DISCLAIMER: I don’t own them. I don’t own them. No matter how many times I say it, it’s still true.
TIMELINE: Entirely AU. 
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hey! This is based on Victoria’s challenge called the Family. It’s a mafia story and is entirely AU. Thanks to everyone who sent feedback, I adore you all!
FEEDBACK: Feedback would be greatly appreciated. Pretty please?
RATING: Well, there’s nothing gratuitous here, but there will be some violence later. Perhaps a stronger rating than Buffy the show, but definitely NOT as bad as The Godfather. Does that clear it up for you
This is in response to Victoria's mafia family challenge , posted at the BA_Fluff mailing list. This could get complicated, so here's a list of the major characters, based quite closely on Victoria's challenge. Hopefully this will help explain some stuff and also hint and things to come!
Anthony Crocetti- The father of Santino, Danielo, Alessandro and Buffy (The Baby). A high powered mafia godfather, he has been pursued by the police all his adult life, and is very protective of his only daughter.
Rupert (Giles) Crocetti- Anthony’s brother, lived many years in England. Has never married, runs the casino side of the family business in Las Vegas
Daniella Vitelli Crocetti- Deceased wife of Anthony and mother of Santino, Danielo, Alessandro and Buffy.
Santino Crocetti- 27 years old, his father’s right hand, a brilliant but dangerous young man, looked on as his father’s successor in the Family.
Danielo Crocetti- 24 years old and trying not to be associated with the Family. He and Buffy were the only ones in the house when their mother was killed and he is almost obsessed with Buffy's safety
Alessandro (Xander) Crocetti- 23 years old, an artist. Now lives in New Orleans soaking up the jazz scene far away from the Family business.
Buffy Crocetti- 19 years old, and the only daughter of Anthony and Daniella. Buffy was just baby when her mother was killed, Doesn’t approve of the Family business, but is unerringly loyal to her father.
William (Spike) Liotta- 25 years old, former hood and now Buffy’s bodyguard. Has been with the Family for ten years and is completely loyal to both Anthony and Buffy.
The Martin Family:
Angel Martin- 27 years old, an FBI agent. He is dedicated to the eradication of organised crime, and in particular, the Crocetti Family.
Dru Martin- 25 years old, Angel’s sister. Unknowingly in several classes at UCLA with Buffy.
Gunn Martin- 22 years old, adopted brother of Angel. Now a police officer, he blames the Crocetti Family for the death of his parents.
Faith Martin- 20 years old, Angel’s sister and also a student at UCLA but doesn’t know Buffy. Yet.

Buffy had always struggled to remember anything of her mother. It was an impossible task, for Daniella had died when Buffy was just a babe in arms. She wondered if her mother would have liked her. She recalled sitting on her father’s knee in his office as he showed her pictures of a beautiful young woman and told her stories of her mother.

Not that she should be surprised that her mother was killed. Daniella Crocetti had, after all, been the beautiful young wife of the most powerful mob boss, not only on the West Coast, but in all of the United States. Antonio Crocetti’s father had been the most powerful boss in New York City- in control of every racket in Manhattan, the Bronx and Brooklyn. Primo Crocetti had arrived in New York in the first years of the 20th Century from Palermo, Sicily. He had, at first tried to be legitimate- he had seen too many good men die at home from Mafia vendettas. But it had, for Primo, a proud man, been too difficult to pay protection money to the boss in Little Italy at the time. He and some friends conspired to kill the boss, Nicolas Camonte and Primo had been named his successor. Of course, Primo was not powerful overnight. By the time his son Ricardo was learning the Family business, he was boss of the Bronx gambling and prostitution rackets. It was down to the ruthless, unmerciful Ricardo to consolidate the Crocetti Family’s power in the city and he did so with an iron fist. Some old women would claim that their streets were never safer than when ‘Ricky’ looked after them, but others knew different. Many young men were found dead in various creative ways through idiocy, a wrong move, a big mouth, or simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ricky’s reign lasted forty years. By this time his sons Antonio and Roberto were young adults, the Family’s interests had expanded to several of the largest casinos in Las Vegas and Reno, unions, prostitution, other forms of gambling, extortion and political power (Ricky was ‘personal friends’ with at least three senators, a Governor, judges in New York, Chicago, Miami, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Reno and Boston). He installed his eldest son Antonio in the Los Angeles office of their legitimate business- Cesca Olive Oil, named after Primo Crocetti’s sister. But of course, Antonio- or Anthony, as he called himself in order to appear more legitimate- was in truth in charge of the West Coast operations of the Family. When Ricky died, Anthony became the most powerful man in America- regardless of what the President thought.

Such power warrants attention, of course. Anthony himself had never even been arrested, thanks to his father’s advice and protection, but the FBI knew the family well. But as it always goes, they could never prove anything. The FBI knew that Anthony owned six of the hotels and casinos on the Strip in Las Vegas, they knewthat Anthony had interests in the narcotics business. Proving it was a different matter, and they had never managed to even piece together enough information to get a warrant to search his home.

Daniella’s death in 1982 had made the front pages of many newspapers, who wisely called her “Society Hostess” rather than “Mob Wife”. But what wasn’t reported was that Danny and Buffy were with her when her murderer struck. Nobody had ever discovered who exactly killed Daniella, but Danny swore it was his father. He would never quite forget the look on his mother’s face as she slipped from this world to the next. In fact, for the last nineteen years, it had been the source of every nightmare he’d ever had. He was now twenty four years old, but that moment, on his fifth birthday, had shaped his entire life.

There was only one small flaw in Danny’s reasoning. Anthony had loved Daniella, he really had. From the moment he had first seen her at her father’s house in Palermo, he had loved her. Daniella Vitelli had been a beautiful young girl of seventeen when he met her, all big dark eyes in golden olive skin, framed with thick blonde hair, unusual in Sicily and Southern Italy. He had been teased about it too- they said he had been hit by “The Thunderbolt”. He really had loved that girl. He too recalled the moment he found her. She was lying, her legs twisted, the thick carpet covered in her blood. He recalled the complete horror when he saw Danny sitting there, Buffy in his arms, looking at his mother. Then, with a heavy heart, he recalled the look of betrayal and hate on his son’s face as the five year old looked up at his father. Anthony had never truly admitted it to anyone, not even himself, but he knew that Danny blamed him for Daniella’s death.

Years- nineteen of them- had passed now, yet emotions were often still raw. Just six years ago, just after turning eighteen, Danny had tried to run away, taking the then thirteen year old Buffy with him. Anthony had of course caught up with him, thanks to his vast network of informants. He had restrained himself in order to keep Danny at home then, not wanting to lose his daughter. Buffy reminded him so much of Daniella that Anthony wanted to keep her at home as long as he could. Now of course, she was practically an adult herself. Danny was all grown up now, but lived in the family house even now. Anthony knew that it was so Danny could watch over Buffy, and it warmed his heart that Danny cared so much for his sister. Then, of course, his heart froze when he realised who Danny thought he was protecting her from.

Anthony and Daniella’s oldest son, Santino, was now 27. Tall and muscular, a charmer with the ladies, Sonny was in line to take over from his father some day. It was with a little horror and fear that Anthony realised that Sonny was so similar to his father Ricardo. Sonny had been a sweet little boy, constantly bringing children from school home with him, explaining that they were from poor homes, and couldn’t Daddy just give them something to eat? Anthony had always agreed. Since growing into the powerful young man he now was, Sonny had become angry, even violent on occasion. But every now and then Anthony would be told that Santino had donated large chunks of money to shelters and hospitals and other such worthy causes- and not just in the name of tax evasion or money laundering. But these occasional good deeds didn’t change the fact that Sonny was now a dangerous young man.

Everyone steered clear of Santino, especially when he was in a foul temper. Buffy had always been a little fearful of her eldest brother- she had seen him angry too many times. He always treated her like a princess, especially when she was a little girl. But now, she couldn’t shake her feelings of fear and a little distrust. She knew full well what her family’s business was, although she never questioned it. However, she knew that, while her father was born into it and often despaired of it, she knew that Sonny relished the business. While she knew in her heart that her father had never (personally, at least) killed a man, she knew Sonny to be capable of it. She was lucky that the Crocetti house and compound were large and she was able to avoid Sonny whenever she needed to.

Being the only daughter of Anthony Crocetti had its benefits of course. Around the compound, she was the Queen. Italians had always treated mothers and daughters as sacred (although more than one was guilty of beating his wife) and so it was for Buffy Crocetti. She wanted for absolutely nothing, except for perhaps a little more freedom. Since Danny had run away with her, she had always been watched very carefully, more so since a couple of kidnapping threats had arrived at the house with her name on them. She was chauffeured to school every day, even now that she was at UCLA. Her own personal bodyguard was William Liotta, but she had always called him Spike.

Spike Liotta was just 25 years old but had been in the employ of Anthony for ten years. When he was fourteen, Spike had embarked on a juvenile life of crime. When he was fifteen he was idiotic enough to swipe the hubcaps from Anthony’s car. Anthony had caught him red-handed. Instead of calling the police or being violent, Anthony had taught him how to swipe the caps without getting caught. Then, Anthony hired the boy. Since then, Spike was one of them, and was now almost a ‘Made Man’. For the last six years he had been Buffy’s almost constant bodyguard and had grown to love the girl like a sister.

Of course, Buffy often felt restricted by her father’s lifestyle. She lived in a gilded cage and was rarely allowed to fly free. Only during the day when she was at class at UCLA did she have any time of her own. She had managed to persuade her father to get Spike to drop her off in the morning and then pick her up at the end of the day. She envied her friends’ dorm lives free from their parents. Sometimes she and Danny were able to get away from it all, but never for more than a few hours. She adored her big brother Danny. He had always been her protector, the one to scare away the monsters who used to plague her nightmares, the one to pick her up when she fell out of trees, the one to fight for her. He was her knight in shining armour and she loved him. She adored her other brother Alessandro too. But Xander, as he was known, lived in New Orleans now as an artist and visited only every couple of months. In fact, Buffy imagined the man she fell in love with to be a version of Danny.

Not that she’d ever been in love. She’d had a boyfriend- once. Riley Finn had been a senior at high school when she was a sophomore. She invited him home for dinner one evening. It was a toss-up who scared Riley off first- Anthony, Sonny, Spike or Danny. Each had glared at him, asked him questions too tough to answer and generally acted like the mafia men the first three were. Buffy was sure that there wasn’t a man alive who could stand up against those three. Riley hadn’t even spoken to her the next day at school. She just hoped that the man she really fell in love with could handle her family. She didn’t know just how well, or just how soon she’d meet him.

The Crocetti compound in the hills above Los Angeles was so large that, if one so desired, you need not see another soul for some time. Unfortunately, whenever Buffy wanted to be alone, usually someone wanted to see her. She had grown accustomed to Spike watching her from a usually discreet distance, but often her brothers or her father would send someone looking for her and she would have to come running. The house itself was beautiful, designed like an old Roman palazzo, full of tall white columns and beautiful plants from exotic locales. It was well known to Buffy that her mother had designed the house, and it comforted her a little to know that her mother had such exquisite taste. Buffy’s own room overlooked the landscaped rose garden and had it’s own walk in closet and en-suite bathroom. She had her own phone line, but knew it, like every other line in the house, was likely tapped by the FBI. It wasn’t enough that she was kept in her gilded cage by her family, but she was tracked inside it by outside forces as well.

“Buffy? Can I come in?” Sonny’s voice came floating, quite gently, into her room, where Buffy herself lay reading a book.

“Sure.” She called back. Sonny came in. He smiled sweetly at her and she marvelled at how completely dangerous her brother could be. It was hard to believe when she saw him at his sweetest. Most people had reason to be fearful when Sonny Crocetti was nice to them- it meant he wanted something. But Buffy knew that, like her other brothers and her father, that Sonny would die before hurting her. Or, he’d kill anyone that tried to hurt her. She remembered that scene, not long after returning with Danny after their aborted escape attempt. Sonny had thrown Danny up against a wall for simply putting Buffy into the real world and into danger.

“Are you OK, Buff?” He asked, sitting beside her on the bed. He was so much bigger than her, at six feet and three inches, that she was dwarfed by her brother.

“Yeah.”

“Oh. We were just worried. You hardly come out of your room sometimes.”

“I’m just tired, Sonny.” She said, smiling. He looked so concerned for her.

“Oh. Do you want me to call the doctor? Maybe you have that Chronic Fatigue thing.”

“No, I’m OK.” She said. She looked at his slightly furrowed brow. “What’s the matter, Sonny?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.” She said firmly. He sighed.

“The Romanos...” He trailed off. Buffy fixed him with a stare.

“Tell me. I’m part of this family too.”

“Yeah. OK...” Sonny took a deep breath. “They’re demanding political protection from some of our friends. We don’t want to- we’re not stupid. But last time we refused them anything...”

“That was when they tried to snatch me?” She asked. Four years previously, when she was at a private school, the Romano crime family had attempted to abduct Buffy and use her as a bargaining tool. Only Spike’s intervention had foiled them. Now, Buffy was gripped with fear as she remembered rough hands gripping her neck, pressing at her mouth to stop her from screaming.

“Yeah. Pops is worried that you’re going to be a target again. So...”

“You came in here to ask that Spike stay with me all day when I’m at college?” Buffy said, a little annoyed. Sonny nodded.

“Yeah.” On her look, he continued. “We’re worried about you, Bella.” He said, referring to her nickname within the family. In Italian, bella means beautiful, and it had become the blonde girl’s nickname at an early age.

“I know. But I’m perfectly safe there.”

“Yeah? You were perfectly safe at St. Monica’s. But Luca Brasi still managed to get in there. The university is spread out and anyone can go in.” Sonny said, an edge in his voice that didn’t bode well.

“OK...” Buffy thought for a moment. “How about this? When you’re certain that they’re going to retaliate and you’re certain that they’ll strike at me, then I’ll take Spike along. Until then, he’ll drop me off in the morning and pick me up in the afternoon.” She suggested. “I know how to look after myself now. You made sure of that, Sonny.”

“I did.” He laughed at the memory of teaching the fifteen year old Buffy to fight.

“Besides,” She said with a smirk, pulling a knife with an ornate handle from her bag.

“I have this.”

“Fine. I’ll talk to Dad.” Sonny could never resist his little sister when she grinned so endearingly at her. And of course, he could still feel the force of her fist against his jaw from one of their lessons.

“Thank you Sonny.” She said sweetly. He grinned at her and hugged her tightly.

“We don’t want anything to happen to our bella Buffy.” He told her.

“I know.” Buffy said softly. Sonny stood up to his full height.

“Come down for dinner. You have to eat.”

“Yes, dad.” She said. Sonny laughed, then went out of the room.

Buffy sighed. There were always some kind of threat to her family, that was their business. But why did everyone have to bring her into it? She was a member of the Crocetti family, but she wasn’t involved with The Family, and everyone knew that. She remembered how, after the abduction attempt, her father had demanded a meeting with the Romanos. She remembered Sonny coming back and telling her how Anthony had been wild with rage at them, and how he had told them that, if they ever harmed his daughter again, they’d pay. Everyone knew Buffy was a civilian- it was what allowed her to be as free as she was. So Sonny’s new news disturbed her, not for her own sake, but for the sake of her family. If there was another attempt, there would be an all-out war between the families. They would go to the mattresses and Buffy would be forced into hiding. It wasn’t the first time, either. It was times like these that Buffy wished her family was just normal. She didn’t need all the riches that the family had, or the houses all over the globe, or the boats or the clothes or jewellery or anything the family had. She just wanted for her family to be normal, to not have to worry about her father or brothers being killed. To not have a bodyguard. As soon as she had that thought, there was a knock on the door.

“Yes?”

“Buff? Time for dinner.” It was Spike outside.

“I’m coming.” She said, throwing her book down and getting up from her bed. She smoothed down her clothes and opened the door. Bleached blonde Spike was standing there, waiting for her.

“You have to guard me on the way to dinner, now?” She joked lightly.

“No, silly girl. I just got the short straw of coming all this way to get you.” He joked back.

“You could just use the phone.” Buffy pointed out as they walked down the stairs.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” They walked into the grand dining room of the Crocetti house. At least eight people were sat around the table, all waiting for her. At the head of the table, of course, was Anthony. At the opposite end sat Sonny. Next to Sonny was his wife of six years, Genovetta. On his other side sat Anthony’s sister and Buffy’s aunt Constanza. Next to her sat Spike, who had been so close to the family for so long that he qualified for close family status. Buffy’s uncle Roberto sat opposite Spike, while Danny and Buffy had the places closest to Anthony.

“Uncle Giles, I didn’t know you were in town.” She said, settling down next to him.

“Yes. Just for tonight, then it’s back to Nevada.” Roberto watched over the family’s Las Vegas holdings. He had spent a lot of his younger life in England, and had gained the nickname Giles within the family after returning with many English peculiarities evident.

“Oh.” Buffy paused long enough for her father to proclaim dinner ready to eat, and then the usual Italian free for all began. Hands went everywhere, grabbing breadsticks, slices of meat and other anti-pasta dishes. None of the people at the table paused talking to eat, preferring instead to do both at the same time.

“Pops, have you decided what to tell the Romanos, yet?” Sonny asked. Anthony fixed him with a steely glare. Silence descended upon the table immediately.

“You know better than to talk about business at the table, Santino.”

“Sorry, but I know Buffy...”

“Not at the table.” Anthony repeated. Sonny looked down at the table. Even now, his father’s glare could make him feel three years old.

“Daddy...” Buffy began. “Don’t get mad.” Her soothing tone calmed her father a little.

“He knows what I think about...”

“It’s OK. Let’s just eat, OK?” She smiled so sweetly at her father that he caved in to her plea. He nodded and dinner resumed.

“Buffy, can I come in?” Her father’s voice called. She sighed. Was she ever going to get through this book?

“Yes.” She called through slightly gritted teeth.

“Is everything OK?” He asked, a little hurt by the tone of her voice.

“Yes. I was just reading, that’s all.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s OK.”

“I spoke to Sonny. And, I don’t like it... But you can carry on as you have been. I don’t think the Romanos will bother you again. They know you’re a civilian.” He told her.

“Thank you, daddy.” She said with a smile. She planted a kiss on his cheek. “You’re the best daddy ever!”

“You have to say that.” He said, but he smiled back at her.

Monday came, and so that morning, Spike dropped Buffy outside the building where she had her first class.

“See you at four, Spike.”

“On the dot, Buff.” He said from the driver’s seat of the Mercedes. Then, he sped away. Buffy slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way across the lawn to the Humanities building where her History class was. She went inside, glad to be out of the already fierce sun. She made her way down the hall, when suddenly something caught her eye. Was that man over there watching her? She turned suddenly to look, but saw nothing. Then down the hall, was he watching her? Her heart began to pound and she felt a cold sweat break out. The room began to sway. She was confused with herself. Was she having a panic attack? What was happening to her? She saw the female restroom and bolted into it just as a wave of nausea hit.

“Are you OK?” A calm, soothing voice called to Buffy. She was hunched over the toilet bowl, having emptied her entire breakfast, and quite possibly parts of last night’s dinner into it. She heard footsteps- female- come closer. Then, the cubicle door swung open.

“Are you OK? Do you need some help?” A girl asked. Buffy looked up, pale and shaking.

“Uh...”

“There’s no tissue in here. Hang on.” The girl disappeared into the next cubicle, and reappeared moments later with a bundle of toilet tissue. She handed it to Buffy.

“Here.” She smiled reassuringly at Buffy, who wiped her mouth. The girl then reached into her bag and handed her a bottle of water. Buffy paused for a moment.

“It’s OK, I’ll get another one.” She crouched down so she was at the same level as Buffy.

“I’m Faith. Are you in my History class?” Buffy nodded. She’d seen the pretty dark haired girl in class before.

“I’m... I’m Buffy.” She stammered slightly.

“Was it something you ate?”

“I don’t know. I was... Panic attack.” Buffy admitted. She hadn’t had one for quite some time, but here she was, on the floor of a bathroom once again.

“Oh. Do you need anything? Or do you want to call someone?”

“No. No.” Buffy hauled herself up onto her feet. “I’ll be fine now.” She drank thirstily from the bottle.

“Are you up to History? Because if not, I can always make notes for you.” Faith offered.

“No, I’ll be OK.” She paused. “But I’d like it if we could sit together.”

“Great!” Faith said cheerily. Buffy swayed slightly, still a little unsteady, still shaking. Faith took her arm gently.

“I’ll help you to class.” She said with a smile. Buffy smiled back, knowing she’d just made a friend.

Buffy and Faith went on to have lunch together. Buffy learned that Faith had a brother, a sister and an adopted brother. They lived together in a house in Hollywood, a legacy from their parents. She discovered that Faith’s elder sister Drusilla was actually in a couple of her English classes, and she recalled another dark girl in the classes who certainly bore a resemblance to Faith. Then, four o’clock came along and Buffy made her way out to where Spike was leaning against his car smoking a cigarette.

“Those are bad for you.” She said, grabbing it out of his mouth and stomping on it. Spike merely glared at her, knowing it was useless arguing with her. He opened the door for her, then got into the car himself before speeding off towards the Crocetti compound.

When they arrived back, the gates were surrounded by men she recognised as some of her father’s men.

“What’s going on, Spike?” She asked. He shrugged as if to say ‘I don’t know’. He rolled the window down.

“Joe, what’s going on?” He demanded of one of the men at the gates. Joe pointed with his gun.

“The boss said that Buffy has to go straight to his office.” He said. The gates were opened for Spike’s car, and shut immediately afterwards. Spike pulled up outside the main house and opened the door for his passenger. Buffy looked around curiously.

“What’s happening?” She asked.

“I don’t know, Buff. Doesn’t seem too good.” He told her. She looked around and saw a group of men some distance away, crowded around something. Danny was one of the men, she was sure. She broke away from Spike, running towards them.

“Buffy! You have to go to...” Spike trailed off- she was already too far away. She sprinted over to Danny. As he caught sight of his sister coming towards him, he looked horrified.

“No! Buffy! Don’t-” He was cut off by her arrival. She looked at the centre of everyone’s attention.

“Oh my God!” She said, before the sight knocked the breath from her body.

Santino, her violent, dangerous elder brother was on the ground. Her sweet, considerate, loyal brother was on the ground, entirely still. His suit was soaked with blood from the holes that covered his body. Someone had riddled her brother with bullets.

“Sonny,” She said, choking back a sob at the sight of her slain brother. He was truly a grotesque sight to behold. Whoever had done this had done a thorough job, not taking any chances on Santino’s survival. A boot mark on his face also hinted that his assassin had kicked him in the head for extra measure. Danny grabbed his sister and tried to drag her away.

“Sonny!” She screamed, trying to pull away from Danny.

“Buffy, come on. Buffy!” He said, himself trying to remain calm. Anthony appeared from the house.

“Buffy! Come inside. Now!” He shouted to her. Her father’s voice shocked her out of her hysteria.

“Now!” He repeated. Buffy fell limply into Danny’s arms and allowed him to lead her away from Sonny and towards the house.

“I told you to bring her straight to me.” Anthony said to Spike.

“I didn’t know what was going on.” Spike defended himself, but Anthony was no longer listening. A hearse pulled into the compound as Danny and Buffy went inside.

The funeral was held two days later. There was some police investigation, but largely they allowed mafiosi to kill each other, probably in the hope that they would self-destruct. Buffy was numb by now and at the funeral leaned heavily against Danny and Alessandro while Genovetta sobbed loudly. Anthony was distant at this time, clearly more shaken by the death of his son and heir apparent than he let on. Then, once the family had arrived back at the house, Buffy went straight to her room. She had barely had time to remove her coat when Danny burst in.

“I have to talk to you.” He said. She sighed. What was it now, she wondered?

“What?”

“I think we should go to the police.” He whispered.

“What?” She looked at him as if he’d gone crazy.

“I’m serious. If they got Sonny, then we’re in more danger than we realise. It was the same person who killed Mom.” He said.

“How do you know?”

“The bullets came from the same gun.”

“Are you insane? Sonny was... They used a machine gun...”

“No. Look, I don’t want to get graphic, but I heard them talking. They found that the bullet that killed him was from the same gun. They matched.”

“That was nineteen years ago.” Buffy pointed out.

“I know. But... I really think you’re in danger.”

“Sonny thought so too.” Buffy sobbed.

“Come on. I wouldn’t even think of going to the police unless I was certain.”

“You think it’s Daddy.” Buffy accused him hotly.

“No... I... I don’t know. I hope not.” Danny admitted.

“Why would he kill his own son?” Buffy asked him despondently.

“Why would he kill his own wife?” Danny shot back. Buffy collapsed onto the bed.

“This is our only chance, when everyone’s too busy drinking. Please Buffy...” Danny pleaded. She thought for a moment. If the police got involved, they could prove that it wasn’t her father, right? And if she was in danger, wasn’t her father even more so? She stood up.

“OK.”

Angel Martin got the call as he was about to go home. It had been a long day for the FBI agent, but when he was told that two of the Crocetti children had turned up at the headquarters of the LAPD, he couldn’t even consider going home. He rushed down there and was able to officially make it a federal case. Now, some hours later, a solution had presented itself.

“OK...” He began solemnly. Danielo and Nadezhda Crocetti were sitting in an interview room with him, waiting for him to bring a miracle to them.

“Nadezhda...” He began, hoping he’d pronounced it properly.

“Call me Buffy.”

“Buffy?” He was confused now.

“It’s my name. Long story.”

“Buffy.” He said, noting it in his book. “We think it would be best to have someone undercover with you. Not only to investigate from within the family, but also to guard you without ringing any alarm bells.

“And you propose to do this how?” Danny scoffed. Angel smiled tightly at the young man.

“We propose to have one of our agents pose as... Buffy’s boyfriend.” He turned directly to Buffy.

“Is this OK with you? If it isn’t, we’ll come up with something else.”

“Who?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who would it be? I'd like to know who my boyfriend is." Buffy said, smiling.

“Me, I’m afraid.” Angel smiled in spite of himself. Buffy looked at him closer now.

“You?” He nodded, looking embarrassed. He was awfully handsome- she had noticed from the moment she first saw him. And he seemed nice enough. More importantly, he wasn’t a hoodlum.

“OK.” She said quickly. She hadn’t meant to be quite so obvious. Angel gave her a tiny little half-smile which made her smile wider.

“Good. We’ll make arrangements now. I’ll need to know a little about you so we can build up an accurate sounding story.” Angel said.

“Well, I might suggest that the ‘my new boyfriend is a Fed’ story might go down like a lead balloon in my house.” Buffy joked. Angel chuckled softly. Danny glared at her, not really pleased with the plan. That was it? This agent was going to be her boyfriend? Did he really think it would work?

“Excuse me, Agent Martin.” Danny started.

“Yes?”

“Do you think my father is an idiot? Do you honestly think he won’t suspect anything?”

“No.” Buffy started. “He won’t. Not if we do it right. You were the one who suggested we come to the police, Danny.” She reminded him. He nodded a little sullenly, and the deal was made.

They stayed up for most of the night making arrangements. Angel was given all kinds of new identification- he was now Angel Martino, student of History at UCLA. He was from Steubenville, Ohio and had been dating Buffy for almost a month now. His family originated from near Naples, a detail Buffy had thrown in, knowing that her father was particularly fond of Naples. He would be coming for dinner tomorrow evening to meet her family and they would go from there. Buffy and Danny returned to the compound. The wake for Sonny was still going strong into the night, and nobody had even noticed their absence.

*****

“Daddy, this is Angel.” Buffy announced two evenings later. Anthony looked up from his paperwork, outwardly over the death of his son.

“Angel?” He asked.

“He’s uh... My boyfriend.” Buffy said with a smile. They were standing in his office, Angel doing his best to look like the nervous boyfriend. In reality, he was checking the room for potential bug locations.

“Hello, sir.” He said to Anthony, who merely glared suspiciously at Angel.

“How long have you been seeing my daughter?” He demanded.

“Uh, little over three weeks, sir.”

“I had invited him for dinner earlier, but after...” Buffy trailed off, unable to verbalise Sonny’s death. Anthony nodded with understanding at his daughter.

“You’ll be staying for dinner?” He asked Angel. Angel nodded.

“With your permission, sir.” Anthony just nodded again and turned back to his papers, a sign that the conversation was over.

Buffy gave Angel the grand tour of the house and the gardens.

“What are they?” He pointed to a cluster of smaller houses and buildings as they wandered through the grounds of the compound.

“That’s Sonny’s house....” She choked back a sob when she pointed to the largest of the houses. “Daddy gave it to him after he and Genovetta got married.”

“What about that one?”

“That’s Spike’s house.”

“Spike?”

“He’s my bodyguard.”

“What’s his surname?” Angel asked intending to do a full background check on every person she named.

“Liotta. William Liotta.” She clarified for him. “You’ll find a lot about Spike.” She added knowingly.

“What about Genovetta?” He asked.

“What about her?”

“Is she involved?” Buffy laughed loudly. Angel was confused. “What did I say?”

“You really don’t know anything about the Mafia, do you?”

“Yes.” Angel countered hotly, annoyed that his knowledge was being questioned.

“Yeah right. If you knew anything about them, you’d know that wives are always the last to know everything. Women aren’t Mafiosi, Angel. They get married, they have children, they raise children, they cook for their men, they get beaten by their men, they turn a blind eye to everything and that’s the way it’s been for a thousand years.” She told him.

“Has anyone beaten you?” He demanded, worry filling him. She laughed again.

“No, no. They only beat their wives. Daughters, sisters, they’re sacred beings to be protected.” She said, a little sarcasm creeping into her voice.

“Oh.”

“You really should watch The Godfather.” Buffy advised. “All three parts. Or read the book or something. You’re so concerned with the criminal aspects of it all, but that’s not all there is. This is a way of life, a society in itself. To understand their crime, you have to understand how they live, how they think.”

“Why do you talk about ‘them’? Aren’t you a part of it?”

“I don’t think so! I live here, but I’m a civilian. Everyone knows that.”

“Right.” Angel said, adding yet another fact to his increasingly long list.

“I don’t want to be a part of all this. I’m not going to marry some mafia hood and be like Genovetta. Did you know that she might end up going back to Italy?”

“She’s actually Italian?”

“Sicilian, like my mother. She met Sonny when he went on business to her father’s home. They fell in love, and he brought her back here. Just like my parents. But now he’s dead, the only thing keeping her here are her children.”

“How many children do they have?”

“Two. Daniella is five and Antonio is three.”

“Antonio and Daniella.”

“My parents’ names.” She reminded him. He nodded. She checked her watch.

“Time for dinner.” She told him, taking his hand and leading him back into the house.

“What are you studying, Angel?” Anthony asked over dinner. The family was sat around the table tucking into large, steaming bowls of, appropriately, Angel hair spaghetti.

“I’m an Art History major.”

“Really? What do you intend to do with Art History when you graduate?”

“Well, sir, I’m not really sure. I’d like to work at a gallery of some kind.”

“How interesting.” Anthony said in a patently false tone. “Where are you from in the world?”

“Steubenville, Ohio. But my family originally came from Naples.”

“Naples? I’ve always loved Naples.” Anthony said, genuinely interested in the conversation for the first time.

“Buffy tells me that your family is from Sicily.” Angel commented.

“Originally. A century ago, in fact. I always considered us to be from New York.” Anthony told him. For a long time, Anthony had played down their Sicilian roots to outsiders in an attempt to deflect any mafia accusations.

“Angel lived in New York for a time.” Buffy told her father. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

“How old are you?” He demanded.

“Uh, twenty seven, sir.”

“Isn’t that a little old for my nineteen year old daughter?”

“Daddy...” Buffy began.

“No sir. I think it’s down to Buffy what constitutes too old.” Angel said calmly. Anthony’s eyes flashed angrily, but he remained composed.

“Quite. We shall have to see.” Anthony said, smiling tightly at his guest.

“You have any family, Angel?”

“Yes sir. Two sisters and a brother.”

“Parents?”

“My father died some years ago. My mother lives in Steubenville.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear about your father.” Anthony said sincerely. Buffy looked at Angel. Was he making it up about his father, or was he really dead? The neutral look on Angel’s face didn’t give him away, and it struck her how well matched her father and Angel were. Neither gave an inch during the conversation, neither conceded and neither ever raised their voice. In many ways, she realised, Angel would have made an excellent Mafia Don. Certainly better than her hot-headed brother Sonny. At that slightly disloyal thought, she said a prayer for her brother’s soul.

“You did very well.” Buffy said to Angel as they sat outside after dinner. “Much better than the last one.”

“Last one?”

“The last boyfriend I brought home. I was a sophomore at the time. My father and brothers grilled him to within an inch of his life.” Then, she hurriedly added “Metaphorically speaking, of course.

“Of course.” Angel echoed. Buffy glared at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“What?”

“You think my family are animals! You think that they’re nothing more than killers! How dare you! You don’t know anything about my family.” She hissed, trying to keep her voice low.

“You’re right. I don’t.” Angel told her. “But that’s what I’m here for. I don’t know why you and your brother came to me, but I’m here to find the truth.” He remained calm, and this in turn had an effect on Buffy, who calmed a little.

“I’m sorry. But my father isn’t a killer. That’s why I came to you.”

“Why did Danielo come to me?”

“To prove the opposite.” She sighed sadly. “He thinks Daddy killed my mother.”

“Why does he think that?”

“Because of what she said just before she died. Danny was the only one with her. And me, but I was only a baby.”

“What did she say?” Angel asked. Buffy stood abruptly.

“The flowers smell beautiful, don’t they?” She said, firmly changing the subject.

“Yes.” Angel sighed, knowing he wouldn’t get anything out of her about it now.

“Why do they call you Buffy? That’s not your name.”

“Yes it is.” Buffy sat back down, satisfied with the subject change.

“Nadezhda. That’s your name. It says on every file we have. And more importantly, on your birth certificate.”

“Nadezhda Buffy Mariarosa Cesca Crocetti.” She reeled off her full name. “My first name is Russian, not Italian. It was the name of my mother’s most beloved friend, a girl in Sicily who had come from St. Petersburg. She died in childbirth in Sicily just before Danny was born. My mother promised herself that her first daughter would be named after her. But my father said it was a horrid name for a little girl. Buffy was the name of another friend, here in America. Mariarosa is the name of my godmother, Cesca is the name of my great-grandfather’s sister and the name given to our olive oil company. I became Buffy simply because my father wouldn’t call me Nadezhda. Therefore, nobody else did.” She smiled. “I told you it was a long story.”

“It’s just... Your name seems out of place here. Buffy isn’t a typical Italian name.”

“I know. But it’s still better than Nadezhda.” Buffy laughed.

“I should probably go.”

“Hmm. Probably.” Buffy said. “I’ll see you at UCLA tomorrow?”

“Yes. In the afternoon.” He told her. They got up and walked through the gardens towards his car.

“Bye.” Angel said softly. Buffy smiled.

“Goodnight.” She watched him drive away, the smile still on her face as she turned away to go inside.

“He didn’t kiss you goodnight?” Anthony asked. He was standing by the door.

“No. He probably thought that you’d kill him if he did.” She joked. Anthony glared.

“What does he think we are?”

“He thinks that we’re a family rich from a successful olive oil business, Daddy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. He doesn’t have a clue about the rest. And I don’t plan on telling him.”

“You like him a lot, don’t you?”

“What?”

“You have the same look I saw on your mother’s face when we got married.”

“Oh.” Buffy looked at the ground, her face flushed. Well, at least her father bought into the relationship.

“I like him.” Anthony commented as he led her inside the house. “He’s too old for you, but I like him.”

“You do?”

“He’s intelligent, level headed. I could use more people like him.”

“Don’t!” Buffy said suddenly.

“What?” Anthony looked confused. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t even think about it! He’s not one of us, don’t get him involved.”

“I wouldn’t even consider it. I was simply musing that I could do with more people with brains like his.”

“Oh.”

“You really are smitten, aren’t you, bella?” Anthony laughed before fixing her with a glare.

“You’ll be careful.”

“What! Of course! What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“A good girl.” Anthony said with a benevolent smile. “Night, bella.” He kissed her on the forehead before heading into his study. Then Buffy headed up the stairs to bed, deep in thought.

Angel was being followed, just as he expected to be. So he purposely stopped in a supermarket parking lot and went inside. His sister told him to get milk anyway. He managed to lose the shadow not long afterwards, but drove for a while longer just in case. While he drove he thought about the case. How could Buffy still love her father, knowing who he was and what he was, what he did? How could she mourn a brother who once beat another man to death with his bare hands? Perhaps more importantly, how could she defend them? Angel truly didn’t understand her. Her words echoed in his head.

“You think that they’re nothing more than killers!”

He did think that. He thought that the Crocetti crime family were killers. He paused in his thought. The Crocetti crime family. That’s how they were referred to. What if the family and the crime family were two entirely different things? After all, Buffy was clearly not a criminal, she was, as she put it, a civilian. How did one decide who was who? As he considered this, he saw the glowing yellow of a Blockbuster Video sign. He pulled into the parking lot and went inside. He came out moments later with The Godfather Trilogy. Then, he headed straight home.

“Angel! You’re so late, is everything OK?” His sister came rushing to the front door of their home as he came in.

“Everything is fine, Dru. Where’s Gunn? Faith?”

“Upstairs. What’s that?” She pointed to the pile of videos in his arms.

“Homework.” He said with a wry smile. Then he settled down to watch.

Dawn was breaking when the last frame of the last movie ended. Angel yawned heavily and rubbed his tired eyes. At least he didn’t need to meet Buffy until after lunch. He was fairly sure he understood more now. He was also more confused. How could he have felt bad when the eldest son was killed? And even feel sorry when the middle son was killed? How could he feel sympathy for the family? They were criminals and should be treated as such. The lines were becoming blurred and Angel hated that. He had always seen the world in shades of black or white, and the greys in between were now visible, leaving him perplexed.

“You still up?” Gunn said, coming downstairs.

“Yeah. Watching The Godfather.”

“Oh. Good movie.” Gunn sat down and picked up the video box.

“Do... Gunn, do you like the Corleones?”

“Not even. They’re killers. Just like the Mafia sons of bitches who killed my parents.”

“Yeah.” Angel nodded, remembering the circumstances of how Charles Gunn came to be adopted by his parents. Gunn had been six years old when his parents were approached by a group looking to take over their successful textile company. They refused and just a week later they were found by the Coastguard. Angel suddenly felt rather uncomfortable and a little guilty. He stood up abruptly.

“I’d better get some sleep.” He announced to no one in particular, and left Gunn standing there alone, wondering had gotten into him.

“Buffy!” She turned, expecting to see Angel. She instead saw the dark haired girl, Faith coming towards her.

“Hello Faith,” She called as the girl approached.

“How are you today?”

“I’m well. You?”

“Five by five.” Faith grinned and began asking questions about their 19th Century History class. Buffy answered, but found herself automatically searching the quad for Angel.

“Angel?” Buffy looked up. She hadn’t spoken, had she?

“Faith?” Angel’s voice came over, loud and clear. Buffy looked behind her to see Angel standing a foot away, looking confused.

“What are you doing here?” Faith demanded of Angel.

“I might ask the same question.”

“Do you two know each other?” Buffy asked. Faith looked at Buffy’s confused face and laughed.

“Angel is my brother. Do you know Angel?”

“Uh...” Buffy paused. What was she meant to say?

“We’ve been dating for three weeks.” Angel cut in smoothly.

“And you didn’t think to tell your little sister you’ve been seeing a college girl? Angel, I’m ashamed of you!” She said in a mock-angry tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” Angel said, sitting beside Buffy. Something seemed to occur to Faith as she thought about it, and she suddenly stood up.

“I have to go now. Angel, can I speak to you? Now.” She said, moving out of Buffy’s earshot.

“Do you know who she is, Angel?” Faith hissed. Angel laughed.

“Of course I know.”

“So you know she’s Buffy Crocetti? You know, the Crocettis, the family you work day and night to put behind bars?”

“Yes, I know that.”

“What the Hell is going on, then?”

“I can’t tell you that. I have the situation under control.” Faith glared, unbelieving. “I’ll try to explain later, OK? You have to trust me.” Angel said, his dark eyes boring into her.

“Fine. But you’d better explain when you get home.” Faith told him. He nodded.

“I have to meet Dru. I’ll see you later.” She said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and stalking away.

“Is everything OK?” Buffy asked him when he sat back down.

“She knows who you are.”

“Oh.”

“She wanted to know if I knew what I was doing.”

“Will you tell her about, you know, the case?”

“I might have to. At least that way she’ll know to keep quiet.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Do you have class now?” He asked.

“No. I don’t have anything for the rest of the day.”

“Right. In that case, I think a history lesson is in order.”

“History? I’ve just been in History!” Buffy said.

“No, this time you’re the teacher. I’d like to learn the history of the Crocetti family.”

“Fine.” Buffy sighed. “You look tired. Are you getting enough sleep?”

“I watched the Godfather Trilogy last night.”

“Oh. You really shouldn’t do it all in one go.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Angel said wryly, stifling a yawn. “Now, where do we begin?”

Some time later, they were still sat at the table and Buffy had begun to tell him about her childhood.

“It says in our file that you and Danny ran away.” Buffy grimaced.

“Yeah. I was thirteen, Danny was eighteen.”

“Why did you run away?”

“Because Danny persuaded me to.”

“Why?”

“He said I was in danger and that he would look after me. We got as far as... New Mexico before Daddy’s men caught up with us. They brought us back and we got in a Hell of a lot of trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“We were grounded for, like, ever.” Buffy said. “Danny had to promise that he’d never do it again, and Daddy made Spike my bodyguard.”

“Spike. Do you trust him?”

“Sure.” Buffy said seriously. “He’s protected me for six years. He’s been with the family even longer. He even saved me from being snatched.”

“Snatched?”

“When I was at private school, another family tried to kidnap me to use me as some sort of bargaining tool. Spike stopped them. That was scary.”

“That’s the only time you’ve been involved in, uh, family business?”

“Yeah. Daddy made it clear that anyone who tried to involve me would lose their kneecaps. Or something.” Buffy laughed. Angel didn’t laugh.

“You do realise that I’m going to have to investigate everyone?” He asked. She looked down at the floor and nodded.

“I’m going to have to ask you a lot of questions that you won’t want to answer. But I need you to tell the truth.”

“I know.” She said quietly. “I wouldn’t have come with Danny if I wasn’t prepared to do this.” She looked up at him.

“What?”

“You have to keep me safe once everything takes off. The mafia have never looked kindly on informers, whether they inform another family or the police.”

Angel nodded and took her hand. He looked directly into her eyes.

“Do you trust me?” He asked. She looked into his dark eyes and saw something. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it comforted her. Yes, she trusted him.

“I do.” She nodded.

“I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” Angel said solemnly, not tearing his gaze away from hers.

“Oi!” Spike’s voice cut in. Buffy looked up abruptly. Spike was leaning against his car waiting. She sighed with relief. He was too far away to have heard her.

“Hello Spike.” She called back. She then turned back to Angel.

“Hey, Angel, how would you like to come to my house?” She said as if asking anyone on a date.

“I’d love to, Buffy.” He smiled back. They stood up, and for Spike’s benefit they walked over hand in hand before Angel followed them in his car to the Crocetti compound.

Buffy and Angel once again took advantage of the good weather to walk in the gardens of the Crocetti compound.

“Do you like your life?” Angel asked.

“I guess. Better than living on the streets or something.”

“True.”

“My great-grandfather only got into the business because he wasn’t able to support his family any other way in New York. In Italy they sold olive oil legitimately. They weren’t rich, but they were honest.” She said, and Angel could hear the defensive tone in her voice.

“I understand.” Off her look, he continued. “I do, really.”

“Yeah, how?”

“My family came from Ireland. They were forced to leave Galway during the potato famine.” Buffy looked lost.

“During the 1840s, there was a famine in Ireland when the potato crop failed. Thousands left Ireland for Britain or America. My family went to Britain first. They couldn’t find any work there, so they came to America, to New York. It was hard.”

“I’ll bet.”

“My father did some historical research during his youth. He discovered that the family was living in Five Points at one time.”

“Oh. That’s the slum, right?”

“Yeah. They ended up going to Boston, then someone in the family set up some sort of jewellery import company between Boston and Galway City. Eventually, by the time my father was born, the family was well off. Not rich, but well off.”

“Hmm. I guess if Primo had just traded olive oil, we would be the same. But in Little Italy at the turn of the century, one couldn’t just trade. You had to get permission from whoever was in power at the time. My great-grandfather chose to be master of his own destiny.” The defensive note was back in her voice.

“I don’t blame you, I don’t even blame him. But the fact is, the world isn’t like that. The way your father does business is obsolete.”

“How would you know how my father does business?” She shot back, angry now.

“It’s my job.” Angel said quietly, several conflicting emotions flowing inside him. He stood up.

“I should go now.” He said, still keeping his voice quiet. He stood up and began to walk away, irrational sadness filling him. Why should he be so distressed at her anger? He shut his eyes for a moment and prayed fervently that he wasn’t falling in love with the girl whose duty it was to protect. The girl whose father it was his duty to one day arrest.

The thing which confused Angel most was Buffy’s defence of her father’s business. Surely she understood that their way of life wasn’t the norm? Surely she realised that not every wife was beaten, not every husband was killed? Surely she understood that this wasn’t the Italian way of life any more than it was the American? He had done so much research into it all now that his head was beginning to burst. His research had been completely exhausting. So far he had limited himself to facts, FBI files crammed only with bare statistics of convictions, murders and robberies. What the files did not show, however, were the reasons why. Now he had looked into history and found the origins of the Mafia. Instead of discovering a deeply entrenched system of law enforcement that had been in place for a thousand years, as Buffy believed, he had discovered that the Mafia had existed only since the 19th Century when the people of Sicily had needed protection from the rich landowners and pezzonovante of their island. Quickly of course, the people who began the Mafia had become just as rich and just as corrupt as the men they were meant to protect the Sicilian people from. Now there were hundreds dead from vendettas and the law of omerta- silence. Whatever the Americans who lay claim to the legacy of the Mafia imagined it was, they were incorrect.

Angel realised that Buffy had no idea, that it wasn’t the birthright of her family to beat their wives or kill business rivals. The Crocetti family gave Italians a bad name just as the current incarnation of the IRA gave Irish people a bad name. Genovetta had no reason to have allowed Sonny to beat her- it was not ‘the way it was’. It wasn’t Italians who had strange ways of looking at the world, it was this one community of villains. Angel realised that, however well dressed Antonio Crocetti was in his silk suits and fedoras, however charming he might be, he was still a villain. He might not do the killing himself, but he was still a murderer. Again Angel draw parallels with the Irish: Only a tiny minority of them shot each other, planted Semtex in rubbish bins and buses, yet the IRA were to many, the personification of the Irish. He understood now how Buffy had come to be as she was: torn between loyalty to her family and rejecting them out right. He suspected that Buffy questioned her family’s way, but only privately. It was hard to reject the teachings of childhood even if it seemed the right thing to do. Angel hoped that, by coming to him, she had begun the probably painful process of leaving her family behind.

A month almost to the day after Sonny was murdered, Anthony called Buffy into his office. Fear that he’d discovered Angel’s true identity made her heart pound as she entered the plushly furnished inner sanctum of America’s most powerful man.

“Daddy?”

“Bella, sit down.” He said in a somewhat serious tone.

“Is everything OK?” She asked, heart still pounding.

“Yes, I just wanted to talk to you.”

“OK.” She said, anticipating whatever he had to say. But instead, he paused.

“Do you remember how you used to bring your toys in here and play? No matter who I had in here, you refused to leave. I even had the Gottis in here and still you didn’t go. You were never scared of the men in suits who came to see me.”

“I knew that you’d protect me.” Buffy told him in that simplistic way that a child has of trusting their parent implicitly. Anthony smiled.

“Bella.” He sighed. “I won’t always be here to protect you.”

“I know that.”

“I hope Angel can.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you seem rather serious. He’s here almost every evening now. I just hope that he can protect you. Buffy, no matter how much you distance yourself from the family, you will always be a Crocetti. And I’m worried that one day you will unprotected and someone will get to you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m thinking... That Angel might be a good man to have in the family.” Anthony said.

“Are you insane?”

“What? To ask an intelligent young man if he wants a good job?”

“Not just a good job! A job working for you! Angel.... Angel is a good guy!”

“Aren’t I a good guy?” Anthony asked, although he dreaded the answer.

“Daddy.... You’re the best. But I haven’t ever wanted a part of your business. What makes you think I’d let you take the one guy I care about so you can groom him into your successor?”

“What?”

“That’s the reason, isn’t it? You wouldn’t drag him into the whole sordid business just to run a numbers racket in Redondo Beach, would you?” Anthony hung his head.

“No. No I wouldn’t.”

“You want to make my boyfriend into Sonny.”

“No I do not!” Anthony said, raising his voice ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t want to unleash another Santino on the world.”

“Daddy. Don’t do this.”

“Won’t you at least let me talk to him?” Anthony asked her. She sighed.

“Fine.” She jumped up from her chair and left without another word.

“It’s a good idea Buffy.” Angel said the very next day. She had told him all about her father’s plan.

“What?”

“This way I can get in and find out who killed your mother. And who killed your brother.”

“Yeah right. You just want to get evidence so you can throw my father in San Quentin for the rest of his life.” Buffy almost growled at him.

“No. Buffy...”

“Don’t lie, Angel. You took this case to get my father.”

“At first. Then I realised that there’s more at stake. More to lose.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“You, silly.” He said with a laugh, bringing her closer to him. He planted a feather light kiss on her forehead. Unbeknownst to him, Buffy’s heart skipped a couple of beats at that one.

“Fine.”

“You’re all right with this?”

“No. But I’ll tell him you’re interested anyway.” Buffy sighed unhappily.

“Thank you.” Angel fixed her firmly in his gaze. “I don’t want to throw your father in San Quentin. Really, I don’t. I’m here to solve the murders of your mother and brother.”

“You do know that if they find you out, they’ll kill you, right?”

“They won’t find out.” Angel said winningly. “They might be good at cover ups and making people disappear and appear. But we’re better at it.”

“If you’re careful.”

“I promise.”

And so, the very next day, Buffy took Angel to Anthony’s office. With real dread in her heart, which she couldn’t quite identify, she allowed them to speak alone. What followed amazed Angel. Even he, an FBI agent assigned to the Crocetti case for nearly two years, had no idea how far the crime empire stretched, or just how much there was.

“My daughter cares for you a great deal, Angel.” Anthony said after finishing the virtual tour of the organisation.

“Yes, sir. I care...”

“Don’t bother, I know. My point is that you will be careful.” Anthony said. “You will take all kinds of precautions because if you get yourself killed, my daughter will be sad. And I make it the policy of this family not to make my daughter sad. Understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Dinner tonight?”

“Well, yes sir.”

“Good. My son Alessandro is home from New Orleans again.”

“I look forward to meeting him.”

“Good. You can find Buffy now.” Anthony smiled warmly at Angel, who then went off to find her.

She was in her mother’s rose garden again when Angel found her.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” She said flatly. “Enjoying the criminal side of life?”

“Not so far. But I’ve been invited to meet your brother Alessandro over dinner.”

“Good. Xander’s a good guy.” She said.

“Xander?” He asked. “You people have too many names.”

“Well, if you were at school and people made fun of your long Italian name, you’d find a nickname, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, I don’t know. Angel’s so masculine I never had a problem.” He said dryly. She laughed at that one.

“True.”

“I’m sorry the twist this has taken. But if I’m involved, I don’t have to find excuses to be here.”

“Oh, I’m an excuse?” She said hotly.

“I didn’t mean that. I meant being here snooping around.”

“Fine. I get it. I mean, I am just an excuse. I just... Forgot.”

“Well...” Angel sighed. “So did I.”

“What?”

“I forgot this was just meant to be all show. I...” He trailed off. He fished around in his pocket. He pulled out a small box.

“I got you something.”

“What?”

“Open it.” He instructed. She did so. Inside was a sparkling gold Claddagh ring.

“It’s....” She had no words.

“It’s a Claddagh ring. It originated in Galway and was one of the first things my great-grandfather sold in his shop. It’s one of the family’s biggest sellers here.” He said proudly.

“It’s beautiful.”

“The crown represents loyalty. The hands represent friendship.” He paused nervously.

“And the heart?”

“The heart represents love.” He said, looking down at the ground, feeling all the world like a schoolboy. He found it hard to pinpoint exactly when he’d fallen in love with the girl he was meant to protect. Perhaps it was the moment when he ceased protecting her because it was his job, but because he wanted to keep her safe.

“Thank you.” She managed to say. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when she’d fallen in love with the man who would probably arrest her father one day. Perhaps it was the moment in which she hoped he was protecting her not because it was his job, but because he wanted to.

“You’re welcome.” He said. Then, deciding he really should seize the moment, he leaned in and kissed her.

******

Angel returned home later that evening after dinner with the Crocettis to find both Drusilla and Faith waiting for him.

“Uh, hi?” He asked.

“Sit down.” Faith said. Confused, he complied with her request.

“We want to know what’s going on. We know about you and the Crocetti girl.” Drusilla said.

“The Crocetti girl?” Angel repeated.

“Sure.” He sighed. He wanted to tell them, but could he really breach protocol? He took a deep breath. Family came first. The Crocettis were teaching him that.

“Fine. This doesn’t leave this room, understand?” Angel said. They nodded.

“It’s my job. I’m undercover. I’m posing as her boyfriend to infiltrate the organisation.”

“How the Hell did she let you? Is she up on drug charges?” Faith asked.

“No. Buffy and her brother came to us for protection after the death of her eldest brother. You can’t tell anyone. I mean anyone. If I’m discovered...”

“They’ll kill you.” Faith finished for him. He nodded.

“Are you insane?” Drusilla asked. Angel looked at her.

“It’s my job.”

“Yeah. It’s not like you’re actually in love with her.” Faith said. Angel managed to keep his expression neutral, and said,

“Well, exactly.” Inside, his heart was screaming, knowing it to be a lie. He was in love with her. He had spent a month almost constantly by her side and had given her his most precious gift. One day he would tell her where the ring came from.

“Hi,” Buffy said softly. Angel jumped slightly. “Way to go, Stealth Boy.”

“I didn’t hear you sneak up on me.” He said. They stood awkwardly for a moment, wondering what to do. Then Angel kissed her and all awkwardness was eradicated.

“Where’s Spike?” Angel asked her with concern.

“New rules from Daddy. You can protect me.” She grinned.

“I can?”

“Sure. You’re one of the family now.” She said, and Angel didn’t miss the bitter note in that phrase.

“Buffy, it isn’t real.”

“I know. But...”

“What?”

“I’m scared.”

“Why?”

“I’m scared that you’ll get in too deep. I mean, heir to Anthony Crocetti’s throne is a better paid job than the one you have at the moment. Power, money, they’re pretty corrupting.”

“I’m incorruptible.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Buffy said.

“Buffy... I mean it. I’m there to do my job. To protect you and to find out who killed your brother.”

“OK. Promise me.”

“Promise you what?”

“That when you find out, you’ll leave it all behind. Forever.”

“I promise.” Angel smiled and kissed her again.

The days passed somewhat quietly, although Angel found himself spending less and less time at home and more and more time at the Crocetti compound. Buffy had been right: The family was a seductive animal. When he met people, they showed him respect, even deference. But it was getting difficult to refuse money. He couldn’t accept money from Anthony in any manner, not until he had proof enough to convict the man. But Anthony was a generous man and kept trying to give him gifts. He had no idea how to turn him down again, and if it came to trial, and it would, these gifts would seem to be bribes. Angel did not take bribes. Eventually Buffy herself came up with a solution. Angel would OK it with his boss at the FBI to receive gifts and a salary, all of which would be carefully documented and sealed away in the FBI’s vaults as proof. Yet still Angel didn’t sleep easy. He still lived in fear of being found out. Then one day, on his way home, he was positive he was being followed. A thought hit him- what if they got to his family?

“I’m moving out.” Angel said. Three mouths, two female, one male, hit the floor.

“What?” Faith demanded.

“Come again?” Gunn said, as if he’d been struck by temporary deafness.

“I’m moving out.”

“Where to?” Drusilla asked him.

“Near the Compound.”

“Are you insane?” Faith screeched.

“No. I was almost followed home this evening. I can’t risk them discovering you all. They’d get to you first.” Angel sighed. “I don’t want to. But the sooner I discover who killed Daniella and Santino Crocetti, the sooner I can leave.”

“Fine. Go get yourself killed.” Faith said with a sneer.

“Faith...” Dru said comfortingly. “We’re just worried about you, Angel. You spend all your time there as it is. If you live in the compound, how will you get out to give the Feds information?”

“I said near the compound, not inside it.”

“But if they know where you live, won’t the Mafia put in taps or bugs or something?”

“They don’t suspect me.” Angel said.

“Don’t be so sure, man. They suspect everyone.” Gunn said in bitter tones.

“No. They don’t suspect the loving, devoted, loyal boyfriend of Buffy Crocetti.” Angel told them.

“Oh, Buffy can do no wrong?” Faith said sarcastically. Angel nodded.

“In their eyes, that’s exactly right.”

“Except maybe go to the FBI?” Faith asked. Angel opened his mouth, but had no answer.

“A toast!” Anthony said at dinner. “A toast to our new neighbour!”

“To Angel!” Buffy echoed. The entire family was sat around the table, including Xander on one of his visits home. Since Sonny’s death, the visits had become more frequent.

“To the Buffster!” He now toasted. “For choosing a good boyfriend at last!” They all laughed and both Angel and Buffy blushed slightly.

“Thank you,” Angel said modestly. “For bringing me into your family.” They all murmured approval, except for Buffy, who looked at him with worry. He sounded sincere. That worried her. She didn’t want him to get caught up in her father’s tangled web of intrigue, lies and murder. She didn’t want him to die too.

Time passed rather quickly for the family and their new paisan, Angel. The family was busy with the olive oil business and its other concerns. Buffy and Angel, meanwhile, spent most of their days at UCLA and their evenings either at the cinema or some such other typical date locations. And all the while, Angel was pretending to be a part of the family business and having to look for clues as to who could possibly have killed Daniella and Santino.

He was almost 99% sure that it wasn’t Anthony. Anthony had, in fact, too much to lose. For one thing, Angel realised that Anthony had loved Daniella. That much was clear from the reverential but sad tone he spoke in when talking of his wife. It was more plausible that Anthony would consider killing Sonny, even if he was the boy’s father. Sonny had been a loose cannon- a dangerous young man who was prone to fits of extreme anger which had, on at least one occasion ended in death. Angel knew that Santino had been arrested once, for the killing of another student at the prep school he was at. There was no evidence, however, and Santino was off the hook. Angel rather suspected that Anthony had allowed him to be arrested to give Sonny a shock. But, at the same time, Anthony had much to lose from Sonny’s death, besides the obvious grief and pain. Santino had always been groomed as Anthony’s successor, and now it was not as clear cut. Angel knew that he himself was in line, Xander being more interested in art and New Orleans, and Danny’s absolute refusal to follow in his father’s footsteps. No, Anthony had too much to lose from the deaths of his wife and eldest child to have it ordered himself. It was somebody else. The problem was, Angel had no idea who.

“Angel! Where have you been?” Buffy said mournfully. She and Angel were once again sitting in the garden as the sun set.

“Busy.” He sighed. “Your father really knows how to make a person earn his wages.”

“He didn’t...” She trailed off not wanting to ask if her father wanted him to murder someone.

“No.” Angel understood what she was saying. “So far everything I’ve done is legitimate. But I have been finding out an awful lot about the illegal stuff.”

“And who killed my mother?” Buffy said, an edge in her voice.

“Buffy...”

“Don’t Buffy me! You promised!” She jumped up, but Angel pulled her back down again.

“I’m looking. I really am. But you should know better than to expect it to be written down anywhere. I have to make friends with everyone and then weasel it out of them in a subtle manner.” He smiled so charmingly she relented.

“Fine.” She sighed once again. “Now, what else was there?”

“No idea.” Angel lips curved up slyly. Buffy grinned, planting a kiss on his lips.

“That was it.” He remembered now, leaning in to kiss her more.

“Angel...” Buffy sighed. He pulled away.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I just...” She looked at him coyly, suggestively.

“Not on your life!” He exclaimed. She looked taken aback and rather hurt. Then he laughed.

“What! Come on, what’s so funny Angel?” She demanded. He stopped laughing and saw how hurt she was.

“Oh Buffy baby, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well,” She asked haughtily. “How did you mean it?”

“I meant that your father is usually here too. And I don’t think he’d appreciate me defiling his daughter. And we have only been dating a few months. And you’re...”

“How do you know that?”

“You told me Buffy. You said and I quote ‘Nobody ever loved me before. Not like that.’ That’s what you said.”

“Oh. Well. Yeah. But...”

“Buffy...” He paused briefly to take her hand in his. “I love you. More than I ever thought possible. But, like your father says, I am older than you, and I don’t want to rush you into anything. I’ll wait until you’re ready. Because I wouldn’t want it to be anything but perfect. All right?”

“Fine. I personally think that...” Buffy began, but was cut off by his mouth upon hers. “I’m ready?” She said breathlessly. Angel smiled.

“Maybe soon. But not when your father’s even in the same zip code. I've gotten really fond of my kneecaps over the years.” He joked. She smiled slyly.

“He’s not here. He’s in New York.”

“No he isn’t. He got back an hour ago.”

“What? He got back and didn’t even deign to say hello to me? Well...”

“Sit down.” Angel said calmly. “He had to go straight into another meeting. He said he’d see you at dinner.”

“You see him more often than I do.” Buffy pouted.

“Sorry.” Angel’s lips curved up into that curious half-smile. “Anyway, more importantly, what do you want for your birthday?” Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

“My birthday! My birthday is next week. Interesting.” Buffy grinned. She liked the direction that the conversation had taken.

“What might Miss Buffy want for her birthday.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Let me think about it, maybe check the latest Tiffany catalogue...” She joked. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Spike poked his head out of the window.

“Oi, Buff! Dinner time!” He called to them. “Come on. Dinner time.” She said, taking Angel’s hand and leading him inside.

“Did you have a nice time in New York, daddy?” Buffy asked sweetly as she passed pasta around to everyone seated at the table.

“A quick time.” Anthony said, yawning. He had only left Los Angeles that morning, and had returned that evening.

“I have to go back next week.” He said. Buffy slammed the bowl down.

“Daddy!” She said sharply.

“I know, Bella. I know. I’m going back on Monday. I’m hoping I’ll be back in time for your birthday on Wednesday. I’m sorry.” Anthony told her sincerely.

“Fine.” Buffy said, not wanting to appear the spoiled child. But inside she was hurt. Her father had never missed her birthday. Not ever before. And this would be her twentieth birthday. Perhaps not as big a deal as her 21st, but still...

“How are classes going?” Anthony asked her.

“OK.”

“Buffy...” He began, sighing.

“It’s OK, really. And my classes are just OK. Life is fairly non descript at the moment.” She paused. “And I like it like that.”

“All right.” Anthony decided to let it lie.

On Monday morning, Anthony said his farewells, leaving behind a small present for Buffy.

“Daddy bought me a car! Daddy bought me a car!” Buffy bounced around the compound. Finally, her father had caved in to her pleas for a car of her own. And the daughter of Antonio Crocetti was to travel in style, so Buffy Crocetti’s first car was a Jaguar X-Type. The baby Jag everyone wanted.

“Isn’t it pretty?” She cooed over the car. Angel and Spike watched, amused grins on both faces.

“Oh, by the way...” Spike began. Buffy turned.

“Yeah?” She said, distracted by the leather interiors.

“You can’t drive it.”

“WHAT?”

“Angel will drive you.”

“Let me get this straight...” Buffy said, the genetics she shared with Santino flaring into anger.

“I have my very own car, a thing of extreme beauty... And I can’t drive it?”

“No.” Angel said.

“Why, pray tell?”

“Because we’ve seen you drive.” Spike said dryly. Buffy’s face fell.

“Oh. I only scratched that car.” Her dismissive tone was disregarded by Spike.

“A scratch does not cost $3000.” Spike told her. “Danny’s car needed a new side panel after Buffy’s little trip to the mall. ” He told Angel, who tried in vain not to laugh.

“Buffy...”

“No, I don’t want to hear it.” She said stubbornly.

“Buffy,” He said in a velvety voice in her ear so that Spike couldn’t hear. “I’ll teach you to drive.”

“I already know how to drive.”

“OK, I’ll teach you how to drive better.” Angel said. “It’ll be fun.”

“Fine.” She relented. She knew how bad a driver she was. She just didn’t like the idea that Angel knew too.

“How is the new boy, Antonio?” Roberto ‘Giles’ Crocetti asked. He was sitting in the most luxurious suite on offer at The Flamingo Hotel. It was one of the original big five casinos on The Strip in Las Vegas and had been built by Bugsy Siegel himself. Now, it was practically a Vegas Historical Monument. But more importantly, it was own (albeit indirectly) by the Crocetti family. Giles was in charge of all of the family’s casino interests in both Las Vegas and Reno. This meant that he spent most of his time away from the family itself in Los Angeles. In many ways he liked the independence, but it was also frustrating to rarely see his family. He was especially fond of Buffy, his only niece, and the person who had coined his Giles nickname.

“He’s fine, Roberto, fine. He’s coming along nicely.” Anthony’s voice crackled slightly, indicating to Giles that his brother was on a cell phone somewhere.

“Where are you, Antonio?”

“New York. Business with some Arabs.”

“Oh. Good.”

“How are the casinos?”

“Good. The Flamingo’s profits are up 35% since you persuaded Frankie to play in the theatre.”

“Very good. I have to go Roberto. Come to LA soon, we all miss you. And Buffy's birthday is on Wednesday.” Anthony said. Giles smiled.

“I'll see what I can do. Ciao!" He said before hearing the click of Anthony hanging up.

“Happy Birthday Buffy!” They all called. Xander had come back from New Orleans with a girl called Anya, Danny had a blonde chick on his arm, and most of the family had turned out for her birthday. In fact, with the exception of Sonny, everyone was there. Except her father, still in New York.

“He promised.” Buffy said. She and Angel were now sitting alone in the garden as they always did before he headed off to his own home.

“No, he said he’d try.” Angel reminded her. “And he also told you he’d be bringing back more presents.”

“I don’t care! I don’t care if he brings back a hundred blue boxes, I just wanted him to be here.” She said a little despondently. Angel sympathised. Her father was the only parent she had now, and for him not to be here... He planted a kiss on her lips softly. She sighed.

“You know... Daddy isn’t here. Not even in the same time zone.” She said suggestively. Angel smiled at her.

“Are you sure?” He asked seriously. She looked at him, searching his face for a moment.

“Yes.” She smiled. “Yes I am.” She kissed him softly before taking his hand and pulling him into the house. Yes, she was ready.

The figure trod carefully. The house had a good security system and it was imperative that the system was not tripped. The figure wound the wire expertly. Explosives were a tricky business, but a specialty for the figure in black. The detonator was set right by the front door. The figure pressed the buttons and then ran off into the night.

Angel lay with Buffy, entirely contented. He looked down at her now slumbering form and marvelled at her beauty, which seemed to envelop her now. Asleep, she looked so very delicate, like a china doll. Once again, he felt an overwhelming urge to protect her. Protect her. How could he do that now he loved her? How could he have allowed himself to fall in love with the girl he was meant to be protecting? He had probably put her life in more jeopardy. And yet... He loved her with his entire being. He would die for this girl. He would protect her now even better. Not just with his head, but with his heart. She sighed a little in her sleep and snuggled even closer to him, burrowing her head into his shoulder.

BLAM!

Angel shot up out of the bed as the explosion caused the room to shake. He could see the fireball rise up into the night sky.

“What?” Buffy sat up. She looked in horror- the fire visible even from her position in bed.

“An explosion.” Angel said. She grinned at him and he was suddenly very aware of his naked state. He went back over and pulled on his boxer shorts.

“Where?” She asked. Angel paused. He hadn’t even thought of that. But he knew that it was close. He went back to the window. It seemed such a familiar view.

“Angel!” Buffy screamed as, wrapped in the sheet, she joined him by the window. “That’s your house!” She said, beginning to panic.

“Well, I know I didn’t leave the gas on.” He said dryly, maintaining a cool exterior for her sake. He threw on the rest of his clothes as he heard the Compound wake up on full alert.

“How are we supposed to explain this one?” He asked, suddenly very aware of what they had done.

“Uh...” Buffy blushed. “I don’t know?” She finished.

“I fell asleep on the floor.” Angel said. “But naked Buffy might make that less credible.”

“OK.”

“Not that she’s not dazzling.” He added. Then he kicked himself. Not the time, Angel, he thought. Really not the time.

As she slid back into her clothes of that evening, she looked at him in unbridled panic.

“Did they find out?” She asked.

“I hope not.” Angel told her honestly.

“No. It can’t be. They wouldn’t do it like this.” She said. She was now dressed and grabbed his hand, dragging him downstairs and outside. The fire department had already arrived outside Angel’s home and were battling to get the fire under control. Angel was suddenly glad he hadn’t moved much of his stuff out of the Martin house. Had he done so, it would all be destroyed now.

“Who did this?” Danny asked, emerging from the Compound.

“I don’t know.” Angel told him.

“How did you get out?”

“I didn’t.” Angel said. “I wasn’t in there.” Danny looked confused.

“Where were you?” He asked. Then he narrowed his eyes as he looked at Angel, then at Buffy.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Danielo.” Buffy said. “He slept on the floor. It was so late that he just slept in my room.” She lied easily. She didn’t really want to see the Angel-Danny fight any time soon.

“But it’s nice to know that you’d protect my honour if the need were to arise.” She smiled sweetly, innocently at Danny. Xander, who was currently standing behind his brother, had an amused smile on his face which told Buffy that he’d heard all of it, and believed none of it. She just glared at him.

“Your secret is safe little one.” He whispered in her ear.

“Back to more important issues,” Angel said, eager to change subjects. “Why did my house just explode?”

“We found traces of the explosive semtex by the front door.” The Chief Fire Marshal explained to Angel and Anthony- back from New York on the first available plane.

“Someone did a very good job of destroying that house and everything in it.” He continued. Angel’s heart sank. Any chance it was an accident was thrown out of the window.

“Are there any leads?” Anthony asked calmly.

“All we, and the police department have been able to ascertain so far was that the job was done by someone who knew what they were doing. And they wanted to do it right.”

“Thank you, officer.”

“You’re welcome sir.” The fire marshal was then shown out by Spike.

“You can stay on the compound, Angel. It’s safest. Someone was out to get you. Or get to us through you. I won’t let them.” Anthony smiled with only a hint of humour.

“Any ideas?”

“The Romanos come straight to mind. But this isn’t their style.” Anthony mused. “Far too messy for Vito’s tastes.”

“Is there anyone else?”

“Not that I know of. I worked a long time to make sure we didn’t have enemies. One way or another.” Angel looked at Anthony with curiosity. Never had Anthony ever expressed any regrets for his actions before. Not to Angel, anyway.

“I’ll open up Roberto’s old house for you.” Anthony told him, the moment over.

“Giles doesn’t use it anymore?”

“He’s never here enough. He stays in the main house when he visits. Like for Buffy’s birthday.”

“Oh. Well, I need to see if there’s anything to salvage. Though I doubt it.” Angel told him, moving to the door.

“Angel?” Anthony said. Angel held his breath and turned round. This was it.

“I don’t doubt your feelings for Buffy and I don’t doubt that the night of her birthday was conducted with all propriety. In fact, I’m glad you ended up on the floor of her room than in a small pile of ash. But I don’t want you sleeping over in my daughter’s room again.” Anthony paused to glare meaningfully. “Understand?”

“Of course. It won’t happen again.” Angel nodded and left, thankful that Anthony didn’t really think anything had happened.

Anthony turned once again to the picture of his wife on the desk. He forced the rage he felt inside him to dissolve to nothingness. He knew exactly why Angel had been in Buffy’s room, and he didn’t need to have been in the house to know. Nobody had said anything to him, he didn’t think that anyone else suspected Buffy and Angel. But he knew. He had seen something different in Buffy’s eyes when he returned home from New York. He knew it, because thirty years ago he had been the same. He remembered, looking into her eyes, although only a photo version, how much he had loved Daniella then, as he did now. Yes, he had been hit by The Thunderbolt. The same Thunderbolt he knew had hit Angel. Anthony too, had been older than Daniella, although not by the same margin. Anthony too, had risked the wrath of his betrothed’s father. He remembered how, the morning after, he had made up an excuse to go into the city of Palermo so he didn’t have to face Alessandro Vitelli. He was sure that the truth of the night before was writ large on his face. He was sure that somehow, he would give the game away. Perhaps if he and Daniella hadn’t married three days later, he would have done. Now he wondered if the long-dead Alessandro had ever suspected him. No, no. If he had, Anthony would have been chased out of town straight away. Although he felt paternal anger now, he realised that Angel loved Buffy as much as he loved Daniella. He would allow Angel the belief that his secret was safe, for now. It was only fair.

“I think your father knows.” Angel told Buffy later.

“Knows what?”

“That we... You know.”

“Oh.” Buffy blushed a very deep shade of crimson. “And he didn’t kill you?”

“No. It was weird. He made some comment about me never sleeping in your room again and left it at that.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know.”

“Buffy, I saw the look he gave me.” Angel smiled at her. “I think he knows. But we can’t do it again. Not for awhile.”

“Damn.” She said with a giggle. Then she turned to him. “Of course, we could always get married.” Angel looked at her in surprise. She laughed.

“Why do boys always run a mile at the M word?”

“No, it isn’t that.”

“What is it then?”

“Well, that ring.”

“What ring?”

“The one on your hand right now?” She looked down at the Claddagh on her finger.

“Do you know the story?”

“Sort of. Irish, right?”

“Yeah. The story goes that a Galway man, Richard Joyce was captured, taken into slavery and sold to a Moorish goldsmith. He became a master craftsman while in captivity. William of Orange then got the slaves back and Joyce returned to Galway to the woman he loved.”

“She waited for him?” Buffy asked.

“Yes. And he gave her the first Claddagh ring as a sign of love and devotion.” Angel paused. Dare he tell her the rest.

“The Claddagh ring became a wedding ring. If you wear it on the left hand with the heart pointing towards you, it means you’re bound in love with the other person forever.”

“Oh.” Buffy looked down in silence at her left hand, and the heart, which pointed directly at her. She then looked at Angel’s hand. The same.

“We’re married?” She asked, her eyes growing wide.

“No.” Angel laughed. “Not really. Maybe if we were Irish and a hundred years older.”

“But it would be one Hell of an excuse for my dad, huh?” She said with a wicked grin.

“Nowadays, Claddagh rings are used as friendship rings.” He paused again. “Or betrothal rings.” He looked directly into Buffy’s hazel eyes.

“Betrothal rings, huh?” She said, not breaking their gaze. “Is this a proposal? Because it’s not bad.”

“Good.” He kissed her. “Marry me Buffy.”

“When all this is over, I will. Not before.” She said. He nodded, understanding. They couldn’t get married until the situation was resolved.

“Well, that’s one of the best incentives I’ve had for getting my job done in a long time.” He laughed.

Angel, Buffy, Xander and Danny spent the best part of the day sifting through the ruins of Angel’s house in search of anything worth saving. Unfortunately, the bomb had done its job thoroughly. Anything not vaporised by the bomb had been ruined by the fire fighter’s hoses.

“Just as well you didn’t have too much stuff, huh Angel?” Buffy said as she picked up the copy of Vogue she’d left there. Gisele’s face on the cover was completely burned away and it was a testament to the binding of the magazine that it hadn’t fallen apart under the stress of fire and water.

“Yeah. I’m glad I left all my stuff in Ohio.” He said, keeping up the charade. It was true that Buffy and Danny knew about his real life, but Xander didn’t, and who knew if there were bugs in the house that hadn’t been destroyed? He’d been careful since moving into the house about only contacting his family from call boxes on the UCLA campus during the day, or arranging meetings with them on campus under the pretense that they were simply Buffy’s classmates. He missed them all, truth be told. But he had a job to do, and he needed them to be safe.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Buffy’s voice called to him in his reverie.

“Not worth a penny.” He said. She grinned. He sighed. “There’s nothing here.”

“Afraid not, pal.” Xander said, patting him on the back. “And I hate to say it, if you’d been here that night, you’d be in the same state as, well, anything in here.”

“I know. I know.” Angel said solemnly. He refused to look at Buffy. How could he? Here he was, assigned to protect her and instead he nearly gets killed himself. Still, he was no closer to finding the killer. He could only hope that whoever had done this had been sloppy and left him some clues.

*******

“Anthony called?” Angel arrived at the main house the next morning. Spike nodded. Angel went straight into Anthony’s office.

“Angel, you’re here.” Anthony observed. “I spoke to Vito Romano. They didn’t do it.”

“You know this how? He just said so?”

“Yes.” Anthony said coolly. “Vito is a man of his word when it comes to such things. When they tried to kidnap Buffy...” He paused only briefly to grimace, “He owned up immediately. I told you that the bombing wasn’t his style.”

“So that leaves us with... Nothing.” Angel sighed. Anthony leaned back in his chair.

“Be patient, Angel. Act in haste, repent at leisure.” He said, leaning even further back.

“Sure. And thanks for letting me stay on the compound. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. You’re family.” Anthony smiled. Angel was suddenly chilled through to the bone. He left the room, still shaken by Anthony’s smile. It had been devoid of threat, yet had been incredibly menacing. Did Anthony suspect anything of him? Or perhaps it was just a warning that, although Angel was his right hand man, he was still the boss.

“Angel, are you getting any closer to finding any, oh say, evidence?” His boss at the FBI, a middleaged man by the name of Hudson, asked him rather testily. However, Angel was not in the best of moods. He had been summonsed to the FBI headquarters in Los Angeles by a phone call from a young lady. If Anthony had his phone tapped, he wouldn’t suspect Angel of being a Fed, but he would suspect him of cheating on Buffy. He wasn’t sure which would be received worse. Added to this that a half hour journey had been made into an hour and a half by the ridiculous measures he’d taken to ensure he wasn’t being followed into the HQ, he was not a happy bunny.

“No sir. I’ve explained to you time and again, they won’t just hand over evidence of a century of crime just because I asked nicely.”

“What about the explosion?”

“We have no idea?”

“You have no idea or the Crocettis have no idea?” Hudson asked. Angel kicked himself. That was a slip up he could ill-afford.

“I mean that I’m working with them to discover who did it. I believe that whoever did it may be involved in the murders of Daniella and Santino Crocetti. The case I was assigned to, I believe.” Angel said, a hint of sarcasm audible. Hudson sighed. It was true: Angel was assigned to discover who killed the two Crocettis, not deliver Anthony Crocetti to the FBI. Unless of course, it was Anthony who killed them.

“Well then, have you found anything about the possible murderer?”

“Well, sir. Nothing concrete. The Crocettis are even more close-mouthed about Daniella’s death than business. But I’m trying. First I have to win their trust.”

“Well, you seem to have done that.” Hudson threw down a copy of an unidentified newspaper. The headline of the small piece said “CROCETTI NAMES SUCCESSOR”. Angel picked it up. It was a simple business piece from the Wall Street Journal. According to the piece, Anthony had named Angel Martino his successor to the business interests of Cesca Olive Oil and Holdings.

“Care to explain?” Hudson asked calmly.

“I have no idea what this article is about.” Angel told him.

“Really? Care to explain what you’ve been doing for months on this case?”

“I knew that Anthony wanted to groom me as his successor. But...”

“You knew?”

“Yes sir. It was my entry into the family.”

“I thought the girl was your entry.”

“No sir.” Angel felt anger rise up as his superior brought Buffy into it. “She was merely my entry onto the compound. I couldn’t find anything out just as her boyfriend. I had to actively join the family. As, sir, you know. I believe you’ve been receiving my salary and anything I receive from the family.” Hudson nodded. Angel continued.

“You know that we’ve been following the family for decades. I’m the closest we’ve ever got to them. I hope that we’ll have an ending to this case very soon.” Angel stood up.

“I really do need to go.”

“Family business?” Hudson asked.

“Yes sir. It is Anthony Crocetti’s birthday next week. It’s a very big deal. Members of the family and syndicate will be arriving from all over the country. I’m hoping that I’ll find some kind of leads as to the killer of Daniella and Santino. Or at least a drunk partygoer with a loosened tongue. Good night, sir.” Angel walked out of the room.

“Daddy!” Buffy exclaimed. “Will you please calm down.”

“I will not calm down.” He said sternly. “I will not have you running off to Las Vegas on a whim either.”

“Daddy...” She whined. “I only want to take Angel away from this bomb business. I think it’s really taken its toll.” She said. “And he needs to learn the casino business if he’s to be a part of the family.” She attempted to keep the bitterness and anger out of her voice for the last part.

“No. You have studying to do. Remember Buffy, how you’re a student at UCLA?”

“It would only be two days. We would go out and then return with uncle Giles in time for your birthday. We would stay at at our hotel and everything. I’ll even take Spike for protection.”

“No. Out of the question.” Anthony said. He was prepared to accept that his daughter was no longer a virgin. He was not about to let her swan off to Vegas with her boyfriend.

“Daddy...”

“No.” He sighed. “You can go the day before in order to get Roberto.” He said, relenting a little. “I’ll book your flights now.”

“Thank you daddy.” She skipped around his desk and planted a kiss on his cheek. Then, she skipped out of the room.

The day before Anthony’s birthday, Angel and Buffy boarded the plane to Las Vegas. Angel was distinctly uncomfortable about it, knowing that Anthony knew about Buffy and himself. Anthony had purposely booked two separate rooms, and Angel didn’t intend to let him down. He also knew that everyone in the hotel-casino worked for Anthony, and he had no intention of letting any kind of gossip get back to Anthony. So, perhaps predictably, after informing Buffy of the situation, she was now not talking to him.

“Buffy... Come on... Please understand my position.”

“You’re my fiance.”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m not your husband yet. You know your father better than I do. He’s a Catholic and he’s your father.”

“I bet your dad didn’t mind.”

“Actually, I can still remember the day he found out that Drusilla had sex with her boyfriend at the time.”

“Was he mad?”

“Put it this way, we never saw that boyfriend again. I don’t think I ever saw him as mad as he was that day. Fathers don’t like to know that their little girls are all grown up. And Catholic ones like ours are even worse. Think about it, what father would like to know his little girl isn’t just grown up but committing a sin?”

“I guess.”

“Which is why we are going to behave with complete propriety.” He said. “Because I imagine your uncle would feel much the same as your father.”

“I guess.” Buffy sighed. “Tell me about your parents, Angel.”

“What?” Angel was confused. Buffy had asked all about his sisters and about Gunn, but never about them.

“Tell me about them?”

“Joe and Louise? Well, they were more in love than I’ve seen anyone. I could never understand the other kids at school when their parents got divorced, because all I saw were two people who loved each other. What I told your father that night about my parents is more or less true. My father died five years ago.” He paused. “It shattered my mother. She didn’t know what to do. Although we lived in Los Angeles, she was from New York, so she moved back to her old neighbourhood. I went with her until she was settled. That’s when I lived in New York. It was there I began working for the FBI.”

“But you came back here.”

“Right. I got tired of Manhattan. I came back here and immediately got assigned to the organised crime unit.”

“What happened then?”

“My mother died last year. We all went to visit her for Christmas and her birthday. She died sitting in her chair watching Bob Hope on the television.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK. I think we were all waiting for it. Once my father died, we knew her heart was broken. I like to think she waited until she made sure Faith got into college.” He laughed slightly.

“I would’ve liked to have met her. And your father.” Buffy said. He smiled.

“Oh, they would’ve loved you. They were on at me from my twentieth birthday to find a good Catholic girl to settle down with.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think they would’ve preferred an Irish girl, but hey, nobody’s perfect.” He joked. She pouted.

“Except you.” He added.

“So, who runs the jewellery business now?”

“Oh, that was always my uncle’s concern. Uncle Ciarain loves his work. My father always wanted to come out to Los Angeles. He did so when he was a young man. But Uncle Ciarain loves Boston. He’s so Irish-American it’s not funny. He even has the red hair and everything. He looks like Conan O’Brien’s much older brother. It’s good for business. People love to buy authentic celtic jewellery from a man who looks the part.” He went to speak again, but the announcement that the plane was beginning it’s descent interrupted him.

“Well, I guess we must nearly be there.” He said with a little half-smile. Buffy smiled, feeling as if she understood the oftentimes enigmatic Angel a little better.

“Buffy!” Roberto ‘Giles’ Crocetti embraced his niece warmly as she stepped from the taxi.

“Uncle Giles! It’s good to see you. Why don’t you come home more often?” She pouted.

“I’m busy with my work here. A hotel manager’s work is never done.” He said in a joking tone. “Good to see you again, Angel.” He said, shaking the younger man’s hand. He led them inside the hotel and showed them to their rooms. They were separated by another room. Angel observed that the room in-between was, in fact occupied. Angel also observed other things that evening. Throughout dinner with Giles, he had a distinctly uneasy feeling. Giles seemed to be his usual polite, charming self, but Angel had a feeling he couldn’t shake. Were they being watched? He was just glad that the next morning they would be back in the relative safety of the the compound in Los Angeles. It was Anthony’s birthday: cause for celebration, he was sure.

“Buffy! You’re back!” Danny was standing on a stepladder in the hall of the main house, attempting to put up decorations for his father’s birthday.

“What are you doing?” She asked suspiciously.

“Putting up decorations?” Danny said, confused by her line of questioning.

“Yes. I can see that. Why?”

“Because it’s our father’s birthday party tonight?” He said, still bemused.

“Yes, I also know that. What I don’t know is why you’re putting up decorations for someone you’ve told me over and over you can’t stand.” She said. Danny got off the ladder and looked at Buffy.

“I can’t hate him forever. And frankly,” He lowered his voice “Since Angel’s been here and hasn’t found anything, I’ve been doubting myself.”

“Aha!” She crowed triumphantly. “I told you! How did you think it could be him?”

“Because of what mama said.” He said darkly. Then, as if he changed his mind back again, he left the decorations hanging when he walked away.

“Is everything OK?” Angel asked, coming in and finding Buffy holding half-attached decorations.

“I... I think so.” She said. She went up the ladder and continued where Danny had left off.

Anthony managed to keep Angel busy for the rest of the day with various things. Then, two hours before the surprise party was to begin, Anthony turned to Angel.

“How are the preparations for my surprise party coming?”

“What?”

“Oh come on Angel. I haven’t reached this high up in life by not paying attention. Don’t worry, I’ll act surprised.”

“Well, it’s coming along great. Buffy and Danny were decorating earlier.”

“Danny...” Anthony sighed. “Do you suppose that boy will ever believe that I didn’t kill his mother?”

“I...”

“It’s OK. I’m just musing. I always wondered why he stayed here, you know. He does hate me. He only stayed for Buffy, I think. He does hate me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t.”

“No, he does. I know him. I remember the day she died, that look on his face. Whatever it was she said to him, it made Danny think I killed her. As if I could bring myself to even raise my voice to her.” Anthony slumped into his chair. Angel went and poured him a glass of Marsala.

“Thank you. I’m losing my touch. Ten years, Hell even five years ago this was nothing. I’m becoming sloppy. Do you know what happens to men like me when that happens? We get killed. Because so many people have been watching me and waiting for the day that I don’t pay attention.” He sighed. Then he looked directly into Angel’s eyes. “I don’t care what you think of me but I know you love my daughter. Whatever happens, and I mean, whatever happens you must look after Buffy. She should never have been born into this.” He looked so pleadingly at Angel, so vulnerable in fact, that Angel could only nod in shock. Anthony had just told him, however indirectly, that he knew he would be killed soon. More shocking too, that he didn’t really mind.

“Why do you think...?” Angel trailed off.

“Because they killed Daniella, they killed my boy. I don’t know who it is, but I just wish they would show themselves. Just as long as they don’t go after Buffy or Danny or Alessandro. I don’t think I could stand to lose another child. We all have weaknesses, Angel. Mine are my children. Daniella’s children.” In that second, Angel realised that no matter what Anthony was guilty of, he was not guilty of killing his wife or his son. Which meant that somebody else was.

The party began at 7:30, and every nerve in Angel’s body was on the alert for anyone suspicious. However, it being that sort of party, most of the people were of the suspicious sort. He watched as several incredibly important men, all wanted by the Feds, snuck into the party and paid their respects to Don Antonio. Anthony seemed composed now in comparison to his earlier admissions. Angel smiled as he saw Giles come in and nod a greeting to him.

“Uncle Giles!” He heard Buffy squeal happily. Although Giles had arrived in LA with them earlier, he had been absent from the Compound for most of the day.

“Buffy, where is your father?” He asked.

“Welcoming guests and presents.” She told him. “Lots of people came.”

“Well, he’s a very important man.” Giles reminded her. Then, he turned to Angel.

“How are you, Angel?”

“Fine, sir.”

“I read that piece in the LA Times.” Giles said conversationally.

“Oh, there’s nothing to that. I don’t know where they get their information from.” Angel smiled, unnerved for reasons indescribable. He looked around the large room, wondering what was doing it.

“He’s in his office?” Giles asked, his attention back on Buffy.

“Yeah.”

“Uncle Giles, good to see you!” Danny came over and shook his uncle’s hand warmly.

“Danielo, how are you?”

“I’m fine. How is Las Vegas?”

“Oh, the same as always, gamblers, cheaters, the worst elements of society all done up in neon.” Giles said in a droll tone that he could only have picked up from his years in England. He saw someone come out of Anthony’s office.

“I must speak with Antonio.” He said and rushed into his brother’s office.

“Is there something wrong?” Danny asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, he just seems... Off.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Buffy said defensively. “But you think everyone is off. Including Daddy.” She said, annoyance clear in her voice. Angel opened his mouth to speak when suddenly a shot rang out, silencing the party. Buffy and Angel shared shocked looks.

“Daddy!” She screamed, running to the office door.

“Buffy, wait!” Angel said, running after her. Danny was in hot pursuit, while most of the guests made hasty exits, not wanting to be caught up in anything.

Buffy threw the door open and what she saw broke her heart. Her father was slumped back in his fine leather chair, while Roberto, her beloved Uncle Giles stood by the window, a smoking gun in his right hand.

“What? Daddy!” She said, screaming. Giles held the gun up again, this time pointing towards the young blonde.

“Don’t even think about it!” Angel said, his own gun aimed directly at Giles’ head. Giles laughed maniacally.

“Like I care!” He shouted. “You should kill me! It would be better than being passed over every time! I was tossed away to Las Vegas! God Almighty, Antonio picked a stranger over his own brother! I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE BOSS!” He shouted, waving the gun around.

“What?” Buffy asked, completely confused as to why her uncle would shoot her father. She dared not move over to her father, knowing if she did, Giles would shoot.

“I should have been all-powerful! Instead I was passed over time and time again! First Father chose Anthony instead of me, then Anthony chose Santino, that evil little bastard!” He shook violently. Buffy sighed, realising in that moment who had killed her brother. Which meant...

“You killed my mother?” She asked in a heartbreakingly sad, betrayed voice.

“That bitch? She should’ve kept her nose out of my affairs!”

“She knew. She knew how much you hated my father. How much you hated us.” Danny said. “It was you she was talking about.” He realised.

The Crocetti Family Compound, Los Angeles, 1982.

Danny wandered into his mother’s room, his tiny sister Buffy in his arms. He was terrified that he was going to drop the infant, but she was crying so much and Mommy hadn’t come to quiet her yet. Daddy wasn’t home, Sonny was at school and Xander was somewhere in the garden. So Danny had scooped his sister into his arms, holding her the way Mommy had shown him. But he’d only ever held her and found carrying her a little more difficult.

“Mommy?” He called, wondering where she was. Mommy never just let Buffy cry.

“Danny?” Her weak voice called to him. He turned around the corner of her large armoire and saw Mommy lying on the floor, lots of red sticky stuff on the carpet. He recognised it as the same stuff that came out of his knee when he fell from Sonny’s bike one time.

“Mommy? Did you fall off Sonny’s bike?”

“No, Danny.” She said with great difficulty. It was clear even to this young boy that his mother was in great pain.

“Mommy? What’s the matter?”

“I’ve been hurt. Listen to me, baby... I know you think you know him, that you all love him, but he’s a bad man.” She paused to breathe. “He’s a very bad man. You must never let him hurt you. Or Buffy. You must protect Buffy.” Her pain overwhelmed her and she was making little sense.

“Who is he?” Danny asked, confused.

“You love him, Danny, but you mustn’t. I love you baby.” She said, managing a smile for Danielo.

“Mommy? Buffy’s crying.”

“She is? Oh... Don’t cry, Buffy. Mommy loves you.” Daniella managed, before the pain finally took over, and her eyes closed for the final time. Danny, realising something very bad had happened, sat down beside her, Buffy squirming a little. This was how Anthony found them just twenty minutes later.

“It wasn’t him at all!” Danny’s voice rose. “It was you!” His eyes flashed with fury as he realised that twenty years of pain and hate had been directed towards the wrong person.

“Angel’s house?” Buffy accused. “That was you?”

“Yes.” Roberto actually smiled. Buffy snarled at him and went to lunge at him.

“Buffy!” Angel cried out.

A shot rang out again and was almost immediately replaced by eerie silence. Angel forced himself to open his eyes. Had Roberto shot Buffy? He looked, but Buffy still stood, angry. Roberto was now collapsed on the floor, a bloody smear on the cabinet behind him, roughly the same height as his head had been. Angel looked around to see a shattered looking Danny holding up what he recognised as Anthony’s gun. It had been sitting on the desk until several moments ago.

“Buffy?” A weak voice called. She ran over to her father, who had come to weak consciousness.

“Daddy? Are you hurt? Angel, call an ambulance!” She said.

“No point, bella.” Anthony said.

“No! Daddy!” She screamed.

“It’s OK bella. I’ll be fine. There will be friends waiting for me in Hell.”

“You’re not going to Hell, daddy. Don’t say that.”

“Pray for my soul, Buffy.” He said.

“Dad?” Another voice joined in. Danny was at his father’s side, truly, for the first time in twenty years.

“Danielo?”

“I’m sorry Dad. I’m sorry.” He said, fighting back tears.

“I know Danny.”

“I didn’t really hate you. I didn’t.”

“I know Danny. You’re everything I hoped you would become.” Anthony smiled weakly, so similar to the smile on Daniella’s lips before she died.

“Dad! No!” Danny said forcefully. “How are we going to live on without you?”

“Angel will look after you. He’s a good guy. For a Fed.” Anthony said.

“You knew?” Buffy asked.

“I did.”

“Why didn’t you do anything?”

“I wanted to find out who killed my wife. Who killed my son.”

“I didn’t help much.” Angel said.

“Oh you did. You put my family back together. And you love my daughter.” He smiled. “You’re a good man, Angel Martin. You should’ve known I’d have bought jewellery from your family once or twice.” Even now, he was able to smile wryly.

“You did?”

“I bought a Claddagh. For Daniella. A long time ago. It was all so long ago.” He said. He was clearly much weaker now, his life-force almost visibly draining from him.

“Daddy,” Buffy whimpered, unable to let her father go.

“I love you Buffy.”

“I love you Daddy.” She said it with great difficulty, her lip trembled so much.

“Dad...” Danny repeated.

“It’s all right, Danielo, I know.” Anthony said. “I know.” Then, the fallen don closed his eyes for the final time. Buffy collapsed onto the floor, grasping her father’s hand, sobbing uncontrollably. For his part, Danny sank onto the floor, leaning against his father’s desk. For a moment he was still, unmoving. Then it became too much and the pain of twenty years washed over him. His body shook twice before he allowed himself to cry.

Spike and Xander had been outside smoking sneakily when they noticed most of their father’s guests leaving hurriedly.

“What the Hell?” Spike ground his cigarette into the ground with his bootheel before fighting against the tide of people leaving the house. The sound of sirens was heard in the distance. Xander began to panic. He knew of the numerous threats against his family. They ran through the house and arrived outside Anthony’s office as Anthony took his last breath.

“What happened?” Spike asked, taking control of the situation. He noticed the two dead bodies and his well-trained mafia brain began working.

“We need to get them out of here.”

“No. It’s OK. The police are on their way.” Angel told him.

“The police?” Spike said, clearly panicked by the concept.

“It’s all right, Spike.” Danny piped up from his prone position on the floor. Spike was shocked.

“What happened to dad?” Xander visibly choked up.

“It was uncle Giles. It was him. It was him.” Buffy repeated like a mantra. Xander’s face crumpled up in shock and sadness. Then, as he realised that his father was dead, truly gone, he too dissolved into tears. For his children, Anthony's moment of weakness came too soon.

The bodies were taken away, whilst the FBI began searching through the house.

“Good job, Martin.” His FBI boss Hudson barked at him.

“I quit.” Angel said. Hudson turned around in surprise.

“What?”

“I quit.” Angel smiled politely and then headed back over to where Buffy was sat by her mother’s rose garden.

“What will happen to us?”

“You haven’t done anything wrong. Nor has Danny or Xander. You’ll all be fine. Even Spike.” Angel laughed harshly, not really feeling terribly comic.

“I don’t want to stay here. Not anymore. It was only home when Daddy was here.”

“Whatever you want.”

“I’d like to live in Ireland.” She mused. "Far away from this."

“Ireland huh? I could live with that.”

“What about your job?”

“Oh, I just quit.” He said calmly. She looked at him strangely.

“You what?”

“Yeah. I thought I might go into the jewellery business.”

“Oh.”

“And there was this other thing. See, I promised this girl I’d marry her.”

“That’s true.” Buffy managed a smile.

“If you want, we can leave. We’ll leave it all behind.”

“I think I’d like that.” She said.

The funeral was performed with all the pomp and splendour such a powerful man demanded. The Romanos came along, suddenly very friendly with the Crocettis now that Angel had dismantled the business side of the family. The Crocetti cosa nostra was no more. Anthony Crocetti was buried with his wife Daniella Vitelli Crocetti, beside his son Santino. Anthony’s parents lay nearby. Roberto Crocetti was not buried with his family. After the Crocettis refused to collect the body for burial, a friend in Las Vegas arranged for the body to be cremated, and his ashes scattered across the Nevada desert, where so many other bodies were rumoured to be buried.

Angel and Buffy Martin married two months after Anthony’s death. They married in Los Angeles, with Danny, Xander, Spike, Faith, Dru and Gunn all present. Then, the family scattered. The Martins remained in Los Angeles, Danny went to New York to run the newly-legitimate Cesca Olive Oil, including a new product, an olive based margarine bearing his mother’s name. Xander moved to New Orleans permanently, became an artist full time and married a plain talking jazz baby called Anya. Spike remained working for the family, but in a legitimate manner- he became Danny’s man on the West Coast. Then he shocked the Hell out of everyone by marrying Dru Martin. It turned out that he hadn’t been idle all those hours waiting for Buffy at UCLA.

Angel and Buffy did indeed move to Ireland, Galway City to be exact. She took several specimens of her mother's roses and soon enough in the gardens of the Martin family house there bloomed some of the most beautiful roses known to Galway. He handled his family’s jewellery business from there, and he and Buffy became two of the town’s most beloved citizens through their charity work (one of the ways they attempted to dispose of the Crocetti millions). Their sons Anthony and Joseph were born before then being followed by a daughter Daniella. And on the whole, they lived happily ever after. Finally, after generations of violence and pain, peace came to the Crocetti Family.

Send feedback to Apollonia

Back to the Fanfiction Archive