Chapter Four

"Sorry girl, but I'm gonna' ask you to leave now." Angel pushed the half naked girl out of his car.

"I refuse to leave!" she protested.

"Look, sweetheart, I don't know what you were expecting of me, but we just had car sex. Relationships don't start with car sex. I thought you knew what you were getting yourself into the moment you got into my car!" he said.

"Jerk!" she retorted and walked away, adjusting her bra.

"Nice one Angelo!"

Angel turned around when he heard a familiar voice. His eyes widened.

"Virgilio Fasola!" he exclaimed.

"Surprised to see me?" Angel frowned at the question.

"Not really. I had supposed one of you would show sooner or later, you're all fucked enough to do such a thing." he smirked.

"How about we make a deal. You give up your business to me, and in turn, I'll make sure your family lives. So what do you think, Vitale?" the man asked. Angel chuckled.

"This just keeps on getting better! Frankly, you're a nice guy and all, but you have been conspiring with my enemy so let me see..." he paused and scratched his chin.

"No," he said finally.

"How could you possibly think that I would give everything to you?"

"Maybe this might work." Fasola pulled out a gun and pulled the trigger, as Angel jumped to the side.

Angel's stomach bled, yet he still stood as the other man fled.

"Fasola?" he called furiously, pulling out a gun too. He pointed it straight at his enemy's forehead and fired.

And Virgilio Fasola lay dead in a dark alley.

"Fucking idiot!" Angel muttered, in obvious pain.

By this time, Buffy had already reached her house. She had hitched a ride with Spike and Wes at the bar. As she stepped out of the shower she heard someone knock hard on the front door. Her sister ran for it.

"Angelo!" Dawn gasped. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Asshole mother fucker! The little shit!" he cursed non-stop.

Buffy ran down the stairs, a white towel around her body.

"Angel! God! Are you alright?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

"Does it fucking look like I'm alright?" he spat out, dropping to his knees.

"Shit! You're bleeding so much!"

"No shit! At least this isn't nearly as bad as last time though!"

"We need to take you to a hospital!" she panicked.

"No! They'll know something's goin' on! When they call the blue suits we're as good as dead!" he protested.

"Angel! You've fucking been shot! Do you expect me to just stand there and let you bleed to death? They won't call the cops! It's confidential information!"

"Well they will when Fasola's dead ass hits the news!" he insisted. Buffy took a moment to take in his revelation.

"Dawn! Go get a bottle of alcohol and some bandages! I'll help him into the kitchen!" she ordered.

"How is he?" Willow asked Dawn, as they watched Buffy tend to Angel's wounds.

"I dunno. Buffy seems pretty wigged, and Angel...he's just his usual asshole, except worse." Dawn replied. For a second she lost her train of thought, looking back from her sister to the man in front of her.

"They don't actually hate each other, do they?" she whispered to Willow, who shook her head in response.

"Since when?" she asked.

"Longer than you could have imagined, Dawn."

Dawn hesitated for a moment before she finally understood what her friend was telling her. "Who else knew about this?" she asked.

"Just me...I think," Willow replied.

"How could she fall for him? He's so terrible, and unforgiving, and he's our enemy, and he's a womanizer, and... he's absolutely gorgeous!" Dawn fantasized.

"Some people may surprise you." the redhead said quietly, maneuvering the younger woman away from the scene.

Angel stared at Buffy intently, watching her every move as she gently applied a long strip of gauze around his stomach. His face showed no emotion, just that same dangerously calm look he always had when he was deep in thought. She looked back into his eyes, finally deciding she could no longer avoid his intense gaze. She found herself getting lost in his deep brown eyes, bringing old memories back into her mind.

Cambridge, MA, near Boston

2002

Harvard University

North Campus

Buffy giggled as Angel slammed her against the door and kissed her furiously. She unbuttoned his white dress shirt as quickly as possible and in turn, he undid her sundress. Sure, waiting for class to end and seeing Angel secretly behind everyone's backs was a pain, but it was definitely worth it. And he made the experience all too pleasurable when he touched her like that, but she could never tire of it.

He abruptly pushed her onto his bed. As he stripped off her clothes, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. Sure, he's done this to dozens of women before, but none like Buffy.

"Oh god! Angel I love you so much!" she screamed as he caressed her breasts ever so gently, and rocked in between her thighs ever so smoothly. He planted wet kisses all over her neck. "Ti amo Elisabetta!" he moaned, meaning "I love you" in Italian.

As they lay together naked on the bed in each other's arms, Buffy wondered out loud, "What are we doing?"

"Who cares!" was all Angel replied and they both laughed in unison.

As Buffy wrapped a strip of gauze around Angel's stomach, she realized just how nervous and worried she was. Maybe it's the blood. His blood. His touch. Angel. She quickly shook all thoughts away and focused back on nursing the man in front of her. He squeezed his eyes shut and grunted in pain as she tightened the bandage. "Sorry!"

"It's fine. I've had worse. Left this scar on my leg. I survived though, because that's what I do. I survive." he lifted his head to look at her straight in the eyes. She returned his stare, sadness written all over her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn't find the courage to let the words come out of her mouth.

"What're you thinking about, Dona?" he wondered out loud when he noticed her deep in thought.

"Just...stuff." She stretched her neck and looked up at the high ceilings above her. Before speaking, she inhaled deeply.

"What happened to you Angel?"

"I got shot." he said simply, shrugging. Buffy nodded her head in annoyance. "You know what I mean."

"What do you want me to tell you Elisabetta? I'm older, smarter, stronger. People change, you know." he replied, not really giving her an answer.

"And what are you hoping to achieve here?"

"I dunno...money? Respect?" he said, clearly not interested.

"What more could you possibly want? You've got it all! You're this all high and mighty Godfather with all those things, and you still act like the business is hanging off a thread and that it's all you have!" she blurted out.

"Maybe that's because the business is all I have! Omertà. Till death, remember? I'd say the same for you too. And besides, I've got nothing else to lose, not you, not anyone! If I snap just once, I'll lose everything!" he raised his voice suddenly. Buffy's heart sank. There was a long silence.

"Then why did you leave me?" she asked softly, her voice hoarse and broken. A single tear slid down her cheek.

"Because I loved you too much to put you in danger! You were everything to me, Buffy! But when my father landed up with a silver bullet through his forehead, shot by god knows who, I knew we'd all be in danger. If I stayed with you any longer, you might have been killed just like your father and mine!" Then, surprised by his own outburst, he lowered his tone. "Don't you understand? I'll die before I see you get hurt!"

He sounded genuine, almost like he meant those words. But he didn't. She knew that. After how he lied to her before, he could by all means do it again. Because that's what he was, is, a liar.

"You left me all alone. After that day, I decided never to go near any man again. How could I have been so stupid to think that my family's worst enemy had fallen in love with me?" By now, she was all covered in tears. "I loved you," she said quietly, almost inaudibly.

He lifted a hand up and cupped her cheek. She didn't pull away, because at that moment, all that mattered was that she was with him. But then she suddenly snapped back to reality and remembered that he was probably lying. Probably. She gently took his hand off her cheek and went back to bandaging up his wound. For the rest of the time, no one uttered a single word.