Here's part two. To translate the Gaelic, go to the link in the Author's note.
DISCLAIMER: (n) a denial of legal responsibility; a written statement embodying this. I do not own these characters. The evil little acid-tripping troll – er, Joss Whedon – does.
SUMMARY: (n) a brief account of the main points of something. This is the continuation of my "Phone Calls" series.
SPOILER(S): (n) a projecting structure on an aircraft wing that increases drag - what the...!? I'd better use `to spoil:' (v) to damage as to make useless, etc; to impair the enjoyment of. Or spoilsport: (n) a person who spoils the fun of others. General spoilers of Season 4 "Buffy" and Season 1 "Angel" episodes.
RATING: (n) an assessment, an evaluation, an appraisal. Rated `PG: Parental Guidance suggested'.
FEEDBACK: (n) information about a product, service, etc returned to the supplier for purposes of evaluation. Send all flames, compliments, questions, etc to GAKDragon@msn.com. Be sure to put "Re: Phone Calls" as your subject title or my dad will delete it (I haven't been to any of those sites in a year and still I get spam).
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This takes place after "Hello?" my first in the series. Angel and Buffy are now phone buddies. Oh, and wanna learn Gaelic really quick? Go to http://www.ceantar.org/Dicts/search.html
Forget the Gramadach Lexicon – it may be the Irish one, but the Mac Bain's has better definitions. Look after the word underlined in blue, that's the SCOTTISH GAELIC word. After that word, it gives the English definition then the word "Irish" then a word in italics. This word in italics is usually the one you want. Just make sure the English meaning is the one you want.

Buffy absently waved good-bye to Willow as she went to the Bronze to watch Oz and the Dingoes play. The Slayer studied her homework for a few more minutes, just in case Willow came back, having forgotten something.

Five minutes passed, with no sign of the redhead. Buffy leaned over the bed and snatched the phone. She flipped through her Gaelic textbook for the bookmark with Angel's phone number on it. Dialing his number, she breathlessly waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" His voice sounded as it always did in the early afternoon when he just woke up: slurred and thick with his Galway brogue.

"Dlígheadh mé tú aon dollar."

"Huh? Who is this? Why do you owe me a dollar? Doyle, is that you?"

"That's not what you called me last week."

"Who is this?"

"How quickly they forget. Last week I was your Beloved, now you don't even recognize my voice? I'll have to start calling you more often than once a week."

"Buffy?"

"Mm-hmm."

"What – when did you learn Gaelic?"

"This week," she preened. "I flipped through my textbook."

"You're taking Gaelic at the college?"

"Yeah. I figured if you were cursing at me, I could at least learn your language. I should have known it was just your elegant, classy way of calling me baby, honey, and sweetheart."

Angel was stunned. "H-how much did you learn?"

"Just some basic stuff. The French I had in high school helps a little."

"Wow … You said you owe me a dollar?"

"You won the bet, Kathy was a demon."

"Hah!" He laughed out loud, fully comprehending the reason for her strange call. "So what dimension was she from?"

"I didn't ask. She ran away from home to go to college."

"Hmm."

"She tried to steal my soul!" Buffy whined. "Her parents came looking for her, and they can only tell their own kind by the lack of a soul."

"Things looking up for you?"

"Yeah. I wailed some vampire butt, got my stuff back from Sunday. On my own, too, though everybody showed up after I was done, wanting to help."

"Good for you," he said, pride in his voice.

"How's Cordy?"

He chuckled. "Working for me, oddly enough."

"Good! She'll either keep you sane or drive you up a wall."

"Doyle's got a crush on her."

"I do not!" Buffy heard a man on Angel's end of the line.

"Is that your Jiminy Cricket?" she asked.

"Yeah. She's driving him up a wall, `cuz I'm used to her – you know – knew her in Sunnydale. So'd you get a new roommate?"

"Yep. She's a certain red-headed band groupie we all know and love."

"That's great." A beat. "Willow's not there now, is she?"

"No! I'm studying, she's out with Oz."

"How come you're not out with … you know, whoever?"

"We went out last night. The Bitch Monster of Death – that's my psych professor – assigned us a paper due at the end of the week. Tonight's the only chance between now and then that I have to do it."

"You don't call her that to her face, do you?"

"No! She said that's the name her TA's use behind her back."

He chuckled.

"How are things in LA?"

He leaned back in his kitchen chair. "The three of us sort of formed a private detective agency."

"That's great! Any cases?"

"Um, I stopped a burrower demon. This cop lady thought I was a serial killer, but it was really this demon."

Buffy snorted. "Cops are dumb."

"Not necessarily," he hedged. "Did you trash my mansion yet?"

"Oh, no! I haven't been down there."

"So, uh, give me something Gaelic."

"Buffy is ainm dom. Táim ocht deag bhliana d'aois."

"Ugh," Angel said in mock disgust. "Your accent's horrible."

"All right, well let's hear you say it!"

Even after so many years, his tongue slipped into the brogue easily. "Liam is ainm dom. Táim fiche-sé bliadhain d'aois."

"Oh sure, for you it's like English." What he said registered in her head, and she jotted it down.

"Buffy I'm – I'm really honored that you're learning Gaelic."

There was silence for several minutes. Buffy flipped through her textbook, looking for the fiche-sé he'd mentioned. Something-six, something-six. Wait, Liam?

"Your name's Liam?"

He blinked. Was that what he'd said? "Uh, yeah. It was. Uh, long time ago."

"Do you even know what you said?" There was laughter in her voice as she translated the rest of his sentence.

"What did I say?"

"You said, `My name is Liam, I am twenty-six years of age.'"

He thought. "Yeah, I guess so. Huh. That's when I learned it, when I was young. That's also when I … you know – twenty-six."

"Ohh. How's Cordelia?"

"You asked me that already."

"Oh, yeah. I did. So tell me again?"

"I think she and Doyle went on a date, I don't hear him being a pest anymore. She's really trying to help out."

"That's good. I have to get back to my homework."

"I miss you."

"I love you."

"Báidhe tú, bean." They disconnected the phone.

*****

Buffy resisted the urge to cry as she called Angel. Parker's attitude had hurt so bad. She'd thought he really cared about her. Her fingers shook as she picked up the phone and dialed the number.

Was her love life doomed for failure forever? Had Angel ruined her for every other guy she'd ever meet? Probably, she thought as the phone rang.

"Hel-lo." He sounded upbeat, almost as if he knew who was calling. Buffy sniffed, blinking back tears. Why was she calling again?

"Buffy? Is that you?" He got up and closed the office door. "Sweet, what's wrong?"

"Angel, was I … good?"

"Good? When?"

"On my birthday. You know, was it good?"

He sighed and closed his eyes. They'd never really had this conversation. Remembering how perfect it had been hurt him, and remembering what followed hurt them both. And now she must have slept with someone else, someone who made her feel like a whore. "It was perfect, Buffy. Heaven on earth."

She was silent, trying to get her tears under control.

"Who was this jerk, who made you feel bad?"

She burst into tears. How had he found out? Who had told him? Had Spike gotten to LA already? "Parker Abrams. He's a guy at college. I thought he really liked me. He just wanted the sex."

"I'm so sorry." He wanted to track this kid down and pummel him to death.

Buffy was still crying, and Angel knew he'd have to open up. He'd have to give her those sweet words, even though they'd rip his heart out of his chest by admitting it. "Buffy, it – with me, it wasn't exactly the sex. I mean, a big part of it was, but the best was after, lying there next to you.

"You trusted me so much. You knew what I was and it didn't matter. I'd never really believed it until that night. And then, God, Buffy, you were so good. I've been around the block for 240 years. I've had lots of women. But nobody's ever … made love to me the way you did." He tried to speak around his own tears. "I've never felt that way. Never been … worshipped like that.

"You were so instinctive. So innocent, but you knew right where and how to – to please me. I know, it was just one time, but it exhausted me. I'd given everything, and taken everything that you gave. You made me feel like the most precious, most wondrous thing put on this earth. And I was all yours, and you could never prove how grateful you were. You made me feel … alive, for the first time in years."

She cried openly, then her eye caught Willow's Dingoes poster and she remembered her other reason for calling. "Oz is on his way there."

"Bringing my dollar by special delivery?"

She laughed. "Yes, but Spike found – he found the Gem of Amarra. Oz is bringing it to you."

He whistled. "So it really does exist."

"Yeah."

"Buffy, why me?"

"Because I can't bear the thought of you in pain. Or dying without me there. I mean, I don't care if we can't ever be together, but if I lose you, I'll never be the same. As long as you're here, living, I know some part of me will always go on. The best part. If you die, you'll take part of me that I'll never get back."

Touched beyond measure, he could only respond with wit. "You listened to too many of Kathy's Celine Dion records."

She giggled.

"I'm honored, Buffy. I'll keep an eye out for him."

"How's work?"

"My client, Rachel, wants me to protect her from her boyfriend."

"Is he a demon?"

"Nah, just your average creep. It'll be no sweat."

"That's good. Call me when it's all over?"

"Yeah. You should know, I probably won't be able to kill Spike. I mean, I know he's evil, but he's never really done anything that bad. Yet."

"I know. I just want you to kick his ass and make him run."

"It will be my pleasure."

"Tá grá agam leat."

"I love you, too." He hung up the phone and turned off the light, brooding in the dark.

***

Angel, wearing the Ring of Amarra, watched the sun set. Every fiber of his being wanted to destroy it, so no vampire could ever use it again. Especially not Angelus.

But how could he ignore Buffy's sacrifice? He couldn't just set aside her fears – they were close to his own heart. He gazed down at his other hand, at his claddagh. He gently slipped it off, and laid it on the edge of the rooftop in front of him.

The sun safely below the horizon, he slipped the Ring of Amarra off his other hand and slid it onto his right hand's ring finger. He turned the gem around, so it faced his palm. He slid his now oversized claddagh onto that finger, using it to cover the Ring of Amarra. It was a tight fit, but it would have to do.

Walking back inside, he stalled Doyle's joyous outburst. "I'm not going out there again, Doyle. Not unless it's an emergency."

"But Angel, man-"

"Doyle, the fewer people that know about it, the better. I'm not going to wear it all the time, either. Just when I feel it's necessary."

"But Angel-" Cordy began.

"I don't deserve this. Not yet. Maybe someday I will. Maybe someday I can help somebody with this who can't be helped by the cops or the doctors or the nine to five world. That's not the world I live in, and it's never going to be. I know what monsters are out there, and I know how to fight them. People in the daytime have no idea what they're up against. And maybe, just maybe, if I lived among them, I might start to forget, too. I can't let that happen. I'm not human. I don't belong in a human world."

Cordy pushed a few things around on her desk. "By the way, Rachel called. She said she'd be fine on her own, thanks anyway."

Angel shook his head. "Stiffed by my first real client. It's been a long day. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

*****

"Happy Halloween," the vampire said.

"Happy Halloween," replied the Vampire Slayer.

"Everything quiet on the homefront?"

"No, this is Sunnydale. I stomped the manifestation of Gachnar, the fear demon."

"You stomped him?"

"He was, like, three inches tall."

He chuckled. "I got to bury this psycho doctor in twelve steel boxes in twenty cubic feet of concrete in LA's newest subway stop."

"Ew."

"I got my first paying client."

"Spare me the details on this one, please?"

"Provided you tell me how your day went."

"Well, there was this party. Somebody drew the mark of Gachnar on the floor. Oz accidentally cut his hand over it, and then all our fears began manifesting."

"Just like Billy Palmer."

"Yeah. Wait, how'd you know about him?"

"Giles. What were your fears?"

"That all my friends would leave me."

"They won't. They love you too much. They might actually wind up keeping you in Sunnydale. You could have gone anywhere to college."

"Geall mé tú."

"How is your Gaelic going?" He missed her, too, but he couldn't say it. It would hurt them both too much.

"Good. I've gotten all A's so far."

"That's great. How are your other classes?"

"Not so good. But I'm trying."

"That's all you can do. I wish you the best of luck, Buffy, I really do."

"Thank you."

"What was your costume?"

"Red Riding Hood. With a basket of weapons."

"Good thinking."

"Yeah, we all had the same ideas. Willow was Joan of Arc, Xander was James Bond – or a headwaiter. Oz was God. Anya was a bunny."

He couldn't help teasing. "No ditzy noblewomen this year?"

"Nope. Just smart little old me."

"You are very smart, caraid."

"I should go, Willow will be back soon."

"You haven't told her yet?"

"About what?"

"Us, this."

"No!" A pause. "Have you?"

"No. It's too … nice."

She smiled. "I'll talk to you later."

"Bye."

*****

Buffy snaked a hand out from under the covers to answer the phone.

The effalumps and woozles tap dancing in her head gained in exuberance as she brought the phone to her ear. "Whoever this is, it better be good."

"Hello to you, too."

"Oh, hi Angel. Unh," she winced.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Buffy learned beer bad."

He began chuckling, then broke into full-out laughter. "You're hung over."

"Oh sure, laugh. See if I ever call you again."

"How did you get drunk? You're underage."

"This bar where Xander works."

"Poor thing. Know what helps?"

"Mm, what?"

"A small shot of alcohol. Drink some, it eases the grogginess."

"You're just a fountain of information today."

"Yeah, sorry." He really wasn't, and sounded it.

"Liar. How's Cordy?"

"Much better. She's got a great apartment, a tolerable roommate, and a new understanding about herself."

"Who's her roommate?"

"A guy who's been dead for fifty years."

"A vampire?!" Buffy shot up in bed. "Ow. Cordy's roomies with a vamp?"

"No, she only stayed at my place one night," he said sarcastically.

"You're different."

"If the shoe fits," he stated.

"But the shoe doesn't fit you. You're not like others, can't you see that? You're special."

He swallowed. "Cordelia's roommate is a phantom, a ghost."

"Ohh. Is he nice?"

"Seems to be. His mother killed him, then had a heart attack. Mrs. Pearson haunted the place, until Cordy got her bitch back. Cordy freed Dennis and he blasted his mother."

"Why'd she kill him?"

"She didn't like his fiancé."

"What a witch."

"So how'd you like your beer?"

"It turned me into Cave Slayer Buffy."

He clucked. "Too bad."

"I punched Parker."

"Man, I've been itching to do that."

She giggled. The door handle turned. "Damn! Willow's back. I'll call you later." She hung up.

*****

Buffy snatched the phone up before it began to bother Willow.

"Hello?" she said quietly.

"Hi, how are you?" Angel said sweetly.

"Oh, hey. Not too bad." She was still whispering.

"Why are we whispering?" He dropped his own voice.

"Willow – she's not feeling well."

"Oh no, what happened? Is she sick?"

"Um, sort of."

Willow stirred. "Who is it, Buffy?"

Buffy covered the mouthpiece of the phone, knowing her caller would hear anyway. "It's um … it's … I'll tell you later. Will it hurt if I explain the sitch?"

"Of course, but I don't mind."

"I'm really sorry, Will."

"Mm-hmm."

Buffy turned away with the phone. She spoke as softly as she could, knowing the vampire's heightened senses would allow him to hear her.

"There was this other werewolf, a woman. Oz – Oz drúis leí. Sol iad aistrigh, anuair iad bhá fear.

"Willow eirmis iad. Ansin, Veruca – the werewolf, uh…" She rapidly searched through her textbook.

Angel guessed. "She went after Willow?"

"Yeah. Oz killed her, but then he went after Willow in werewolf form."

He nearly shot out of his chair. Had she been bit? "Oh God, is she okay?"

"Well, sort of."

He really wished he could delete the words `sort of' from her vocabulary.

"Oz took inspiration from the King of bad goodbyes and left."

Calmer, he settled back in his chair. "Hey, I resemble that remark."

Buffy smiled. "He said he couldn't be around her until he could control himself." She blinked. "Och, a'cia cuimhne an mé?"

"I know where he's coming from. Just – you should be there for her. Better yet, give her Cordy's number." He rattled it off.

"Thanks, I'll give it to her. How was your day?"

"I got some free sensitivity classes."

She chuckled. "You're sensitive enough as it is."

"Cordy and Doyle would disagree."

"What, don't you appreciate them enough?"

"I don't show it often enough. I do appreciate them; I wouldn't want to lose either of them."

"I know. I would hate to lose one of my friends."

"I'd hate to lose you."

"Same here."

"I love you."

"Tá grá agam leat." Buffy set down the phone and turned to see Willow staring suspiciously at her.

"Buffy, who was that? And why were you speaking Gaelic to them?"

"Willow, you have to promise me you won't tell anyone. Not Giles, not Xander, not my mom. Please?"

"I promise." Willow was still skeptical.

"That was Angel. We call each other once a week."

"Buffy!" Willow scolded.

Her tone of voice made something inside Buffy snap. "What? It's really hard for me to take the hole in my chest that he made when he took my heart with him and fill it like that." She snapped her fingers. "You go, buy a tube of superglue, and put the pieces of your broken heart together in a day. Forget Oz, get over him by this time tomorrow. Isn't that what you wanted me to do with Angel?"

She took a deep breath. It wasn't Willow's fault, it wasn't anybody's fault. But Willow had been asking too much of her, too soon, and it was going to stop, *now.*

"Talking to Angel makes it hurt just a little less. We're trying to be friends. I tell him about you and Giles, and he tells me about Cordy and this new Irish friend of his. Speaking of Cordy, he gave me her number." She tossed the piece of paper on the bed. "He suggested you call her.

"I only have a small inkling of how you're hurting. Cordy knows the awful, heart-wrenching details. I think you should do everything you can to make it hurt less. This might be one of them."

Buffy grabbed her jacket and a crossbow. "I'm going patrolling." She stormed out.

*****

"See you in Psych," she called after Riley as he walked down the hall. She dropped her bag in her dorm and flopped on the bed. As she grabbed the phone, she thought about their little walk together.

He was nice and all but … he just didn't give her that spark. They hadn't kissed yet, so she couldn't be sure, but when he spoke, his voice was nice, and smooth, and boring. Not at all like the man she was calling.

"Maidin maith, caraid." Even in another language, Angel's voice could still make her swoon.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"I got this new service on the phone. It says, `Sunnydale,' and has your dorm number."

"Look at you, hip with the technology. Mom doesn't even have caller ID yet."

"Good thing."

She chuckled.

"So what did you tell Willow?"

"The truth."

"How'd she take it?"

"I don't think she realized how much I've been hiding my pain since you left. It struck her pretty hard."

"Has she called Cordy yet?"

"I don't think so. I think she wants to wallow in her pain for a bit."

"Hang on a minute, Buff. Okay?"

"Sure."

He covered the mouthpiece and spoke to someone. When he spoke next into the phone, his voice was agitated.

"Buffy, I've got to go, something's come up."

"Okay. Uh, two things. Willow says Spike tried to attack her, but he can't hurt humans or he gets a blinding headache, and two I-kind- of-startedseeingaguy," she finished quickly.

"Okay, first what happened to Spike, and second, what did you say?"

"Somebody did something to Spike and he can't hurt humans. Second, I sort of … went on a date."

There was silence, then a male voice said, "Angel, come on!"

"Yeah, I'm coming. Look, as long as he's nice to you, meets with your mother's, Giles's and Willow's approval and doesn't hurt you, go for it. I gotta go, I have a thing. No matter what happens, I'll always love you."

"Me, too." But Angel had already hung up.

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