Part 9

Thursday, August 24th, 7.00 a.m., Los Angeles

"So what you're telling me is that the girl of the night, the girl - or rather the woman - accompanying David Griffin to the Chambers' engagement party was Diana Massey?"

"That's what I'm saying," Angel said, picking up his cup of coffee and carefully sipping at the hot brew. These early morning meetings with Cordelia Chase were going to be fun, he thought acidly. It's not that he wasn't a morning person. Actually he was, but he still liked his mornings more private, not completely taken over by business.

She was all business, sitting opposite to him, dressed in a conservative navy suit, from head to toe screaming that she was the assistant DA. Not the sassy fiancée of his friend who was - no doubt - still sleeping like a baby in his satin sheets. Doyle, as Angel recalled, wasn't a morning person and it would be fun to see those two married for the next fifty odd years.

"And may I ask why you didn't tell me this yesterday?" the brunette asked. "Or did you just think, 'hey this isn't important. Why bother Cordelia with this development about my ex-lover's sister.'?" Her voice had risen during the speech and her eyes were blazing.

His narrowed in reply and an expression entered them who was more than just a simple warning, "Be careful," he said slowly, his voice low.

She looked at him for a long moment, and then threw her hands up in defeat, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'm just," she paused and sighed. Then took a sip from her coffee. Putting the cup down she gazed back at him, her voice and eyes apologetic, "I'm really sorry, but this business isn't any fun for me either. I had a rather annoying interrogation yesterday with our beloved Riley Finn. If I hadn't know it already, after yesterday I'd swear he's the lowest form of life on this planet. A definite..." she trailed off, but of course he knew what she was thinking.

"I see," he replied, choosing his words carefully. He knew that Cordelia wouldn't tell him what had happened during the interrogation, and he wouldn't ask, but, "So he wasn't quite the gentleman, I assume?"

"Gentleman," she echoed, and the disgust so thick that, that one word held said more than a whole novel ever would. "I asked him about Operation Delta and there was a flicker in his eyes, you know. It was quick, but it was there. I have no idea what it means, but my boss certainly has Finn on his list. And believe me, you wouldn't want to be on Timothy Philips' list."

"Well, I for once don't care if he's got Riley on his list or not," Angel said and meant it. Lists were just that, lists. He was more interested in finding out if Riley had his hands in shady business - or if it was Riley at all. And besides, he thought, this wasn't about Riley. This was about finding a foul egg. "And I have no idea if the fact that David Griffin is dating Diana Massey has anything to do with Darla. They never really got along. At least not while Darla and I were dating. I saw Diana, once, twice max."

"But you're sure about her? I mean you're sure it was her?"

"Oh, yeah," Angel nodded and ran a hand through his hair, "It's not really complicated," he told Cordelia, "If you know Darla, you know Diana. They're twins."

Cordelia almost choked on her coffee and was about to say something, when the door of a room opened and a sleepy eyed and rather groggy Spike stumbled into the living room, only wearing his boxers – the same way he had a couple days ago. Blinking against the Californian morning sun, he cast his eyes on the brunette, "Oh, Miss District Attorney," he grinned, although it was rather lopsided, due to the fact that the whole left side of his face was covered with interesting colors.

"What the..." Angel was on his feet in an instant, eyeing his friend closely, "Whatever happened to you last night?"

Spike's smile changed into a pain-filled grimace and he touched his cheek gingerly, "I... uh... had an argument with a local shi... idiot, so to speak."

"Some argument," Cordelia commented sarcastically. "I'd say it grew rather out of hand."

"Not really," the blond replied, groaning when he touched a special spot near his eyebrow. Glancing sideways at Cordelia, he said, "I had a date with Drusilla last night. We went to a nice club. I found it yesterday when we drove by and thought it might be a nice change to the Splash. So I took her there," he sighed deeply, "big mistake. Next time remind me not to chose a club if you're not familiar with the town."

"So what happened?" Angel wanted to know, sitting down again and crossing his arms in front of his chest, watching his friend expectantly.

"Well," Spike began while he was walking to the kitchen and back, completely unconcerned about his lack of clothing, to get an empty cup, "seems the club belongs to the brother of an asshole Dru dated before. He wasn't the nicest guy, she told me. Crossed Vice. So there we are and as soon as the asshole's brother spots Dru he begins to taunt her. Gentleman I am, I couldn't just sit by and watch, you know."

"So you... um... decided to save the lady's honor, right?" Angel said, now grinning.

"So to speak," Spike replied, pouring himself coffee. Caffeine was a necessity. His head was pounding from a mix of alcohol and being beaten up by two gorillas and the fact that he'd been the noble one and just brought Drusilla home instead of trying to get her between the sheets - preferably his.

And that alone was enough reason for a severe headache. Because it pointed out that Drusilla wasn't just some casual fling. The blond groaned inwardly. Not that he hadn't already noticed the problem. But it was the absolute wrong time to fall in love with a possible suspect. Sure, Angel swore, Drusilla was clean, but Spike was a cop and as a cop he knew you had to expect the unexpected.

When he looked up he saw Cordelia's gaze resting on him, "What?" he asked. "Isn't a guy allowed to play the protector?"

"Some protector," she snorted, shaking her head. "From the looks of you I'd say you ended up in the gutter. Or do the others look worse?"

"No, not really," he admitted rather quietly. "But hey," he glanced at Angel, "they were two, with really big muscles and really mean faces."

"Oh, this is just great. One of my internal officers goes out and lets himself be used as a punching bag. Wonderful." Cordelia glared at him.

"Hey, lady. I was out with a girl," Spike wasn't looking at his coffee anymore. No, his eyes were solely directed at Cordelia and they were rather angry now, "A guy insulted her. What should I do? Just sit there and watch? In your dreams." With a last look he stood up and walked into his bedroom, slamming the door in her face.

"Explosive character, your friend," Cordelia remarked, turning back towards Angel.

"Not really," he replied and tilted his head. "He's just protective. He always was. With women and with his partner and I'm more than grateful for it."

"Yeah, I heard," she said, all humor vanished from his face. "He saved your life one night. I read the reports. It's rather impressive. He carried you on his shoulders for over six miles. Regarding your height and weight and his, it's very impressive."

"He's my friend and my partner. I would've done the same for him. But yeah, it's impressive and I owe him."

This was becoming far too personal, Cordelia decided, "What impression did you get of Mike Harmon and his girl? Is this relationship real?"

"It looks like it," Angel was grateful for the change of subjects. He wasn't comfortable talking about Spike and his relationship with him with Cordelia. The things they had done for each other were between them - and that meant private. "He couldn't keep his hand off the woman. And she was smiling at him like he'd hung the moon."

"Good for him," Cordelia commented. "And for us. If it's love, I highly doubt the money is important. Mike doesn't strike me as the type who needs money to impress a woman. He isn't self-conscious."

"No, he isn't," Angel, agreed. "I like him actually. He's got a great sense of humor and he's got a lot of experience for his age. Besides, Derryl Chambers has money, and yeah, David Griffin was a guest at the party, but that doesn't really mean anything."

"I know," Cordelia sighed again, "It's just... I hate this. You know, digging through our own trenches to find a traitor."

"Yeah," he agreed again. There was nothing worse than a dirty cop. Cops were meant to protect and to clean up, not to change sides. Oh yeah, a dirty cop was definitely the worst.

"So who will you be watching next?" she asked.

Angel shrugged, "We haven't decided yet. Maybe Kate Lockley. We'll have to see. We have to decide what the best opportunity is. Spike's going to shadow Darla today," he then added, "We need to find out if she'll contact her sister. We already watched her yesterday, but nothing so far."

Cordelia nodded, and then changed the subject again, "Buffy told me what you did for her. When her oh so wonderful soon-to-be ex was behaving like the asshole he is."

He gave her an irritated look, "Yeah, and?"

"And nothing. You did good," she smiled, "She had and sometimes still has it rough, you know. Riley wasn't just cheating on her. I'm certainly not supposed to tell you, and she never told me, but women just know some things."

"Cordelia," now he grew even more irritated.

"He beat her," as if the words hurt her mouth, she spat them.

Angel stared at her, then was on his feet in a flash, his motions jerky, he ran a suddenly trembling hand through his hair, "Jesus Christ," he muttered, beginning to pace the room. "You're sure?" he asked, stopping shortly to glance at her, then continued pacing.

"Yeah," she replied. "Makeup can't cover everything. I'm sure the others were completely oblivious, but I always had a thing for makeup."

"No kidding," he remarked, but it didn't sound funny. Actually it sounded as if he was ready to hit something. Really hard.

"Yeah, well, anyways. I noticed that the color of the eye shadow on her left lid didn't really match the one on her right. I never asked, knowing how uncomfortable women are about it. And as Riley moved out of their apartment the same afternoon, it didn't happen again. But of course I'm not sure if he ever did it before."

"He's lucky I wasn't around," Angel hissed through gritted teeth. He had stopped pacing, his fists clenching and unclenching in a steady rhythm. "I would've beat him into a bloody pulp. God," he asked nobody in particular, "Did I ever know him at all?"

"Seems Spike isn't the only one with a protective streak," Cordelia said as she came to stand beside him. Tentatively she reached out and touched his arm. When he turned his head to look at her, she gave him a warm smile, "It's over," she said slowly. "She'll be divorced soon and all this will be nothing more than a bad dream."

"You're wrong," he replied, not heeding to her smile, "those things never leave you. You can get divorced. But things like that will change you forever." Turning to look out of the window again, he frowned and Cordelia wasn't sure if he was just trying to blink the tears in his eyes away. "Did you ever look into her eyes? Really look? They're so sad. So lost. They used to sparkle with mischief. They used to laugh. Almost all the time. Sure, a part of this was vanished when Mike was shoot and she thought I'd killed him," he suddenly laughed harshly, "Geez, for all I know she still blames me."

"No," Cordelia said firmly, her fingers on his arms tightening, urging him to look at her again. "She doesn't blame you for her brother's death. She probably never did." She saw the incredulous expression in his eyes and shook her head, "Angel, she was devastated when Mike was killed. You know how long she needed to finally accept him. He was the embodiment of her father's failure to love her mother. But then she loved him. She really loved him. And then he was killed, and with your weapon.

"From there everything fell apart. *She* fell apart. I saw her, Angel. She couldn't eat or sleep. After a while she couldn't even cry anymore. She certainly couldn't think clearly. By the time she woke up she knew she was wrong, that you wouldn't have shot Mike, not even unintentionally. You're a too good cop, and I know you loved her." She tilted her head, "Probably never stopped loving her."

He just looked at her steadily, his expression not changing and she wanted to scream. One thing she'd always hated about Angel Reardon was his ability to hide his feelings. Damn the man. "Anyways," she continued, "As I said, she woke up. Unfortunately she found herself married to Riley and you were already gone to New York. You don't just throw your marriage away and run after a guy whom you just hurt by rejecting him."

Now his eyes widened in surprise. His expression was a little dazed when he whispered "I always thought you saw me responsible for all this mess."

She couldn't help it, but she had to laugh, "Sorry," she said instantly. "I know this isn't a laughing matter. But no, I never thought you responsible for it. Or only a little bit. Maybe I blamed you for not fighting harder, for not being a bit more stubborn."

"I didn't want to cause her more pain." His voice was still not more than a whisper. Then it hit him, "She really doesn't blame me?"

Her smile warmed even more, "No," she assured him. "So maybe knowing that, you could... well, try to right the wrong?"

"Cordelia," he sighed loudly, "I... I just don't know. It's been four years. A long time. A lot of things happened. I don't even know how she feels about me. If she's still interested."

"Well," she let go of his hand, her smile turning a bit wicked, "As I see it, you'll never know until you try."

Part 10

##...## Indicates flashbacks

The same day, 11.00 a.m.

"So you see, Detective Summers," Giles was saying, "We need this report by Monday - and that's the last possible date..."

Buffy nodded absentmindedly at his words, tuning out from time to time, her eyes repeatedly flickering to Drusilla's desk outside the lieutenant's office, her irritation growing by the second.

Angel was there with the raven-haired woman, he was sitting on the edge of her desk, laughing from time to time, leaning forward toward her. They made a picture perfect couple. She couldn't hear a word they were saying and it was very likely the whole scene was completely innocent, but she couldn't help the distinct pang of jealousy she was feeling at the sight of them so close.

There never had been anything between Angel and his rookie four years ago but that didn't mean it couldn't happen now. But hadn't she noticed that Spike had shown interest in Drusilla? Angel wouldn't try to hit on his friend's love-interest, not after what he'd been through himself. Buffy was sure of that, if nothing else.

And why the hell did she care anyway? She had no claim on Angel Reardon, with his deep brown eyes you wanted to drown in, his sensual mouth, the well muscled body and... God, just shoot me, she thought. She had no right to feel this way, she told herself firmly. Not after she'd sent him away, when he came all but begging her to rethink her decision, not to throw their love away and she'd told him she hadn't known a thing about love, until Riley had come along and shown her the real thing.

Real thing, my ass, she snorted inwardly. Yes, Riley certainly had shown her the real thing. But it hadn't been love. Far from it. As far as Riley was concerned, love could've been a word from old Egyptian it was so foreign to him. Jealousy, anger, bitterness. Those were more the words he was acquainted with. And violence.

Now Angel was leaning forward and one of his hands came to lie on Drusilla's shoulder. She had to turn away, not able to watch any longer and she started when her gaze landed on Giles who had stopped talking and was eyeing her closely, speculatively. "What?" she asked, trying to shake off the images that were running wild in her head. Angel kissing Drusilla, undressing her, making... God, maybe she was finally going to lose it. But she could still feel his hands on her, stroking her, his voice soothing her, telling her everything would be all right after Riley had tried to hurt her in the worst possible way.

"I was just wondering where you were," Giles said gently, then turned his head, nodding pointedly at Angel and Drusilla who were now laughing wholeheartedly. "Of course it wasn't hard to figure out."

"I'm sorry," she replied, the fingers of her right hand playing with her long, blond hair. "I seem to have problems concentrating today. Didn't sleep well, I guess. With the upcoming divorce and all," she added.

"Yes, sure, the divorce," Giles said mildly, not hiding that he didn't believe one word she was saying. There was no denying what was disturbing his officer this morning. Not that he thought for one moment that Angel Reardon was even slightly interested in Drusilla Petersen. He was too old not to see the way Angel was looking at Buffy every time he thought she wouldn't see.

Their love affair may have been over for a long time, but Giles was sure the love wasn't - not by a long shot. They just came with a lot of baggage, and regarding that fact it was a rough road they had ahead of them. He admitted to himself that he was wrong to think that it wouldn't be good for Buffy to see Angel again. Reassessing the situation now he was sure it was quite the opposite. For the first time in years Buffy looked more than just plain mentally dead.

"Yeah," the blond replied, glad he didn't insist on talking about Angel. No way she would talk with her boss about Angel, "it's rather messy." She inhaled deeply, "But of course this isn't something that belongs here."

"Oh, I wouldn't agree," he said, giving her a smile, "You and your soon-to-be ex-husband are both detectives of this precinct, so maybe the private parts of the divorce aren't my business, but if it intrudes work it sure as hell is. He's giving you a hard time?"

She looked at him and hesitated for a moment, before she sighed, "Well, he's just Riley I guess. I didn't realize what kind of guy he was when we got together. And I didn't know for a while after we're married. But soon," she sighed again. "This really isn't fun. And now he just behaves... typical, I suppose. Don't get me wrong, I still think he's a good cop, his record is proof of that, but... maybe, we just didn't match."

"Or the situation was wrong," Giles remarked, understanding in his eyes. "You married him when you were very vulnerable, when you thought you'd been betrayed by a man you thought you loved."

There was such deep knowledge in his words that Buffy shivered involuntarily. Her own problems forgotten for the moment, she asked, "Who was she?" Startled by her blunt question, he drew a sharp breath, and she held up a hand, "You don't have to tell me. It's not any of my business," she said, smiling apologetically.

"No, it isn't," he replied, his smile incredibly sad, "It happened a long time ago. I loved her, very much. But then I found out that she just used me by forwarding all the things I thought were said in private to her brother who happened to be deeply into drugs. So you see, I can relate. Only that Angel didn't do anything."

"No, he didn't," she agreed. "But when all the stuff happened, I wasn't... I couldn't..." she stopped, not really knowing how to explain her feelings the days and weeks after her half-brother had been shot accidentally in a cross-fire with Angel's weapon.

"Think straight?," he asked, his eyes warm and understanding.

All she could reply was giving him a small, miserable nod.

"You don't have to tell me," Giles said gently, "And this," he pointed at a file on his desk, "can certainly wait another day. We could meet tomorrow after lunch to talk about it."

"Thanks," she smiled gratefully, "Thanks, Giles."

"No problem. Maybe you should just talk to him," he suggested.

Now her smile was sad, "I think it's much too late for this. I missed my chance for," she shrugged, "Well, I missed it."

"If you say so," he said, not quite believing her. She was already at the door, when his voice made her turn around, "And Buffy, there will never be anything but friendship between Drusilla Peterson and Angel," he was smiling in the end.

"Yeah, I know," she said, but the sadness was still present, "But that doesn't mean, he's going to risk his heart again with me, does it?" With this she slipped from his office, her gaze instantly turning towards Drusilla's desk, but there was only the female officer, Angel Reardon was nowhere in sight.

*****

17.00 p.m.

Not only Spike hated observations, Angel mused while he was sitting in his car that was standing in front of a huge brick stone house that looked as if it should be standing in Boston. It looked so completely out of place that it was almost funny. Almost.

And the reason Angel was sitting in his car in front of the out-of-place house was that it was another of Derryl Chambers' properties. Simone Chambers had entered the house, and Angel was sure it was to check out the place. What he hadn't expected was for Riley Finn to arrive only minutes afterwards. This had been about an hour ago and neither Mike Harmon's fiancée nor the detective had come out again. Angel couldn't be sure what was going on inside the walls, but it sure was suspicious as hell.

He glanced to his side and sighed at the sight of several empty cans of coke and some other stuff littering his car, all leftovers of Spike's presence during the past days. Not today though. The blond was - as Angel had told Cordelia - following Darla Massey and Angel couldn't wait to hear what he would have to say in the evening. Diana Massey was dating David Griffin. He shook his head. Jesus, this case was certainly complicated.

Despite the litter that was covering the floor of his car, Angel missed Spike today. He missed his cocky retorts and comments, his dry humor and the way he could see things clearly as glass. And he could certainly use that now, when the observation of Simone Chambers had suddenly turned into an observation of Riley Finn as well.

Angel had planned to leave Riley to Spike, as he'd done it with Darla, but now fate had decided against it and although Angel didn't like the situation, there was absolutely nothing he could do to change it. He could hardly call Cordelia and refuse to investigate Riley. Nope, no way he could do that. The brunette would laugh - not in a friendly way - and just slam the receiver back down, thinking he'd lost his marbles.

None of them could understand - maybe not even Spike - how he felt about Riley Finn. His feelings were so mixed up he had a hard time understanding them. When Cordelia had told him about Riley beating Buffy anger had been the dominant one. Not just anger, rage. It had been all he could do not to leave the apartment, search for Riley and beat him up the way he did to Buffy. God, just thinking about it, made Angel's stomach churn.

What on earth had happened to the Riley Finn he'd known almost since they'd played together in pampers? If, and that was the really painful question, he'd ever been there at all. Could all their times together just have been a clever disguise? No, Angel dismissed the thought quickly. No way, a little boy could be that twisted. No, their friendship had been genuine. They had laughed together, joked together. Like the night, after the first football game in their sophomore year in high school when Riley had fallen for Lucy Turner, two years his senior and in the blonde's eyes extremely hot...

##"Man that game's a bitch," Riley slid down along the wall in the boy's locker room, completely exhausted, bruised and hurting, but grinning nonetheless.

"Yeah," Angel agreed, opening the door of his locker and throwing his sweaty sneakers inside. Turning his head he was grinning as well, "But we won."

"We sure have," the blond was wiping his dirty face, a blue bruise already showing under his right eye. "Did you see the huge giant they had in their defense line?" he asked.

"I did," Angel, commented, his grin never wavering, "Got you straight."

Riley chuckled at that and struggled to stand up. Playing high school football could be fun, but he would give a lot for a hot bath now. Tomorrow his body would be hurting like hell. He groaned when he already cold muscles protested against a certain movement, "Don't laugh," he warned his friend, "This isn't funny."

"Oh, but I think it is," the dark-haired boy replied, chuckling as well. "And don't think I didn't see Lucy Turner following every of your moves."

The blonde's head jerked around, "She did?" he asked, wondering why his voice was suddenly sounding so breathless.

"Yeah," Angel chuckled again, incredulously shaking his head, "Although I still can't see why you have the hots for her."

"You can't?" now it was Riley's term to look incredulous. "Do you want to tell me, you haven't seen her great ass and tits? I would bet she needs a D-cup already."

Angel groaned and rolled his eyes, "Is there anything else you are interested in a woman besides her body?"

"Nope," the blond grinned wickedly and pulled his dirt stained shirt over his head, "A great body is pretty much everything. Hey, I'm young. I want to enjoy myself, celebrate live. If not now, I wonder when it's going to happen."

"God, you're gross," his friend said with disgust. Riley could be such a jerk. Ass and tits - hardly the only important attributes of a girl. Not that Angel didn't appreciate certain attributes, but he preferred a girl who could also talk about interesting subjects anytime. Wham-bam in bed might be fun, Angel guessed, but there had to be more. Of course he had no way of really knowing it. He was, much to Riley's amusement, still a virgin.

His friend, of course, wasn't. Not that it was something special to not be a virgin as a sophomore in high school. Angel's mother had been shocked to the bone when he'd told her that most of the guys in his class had already slept with a girl. The world would come to an end, she'd said and it had been so typical for Carmen Reardon, the Mexican girl that had married his thoroughly Irish father. It was her whom he had to thank for his first name, the cause of lots of laughs throughout the years. But his mother was proud of it, always smiling and stroking his head, saying 'you're my Angel. You never brought anything but joy to this family.'

"Gross, huh?" Riley interrupted his musings, "Well, not everyone can be as holy as you, Angel." ##

Had there been an edge in his voice all those years ago, Angel tried to remember now. It had been 20 years ago, too much to be sure he remembered correctly. But maybe even then Riley had been eaten up with the sort of jealousy Angel had experienced in full four years ago. And that was the worst, the fact that he doubted everything now. Every gesture, every friendly arm around his shoulder, every pat on his back - what had been genuine and what... not?

Running a hand through his hair he exhaled a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. God, he hated this. Hated all this stuff being dragged up again. He thought he had left it all behind when he'd moved to New York, burying all his dreams of love and a future in the process. Burying Riley with them. But of course he'd been lying to himself. Things like these had a way of haunting you and he knew there hadn't been a day when Buffy hadn't been on his mind at least for a moment - several times a day. You didn't just leave the love of your life and forget about it. She might have done that, but he had never been able to - although if he believed Cordelia, he hadn't been far from Buffy's thoughts either.

He looked up when the door of the brick house opened and first Simone and then Riley appeared again. There was nothing indicating that it had been more than just a business meeting - even though that was quite strange, regarding the fact that Simone was the daughter of one of the richest men on the west coast and Riley was nothing more than a police officer, the son of poor Irish immigrants.

Angel would have sworn that Simone was in love with Mike Harmon the night before. The way she had touched him, had smiled at him, looked at him.

She was jerking her arm away now from Riley who had tried to touch her, glaring at him, her eyes narrowed and full of hate. What the hell was going on here? Angel wanted to jump from the car and ask them, but of course there was no way he could do that.

Riley was shouting at her now, but they were too far away for Angel to hear what they were saying. She was shouting back, her whole body trembling with rage, her eyes blazing. Then she turned round, slipped inside her car and drove away, the wheels burning the asphalt. She couldn't get away quickly enough.

Riley turned and now that Angel could see his face. He could also see the smile on his face. And it made his blood freeze. It was an evil smile, the smile of a man who held power - over a woman. The woman in question undoubtedly had been Simone. And she hated the blond. But why on earth then had her face been flushed in a way that could only mean one thing?

Damned, if Angel just knew what the hell was going on.

*****

18.30 p.m.

"Welcome in my humble home, my friend and," Doyle paused when Angel just breezed past him without any greeting, then shut the door behind the dark-haired man, "just make yourself at home," he added, certain that Angel hadn't listened to one word he'd been saying.

"Doyle did you remember to put the white wine into the fridge and..." Cordelia was just coming out of the kitchen and stopped dead in tracks when her eyes fell on their visitor. One of her perfect eyebrows rose in a mixture of surprise and indignation, "And what brings you here?"

"The job," Angel said curtly, not even bothering to greet his friends.

"That's too bad," she replied, already turning towards the kitchen again, "because as I already told you, this is job-free time. No work in my free time. We can talk tomorrow, come to my office at noon."

"Screw that," he told her, his voice holding definite anger and annoyance.

Not used to Angel using that kind of language around her, Cordelia froze for a second, and turned back to him - almost in slow motion. Then her eyebrow rose again, "Excuse me?"

He looked at her steadily, "I said screw that. And don't use that attitude on me. For once we know each other too long and too well, secondly I really don't give a damn about your free time. You tell me I have to get used to you showing up at my doorstep at 7.00 a.m., so you have to get used to the fact that important news won't wait until *you* have office hours. Understood?"

Cordelia could only stare at him. From the corner of her eye she saw Doyle was trying to suppress a grin that was threatening to spread across his lips. Of course *he* was enjoying the situation tremendously. Leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, he had the best view of this completely humiliating situation. Well, she knew when she'd lost, she thought. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath, and in opening her eyes again, she said, "Understood."

Doyle almost did a double take at that, and this time the brunette had to suppress a grin. He had expected her to shout and spit at Angel, certainly not to give in like that. But when she looked at him again, she could see the shine of pride in his eyes at her reaction and she knew again why she loved Doyle more than anything in the world. Oh yes, their marriage would be far from boring, but God, she could hardly wait to become Mrs. Doyle.

Angel, obviously as surprised as her soon-to-be husband, had to clear his throat, before he said, "Good."

"Now that we understand each other," Cordelia said, proceeding towards the kitchen to save her Beuf Bovignon from burning into something unrecognizable and definitely un-eatable, "why don't you tell me why you came. What is so important that couldn't wait until tomorrow?" She took the spoon to stir the sauce, not looking at the door, but sensing the movement announcing Angel's presence.

"Actually there are two things I wanted to tell you, and if you remember, it was you who were bitching this morning about not telling you the things a.s.a.p. So here I am."

He was leaning against the doorway now, almost casually, making her blood boil. She really liked Angel Reardon. She really did. Most of the time. But at certain times he could be the most infuriating, most annoying best friend of her soon-to-be husband. On the other hand he was also the best cop she could get for the job and so she swallowed an angry retort, took another calming breath, "I guess I have to accept that," she replied slowly.

He actually had the guts to grin at that. Of all the annoying guys in the world... "I know how difficult this was for you," he said then, surprising her completely. "And I apologize for it. But coming back to the more important subject-"

"Yes, that would be too nice," she retorted sarcastically.

He grinned again, exchanging a wink with Doyle, who was by now sitting on the sofa, sipping at a glass of obviously nice Brandy, still enjoying the exchange, tremendously. "Well, first off, Spike called. Darla met her sister Diana twice today," he told her, "something that's strange enough, but Spike swore that the second time an envelope was exchanged."

Cordelia put the spoon aside, turned to the fridge and holding a cup of cream in her hand looked at him, "Hmm. Interesting. Any ideas what was inside the envelope?"

"None," Angel replied. "But it wasn't money," he added. "Spike is absolutely positive about it and he's the best cop I know."

"Besides you, of course," she remarked, smirking, then poured the cream into her sauce.

"Thanks for the compliment," he said, grinning, but was serious again in an instant, when he continued, "I was following Simone Chambers. I got a phone call late this morning and so used the opportunity to check her out. Turns out that she has some very interesting... acquaintances."

Cordelia turned her head and raised her brow again, "Oh?"

"Oh, yes," he retorted. "She disappeared into a building in West Hollywood and you have three guesses who arrived there just ten minutes later and then stayed with her inside of the house for about an hour."

"I never liked guessing games, Angel. So just tell me."

"Riley Finn."

The spoon she'd just picked up to stir her sauce clattered to the floor, her gaze flew around to him, and from the corner of his eye Angel could see that Doyle had left his spot on the sofa as well and was now joining his fiancée and friend in the kitchen. "Say that again," he demanded, not sure he had heard correctly.

"Riley Finn," Angel repeated, uncrossing his arms and bending down to pick up the spoon. Placing it in the sink, he looked back at Cordelia. "And do you want to hear something even more interesting? When they came out, they were arguing, heavily. I've seen angry women, and I can tell you this woman hates Riley Finn, but the really disturbing part is, that I could swear she looked remarkably like someone who just had sex with him."

Go to Part 11