by Indie

Future fic, starts in May 2025. Angel's in Sunnydale teaching history. Buffy runs a gallery. They aren't speaking - at first. Sort of dark, sort of fluffy. It's AU. Splits off after BTVS "The Body" and A:TS "Epiphany". Assume that Sanctuary/Yoko Factor cross over didn't happen and that "Something Blue" happened a month after "Pangs".

It's not beta'd kiddies, so please fogive the typos, I'm sure there are plenty.
DISCLAIMER: Joss, the WB and Fox own everything, I own nothing

"Son?" Angel asked, his voice cracking. He quickly coughed to clear his throat as Buffy watched him with a small smile playing on her lips. She loved to watch him squirm. She knew it was rather cruel to just spring this info on him, but in his own words "life's too short." 

"Yes," she said evenly, "my son." 

"I, uh, didn't know you had any children," he said lamely. 

"I am aware of that," she responded with deliberate slowness. 

"So ... ," he foundered, "is Nick an only child?" 

"No," Buffy said, shaking her head, "there's Billy, Tommy, Kate, Andrew, and don't forget the twins." 

Angel looked at her like her head had exploded. It was so cute. 

"I'm kidding," she said lightly. "Yes. Nick is an only child." 

Angel took a drink of his water. He noted to himself that at least Nick wasn't a rival, but he'd been completely blown away by her revelation. "His father ... " Angel prompted. 

"He doesn't have one," Buffy responded dryly. 

Angel's brow furrowed. Surely Nick hadn't been some demon spawn like Cordy's pregnancy. What if Buffy had used artificial insemination? Some women opted to go that route for motherhood. He personally had always favored getting kids the old fashioned way, science be damned. Then again, there was the option that she *had* gotten him the old fashioned way - by having sex with a man - and Angel found himself reevaluating the positives of sperm banks. 

Buffy tried not to laugh. She could practically hear the thoughts racing around his head. 

"Is this going to scare you off?" she asked pointedly. "Because I'm not in the mood for your insecurities. Single parents raise kids all the time. And anyway, Nick isn't a kid. He's twenty-four years old. I'm not trying to snag a daddy for him." 

Angel stared at her like a deer in the headlights trying to absorb her latest statement. The 'scare you off' comment definitely meant she was looking for something more than a friend. Also, her kid was twenty-four? Jesus! Buffy must have gotten pregnant within months of him leaving Sunnydale. 

"No," he said slowly, "it's not going to scare me off." 

"Good," Buffy said smiling, "then you can come to dinner tomorrow and get to know him." 

He just nodded and said, "All right."

Clarice jumped as the door to her elegantly furnished apartment was thrown open unceremoniously. For a split second she dared to hope that it was Angel, back to beg for her forgiveness, but she just sneered when she saw Dan. 

"Looks like things are a little off schedule," he hissed through clenched teeth. 

Giving him a glare, she returned to her task of painting her elegantly pedicured toes. "So everything didn't go completely according to plan," she said nonchalantly. 

"'Didn't go completely according to plan'?" he parroted in a frantic voice. "You stupid little twit! Things are *way* off course. You were supposed to keep him away from her until everything was in place. All of our plans could be ruined by now!" 

"Things are off course," she said in a clipped tone, "but we will get back on track. At this point they've had very minimal contact." 

Dan laughed to himself and met her gaze again. "Guess again," he said snidely. "He was in the gallery this morning. You should have seen them looking at each other. We're in real trouble, they aren't wasting time. They're having dinner together right now." 

"Damn."

Buffy took a second glance at the house as she approached. There were lights on inside. She calmed when she noticed Nick's car. She hadn't been expecting him, but it wasn't odd for him to stop by unannounced. As she parked the car and headed inside, she chided herself for not being at the gallery. She had a ton of work to get done, but she just couldn't keep herself focused on cataloging. 

"Nick," she called as she opened the front door. 

"Down here," he answered, thought the sound was muffled considerably. 

Buffy made her way to the open basement door and yelled downstairs, "What are you doing?" 

"Looking for the tent," came the exasperated answer. 

"It's not down there." 

There were several barely audible curses followed by the sound of boxes being shoved back into the storage space under the stairs. By the time Nick made it upstairs, she had poured herself a glass of wine and was sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen island. 

"You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble by just calling me and asking me where it was," she said lightly. 

Nick scowled, he'd been digging around in every closet and storage space in the house for hours with no luck. He hated the idea that a two minute phone call could have solved his problem immediately. 

"I didn't want to bother you," he said. "I called the gallery and Dan said you had a date." 

Buffy took a swallow of wine. "It wasn't a date," she said calmly. 

"Oh, really?" Nick prodded, cocking an eyebrow at his mother. "Then what was it?" 

"Dinner. With a friend," she clarified, mortified that she was blushing slightly. 

"Uh huh. Is this the same friend from last night at Jack's?" 

Buffy coughed on her wine. "Yes," she managed to get out. 

"I bet you two used to be *real good* friends," he teased lightly. 

Rolling up a nearby magazine, she smacked him on the arm. "That's no way to speak to your mother," she chastised. 

Nick laughed openly, sitting down to join her at the island. "I'm just teasing," he said with a smile. "Besides, I'm glad you're getting out. I was afraid you were going to turn into one of those relics that you seem to love so much." 

Buffy gave a mock gasp to her son's comment. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"It means you're still a very attractive woman. You should date, find a partner, settle down." 

Frowning, Buffy replied, "I'm too old for all that." 

"No you're not. You spent how many years doing nothing but worrying about me, making sure I had a stable home environment. Now you need to worry about yourself," he said sincerely. 

Narrowing her eyes at her son, she asked, "This isn't some scheme of yours to divert my attention away from wanting grandchildren is it?" 

The look of abject horror on his face was priceless. "Grandchildren?" 

Buffy smiled widely and replied, "I'm just teasing. I know you're an adult, but frankly I'm not ready to be a grandmother just yet." 

Nick sighed audibly, reaching for the bottle of wine and pouring himself a large swallow. "Thank Gods," he mumbled.

"By the way," she added, "the tent is in the garage on the storage racks on the north wall . right where it's always been." 

Nick frowned, but downed his wine and headed out to the garage. 

"What are you doing anyway?" Buffy called through the open door. 

"Going camping." 

"You do remember you're supposed to have dinner with me tomorrow," she said pointedly. 

Nick reemerged from the garage with the tent in hand. "Yeah," he said, "I remember. The trip isn't until next weekend, I just figured it would take me a week to find everything." 

Buffy nodded and then looked down at her empty glass. "We're going to have company tomorrow evening," she said without meeting Nick's gaze. 

"Let me guess," he said with an evil grin, "Angel?" 

"Yes."

Angel paced around his tiny apartment rearranging everything in sight. Two days ago he wouldn't have given a single thought to the state of his makeshift home, but suddenly it was very important. He didn't want Buffy to think he was a slob. Not that she would be seeing the inside of his apartment anytime soon, but it never hurt to be prepared. 

Dinner with Buffy's family. 

He felt all tingly and nervous at the very thought. What if her son hated him? He hadn't gone out of his way to make a good impression the previous night, in fact, he'd almost growled at the young man. So much for getting things off on the right foot ... 

Angel studied the slip of paper Buffy had handed him after dinner. It was her home phone number and address. According to her, she was living in a house only a couple of blocks from the one she grew up in. He still had a hard time imagining Buffy as the happy homemaker, but apparently she was - sans husband of course. That thought made him feel better.

"Buffy, really," Giles chided, "why are you going to all this trouble?" 

She didn't answer, and the elderly watcher looked across the sofa to Nick for an answer. When he'd arrived for their usual Sunday dinner, Giles found Buffy racing around the kitchen frantically, trying to decide everything from which set of dishes to use to where they should eat to how many tomatoes to put in the salad. He'd been reminded painfully of the last Thanksgiving the Scoobies had spent together before Nick had been born. He prayed Buffy wasn't going to be that crazy this time around, it wasn't even a holiday. 

"We're having extra company tonight," Nick explained with a grin, then added quietly, "Mom has a date." 

"It's not a date!" Buffy yelled from the kitchen. 

"It's a date," Nick whispered quietly to Giles. 

The watcher smiled broadly at the tidbit of gossip. He'd felt for a long time that Buffy needed to find someone to make a life with, especially now that Jake was grown. She kept trying to bury herself in her job, and was doing a fairly good job of it, but the watcher longed for her to find real happiness with someone. 

"Who is he?" Giles whispered, though it actually came out rather loudly due to the watcher's poor hearing. 

"A professor of history at UC Sunnydale," Nick said quietly, keeping one eye on the kitchen door, making sure Buffy wouldn't walk in on their conversation. "She had dinner with him last night." 

"A history professor," Giles said with raised eyebrows. "What's he like?" 

"I only met him for a minute in Jack's the other night. He looked close to her age, maybe a little older. His name is Angel." 

"Angel?" the watcher gasped and then froze for several minutes. 

Just when Nick was getting ready to check the older man for a pulse, Giles bellowed towards the kitchen, "You're dating Angel?" 

Buffy came out of the kitchen holding a dish of corn in one hand, wearing a very sheepish expression. "We're not dating .exactly. He's just coming over for dinner." 

"Oh, right. I forgot. He eats now," Giles grumped. 

"Giles," Buffy said in a dangerous tone of voice, "that was almost thirty years ago and if I can get past it, so can you. Do not even think about ruining my dinner." 

At the command, the watcher sank back into the couch, the wind knocked out of his sails. He really didn't have a problem with Angel. He had long ago made his peace with the former vampire, but where Buffy was concerned, Giles was still an overprotective father.

Angel stood on Buffy's front porch, assessing and reassessing his appearance. He'd gone for black. It was a staple, plus he felt comfortable in it. At the last moment, he'd thought maybe he should have worn something light, something that didn't scream "vampire". He'd walked the thirty minutes to her house hoping that it would calm him down, but it hadn't done any good. Not that he had a lot of options other than walking, he still didn't have a car, but he could have taken a cab or a bus. 

With a feeling akin to the sensation experienced by kamikaze pilots heading out on a mission, Angel knocked on the door. It was opened several moments later by the same young man he'd seen Friday night in Jack's. Without the tinge of jealousy to color his perception, Angel easily noticed the young man's resemblance to Buffy. 

"Come in," Nick said with a smile. "Don't mind Mom, she's just having a minor nervous breakdown right now," he said as he led Angel into the living room. 

"I heard that!" came Buffy's frantic yell from the kitchen. 

Angel frowned. "Maybe I should go see if she needs any help," he said to Nick and Giles. 

Both men shook their heads in unison with expressions that told him it would be suicide to attempt such a feat. 

"Hello, Angel," Giles said and held out his hand. 

Angel gratefully took the proffered hand and replied, "Rupert." 

The three talked for the half an hour it took Buffy to finish getting everything ready for dinner. Angel wasn't sure what exactly he had been expecting from Buffy's son, but Nick wasn't it. The young man was cheerful, bright and unaffected. Some part of Angel had assumed that growing up in a single parent home, especially when that parent happened to be a slayer would leave Nick traumatized in some way. He wasn't. He appeared to be one of the most centered individuals Angel had ever met. It was even more of a testament to what an amazing woman Buffy was.

After dinner, Buffy and Angel were sitting on her sofa talking. Nick had gone home, dropping Giles by his condo on the way. Angel smiled. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done anything this decadently domestic. 

"Are you going to need help with dishes?" Angel asked. 

"No," Buffy said with a wave. "Leave 'em. I'll get them tomorrow." 

Angel nodded and then changed subjects, "Nick is a pretty amazing kid." 

"I know," Buffy said seriously. "He keeps me sane. I don't know what I would have done without him." 

"You're very lucky," Angel said with a smile. He was truly happy that she'd been blessed with Nick. 

"Yes, I am," she said with a matching smile. "He's always been like that, even when he was little. He could always just sort of see through all the bullshit and get to what matters." 

"I'm sure he gets that from you," Angel said. 

"Oh no," Buffy said with a laugh, "no way. Trust me, I would have remembered if he would have been kicked out of school for burning down the gym, or being a murder suspect, or anything else that I did. He's not like me and I thank gods for that every day." 

Angel frowned. The other option was that Nick was like his father - the man Buffy refused to discuss. 

Almost as if she read his thoughts, Buffy said, "I think Nick is his own person. He always has been. He doesn't get it from anybody, he just is." 

Angel nodded, that answer would do, for now. 

"I really had a nice time tonight," he said seriously, looking at Buffy. 

"Good," she said with a smile. "I had a nice time too." 

Angel knew it was too soon to push, but he couldn't help himself. He scooted towards Buffy on the sofa until their thighs were touching. Not breaking eye contact with her, he said, "I have really missed you, Buffy. I didn't even know how much until I saw you again." 

She met his gaze, both unable and unwilling to look away. "I missed you too," she whispered, her tongue snaking out to wet her dry lips. 

Angel's gaze dropped to her lips where her pink tongue was running over the surface. The look of raw hunger on his face made Buffy shiver in anticipation. As his gaze made it's way back up to her eyes, she held her breath and waited. 

It seemed like an eternity before his lips were on hers, gently nipping and sucking, his tongue pleading for entrance. With a gasp, Buffy opened her mouth and her tongue immediately tangled with his, the two rubbing together sensuously as their mouths meshed. They spent long minutes exploring the forgotten territory of each other's lips and tongues, reveling in the taste of their respective mates, so long denied them. 

"Buffy," Angel groaned as he broke off the kiss to nip along her jaw line to her ear. 

Her eyes screwed shut as Angel's infinitely talented mouth circled around her earlobe. Grabbing his shoulders, Buffy pulled her chest against his forcefully, needing the friction on her suddenly aching nipples as he made his way down her neck, biting gently and sucking roughly. She knew without a doubt that she'd have some pretty serious hickeys in the morning, but she couldn't convince herself to care. 

Needing to touch him, Buffy lifted his shirt and ran her hands along the achingly familiar planes of his chest. Without halting his ministrations on her neck, Angel moaned and arched into the contact, silently begging her for more. Ever one to oblige, Buffy grabbed handfuls of his shirt and pulled it quickly over his head, baring his chest completely. 

Buffy's mouth watered at the sight. It was beyond unfair that someone as old as him with his history of physical depravity should be blessed with a body like that. Not that she was complaining. She wasn't. With something very akin to a growl, she attacked his chest with her mouth. Angel threw his head back as she pulled large pieces of his flesh between her teeth, sucking roughly. It had been an eternity since he'd been this turned on by a woman. With a sound of need, he grabbed her hips and drug her across his lap until she was straddling him as he leaned back on the couch. 

Moaning, Buffy's fingers dug deeply into the flesh of his upper arms as he ground her hips into his. He was hard and ready for her, and she was so wet she was sure it was seeping through her pantyhose and into the fabric of his pants. The skirt she was wearing normally hit her just above the knees, but it had ridden up several inches farther when she'd straddled him. Unsatisfied with the amount of skin showing, Angel put both hands on her legs and pushed the skirt up until it was just barely covering her ass. He kept his hands clamped firmly around her upper thighs as she leaned forward to kiss him again. 

"I want you, Buffy," he hissed. "Now." 

She nodded frantically and between kisses breathed, "Yes. Yes." 

Angel broke off the kiss to look at her seriously. He cocked an eyebrow and looked around the room. "Here?" 

Buffy tried to gather her thoughts. They were in the living room on the sofa with the blinds open. The neighbors could see them. "Upstairs," she said tersely, grabbing his face with both hands and mauling his mouth once again. 

Angel didn't bother with a reply, he simply stood up, holding her against him and ascended the stairs two at a time. Apparently he had as much grace as a human as he once had as a vampire. When he reached up the upstairs hallway, he stopped. 

"End of the hall, third door on the right," she said between kisses. 

Once again, Angel followed directions without comment, pausing only long enough to kick her bedroom door shut with one foot. He set her down on her feet and they frantically undressed themselves and one another as they made their way towards her bed. Angel somehow managed to have the coherency to remove his wallet from his slacks and set it on the nightstand before the garment fell to the floor in a heap. 

When they were both completely nude, they stilled for a moment, standing length to length, holding each other, reveling in the sensation of being skin to skin with their mate. Buffy gave a fleeting thought to their fractured past, to all of the horrible things they'd done and said to one another. Despite all of the pain and horror, this somehow felt *right*, like nothing else in the world ever had. She knew without a doubt that she had never, would never experience this sensation with any other person and she also knew that it was the same for Angel - regardless of the multitude of partners he'd had. 

"I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion and need. 

"I love you too," she answered with complete sincerity. She knew it was crazy to be making such a statement. They'd only been on speaking terms for a couple of days, but she also knew that she had loved him since she was sixteen years old, and that had never changed, regardless of how angry she had been with him. 

Grabbing her hips, Angel pushed her backwards until her knees hit the edge of the bed. He motioned for her to sit. Gently, he placed his hands on her knees, urging her thighs apart until he could kneel between them, kissing her once again. Buffy tangled her hands in his hair, rubbing her chest against his, her desire spiraling. Slowly, one of his hands moved from her knee up her thigh and beyond until it rested lightly on her abdomen. Buffy let out a needful whine as his fingers slowly made their way into her pubic hair, barely brushing against her nether lips. Insistently, she pushed her hips forward on the bed, pleading for more until he took pity on her and began stroking her in earnest. 

As his thumb gently circled her clit, two of his other fingers found their way down to her wet sheath and began a languid pattern of insertion and withdrawal. He continued to kiss her deeply, biting gently into her lips and sucking on her tongue in time to the movement of his hands. Gradually he increased the pressure with his thumb until Buffy was just at the edge of orgasm, whimpering uncontrollably. When she was almost to tip over, he withdrew completely. Blinking rapidly, Buffy pulled back and looked at him in confusion. 

"Lay back on the bed," he commanded quietly. Buffy complied wordlessly, trusting him completely. 

When she was laying back on the bed, Angel lifted her legs over his shoulders and slowly bent his head to her wetness. He inhaled deeply. Her scent was incredible, just as he remembered it from the night of her seventeenth birthday. The light was dim, the only illumination coming from the moonlight streaming though the windows, but he could see her curls glistening with her moisture. She was swollen and hungry for him. 

Spreading her lips gently with his thumbs, he licked her thoroughly in one luxurious stroke of his tongue. Buffy moaned aloud at the sensation, her hips coming off he bed in search of contact. Angel smiled and used his hands to hold her hips down as he buried his face in her pussy, sucking forcefully at her aroused clit. She came almost immediately. He continued to suckle at her as she recovered from the force of her release. 

As her breathing returned to normal, he lowered her feet back to the floor and urged her farther up on the bed. She pulled at his forearms with needy abandon, longing to feel his weight pressing her into the mattress. He crawled up her body until her hips cradled his own and kissed her deeply. She reveled in the taste of herself on her mate's lips. It had indeed been too long.  She languidly traced the backs of his legs with her toes as her desire began to build again. 

He kissed her for long moments, gently caressing her face, whispering to her how beautiful, desirable, powerful, wonderful she was. He told her she was a goddess and she had no doubt he meant it completely. 

When the hunger was too great, she began to beg, "Please, Angel." 

He silenced her with a kiss and reached for his wallet on the nightstand. He stared down into her confused face and a smile played at his lips. 

"Protection," he said quietly. 

The thought hit Buffy with the force of a freight train. Angel was alive, human, virile, potent. Without proper precautions, this interlude could lead to a multitude of things from a STD to a . child. Buffy was in her early forties, but she was still physically able to conceive and bear children. She nodded quietly as he took the small wrapper out of his wallet and tore open the package. The ease with which he donned the condom spoke volumes in and of itself, especially considering the fact that they hadn't been around the first time he was a sexually active human. 

Buffy gave a fleeting thought to all of the meaningless sexual encounters he had used to assuage the emptiness in his life. She tenderly cupped his cheek with her hand and he turned into the contact, kissing her palm wetly with a huge smile. She returned his grin. He looked so happy. She knew without having to ask that he had never allowed this level of intimacy with any of his myriad of sexual partners. There was a vulnerability in his joy that was hers and hers alone. 

As he shifted the weight of his upper body onto his forearms and positioned himself at her entrance, Buffy raised her knees, spreading them as far as she could, allowing him total access. He kissed her once more and whispered his love for her as he slid inside her welcoming body. They both moaned at the sensation of him filling her. When he was sheathed to the root, he rested his forehead against hers, both of them panting raggedly. 

"Gods, Buffy," he hissed. "How can you still be this tight?" 

She couldn't answer, she was beyond words. She whimpered and clenched her internal muscles around his invading flesh until he too whimpered and began to thrust deep within her. He moved in deep, forceful strokes, delighting in her moans of pleasure. He bent his head to nuzzle her neck as he continued to fuck her at a languid pace. 

Turning her head to the side, she allowed him access to the creamy smooth column in an unconscious display of vampiric submission she had learned from him more than a quarter of a century before. Angel wasn't a vampire. He hadn't been a vampire for a very long time, but watching her do that nearly made him come on the spot. He still had a thing for women's necks, Buffy's in particular. He kissed slowly down to the juncture of her shoulder, to the place where her body still bore his brand. He laved the raised flesh with his tongue, reveling in her shivers. He sucked forcefully at the scar, pulling the rough skin between his blunt teeth, biting down gently. It wasn't enough to hurt her, or to even break the skin, but as his teeth closed around the brand, Buffy came hard, her hand grasping the back of his head, to hold him to her as her internal muscles milked his rigid flesh. Angel couldn't hold back any longer as her tremors were just beginning to recede, he let himself go, coming in deep jerky thrusts of his hips, the tip of his cock bumping against her cervix. 

When he was coherent again, he pulled out of Buffy, sitting up on the bed only long enough to dispose of the condom. Task accomplished, he laid on his side next to her, his hands gently playing along her flushed skin as they both tried to catch their breath. With a smile, she pulled his head down to hers and kissed him lightly on the lips. He wrapped an arm possessively around her hips, holding her against his body. 

He couldn't remember the last time he'd held a woman after sex. Most of the time he'd either pass out or dash off to take a shower, anything to avoid exactly what he was doing right now. It was not, however, all for her benefit. At the moment, he needed to be comforted as much as she did, reassured that what they had just shared truly meant something to her. 

Buffy was watching him carefully and she had no trouble reading the fear on his face. A small smile crept across her lips. "So," she said lightly, "when are you moving in?" 

He looked at her for a long moment and then with absolute seriousness answered, "Tomorrow." 

On to Finding Home