A/N: Here goes, everybody. Hope you enjoy!

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Spike and Buffy headed back to the mansion soon after Buffy finished her shower and magickally healed herself. They stopped only to grab her Nissan then drove in separate cars towards Beverly Hills.

They entered the mansion side by side, heading down the hallway that led to the library. Once there, Buffy slid her hand down the gilded frame of her larger-than-life portrait until it gave them the passageway into darkness below.

Buffy’s feet found their way efficiently in the dark; Spike’s combat boots resonated loudly beside her. Every few steps he would brush into her, and excite flesh even through several layers of fabric.

She knew her father was down there, could hear him talking in broken tones to Tesh about the Gustuuk situation.

The stairs opened up into the cavernous underground where most of the real Summers’ work took place. Tesh stood next to her father, looking up at them when they entered with a tremulous smile. Deandre was standing in fight pose opposite her father, breathing heavily with a lowered battle ax in his hand.

“Ah, Buffy. I take it you and Spike just came back from scouting?”

“Yeah. We have some serious problems going on down there.”

“I know,” Hank said mildly, polishing the sword he’d been practicing with on the edge of his jacket.

“I’m going to let you and Spike handle this one this weekend, when Timo and Nikko get back from San Francisco. Take any of the other boys you need, set up a stakeout time, and get rid of them all. I don’t want this interfering with our Labor Day barbeque.”

Buffy nodded.

“We’ll take care it, don’t worry.”

He gave her a warm smile as he placed the sword down on a table crowded with only cleanly polished weapons.

“I have the utmost faith in you.”

“Now then, business being out of the way. Mrs. Garcia cooked us a lovely meal. You go on up and have a cocktail. Spike and I will be up in a minute. Just need to have a few words with him.”

Buffy glanced between the two of them, trying not to let her nervousness show through. Spike made eye contact with her, and she relaxed seeing that he was okay with it.

“Okay,” she said, then turned to leave.

“Oh, and Buffy? Don’t forgot tomorrow is Friday. Wolfram and Hart have the meeting scheduled for eleven. You’ll need to be in the limo by 10:30. I know my girl’s going to just wow them.”

She had completely forgotten about his Wolfram and Hart assignment with the drama of the last two days, and at the reminder Buffy’s heart thumped painfully in her chest.

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” she said softly. “I’ll take care of that, too.”

“That’s my girl.” Then he turned and began talking to Spike as Buffy did her best not to flee back upstairs to safer ground.

She headed to the lounge off the library to wait for the two men in her life. She poured herself a Greygoose martini to calm her nerves about was happening below, and took several hasty swallows.

Spike finally strolled in a few minutes laterd, his coat swaying in time to his fluid movements. Buffy had a flashback of their encounter in the alley earlier in the day, of leather on flesh and quivering limbs, and took another burning gulp.

“What’d he say?”

“He wants us to work together until this gets resolved.”

“Really?” Her drink was gone now, and she quickly poured herself another one.

“Seems so, pet.” His blue eyes sparkled. “He wants me to stay for dinner.”

“And, he said we need some more “one-on-one time.””

Her mouth dropped slightly at the implied meaning. Her thoughts flew to her dead gardener lover, relief filling her that her father seemed more accepting of Spike.

“You’re fucking with me! He said that exactly?” Spike shoved his hands into his jeans’ pockets and rocked back on his heels, mouth spread in a wide grin.

“Bloody right, he did. Seemed right chipper that I was bedding up with his girl.”

She set her drink down on the bar and closed her eyes. She sensed Spike as he came over and stood in front of her.

“Buffy, love.”

She opened her eyes and saw his amusement had transformed into concern for her, the soft glimmer in his eyes that was like a whisper to her heart.

“We’ll be alright, pet. I’ll take care of you.”

And Buffy, more than anything in her whole glamorous and violently charmed life, wanted to believe him.

He touched her cheek briefly, a gesture that was quickly become commonplace between them.

“Come on, princess. I smell pork chops.”

*

Giles left shortly before Buffy and Spike to return to his hotel. He slid into the rental car he’d gotten the day before, pulled his flask out of his jacket pocket and tossed it into the glove box.

For the first time since Joyce had left him for that devil of a man Hank Summers, the rage in him was calm, mellowed down to a distant roar with the promise of fading completely. And it was all due to the familiar hazel eyes of a seventeen-year-old girl.

Oh, he knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Hank Summers was a man with a far reaching empire; he had many friends in hellishly low places. But, thought Giles grimly, he had as many enemies that would step up once they realized what Buffy could do.

Ah, Buffy herself… Such beauty and power hiding the doubts of a girl on the brink of womanhood. When he had spoken to her, looked into her eyes, it was as if he was reconnected with Joyce, for just a moment, and it had been amazing.

As parked his car in the hotel’s underground parking garage, he shifted through what he was going to report to Travers. A slow grin broke out across his face.

Savable, he decided.

Definitely savable.

*

Angel found Cordelia in the left wing of the mansion, outside the formal dining room. There was a dinner in progress, part of Mayor Chase’s attempts to gain support from the city council for his new social reforms. He had never been a big fan of such politically oriented affairs, leaning more towards taking action than talk. That was why he’d started working for Chase to begin with; to try and redeem himself for his sins by standing by the only man in Los Angeles that stood between total evil taking over.

He realized as he came down into the glitter and pomp that he’d completely forgotten the dinner was even taken place. And then he forgot how to speak.

Cordy was standing next to a pillar, wearing a silver Gucci dress that clung to curves he hadn’t even known she’d had, long golden legs parting the dress’s thigh high slit. She was speaking to some minor council member, Christopher-something, laughing as she sipped at her glass of champagne. She was a bright, freshly glittering creature against the rest of room’s gaudiness.

Seventeen, he thought, is a very evil age.

He walked over slowly, letting his eyes roam over her, from the top of her glossy chestnut hair down to her manicured toes. Whatever she was saying to her current companion trailed off as she realized he was devouring her with his eyes. He watched her smile almost shyly, then turn to part ways with the eager councilman.

“Hi,” she said softly as she came to stand next to him.

“Thought you didn’t like these sorta things.”

“Not here for the party.”

“Oh,” was all she said. She could feel hope swell in her chest, a little glimmer that maybe her patience would finally pay off and she could finally be with the man she loved.

He was staring down at her hungrily, as if he’d never seen a woman before.

“Listen, my face time here’s done. Let me just go tell Dad I’m leaving and we can go somewhere and get a drink or something.”

“Sounds good.”

She was back in a flash, putting her hand on his arm and squeezing gently.

“Let’s go.”

They took his car, the black Mustang convertible he’d bought earlier in the year. Angel drove them high up into the hills, not in the mood for company other than her

He finally stopped them at the top of a bluff overlooking the city. There were no houses in sight, only the distant lights of the glittering world below.

“You do love your solitude, don’t you?” she asked dryly as he turned the engine off.

He ignored the question as he stared down at the city below.

“This is one of my favorite places,” he said. “Its where I go when I want to remember what I’m fighting for.”

“Everything below is visible, containable. Its comforting to realize that evil isn’t as big as you might think.”

He could feel Cordy’s eyes set on his face as he opened up to the first person in over 100 years.

“I feel safer, knowing that you’re watching out for me,” she said softly.

He turned to her, suddenly furious with both himself and her.

“Well you shouldn’t! Do you know what I am? I’m a killer Cordy. I kill things. Evil things, mostly, but that hasn’t always been so. I used to eat girls like you for breakfast.”

She raised her eyebrow at him.

“Your point being?”

“I…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Why don’t you just shut up and kiss me already?”

With a groan, he was kissing her, devouring those fantastic lips, and the smell of her overcame him. She smelled like flowers and clean flesh, and just a touch of perspiration. He thrust his hands into her hair, pinning her to the seat as he ravaged her mouth. She pulled him closer, urging him on with sexy little whimpers.

He finally pulled away, gasping for air he didn’t need, staring at her with dark eyes.

“This is insane. You’re Chase’s daughter.”

“Well, just deal with it, because I’m planning on seducing you,” she confessed, her eyes glittering with laughter and lust.

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore how his dick jumped eagerly at her words.

“Hey, just thought I should give you fair warning. Its all part of this great plan I’ve got to end your brooding fits.”

“Cordy,” he managed, opening his eyes and waging an inner battle not to let his demon come to the fore.

She lifted her hand, touched his cheek with her slender fingertips, as if to brush away his pain.

“Angel, its okay, I’ll wait. Just wanted you to know, I know what you are. More important, I know what you are in spite of it.”

So Angel closed his eyes and let her help him forget.