Quietly opening the door to the apartment, Charlie stepped through, noticed all the lights were off, and wondered how long she had been up on the roof. She had gotten lost in her thoughts and been singing softly for a while, and it felt good and so familiar that her crystals felt warm in her pockets. She knew there were memories just below the surface, wanting to rise. She had tried to concentrate on those memories and pull them forward, but they were still very cloudy. She then tried to sing about her thoughts, but her words came out in a very unladylike yawn, and she conceded that she needed sleep. Dropping her key into the dish by the door, she started for the bedroom, but a soft cough from the kitchen stopped her. She turned and saw Angel's shadow sitting at the table, a half-empty bottle of Scotch sitting to the side. Charlie whispered softly, "I thought you'd be asleep by now."

"I didn't want to intrude on you on the roof, but I couldn't go to sleep with us angry at each other."

"I'm not angry anymore. Only tired. Can we talk in the morning?"

Angel lifted his glass and took a drink. Dropping the glass on the table a little harder than he intended, it gave Charlie a start. "Sorry. I'm a little drunk."

Charlie shuffled softly over to the kitchen table and sat down next to Angel. She looked at Cassie's empty glass and the bottle and reached for it. Angel put his hand on her forearm, "It's strong stuff."

"I'm not a child," Charlie said softly, laying her other hand over his, "We both suffered tonight."

Letting go of her arm, Angel sat back and watched Charlie pour enough Scotch into her glass that it almost spilled over the lip. He chuckled softly and got a look for it.

"What?"

Angel shook his head, took back the bottle, and poured two fingers into his glass, "If you want to catch up to me, that'll do it."

Charlie kept her look on him, lifted the glass, and took a long drink, letting a full four ounces of high-proof Scotch flow down her throat. Angel's eyes went wide as Charlie set the glass down, closed her eyes, and mmmmed.

"How?"

"It's hot, burns, and soothes my demon side." Charlie smiled as her cheeks flushed with warmth, "I think we have spirits in Hell, and I'm sure I've had my share."

"Spirits in Hell." Angel repeated, and Charlie snickered, taking another long drink to finish off her glass while he threw back his shot.

"I made a pun, didn't I?"

"You did." Angel poured himself another shot and held the bottle out. Charlie pushed her glass over, and Angel poured enough to fill hers again, and she smiled.

"We never had a drink together, Angel. Even with all the times you took me out or brought fast food back to the hotels, why?"

"I don't drink."

It was said in such a way that Charlie sniffled, suddenly sad. She'd driven him to this, and it scraped at her soul, "Angel?"

"I almost lost you tonight. I saw him raise his gun at you, and his aim was true. If I'd been seconds later, I'd have watched you die. I blew up at you in the car because I was so scared."

Charlie sniffled again, wiping her eyes, "I was scared too. Scared for the children, and I disobeyed you. Had I listened, I could have come to save you first. I was angry, too, because all I could see in my mind was losing you."

"Do you want to stop working with me?"

"No!" Charlie's answer was quick and firm, and Angel felt relieved, "I promise to try to stick to the plans you set."

"Try." Angel repeated, "Is all I've ever honestly expected from you, Charlie. Your devotion to the children and to saving lives is as much, if not more, than my own. I don't fault you for following your emotions. I only ask that you try, as you said, to keep to the plans, so I can keep you safe, too."

"I will."

"Thank you."

He lifted his glass to her, and she reciprocated in kind, and they toasted with a clink of their glasses. Charlie took a long drink, swallowed, and felt her body warm even more. She then took another long drink and finished off her glass again. Angel took a long drink in kind, feeling like a novice to her, then poured both of them full glasses, emptying the bottle completely, and swirled the glass in his hand. Watching the Scotch move, he contemplated listening to his sister's advice. He debated it as he took a long drink of his own, eyes closed as he savored the burn, and figured, What the hell? Get it out, be honest with her, and tell her how you feel.

"Charlie?" Setting his glass down and opening his eyes, he looked over to see Charlie's head on the table, eyes closed and out like a light. Soft snores escaped through half-parted dark lips and cheeks flushed ruby red. Smiling softly, Angel stood, stepped over, and gently lifted Charlie into his arms. Walking down the hallway, he felt her snuggle her head against his shoulder, rubbing her cheek against his shirt, and she whispered in her dreams, "I love you, Angel."

Bending his head down, Angel brushed his lips against her forehead and whispered back, "I love you, too, Charlie."

Pushing the bedroom door open, he stepped in and gently laid her upon their shared bed as she mumbled in her dreams. Carefully, he pulled a spare quilt over her for warmth. Stepping back, he took a moment to watch her curl up under the quilt and wiped his eyes. Moving quietly, Angel left the room and quietly shut the door behind him. One more night on the couch so she could sleep off her first drunken stooper seemed the wisest way to go. As he settled down on the couch and pulled the quilt up against his shoulders, he hoped that the day would come when they wouldn't have to hold back anymore.