"Well, I must say this is most bizarre, even by our standards," Wesley mused to him the next morning as the team piled into Angel's office and he filled them in on his encounter with Buffy. While things were far from being back to normal, not after the stunt he'd pulled and his behaviour towards his only friends, they were always willing to put aside their differences and focus on the greater good. Not having the Slayer was more important than hurt feelings.

"Do you think this has something to do with that psycho goddess bitch who wants to kill Dawn or whatever?" Cordelia chimed in, idly flipping through a magazine. She'd be the last to come around, Angel knew. And it didn't help that her and Buffy hadn't exactly been hair-braiding, pillow fighting, ice cream eating best friends. No, more like hair pulling, face punching, fashion insults and popularity wars with those two. He knew that she didn't want him to get hurt, or lose his soul. Again. But she didn't have to worry: he had no plans to get to know this new Buffy.

Which is why it was awfully inconvenient when the LAPD's newest officer strolled in, taking in the majesty of the Hyperion.

"Wow, this looks nice. It's a little dark -you must use SPF 80 when you go to the beach if you hate the sun this much- but it definitely sets the tone. You could film a noir movie in here."

Angel leaned a casual shoulder against the doorjamb of his office, trying to keep his distance from her, if only physically. An inscrutable expression marred his face. "Where you not listening when I said no?"

Buffy threw him a wicked grin. "Oh, I heard it. It went right in my brain, sat there, put it's feet up, then was promptly thrown out on it's ass and out the other end, now sitting dead and lifeless on the floor. Where it belongs. You give this big talk about helping people and yet when it comes down to it, you won't help me?" she demanded indignantly. A thought seemed to strike her and her features darkened. "Is it because I'm a girl? Because if it is, I will stick my foot so far up your ass-"

"I get the picture, Miss Summers," he interrupted although internally he was smirking at her familiar fire.

"That's Officer Summers to you, P.I. Joe." Buffy strode towards him, taking in the assembled group. "So, this is the gang, huh? Aren't you gonna introduce me?" she asked sweetly.

"No."

"God, is that the only word you know?" Buffy muttered under her breath, looking thinking he couldn't hear. But of course, he did. Had she always been this snarky towards him?

"Angel, you're acting suspicious," Wesley cautioned, stepping out of his boss's path before he could wheel him back in to the confines of the office. The former Watcher stuck out a hand, a bland smile on his face. "Officer, a pleasure to make your aquaintance. I'm ..."

"Wesley," the blonde finished for him.

He raised a brow.

"You look like a Wesley," she clarified.

"Yes, Wesley Wyndham-Price. I'll try to take that as a compliment," the Englishman said with a slight frown.

"You do that," she urged, turning her gaze to Cordelia. "And you must be the secretary."

"Secretary?" Cordelia scoffed, practically flinging her magazine at her in outrage. "I am no one's secretary! Did you tell her I was your secretary?" she accused Angel, pointing a finger. "Cause if you did..."

"Actually, I explicitly told her you weren't my secretary," the vampire tried to defend himself, but it did him little good. Cordelia sat back down, shooting daggers at him. Great. "That's Cordelia Chase," Angel told her.

"And I'm Gunn. Charles Gunn," the street-smart fighter cut in, trying to diffuse the situation somewhat.

"It's nice to meet you all. Sort of," Buffy offered. "Look, can we talk? Without the home team?"

Angel was hesitant to agree, then reasoned he might be able to get her out the door faster on his own: he knew what buttons to push. So he nodded.

The trio threw him disbelieving looks but complied with his wishes, skulking off to various corners of the hotel. None of them needed to tell him to be careful.

"Have a seat," he gestured with a sweep of his hand, coming to sit behind his desk. It was strange, to have her here. His Buffy had never been here before; Angel didn't even know if she knew he'd moved to the Hyperion, if she knew his old office had been blown up. If it was her standing before him, Angel would have given her the tour, would have been excited to share the place's history, and a piece of his own with her. He knew it had been frustrating, him knowing her so completely yet not being able to say the same about him. But this was not that Buffy, so he wasn't going to go into tour guide mode. Instead, he rested his hands flat on the desk, wishing he had a pen or something to occupy them but knowing she would pick up on any trace of nerves on his part.

"So, Angel," she said finally, putting particular emphasis on the noun. "You a big Cher fan?" Buffy quipped. He might have been old, but he got the last name jibe, or rather the lack of it. For a moment, he thought of her demon roommate from last year, and how Buffy had sworn off the singer for life. Such dramatics.

"Not particularly," he remarked vaguely, knowing it would irk her.

"Fair enough."

Goal achieved.

Angel took a needless breath, desperate to keep himself in check, in control of the situation. "I'm sorry, Officer, I really am, but I can't help you with your case. I won't put my client at risk," he said seriously, gaze hard.

Buffy leaned forward in her chair, blonde hair glinting in the light cast from his desk lamp. "And I totally respect that, honestly. But you have to respect that your client will be coming down to the precinct to give a statement and be interviewed. It's procedure," she added, as if trying to remind him of her greater authority.

"And I can't stop her, nor would I. But confidentiality is confidentiality: you won't get anything out of me, or my team," he added, knowing she would most likely pursue that angle of inquiry if she couldn't get what she wanted out of him.

Her eyes gleamed with challenge. "I'm sure you're right," she drawled, getting up from her chair. "But that remains to be seen. Good luck with your case, Angel," she said sincerely and left without a backwards glance.

Angel practically hurled himself out of his chair in his rush to get out of his office, desperate to get away from her and her scent that was now hanging in it like a palpable cloud. Even now, she still had such an effect on him, memories or not. It was scary, if he was being honest with himself. It was scary how much he loved her.

"Is it safe?" Cordelia called down from the balcony above, Wesley and Gunn flanking her sides.

"It's safe," he told her, but this must have done little to reassure the Seer, because Angel caught her blatant shiver and look of pure discomfort.

"What's wrong, Cordy?" the vampire asked, thinking that as a Seer, she might have sensed or seen something he had not.

"It's just so creepy!" Cordelia exclaimed, hands in the air.

"I'd have to agree with her, Angel," Wesley added although with albeit less fanfare, retrieving some of the tomes they'd scattered in his office.

Now he was getting frustrated. "Can someone fill me in?"

"I'm so used to you being all, 'As you wish, Buttercup,' around her and her being all, 'Farmboy, go stake that vampire for me while I comb out my hair," Cordelia continued to rant.

"We played 'Read That Book, Saw That Movie,' the other day," the former Watcher explained. "And I lost, so she made me watch it."

At Angel's and Gunn's amused looks, Cordelia was quick to defend herself. "Hey, just because my life is a fantasy toy box of yicky demon surprises doesn't mean I can't enjoy a good Cary Elwes flick."

Angel was more than familiar with the cult 80's film, having been in Manhattan at the time. He'd given the bright posters dotted around barely a cursory glance, like a Trekkie looking at the newest Star Wars movie. But Buffy had also made him watch it, before he'd lost his soul. She's even said to him once, '"This is true love, Angel. You think this happens every day?'" He'd said, "No, maybe just on Friday's." She'd laughed, and he'd kissed her, because she was his and he was hers, because he could and because he'd wanted to, he'd always wanted to kiss her. And hadn't that been the problem.

"I guess I just didn't expect it to be so weird, to see her not look at you with that love in her eyes," Cordelia said softly, and at the sound of her compassionate voice, given where their relationship currently stood, Angel knew she must feel truly sorry for him.

"It's not creepy. I'm fine," he told them, hoping as he said the words that he'd believe them himself.

"Looks like Bossman is taking a vacay to Egypt," supplied Gunn, lounging on the steps, pulling a broadsword from seemingly thin air, studiously cleaning it with a surprising gentleness.

"He means you're in denial," Wesley translated the slang, then went back to probably translating something else.

Angel crossed his arms over his chest, shirt straining at the muscles tort with suppressed tension. "I am not in denial," he quietly but fervently defended.

"Only people in denial say they're not in denial," Cordelia said over her shoulder as she went over to help Wesley.

"Word of advice? Give it up, man. There's no shame in being hung up on her still. We've all had a Buffy in our lives," offered Gunn, emotionally astute as he rarely was.

"Gunn?"

"Yeah?"

"If I'd wanted advice, I would have asked." Angel knew he was just trying to help, that it was actually sage advice and that no one would blame him for being off-kilter, but to Angel it felt like an embarrassment: he was their boss, he shouldn't be getting all mushy after two conversations with a woman he didn't even really know.

"That's it. I'm gonna settle this once and for all," he declared, purpose igniting in his stride as he picked up the office phone and dialled a familiar number.

But the wrong person answered the Summers's phone. "Hello, this is Rupert Giles."

Angel's heart sank in his chest, but he forced himself to remain calm; it could mean nothing.

"Giles, it's Angel," the vampire began somewhat nervously -their relationship had never been what one could call stable or pleasant or friendly. "Look, I know it's been a while but I need to..."

"Is that Angel?" he heard Willow ask the Watcher. "Does he know something about Buffy?"

At the Brit's stuttered reply, she said, "What? It's not like he's going to be asking about Xander's new toaster oven."

"Hey, that toaster oven is a thing of beauty: it does both toast and bagels, unlike the old one that only did toast, and poorly at that, might I add."

Angel was silent, not really listening, knowing from experience it would be useless to try and interrupt the diatribe.

"Yeah, now I don't have to use my nail file to get out the burnt bits stuck in the corners so that it doesn't catch fire. Again." And that was Anya. Angel had almost forgotten the two of them were still together. Lucky them.

"Right, no more eating calcified pieces of my girlfriend's toenails with my mornin' brekkie. Livin' the dream."

God, when was this gonna end?

"Can you shut up for longer than it takes to open a packet of crisps and actually let me hear what the two hundred and forty year old has to say about Buffy's absence, or is that too much for you? Because if it is, say the word and I'll throw you out the door so fast you'll think times gone backwards?" Giles snapped.

Point to the Watcher.

"Sorry," Angel heard the boy say.

"Right, apologies," Giles said to Angel primly, "where were we?"

"Buffy."

"Of course. What do you know?"

Where did he start? "I have a client, Samantha Blackwell, goes by Sam. She had this boyfriend who turned out to be a demon and he needs her for some ritual or other- I'm hazy on the details- and he's been targeting her friends and family, saying that if she doesn't come willingly he'll kill them. I promised to protect her, and her mother, and Sam's agreed to stay here at the hotel with us. But her mom...I was too late.

"So, here I am, at the crime scene, when Buffy follows me down an alley, thinking I was a suspect. She had no memory of me, but she wanted my help with the case, sharing information. I told her no, obviously: I didn't want her involved."

"I'm guessing she didn't take no for an answer?"

Angel shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. "You'd guess right. She strolled out of here not twenty minutes ago, in an understandable huff with me." He paused for a moment, his un-beating heart aching in his chest. "She didn't know me, Giles," he murmured, voice ragged. "It was her, I know it was her, right down to her non police policy boots. But she's not even the Slayer anymore, is she?" he asked the Watcher. "I've always been able to sense her power, but now I can't feel anything." That nothingness terrified him. Without her powers, she was mortal, just another human for a vampire to feed on. Vulnerable, defenseless. A target.

Giles seemingly gathered his thoughts on the other end. "I take it Buffy explained Dawn's...history when you last visited?" he broached carefully.

"I know bits," the vampire admitted.

"You know about Glory?"

"The goddess who wants Dawn's blood to because she's some kind of key?" Angel said.

"Yes, exactly. Since Joyce's passing," the man's voice cracked, and Angel couldn't restrain the pang of sympathy that shot through him at hearing the man so sad, "Glory has increased her efforts to capture Dawn. She tried to storm the house: the two had a fight. Before we could get to her, Glory hit Buffy with a kind of energy pulse, not unlike something from a DC comic, or so I'm told. Anyway, it didn't seem to harm her in any physical way: she just looked like she was sleeping. Glory did some kind of incantation, then she disappeared."

"Glory?"

"No, Buffy."

Angel couldn't keep the growl from his voice. "And you waited until now to tell me because?"

"Because we didn't know what it was," the Watcher snapped. "And because, quite frankly, it's not your place. You left her, not the other way around Angel, don't forget that." Angel tried not to flinch at the harsh tone, and the harsher truth of his words.

"And more importantly," Giles continued, "because Glory has trapped Sunnydale in a magical forcefield so we can't get out, and yours is the first phonecall to get through."

"Oh." Angel sighed. "You should have just led with that."

"In hindsight, perhaps. But aside from not remembering you, is she okay?" Giles asked him, in a tone of voice Angel associated with worried parents. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, his heart, a part of him had always been a little jealous of the father-daughter relationship Buffy and her Watcher had shared, given his relationship with his own father, who although they had shared blood had hated Liam and everything he was. He'd had a right to, in retrospect: he had not been a good man. But even as a child, Angel had not received even an ounce of the kind of affection Buffy had garnered from Giles. She deserved such love: he didn't.

"Yes," he assured him, "she's okay." Angel ran a hand through his hair. "But why is she here? And if she's here, where's Glory? I can't imagine a hell goddess like her just dumping her somewhere and taking off. Is she still in Sunnydale?"

Angel heard Giles shuffling some papers, no doubt looking through his many books. "As of late, it's been relatively quiet," he commented with a kind of wary apprehension, one Angel understood all too well: when vampires were quite, it was because they wanted to be out of the way of worse things. Or someone was ordering them to be. "Buffy's been gone hardly a week, and we've seen perhaps four or five vampires. It's my suspicion that Glory may use them to coordinate a surprise attack, to strike out at us, now that we are without the Slayer as interference." He paused for a moment, and Angel could picture him cleaning his glasses. "If she's here, she's doing a damn good job of keeping a low profile."

"How's Dawn?" Angel asked, leaning back against the counter, starting to relax now that he finally knew what was going on. A bad situation was better handled with all the facts on the table, and he didn't want to go into this blind.

"She's a wreck. She's putting up an admirable front to hide it, but after losing her mother, and now with Buffy gone...she shouldn't have to put up with this," Rupert protested fervently, and it made Angel see just how much the Scoobies had come to care for this kid, as he knew they would have: she was Buffy's blood, after all.

"You're right," he agreed. "I'm sorry I can't do more to help on your end," Angel told him, contrite in a way he had rarely been with the Watcher.

"You've done more than enough," Giles was quick to assure him. "Just knowing that she's alive, and unharmed, it helps a great deal. All of us."

"I'm glad," Angel said with a smile.

"Well, I'll work on finding out exactly what that energy pulse was that Glory used on her. I haven't had much luck these past few days, but there has to be something out there somewhere. And I'm sorry to ask, I know this isn't your fight, but if you could just keep an eye on her..." The Watcher could barely get the words out. "If anything ever happened to her, again, I'd..."

Die.

Angel felt the same.

In his heart, he knew it would come to this as soon as he saw her in that alley: there was no avoiding her, or leaving her in the state she was in. No matter how painful it might be around her, no matter what it cost him, all of that would mean nothing if something happened to her. Angel wouldn't let her get hurt, not if he had anything to do with it.

So, he thought, I guess I'm involved now. Looks like I'll be getting to now her after all.

"It's done," Angel said flatly. "I'll keep you updated on what's going on at my end," he promised the Watcher.

"That would be most appreciated."

Angel was about to hang up when Giles said, albeit hesitantly, "Angel? I know it may not be my place, given our history, but I just wanted to say I'm sorry about all this. Being around Buffy, yet her having no memory of you...I can't imagine what that would be like," Giles admitted softly.

Humans. He'd been alive for over two hundred years, and yet they still had the capacity to surprise him. "It is," he told him, open and honest. "But we'll find a way: we always did."

"Yes, you're right," Giles said and hung up the phone.

Emotionally exhausted, Angel didn't even fill his team in on what he'd learnt, instead making his way up to his room on weary feet. Yet the familiar surroundings did little to comfort him, for all he could think about was Buffy, out in the city somewhere, completely oblivious to him and her friends and her duty. In a way, she was in the same state she had been before she became the Slayer, ignorant to the true horrors that lurked in the darkness, in the shadows even the brightest light shied away from. And it might have been selfish, to strip her from that ignorance, but Angel knew he had to: the world needed Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and so did he.

Author's Note: Hello, everyone, welcome to chapter two. I'll be posting every other day until I get to all the chapters I've written so far. By the way, Thai is a Bangel story, sorry if I didn't make that clear enough. It will also be canon-divergent from both the Buffy and Angel tv shows, because there are characters I'm dying to play with who I wouldn't be able to otherwise if I kept it canon compliant. What did you think? Please, I'd love it if you left a review and shared your thoughts.

Until we meet again, (on Sunday).

All my love, Temperance Cain