Chapter Two

Suspicious Minds

Standing in front of the large oak doors he took a deep breath and knocked.

“Come in.”

He opened the door and stepped inside closing the door behind him.

“Angelus I’m so glad you could find the time in your busy schedule to see me.” The sarcastic comment came from the man sitting at the big wooden desk. He sat there staring intently at Angel, his fingers steepled together as his keen gaze swept over his nephew.

“Uncle.” Angel nodded to him respectively then sat down in front of the desk pouring a whiskey. “You know I aim to please.”

Quentin Travers studied his nephew and took in the sarcastic reply. He knew that Angel didn’t want to be here and he knew the reason why. He normally had no problems with his nephew’s sexual escapades giving him leeway to do as he pleased. If he were really a bastard he would have refused to let him wed that bitch Darla. But Angel was so pigheaded and he knew that if he said no to the wedding that Angel would have gone on with it anyway. Besides Quentin knew it was only a matter of time before he saw the error in his ways, which he did eventually.

“Yes well, perhaps not. Why did you send Spike to do the London job? I specifically told you that I wanted you on that mission.”

“And I specifically told you that I wasn’t going. Do we really have to go through this again?”

“Yes we do because what I want goes here Angelus, not your wants. You think because you are family that you can deny my requests.” He leaned forward his face displaying his unhappiness, “and that is not the case.”

Angel’s ire grew as he stared at his uncle. It was always the same with him, in his uncle’s eyes, Angel owed him. It was why he treated him the way that he did, as if he was a second class citizen. But Angel knew that what Spike said was true, Angel was his Uncle’s money maker, and without him his Uncle wouldn’t be where he was today. “Look what’s the problem? Spike got the job done and that’s all that matters.”

Quentin stood up and walked around the desk. “The problem is that I now have a very unhappy client.”

Angel just shrugged, “Why? He got what he wanted. The mark’s dead.”

“Angelus you know the rules of this game. When an agreement is struck it is abided to like the bible. You broke that agreement and now I have a very uneasy client who is questioning doing business with me. And I don’t like it when people question me.”

Angel stood up and faced his irate uncle with flippancy. “Well there’s nothing I can do about it now, the jobs completed.”

Quentin smiled at him and it made Angel a little uncomfortable. His uncle never smiled and when he did it usually meant something bad for him.

“Actually there is. He is arriving tomorrow night and staying at The Beverly Hills Hotel. He wants to meet you. You will go there, meet him, and give him the explanation he deserves.”

Angel looked at his uncle distrustfully, his inner voice telling him that something wasn’t right. His uncle never wanted him to meet the clients. From day one, Angel knew that he was the shadow of the operation that he had been apart of ever since he was born. He didn’t meet anyone. It just wasn’t done. He went in and did his job that was it. No strings or attachments to anyone. It made killing them a lot easier.

“Why?”

Quentin walked over to the window, his hands behind his back. “He has another job, one that requires your utmost attention. It could be extremely profitable for everyone involved. Sending Spike to London has made him question his decision to do business with us. He doesn’t trust people that change the rules in the last minute.”

He turned around and faced him, “Frankly, I don’t blame him, neither would I. He wants to meet you, to restore his confidence that all is well.”

Angel knew he wasn’t telling him everything, he never did. There should be no reason why the client would want to meet him. Usually the clients didn’t give a shit who did the job as long as it was done. Angel knew there had to be another reason, a more personal reason. And that made him nervous.

But he didn’t show his uncle that, he stood up confidently and quickly. “Fine I’ll do that. What’s his name?”

Taking a piece of paper out of his pocket, Quentin handed it to him. “Don’t be late.”

Angel smirked at him, “I never am.” Turning away he headed toward the door only to be stopped by his uncle’s crisp voice.

“Angelus?”

He stopped with his hand on the knob, “What?”

“How is your new…friend?”

Angel slowly turned around and eyed his uncle, what was he up too? “Why?”

“I was just curious as to what kind of woman can make my cold hearted nephew so…content.”

Angel’s face hardened like the deadly assassin he was. It was a face that many a mark had seen - the last face they ever saw. And he wished it could be that way for his uncle. “Uncle I tolerate you and your rudeness to me only because I have too. But she has nothing to do with you and us, ever! So don’t ask me questions about her, don’t think you’ll ever meet her, and if I ever find out that you have…I will kill you.”

Stepping back he stared at him a few seconds longer. His black eyes promised death and completed his cold and serious threat. Placing the piece of paper in his pocket he walked out, slamming the door as he did. He didn’t give a fuck if his uncle, who praised silence and discretion, didn’t like it, he could fuck off for all he cared.

The fact that his uncle’s slimy treacherous lips even mentioned his goddess did nothing but piss Angel off and sent shivers of tread down his spine. There was no way his uncle was going to get anything over on him. No fucking way. He knew he was up to something and Angel was going to find out. There was too much at stake. And he wasn’t going to lose anything.

“We’ll see about that my boy.”

Quentin stared at the closed door with an evil smile on his face. The boy hated to admit it but he was just like Quentin. Cold hearted, untrusting and suspicious with everyone and everything. It was what made him so great at what he did. It also made him the type of person that would never want to change his ways. But to Quentin’s surprise he did. Who would have thought that Angelus, The Scourge of Europe, the most deadly assassin and most proficient thief in the world would have grown soft, and all because of a mere slip of a girl.

Walking over to his desk, he pulled out the file marked “Elizabeth Ann Summers” and opened it. He stared at her picture, she was attractive he would give her that. And Quentin was sure that she had to be an expert in bed, what biker whore wouldn’t be. But still that was no excuse for his nephew to grow soft.

He grumbled angrily as he sat down in his chair. He still couldn’t believe when Angelus came to him six months ago wanting to get out of the business; a family business that had been in operation for centuries. No family member left the business it was unheard of, and coming from Angelus it had shocked Quentin.

He knew right then that there had to be something or rather someone influencing his nephew. And he immediately put a man on it. His mission was simple, find out everything you can on one Elizabeth Ann Summers. Quentin wanted no details spared. He wanted to know everything from the day she was born to when she got her periods. The way he saw it, she was his number one enemy and he always found out everything there was to know about his enemies.

Of course Angelus had no idea what Quentin had been up to, as it should be, that was better left for another time. And while it was in Quentin’s nature to want to know everything about someone he felt was a threat, he had to admit that it had been more than just protecting his investments. He had been curious, more then curious to see what kind of woman could change Angelus. Because he never would have imagined Angelus wanting to walk away from something that he loved doing. And Quentin knew that Angelus loved what he did.

He thrived on the thrill of the kill and the excitement of stealing something that everyone said could not be stolen. It was his birthright, a skill that he had been born with, handed down from generations of cut throat thieves and murderers. People that were to everyone else honest law abiding citizens, but in the cover of night, would steal from and kill their brother if they had to. Like Quentin, and his father before him, Angelus was kin to some of the most famous and infamous people in both American and European history. And he had always known from where and whom he came from. It was a fact that Angelus had always prided himself on. It made him cocky and confident. It was what made him the best.

His curiosity aside, Quentin’s main reason for keeping tabs on everything was the fact that he had too much invested in the boy. Ever since Angelus’ parents died, Quentin had been stuck with the whelp. Spending money on him, sending him to the finest schools in Europe, on his education in the business, clothes, whores, booze, drugs, you name it, Quentin had spent money on it. It made him sick to think of the millions of dollars he had wasted on an ungrateful whelp that didn’t even have the slightest bit of respect for him. He knew that Angelus hated him - he never kept it a secret. But Quentin didn’t care. Hatred was good. Hatred filled the soul with blackness. And that was exactly where Quentin wanted Angelus to be - lost in the pits of his own hell. A creature that did nothing but do what he was told when he was told to do it. He was, in Quentin’s eyes his property and there was no way in hell he was going to let him walk away. The boy owed him – big time, and he was going to pay him back – in full.

Looking back down at the blonde beauty, he smiled. He almost felt sorry for the boy; he had no idea who he was really fucking. No clue as to what was really going on behind those beautiful lying eyes.

Closing the file he stood up and grabbed his coat. He would, sooner than later, and then Angelus would be right back where he belonged. Under Quentin’s wing, doing what he did best - ruthlessly killing.

**********************

Angel walked inside his house slamming the door as he did, almost breaking the picture that rattled on the wall. He threw off his jacket and walked over to the bar. Angrily grabbing the bottle of Jack and a glass he climbed the stairs.

He was still steaming mad. His gut was telling him that something was about to happen that would change his life, something that wasn’t going to be pleasant. And he couldn’t help but wonder if Buffy had something to do with it. Why else would his Uncle mention her?

His Uncle thought he was so damn sneaky, but the truth was that Angel knew that he kept tabs on him, he’d always known. And he knew that his Uncle probably had a file on Buffy just like he did on every other person that Angel had ever had contact with. It was his way. He had to know everything about everyone.

It never bothered Angel before, because frankly, he never gave a shit about anyone else. But Buffy, Buffy meant everything to him. Buffy was something that he wanted to keep to himself. And he couldn’t help but think that his Uncle probably knew more about Buffy than Angel did, and that bothered the hell out of him.

Reaching the top of the stairs he walked over to the alcove and hit the hidden switch. With a quite swoosh, the doors opened to reveal the secret room. He walked inside and hit the button again closing the door in the process. He turned on the lights and sat down; putting the glass down on the desk he poured himself a shot and drank it quickly.

God damn it! What the hell was his uncle up too? That old bastard didn’t smile for anything or anyone. Well he wasn’t just going to sit here like a mouse waiting to be stomped on. He picked up the phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. On the second ring it was answered

“Yeah?”

“Oz, I need you and every one else in LA.”

“Problems?”

“I don’t know for sure but my gut tells me yes.”

Oz chuckled. “Well I for one will always believe in your gut instincts. I’ll round everyone up we’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Good. Try to get here as early as possible, I have to meet someone tomorrow night and I’m going to need some quick recon before I go.”

“Okay see you then.”

He hung up the phone and stared at the picture on the desk and the golden smile that stared back at him. He remembered that day on the beach. The picnic that they shared and the love making that followed, it was one of his favorite memories.

Guilt filled him. He had promised her no lies, that they would always be honest with each other. And he really wanted to do that. But he was afraid that it was too late and that his lie was too great.

After all, it wasn’t every day that a person found out that their lover was an assassin. And while most people would freak out if they learned that, Buffy wasn’t most people. He wasn’t too concerned that she would freak out from disgust over what he really did. She did after all have a colorful past of her own. It was the secrets that would anger her. Just as it was her secrets that angered him because there was no doubt in his mind that she had many.

Why would Uncle mention her? There had to be a reason. There had to be something in that file that uncle had that he thought was useful, something that Buffy didn’t tell him about. But what? What secret could she possibly be keeping from him that could be used as ammunition against him? He never detected any signs of betrayal when she told him of her past. But then again, he wasn’t looking for any. Now with everything going on with his uncle, and him having to meet the client, he wondered if he had been blindsided. Maybe his uncle was right, maybe he had grown soft. Maybe he was letting The Beast think for him.

He stared at her picture, yes he had been blindsided…he was in love! All he wanted was to have an open and honest relationship with the woman that he loved. Was it so wrong of him to not see the bad and only see the good? He knew deep in his heart that it wasn’t, yet he couldn’t help but feel that he had been taken for a fool in someway.

His finger rose and gently caressed her face, smiling softly at the irony. Weren’t they a pair, two lyers keeping secrets from each other. Secrets that he knew would reveal themselves eventually. For him, he didn’t care what her secret was because it wouldn’t change anything. But still he had to know because not knowing was driving him insane. For peace of mind and nothing else, he was determined to find out everything there was to know about Buffy, even if that meant breaking into his Uncle’s office and stealing that file. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to keep her by his side.

On the other hand his secret was an entirely different story. He could live with the guilt that filled him for keeping it from her, because deep inside he felt that he was doing the right thing.

He had promised her he would never hurt her and he meant to keep that promise. If that meant lying to her for the rest of their lives about what he really did. Then he would.

The clock chimed softly on the wall bringing him out of his thoughts. He took one last drink and left the room swearing softly, he was late again.

He locked the house and jumped into the Porsche, starting the engine; he pulled out of the driveway and headed for The Graveyard.

**********************

Buffy walked into the bar and looked around. Her nose crinkled at the putrid smell of booze and sex as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

She quickly scanned the room till she found the person she was looking for. Finding him sitting at his usual corner table, she walked over trying to avoid all the grubby hands that were trying to cop a free feel.

“Boo!” She jumped up behind him placing her hands on his shoulders.

Willy jumped out of his seat startled, turning around ready to berate whoever it was, but he relaxed when he saw who it was and he smiled. “Hey Buffy haven’t seen you in a long time what you been up too?”

She sat down next to him wiping the seat first. “Ah well you know just keeping a low profile.”

He chuckled. “Yeah right low profile, I got johns left and right whacking off in my bathroom with that SI issue.”

Buffy blanched and held back the nausea that bubbled up.. “Ah…thanks for the visual Willy.”

He laughed at her. “What can I do for you kid?”

Moving her chair closer, she lowered her voice. “I need some information.”

He eyed her curiously, “Yeah what kind of information?”

Looking down at the floor she stomped her foot on the cockroach that was casually walking by. “People information. I want you to trace a guy for me and find out what ever you can?”

Willy eyed the beautiful blond and wondered what she was getting her self into. He scowled at her, “Hey kid I thought you were out of that business, a fresh start remember - a new life. What the hell are you getting your self into now?”

“It’s not like that Willy. I am starting over it’s just…I need to find out something.” She leaned closer and blasted him with the sweetest smile. “Pretty pretty pleassseee”

Willy of course was drawn to the innocence of that smile, even though he knew that she was far from innocent. “Alright, what’s the name?”

She handed him a piece of paper and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you Willy, I owe you one.” She stood up ready to leave.

“Yes you do and I’ll remember it too.”

She laughed and ruffled his hair, “I know you will. I’ll stop by tomorrow night.”

He nodded at her and watched her leave.

**********************

Angel sat at the bar with Spike and he was not happy. He rushed here to be with Buffy, plans in his head of seducing her away from her work, maybe taking her there on her desk. But when he arrived Faith told him that Buffy wasn’t here. She had gone out and Faith didn’t say where.

Now he sat at the bar his agitation growing with every second that ticked by and no Buffy. He was late that was nothing knew. But she was always where she was supposed to be. With his suspicious mind in full swing from the conversation with his Uncle, and the fact that she wasn’t here now, he was completely on edge. His entire body was tight with anxiety and his mind was wondering into bad untrusting thoughts. It was two o’clock in the morning, where the hell did she go?

Buffy opened the back door to the club and climbed the stairs to the second floor. She opened the door and slipped inside. It was late and the bar was dark only the lamplights on the wall illuminated the room and they weren’t bright at all. She looked toward the bar and saw Angel and Spike sitting there nursing their whiskey.

She watched her lover closely, his hand ruthlessly clenched his glass, his shoulders were stiff with tension, and she gulped. He didn’t seem to be too happy and she knew why. He turned his head to the left and she caught a glimpse of his eyes, they were as black as the room. She gulped again, definitely not a happy camper.

But then she remembered why she hadn’t been here when he arrived and her own eyes blackened. Let him fume a little, it would do him good. After all she was usually the one waiting and wondering where the hell he was. At least now he finally knew what it felt like.

He leaned over and whispered something to Spike. She watched their quiet exchange with hooded eyes. What were those two up too? What were they really involved in. She started to wonder if maybe she never really knew Angel at all. Maybe he had an entire secret life that she knew nothing about. He was always away making movies so he said, but was he really?

Spike moved on his stool, the legs scraped against the floor drawing her out of her thoughts. Seeing them sit there together, heads close and quietly talking, it suddenly dawned on her that it was the same spot they always sat in. It was the left hand side of the bar. Their backs were to the wall. She looked around the room; they had every angle of the room in their vision. There was no part of the room that they couldn’t see or watch. Her head angled to the side, as she realized that no matter where they were or went, that was how they always sat. They never sat with their backs to an open room. Never.

It was a rather odd observation something that a regular girl would probably never take notice of. But she wasn’t a regular girl and she wondered how she never noticed it before. She snorted to herself, blinded by love and lust, that’s why.

She heard Angel chuckle softly, and the sound warmed her blood and cooled her wary mind. She did love him, desperately so. What if she was wrong? What if she was just being paranoid? Did she really want to risk losing the best thing she ever had all because of her trust issues? No she didn’t.

It was only fair to give him the benefit of the doubt. If she jumped to conclusions and confronted him before she knew anything for sure, and she turned out to be wrong, she would regret it. Plus he was so sweet he would probably be hurt if he found out what she was thinking so it was better to keep everything to herself until she talked to Willy.

Now that her head was a little bit clearer, she started to get nervous. She had to come up with a pretty good lie, something that he would believe without a seconds thought. She had to be cool. Taking a deep breath to calm her senses she smelled…whores. Shit, she had to take a shower.

Looking past Angel she stared hard at Faith willing her to notice her. When they made eye contact she nodded toward the bathroom.

“Hey Amy?” Faith called out to the other bartender “Yeah?”

“I’ll be right back mind the bar.”

“Okay.”

She jumped over the bar and discreetly walked away. But she failed to notice that Spike and Angel watched her with wary eyes.

Faith opened the door to the bathroom and took one last look over her shoulder when her arm was grabbed and she was pulled into the bathroom. “Shit B where the hell have you been?”

Buffy locked the door. “I went to see Willy.”

Faith looked at her, “Willy the perv? Why?”

“Because Faith Angel’s been lying to me and I’m going to find out why.”

Faith eyed her hesitantly she felt bad because she knew why and what Angel was lying to her about, and it made her uncomfortable. She didn’t like keeping secrets from her best friend and she was afraid of what Buffy would do when she found out. Mentally she cursed both Angel and Spike for putting her in this situation. But there was no going back. She promised Spike that she wouldn’t say anything…she’ll just have to kick his ass later.

“What are you talking about?”

“I overhead him and Spike talking earlier and something’s going on that he doesn’t want to tell me about. So I’m going to find out on my own.” She whispered.

Faith didn’t like where this was headed. “B I don’t think you should be doing this. Why don’t you just ask him?”

Buffy gave her a look like she had lost her mind. “Yeah right like he would tell me anything. He’d clam up so fast that I wouldn’t know what hit me. Besides I need to be sure Faith. I don’t want him to know what I’m thinking. I don’t want to hurt his feelings if I’m wrong, he’s very soft hearted you know.”

Faith snorted to herself, yeah right. “Well thank god there’s some sense in that head of yours. Please Buffy stop this sneaking around bullshit and just ask him. He might surprise you.” If Faith had anything to with it that’s exactly what was going to happen.

“Look he’s out there now and he’s not happy that you were out this late by yourself.” She caught a whiff of Buffy and her nose crinkled with disgust. “Not to mention the fact that you reek like a whore house! Jesus Buffy didn’t you think to take a shower first? He’s going to smell it.”

“It’s not that ba….”

BANG BANG BANG

“BUFFY ARE YOU IN THERE?”

Both girls jumped and latched on to the other’s hand. “Shit!”

“Calm down,” Faith said, “listen you sneak upstairs and take a quick shower, I’ll stall him.”

Buffy smiled at her sister, “you’re the best Faithy. Have I told you today that I love you?”

Faith looked at her sternly, but inside she was smiling. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

BANG BANG

“BUFFY?”

“Quick go hide in the stall and I’ll get rid of him.”

She shooed Buffy into the back stall and waited till she had her feet up on the toilet. Straightening her top she casually strolled over to the door. Unlocking it she threw it open and stepped outside but was blocked by a wall of muscle.

“Geez Angel can’t a lady have some privacy?”

Angel was peering over her shoulder looking inside. “Where’s Buffy? Is she in there?”

Faith put her hand on his chest and pushed him back. “No Buffy’s not in there.”

His eyes crinkled in the corners as he looked at her. She was lying. “Then why was the door locked?”

“Why? Because I wanted some privacy I didn’t know that was illegal…in my own place.”

She fixed him with a stern look. He had enough sense in his head to look embarrassed but inside he was seething. A man could only take so much sneakiness in one night. “Sorry I’m just worried. It’s late and she’s not here and she’s out by her self. She is by herself isn’t’ she?” he said in a small voice, as his paranoia increased.

Faith took him by the arm leading him back to the bar. “Of’ course she’s by herself. She’s got you doesn’t she?” She flexed his arm. “All Mr. Big, Strong and Muscley, why would she need anyone else.”

Faith smoothly feed his male pride and it worked, a little. He had a smug smile on his face as he let her lead him back to the bar but he still didn’t believe her.

Thinking she had him right where she wanted him, Faith rolled her eyes; men could really be dense sometimes. Little did she know that Angel was about as dense as a ten foot thick wall of steel.

**********************

Twenty minutes later Angel and Spike were still sitting at the bar. Spike was watching Angel who was checking his watch every ten seconds.

“You know she’s not going to get back any faster with you all watchy like.”

Angel glared at him.

“What’s a matter with you Mate? You’ve been tied in knots since you got here?” Spike asked.

Angel leaned closer to him, “Uncle.”

“What the ole’ bastard have to say?”

“He mentioned Buffy.”

Spike’s eye went up, “he did, did he? How so?”

“Well he didn’t mention her name or say anything to the point…”

Spike harrumphed, “like he ever does.”

“But still it made me…” he didn’t want to say suspicious because it made him sound paranoid, so he struggled trying to find another word.

“…suspicious.” Spike said and Angel nodded.

“I didn’t want to say it, but yeah.”

“Relax mate, it doesn’t make you paranoid. You know as well as I do, that Uncle doesn’t say anything without some little trick up his sleeve. If you ask me, your worries are justified.”

Angel nodded his agreement, his eyes checking his watch and then the door once again. “Where the fuck is she?” He said, loud enough for Faith to hear.

“Hey big guy chill out she’s alright.”

Angel eyed Faith’s calmness, as she toweled off a glass and placed it back on the shelf. He liked Faith a lot. She was a good loyal friend to Buffy and she was the perfect match for Spike. He admired her strong character; she was both mentally and physically tough. She had probably been in just as many bar brawls as Angel had. He wondered how long it would take him to break her. His hands unconsciously clenched at his side, and he automatically rolled his head loosening his neck muscles.

Spike’s eyes darkened as he took note of the tell tale movements he had seen a million times. And he cleared his throat, unhappy with what he was seeing.

Angel glanced at his brother, took note of the look of death in his eyes, and looked back at him with his, ‘I won’t hurt her much’ stare. But Spike shook his head no.

Angel sighed and relaxed his muscles, looking back at the brunette who was unaware of how close she came to being tied up and tortured.

“Where did she go Faith?” It was a pointless question he knew that she wouldn’t tell him.

Faith just eyeballed him right back. He was trying to frighten her but she wasn’t afraid of him. Instead she got pissed off and instead of answering him she switched topics.

She leaned closer, her hands braced against the bar as they stared at each other practically nose to nose.

“Hey, don’t give me that look. You’re the one that’s got me in the middle of something that I know I don’t want to be in!” She vehemently whispered. “If you weren’t such a chicken shit you’d tell her what’s going on!”

Angel’s eyes darkened, no one called him a chicken. “What did you just call me?” He quietly said.

Faith smirked at him, “Chicken. Bock – bock” She mimicked and Angel suddenly stood up, his stool crashing to the floor as his hands landed sharply on the bar, making it rattle.

Spike envisioning his beloved Faith flattened against the wall and blood pooling around her, immediately stood up and leaned into them. Placing a hand on both of their chests he pushed them back from each other. Angry blue eyes glared at both of them and then landed on Faith.

“Faith, shut up. You’re only making things worse.” He sneered at her.

Her eyes flashed dangerously, not liking his use of words. Yes she was definitely going to kick his ass later.

Spike turned to Angel, “Dearthair bog. Ta si ceart.” ⁽¹⁾

Faith snorted hearing her lover speak a foreign language that she knew she had never heard either of them speak before. “More secrets? Gee what a surprise.” She said her eyes as black as Angels, as she looked at Spike.

Spike’s gaze softened as he looked back at her. “Please baby, not now.”

Faith’s anger dissipated under his love filled gaze. She calmed herself down and took a step closer. “You know why don’t you try being honest with her Angel, she might appreciate that. I don’t like lying to her and she’s going to be just as mad at me when she finds out…probably more.” She mumbled, as she threw the towel she had been holding on to the bar. Disgusted with both men she went to the office to have a drink.

“Mr. Angel sir?”

Angel watched Faith walk away still seething mad.

“Excuse me, Mr. Angel sir?”

Spike thumped him on the chest, and then nodded his head toward the bouncer.

Angel turned, “what?” He shouted and the bouncer visibly took a step back. Angel sighed and relaxed, “I’m sorry Tommy, what is it?” He asked softer.

Spike slapped him on the shoulder and sat down, taking a drink of his beer and knowing that he had just averted World War III.

“You wanted to know when Ms. Buffy was back. Michael said he saw her come in about twenty minutes ago sir. She’s upstairs in the loft.”

Angel smiled at him, he knew that paying the bouncers in the club an extra grand a week would come in handy one day. “Thank you Tommy. You’re a good man.”

The bouncer walked away. Angel grabbed his drink and slugged it down then slammed the glass on the bar. Without another word he turned and walked away.

Spike watched him go, slugging the rest of his beer down, he stared at the door to the office. He should go in and apologize, sooth her anger. His hand unconsciously massaged his stomach, but…one more drink wouldn’t hurt.

“Amy, one more.”

**********************

Buffy got out of the shower and dried off; she threw her robe on and walked out into the living room. The room was dark and she was thinking of what Willy would find out. She was lost in her thoughts and so of course she bumped into the table.

“OW!” She stumbled and almost fell over in her effort to grab her big toe, when there was a strong pair of arms around her waist steadying her.

“Angel?”

His eyebrows went up. “Were you expecting someone else lover?” He was holding in his anger and suspicions. He didn’t want to yell at her but he really wanted to know where she was.

She smiled at his attempt to hide his jealousy and anger, and she leaned back against him touching his arms. She had time to relax and think in the shower, and she now felt confident that she was just being her crazy irrational self.

“Ha ha. Have you been here the whole time?”

She leaned her head back and into his neck breathing in his rich deep scent. “You could have joined me in the shower?” She kissed him letting her tongue lightly lick the sensitive area at the base of his neck.

He shivered and closed his eyes. Damn it she knew how to get to him but he wasn’t going to let it go that easy. “Well I was waiting downstairs for you.”

When she moved her hand up to the nape of his neck and started to play with the fine hairs, he shivered again and couldn’t resist her play. The tightened anger in his muscles quickly changed to desire, and his voice was husky and deep. “I was planning on seducing you away from your work, throwing you on top of your desk and taking you violently.”

“Mmmm that sounds very cavemanny.” She tingled with anticipation. She loved it when he took her roughly.

“mmm doesn’t it. But to my surprise you weren’t here?” He waited to sense some kind of reaction from her but damn it she was good and he got nothing. “Where were you?”

She kept playing with his hair and licking his neck. “Xander called and wanted to talk to me so I met him at the diner.” She turned around in his arms and looked up at his handsome face.

“At two o’clock in the morning?” He didn’t believe her. He knew Xander and there was no way in hell that he would ask her to meet him at that time of night, especially by herself.

But Buffy just shook her head happily. “Yup he had a fight with Anya and was upset.”

He looked deep into her eyes. In his gut he knew she was lying but to his utter amazement he couldn’t tell. She looked as innocent and sweet, and un-beguiling as an angel. What the hell was wrong with him? He could always tell when someone was lying to him. Either he was losing his touch or she was better than him. “Oh, what about?”

“Babies.” She leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips.

“Babies?”

“mmmm, as in Anya wants them and Xander doesn’t.” She nipped at the corner of his lips and spread her hands across his back, rubbing them up and down.

Well that could be true, he thought, he remembered overhearing an argument they had at a party at Joyce’s art gallery last week.

“Are you going to ask me questions all night or are you going to make love to me?” She stood on her tippy-toes and drew his mouth down to hers, kissing him deeply.

Of course he wanted to question her more but as she took his mouth hungrily and pressed her tight little body against his, he could only do what any lust hungry man could do. He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

Questions could come tomorrow.

__________

⁽¹⁾ : rough Gaelic to English Translation: “Brother relax. She’s right.”

Next