Many thanks to Meghan for convincing me to finish this story!

Chapter Four

Spike trailed after the figure of the rapidly disappearing slayer eagerly, a little spring in his step. He had been waiting for an opportunity like this for months, ever since she had told him it was over. His clever mind had literally teemed in pleasure when he saw her enter the mansion Angel used to live in. Any slight link to Peaches was sure to make her miserable, never a bad thing to a lovelorn, not to mention horny, vampire like Spike. He had to keep his involvement a secret, until the right moment-

"Spike!" Buffy yelled at him, as she tackled him to the ground. "What the hell are you doing?"

Annoyed at having been found out, Spike roughly shoved her off, and glared at her. "I was only out for a walk, is all," he said defensively, standing up and brushing the dirt off from his jacket. "Unlike Little Miss Secretive, I could add."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Buffy asked him, her voice a little too edgy. Spike knew then he had scored a direct hit.

"Well, here you are, hurrying away from this creepy old mansion that your ex used to live in, looking a little bit too guilty." He grinned at her, then, letting his voice fall to a whisper. "Of course, you won't want your little friends to know about it."

"Just stay out of it, Spike," Buffy ordered him grimly. She pushed him out of her way, but he jumped right back in front of her, blocking her path. "Get out of my way. Now." Her voice was low, menacing and Spike knew she meant it. Tonight though, Spike did not care.

"What you gonna do it about it, slayer?" he ribbed her, suggestively stroking his hand along her thigh.

Whatever Buffy was going to say next soon became lost in the whirling force that was Angel landing his fists into Spike's mouth. The force sent Spike flying across the path, and he lay on the ground, too stunned to move.

"What is he doing here?" Spike asked, his eyes widening further as he watched the snarling Angel stare deeply into the eyes of the slayer, and say her name in desperate hope. Then Angel fell to his knees, his arms wrapped around Buffy's tiny waist, crying.

Lost in the moment, Buffy barely registered as Spike stood up and left, leaving them to it. Spike knew, as surely as holy water burned vampires, that there was no getting between those two. And he also knew that he would do anything for Buffy. So if that meant helping Peaches, so be it.

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

Wesley pulled his jacket tighter around his body. Although by the somewhat chill autumnal nights of his English childhood, LA was an oven, Wesley still felt the cold. It was funny, a year or so ago, he never thought about his childhood or his former home, but now it entered his consciousness all too often. Then he felt lonelier than he ever had.

He had realised the price for his pride was too high when Angel, Gunn, Fred, Cordelia and Lorne had turned on him. He should have swallowed it then, been more humble. He had been so sure that taking Connor was the right thing, so sure he was protecting both the child and the father, one of Wesley's dearest friends. Maybe it was the self-righteous dogma of the Watcher's Council still ingrained in his being that infected his attitude, that made him unable to see at the time how much he needed their forgiveness. He only saw it all too clearly the minute he saw Lilah in his bed, and realised there really was no turning back. He was on his own now, without allies, somehow every single one of his father's withering criticisms pressing all the more heavily upon him.

Opening his apartment door, Wesley threw his keys onto the counter, then turned to face the intruder. "Angel, what a pleasant surprise," he stated flatly, shutting his front door.

Angel stood stock still, his eyes boring into Wesley's. "How about we cut with the pleasantries, and start hearing about what you know."

Without quite knowing why, Wesley began to chuckle. Something in Angel's menace seemed faintly ridiculous to him right now, especially when Wesley knew he had little left to lose. Angel's fist hit Wesley square in the nose, and he went down, his face a mess of blood. But even as he struggled back to his feet, Wesley was still struck by the absurdity of it all, of Angel's glowering face, and his own mortal weakness.

"I came for answers, Wesley. I won't tolerate any of your insolence," Angel rasped, his rage barely contained.

Wesley then glared at him, his arms folded. "I told you all I can. That's it."

Angel shook his head, his words laced with malice, "I don't believe you."

Wesley shrugged, tired from arguing. "Believe what you like."

Then Angel was right in his face, his hands threateningly gripping Wesley's throat. "I used to respect you," Angel spat. "You used to be your own man."

Wesley pushed Angel off him, his eyes empty. "Bye, Angel."

As Angel gave one last glare, and slammed the door behind him, Wesley reached into his pocket. Taking out a sheet of paper, his face became pained as he read his own scrawl detailing the ancient spell of frailty.

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

Somehow Buffy had managed to bring Angel back into the mansion. She had half-carried, half-dragged the sobbing Angel onto the couch, where she now sat with him, his head cradled on her lap. She gently stroked his face, telling him it was going to be okay, that she was here for him. And over and over he kept mumbling, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" and Buffy just told him it didn't matter, that nothing did, even though she had no idea what Angel was so sorry for.

He was sleeping now, finally, having exhausted himself utterly. Buffy tried to slowly slide herself out, knowing she needed to get back to Dawn soon. At sensing her movement, Angel stirred, and grasped his arms tightly around her. "Don't go," he pleaded softly.

Buffy gazed down at him, her heart saddened by the need she saw in him. "I'm not," she told him. "I'll be back. I just need to make sure Dawn is okay."

"Dawn...." he uttered, pained. Then he clung closer to Buffy, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Buffy grasped him firmly by the arms, her eyes fixed on him. "What is it, Angel?"

Unable to meet her gaze, he began brokenly, "I remember, Buffy. Everything I did, everyone I hurt. I remember Dawn's little face, how terrified she was. She's just a little girl, and I... I can't bear it. I can't do this again."

"Can't do what again, Angel? I don't understand," Buffy asked him, pressingly.

"I can't be *him* again." The words came out in a whisper, and Buffy shuddered in sudden realisation.

"You're not him. You're Angel. I know the difference," she stated vehemently, forcing Angel to look at her. "Everything that happened when you lost your soul was not your fault. That was him. We all know that, and it's in the past now. Gone."

Angel started to push her away, his words a desperate rush, "No, no, it is my fault. How can you forget, it's all I saw! The faces of every man, woman and child I'd killed, your face as Acathla swallowed me. I'll never forget!"

Buffy began to tremble as she gathered Angel to her, not knowing what to do. "I love you, Angel," she whispered. She kissed his forehead softly, then his nose and his cheek. Finally she lightly brushed her lips against his, and gasped as Angel responded with hunger. Angel's fingers threaded through her hair, as Buffy twined herself closer to him. It had been 2 years since she had kissed him like this, since he had come to Sunnydale after her mother's funeral. Why he was back now and what was wrong, Buffy didn't know, but she knew that she didn't want to lose this feeling. In his arms, she felt like he had never left.

He did leave though, she thought to herself suddenly. She broke the kiss then, and pulled herself away. Angel looked up at her, his eyes pained and surprised.

"I've got to go," Buffy mumbled, hurriedly straightening her clothes as she headed for the door.

"Buffy...?" Angel asked her in confusion.

"I'm sorry," she told him as she rushed out, her head swimming from the sudden return of feelings she had long worked to repress. Angel stared after her hopelessly, his face contorting to the comfort of the brood.

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

There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. At least nothing that narrowed it down. Cordy, Fred, Gunn and Lorne had been scouring every book, website and source they could think of for spells that weakened an enemy, and had come up with way too many options. Cordy rolled her eyes as her latest net search came up with over 700 links, and realised that most of them she had already visited or they were just useless. The one thing she had learned was that there were many spells of this nature, but none that seemed to match with what had happened to Angel.

"Why can't Wolfram and Hart try putting the mojo on Angel in a more specific way?" Cordy complained. "It'd make my life easier."

Fred lightly touched Cordy's hand. "We're doing our best."

Cordy looked at her friend, and smiled tightly. "But it's not enough, is it?" She felt angry that Angel had been targeted yet again. She knew her friend had been going through a hard time just lately and she worried that this might be just one thing too many.

Just then, the phone began to rang. Cordy looked at the others hopefully, then snatched up the phone.

"Angel Investigations," Cordy breezed.

"Hi Cordelia," a female voice replied.

"Buffy? What do you want?" Cordy demanded, hoping that things weren't about to get anymore complicated with the return of the slayer.

Buffy took a breath, "Well, umm, I was wondering-".

"Not meaning to hurry you, Buffy, but we're kind of in crisis here," Cordy chided her.

"What the hell have you done to Angel?" Buffy blurted out.

"I didn't do anything!" Cordy exclaimed indignantly. "He made a pass at me!"

Back in Sunnydale, Buffy nearly dropped the handset. Her Angel trying to get with Cordy? She couldn't believe it.

"Are you still there?" Cordy asked.

"Uh, yeah," Buffy replied, trying to get her head around this new information.

"Well, it was nice to chat, Buffy, but some of us have work to do," Cordy bluntly pointed out.

"Okay, bye Cordelia," Buffy mumbled, hanging up. She knew she should have told Cordy about Angel, but somehow she just couldn't. There was no way she wanted that girl hanging around Angel right now, not when things were already so confusing between herself and Angel.

As Cordy heard the phone go dead, she put down the receiver and turned back to the computer screen.

"What was that?" Gunn asked, bemused.

"Nothing important," Cordy answered, already dismissing Buffy's phone call. She knew the girl had always been jealous, but really - she hadn't been with Angel for 4 years!

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

When Buffy arrived at the mansion, she was surprised to see Angel staring blankly into the fire. He seemed so small and so lost, despite the great width of his shoulders.

"Hey," Buffy said simply.

Angel turned to her, his eyes downcast.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she began.

"If you want to go, Buffy, please just go now." He interrupted quietly.

"No, Angel," Buffy soothed, coming to stand beside him. "You don't understand. I'm not going anywhere." She slipped her hand into his. "I want to be with you right now, to take care of you."

Angel brought her hand to his lips, and kissed it softly. "I don't deserve you," he told her.

Buffy broke his self-deprecation with a fiery kiss. "You do," she breathed into his ear, as she pulled him closer, and lay her head on his shoulder. "It doesn't matter what we've both done, it doesn't matter anymore."

Feedback please?