Through the bars of the holding cell of the Redondo Beach Police Station, John sighed again and gazed at Buffy. She was alone in the cell for females across from theirs and he wondered how she could look so calm. Had she seen that side a cell before? His intent stare turned into a scowl as he shifted slightly. The cold metal bench under him was starting to get really uncomfortable. He couldn’t help but admire Buffy, who sat on her own metal bench and stared back at him, just as intently.

John gingerly touched the swollen skin around his eye and was glad that he hadn’t been wearing his glasses tonight. Dirk groaned beside him and John patted his leg.

“You’ll be alright, mate. I don’t think it’s broken.”

Dirk removed the wet rag from his nose and glared at John. “Yeah, well, it hurts like a bitch, broken or not.”

Chet stopped pacing in front of them and through clenched teeth said, “If you’d learn to put a filter on your fucking mouth, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“What? All I said was that the biker chick looked like her face got put through a meat grinder. It was the truth.”

John glared at Dirk. “That’s what this was all about?”

With a shiver of disgust, Dirk said, “You should have seen her.”

Just then, two of the bikers came in, followed by two police officers. They shoved them into the cell next to John, Chet and Dirk’s. As soon as the guards left, one pointed across the way to Buffy. “Hey, that’s the chick that tossed me across the parking lot.”

Buffy just looked down at her shoes and grinned.

“Don’t be a wuss, man. She’s way too tiny to be able to throw you,” the other guy said.

Dirk stood up and started to say something, but Chet grabbed him, covered his mouth and pushed him back down into the bench. Disgusted with his friend, John got up and wrapped his hands around the bars. Buffy also stood and, with a smile on her face, she mirrored his actions and held onto her own bars.

John always wondered how he came to know martial arts and how he ever honed his reflexes to be so precise. He’d spent a lot time when he was at the hospital, coming up with scenarios for who he might be, which he was currently working his way through in the four books that he had planned out. The woman across from him seemed to have better reflexes than he did and an unnatural strength for her size and weight. His body reacted in an irrational way to the thought of sparring with Buffy. He let his mind go and wondered what it would be like to be shoved against a wall by her.

Horrified at his thoughts, John shook his head as if to throw them out.

“You all right?” Buffy asked.

“Just don’t like being cooped up, is all.”

“It shouldn’t be long now.”

“How far away is this friend of yours?” John said, hoping that he didn’t sound jealous.

She never clarified what kind of friendship she had with the man on his way to the station, and John knew he had no right to feel jealousy. It should have been enough that she’d told him that she didn’t have a boyfriend.

“At this time of night, with the lighter traffic, he could be here within the hour.”

“And he keeps that much cash lying around?”

She nodded. “He doesn’t trust banks and has a safe at his home.”

John was grateful that she knew someone who could help them out. With his next royalty check due any day, he didn’t have enough to bail himself out. Chet and Dirk both didn’t have enough cash on hand either. Buffy mentioned that she didn’t want to use her company funds to get bailed out, because she didn’t want her boss to find out what happened. When she offered to get her friend to bail them all out, John was sure she’d come back and say that he would only get her out, but after she’d made her phone call, she came back to her cell and said that some guy named Angel was on his way with the cash for all of them.

There was a girl over in Manhattan Beach named Angel that he’d gone on one date with and so when he would hear that name, he could only envision a tall girl with short black hair. And while he’d never seen her in anything but beach wear, he could always picture her in a trench coat for some reason.

A uniformed police officer entered the holding area and consulted his clipboard. “Summers, Browning, Price and Hastings, stand at the doors please.”

Within minutes, all four of them had signed papers for release and then they were ushered out to the station lobby. John held the door open for Buffy and let it go to hit Dirk as he tried to pass through.

“Dude, watch what you’re doing,” the surfer exclaimed.

But John was transfixed by the man who stood at the reception window with a grim expression on his face. It had to be Angel. He knew it was Angel. John suddenly felt self-conscious and an unexplainable maze of mixed emotions washed over him. Chet went forward, introduced himself and shook the man’s hand, promising to pay him back for the bail money.

Angel wore a dark trench coat, much like John had imagined. Too long to actually look good on the man, but he still appeared formidable. Dirk gave John a shove forward and the world around him got a little fuzzy, sort of like a dream where things slowed down. It felt like memories were trying to claw their way up in his brain to where he could reach them, but they wouldn’t surface.

Buffy wasn’t smiling. She played with a ring on her pinky and wouldn’t meet Angel’s eyes or John’s. He didn’t like it. Something was really off.

“Hi. I’m John Price,” he forced himself to say as the strange feelings subsided. “And this is Dirk Browning. Thanks for bailing us out. We’ll pay you back.”

If anyone thought it was rude that Angel didn’t offer his hand to John and Dirk, no one said so. Instead, he mumbled something that sounded like, “Nice to meet you.” Angel’s own expression seemed to mirror the way Spike was feeling. Dislike, laced with respect and a bit of shock.

Buffy cleared her throat. “Could you give us a ride back to the nightclub?”

“My car’s just outside.”

John was very aware of Angel watching him intently as they walked to the car. The three men sat in the back while Buffy sat in the passenger seat. The ride was quiet and from John’s vantage point, diagonal from Buffy’s seat, he could see her wringing her hands.

Normally not the most observant of men, Dirk seemed to catch on to the tension between Buffy and Angel and noted John’s increasing agitation. In a loud voice that pierced the low humming of the car, he asked John, “Did you remember to ask Buffy to go with you to that thing you have on Tuesday?”

Buffy quickly glanced at Angel then turned in her seat to look back. “What thing?”

“Uh…well, I have this mystery writer’s convention that my agent insists that I have to make an appearance at. Tuesday afternoon. Since you’ve read the book, I thought you might like to come with me.” He brushed a stray piece of lint off his leg and then stared at her again. “There will be free food and I’m only sitting on one panel and have one book signing session.”

“I’d love to go with you,” Buffy said softly. “Where is it being held?”

“Anaheim. At the convention cent--”

“Where do I turn?” Angel asked abruptly and Buffy turned back to give Angel more directions.

Angel kept his engine idling and his hands on the wheel as everyone else exited the car. Chet waved goodbye before he jogged towards his car around the back of the club.

“Give me a minute,” Buffy said to John as he held a hand out for her. “I need to speak with Angel.”

He nodded and walked with Dirk towards John’s Volkswagen Jetta. Thinking about it, he was sure that he’d met Angel before. Somewhere. He tossed the keys to Dirk and turned back towards Angel’s car. Buffy was leaning into the driver’s side through the open window and as he got closer, he could hear her words.

“I don’t want to talk about it now. I’ll call you soon. After I talk to Giles.”

Angel made a motion with his hand to indicate that John was right behind her. She stood up straight, smiled a little too brightly at him. “You ready to go?”

“Not yet.” Going to Buffy’s side, John leaned down to peer into the car. “This is going to sound crazy, mate, but I think we’ve met before. Only I don’t remember it because I lost all my memories. Do you know me?”

Buffy placed a hand on John’s shoulder, but Angel said, “I did go to your after hours book signing at the Hollywood Barnes and Noble. You signed my copy of your book.” Angel scowled as he said it, and John wondered what that was all about. The dark haired man didn’t look like the type that went to book signings.

“Oh,” John said, moving back from the car, feeling silly and a little disappointed that Angel wouldn’t be able to tell him anything about who he had been before.

“I’m amazed that you would remember my face.” Angel’s countenance softened from the scowl to something John could only describe as fondness. “With all the people you’ve met lately, that’s quite a memory you have.”

John scratched his head, not quite knowing how to process the way the other man was acting towards him. “I guess so. Well, thanks again for bailing us all out. How will I know where to send the money I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

John started to protest, but Buffy cut him off. “You can give it to me, and I’ll make sure Angel gets it.”

“Dude, let’s go!” Dirk said from the passenger side of John’s car. “I’ll never be able to get up for the waves tomorrow if I don’t get some sleep.”

Angel waited for them to get into the car and get it started before he sped off back to Los Angeles. They only had to go one block, and as soon as John parked the car, Dirk headed for the building, telling John that he wouldn’t wait up for him. In the elevator ride up to Buffy’s floor, John leaned against the safety rail and grinned at her.

“Well, this date didn’t go exactly as I had planned.”

She closed her eyes briefly as she let out a short laugh and then tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I have a feeling things don’t go according to plan with you very often.”

“How did you know?” he said cheerfully, as they stepped out of the elevator and walked towards her door. “Sod’s Law and I are best mates.”

She put the key in the lock, turned the knob and gently pushed the door open. They stared at each other, but Buffy didn’t step inside.

“Um, maybe you should come in and put some ice on that eye.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” John touched it and winced. “Is it already turning purple?”

“Yes, but I have plenty of ice.”

“I’ll be fine.” He wanted very much to step inside her apartment and start something that would lead to him staying the night, but something told him he should hang back a little. Take it slower. This was not the run of the mill average type of woman and instinctively he knew how much she could end up meaning to him. He didn’t want to cheapen that. “And despite the end of our date, I had a really good time tonight.”

Buffy smiled at him, the corner of her eyes crinkling. “I had a wonderful time and I don’t know about you, but the fight was kind of exciting.”

John couldn’t seem to get Angel off his mind. “Can I ask you something?”

She leaned against the frame of the door and shrugged. “Sure.”

“I couldn’t help but notice the tension between you and Angel. What is he to you?”

She shifted from one foot to the other. “A long time ago, he was my boyfriend. But now, we work together on occasion. I just got through with a two-year assignment with him and I don’t think he expected to hear from me again so soon.”

He gently took her hand in his. “I really like you, Buffy, but if you have some sort of push and pull going on with Angel, then I need you to tell me now before I get any more crazy about you.”

John was so relieved to see her shake her head. “Absolutely not. Angel and I are just friends. All that time that we worked together, there were no romantic feelings. Between the time that we dated and when we first started working together again, we’d both had other relationships and had grown into different people.”

“You don’t know how glad I am to hear that.”

He loved a take-charge kind of woman, so when she made the first move, by standing straighter and putting her arm around his waist, he leaned to meet her halfway. Their lips brushed together and it was like dry brush igniting on fire. She pulled him closer, deepening the kiss and he put his arms around her, holding her tightly. The air around them seemed to crackle with electricity even as their lips separated. He went back for a short but passionate kiss and then reached up to touch her cheek.

“I’d better go before I turn into a git and start feeding you lines to convince you to let me in.”

Her happy little sigh gave him the confidence he needed to know he was doing the right thing by not rushing things.

She ran a hand over the thin sweater covering his chest, the contact making him shiver as she said, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

She didn’t close her door. He turned and walked down the hall to the elevator, very aware of her dreamy stare in his direction. Little things about the night nagged at him, but as he glanced at her smiling face one last time before entering the elevator, he filed the negative thoughts in the back of his head to be pulled out later, when he wasn’t on such a high from the beginnings of a new romance.

John tried to be quiet as he entered his dark apartment. He walked through the living room with its glass-covered, framed movie posters of his favorite surfing documentaries, The Endless Summer and its sequel, the comfortable brown couch and bookshelves. Switching the light on in the kitchen, he grabbed the last clean cup in the cupboard and poured himself some water from the pitcher in the refrigerator. The kitchen was never spotless. Dirk usually waited until every plate and utensil was used before he did the dishes. That or he would wait until the cleaning lady came on Thursdays.

Dirk appeared from his bedroom. “I didn’t think you’d be here tonight. Didn’t get lucky, huh?”

With a grin, John said, “Oh, I got lucky, all right. She’s a bloody gem, that one. And well worth waiting for.”

“Why wait when you could partake?”

“Never mind that.” He pointed to the sink. “But, please, have these dishes done before we leave in the morning. I’d be ashamed to invite her up here with this mess.”

“Already talking about inviting her to the pad? You’ve got it bad, dude.”

“Yes, I think I have.”