while she walked towards the kitchen, every step torture, because her knees were like rubber, not knowing what was about to happen. Glancing at the ring on her hand, she suppressed a hysterical sob. Had he come to tell her he would give it another try or would this be the end? He had looked so serious, his blue eyes suddenly grown up.

After she'd calmed down the last time they'd seen each other, he'd been angry. Not so much, he said, about the pictures. Although he'd certainly been furious about them. No, he had been angry because instead of coming to him, trusting him, she'd made the deal with Riley Finn. All that because her father was playing dirty games.

She'd argued that she loved her father and that he should try to understand her situation. He'd replied he had, and that he understood, but that it still didn't change the fact that her father was a criminal and that he was a cop. And that in the end she had to make a decision. He had left with the words that she should call him as soon as she had made it.

She hadn't called him so far. Torn between the love for her father and for Mike, she had been miserable. She knew that the things her father did were wrong, but he was still her father and her mother was frail after contracting serious pneumonia and Simone didn't know how she'd react if her husband was to be arrested. But she had wanted to call Mike. Day after day she'd glanced at the phone. She had even picked it up once or twice, severely tempted to call him.

And now he was here. Had come to her apartment. And she knew without doubt that she loved him more than anything.

With a shaky hand she poured coffee, spilling a great part on the counter, then added cream and sugar, the way Mike liked it. Taking a deep steadying breath, she turned and plastered a smile on her face when she entered the living room. "Here you go," she said and put the cup down in front of him. Not knowing what to do with her nervous hands, the linked them together, wringing them. "Now. What did you want to talk about?"

"Us," he replied, sipping from his coffee. "I want to see if there's still an 'us'."

"There is," she said quickly, urgently, "I strongly believe in that us."

He nodded, his gaze solemn, "That's good, because if this, 'us', can still have a future is totally up to you."

******

Angel held Buffy close and planted a last lingering kiss on her lips before he released her hesitantly. "Don't forget. Call me," he told her, his hand running over her hair, then for a second resting on her cheek.

She put her hand over his, "I will. I promise. You'll see, this will all be over soon," she smiled, and then turned towards her car that was parked at the next corner.

Angel turned as well, making his way to his car that he had left at the opposite corner of the block. He didn't like the situation of Buffy in danger, but there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. They would have to get through with this, and hope that nobody was harmed.

He was about to turn back to catch a last view on Buffy and maybe wave her goodbye when there was suddenly a blinding light and explosion shattering through the street.

Angel whirled around and his world stopped. There was no doubt what had happened. There was fire and smoke coming from the other end of the street, from the exact spot where Buffy's car had been only seconds before. Even from this distance it was clear and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. Then in pure agony he shouted her name.

Part 27

Angel stood at the third-floor window of the L.A. General Hospital, his forehead resting against the cool glass, his hands hidden in his pockets. Behind him the personnel of the hospital performed their duties, from several rooms he could hear beeps and the smell of antiseptic was in the air.

Outside the window the sun was shining brightly on this Californian afternoon, while the streets were busy, people walking around as they did every day, mothers laughing to her children, none of them wearing the shocked expression of the people who had witnessed the explosion of Buffy's car, while Angel had been kneeling on the ground, his lover's bruised, bloody, and unconscious body in his arms, calling the ambulance at the same time.

The rescue team who'd arrived on the scene had taken them straight to the hospital, where ER doctors fought to counter the effects of the deadly explosion. That had been two hours ago. Buffy had been wheeled into surgery and he hadn't heard a word since then.

"Do you want some coffee?"

Angel slightly turned his head and looked at Faith who was standing beside him, a worried expression on her face. She and Drusilla were the detectives called to the scene and after doing their work they followed him and Buffy to the hospital. "No, thanks," he replied, his voice hoarse.

"Can we do anything else?" Dru came to stand beside her partner, her face wearing the same expression.

"No," Angel shook his head. "I don't want anything."

Faith nodded, then began to chew her lower lip as if considering something. Finally, after exchanging a glance with Dru, she said, "The bomb was remote-controlled."

He turned his head again, "What?" he asked, as if he hadn't understood. And he hadn't. He wasn't able to pay real attention, his mind wandering again and again to the swing doors that marked the entrance to surgery.

"The bomb," Faith repeated gently, touching his arm slightly with her hand, "It was remote controlled. From what we got from the people who were around, it seems that Buffy turned at the last moment to help a child who had fallen with his bike. That saved her life."

"You don't know that," he said harshly, looking out of the window again.

"Yes, we do, I talked to the mother-"

"That it saved her life," he interrupted angrily. "She was alive - barely. But the doctor said it's a close call."

Faith blanched and pulled her hand away, while Dru stepped closer, "Angel, Faith didn't mean-"

He stopped her with an impatient gesture of his hand, "I know," he said and shook his head, "I'm sorry. I'm..." he trailed off, sighing and shaking his head again.

"We know," Drusilla said softly. "But she's strong, Angel. She'll make it."

He managed to give her a grateful smile, but didn't comment it. He couldn't talk about it. Hell, he could barely bring himself to think about the fact that the woman he loved more than anything was laying on an operation desk, fighting for her life. He had never felt so helpless as he felt right now. Buffy was hurt, maybe dying, and there was nothing he could do.

They all looked up when they heard people running towards them and then Cordelia, Xander and Spike appeared at the end of the hallway. And they were running. Panting they came to a stop in front of them. Reaching for Angel's arm, Cordelia tried to catch her breath, "Angel, oh God. How is she?"

"Still in surgery," he replied. "We don't know anything so far. It's a miracle that she's still alive."

Cordelia blinked sudden tears away, trying to keep herself together. She could see that Angel was on the edge and she couldn't fall apart now. "What happened?" she wanted to know and listened intently, as did Spike and Xander, when Faith told them what they had found out.

Angel tuned their voices out. He couldn't listen. He knew what had happened, and he didn't need to hear it again. Someone had placed a bomb under Buffy's car and it had exploded when she'd come near. Only the fact that she had a soft heart and had tried to help a child had saved her life. For now. He took a deep breath, holding a tight rein on his emotions. He wouldn't help her if he let go now. She would need him, later, when the doctors were through with her. And if... he closed his eyes tightly... No, he couldn't imagine the worst. She had to make it through it. She just had to.

He started when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, "You holding up?"

"Yeah," Angel replied glancing over his shoulder at Spike, then straightened and turned fully around. "I'm not going to fall apart. There's too much to do. She's going to need me and then there's the person who did this."

Spike nodded, squeezing his friend's shoulder, "That's the spirit. And we'll get them. The cop, and the men behind all this. The lieutenant will be here in a coule minutes. He was out of town this morning and needs to drive back."

The dark-haired man nodded, then looked at the swing-doors again. "I love her, Spike," he said, "I can't lose her."

"You won't. She loves you too, man. And she's a fighter. I'm sure she doesn't want to leave you."

Angel released a pent up breath, "God, I hope you're right. I don't know what to do if..." he trailed off, not able to voice his worst nightmare.

*

Two hours later they were still standing in the hallway in front of the swinging doors waiting for news of Buffy. A nurse had come out, but besides a compassionate smile she hadn't been able to give them anything. Giles had tried to give them hope by saying that it was a good sign if it lasted long. The lost cases were given up easily. But somehow it didn't help.

Angel was standing with his back at the wall now, his head leaned back too, his eyes closed. They had tried to talk to him, but after a while they caught on that all he wanted was to be left alone.

Willow and Xander had joined the crowd some time ago and were waiting with the others now, the redhead pale and sniffling quietly, her head resting on her childhood friend's shoulder, her thoughts with her wounded girlfriend in the operating room.

Combing her hair away from her face, Cordelia sighed and looked around just in time to see Spike glancing at Drusilla then quickly turning his head away when he saw her looking at him too. The brunette lifted a curious eyebrow and walked over to the blond detective.

"Do I see clouds in the sunny sky?" she asked, glad for any distraction from the heavy thoughts in her mind. When Spike turned to look at her with a question in his eyes, she said, "I got the impression that you and Dru were an item now. So I'm just wondering if there's already trouble in paradise."

Spike glanced quickly into Dru's direction and then narrowed his eyes at Cordelia. "Hey, don't eat me alive," she said, "I just couldn't help noticing the... uh... hostile atmosphere."

"She found out why I really came to L.A.," he said curtly.

"I see," she said after a moment. "Well, I can understand why she's angry."

His head jerked around, "You, what? You were the one who started the whole mess, and now you understand *her*?"

"Whoa," Cordelia held up a hand. "You agreed to work for IA. And just for the record. I didn't start this mess. Our suspect did." She paused for a moment, eyed him carefully. "You love her, huh?"

"Yeah, damn right, I love her," he ground out between gritted teeth. "Not that it concerns you."

"Does she love you too?"

"Hell, if I knew," he replied, closing his eyes. "She never said a word about her feelings. If I just..." He opened his eyes with a snap, "Well, it's no use now. She hates me. She thinks I used her. That I used the opportunity for a close observation with a little bit of good old sex thrown in."

"But you didn't. And maybe you should try making her see that," she proposed, "You made a mistake and you know that. The moment you realized your feelings for her, the moment you became involved with her you should have told me."

Spike let out a harsh breath, and ran a hand through his hair, "Damn, I know that. I just thought..." he shook his head, disgusted with himself, "I was a bloody damned fool. And I have no idea how to make her see that."

"You will." Cordelia put a hand on his shoulder, "If she cares about you, she'll listen."

He looked at her doubtfully, "And if not?"

"Well," the brunette said, compassion in her eyes, "Then you've got all the answers you need."

Spike gazed at her for a long moment, and then nodded slowly, "Yeah. You're right. The question is, if I can live with it."

*

Everybody looked up when the swinging doors finally opened, and a doctor came out, his clothes drenched in sweat, he was removing his hat, and running a hand over his wet skull. "Mr. Reardon?" he looked around and then nodded when Angel stepped forward. "Yes," he said, his voice barely working.

"She's alive," the doctor started, getting relieved sounds from all sides. "It was close," he went on. "Her spleen was ruptured and we had to remove it. Her liver was ruptured as well, but we managed to sew it up. There was some damage to her intestines, but that was only a minor complication. Our biggest problem was her blood loss, but after hours of hard work," he smiled wryly, "and the help of modern technique, her constitution is steady at the moment." Looking directly at Angel, he added, "If there aren't any more complications, I'm quite optimistic. As I said, it was a close call, but she's a fighter, she never gave up." He nodded again and was about to leave, when Angel held him back.

"Can I see her?" he asked.

"She'll be moved to the ICU now and she needs rest," he smiled again, "but you can see her for five minutes. I'll inform the nurse. She'll get you later and take you there."

"Thanks," Angel said, and there was a world of meaning in this one word. The doctor understood. It hadn't been the first operation of this kind for him. He knew what relatives and friends went through in such situations and he knew that they could hardly find words afterwards. "It's my job," he said simply and left.

*****

"She's alive," the voice on the other end of the line hissed angrily. "The bitch is alive."

Floyd Brady almost dropped the expensive Cuban cigar he'd been lighting only seconds before. Swearing viciously, he looked at Lyle over the desk, "What do you mean she's alive?" he asked.

"I thought it was easy to understand. She survived the attack. Your man made a mess of this."

"He doesn't make mistakes," Floyd replied, putting his cigar down, reaching for a pen instead. "He never did before."

"Well, he did this time. Summers survived. The doctor said she's going to be fine. The news is allover the precinct. The lieutenant just announced it with a big grin on his face."

Floyd swore again, while he was busy scribbling something on a piece of paper, then handed it over to Lyle, whose eyes widened when he saw what his boss had written. "It doesn't really matter if she survived or not," Floyd told the cop at the other end of the line, "It was meant to be a warning and I think they understood it nevertheless."

"Just don't do such a sloppy job again."

"Don't threaten me," Floyd warned.

"I'm the one on the front line. Tell Griffin, I'm going to expect a raise for... let's call it growing danger. It's my head they'll be cutting off if they ever find out."

"They won't," Floyd replied, slamming the receiver down. "Idiot," he hissed, and then remembered that Lyle was still sitting opposite to him. "Why are you still sitting here? You've got an order."

"But boss-"

Floyd raised a brow, as if to tell the other man that he wasn't used to have his decisions questioned and Lyle shut up immediately, "Get this on the way. Zack will know what to do and tell him... if he fails me again, it'll be the last time."

*****

same day, 10.00 p.m.

Buffy opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the bright light that came from the ceiling, irritated by the beeping noises around her. Where was she? It looked and smelled a lot like a hospital, but why would she be at a hospital, she wondered. She remembered starting the day in Angel's arms, making love to him, then they Cordelia and the others had arrived and then - nothing. She couldn't remember a single thing. How very odd.

She tried to move, and a sharp pain shot through her whole body, making her groan. God, what had happened to her?

"Buffy?"

"Angel?" she said and was glad she was able to turn her head without pain. She stifled a gasp when she saw him sitting beside her, his eyes tired and red-rimmed, a stubble allover his chin, while deep worry lines had etched into his handsome face. "What... what happened?"

"Don't you remember?" he asked, worried.

She shook her head and groaned at the new pain. Mental note, no fast movements, she thought. "No. I... it's so muddled." There was a note of panic in her voice. What had happened? Had she lost her memory? Why didn't she remember?

"Shhh," he said and pulled her hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "Your car blew up." He saw her eyes widen, "Yeah. I thought you..." his voice broke and he had to start again as he fought the horrible images that were still in his minds. Images of Buffy's car bursting into flames, the smoke, and then finding her bruised body on the pavement, refused to leave alone. "I thought you were dead," he managed finally. "I thought I'd lost you." He buried his face in her hand for a moment, savoring the warmth of it, then he kissed the pulse at her wrist, the sign that she had managed to pull through.

She wetted her dry lips, "Wha- what happened to me?"

"You were in surgery for over four hours," he told her, holding her hand in his, needing the contact, the assurance that she was truly alive, that he wasn't dreaming. "They had to remove your spleen. But the doctor assured us that you could live without it. Your liver and gut was damaged too, but the doc put you back together. He said you were great in there, a real pro." He wasn't able to keep his tears at bay anymore and they ran freely over his cheeks now.

With all the emotions she felt in her eyes she looked at him, reached up with her hand and touched his lips with her thumb, "I love you," she whispered.

He kissed her thumb, "I love you too. I love you so much."

"I know," she smiled now, and then yawned.

"Sleep," he whispered. "I'm staying. I'm your personal bodyguard and have to stay anyway."

Her smile widened, "Good," she said, already half asleep. "Love you."

He kissed her hand again, wiped his tears away. "I love you too, baby," he whispered, "I love you too."

Part 28

Friday, September 8th, 10.00 a.m., Los Angeles

"I want this over."

"I understand," Giles said gently, looking at Angel's back. The dark-haired detective stood in the middle of the Interrogation room at Internal Affairs, staring at the one-way mirror, while Cordelia, Spike, and Xander were sitting at the desk with the lieutenant. Tim Philips, the District Attorney, and Brent Harley, the boss of I.A, had joined the little group.

It was the first meeting they held since Buffy had been so seriously injured by the bomb that had been planted underneath her car on Wednesday. Fortunately she was making unexpected progress and had been moved from ICU to a regular room the night before. She would, of course, need more time to heal properly and it would be at least a week before the doctors would even consider releasing her. But Angel was finally able to function again with the encouraging development.

Giles could understand better than anyone how it felt to see the woman you loved so close to death. He remembered being in with the ambulance with Jenny on the way to the hospital and he could also remember seeing her die in that car, only five minutes before they reached the Emergency Unit. He had loved her with all his heart and in a matter of minutes she'd been taken away from him.

He had been like a ghost afterwards, only his work keeping him upright and able to go on. The years that followed had been long and empty and filled with grief. But it had been years now and lately he found himself more and more tired of coming back into his empty house night after night. There were no arms waiting for him, nobody was meeting him there, talking to him, giving him warmth and love.

"I do too."

Giles forced his thoughts back to the more pressing matters, when Cordelia's voice sounded through the room.

"But although I want the person responsible for Buffy's accident-"

"Someone blew up her car," Angel interrupted, his voice low and angry, his eyes blazing at her, "I'd hardly call that an accident."

Knowing Cordelia's temperament, Giles had expected for her to give Angel some snotty reply, but the assistant DA obviously had realized how tightly strung the dark-haired man's nerves were at the moment. Better not ignite an already smoldering live wire.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, looking apologetically at Angel. "I agree. The expression was a bit... uh... off. Anyways. I want the person as badly as... almost... everyone else in this room." She glanced at Angel again and he took a deep breath and returned the apology with his eyes.

Giles was sure that the dark-haired detective wasn't feeling apologetic at the moment. Angel wanted to go out and beat the crap out of the person who'd set the bomb under Buffy's car and out of the person who'd given the order to do it. And more than anything he wanted the dirty cop who'd been going against his fellow officers, people who'd saved that person's ass more than once.

Well, tough luck, Giles thought. Angel's going have to wait in line for that special punch, because Giles felt a certain itch in his right fist too. Of course he was a police officer and that would prevent him from making good on his silent threat. But he sure as hell would be part of the interrogation team. He wanted to look that person in the eye and hear with his own ears what had happened to turn a good, reliable cop into scum.

"What Miss Chase wants to say," Tim Philips said, "is that we're going to get those guys. All of them. But we need to do it right. The legal way. Nothing else. I know how you feel-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Sir," Xander spoke for the first time, "but you hardly understand how we feel. One of our own colleagues is part of an operation that almost cost the life of another colleague. A friend. Buffy Summers. No Sir. You have no idea how we feel."

"I accept that," Tim Philips replied on a nod. "Maybe I don't really understand. But that doesn't change a thing. I'm just warning you. Don't pull some private Vendetta here. I know your girlfriend, your friend or colleague was hurt. Seriously hurt, but-"

"Make that life-threatening," Spike threw in, hating the fact that he had to listen to this. He glanced at Angel whose hands were clenched into fists, and who, so the blond could see, was fighting not to lose his control. Spike knew how he felt. Well, not exactly, of course, but he hadn't seen Drusilla in 48 long hours. He had tried to call her, wanting to talk, wanting to explain. So far she had blocked every attempt.

Damn. He loved her. Couldn't she see that? Why on earth couldn't she see that he was missing her so badly he'd hardly slept the last two days? God, he was going to go crazy sooner or later. But maybe she wanted that. Maybe she wanted him to do something stupid, like grovel in front of her door.

The worst, however, was that he would grovel. He wouldn't hesitate for a second if he'd see a chance to change her hostile attitude. But at the moment, he saw none.

Zilch. Zero.

She didn't so much as look at him.

He wanted to scream. But of course he knew that it wouldn't help either.

"Yes. Life-threatening," Tim agreed with a nod, his eyes sharp, holding a silent warning. "To make this totally clear here, detectives. I want those assholes. But I want a case that cannot be twisted around by some smart, very expensive lawyer, who spends his holidays in Aspen by defending slime. There will be no Lone Ranger playing. You will do this by the law. Each step. Is that understood?"

He looked around and when nobody said a word, he nodded again. He turned his head and gazed at Brent Harley, "What about Judge Fowler. Did he sign the papers?"

"Yes," Brent smiled, but it was so cold, it could have turned the Sahara into ice. "He signed them. He didn't want at first, but I reminded him of something," he shrugged, "Well, I knew something. We'll leave it at that. We can start this thing, the moment you give your okay."

"See it as given," Tim replied, and this time his eyes fell on Angel, "Detective Reardon, I need to be sure that you're able to do this. You have to be absolutely sure that you won't snap."

"I'm not going to blow this case," the dark-haired man retorted. "I've got this covered. The person was close to everyone of us, not just to me."

"Yeah," Xander agreed, and then amended his statement by adding, "but she was a lot closer to you. A hell of lot closer. At least for a while. So you should know her better than we do. Are you sure it will work?"

"Yes," Angel's voice was firm, "It will. I have to make the final phone-call and afterwards, the show is on."

****

"I'm scared." Simone Chambers turned to look at her fiancée, her eyes huge and frightened, her lips trembling, while her hands were wringing the hem of her shirt.

"I know," he replied gently, crossing the room and taking her in his arms. "I am too. More for your than my sake. But I also know that if we want any kind of future together, this has to be done." He reached up and traced the line of her delicate cheek with his forefinger, "I don't want you to go to jail, baby. I want to live with you, preferably for the rest of my natural life," he smiled, "I also want a baby with you, or maybe even more than one. But that can only work if we're clean here."

Although his words sent a warm shock through her whole system that was the temperature of ice at the moment, she shivered in his arms, "I want all those things too," she admitted, her voice quivering. "I love you so much. But my father-"

"Has done all these things by himself. Your father is a smart man, Simone. He did what he did with open eyes, and aware of the consequences. I know you love him, and I can only try to understand what this will cost you, but he can't expect you to close your eyes all the time." Suddenly his smile vanished and the look in his eyes was hard, "And he certainly can't expect you to sell yourself for him."

"Mike-"

"No," he shook his head, covered her lips with his for a moment, soothing her with the kiss, soothing him by the connection. She was here in his arms and he would keep her safe. "I told you, I don't blame you. At least not anymore. But I do blame your father. I know, he knows nothing of what you did for his sake, but without his doing these things you wouldn't have been forced to do it in the first place."

"Sometimes, when I sleep," she whispered, pressing her cheek against his chest, "I can feel his hands on me. His laughter in my ears. And I want to die in shame."

"God, baby." Mike's voice was hoarse. It was a pity that a sniper had shot Riley Finn. He would've gladly gone and ripped the asshole's heart out. He knew that Riley had been blackmailed himself and that he'd done what he'd done only to save his sister's life, but that didn't change the fury Mike felt each time he thought that his colleague had forced himself on Simone.

"I'm so glad you don't hate me for it," she said, her voice quivering again, "I couldn't live thinking you hated me."

"I love you," he told her firmly. "And we're going to get through this. And then we're going to have the future we're dreaming of. You have to believe me."

"I do," she whispered, holding him close, pressing herself even closer. And she did. She believed him. But she also knew that believing wasn't always enough.

When the phone finally rang, they pulled away from each other and looked into each other's eyes.

The show would begin.

****

Darla Massey narrowed her eyes and glanced at her sister through the mirror, "I cannot believe you're so stupid." She shook her head, "After all the things I had to do to clear up this mess for you."

Diana studied her long red fingernails and snorted, "What *you* had to do? Gee, should I sink down on my knees and thank you for it now?"

"No," Darla replied, still stunned that a person who looked so much alike she, could be so completely different. The sisters or rather twins, had never been close. Only recently it had changed. But not because they wanted it to. "I don't expect you to thank me. But when this is over, I don't want to be bothered with your life ever again."

"My life?" Diane raised a haughty brow, "At least I have something resembling a life. You on the other hand, dear sis, have spent your best years lusting after a guy who never really wanted you in the first place."

At the mention of Angel Darla whirled around, her eyes blazing with fury, "Don't you dare to bring him up. Angel is absolutely none of your business. I'm only here because *you* needed my help. It's also the most stupid thing I've ever done in my life. I betrayed the department, I lied to my boss and my colleagues and I did other things I'm not very proud of. Only to save your sorry ass." She laughed slightly, but it wasn't a happy sound, "No, please don't thank me. Just stay out of trouble in the future. That's thanks enough."

"How was I to know that David Griffin was a drug dealer?" Diane asked. "He was so nice to me. A real gentleman."

"Some gentleman," Darla snorted, then sighed in defeat. Her sister would never change. If she never saw her again, it was still too soon. Not that she didn't love her sister, because she did. She had always loved Diane. Why else would she do the things she'd done over the past months? But Darla was sure she would love her sister even more from a safe distance. A phone call once or twice a year would be enough.

She was contemplating how to tell her sister exactly that, when suddenly her cell phone rang.

Go to Part 29