Almost Home

by Jill

 Part 18

“This was a really bad idea. It’ll leave me scarred for life.” Cordelia pushed back a lock of her hair with a recently manicured hand, and released a long, suffering sigh.

Angel, who was standing next to her, exchanged a meaningful look with Gunn over her head. The African-American chuckled, “The music isn’t quite my taste either, but it’s not that bad.”

The brunette narrowed her eyes at him, and Gunn realised she was doing it quite frequently these days. “Not the music. This,” she gestured vaguely around her. “I ruled this club once. And now, look what’s become of it.” Another long sigh followed the first.

“I think it is a nice club,” Fred piped up from Wesley’s side, “And the music is,” she paused, then winced when a heavy-metal song came on, “loud.”

“Yeah, loud,” Angel agreed, for once not happy with his advanced hearing ability. He wondered if Xander had chosen the song simply to torture him, then dismissed the thought. The boy had changed a lot. There wasn’t a lot left of the once angry, jealous teenager. He looked at Anya who stood near her fiancée. She was a strange girl, but obviously very good for Xander. Regarding the fact that she’d been a vengeance demon for over 1000 years, she was dealing remarkably well with her current situation. It couldn’t be easy to wake up human like this.

“I still can’t believe you forced us to stay and come here,” Cordelia folded her arms in front of her chest, turning her eyes towards Angel. “One would’ve thought you could hardly wait spending time with your honey.”

“Dawn insisted on it,” the vampire defended himself. The teenager had insisted they all should have a party at the Bronze that night. To celebrate. He knew she meant his reappearance in Buffy’s life. Cordy hadn’t been amused at the idea. But Angel had convinced them to stay. And not only because of Dawn. It was bad enough to be forced to see Buffy with Riley all the time, but without his friends around it would be unbearable.

“I don’t want you to think this music is even remotely my taste, but I think it’s not that bad here.” Wesley was looking at the dance floor where Xander and Anya had started to sway to the music – a love song this time – one of his feet rhythmically tipping the floor.

“Why, Wes, you’re quite the party animal and never told us about it. Who would have guessed?,” Gunn joked, grinning broadly. He was enjoying himself thoroughly. The club wasn’t bad, his friends were around and- Well, friends and … - he glanced at Angel – someone he knew.

“Yes, not ba-“ Angel stopped in mid-sentence when the door opened and Buffy and Riley strolled in. They weren’t touching, but to him they looked like a couple. Stop it, he scolded himself. That’s what you wanted. She does what you wanted her to do. So stop behaving like an idiot. But God, she was beautiful. She wore a pair of black pants, and a pink silken blouse, hugging her curves like a lover’s caress. Angel stifled a groan the very last moment.

Gunn whistled through his teeth, “Wow. If she isn’t the looker, the little Slayer. Angel, man, there might be a pattern in your taste in women, but who could blame you?”

“Don’t tell me you think she’s good looking,” Cordelia’s eyes were narrowed again. “She’s … okay she’s nice, but there’s nothing special. I will never understand why all the men are swooning at her feet.”

“No, because you’re not a man,” Gunn replied, his grin never wavering.

The brunette snorted, then reached out for Wesley’s arm, “Come on, boss. If you’re enjoying yourself so much, you can dance with me.”

“I- I …,” he stuttered, but followed her without protest.

Angel’s eyes followed the couple to the dance floor, but the smile in them vanished the moment they fell on another pair. They were dancing close, the man’s chin resting on her head, they looked as if they were glued to each other. Looking away, Angel reached for his glass. What did he expect? He'd practically handed her over to Riley. Bereft at the thought, Angel swallowed hard, sipped from his drink and studied Dawn who was talking to Tara in the opposite corner. The witch was on her own, while her lover was watching Connor at Buffy’s house. Angel guessed that Willow had offered it out of a feeling of guilt. She was still carrying a lot of it, the vampire knew, he was the expert after all.

Not able to resist, he looked back at Riley and Buffy, the commando’s hands lying around her waist, hers against the back of his neck. Her cheek was resting at his chest, the expression on her face content. Happy. It felt as if his heart was breaking all over again. **You're a bit like the dog in the manger, you don't let yourself want her, but you don't want anybody else to have her either.** Disgusted with himself, Angel took another large gulp of his drink.

“They are a nice couple,” Fred said tentatively from the side. She didn’t quite understand what was going on. Last night Angel and Buffy had looked like they were a couple. And now suddenly Riley and Buffy were together all the time. “But I … uhm … thought you and … she...”, she trailed off, giving him a quizzical look.

Angel couldn’t blame her. The last days he had certainly acted around Buffy as if they were a couple again. And it wasn’t as if their conversation this morning were common knowledge.

"She looks happy," Angel whispered, not able to tear his gaze from the scene before him.

"Wait a minute," Gunn narrowed his eyes at the vampire, "What's with this noble-sacrifice crap?," his voice was full of disbelief. "You're not going to pull that stunt again. You know, I-love-her-enough-to-let-her-go?"

As Angel watched, Riley tightened one arm around Buffy's waist, then used the forefinger of the other hand to tilt up her head. He smiled, and kissed her slowly, tenderly. She was the one, probably the only one Angel was ever going to truly love, and he was going to lose her to Riley - again. Well, he hadn't actually lost her the last time, because he'd been the one who'd done the getting lost thing, but still ...

"I was thinking about it, yeah...," he replied, "But I might throw up instead. I probably could do both simultaneously."

"So you love her enough to let her go, huh?," Gunn gave his friend a thoughtful gaze, his forefinger tipping at his chin. He sighed, lifted his glass, sipped, "That's real sweet, you know, but give yourself a break, Angel man. You'd rather love yourself enough to fight for her. Besides, look at her body language. I gotta tell you, she isn't comfortable, kissing him. She's not sold on this guy - not yet."

Angel desperately wanted to see it, but couldn't. All his mind registered was the fact that Buffy was in someone else's arms. Riley's arms.

Gunn put his glass down, spotting Cordelia in the other corner. She and Wesley had finished their dance, and she was standing at the bar, waiting for a drink. He patted his friend's shoulder, "Don't be a fool, man.”

A fool? Yeah, he was a fool. A stupid idiot. All he wanted was to step between them and claim Buffy as his, and yet he’d told her to go to Riley. Only this morning he had pushed her away and into the commando’s waiting arms. God, he’d done it again. He’d behaved in the same stupid way he had before. And hadn’t he told her that he realised that it was wrong? That he’d been making up reasons.

He almost jumped out of his skin when a hand settled on his arm.

“Angel,” Fred said softly, “Wes and I are going back to Buffy’s house.”

His brows drew together in bewilderment, when he saw the ex-watcher standing behind her, “What?”

She smiled, “We promised Willow, remember? She is watching Connor right now. But we want her to have some fun, too. So we’re going to release her, and take over.”

Angel’s eyes found Wesley’s, “You sure?”

“Of course,” the ex-watcher nodded, “Besides, it isn’t as if I’m dying to have this noise around me all the time.”

“It’s music,” Fred said with a smile.

“Music,” Wesley sighed dramatically. “In the end Cordelia will insist I have to dance with her again.”

Angel looked at Gunn and Cordy who were now dancing together, but he didn’t say anything. “Okay. But are you sure you can do it? I mean, Willow is a witch and if there’s a problem she can always-“

“Angel,” the ex-watcher gave the vampire a confident smile, “Nobody even knows the baby is here. And besides it’s not as if we don’t know how to fight. It’s the way we earn our money. There is another thing,” he was serious again, “If you have time – later. I need to talk to you about something.”

“We can talk now,” the vampire offered.

“No,” Wes shook his head. “Willow waited long enough already. We talk later. Have a nice evening.”

The vampire wanted to argue, but then thought otherwise. Wesley was right. They were in Sunnydale, not in L.A. Nobody knew Connor was here. “Alright. Thanks.” Maybe he should go himself, he thought, watching them leave. But he had promised Dawn to attend the party, and he knew how disappointed she would be when he left early. And the mere idea of leaving Buffy on her own with Riley made his blood boil. He would stay. So he could at least make sure that the commando wouldn’t overstep his bounds.

*****

The vampire turned away from the window and then carefully lowered himself back to the ground. His body was still sore, even though vampire healing had taken away the edge of pain.

“Is it there?”

Spike almost groaned at the excitement in Dru’s voice. If it wasn’t for his damned chip he wouldn’t have taken up with the insane vampire again. “Yeah. It is.”

“Then let’s get it. I know you’re invited.” Her forehead creased into a frown, then without warning she smacked his cheek with long, red-nailed fingers.

“Ow,” he yelled, then shot a startled glance at the window above. It wouldn’t do any good if they knew he was here. He was pretty certain that Buffy hadn’t told her friends about him, but Angel knew, and he had no intention to meet up with his grand-sire again any time soon. “What was that for?”

“Because you are a bad, bad boy. Your heart still reeks of Slayer poison. That’s not very nice, Spike,” she pouted,  “Not nice at all. If you don’t stop, I’ll have to punish you.”

Spike resisted the urge to stake her on the spot, and instead reached into his pocket for a cigarette, “We cannot get him. The little witch is in there. She says she’s sworn off magic. But I’m not taking it to the test. She’s powerful, she could turn us into a toad.”

“You,” Drusilla replied, giggling as if he’d just told her the most hilarious joke. “I’m not going in. I’m not invited. You will get the baby.”

“Besides,” he growled, “I cannot knock her unconscious.”

“Poor, poor Spike,” this time her slender hand stroked his crown. “Such a nasty thing to do. Can’t hurt humans.”

Had her touch really excited him once? The blond vampire restrained himself not to push her away. But the prospect of getting his chip removed was too tempting to make a mistake now. He blew smoke into the night air, watching it floating away. Only a few days ago, he would’ve buried himself inside the Slayer, and today he was reduced to listen to the loony bitch. He drew at his cigarette again, when a noise from above had him looking up.

“Something is happening,” Dru hissed behind him.

“I can hear that,” he replied, not trying to hide the annoyance in his voice. “You stay down here. I’m going to check. And you, hide in the shadows.”

*****

She was standing at the bar now, and although Angel knew it was the absolute wrong thing to do, he pushed himself off of the wall, and was about to cross the room, when Riley was suddenly standing in front of him.

"Planning to trespass, Angel?"

That spiked his temper. As if Buffy belonged to anybody ... "I didn't know she was your property."

"Leave her alone," Riley gave him a knowing gaze. "You just upset her."

Angel resisted the urge to change into his game face, and to rip the other man’s throat out. Bloodshed in the Bronze wouldn’t gain him any friends. Swallowing his anger at the commando’s behaviour, he managed to keep his expression neutral, “Maybe you should go there then,” he said, “She shouldn’t be on her own.”

Riley raised a brow, clearly surprised at the vampire’s behaviour, then without another word turned and walked over to the blond Slayer who was sipping at a glass, her gaze unfocussed. She looked up when the commando joined her and smiled. Angel closed his eyes.

“Angel.”

He turned his head at the voice finding Willow beside him. “How’s Connor?”

“He was sleeping when Wes and Fred came. He’s such a good baby.” Willow smiled at the vampire knowingly, "I always hated Arthur Dimmesdale."

"Hmmmm." He wasn't really listening, too busy to watch Riley with Buffy. But then he realised she was looking at him, "Huh?"

"Arthur Dimmesdale, the guy from the Scarlet Letter, you know, the novel? I always hated him. Even in highschool."

What the hell was she talking about. "You did?"

"Uh-huh," Willow nodded, "He spends the whole book bemoaning how badly he's treating Hester, but he can't stop it. I always thought he was a wimp. And she was a jerk to put up with it." She face the vampire fully, "I think men, or women for that matter, who constantly beat on themselves probably should stay out of the love game."

He almost choked on his drink, "Love game?"

"Uh-huh."

“Willow, I-“

She held up a hand, “I really don’t want to know, Angel. But I’ve learned something these last days. She might not be the Buffy I know, but some time ago, I tried to push the other one at Riley. It didn’t work out, because she couldn’t love him the way he wanted her to. Why do you think it’ll be different this time?”

Angel sighed, ran a hand through his hair, “Willow, you know that there are problems, that-“

“Yeah, I know. There’s the curse. But Buffy – this Buffy – told me that I found a way to reverse it. In the other dimension, I mean. So why don’t we throw all our energy together, try to find a solution instead of feeling miserable?”

“She isn’t feeling miserable, she’s with Riley. Willow, she looks happy,” Angel argued.

The witch raised a brow, “Does she? Really?”

They both turned their heads towards the dance floor, where right that moment Buffy and Riley were once again dancing together, Buffy looking up at him, obviously hanging on every word.

“Does she not?,” Angel wanted to know.

But before Willow could answer, Buffy froze in her movements, took a step back from Riley, and then before Angel could even blink punched the commando in the jaw, sending him flying backward against some chairs.

“No, she doesn’t,” Willow said with a small grin. She had not forgiven Riley for leaving Buffy when she needed him most. And all because of his hurt male ego. Damn the man. Tara would never do such a thing. Sometimes being a lesbian was a real comfort.

“Right,” Angel agreed when Buffy stormed from the club, not caring that everyone had been watching the display. “Willow, I-,”

“Go,” was all she replied, already pushing him towards the exit, towards Buffy.

*

He caught up with her two blocks later. She’d been running like lightening at first, but as soon as she’d brought a safe distance between herself and the Bronze, she slowed down, and she was walking now when he saw her at the corner.

“Go away,” she yelled, not turning around. Of course she’d sensed him. For a moment he froze, stunned completely. She had sensed him? She was from another dimension and still could sense him? Of course she could. He could sense her, too.

“Buffy, wait.”

“No,” she replied, increasing her pace again. “Leave me alone. I don’t want you here. Why did you even stay? Why didn’t you just leave with your friends.” She spat out the last word as if it was poison. “Go to them. I don’t need you.”

“No. I’m not going to leave you like this.”

She stopped, but didn’t turn, “Why?,” she asked, her voice low, “You’re going to leave me anyway. It doesn’t really matter when.”

“Buffy, please,” he wanted so badly to reach out, but knew he had lost the right, when he told her they couldn’t be together. “I didn’t say the things I said to hurt you-“

“No?,” she asked sarcastically. “You still did a pretty good job.”

His stomach clenched painfully, “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I never wanted to hurt you. But I know I did. And I’m sorry. It’s not as if I liked doing it. It hurts me too, you know. Do you think I want to leave? Do you really think that?”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she told him, started to walk again. “All I know is that you’re not even willing to try. And why should you. I’m really not worth it. Look at me, I’m stupid. Look what happened with Riley.”

Again he resisted the urge to reach for her, to make her stop. “What happened with Riley? Did he do anything?”

“Do?,” she asked, and stopped once again. “No, he didn’t do anything.” Slowly she turned and the look in her eyes was worse than the any torture Angel could imagine. She looked more lost, more hurt, than ever. The pain in her hazel orbs was like a punch to his gut, and Angel was glad he didn’t have to breathe, because it became impossible all of a sudden.

“Buffy-“

He was interrupted when she suddenly started to laugh, a low, harsh, unhappy sound. “No, he did nothing,” she repeated, when the laughing had subsided enough to make speech possible. “You want to know what happened?,” she asked, and Angel realised that he didn’t. All he wanted was for her to stop, but the pain, the hurt, was pouring out of her now, and her voice became shrill. “Well, here it goes. You can see how stupid I am. Oh, he was sweet and thoughtful and … great,” she laughed again, and it tore through Angel’s heart like a stake.

“He is a great guy. Everybody told me so. Willow couldn’t stop talking about him, and Xander actually blamed me when he left. And now you’re pushing me at him. But you know what,” she blinked and Angel realised she was only a blink away from crying, “The great guy, the one you wanted me to be with to ease your conscience, the great guy is married.”

Angel winced at her reference to his conscience, not quite able to dismiss her words, when her last sentence registered in his mind, “He is - WHAT?”

Another shrill laugh came from her throat, “Married, yes. He told me so. Right out there on the dance floor. That he had a nice, homely wife, back in Iowa. But that she was very understanding, if you know what I mean.”

“He-,” Angel swallowed against the acid he tasted in his mouth, tried to see through the red mist fury swimming before his eyes. He didn’t know what he hated most. The fact that Riley was married and had offered Buffy an affair with him, or that he had been too blind to see that a love like theirs was worth fighting for, and that only guilt had let him talk to her the way he had in the morning.

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“God, Buffy.” It came from his lips in an agonized groan. “God,” he whispered again, the agony at her words slicing though him.

“Yeah, God. But unfortunately he’s not here,” she said, “He’s never been here. Not for me anyway.” With a last long look, she turned and walked away.

“Buffy, wait,” he shouted, but she didn’t, instead she started to run, faster and faster, and only due to his vampiric state Angel was able to keep up with her. He couldn’t let her go like this. True, it was his fault that she was looking at him that way. He had done his best to destroy her trust in him, had stomped on her feelings, had pushed her away, and into Riley’s waiting arms. But watching her with the commando, listening to Gunn, and Willow, had helped him to clear his mind. Had made him see what he was throwing away. And by God, he was not going to do it again.

He knew he had hurt her, that she was probably hating him right now, but he was willing to grovel, to crawl, to beg for her forgiveness. There was still the curse, but Willow was right, they had found a way around it in the other dimension, so they could do it here, too. And a normal life? Buffy was never going to have a normal life. She was the Slayer. They didn’t work 9 to 5, they couldn’t take care of families. And if normal meant guys like Riley, men who were married to one woman and playing with another, she was better off with him. He might not be able to walk in the sun, but he wouldn’t cheat on her. Ever.

He was so deep in thoughts that he bumped into her in front of her house. “Buffy?,” he looked at her quizzically.

Her only response was to nod towards the door. The door that was hanging from the hinges.

 Part 19

“What was that?”

Willow looked up into Xander’s inquiring gaze, then turned her attention back to Riley who was still struggling to get up from the floor, Tara near by, lending him a hand. It was so like her lover, to help without questions. “I don’t know,” she replied, narrowing her eyes. She didn’t have a clue why Buffy had hit Riley. But in her book it was long deserved. She didn’t feel any pity.

“Wow, I call that putting your ex in his place.” Cordelia came rushing over to her two highschool friends, her voice slightly breathless. She’d seen the whole thing from the other side of the Bronze.

“Enjoyed it, huh?”

She narrowed her eyes, giving Xander a glare underneath lowered lashes, “Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask Willow here. I saw a delighted sparkle in her eyes right from the other side or the room. I on the other hand was just wondering. Not that our Buffy isn’t the violent type. Because she is. But punching her ex on his nose right in the middle of the dance floor is a bit extreme, even for her.”

“Gee, you think?” He shook his head,  then turned to Willow, who was still looking at Riley, wiping his bloody nose with a hanky Tara had obviously given him. “And you really don’t have a clue?,” he asked.

“No,” she replied absentmindedly, although it wasn’t entirely true. She’d felt the vibes coming from Angel. Defensive. Angry. And above all, jealous. Something must have happened between he and Buffy. They had been close ever since he’d come back from L.A. and suddenly it had changed. And then she’d gotten all cosy with Riley. Just the way she had after her return from L.A. two years ago. But something had happened, probably something the commando had said. She just didn’t know what.

“What happened?” Dawn joined the group, her brows raised, her nose crunched.

“If you ask me, it’s the typical reaction of a woman scorned.”

Cordelia drew a deep breath, then slowly raised a brow at Anya, who had slipped her hand through Xander’s arm in a deliberate possessive gesture. “Actually,” the brunette started, then caught herself when Gunn joined the group. She made a vague gesture instead. Snapping at Anya wouldn’t get her any points here. And where the hell had that come from? Points with what? With Gunn? Ridiculous! With an inward snort she instantly dismissed the thought.

Anya only saw the raised brow and nodded, “Truly,” she insisted. “Women scorned tend to violence. Or they summon someone who does. I’ve been in the business for a long time, and it was never boring.”

Xander sighed, but didn’t comment. Instead he looked at Dawn, “We don’t know, Dawnie.”

“Angel ran after her,” the teenager’s eyes were on the exit, where her sister and the vampire had just disappeared. “Did you see?”

“Yeah, we saw,” Xander replied.

“Right after Riley kissed her, and she hit him.” A deep frown appeared on the girl’s forehead. “Why the hell was she kissing Riley? I thought things were good between her and Angel.”

Willow finally managed to tear herself away from her thoughts, and smiled at the teenager, “Don’t worry, Dawn,” she told her, wrapping an arm around Dawn’s shoulder, glad when the girl didn’t evade her touch. “Everything’s going to be fine.” Her head lifted, her eyes seeking those of her friends, meeting them in silent agreement. “We’ll take care of it.”

*****

“Connor.”

With that one word Buffy watched Angel storm into the house and after a heartbeat she followed him, their argument instantly forgotten. She heard him shout the name of his son, then alternatively Wes’ and Fred’s, then at entering her house she saw him coming from the living-room, his eyes wild and scared in a way she had never seen before. He was scared for his son, she realised. For the beautiful, helpless child who was so precious to him. The child the whole demon population of this planet was after.

His gaze didn’t rest on her, and in a flash he was running up the stairs, throwing open the first door, and obviously not finding what he was so desperately looking for, appeared in the hallway again. The feeling of dread that had started blooming in her gut the moment she’d seen the entrance door hanging in its hinges, intensified to a twisting pain, turning her intestines into a gigantic knot.

She stormed after him, her own legs shaking so badly she was surprised she was able to keep up with his speed. Finally they reached the door to her own bedroom, and even as Angel opened it, Buffy knew their worst fears would come true. She almost moaned when her eyes fell on Wesley and Fred, both lying on the floor, unmoving, the face of the young woman deathly pale, her broken glasses lying close. The former watcher’s body was lying in a twisted angle behind Buffy’s bed, his clothing torn, his face covered with bruises, and the Slayer could hear Angel draw in a sharp breath when their eyes simultaneously fell on the two tiny puncture wounds on his neck.

Connor was nowhere to be seen.

“Wesley!” Angel crouched down beside his fallen friend, his shaking hands searching for a pulse, he almost collapsed in relief when he found it throbbing under his fingers.  “He is alive,” he announced, not taking his eyes from the ex-watcher. “What about Fred.”

“Just unconscious,” Buffy replied, kneeling beside the other woman. “And she has a bump on her head. Probably a concussion. But she seems unharmed besides that.” She bit her lips, looked at the bed, feeling close to tears, “Angel,” she said, “Connor-“

“I know,” he interrupted her, his voice harsh, so raw, Buffy wanted to weep. “Call 9-1-1.” He was already pulling out his own cell phone, punching in numbers, then waited impatiently. “Gunn,” he said urgently,  “It’s me. Someone took Connor. … No. We don’t have an idea. Wes and Fred are hurt.” He turned, saw Buffy at her phone, “Buffy’s already calling an ambulance. Get Cordy, and the others. Now.” He shut down the phone, looked at Buffy again. For a moment their eyes locked and held. Then he turned away, trying to suppress the panic that was threatening to consume him.

*****

“Make him stop.”

Spike resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and decided to ignore Drusilla’s plea instead. She was standing in the corner of his crypt, her ears covered with her hands, her face contorted to a mask of pain. Obviously it wasn’t enough to have a chip in your head, to be the laughing stock of the whole vampire community, not to forget the Slayer’s boy-toy, whom she’d cast aside without a second glance, something he didn’t want to announce anywhere. Contrary to what he’d said to Angel it wouldn’t get him any points with his fellow vampires to tell he’d jumped a Slayer’s bones.

“It hurts.”

The blond vampire sighed then gazed at the crying baby in disgust. Without doubt Angel’s son was a whiner. Damn. He had not the slightest idea how to treat a baby. He was tempted to let Dru suck him dry, but knew that the people who wanted to have the kid, wanted him alive. They’d been very specific about that on the phone. A living baby was the only delivery they would accept. Or they wouldn’t keep their part of the deal.  And more than anything, Spike wanted his chip removed, even if it meant he had to find a way to deal with a crying baby.

A crying baby, a crazy sire.

With a loud groan, he pushed himself off the wall, grabbed the diapers and the baby food  they’d gotten at an all night supermarket on the way, the shopkeeper had been Dru’s midnight snack, and strolled to the tomb they’d used to put the baby in. Angel would have a fit, Spike thought with an inward snigger, if he found his son that way. “Go away,” he ordered, and Dru moved without protest. Then hoping his supernatural sense of smell would survive the next ten minutes, he started changing the baby’s diaper.

*

“Ohhh, Daddy’s baby,” Dru crooned half an hour later, when the baby was finally asleep, having been changed and fed, a duty Spike had only been able to endure by thinking about his delight at Angel’s pain when his grand-sire found out that his son was gone. The slurping noises the kid made while emptying its bottle could make a vampire’s stomach turn. Humans were simply disgusting. A good thing vampires couldn’t procreate – or rather weren’t supposed to. It was an abomination in itself, this human child of two vampires. And it was even more embarrassing to find yourself related to something like that.

“It’s my brother, Spike. My little brother.”

Dru was again standing at the open tomb, her red-nailed fingers stroking over the baby’s blanket, an expression of pure delight on her features.

“Go away and shut up,” Spike muttered. “If you’re not careful the thing is going to wake up and cry again.”

“I once had a little brother,” Dru went on, ignoring Spike’s comment. “A little brother and sisters. Did you know that?”

“Yeah, I know.” God, why had he ever decided Sunnyhell was a good place to live. When his chip was removed he would leave, and never look back, Angel and the Slayer be damned.

“But Daddy took them away,” Dru giggled. “He killed them all.” She finally left the tomb and came over to Spike, her voice dropping to a conspirational whisper, “Because…,” another giggle, “he wanted me all for himself. Just for himself. But then the bad gypsies came and took Daddy away. And then he fell for the little girl. It’s only fair we get his baby now.”

“We won’t keep him, Dru,” Spike said with a hint of annoyance, “Remember? Your friends will get him. And they will remove my chip in exchange.” He managed not to flinch when she combed her fingers through his hair, her nails scraping the skin.

“The bad, bad chip,” she whispered, then giggled. The same annoying, insane giggle he remembered. He had loved this woman once. Had loved her completely, with his heart and – thank God – not his soul. Life had been easy, but then the Slayer had come into and tainted everything. She had found a way into his undead heart and nothing would ever be the same. “Yes, they will remove it,” he heard her hiss into his ear, her unnecessary breath tickling a very sensitive spot behind it. He remembered Buffy kissing it, remembered his instant arousal. With Dru, he felt nothing.

When she turned back to the tomb, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to dream of a time where the chip was gone, and the world would finally be his again.

*****

“Oh my God.”

Buffy and Angel looked up and saw Willow and Tara, and the others hurrying towards them and the two ambulance vans where paramedics were busy loading the unconscious forms of Wesley and Fred.

“Are they going to be alright?,” the redhead asked with concern.

“Fred’s going to be okay,” Angel informed them. “Wesley is beaten up pretty badly. And he’s been bitten. But the paramedics are positive that he’d going to make it, too.”

“Still no idea who did this?,” Cordelia came to stand beside Angel, but didn’t touch him. He was so tense, she was afraid he would break.

“No,” this time the answer came from Buffy, who seemed equally tense, her face almost as white as Angel’s, the skin over her cheekbones unnaturally tight. A sure sign of distress. “But it is strange. As Angel said, Wes has two puncture wounds. But how can a vampire come inside? Fred and Wes aren’t ignorant. They know better than to invite anyone inside.”

“And the fact that almost everyone is after Connor, doesn’t help either.” Cordy sighed in resignation.

“We could try a,” Tara started, then quickly glancing at her lover, she amended, “I could try a spell. I’m not sure it’s going to work, but maybe we can trace something. A smell, an aura. Anything.”

“That would be great,” Buffy smiled gratefully, while Angel’s face remained an unmoving mask. Only his eyes, darker than usual, shadowed by pain and despair, gave away what he was feeling. “Angel and I are going to the hospital. Let’s hope Fred will wake up soon, and can give us a hint.”

“Alright,” Willow nodded, glad when she saw Tara reaching for Dawn’s hand. The girl was in shock, ever since Gunn had received Angel’s call. “We’re staying. Trying to find something. We’ll let you know.”

“Thanks,” the Slayer took her friend’s hand, squeezed it. Then she followed Angel who was already walking towards his car.

*****

She was, Buffy realised, slowly going insane. Staring at the still closed doors of Fred’s and Wesley’s rooms, she was reminded of the fact that patience had never been part of her personality. She wanted to go out, kick something, wanted to get rid of the frustration, wanted to get her mind off the gut gnawing fear. In a matter of days, she thought not with just a slight feeling of surprise, Connor had become important to her, too. Not to forget his father, who was sitting next to her, unmoving, his eyes closed, his head resting against the wall. Outwardly he seemed completely calm and composed, but Buffy knew that inside he was trying to hold on to his own sanity.

He’d looked absolutely gorgeous tonight. Even in her current state, the Slayer couldn’t help to notice. He had hurt her this morning with his declaration that they couldn’t be together, but even in Riley’s arms, she hadn’t been able to ignore him. He’d been standing with Gunn, all big and grouchy – no doubt because of the loud music – and was still the most attractive man she’d seen in her whole life. God, she loved this man, she thought with sudden clarity. Nothing would ever change that, not death, not different dimensions. And the fear, and pain, she knew he had to be experiencing, broke her heart.

“Angel-,” she started tentatively, not sure if he even wanted her to talk to him.

He stiffened at the sound of her voice, stood and walked to Fred’s closed door, then stopped, as if frozen in mid-stride. Not looking at her, he turned away from the closed hospital door, ran a hand through his hair. “I knew it. When Wes told me he and Fred were going to watch Connor, I had a bad feeling. But I …,” he paused, shook his head, “We don’t even know who took him.”

“Oh, but we do.”

They turned around, saw Willow and Tara standing a few feet away, their faces wearing similar serious expressions.

“What do you mean, we know?,” Buffy was instantly alert, felt Angel go into fighting-mode beside her. In a moment he had turned from concerned, frustrated parent and friend to a dangerous animal, ready to strike.

The redhead stepped closer and pulled her hand from her pocket, opened her palm. She held it out for vampire and Slayer. They looked at it, drew both a sharp breath, then quickly glanced at each other.

“You two stay here,” Angel ordered, already walking towards the elevator, Buffy in his tow. He hadn’t said a word for her to follow, but he didn’t have to. “Call me on my cell phone if anything changes with either of them.”

“We will,” Willow assured him, glad when Tara took her free hand and squeezed it. She watched the doors of the elevators open, saw her friends step inside and the doors close again. Giving the object in her hand a last look, she tossed it into the garbage can.

 Part 20

“So where the hell do you have the kid?” Lilah had finally reached the end of her admittedly not well developed patience. She was tired after endless phone calls, a two hour drive to this God forsaken town, and on top of it had to deal with an insane and a chipped vampire with an attitude. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t dealt with vampires before, but that didn’t mean she’d ever come to like that sort of conversation with someone whose brain was solely situated in four prolonged canines.

“Not so fast, lawyer lady.” Crossing his arms in front of his chest, his left hip partially resting on an old headstone, Spike was thoroughly enjoying himself. It was nice to be in charge for a change. “Where is the doctor who’s going to remove my chip?”

“Not here,” Lilah gave the blond vampire a scrutinizing glance. “Don’t make a mistake, Spike. You’re not the one in command here. You might have something we want, but don’t underestimate us, we have resources you can’t even imagine. If we want to find the child on our own we can do that. We’re simply doing you a favour.”

“That’s not what I hear. As far as I know you haven’t even been close to the kid. Angelus isn’t someone you can just throw over, he isn’t your regular vamp.” Spike unfolded his arms, reached into his pocket for a cigarette. “Not that I like him,” he continued, stuffing one into his mouth, then lightening it. “On the contrary. I don’t care what you’ve got in mind for him.” He grinned when he saw something flicker in the woman’s eyes. “I might look stupid sometimes, lady, but I’m not. I know that Angelus is the big player you’re after. Dru here told me all about your little Darla-scheme. Nice try. But of course completely useless. The big Poof’s too hung up on the Slayer. Darla hasn’t been in the picture for a long time.” He blew out smoke, watched when the rings dissolved in the night air.

Lilah exchanged a short glance with the three muscles she’d brought with her, all employed as bodyguards with Wolfram & Hart and used to deal with vampires. They were the firm’s most recent development, completely supernatural, computerized and reliable. And  trained to do what they were told, just the kind she needed tonight. Of course as long as she didn’t know where Angel’s son was, their talents were worth nothing.

“Ohhhh.”

Her head whirled around at the sound of Drusilla’s voice and Lilah felt the now familiar creepy feeling crawl up her spine. She wasn’t afraid of vampires, but this one had always given her the willies. You usually could predict the actions of vampires, they thought with their teeth, but with Drusilla nothing was predictable. And she had the feeling Spike wasn’t too stable either. There was something in his eyes, something she couldn’t clearly understand, something that made her want to run and hide.

“What?,” she snapped, glaring at Drusilla.

“You have bad thoughts, lawyer lady,” the dark-haired vampire said, her mouth turning up in a smile that made Lilah shiver. “The baby is at a safe place.” She came forward, stood beside her childe. She raised a hand, wiggled a finger at the other woman, “Bad, bad girl. We want to see the doctor first. I want my Spike back. Then you can gave the baby.” Her lips turned to a pout, “I’m not keeping it. It’s crying all the time.”

Alarm shot through Lilah, “He is still alive, right? Our deal’s only for a living child.”

“Sure he is,” Spike blew out another cloud of smoke, “We’re not going to kill him,” he grinned, “yet. But as you know vampires don’t have a lot of patience.”

Yeah, she knew, Lilah thought. Neither did she. “Fine. I’ll get the doctor here. Is there a place where he can perform,” she gestured at his head, “the procedure.”

“We’ll find something,” he replied, tossing the cigarette butt down, then grounding it under his toes. “Meet us again tomorrow. Behind the old church outside of town.”

“Fine,” she retorted, hoping she’d find the church. This damned town had more churches than streets. “Same time. Don’t be late. And bring the child.”

“We’ll see,” Spike gave her another superior grin and she hated the fact that she couldn’t just let her companions kill him. Instead she had to watch when the two vampires faded into the night.

*****

More than ever, Buffy was glad for her Slayer speed. Angel’s long strides carried him through the cemetery, and would she have been a mere human, Buffy wouldn’t have been able to follow. Of course without being the Slayer, she’d never met Angel in the first place. Too tired to see any sense in that thought, she pushed it aside, and concentrated on following Angel through the darkness, tried to steel herself for the upcoming confrontation, she knew was inevitable. Had known ever since she’d seen  the cigarette butt lying on Willow’s palm, and had hardly been able to believe her eyes.

Spike.

Spike had taken Angel’s son.

A part – a big part of her had tried to deny it, had tried to find explanations – even excuses. Spike wasn’t the only guy smoking, he had the chip in his head, wasn’t able to attack Wes and Fred. And yet - the evidence was condemning. Who else would go into her house, and leave a cigarette butt of the same trade mark Spike usually smoked. Besides, it was so like him to flip it away, and now even care. Or maybe even have done it by purpose, for Angel and everyone to see.

The answer was simple and clear, if she liked it or not. The man – the demon – she’d been sleeping with for the last couple of weeks had taken Angel’s son.

She wanted to close her eyes and ears, and run. But of course that wasn’t an option. She was the Slayer. A human being was in danger. A demon had taken him. It was her job to help, but the little girl inside of her still wanted to run and hide. God, what had she done? And how much of the fact that she’d allowed him to fuck her, had made him believe he could take the baby? She had allowed him to come into her house, into her life, she had treated him like an equal. Although all her senses had warned her, she had eventually trusted him.

And there had been reasons. He had saved Dawn’s life. He had kept her secret even as Glory tortured him, had fought by her side, had listened when nobody else would, had given her a reason to go on. The worst part was that she was now questioning everything. What of it had been real and what just fake. He hadn’t faked his orgasms, that was for certain, but what had been lies and what not? Had he been faking his concern for her sister? Had everything been a lie? And why the Hell should she care at all?

And what – in consequence – did it make her?

No. Her mind shied away from the question, and she tried to concentrate on the current situation instead. Now was not the time to beat herself up. Connor was missing,  Spike had taken him. All that counted was that they had to find him. As soon as possible. Spike couldn’t hurt him, but he had a twisted mind. And he hated Angel. Spike would hurt him with a smile in his heart.

“He isn’t here.”

At Angel’s words, she stopped, and looking up she realised they’d reached the crypt. “What?,” she asked, not quite back in the present.

“There’s no heartbeat inside. And there are no vampires around. Certainly not one that carries my blood. I’d feel it.” He didn’t look at her when he spoke, his eyes were busy scanning their surroundings. “Spike was always stupid, but even he must have realised that staying in his crypt wouldn’t the be wisest thing to do.”

“Yeah.” Buffy hated the fact that her knees almost went weak with relief. What was the matter with her, dammit? It wasn’t that she cared for Spike. So why was she dreading this confrontation so much?

Angel ran a hand over his weary face, then through his hair, and she could see his fingers were trembling. God, she was an egocentric bitch. He was almost sick with concern for his missing child and she was thinking about her own minor problems with Spike. Reaching out, she touched his arm, and was glad when he didn’t flinch. “We should go and find Tara. Maybe she can do a locator spell or something. And maybe Wes or Fred are awake and can give us a hint.”

“I doubt Wes will wake up so soon,” the vampire looked down at her, his eyes like dark gems in a dark pool. “I’m not a doctor, but vampires can sense some things. He was weak. But maybe Fred …,” he trailed off, held up a hand.”

“What?,” she whispered.

He held his forefinger against his lips, and Buffy was again reminded of the fact that vampires could hear a  lot better than a Slayer. She was about to ask again, but Angel relaxed suddenly, released an unnecessary breath. “Nothing,” he told her. “I thought I heard something.” He shook his head, rolled his tense shoulders.

Buffy thought about massaging them, then dismissed the thought. “I’ve been trying to understand why he did it,” she said after a moment.

“He hates me,” Angel replied without hesitation, “but I don’t think it’s all. It’s just a pleasant side-effect. No,” he shook his head again, “Spike is going for a trade.”

“A trade?,” she asked, although she already felt she knew the answer.

“Yeah, a trade. The baby for,” he locked his eyes with hers, “his chip. And I have a good idea who is going to be eager to make the deal.”

Part 21

“I don’t understand why it isn’t working.” Wearing an expression of confusion and concern, Tara looked up from the herbs she’d scattered on the Summers’ living-room floor.

“Maybe you just forgot some ingredients,” Xander thought aloud.

“No,” the blond witch shook her head, “I’m sure it’s all here,” she made a sweeping motion with her right hand, then sighed in frustration. “I’m just not good enough. Willow …,” she trailed off, knowing very well that her lover wasn’t an option. The redhead had left the room as soon as Tara had started setting up the location spell, and was now in the kitchen preparing food, tea, and coffee for the others. But Tara hadn’t missed the slight tremble in her lover’s hands.

“Angel,” Cordelia gazed at the vampire who was standing at the window, staring into the night, “Why don’t you sit down?” When he didn’t even acknowledge her she sent a worried glance towards Buffy who was watching Angel with an identical expression.

“Cordy is right, Angel, we’re going to find Connor,” she said softly, but her voice was lacking conviction. Would they find Connor in time? Angel was convinced that Spike would be trading the baby for his chip, and that some lawyers in L.A. who had tried their best to get rid of Angel were the best bet for the deal. From what Buffy had heard so far they were serious players and the life of an innocent child meant nothing to them. And Wesley had taken her aside, telling her he was convinced they wanted the child for study reasons only. Buffy shuddered. The idea of Connor being treated like a lab rat was turning her stomach.

And it squeezed painfully, when the vampire finally turned to look at her, the expression in his eyes completely blank, his voice devoid of any emotion when he spoke, “This time he’s gone too far. For reasons I’m not eager to explore something always kept me from ending his miserable existence. But not this time. By taking my son he has signed his death sentence.”

The room was silent when he ended, Tara and Dawn wearing stricken expressions on their faces. Tara hated violence in general, and Dawn had seen the bleached blond vampire as her friend for a long time, but behind their stricken look Buffy could also detect understanding. Xander looked slightly pleased, Buffy noticed not really surprised. It had never been a secret that her long time friend didn’t harbour any friendly feelings for Spike.

Cordy was the first to speak, “Damn right,” she stood up, walked over to Angel, putting a hand on his arm, showing him her support, “and if you hand me stake, I’m not going to sweat about it. It’s long overdue. After what he did to you when he came for the ring …,” she trailed off when she caught Angel’s warning look. “Anyways. He’s past due.” She raised her chin, warning anyone to contradict her.

Still caught up in her own controversial emotions, torn between the urge to stake Spike on the spot for what he’d done to Angel, and to let him slip away because he’d been part of the team for long, not to forget her lover, Buffy stood apart, trying to decide what to do. Wesley stood in the corner of her living-room with Gunn and Fred, all watching Angel with concern. Anya was the only one who was missing. She’d gone to the Magic Box. It was a workday, and she had to open it. It was just as well, Buffy mused. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand the ex-demon’s sometimes harsh comments today.

“Hey, guys,” Willow suddenly stood in the doorway, holding a tray loaded with cups. A forced smile was on her face, and Buffy noticed how hard she tried to avoid looking at the herbs on the ground. “Tea is ready. And coffee. Take what you want, there’s more in the kitchen. And I made some cookies,” she announced, then after putting down the tray flew from the room as if it was haunted.

“She’s still got a long way in front of her,” Wesley said gravely, glad he was able to change the subject, even if talking about Willow was only marginally better.

“That’s what addiction does to you,” Gunn replied with the wise insight of a street kid. “I’ve seen it before. Of course it wasn’t connected to magic, but addiction it was.” He sighed, scratched his bald head, “So, why don’t you try that spell again?,” he proposed, nudging Tara slightly when he passed her. He poured himself a cup of coffee, sipped. “This one’s good. Unlike the stuff we usually get.”

Cordelia’s eyes narrowed instantly, “How about you make your own coffee in the future?”

“Y-yes, that’s a good idea,” the blond witch said from her spot on the ground, already rearranging the herbs. “Maybe it’s just the wrong setting. Dawn can you read the set-up of the spell for me again, please.”

Snapping out of her frozen expression, the teenager concentrated on the pages, repeated the words. “S-sure. Here it says the rat’s eye comes before the ginger root,” she looked up from the book. “Maybe you’ve got to change that?”

“M-maybe,” Tara agreed, changing the ingredients yet again. “Now, give me the book.” She took it from Dawn, started chanting the text wordlessly, trying to memorize it. When she looked up again, her eyes were slightly dazed, “Could you please lighten the candles now,” she ordered, not addressing anyone in particular. “First the two black ones, then the whites in order of their size. The red one comes in the end, just before I speak the last sentence about showing me the location.”

“Alright.” Cordelia was already sitting beside her, having taken the matches from Dawn, and Buffy was struck by the intensity of the brunette’s gaze, maybe understanding for the first time how deep the former cheerleader had bonded with Angel’s son - and with the father. A sharp pang of jealousy shot through her. Fred’s words about a romance between vampire and seer came to her mind. Although Angel had never given the words any fuel, keeping his behaviour strictly as that of a friend, Buffy couldn’t help the uneasiness she felt this very moment. Her eyes flickered to the vampire, who was watching the events on the floor with an impassionate expression. Yet, the Slayer knew that they could only guess what toll this took from him. She knew that he was only a step away from losing his self-control. And she knew she wouldn’t behave any different. Hell, she already was close to losing control, and she had known the little boy for days only, and wasn’t related to him.

She forced her attention back to Tara and Cordelia who was already lightening the first white candle, while the blond witch was chanting with slow pronounced words, not stuttering once. One candle after the other was starting to burn, and finally Cordelia reached the red one. As soon as the wick had caught fire, a ball of white, almost blinding light emerged from the candle, growing from a small ball to a huge balloon, filling the room.

They were all staring at it, mesmerized, when Tara clapped her hands and the light exploded into colourful stars, like a firework, then subsided, and the room was back to its initial appearance.

“What did you see?” Angel’s voice interrupted the silence, cool, controlled, but Buffy had no problem hearing the searing rage and the sickening fear underneath.

“They are still in Sunnydale,” Tara replied, looking at him with compassion. “The baby is fine. I saw … S-spike … a-and another … person. She is dark haired, quite beautiful. I think she is a vampire.”

“Drusilla.”

Buffy’s gaze shot to the vampire, “You’re certain?”

“Who else would it be?,” he asked, but it wasn’t really a question. Of course it was Drusilla. It was only logical. Probably it was her who had cooked up the plan in the first place.

“God, I can’t believe this, Drusilla again,” Cordelia exploded and stood with one fluid motion. “Any volunteers to stake the loony bitch, too?”

“Alright,” Angel spoke again, “Now the really important question. Where are they?”

“I’m not quite s-sure,” Tara entwined her hands, tried a nervous smile, but failed completely. “But it looks like an old house. Big. And it seems there isn’t anyone living in it.”

“The only houses that are in accordance with this description are the abandoned family houses in the north, not far from where the Bronze is,” Buffy though aloud.

“Yes,” Xander agreed, nodded to emphasise his statement. “So,” he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What’s going to be our next move?”

*****

The vampire Spike, formerly known as William the Bloody, was not a happy camper. Swearing colourfully, he stomped through the basement of an abandoned building in the bad part of town, trying to ignore the crying baby on the one end, and his moaning sire on the other. He wasn’t so sure anymore that getting rid of a chip was worth all this.

Worse even, despite all his bravado and superior attitude, he couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that the lawyer lady wasn’t as easy to handle as he’d thought at first. And the idea to let one of her friends cut into his brain hat lost a lot of its attraction. “How much do you know about those lawyer guys?,” he asked, not bothering to look at Drusilla. He already knew she was sitting in the corner, a heavy pout on her once so tempting lips.

“They are evil.”

Now there were some news. Spike resisted the urge to punch something, preferably Drusilla, and continued pacing the basement. He wanted to go out and hunt, or do something. But unfortunately is was bright daylight and he didn’t care a lot for spontaneous combustion. His life was pathetic, no doubt there, but it was still his life, and he was far to happy with it, to give it up. “Yeah, well, I’ve seen that,” he hissed at his sire, “but what I mean, what do you know about pretty Lilah?”

The pout intensified, as did the pain in her eyes, “You think she’s pretty?”

Spike resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Jealousy was the last thing he wanted to deal with, especially from a person who, for more than hundred years, hadn’t missed one opportunity to inflict that special torture on him. And he – like a the love’s bitch he was – had endured it time and again. Not only had she found lover after lover, but more infuriatingly her obsession with Angelus had never ceased, not even when the bastard had gotten his soul. “She’s not a pain to look at,” he replied, “So, what do you know about her?”

“She worked with Lindsey.”

He whirled around. Another player in the game? “Lindsey?”

“He was in love with grandmum.” Drusilla removed the hands from her ears, then smiled when she realised the baby had stopped crying. “Men could never resist her,” she said, standing up, walking over to where he was standing, her smile turning into a seductive grin. It had once aroused him without end. Now it repulsed him. And all because of the Slayer. God, he wished he’d never met her. No wonder his grandsire was behaving like a whipped puppy. He behaved like one and he didn’t have a soul.

“He was almost sweet,” Drusilla went on, “and he tried so hard to be evil. But deep inside he was good. Poor baby, he was a lot like you.”

Anger shot through him like lighting, changing into his game face, growling low in his throat, he shoved Dru against the wall. “I’m not good. I’m a vampire.”

“Yes, you are,” she agreed, “but you were always different. Daddy said so – do you remember?”

“Shut up,” he hissed, increasing the pressure on her wrists, his eyes glowing dangerously, “If I’m different at all, it’s all your fault, you loony bitch.”

“Spiiike,” she crooned in delight, “you are so evil.”

His eyes narrowed at her, when he saw her shifting into game face.

“Oooooh,” she moaned, pressing her body close to his, “This feels so good.”

He let go of her as if she was soaked in Holy Water. “No, it doesn’t.” And it didn’t. All he felt was disgust. Distancing himself from her, he asked, “Okay, this Lindsey, where is he?”

She shrugged, “I haven’t seen him. He was cute. I couldn’t smell him either. So maybe he left.” The pout appeared on her face again, “You are no fun anymore.” She reached out, touched his head, “You think it’s the chip, but the truth is, her poison is everywhere. Deep inside of you. My poor, poor, Spike.”

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, slapped her hands away, then walked over to where the baby was sleeping. The kid looked so much like Angel it was sickening. He sure as hell didn’t want to find a copy of himself running around, what the Poof saw in this little bundle of noise and smell was beyond him. On the other hand imagining his damned Grand-Sire suffer was delightful. It was his fault after all that Buffy had turned away from him. She hadn’t shown any signs of breaking-up before, but then Angel had showed up in Sunnydale and their relationship had gone straight to Hell.

Okay, so it hadn’t really been a relationship, Spike admitted grudgingly. They’d fucked, and done it well. He knew the little bint had enjoyed going down with him, letting him do it to her hard and fast, with claws, teeth, with everything. But it had never gone beyond that. She never stayed to talk. She never touched him afterwards. She never whispered to him, the way Dru had. And she had closed his eyes most of the times.

Trying to imagine he was another.

Seeing a book lying on a table, he reached for it, then tossed it against the wall with brute force, glad when he saw it dissolve, the pages falling to the ground like leaves in autumn. Why the Hell was this happening to him? And why on earth was he letting it happen? Was his head so fucked up that he enjoyed being stomped upon? Did he unconsciously seek pain and misery?

He tried to picture Buffy – with her blond hair, her hazel eyes, and the smile that melted his bones. She was all light, strong, the epitome of good, but at the same time consumed by darkness, death, and destruction. It was the combination that had drawn him to her, had always fascinated him in Slayers. But fascination or no, he’d never felt the urge to sleep with one before. Until her.

It would’ve been different if his chip still worked. But he knew he could hurt her, even kill her, and hadn’t done it. And instead of being grateful, of seeing how it showed his love, Buffy had said ‘no thanks’ and walked out of his life. His love meant nothing to her, he meant nothing to her. Angel’s presence had been enough to cause this complete turn-around in her behaviour. Caused her to order him out of town. To order him to stay away from her and her friends.

And it had caused him to let his anger rule, and forget all about caution. He looked from Connor to Dru, then thought about Lilah Morgan. And again he wondered if getting rid of his chip was worth it.

Part 22

"Angel, stop." Cordelia frowned at the vampire who was pacing round and round in the hospital waiting room. The movement made her head spin, and she felt a headache forming right between her eyes. Touching the tender spot, she winced slightly at the pain it caused. "You're going to wear down the carpet."

"She is right, Angel," Willow gave Angel a concerned glance.

"I can understand that you want to be out there looking for Connor yourself, but unfortunately it's daylight. It was hard enough to get you inside the hospital without freaking out the staff." The headache was getting worse, and Cordy reached for her purse to find some aspirin. "I wonder how often they see someone arriving underneath a smoking blanket."

"Buffy, Xander, Tara, and Gunn are out looking for them, Angel," Dawn stood up from her chair next to Willow's and came to stand in front of the vampire, very effectively blocking his path. He stopped, but his eyes were distant, unfocused, and so the girl reached out, touched his arm, not caring when he flinched. "I'm sure Connor is fine. You said it yourself. Spike needs him to cut a deal."

"Yeah, he does," Angel replied, speaking for the first time since they'd reached the hospital. "But Dru is unpredictable, and I don't even want to think what's going to happen if Spike can't keep her in check.” There was too much he’d seen, too much he could never forget. Dru had always had a thing for kids – and not in a good way. To say she was obsessed with them would be a huge understatement. “Damn it," he swore, pulling back from Dawn who was watching him through startled eyes, "they have had him for almost 24 hours now. They could be anywhere."
 
"Hello, they're vampires, remember? They can't travel during the day." Cordy popped three pills into her mouth, forcing them down her throat without water. "They're stuck in Sunnydale."

"Stuck, yeah," Angel scoffed and sent an impatient glance at the hospital door opposite them. They'd gone to the hospital after a call from Fred's doctor that she was awake. The vampire had sat in the backseat protected by several thick blankets, wondering why on earth the Hellmouth had to be in California of all states. Alaska would've been nice too, and much less sunny. The cold wouldn’t have bothered Angel, he couldn't feel it anyway.

After the doctor's call he'd expected them to be lead straight to Fred, but instead they were damned to wait - again, while the nurse was checking Fred's intravenous tube, and changing her clothes. Changing her clothes, for God's sake! Connor was missing and the hospital was caring about clothes! He'd almost vamped out when the nurse had told him to wait.

"Xander will call as soon as they know more. Or Buffy will. She is the Slayer, Angel," Willow exchanged another worried glance with Cordelia. Angel was clearly agitated and she didn’t like it. Not that she was uneasy because of it. Years of living on the Hellmouth and around vampires, ensouled and chipped ones, had taught her a lot, but Angel’s current behavior was untypical for him, or at least for the Angel she’d known. Then she suddenly remembered a night when Buffy was supposed to be in danger at a frat party, and relaxed a little. Maybe this kind of behavior was typical for Angel – at least if a beloved one was in danger. Still, she thought, assuring him couldn’t hurt, "Buffy is strong. If there is a chance to get Connor back, she will get him for you."

The vampire was about to answer, when the nurse appeared in the doorway, her stern eyes on Angel. , "Mr. . uh .. Angel," she began, with a holier than though lift of her chin. Angel could almost see her rolling her eyes on the inside, though her face remained neutral. She probably thought he was some kind of wacky Rock Star who had chosen to have only one name. "Fred is awake now. But she has a concussion, so I want to warn you not to excite her in any way. Is that clear?" Her eyes became even sharper at her last sentence.

"That goes without saying." Cordelia was the first to speak. She gave the nurse her brightest smile, "Fred is our friend, we would never do anything that could harm her. We're so grateful you're taking such good care of her."

A bit stunned the nurse grunted, "Alright, two of you can see her now. Come with me."

Angel was behind her immediately, and Cordy followed. Fred was part of their L.A. team after all, while Willow and Dawn barely knew her. Not that they'd made any move to follow. So she walked behind the nurse and the vampire, the smells of disinfectant and something else she couldn’t quite name, reminding her yet again why she hated being there. Nothing good ever happened in hospitals.

The nurse opened the door, and Cordelia entered the room behind Angel, the nurse excusing herself with another admonishing look. Cordy's eyes fell on the brunette in the bed and she stifled a gasp. Fred was frighteningly pale; a black bruise was over her cheekbone, one eye almost swollen shut, a huge bump on her forehead. Cordelia could only guess the kind of headache the other woman was suffering from.

"Hey, Angel," Fred's voice was small, and rough, but she tried a smile that instantly turned into something wobbly, and she had to blink.

In an instant Cordelia was by her side, taking the other woman's hand. "Easy there," she soothed, stroking the back of said hand, then the arm. "You have a nasty bump on your head. And you've been through a lot."

Fred didn't seem to hear her, her eyes fixed on Angel, who was looking at her with an expression Cordy couldn't read. "I am so sorry," the young woman said hoarsely, tears thick in her voice, and running down her cheeks. "We tried, but they were so strong."

"They?" Angel hunched down beside the bed, and he reached out to touch Fred as well. "Do you remember what they looked like?"

"A vampire," she told him. "Blond. A man. He entered without needing an invitation. I didn't know he was a vampire at first because he could come in," new tears forming in her eyes, "and it's a Slayer's house after all, so I thought ...," she sniffed slightly, tried to wipe the wetness from her face. She winced when she touched a particularly tender spot.

"That's okay," Cordy smiled again, and nudged Angel who was simply looking at Fred.

"Yes, completely understandable," he said getting the hint. "So what happened?"

"He said he was a friend of Buffy's and went for the kitchen. Then he stopped at the door, said a friend of his was waiting outside and asked if I could look after her. So I went to the door." The flood of tears started anew, "Oh, God, Angel, she looked nice. So I said she should come in, that her friend was inside already, and she ... the moment I said the words, she vamped out and slapped me across the face." She touched the bruise on her cheek.

"What did she look like?" the vampire wanted to know.

"Beautiful. Black hair. Delicate, her skin was almost translucent. At first I thought she was extremely attractive, but later ... I mean after realizing she was a vampire," she stopped, then tilted her head when she saw Angel draw a sharp breath. "You know her?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "yeah, I do. Her name is Drusilla."

"Yes, that's what he called her. And she called him Spike. I suppose you know him too."

Again struggling not to vamp out, Angel managed to simply growl, but Fred's eyes widened nevertheless. "Not one of your friends, huh? Well, after slapping me they started searching the house and .. . I instantly knew they were after Connor, and I tried to warn Wes, but when I came upstairs, Spike was already holding the baby and Dru was all over Wesley. I think I .. screamed. But I can't really remember." Now she touched the bump on her head, "It's all so fuzzy. I took the nearest object, some statue. I think I broke it." There were tears again, hot tears, a mixture of grief, anger, and guilt for having failed.

Angel understood only too well, and whatever anger he'd harbored, even if unconsciously, dissolved at seeing his friend in such distress, "Fred, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't know. I shouldn't have left Connor. Either Buffy or myself should've stayed with him."

"But we thought Sunnydale was safe," Fred insisted, sniffling again.

"Rule number one," Cordelia squeezed her hand, "Sunnydale is never safe. Hello, built on a Hellmouth."

"She is right." Angel ran a hand through his hair, cursing himself yet again for being so incredibly stupid. "So, Dru was all over Wes and you had the statue."

"Oh, of course," Fred nodded, "I hit her, and she let go of Wes, but then she took the statue from me and," she touched the bump again, "then," she smiled sheepishly, "nothing."

"I see." Letting go of her hand, the vampire got up rubbing his forehead, a sure sign he was trying to think.

Fred was even paler now, Cordy decided, and patted the other woman's hand, "Wes is going to be alright."

"Yes, I know. The nurse told me. But that's not what really worries me." Fred took a deep breath, "What's going to happen to Connor? Why did the vampires take him?"

Realizing that there would be no answer from Angel, who had retreated into his own thoughts, Cordelia let go of Fred's hand. She was trying to keep herself together, but it wasn't easy when a baby she'd grown fond of was in danger, and his father was barely holding himself up. "We think that Spike might try to make a deal with Wolfram & Hart. You remember when Willow told you about his chip?" When the other woman nodded, she continued, "He's eager to get rid of it. So in exchange for having his chip removed he'll give them the baby. Or at least that’s what we think."

"Oh my God," Fred cried, new tears rolling down her cheeks.

"But," Cordy said firmly, "we're going to get him back. While we're talking, Buffy and the others are searching the town for them."

As soon as she'd said it, Angel pulled out his cell phone, and dialed. "Buffy, it's me. Fred confirmed our suspicions. It was Dru with Spike. He tricked Fred, who didn't know he was a vampire, and Dru attacked Fred and Wes. Did you-," he stopped, listened to the Slayer on the other end, and Cordy barely kept herself from chewing her nails. "I see. So what are you going to do now? Hmm. Good idea." Something close to a smile crossed his face, "I'll try. And Buffy, thanks. I know, I know, nevertheless. Yeah. See you later."

He shut down his phone, and then looked at the two women. "They haven't found them so far. They were not in any of the old warehouses. They're going to start on the other abandoned buildings now." He turned away, combed a hand through his hair, "God, I wish it was sundown."

*****

"We need some kind of strategy."

Frowning slightly to herself, Buffy stuffed her cell phone back into her pocket, then glanced at Xander who had uttered the words. "A strategy?"

"Yeah, you know, a plan," her friend replied. "A plan that tells us what we should do once we find Spike."

"I don't know what you're doing with vampires around here, but where I come from we just stake the nasty bloodsuckers." Gunn shot the younger man a clearly irritated look.

"That's what we do, too," Xander shot back, giving the other man a "duh"-look. "The problem is, Spike is-"

"Nothing," Buffy interrupted him sharply. "Spike is nothing but a vampire who took a human baby. As Angel said, he signed his death sentence when he did it." Glad her voice sounded firm while her insides where in turmoil, Buffy took a deep breath, surveying the area they were in. It was the bad part of town, littered with old, abandoned warehouses. She remembered fighting Angelus in one of them. It was burnt down now. And she also remembered a night where she and Spike had found Dawn, hurt because Willow lost control over her magic. The vampire had helped her both times. He had given her the advantage she'd needed to overcome Angelus, and he'd taken care of Dawn the night she was hurt. Maybe his motives had been shady both times, but it didn't change the fact that the blond vampire had helped save her life and the life of her sister. Not to mention his help in defeating Glory, saving Dawn's life yet again. Okay so that hadn’t been this Spike, but did it really matter?

With sudden clarity she realized that it would be hard to kill him, maybe not as hard as driving the sword through Angel, but still. It wasn’t love that caused the reluctance, she knew that without a doubt, but there was still a bond, formed by fighting together, trusting the other person. The mere thought of ending Spike’s life made her nauseous.

But maybe she wouldn't need to. She had seen the look in Angel's eyes, and knew what it meant. Spike had overstepped his bounds, in both human and vampire terms. He had taken Angel's child, and in the process disobeyed his elder - both were unacceptable, and both would be followed by lethal punishment. Suppressing the sudden chill that had nothing to do with the temperature in Sunnydale, Buffy forced herself to look back at her friends. Xander was still watching her, his eyes narrowed, while Gunn was scanning the area. Tara stood beside him, and gave the Slayer an encouraging smile when their eyes met.

"So what did Angel say?" Xander wanted to know, still scrutinizing her in a most unnerving way. Her long time friend knew her too well, so she tried to keep her face impassive.

"He talked to Fred," she replied, looking at Tara. It was a lot safer. Tara knew all her dark secrets, and she would keep them to herself. More importantly, she wouldn't judge. She was a lot like Angel in that way. "Angel was right about Drusilla. Spike tricked Fred and next thing she knew, they were in. They took Connor, knocked Fred and Wes down, then left." She rubbed her forehead, "Somehow knowing we were right doesn't really make me feel any better."

"Me neither," Gunn agreed. "After the whole mess with Angel's sire, I'm not sure I want to go through something similar with this girl."

"What I want to know," Xander said, "is what prompted Spike's ex to turn up in Sunnydale? I thought their eternal love-story was a thing of the past."

Not completely, Buffy thought, remembering Drusilla's last visit and her attempt to get Spike back. He had resisted her in the end, had tried to convince Buffy it had been for her, but she knew he'd been severely tempted. Now, after she herself had dumped him, he'd be more susceptible to Dru's advances. If Buffy had learned one thing these last few months it was that Spike wasn't the most self-confident guy around. He always tried to appear like a tough guy, but underneath she had sensed a persona that could become extremely dangerous if provoked, or rejected. She'd already seen glimpses of that Spike, in her school when he'd fought her to the death. But she had the uneasy feeling that she hadn't seen the true extent of his cruelty so far.

"Who knows," Tara replied. "I never tried to understand why vampires do things." She smiled at Buffy, and the Slayer smiled back. She had told the witch the whole story, and of course now Tara was coming to her rescue. Tara knew that Buffy hated the idea of her friends knowing about her affair with Spike.

"True," Xander nodded, "especially if they're mentally challenged." He sighed, "So what are we going to do now?"

"We're checking empty houses. One after one," Buffy looked up into the setting sun. "It'll be sundown soon. Which means Angel will join us. The sooner we know where they are the better."

"Wait a moment," Xander's voice held her back. "What happens if the baby isn't there anymore? What are we going to do then?"

Buffy felt the dread settle in her gut, felt it knot, and twist. God, what if Connor was already gone? So far she hadn't let herself think about the worst. And what about Angel? It was one thing to go after Spike and Dru for taking his son, but to realize that the baby was gone? "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," she said slowly. "Because if Connor is gone, Spike and Dru are going to be the least of our problems."

*****

Bracing both his arms on either side of his head, Angel closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths. Usually this kind of exercise never failed to calm him down, but today obviously nothing could do the trick. The fact that he'd been in a state of constant semi-arousal for days didn't help either. The heavy ache of desire, something he could remember very well from his year in Sunnydale after his return from Hell, had been riding him hard. It was making him edgy and irritable, and it had been fed by the jealousy caused by Riley's arrival, and of course by Buffy’s revelation about Spike. Even now, in this very hospital hallway, with the danger that was looming over Connor, he could feel it.

Disgusted with himself, Angel turned away from the wall, his eyes falling on Cordelia who had just entered the room. "Any news?" she asked.

Angel shook his head slightly in the negative, "None so far. Buffy hasn't called, and I didn't try to reach her again. But it'll be sundown soon. I can feel it already."

"Good. Frankly, the kind of mood you're in is making me edgy. But still," she stepped closer, putting a hand on his arm, "I know this is something between you and Spike. And I understand you have to do this. But please, be careful. It won't do Connor any good if he ends up an orphan."

He couldn't help but smile at the concern in her eyes and voice, "I'll be careful. And I know you think this is about Spike. But it isn't. It's ... he took my son, Cordy. Nobody does that and lives." He paused, then amended, "No vampire, that is."

"Oh, good," she gave him a crooked grin, "At least humans are still safe. For a moment-," she stopped in mid-sentence, then made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Anyway, Drusilla actually bothers me a lot more than Spike."

"Me too," he replied, knowing she'd been about to remind him of his behavior about a year ago, he realized, when he'd closed that cellar door with the lawyers and two vampires inside. The fact that she'd dismissed it showed him more than anything that he'd regained her trust. Under normal circumstances he'd be grinning like an idiot, but as it was he couldn't even summon a smile.

"Hey," Willow stuck her head into the waiting room. She and Dawn had gone down to the cafeteria for a while. "Any news?"

"Nothing," Cordy informed her. "Where is Dawn?"

"She went to see Fred. Seems the two have bonded a little."

Angel nodded at that, then turned away from the two women, heading towards Fred's room. He wanted to ask her if she remembered anything else, anything that would be of help. She'd been exhausted before and so he and Cordy had left her room for a while to let her rest. But if Dawn was with her now, it meant she was awake. In the doorway he stopped and looked back at Cordelia who was watching him. He gazed at her for a moment, before he said, "Thanks."

She raised a brow. "Thanks?"

"Yeah, for being a friend."

She looked clearly surprised, then - after a moment - smiled, "You would've done the same for me."

"Still, it means a lot."

"I know," she replied. "Thank me by being careful tonight."

There was concern again in her eyes, he noticed, and a lot of affection. But it was the affection and concern of a friend, and it was thoroughly genuine. It was good to have such a friend, he thought. Nodding at her, he said, "I will", and left the room.

 

 Part 23

Spike took a deep drag from his cigarette, then marvelled at the feeling of the smoke passing his larynx and filling his dead lungs, stretching them slowly, like a caress on the inside. People these days were afraid of it, luckily vampires didn’t have similar concerns. And unlike a human, Spike could hold the smoke down, then exhaled slowly, in small round puffs that left his mouth and floated through the air right in front of his eyes.

He could feel the sun setting outside, could almost smell the approaching night. It was an internal clock all vampires had, they usually slept until that hidden inner ringing roused them from sleep just when the last rays of the sun were fading. And if it wasn’t for a whimpering baby in this damn building he would’ve done exactly that. But Angel’s son had been a noisy little brat the whole day, probably afraid, or cold, or whatever. Not to forget Drusilla whose moaning was even more annoying.

And then there were these nagging doubts if what he was doing was right. Not, he assured himself quickly, it had to do anything with a conscience. He didn’t have something like that, he didn’t have a soul after all, he didn’t do conscience, thank you so much, but somehow, deep inside, he couldn’t help feel something stirring. It had nothing to do with Buffy, he tried to convince himself. He was over the bitch. Done. He’d gladly dance on her grave. Or would he?

Sighing he took another slow drag from his cigarette, closing his eyes for a moment. The baby was quiet this very moment, as was his sire, and by blocking out the world, he could pretend this wasn’t really happening. But of course it didn’t work. The lawyers would come soon and then he’d have his chip removed and –

The problem was, he didn’t trust them. Would they really keep their side of the deal and remove the chip, or would they cut his head open and do something entirely different? Killing him was one scenario, but it wasn’t the worst one by far. And the fact that Dru would be near by wasn’t very calming either. She did have her lucid moments, but he wasn’t entirely convinced she could really judge what was going on. So imagining himself on some lab table, his head cut open, wasn’t as tempting as he’d once thought it’d be.

Releasing the smoke from his lungs, he again watched it dissolve in the air, disappearing into nothingness.  The smoke was a lot like a vampire, he mused, instantly snorting in disgust at his maudlin thoughts. That department belonged solely to his grand-sire, he’d never been one too think too much, more a man of action, of getting things done. Not always to Angelus’ pleasure, he thought, remembering a certain incident which had them hiding in a mine shaft in England. God, his grand-sire had been pissed then, Spike had received one of the worst beatings of his unlife, but thinking back on it now, he almost wished those times were back, when things had seemed simple, when he’d been following – or sometimes not following – orders.

With another snort of disgust he flipped the cigarette away, watching the glowing tip in the darkness. He was even more pitiful than he’d thought. No way he was wishing for the old times to come back. To have Angelus breathing – purely metaphorically of course – down his neck, to listen to Dru in ecstasy when Darla wasn’t around. He turned his head, glancing at the sleeping vampire in the corner. She was lying on a blanket, eternally beautiful, her skin translucent, her lips pale and soft, her eyes closed, revealing nothing of the madness usually shining from them. She looked more like an innocent girl than the evil demon she really was.

Maybe that’d been part of the attraction she’d always held for him. That combination of evilness and innocence, the way she could be completely helpless the one moment, and a dangerous predator the next. Thinking of it, there was another woman, more alive, not quite as dark-haired, who combined the two things as well.

He whirled away from Dru, swearing loudly. Damn Buffy Summers. She was in his head, in his blood, and she was not going to go away. Even now, in this old abandoned house, with Dru so near, the only thing he could think of was her, her creamy skin, her sweet little moans, the way the breath left her mouth in puffs when she was asleep. Not anymore though. He would never watch her sleep again, at least not the way he’d gotten so used to these last weeks. She’d made it perfectly clear, and he knew her well enough to understand she’d meant every word she’d said to him.

They were over.

Not that it really surprised him. With his grand-sire back in town … Try as he might, he wasn’t stupid enough to deny their connection. He’d seen it first hand, a couple of years ago, in the old Magic Box when they’d tried so hard to do the friendship thing. He’d known then, and he knew now that nobody would ever come between them. They might screw others, might even have kids with them, but love … now that was an entirely different question.

He reached for another cigarette, lit it, and inhaled the smoke like his very life depended on it. There was only one thing for him left to do. He’d get his chip removed and then he’d get the hell out of Dodge, as far away from her as possible. Maybe  then he’d be able to start living again. If she or Angel didn’t kill him first, that was.

He saw the smoke dissolve in the air, hoping that his ashes weren’t going to join it soon. As much as he liked the idea of his grand-sire suffering, he wasn’t – and had never been – very fond of leaving this planet. And certainly not on the end of stake in the hand of his former lover. Maybe it was time to think about some other scenarios. A little safety-belt in the back couldn’t hurt.

Taking a new drag from his cigarette, Spike turned his speculative gaze to the sleeping baby, and slowly a smile made its way across his lips.

*****

Buffy felt him approach before she even opened her eyes. She, Xander, Tara, and Gunn stood leaning against the wall of an old abandoned warehouse, their eyes closed, waiting for the others to arrive.

Angel had called ten minutes ago, informing Buffy of his departure from the hospital.

“Hey, there you are,” Xander said, and Buffy could hear the forced brightness in his voice. He might not be fond of Spike, but she knew he wasn’t looking forward to the upcoming confrontation either.

“Yeah, here we are.” Dawn’s voice was tense, and a little quivery, a bit like the little girl Buffy remembered. Or not, she thought with a sudden stab of pain. She’d grown fond of this Dawn, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the sister in the other dimension, the one she would never see again. How was she doing, Buffy wondered? Would her father accept the sudden responsibility and actually be a father for her? She could only hope. There was nothing she could do, but maybe, she thought, glancing at again at the girl by her side, she could be a sister for this Dawn. Seemed the girl had already accepted her.

“I t-tried another location spell while we were waiting,” Tara informed the others, nervously glancing at Willow, who was frowning. Her lover wasn’t as well as she tried to appear, and Tara felt her heart grow heavy. She wished she could carry a part of the redhead’s burden, but knew that Willow had to do this one on her own.

“And?” instantly Angel’s eyes were on the witch. They were darker then usual, almost bottomless, but there was a determination in them that frightened Buffy. Not for herself, or her friends, and she was absolutely sure she wasn’t afraid for Spike. By abducting Angel’s son he’d overstepped the bounds, and anything that came upon him he’d done to himself. No, it was Angel she was afraid for. He might be determined to kill Spike, but she wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it as easily as everyone expected.

There might not be love lost between blond and dark-haired vampire, but they’d spend many years together, and despite their mutual protests, they shared a connection. What else could explain why Angel hadn’t killed his grand-childe already? Because one thing she knew for certain, Angel was the stronger of the two and in a battle to life and death there could be only one winner. And it wouldn’t be Spike. And Buffy had a certain feeling that the blond vampire knew that as well.

“N-nothing. Well, the same actually. The baby is fine. Or as f-fine as it can be expected.” Tara gave Angel a compassionate gaze, tried a small smile. “But unfortunately the spell doesn’t give us the h-house.”

“Well, we could do…,” Willow trailed off the moment the words had slipped out of her mouth. She gulped hard, a panicked expression entering her eyes. “I mean … nothing,” she turned away, her hands clenched into tight fists. “Absolutely nothing.” Instantly Tara was beside her, wrapping her up in her arms, holding her, whispering soothing words.

Cordelia quickly looked away, clearing her throat before she spoke, “Okay, so we have to search all the houses over there.” She nodded at the two blocks of old houses that had been built about a hundred years ago and been abandoned along with the warehouses eighty years later. Cordelia wasn’t sure if the reason was the increasing demonic activity around the old warehouses or just because the architect had obviously been a man with a challenged vision. The brunette wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen more ugly buildings in her life.

“Yes,” Buffy nodded, her eyes on Angel. “I suppose it would be best if we’d search in groups.”

Angel nodded too, his gaze scanning the surrounding. “Agreed. We go in three groups. Gunn, Cordy, you go together. But stick together under any circumstances. And call the moment something seems suspicious. I know you know how to fight vampires,” Angel cut off the African-American who was about to protest. “But Spike is different. We don’t know if his chip is still working. And Dru might seem insane, but she’s very strong, and absolutely evil. She won’t hesitate to kill you. Not for a second.”

“I know,” Cordy replied, putting a comforting hand on his arm, ignoring the way he flinched at the touch. She had never seen him so tense before. Or maybe she had, she thought, remembering several incidents when Buffy’s life had been in danger. Now his son’s life was in jeopardy. She let her eyes wander from vampire to Slayer then back to vampire. She also remembered a time when Angel had been captured by Spike and Dru. She’d seen the Slayer’s eyes then. They’d been a lot like Angel’s were right now.  It really said a lot, a lot more any of them would be ready to admit. 

“Okay,” Angel nodded again. “Xander, you go with Dawn. What I said to Gunn and Cordy goes for you, too. Willow is with Buffy, Tara comes with me.” The blond witch smiled at him, then nodded.

“Whatever you find, call either Buffy or me. And in any case if one of you finds Spike, I want to know.”

“The same goes for me,” Buffy retorted, hoping he’d get the message.

He stared at her for a long moment, then at last he nodded, telling her he’d understood. He held her eyes a while longer, and Buffy felt something clicking between them, something she’s missed for the past 24 hours. Then with another terse nod, he turned and with Tara on his heels, he faded into the night.

*****

“Where the hell are they?”

Knowing she could have very well spoken to herself, Lilah began to pace, wholly aware of how ridiculous it had to look. But she was neither really interested how she might look that very moment, nor could she see anyone actually coming into the graveyard after dark. People might deny the existence of demons and vampires, but that didn’t mean they were stupid enough to risk their lives. And living in Sunnydale had certainly taught people one of two things about surviving.

God, she hated dealing with vampires, and she was silently cursing Clive Hollis for preferring to stay in the car. At least he could have presented a possibility to talk, something she couldn’t and wouldn’t expect of the four muscled bodyguards Wolfram & Hart had appointed to the task of guarding her. Or rather, the baby. Lilah wasn’t delusional about her own worth compared to that of Angel’s son. She knew without a doubt that the firm would sacrifice her if it ever came to it. Not that she was easy to replace, she’d been with the firm too long, knew too many things, was responsible for too many projects. But that didn’t mean they’d mourn for her either.

Sighing, she ran a weary hand through her hair. She was dead tired, which – regarding the fact that she was standing in the middle of a cemetery – did bear a certain amount of irony. Lack of sleep certainly wasn’t one of the advantages of her job. She’d probably age long before her time, but fortunately with the kind of money she earned she could afford paying for one of the best plastic surgeons in the country. And the fact that one of Wolfram & Hart’s sub-companies was the best in the development of artificial skin didn’t hurt either.

“Anything?,” she turned towards her companions.

“Identification negative,” the first replied. He was a well muscled beach-boy type, strikingly blond and tanned, and yet there was nothing human about him. His brain was a fast-track computer, his skeleton well oiled steel, and the skin and muscles stretching across it the latest brain-child of Skin Care, the firm that would take her of her early wrinkles when the time came.

“Negative,” she echoed, a frown marring her forehead, her foot tapping impatiently on the earth that had seen many of a vampire rising. “Negative,” she repeated, this time with more force, anger slowly creeping up her body. “Where the hell are you, Spike?,” she asked the night air, knowing very well that a vampire wasn’t notoriously reliable. It was a damn nuisance dealing with them, yet she hoped, very much for her own sake, and against hope, that this one was special. The partners wouldn’t take it too kindly if she screwed up this special project. It was too important for them, for their cause.

Unconsciously she balled her hands into fists. Spike would pay dearly if he played her in this one. He would curse the day he was born.

 Part 24

“I’m not sure this was a good idea.”

Buffy heard the slight tremble in Willow’s voice, as the witch was walking by her side. She knew her friend was still scared, trying to get over her magic addiction proved to be much more difficult than any of them had thought, well any of them except Giles, that is. But the watcher wasn’t here anymore, he had left off for the white shores of England. Or was it the white cliffs of Dover? Buffy sighed inwardly. It really didn’t matter right now. But she wasn’t sure if she could deal with Willow’s problems on top of Connor’s abduction, and her own problems that hadn’t miraculously disappeared either.

There was something that passed between her and Angel before Buffy was sure she hadn’t just imagined it, but that still didn’t mean she knew where they were standing. Angel had followed her from the Bronze, and it had seemed as if he was sorry for behaving the way he had in her kitchen that one morning, but it didn’t mean either that they were together, or … anything at all. With Connor suddenly missing, all their private problems had come to a sudden halt, had to wait – as always – until the demonic problems were solved. Of course this time they kind of mingled into each other. The fact that Connor was in the middle of everything made this case a lot more personal than any of them wanted.

Buffy heard Willow take a deep breath beside her, and stopped, forcing her friend to do the same. “Will,” she put a hand on the redhead’s arm, “I know this is hard for you, or rather I don’t, but … Can we try and focus on the Spike and Drusilla problem for now? I need your help there.”

“I know,” the witch’s voice wasn’t quite steady. “I know that, Buffy. But … God, I don’t know if I can. Whenever I see something even remotely related to magic … you can’t believe what happens inside me. Everything starts to tremble, and there is this horrible pull, as if …,” she trailed off, shrugged helplessly. “I thought with Tara coming back to me, I would be alright soon, and it worked the first days, but now … it seems worse. When Tara did the location spell this morning …  I almost lost it. In the kitchen, while making tea, I could smell the herbs, could feel the magic energy hum through the house…,” she took a deep breath, her frightened orbs not quite steady either, “I just don’t want to be a nuisance tonight. I don’t want you to have to look out for me. So maybe I should go back and-“

“No,” unconsciously Buffy tightened her hold on her friend’s arm, but instantly loosened it when the witch winced. “Willow, even if you can’t use magic, you know how to fight. Remember, you helped before you even started using magic, back in high school.” Then considering it for a moment, she added with a sheepish smile, “You did, didn’t you?”

That forced a smile from Willow as well, “Yeah, I did. And Xander, too. We helped. But now … what if … Buffy, what if I freeze, what if they use magic and I can’t resist-“

“How about not crossing the bridge until we’re there?,” Buffy asked right back. “Dru might be psychic, but she’s never used actual magic as far as I know. And Spike,” she snorted slightly, “I can’t see him burning herbs and stuff. He’s a little too down to earth for it.”

“I guess,” the witch replied, but Buffy could see she wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Willow,” the Slayer locked her gaze with her friend’s, “I know this is hard for you, well, maybe I don’t, but …,” she sighed, “Connor is missing. Spike has taken an innocent little baby, Angel’s son. We need to get him back, and in order to do it we need all the help that is available, which includes you.”

After a moment, the redhead nodded, “Okay. Alright. I can see we need every pair of eyes and maybe hands, but I’m afraid. Buffy, I’m so scared.”

“I know.” Not contemplating her next move, Buffy simply wrapped her arms around the witch, holding her close, “I know, Willow.” Then she pulled back, but kept a grip on the other woman’s arms, “But you can do it. You’re strong. Okay?”

“Okay.” Willow’s voice was hoarse, a shine of moisture in her eyes. “Thanks.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for,” the blonde grinned. “Next time I’m down you can do the strong shoulder thing.”

“Okay,” Willow nodded, and managed a small smile. “And now, let’s find Connor.”

“Yes,” Buffy’s grin widened. “That’s the spirit. Let’s check out that house.”

*****

“You know what, I really, really don’t like this.” Dawn came to sharp stop at Xander’s side, her eyes on the old white building in front of them. “I mean, here we go, searching for Spike so that Angel can kill him for abducting Connor. I mean, I understand that Spike did something horrible, but…,” she trailed off, not able to hide the hitch in her voice, and somehow not even wanting to.

Xander stood as well, not quite sure what to say. He wasn’t so happy to be paired up with the Slayer’s sometimes sulky sister, but he was at a loss of how to react to her outburst. For one, he didn’t share her feelings regarding a certain bleached blond vampire. Not that he really liked the killing part of Angel’s and Buffy’s job … oh, wait, most of the time he did like it. Ridding the world of another demon who would probably suck Xander’s blood it if it could, was a definite plus in his book. Besides that,  well, he simply didn’t like vampires. Period. Spike was one – the soulless kind – and just because he’d helped them now and then – and Xander still wasn’t convinced it had come out of the goodness of Spike’s undead heart, the way Dawn obviously was – it didn’t change that most important point.

He was aware of the fact that the others had started seeing Spike more as an ally, even as a friend, he thought shooting Dawn a quick glance, but these kind of thoughts had never entered his mind. He already had a hard time accepting Angel, because of his lack of a pulse and circulation, but the dark-haired vampire at least felt guilty for what he’d done, while Spike never lost a minute of sleep over one of his victims. Xander might have joked with Spike, even fought with him side by side at one or two occasions, but that didn’t change what the blond was. A soulless demon, only waiting to have his chip removed so he could go back to his old pattern and kill people on a regular basis.

“Well.” He was pulled back into reality when he found Dawn staring at him. “What do you say?,” the teenager asked, hands on hips. The gesture was so much like her big sister that the idea that these two were not really related seemed suddenly ridiculous.

Knowing he was walking on shaky ground here, Xander sighed, “What I think, Dawnie, is that Spike took a human baby. And in my book it makes him the bad guy, with big red flags on.”

“Sure,” Dawn admitted grudgingly, frowning at the man in front of her. She knew Xander held no love for the blond vampire, yet she’d had the feeling the two of them had bonded over fights and research. Right now she wasn’t so sure anymore. “I mean, yeah. I can see it was wrong, but …,” she bit her lip, “Maybe …,” her eyes suddenly lit up when an idea began to form in her head, “We know Drusilla is psychic, right. Maybe she .. forced him to do it. It could be, couldn’t it?”

No, it couldn’t, Xander thought. Spike knew Drusilla far too well to fall for her tricks, and besides, he was a vampire. Could a vampire even get hypnotized? But there was so much hope in Dawn’s eyes, he didn’t have the heart to stomp them into the dirt. Instead, he tried the reasonable big brother routine, he’d been practicing with her before, “Dawn, we all know how much Spike hates that chip in his head, right? And I think he would do almost all … no, make that all he could, to have it removed. So if you’re asking me, and you just did, I think he was at least a big part of this.”

“But Dru-“

“I know she is here, and she was also the one who hurt Fred and Wesley, but … I don’t know what she should gain by abducting Connor. Besides she’s a little too bonkers in my book to cook this up all on her lonesome. No,” he shook his head, “Spike is the only one gaining the most from it. If they remove his chip he can go back to his old ways, the one he’s so hung up on.” He shivered inwardly at the picture that rose in his mind. The idea of the old Spike running free wasn’t all too tempting. And he could still feel Dru’s prolonged canines scratch the sensitive skin of his neck.

The teenager looked at him for a long time, then a sadness he hadn’t seen before, settled in her eyes, “So,” she said finally, her voice tight, “you don’t think he has changed?” She remembered the way Spike had scared her in the crypt only some days ago, and was afraid she had her answer. But a part of her simply wasn’t ready to accept that, to give up on the vampire she’d come to see as a trusted friend and ally, sometimes almost as a big brother, a part of her rapidly decreasing family. “Anya has changed,” she added, hoping Xander would understand, and finally come to her way of thinking, “She still does. You said it yourself.”

“Spike can’t change,” Xander said patiently, hating the fact that he was the one chosen for this conversation. Wasn’t this the talk you had with your big sister, the responsible parent-replacement? Not that Buffy had been all that great in that special department lately, but still. He wasn’t a responsible adult, was he? He still had problems wrapping his mind around his upcoming wedding. Yet, standing here with the Slayer’s sister, he realised, he didn’t really have a choice. Dawn was hurting now, needed answers, and she couldn’t wait until big sis could squeeze some time between the hours of world savage for a little heart to heart.

“Spike is a vampire. He is a demon inside. He might have the memories of a human, even look human most of the time, but there is no … human core. Even if he tried,” he paused, put a comforting hand on Dawn’s shoulder, “He can’t change what he is. It’s his nature to be evil.” He paused for a moment, “Anya on the other hand … well, she might still think about her demon days, and it’s kind of understandable, after having been one for over thousand years, but she’s trying. Spike … I admit I didn’t follow him as closely but so far I haven’t seen any hard trying on his side.. and the bottom line is Dawn, he’s still a demon, while Anya … is not.”

She seemed to consider that for a moment, before she spoke, “He saved my life,” she said slowly, “He let Glory beat him up and never gave her my name. Doesn’t that count?”

“It does,” Xander replied quickly, and maybe it really did. But only so far. “Up to a certain point. But he’s turned against us now, it doesn’t matter anymore that he once did good, if you can even call it that.” Inwardly he’d always guessed Spike’s goal had been getting into Buffy’s good graces and finally into her pants, but of course he would never tell Dawn that. So he settled for repeating what he’d already told her. “Right now he is a threat to the life of a baby. We really don’t have a choice - *he* didn’t give us one by acting that way.” Xander suddenly felt himself propelled backward to the time when Angelus had roamed the streets of Sunnydale, and how Buffy had not been able to kill him up to the very end. At least, he thought grimly, she wasn’t romantically involved with the homicidal killer this time.

Again Dawn seemed to consider his words, “I can understand that, I guess, but … I … I don’t want him dead. Whatever he’s done, I don’t want him dead.” She still had a problem digesting that her last date had been on a blood-diet as well, and was now scattered to pieces. The idea of Spike’s ashes floating around in the air as well made her stomach churn.

She looked up at Xander, but he had turned his concentration back on the house in front of them, obviously impatient to get on with the search. It seemed with the exception of herself, that everyone was eager to reduce Spike to a pile of ashes. “But I suppose I’m not going to have a say in this, huh?”

Xander nodded, his compassionate gaze finding hers again, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Yeah,” Dawn tried to swallow over a big lump in her throat, then followed Xander who had already started walking towards the house.

*****

Buffy sighed loudly, ran a hand through her hair, then rubbed her forehead to get rid of the ache that was starting above her right eye. “Now this was as useless as everything we did so far,” she said sighing again.

“Yeah, it was,” Willow agreed, her shoulders slumped. “But you know what, somehow I’m glad we weren’t the ones who found him so far.” She looked at her best friend, glad to find compassion in a pair of hazel eyes.

“I know,” the Slayer replied, her headache intensifying. The fact that she couldn’t really convince herself that killing Spike was a good thing, didn’t really help. God, she hated being in this situation. Why – of all the stupid things to do – did Spike have to go and abduct Connor, do the one thing Angel wasn’t likely to forgive. He was the most forgiving person she knew, and a big part was due to the pile of guilt he was carrying around all the time, but where Connor was concerned he was all father. Guilt didn’t matter. Past sins didn’t either.

“You know what-,” Willow began, but was interrupted by the ringing of Buffy’s cell phone.

The Slayer reached for it and flipping it open, she held it to her ear, only to almost instantly let it drop to ground. Only her supernatural reflexes prevented it from shattering into the pieces on the pavement. By the time she had it again securely in her hand and at her ear, she had managed to get over her initial shock at hearing the voice at the other end. And now anger was starting to rise, threatening to consume her like a rapid fire.

“Who do you think you are, calling me like this?” she barked, ignoring the fact that Willow made a step back, clearly surprised by the Slayer’s sudden fury. “You’ve really got some nerve,” she went on. “No, you are going to listen to me. The only thing I want to know is – and if you want to continue your miserable existence you better answer like lighting – where is Connor?”

 Part 25

„So what exactly did Mr-I’m-stupid-enough-to-abduct-my-grand-sire’s-son say?“ Cordelia’s voice was full of sarcasm, and she didn’t try to hide the disgust in her eyes either. In her book, Spike had already overstayed his welcome on this planet by far and turning him into dust wasn’t happening one moment too early.

“I still can’t believe he actually called you.” Willow was stunned at the sudden turn of events. She’d thought she’d understood. Spike had returned to his evil ways, but his sudden about turn was more than her mind could digest right now.

“He said,” Buffy repeated what she’d told them already, “he wants to give us Connor. Alive and unharmed,” she added hastily, seeing the doubt in Xander’s gaze. “But only if Angel and I will come on our own. And I promised him we would, and that …,” she paused, nervously licking her lips, not looking at anyone directly, “we wouldn’t kill him.” Seeing Angel’s lips draw into two thin, angry lines, a scowl appearing on his forehead, she added quickly, “I was thinking of Connor. Getting him alive is all that counts.” She hoped her voice at least was sounding firm, not as quivery as she felt inside.

“I don’t like it,” Gunn crossed his arms in front of his chest, his imposing height and figure silhouetted by the pale moon. There were no street lamps in this part of town, so they were lucky it was almost a full moon tonight. “This screams trap to me.”

“Exactly,” Cordelia nodded emphatically. “And if we’re right, and I think we are, and Wolfram & Hart are part of this, I can only assume that Connor isn’t the only one of your family they are after.” She let her eyes linger on Angel for a moment longer before she turned them towards Buffy.

“She has a point, you know,” Xander put a gentle hand on Buffy’s arm. “And Gunn, too. This could be a trap.”

“I don’t think so,” the Slayer shook her head, not quite sure how to explain her feelings. She didn’t trust Spike, but somehow he had sounded … sincere. Or as sincere as a guy like Spike could sound. She wouldn’t go as far as claiming to know him. Their romps in the dirt, or in other weird places hardly qualified as knowing, but somehow she thought she’d learned to judge him. Plus, she’d never met anyone in her life whose sense of self-preservation was better developed than Spike’s. If he was offering them Connor there had to be a reason, and she was pretty sure it had to do with saving his own sorry ass.

“I’m not going to trade with Spike for my son,” Angel hissed through gritted teeth.

“He didn’t offer a trade,” Buffy said gently, tried to gaze into Angel’s eyes, but the vampire still refused to look at her, had done so ever since she’d told him about Spike’s phone call. She felt her insides clench at what he might be thinking right now, but she forcefully pushed the fear away, knowing that Connor had to be their first worry, private stuff had to come later. “Not exactly anyway. He said he’d give us Connor. No strings attached.”

“Pah,” Cordelia scoffed. “Spike never did a selfless thing in his life.”

“Actually,” Angel’s voice was soft, barely audible, “he did. For Dru.”

“I’m still voting for finding and dusting him. It’s fast, painless …, “ Cordelia paused for a moment, wrinkled her nose, “Or maybe not, but I couldn’t care less, and most importantly it’s final.”

“I promised him-,” Buffy started, but was cut off my Angel’s furious voice.

“We already know what you promised him.” His eyes were  blazing with anger, but there was something else, something she wasn’t quite able to understand. Was it … jealousy? She couldn’t suppress the sudden stab of joy she felt at the possibility. If he could still be jealous while being worried sick because of Connor…

“I’m with Cordy on this.” Gunn’s arms were still crossed in front of his chest. “It’s a vampire we’re talking about, and, with the exception of one ensouled example,” he quickly glanced at Angel, “I prefer them dead.” His voice was hard, he wasn’t going to leave anyone in doubt how he felt about this. He had managed to accept Angel, barely, but the dark-haired vampire had restricted himself to a diet free of human blood, which in Gunn’s eyes made all the difference.

“Buffy did what she thought was right,” Willow said loyally. “And maybe …,” she paused, then after a moment, “She’s fought with Spike. She knows him best.”

“You really think?” Cordelia looked pointedly at Angel who was staring into the night.

“Okay,” the redheaded witch said, “Maybe she doesn’t.” She glanced at Angel, then sighed, “Okay, I admit, she doesn’t, but … There are thousands of vampires  out there. What does one more or less mean anyway?”

“A thousand people who aren’t going to end up as dinner?”

“As my friend put it so well,” Xander cut it, feeling the tension between witch and seer, for one moment wondering if it had still something to do with old ghosts, then quickly dismissing the thought. “What is one vamp more or less, especially if the one we’re talking about is still wearing a chip that’s preventing him from hurting humans. So all in all I’d say rather let Spike go and dust one that still can bite.”

“Are we s-sure the chip still works?” Tara had asked the question quietly, but instantly all eyes were on her.

“What do you mean?,” Cordelia looked from Tara, to Angel, to Buffy, and back at the blond witch. “Am I missing something important here?”

“I can’t see you missing anything.” Gunn grinned when the seer glared at him. She was just too cute, all indignant, demanding an answer – as if she was the centre of the universe, which – in her eyes – she certainly was. Growing up as the daughter of rich parents she’d learned early how to get everything she wanted, and strangely enough it made her irresistible to him. At least it did now, when working with Angel had taught her more about life she’d probably ever wanted to know. As a result it had softened her edges, and had made her one hell of a woman.

Exchanging a quick glance with Buffy, and seeing the Slayer nod, Tara looked at the brunette, “It has stopped working with Buffy. Spike can hurt her now.”

There was a short silence, then Xander said, “Not wanting to state the obvious, but Buffy – Slayer – very strong … alas not quite so human.” He gave his friend a smile, “Not that it ever mattered to me.”

“Thanks, Xand,” Buffy returned his smile.

“He can’t hurt …,” Cordelia stopped, seemingly digesting the news. Then, suddenly, a frown appeared on her head, before something shifted in her eyes, and gave way to understanding.

Buffy could almost see her adding two and two together, remembering the night not so long ago when Buffy had returned with her clothes torn and rumpled, and when Angel had gone on a rampage of fury, returning equally battered some hours later. The Slayer found her suspicion confirmed when Cordelia turned her gaze towards her. “I see,” the brunette said slowly, “And do we know why Spike can hurt you?”

“No,” the Slayer replied, surprised by the other woman’s attitude. The old Cordelia wouldn’t have been so full of tact and – compassion. Buffy decided that she liked the new one a lot better, and she wondered how much of that attitude was due to Angel, to the values he held so dear and must have rubbed off on his friends as well. “We don’t know,” she went on, “It could be because I’m not really from here, I mean …,” she let her gaze sweep over her friends, realising not with a little amount of joy the startled faces. They had already forgotten she wasn’t their Buffy.

“There is another possibility,” Tara’s quiet voice continued where the Slayer had left off, “Maybe coming back from Heaven, Buffy isn’t as complete as we thought.” She paused for a moment, took her lover’s hand, before she said, “We still don’t know what the magic used to bring her back might have done.”

“Buffy is still the same,” Angel said suddenly, his voice soft and gentle. “She might come from another dimension, but to me-,” he stopped himself before he would blurt out things he couldn’t think about right now – not with Connor’s life still in jeopardy, not after he’d hurt her, maybe unforgivably so. Besides he was too irritated with her right now, her attitude where Spike was concerned. Why on earth was she so bent up on saving his life? He was an evil vampire for goodness sake. Because he’s been her lover, because they share a past and memories, a little voice inside his head whispered. Think about Dru, think about how you failed killing her. Think about Darla. You let her go that night, knowing perfectly well that nothing had changed. That she would go out and kill again.

Realising that the others, including Buffy, were looking at him, waiting for him to continue, he took a deep breath, and pushed thoughts about Buffy away. Now his voice was pure steel and determination, “Alright, where does he want to meet us?” His question was directed solely towards the Slayer, the others around him forgotten for the moment. He really didn’t want to hear about Spike’s chip, or think why Buffy wanted to spare him, all he was interested in was getting his son back. He tried to convince himself of this, knowing very well that he was lying shamelessly. But one thing was true, he wanted Connor back, needed Connor back. And before Wolfram & Hart could touch him with their filthy hands.

“At the cemetery. Restfield,” Buffy told him, forcing a smile on her lips. It died quickly, when Angel looked right through it. “In an hour. He’s going to bring the baby and … well, we’re getting him.” Realising how that sounded, she added, “Connor, I mean, we’re going to get Connor.”

“Sure we will,” Willow nodded as if to assure herself, “You go and meet with him. We’ll be your backup.”

“No.” Angel’s voice was sharp and held just a little bit of panic, Buffy noticed. “Nobody will come with us. We’re going on our own.”

“And there I thought the lonely hero act was so over.” Cordelia rolled her eyes, but it was more for show than anything. Inside she was quivering. “Didn’t you listen to one word we were saying before. Does the word ‘trap’ ring a bell in there?”

“His words were very specific,” Buffy replied, exchanging a look with Angel. She was glad to see agreement in his eyes.

“I might not like the whole thing, but Buffy is right,” the vampire’s voice was firm. “Spike might not be the brightest vampire around, but it’d be foolish to think he’s bluffing. He only seems funny sometimes, but believe me, I know the guy. He’s evil. He’s vicious. And he won’t hesitate to kill Connor. He’d snap his neck without a further thought.”

He heard a startled gasp, and his eyes fell on Dawn who had been so quiet that they’d almost forgotten her presence. Now she was staring at Angel with wide eyes that showed horror and pain, and the faintest trace of disbelief.

Angel made a step towards her, hated to see her move away the same moment. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. He’d always liked Buffy’s sister, even if she wasn’t real, even if she hadn’t really existed. But his memories were real. Dawn was part of his past, more importantly he was part of his and Buffy’s past. Well, actually his and the other-  But he kept forgetting it. In fact, he hadn’t thought about it for a long time now, only the discussion about Spike’s chip had brought everything back.

Rubbing a weary hand over his eyes, he sighed inwardly, then forced himself to concentrate on a pair of troubled eyes, still staring at him. But before he could speak, it was Buffy who approached her sister. “Dawnie,” she held out a hand, “Angel didn’t-“

She was cut off before she could finish, “No.” Dawn shook her head emphatically, “Don’t. He meant it, meant every word of it. And the others did, too.” She let her accusing eyes rest on all of them. Because Spike had abducted Connor, and after all Xander had told her tonight, she’d tried, she had really tried. And she still remembered the meeting with Spike in his crypt, the strange way his eyes had glowed in the semi-darkness, the way his voice had turned sly, calculating. But try as she might, she couldn’t forget that he’d saved her life, that he’d helped her sister, that he’d resisted Glory’s torture. And she couldn’t forget all the times he’d protected her, listened to her, when nobody else seemed to be interested in the foolish thoughts of a growing teenager.

“You all hate Spike,” Dawn’s voice became shrill, “And you talk about him as if … as if he’s nothing but an evil vampire. But he’s not,” she shouted, stomping her foot on the ground, tears spilling from her eyes, “He’s not. I know, he’s not. I k-kn-now h-he is n-not.” Her shouting deflated into a tortured sob, and she covered her face in her hands, her voice muffled, “H-he is not. H-he is my f-friend.”

“Oh, Dawnie,” Buffy instantly wrapped her arms around her little sister, holding her, even though the girl’s body became stiff in defiance. But after a moment she softened, letting herself sink into Buffy’s arms, letting her sister soothe her, hold her.

“He’s my friend,” the girl sobbed in the Slayer’s neck.

“I know,” Buffy said softly, stroking her sister’s trembling back. “I know. And you are right,” she took a deep breath, steeled herself against the disapproval she would see in Angel’s eyes at her next words. But they had to be said, her sister needed them, and somehow she needed them too. “He isn’t just a vicious killer,” she said slowly, but firmly. “He is … different. He is not like Angel, and Angel is right, Spike won’t hesitate to kill, but it’s part of what he is. He can’t change it. And yes, he helped us. And he certainly acted like your friend.”

God, it was good to say it, even though Buffy didn’t believe everything. But it was a lot better than thinking that she’d let a merciless killer make love to her. No, not love, she amended quickly, sex. They’d had sex. Just sex. Meaningless, animalistic, and- She sighed, no that was a lie as well. She might not love Spike, had never loved him, and she’d also not made love to him, or he to her, but it was still more than  just meaningless romping in the dirt. He might not have done it because he cared for her, although Buffy still preferred to think he had, but he’d still helped her. When she’d been close to giving up, when she’d thought nothing made sense anymore. His presence had helped, his words had soothed, and even the animalistic rutting their having sex was most of the time had helped her to keep herself together, not to lose it, not to give up. For that she would be always grateful.

And it would also make it impossible for her to kill him. Now, with her sister in her arms, sobbing because of said vampire, it was devastatingly clear. She wouldn’t be able to raise a stake and push it through Spike’s undead heart. And she wouldn’t let anyone else do it either. She might have been angry when Spike called her, but deep inside she’d been flooded by relief that he’d offered them the child, hoping that this unexpected move would save the blond vampire’s life in the end.

She still didn’t dare to look at Angel though. The vampire probably wouldn’t understand her, couldn’t understand her, she thought with a heavy heart. Angel was first and foremost Connor’s father. Plus Spike and Angel’s relationship had never been an easy one and there had never been any love lost between them. But somehow – and Buffy had never quite understood why – they’d more or less tolerated each other, and even though they’d both said killing the other would be a pleasure, that they hated each other with passion, neither had gone through with it. The one time Spike had been ready to sacrifice Angel for Dru didn’t really count, she told herself. It had been Angel or Dru, and knowing Spike the way she did now, he hadn’t had a choice in the matter.

Finally she pulled back, carefully keeping her eyes on Dawn, who was sniffling now, but the heavy sobs had subsided. “We have to go now,” she said, giving her sister a small smile. “We need to get Connor.” Looking deeply into Dawn’s eyes, she cupped Dawn’s cheek in her palm, “This is about Angel’s son. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” the girl nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “I understand.”

“Good.” Buffy let go of her sister, then taking a deep breath she straightened, turning from sister into Slayer mode. “Okay. Angel and I are going to do this. We’re going to get Connor. I want you all,” she let her eyes wander from one to the next, “to go to my house and stay there. Don’t follow us. Think about Connor – this is about his life.”

“Hey, who made you the-“

“Not now, Cordy,” Angel interrupted the seer, his voice pure steel. “This is serious.” He too, was avoiding looking at Buffy. Her words had cut deep, the feeling that she really did care for Spike had cut even deeper. Knowing that she’d had sex with the vampire was one thing, but this- No, he forced himself to concentrate. He couldn’t think about it. Not now. This was about Connor. And nothing else was important right now. Whatever Buffy was feeling for Spike had to wait until the matter at hand was resolved, until his son was back safely in his arms. “You will do as Buffy said. Go back to her house. And stay there.” Like Buffy he let his eyes wander from one friend to the next. “Understood?”

After one moment the others nodded, and grudgingly obeyed. Dawn’s eyes were still bright with tears, while Cordy’s were very dry, and she wasn’t happy with the turn of events. The seer didn’t trust Spike anymore than he did, but Buffy was right. Spike had Connor and he had set the terms for this, and in order to get his son back alive, he could do nothing but obey. Everything inside of him resented it, resented being forced to trust Spike, a vampire who’d never been reliable in his whole life. But for Connor he would do it, and he would also try to forget thinking about Buffy, and the emotions he’d heard in her voice when she’d talked about Spike.

At least he would try.

If he would succeed was an entirely different problem.

Part 26

“What a sight for my old, weary eyes. The Slayer and her pet vampire.”

Angel stopped instantly at hearing the well known voice, and he felt Buffy doing the same beside him. “Spike,” he said, slowly turning around. The blond vampire was standing only a few feet away, his posture casual, his face relaxed, he was leaning against an old headstone. He was in tune with the image he obviously wanted to create. Like every self-respecting vampire he’d learned that choosing the right attitude was half-winning the battle. He looked as if he’d met them in the cemetery by accident, as if he’d be in charge, completely superior – he had Connor after all – but he hadn’t been able to control the expression in his eyes, Angel realised with more than just a little satisfaction. They were intense, watching even the smallest of their movements.

“No greeting from you, Slayer?,” Spike raised a brow at Buffy, but she didn’t react, just looked at him in a way that made him suddenly uncomfortable. “Well,” he quickly turned his gaze back to his grand-sire – it was safer anyway, and made more sense. It was the big Poof’s brat after all. “So you came, Angel.”

“Where is my son?,” the dark-haired vampire demanded, but didn’t move, didn’t do anything that could threaten Spike.

“He is safe. Cries a lot, the little bugger, but so far he’s … alive.” He chuckled softly, in a way Buffy remembered from more intimate meetings. She was glad it was dark, because she felt herself blush furiously.

Angel’s eyes narrowed instantly, “Did you leave him with Dru? You of all people should know that she isn’t reliable.”

“Yeah, I know. I wonder whose fault that is,” he added, enjoying the flash of guilt that flickered through his grand-sire’s eyes.

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Buffy interrupted, finally finding her voice. It was one thing to try to save Spike’s life, but she wouldn’t allow him to insult Angel, or worse, hurt him, at least no more than he already had. And whose fault is that, the little voice in her head asked. You were the one who slept with Spike, that’s what hurt Angel. But, I thought he was dead, she tried to defend herself. And this Angel … I didn’t even know him before he came to Sunnydale. All true, the little voice replied, but it still hurt him. Deeply. And I’m not talking about the sex.

No it hadn’t been the sex, Buffy thought. It had hurt him more to listen to her defend Spike, to talk about him as if she cared, as if the blond vampire did mean something to her. The problem was, he did. She wasn’t exactly sure what, but she couldn’t deny it either.

Taking a deep breath she pushed the thoughts aside, concentrated on the matter at hand, “Dru’s a vampire. An insane vampire. And you left a baby with her? A helpless child?”

“She won’t hurt him. She always loved children,” Spike defended himself.

“Yeah, she loved them to death,” Angel said dryly, glad he was able to hide the fear he felt at the thought of Connor in Dru’s care. He’d seen enough of her ‘love’ for children, or puppies for that matter, to know that it was a lethal gift for anyone who was unlucky enough to receive it.

“As interesting as it is to hear about Dru’s motherly instincts, what I’d really like to know is where she is – or rather where the baby is. So where is Connor, Spike? You said you’d give him to us, in exchange for your life.”

“That’s not quite true, babe,” the blond vampire replied, grinning openly when he saw Angel stiffen at the endearment. The grin slipped, however, when he saw Buffy putting a comforting hand – no it was more like a loving caress – on Angel’s arm. “I said,” he went on, trying to ignore the sudden fury he felt at the idea of them as a couple. It was one thing knowing that she’d always love Angel, that she’d never love him, Spike, but seeing them like this was something entirely different. Thankfully years of travelling with Angelus and Dru had taught him how to suppress his anger, how to hide his hurt, and to act casual and in control, and it came very handy now. “I said,” he repeated, “that I’d give you the baby in exchange for a little favour and our – I repeat, our, meaning me and Dru – safe departure.”

Buffy drew a sharp breath, felt the muscles in Angel’s arm tighten underneath her fingers, “A little favour? You never mentioned anything like that before?”

“I didn’t?” Spike shrugged, seemed completely unruffled by her anger. “Well, maybe I forgot.” He sniggered, “But then, it’s really nothing, just … a friendly favour.”

“Be careful, Spike,” Angel gritted out between clenched teeth.

“Oh, but I am,” the vampire said flippantly, “I have your son, haven’t I. That’s the best life-assurance you can get these days.” He reached into his pocket for a cigarette, then remembered he’d forgotten to steal new ones, and the hand came back empty. “You don’t happen to have a good smoke, do you Angelus?”

“No,” the word was a mere hiss from his grand-sire, and Buffy let her hand slide down from Angel’s arm, taking his hand instead, squeezing it. She heard Angel take a deep breath, and managed to relax a little. But just a little.

“You know I don’t smoke, Spike,” Angel said, his voice calmer now.

“Yeah, I remember,” the blond vampire sighed dramatically. “God you are a bore, Angel.” The word sounded like an insult, and in Spike’s eyes it probably was, Buffy mused. For him, having a soul had to be like a true abhorrence. “I remember a time though, when you had a thing for opium,” Spike went on, his voice deliberately conversational, as if he was talking to a good friend, or an acquaintance he’d met by accident, while he started to walk. “You weren’t as boring then.”

Ignoring the comment, Angel asked, “Where are we going?”

Without turning Spike kept on walking, “You want your son, don’t you?”

Buffy and Angel exchanged a quick glance, then started to follow him.

*****

“I can’t believe it,” Cordelia was pacing back and forth in the Summers’ living room, her hands gesturing wildly in the process. “We let them send us home, like … like some kids, who don’t understand what’s going on. As if … as if we’re stupid. But we are not stupid, we’ve been working side by side for years now. He can’t treat us like that. He can’t.”

“He was simply concerned for Connor,” Gunn had stopped following her agitated motions and had closed his eyes instead. But now he’d opened them, and was looking at her. “This isn’t about us, or you, or Angel, or Buffy. Spike has Connor, and nothing will convince me that he isn’t dead serious about it.”

“Emphasis on dead,” Xander muttered from the spot beside him. “Do you think you can sit down anytime soon?” he asked Cordelia who was standing in the middle of the room now, looked at both of them. “I’m getting a headache.”

“A headache? I wonder what’s in there to start an ache anyway.”

“Hey,” Anya glared at Cordelia from the doorway, “Stop insulting my fiancée. You might be his ex, but you gave up all rights for insults when you dumped him.” The ex-demon entered the room, sitting down on Xander’s lap, smiling. She’d already waited in front of the house when the group had returned from their unsuccessful search.

“And here they say opposites attract,” Cordelia looked at Gunn, “but I suppose there is an exception to any rule.”

“And now you are insulting me,” Anya shot the seer another glare. Then with a sigh, she turned to Xander, “It’s because she’s got no boyfriend,” she stated with the knowledge of 1100 years in her voice, “Women tend to get snippy when men ignore them.”

“Ignore them,” Cordelia made a threatening step towards the ex-demon, “You little-“

“And this would be our clue to leave the lovebirds on their own.” Gunn was up from the sofa quickly, stepping between Cordelia and Anya, winking at Xander, who sent him a grateful look. A catfight between ex- and current girlfriend was definitely not something he was looking forward to. Especially not when there were other things to worry about.

Grabbing Cordelia’s wrists, Gunn pulled her with him, ignoring all her protests, and walked out of the room, through the kitchen and to the back porch, only letting go of her when the door closed behind them.

“Who do you think you are, doing something like this?” she hissed. “But this is just so typical of a man,” she went on, her eyes shooting daggers, “Manhandling a woman, that’s all you can do.”

“I didn’t manhandle you,” Gunn replied quietly, sitting down on the stairs, letting her familiar scent and the night surround him. “Well, maybe I did manhandle you a bit,” he amended,” but…

“A bit,” she gasped indignantly.

“… I did it because you would have regretted it later. You’re not yourself right now.”

“Not myself?,” she asked disbelievingly, “I’m so myself. This little Miss ex-demon had no right to-“

“You attacked her because you are worried sick,” he said, rubbing his neck, “You are angry with Angel because he didn’t ask you to come with him, and you’re angry with yourself because you’re angry in the first place.”

She made a step towards him, then paused, locking her hands at her hips, “And how, Mr I’m-so-wise can you know that?”

He shrugged, but didn’t turn, didn’t look at her, “I’ve been watching you lately…”

“Watching me?”

He shrugged, went on as if she hadn’t spoken,“… it’s logical.”

“Logical?,” she took another step towards him, then after considering it for a moment, she sat down beside him, “Logical, how? And if you’re even try to hint on something,” she paused, took a deep breath, “I know – I mean, I’ve noticed the way Fred is looking at me lately. And at Angel. But there is nothing between us. Not,” she added quicky, “that it’s any of your business if it were, but … well, it’s none of your business.”

To her surprise he started to chuckle, “Believe me, I wasn’t about to hint anything like that. And if you want to know why, it’s because I got to know Angel. Even if you tried – and I’m not saying you did, but even if – Angel wouldn’t be interested. Not now. Not ever. I’ve seen the way he’s looking at Buffy. He tries to hide it, but it’s painfully obvious. And to think she’s not even the Buffy he’s known.” He chuckled again, “God, the guy’s really got it bad.”

Although the biggest part of her was relieved with his answer, was glad he hadn’t harboured any ideas of her and Angel  in a romantic way, there was also that tiny, little part, that part that was thoroughly woman that was miffed, “What do you mean he could never be interested in me?”

Now Gunn turned his head, his eyes dark and intense, making her shiver, “Still bugs you, huh?” His teeth gleamed in the moonlight, “But you can’t tell me you’re that oblivious. As a matter of fact, I’d say you’ve known what’s going to happen the moment Tara walked into our door. That’s the reason you were so dead against going from the start. You didn’t want him to get hurt.”

God, he seemed to know her in and out, Cordy thought, but surprisingly it didn’t make her uncomfortable as it normally would, but save, warmed her inside. “She’s hurt him before,” she said after a moment, running a hand through her hair, “Badly. And … he had a hard time getting over it. I mean, yeah, he left her, but …,” she stopped, looked at the pale moon, thought about Angel, and Buffy, and their family in L.A. “He’s always been in love with her. Even when he tried to deny it. And because of it, she has power. Over him. And over us.”

“He’s not going to abandon us. He’s not going to abandon you.”

“You can’t say that,” she bit her lip, her forehead marred with a frown, “You haven’t seen them. He died for her, he let himself turn back into-“ She stopped herself just in time, before she was going to blurt out something Doyle had told her in strict confidence. A pang of pain surged through her when she thought about the half-demon. She hadn’t let herself think about him for a long time, mostly because it hurt too much to do so. He was one of those who had to die too young, too early. He’d died before he’d been able to really live his life, before they’d had a chance to explore feelings that were just blooming between  them.

“He is not going to abandon us,” Gunn repeated, and there was absolute certainty in his voice. “I know he had a set-back with Darla, but it’s not going to happen again. Whatever’s going to happen, he will not just leave.”

“Interesting to hear that from a guy who once said Angel could never be his friend.” There was a slight smile playing around her lips, and her eyes were smiling, too.

“Yeah, well,” rubbing his back again, Gunn cleared his throat, “I’ve learned quite a bit these past weeks. And especially since we came to Sunnydale. If you want to know it, seeing Angel with Buffy has made me believe he’s a lot more human than I thought.”

“I see,” Cordy sighed, “I still hate the way he sent us away.”

“I know,” Gunn reached out and took her hand, glad when she didn’t pull back. “But there’s nothing we can do. Buffy and Angel are strong. They can do this. I’m sure.”

“And were you ever wrong in your life?”

“Plenty,” he replied, squeezing her hand. It felt … right in his. Small, womanly, soft.

Her response was a chuckle that somehow turned into a slight sob. With a weary sigh she leaned her head against his shoulder, “Can’t you just tell me everything will be alright? So I can feel good again, so I can stop worrying?”

“Everything is going to be alright,” he said without hesitation, looking at their entwined hands.

“God,” she chuckled again, her voice a mere whisper, “You’re even a worse liar than Wesley.”

“It’s going to be alright, Cordy. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“Let’s hope so. Because if not, I’m afraid not even Buffy will be able to hold him together.”

*****

“Is this your idea of a joke?”

The six words spoken with barely suppressed fury had the little hairs in Angel’s neck standing up straight. He stopped dead in his tracks, his hand, entwined with Buffy’s the whole time they had followed Spike slipped from her grasp now. “Lilah?” Angel’s voice was low, dangerous, and he was looking at the lawyer, then at Spike, one of his eyebrows slowly climbing up his forehead.

“Not wanting to seem totally oblivious, but huh?” Buffy’s gaze darted from Angel, to Spike, to the woman she’d never seen before. For a moment, when Angel had recognized her, Buffy had felt a sudden pang of jealousy. Not because she thought he and woman shared anything even remotely romantic, but because she was reminded that in this world Angel had a life of his own, a life she – or rather this Buffy – hadn’t been a part of for a very long time. It made her feel sad, and also a little bit angry. With herself, with Angel, and with this other Buffy – a Buffy she’d never met, never known, but who according to her friends, was like her twin.

Did that mean she was like this Buffy? Sadly, she had to admit, she was. She’d asked herself time and again how this Buffy had been foolish enough to let Angel go, to let him walk away, but she’d also seen his stubbornness first hand, that morning in the kitchen when he’d sent her to Riley, when out of the blue he’d decided that there couldn’t be anything between them.

“I suppose that’s your little Slayer, Angel?” Lilah smiled faintly at the tiny blond girl, hardly able to believe that was the powerful saviour of the world everyone seemed so afraid of. But she believed it as soon as she saw the determination in the hazel eyes that were watching her steadily.

Angel sighed, not quite certain what was going on, but liking it less with each passing moment. He knew Spike, unfortunately he knew him only too well. The blond vampire had something cooked up, judging from the smug look he gave Lilah. If this wasn’t about Connor, Angel would have been almost amused, seeing Lilah squirm. And squirm she did, even though she tried her best to hide it. But Angel could hear her increasing heart-rate, could smell the fear on her, the anger pulsing through her veins. “Buffy, Lilah Morgan, a member of Wolfram & Hart, the law firm I told you about. Lilah, Buffy Summers. Can we get on with the program now?” he asked looking at Spike.

“I was just enjoying all the love in the air,” the vampire said with a grin. “Okay, okay,” he gave in, feeling it wasn’t the right moment to antagonize his grand-sire even more. Taking a safer option he turned to Lilah, “Okay, so where is your doctor?”

“Waiting in the car,” Lilah nodded at the dark sedan parked just outside the gates, “He isn’t particularly fond of cemeteries.”

“Is that so?” Spike’s grin widened, “Well, too bad, because you’re gong to get him here and he’s going to perform that little surgery on me, and my friends here,” he nodded towards Buffy and Angel, “will make sure that everything goes as planned.”

 Part 27

“What,” Buffy was sure she had never heard Angel’s voice so dangerous before, so furious, “are you talking about?”

Spike just grinned at his grand-sire’s anger, then shrugged, “You want something from me, don’t you, mate? You want your son.”

“And I suppose this Lilah-chick just came to do you another favour?,” Buffy asked sarcastically, not able to believe this was happening. Had Spike completely lost his mind? Did he really think he could win this hideous charade?

“So to speak,” the blond vampire grinned again. “Would you believe me when I told you that she was seriously interested in my tempting body?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and was about to add something, when he suddenly found himself pressed to a tree, his feet dangling a foot over the ground. “Oi!,” he exclaimed, “no need to get hostile, mate” he croaked, speech becoming an issue with Angel’s hand pressing against his windpipe. A good thing he didn’t need to breathe.

“Be careful, boy,” Angel’s eyes were gleaming yellow in the night, and Spike was reminded of their last meeting where it had taken him over twenty four hours to recover from the beating. “Be very careful.”

He was not going to let Spike do this, Angel thought with barely repressed fury. Spike had always been a cocky bastard, always like this when he felt in control, but he was not going to let him do this to Buffy. Or to him. He was still too raw from Buffy’s declaration of feelings towards Spike. He didn’t think she loved the blond, but it was still enough to make his blood boil and his heart ache. It would be a long time before he forgot the expression in her eyes when she’d talked to Dawn. There had been a warmth in them, Angel wished he had never seen.

“Angel.” Buffy’s voice held a warning, and the dark-haired vampire felt her warm palm settling on his back, causing him to relax almost against his will. “Think about Connor.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Angel pulled himself together, then slowly let go of his annoying grand-childe, not caring when the other vampire slipped to the ground. Buffy was right, this wasn’t about he, or her, or Spike’s cocky attitude. This was about Connor. His son’s life was in danger, and he mustn’t lose his focus here.

“And how,” he was glad his voice sounded calm again, “are you going to convince Lilah of this? Do you really think this will work? Do you think she will just stand by and let you hand over my son?”

“How about we’re going to knock the lawyer and her robot-guards out and then you’ll watch the guy doing his thing with my chip?,” Spike suggested, hoping it was going to be that easy.

“Are you serious?,” Buffy’s voice was full of disbelief. “Have you seen those robots?”

“Afraid, blondie?”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, but before she could say something, Angel stepped between them, “You never knew when to quit,” he hissed at his grand-childe.

“Gentlemen,” Lilah was just returning with the doctor in tow, a small, wiry guy, with gold-rimmed glasses, her speculative gaze wandering from one vampire to the other. “This is the surgeon you asked for,” she told Spike. “Now, where is the child? To tell you the truth,” her focus shifted to Angel, “I never thought you’d give up the boy.” She shrugged, “Well, it’s not my problem. Your new honey doesn’t want to be bothered with another woman’s child, huh?”

“There you are.”

They all whirled around at the voice coming from the darkness, and only moments later Drusilla appeared between two small crypts, a bundle firmly in her arms. A suspiciously still bundle.

Before he could stop himself Angel approached her, his stomach clenching painfully, “What did you do to him, Dru?”

She stopped, caused him to stop as well. He knew her well enough not to make her angry, not to cause her to panic. “Why, nothing. Your baby is asleep.” She sighed dramatically, her red-painted nails curling her long, dark hair, “Finally. He’s been a very annoying baby. And Spike wouldn’t let me have him.” She pouted, “Spike has been mean to me.”

“Dru, what are you doing here?,” the vampire in question asked. “You were to wait in the crypt.”

“It was boooring,” she complained. “You have all the fun here.”

“Why don’t you give me the child,” Angel suggested, his eyes never leaving his childe’s face.

“Give you the baby?,” she asked as if it was something totally incomprehensible for her. “No,” she shook her head almost sadly, “I can’t do that. First you have to remove that nasty chip from Spike’s head.”

“Just so we are clear here,” Lilah’s voice cut through the air, “the baby is mine. We had a deal, Spike. Don’t try to play me.” Angel’s focus shifted to the lawyer who was still standing near by, her eyes glowing with almost fanatical eagerness, but they also showed a deadly determination, an expression Angel knew only too well these days.

“But isn’t that half the fun?” Spike grinned at her, thoroughly enjoying the scene. Or he would have, had his chip been removed already.

“You think you can do this?” Lilah laughed out loud, but there was no lightness in it. It was an angry sound, showing them that she had come for business and intended to conclude the night on her terms. “You are a fool, Spike.”

“Don’t call me that,” the blond vampire hissed, advancing her.

She started to step back, than remembered, “Do you think I’m afraid of you? Not very likely.” That stopped Spike, and a growl emerged from his throat, but she simply laughed. “Oh, poor vampy, all declawed and useless. Must be a real pain.” Then suddenly her focus shifted again, and before any of them could react, she shouted, “Take the child.”

As if they were one, the four artificially muscled men attacked Drusilla, who with a shriek jumped backwards, instantly changing into her game-face, her eyes yellow and demonic, deep growls coming from her body. The bodyguards missed her by an inch, only thanks to her quick reaction, but advanced again.

The same moment Buffy, Angel and Spike managed to shake off their initial surprise, and joined the battle. The bodyguards were strong, but not as strong as they had thought and one after one they fell under the blows of combined vampire and Slayer forces. Seeing the outcome of the battle wouldn’t be in her likening, Lilah joined it, jumping onto Spike’s back, the vampire stumbling backwards under the unexpected attack.

“Bloody Hell,” he growled, “You stupid bitch, let go.”

“Not going to happen,” she hissed, clawing her long nails into the sensitive skin of his skull, making him howl.

Finally shifting into game-face himself, Spike tried to shake her off, but it wasn’t as easy as he thought because the chip prevented him from actually hurting her. Finally he managed, hurling her away from him. She flew through the air, fell against the doctor who had been watching the whole scene with a detached expression on his face, and together they smashed into a tree, their combined weight resulting in a loud crack when they came in contact with the wood.

Meanwhile, Buffy and Angel were on the last of the bodyguards. The robot stumbled backwards, after receiving a hard blow from Buffy and ran into Drusilla who had been leaning against a headstone, watching the scene with glowing eyes. The unexpected impact caused her to stumble and that moment the baby slipped from her arms.

Instantly Slayer and vampire lost interested in the remaining bodyguard whose shape wasn’t the best anyway, Angel’s eyes full of panic in seeing his son fly through the air, but thanks to her quick reflexes, Buffy managed to catch the bundle in mid-air, the baby safely tucked into her arms, careful not to squash the child with her weight while they were rolling over the soft grass. Coming to a halt, she needed a moment to recover. Immediately her eyes were on Connor, but to her utter surprise the child still had his eyes closed, and he was snoring delicately.

“He’s fine,” she shouted, knowing that Angel needed to know. She could only guess what kind of thoughts had been racing through his mind these last moments. Her own heart was beating a mile a minute, the terror of seeing Connor sail through the air, dangerously close to hitting the ground, made her stomach clench painfully.

“You sure.” Angel crouched down beside her, his fingers cautiously touching his son’s face. “God.” She heard him release a shuddering breath, and looked up, to find him looking at her as well. “You sure, he’s alright.”

“Yes, fine. I think he slept through all this.” Buffy managed a smile.

“Thank God,” Angel breathed, running a hand through his hair that was as shaky as Buffy’s smile. “What about you?,” he wanted to know, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Fine. And you?”

“Great,” he replied looking at Connor, “Better than ever.” A smile of his own appeared on his face. But it vanished instantly, when Spike’s voice intruded their moment of intimacy.

“Well, this is all very … disgusting, but can we stick with the plan now. You got your baby, now I want my chip-“ Spike stopped suddenly, and instead of continuing his voice suddenly changed into an angry growl, accompanied by a curse, “Oh, Bloody Hell,” he exclaimed.

Buffy and Angel looked up, and the Slayer saw Spike, kneeling over the huddled forms of Lilah and the doctor, and instantly she saw what had caused Spike’s outraged exclamation. Lilah was lying on top of the surgeon, obviously unconscious, her chest rising and falling with even breaths. For the doctor, however, the outcome of his stumble hadn’t been as harmless. His head was against the tree, his eyes wide open, the neck hanging in an odd angle from the body. Buffy didn’t need to be a surgeon herself to see that it was broken.

“Oh, this is great,” Spike raged, “Absolutely, wonderfully, bloody great. And now?,” he whirled towards Slayer and vampire. “What am I going to do now?”

“Well,” Angel stood slowly, not quite able to hide his amusement, “it seems, now that you killed your chance to remove the chip, you have to live with it.”

“I didn’t kill him,” Spike shouted, his eyes like the stormy sea, “It was … an accident. And this is all your fault,” he hissed at Dru who had been slowly approaching him, but was now shrinking back from his anger. “Why couldn’t you just stay where I told you to. Damn, nothing of this would’ve happened.”

“Don’t be angry, Spike,” the raven-haired vampire approached her childe again, “We’re going to find another doctor for you.”

“*We*’re not going to find anyone. I’ve had it with you, once and for all,” he hissed, shoving Dru away.

“But, Spike,” her voice turned into a whine, “how can you say that? Our love’s meant to be eternal.”

“Eternal, my ass,” Spike shot back, with a look of disgust once again gazing at the dead doctor on the ground. “Why don’t you just leave me alone,” he suggested. “Go.”

“But-,” she pouted.

“Go,” he ordered again. “If you want to live through the night you better go.”

“It is only your fault,” Drusilla whirled around towards Buffy, but she didn’t dare to approach the blonde girl. “His heart stinks of you. Like his,” she pointed at Angel. “You took them from me. All of them.”

“I never was yours,” Angel said quietly but firmly.

“She is mean. And evil,” Dru whined, “You will see it soon enough. But then don’t come running to Dru. Because I will not listen to you.” With a sniff her chin came up, and then, her head held regally high, she disappeared into the night.

Spike sighed, “There she goes. And will hopefully never be seen again.”

“I never thought I’d see that happen,” Angel was more talking to himself. “I knew she dumped you, but that you would send her away.”

“He did it before,” Buffy remarked quietly, her eyes on Spike, whose own eyes were disturbingly intense. Drusilla’s words about Spike’s heart stinking of her were still ringing in her ears. She wished she could dismiss them, but knew it wouldn’t be that easy. “But why did you send her away this time?,” she asked, “She was your ticket to get your chip removed.”

He shrugged, “Who knows. Maybe I’m a fool.”

“No you are not.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Angel muttered beside her, ignoring the dark look Spike shot him.

“Yeah? Well, I am. He is right.” Bloody hell, he had to get out of here, or he’d say something mushy, something to embarrass himself totally and completely. “The lawyer lady,” he looked at Lilah’s still form on the ground, “was really getting on my nerves. I didn’t trust her.”

“Maybe not so stupid after all.”

Spike narrowed his eyes at his grand-sire, “I really hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Angel shot back, looking at the baby in Buffy’s arms. He felt so relieved he was afraid his legs were going to give out any time soon. Maybe that was the reason his urge to kill his blond grand-childe had faded. At least that’s what he liked to believe. Any other … sentiment … was entirely unacceptable.

“This is all very … not so interesting, vampire bonding and stuff-“

“We weren’t bonding,” Spike almost shouted.

“Not at all,” Angel confirmed on a low growl, offended by the mere idea.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Buffy shifted the baby in her arms. The little boy had slept through all the excitement, and he was still sleeping soundly, obviously without any worries in the world. Her eyes finding Spike again, she said quietly, “You should go now.”

“I was not going to betray you,” he replied, ignoring her request. “I said you’d get the baby, and I intended to give him to you.”

“I know,” the Slayer said softly, and Spike drew an audible breath.

“Well,” he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, “I better leave now. It’s been … you know.”

“No, not really,” Angel muttered.

“No, not really,” Spike agreed, the vampires’ eyes meeting for a short moment. Then Spike turned and walked away, but before he had reached the trees, he heard Buffy’s voice calling out to him, and he stopped. Slowly turning around, he saw her coming towards him while Angel, the baby now in his arms, was waiting in the back. It should have given him a kick, Buffy near him, Angel left behind, but it didn’t. He knew only too well that it meant absolutely nothing. “What do you want?,” he asked, his voice not overly friendly.

“I want to ask you to be careful,” she said softly. “And please, Spike, should you find anyone who will remove your chip, please don’t ever come back. I don’t want to be forced to kill you.”

“I’m not sure I can keep the promise, Slayer,” he replied, his eyes so intense, Buffy felt herself burning beneath them.

“I wish you would,” she sighed, “And I want to say thank you.”

“Thank you?” He quirked a brow, not quite understanding.

“For not going through with your initial plan. I know you intended to trade Connor for your chip.”

“Hey, don’t get all mushy now,” he said gruffly, “I didn’t go good all of a sudden. I was simply trying to cover my ass. Lilah Morgan isn’t reliable. And neither is Dru.”

“No, they aren’t,” Buffy agreed. “Still, I’m grateful you brought the baby back. So … take care of you.”

“You do the same, Slayer,” he said, clearing his throat at the end. Damn, he *was* going to embarrass himself. Time to go.

“Yeah,” she gave him a tight smile, then  turned back to Angel and Connor. She didn’t know what that meant at the moment. Nothing between she and Angel had been resolved, but more than ever she knew that she loved him, and this time she wouldn’t let him give up on them, wouldn’t let him turn her back on what they meant for each other. Clause or no, they would find a way to be together. And somehow Willow would find a way to help them. She had in the other dimension, so why shouldn’t she be able to do it here as well?

“Oh, Slayer?”

She stopped, but didn’t turn. “Yeah?”

“Don’t send me any pictures.”

She frowned, “Pictures?”

“You know, the happy family, you and the Poofter, and the little Poofter. I don’t want to see them.”

Buffy nodded, but she didn’t look at him again. She would never forget him, but he was her past, and now she was walking towards Angel, towards her future. Or at least so she hoped.

 Part 28

“I wonder if Darla wasn’t really his mother.” Cordelia looked down at the sleeping baby in Buffy’s arms, her nose scrunched in speculation, her forefinger tipping rhythmically against her chin.

“Not his mother?,” Gunn quirked a brow. “Uhm … hate to state the obvious but we all saw the very pregnant vampire chick. And we all saw her exploding into dust.”

A sigh came from deep within Cordelia, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Where did that come from?,” Buffy looked up from Connor.

The brunette shrugged, “Just … the way he behaved tonight, what you told us, that he slept through all the trouble. It reminds me … well, to be frank it reminds me of you.”

“Me?,” indignation entered the Slayer’s voice. “Do you want to hint that I-“

“I’m simply stating the facts,” Cordelia interrupted her, “As far as I heard you slept right through Angel losing his soul, and I’d call that a major thing. Then, you slept when he went to kill that Mohra-,” she stopped, nervously clearing her throat, “uhm …  I mean … Anyways. You told us you were a sound sleeper, right? And he seems to be one as well.”

Momentarily distracted by Connor’s happy gurgle, Buffy turned her frowning gaze away from the seer and towards the smiling baby, “Hey, feel good now, huh?,” she cooed, shifting him slightly in her arms. “And why not. You slept through all the trouble, and now you’re fed, burped and changed, so everything’s fine in your world.”

“Almost everything,” Cordy cut in, reminding them about the kid’s father, who was absent right now. After caring for his son, he had left him in Buffy’s care, Angel had slipped away from the house, and nobody had asked why. Somehow they had all sensed that he needed some time to calm down, after the strains of the past days. Only Buffy knew that it wasn’t the only problem he needed to brood over.

After turning her back to Spike, she’d gone to Angel, and together they had left the graveyard and walked towards the house. But instead of  talking, something Buffy had silently hoped they would do, Angel had said nothing, not a single word, had almost behaved as if she wasn’t there at all. She knew that her behaviour towards the blond vampire, her words to her sister, had hurt him. But instinctively she knew that they’d needed to be said. Dawn had needed them, Spike had, and she had needed them as well.  She couldn’t let Spike go hating him, didn’t want to live with the feeling that their affair meant nothing.

And in a way, Angel needed to hear and see it as well. They couldn’t go on pretending Spike hadn’t been part of Buffy’s life, hadn’t been her lover. True, she might not have chosen him had she been in her right mind, hadn’t she been convinced Angel was eternally lost to her, but somehow it didn’t matter. The fact remained that she’d slept with Spike, and if she and Angel wanted to have a chance for anything, even if it was only friendship – and she quickly suppressed the pain she felt at the prospect – they needed to be honest with each other. And that meant also facing the Spike-problem head on. Buffy hated the hurt it had caused Angel, seeing the emotions for Spike on Buffy’s face, but she couldn’t be sorry he had seen them.

“Yeah,” she whispered now, stroking a gentle hand over the soft hair on the baby’s head. “But he needs this.”

“I suppose he does,” Cordelia admitted grudgingly. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Gee, he’s got his soul for how long? Shouldn’t he have learned behaving more like a human by now?”

“Maybe, yeah.”

Cordelia looked down at the bent head of the Slayer and that very moment, she decided that there was one thing she had to do, one thing that should have been done a long time ago. Her friend, namely Angel, was much too stubborn to accept that he needed the blond Slayer, and although Cordelia had never particularly liked the Buffy, she wasn’t blind and deef. “Buffy,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Did you ever hear the word Shanshu?”

*****

The nurse smiled when Angel stepped from the elevator, “Mr. … uhm … Angel, right? What a timely arrival.”

“Timely?” Angel raised his brows, not really understanding what she was getting at.

“We were about to call you,” she replied, taking his arm, steering him towards the door to Wesley’s room. “Mr. Wyndham-Price is awake. He woke up two hours ago. We didn’t call you immediately, because the doctor wanted to take a CAT-scan first, to check if everything is fine. He had a major head injury after all,” she chatted on, pushing the door open, “And with this blood loss.” She shook her head, “By my life, I’ve worked in New York before, and we had a lot of weird cases, but this town really tops it all. Never saw so many patients with blood loss in my life. And then these puncture wounds…,” she shook her head again, “Fortunately I’m a little too down to earth for mystery and stuff, but a more suspicious person could think that Count Dracula suddenly came to life.” She laughed brightly at her own (not so) silly joke, then nodded at the bed. “Here we are now. Mr. Price, there’s a visitor for you.”

“Angel, so good to see you,” Wesley croaked from the bed.

“Don’t stay too long,” the nurse warned, “The patient is still very weak. He needs a lot of sleep.” With a final nod she left, silently closing the door from the outside.

“Wes,” the vampire looked down at the ex-watcher, and tried to hide his shock at the sight. He had seen Wesley in Buffy’s house, and shortly after the ambulance had brought him here, but now with black and blue bruises covering his face, his nose crooked after having been broken, his both eyes swollen shut, and the obvious proof for a vampire’s attack clearly visible at his neck, Angel had a hard time recognizing him as his friend. “How do you feel?”

“Awful,” the Englishman replied hoarsely, struggling to sit up a little bit.

“Easy,” Angel warned, rushing to his side, helping him to sit, and arranging the pillows in his back. “Better?”

“Yeah,” the ex-watcher nodded gratefully, then stifled a wince when he felt his sore ribs.

“Good to have you back amongst the living,” Angel made the lame attempt of a joke. “You had us worried for a while.”

“I wasn’t so thrilled with my situation either,” Wesley replied, smiling at the vampire. Then, suddenly serious, he asked, “What about Connor?”

“He is safe. We know Dru and Spike kidnapped him, Fred told us everything, and tonight we got him back. Unharmed. In fact, he obviously slept through most of the ordeal.”

“Thank god,” the Englishman released a breath of relief. “I am so sorry this happened. So sorry we couldn’t protect him.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Angel put a comforting hand on the ex-watcher’s arm, noticing how agitated the other man was getting. “I should have insisted staying with him. Or Buffy. All in all we can be glad that Spike got him and that, for whatever reason, he decided to give him to us and not to Lilah Morgan.”

“So Wolfram & Hart were part of this. No surprise there.” Wesley sighed, “They’ve got their dirty fingers in everything.”

For a while silence settled between the two men, every one of them hanging on their own thoughts.

Finally it was Wesley who asked, his voice as soft as the night, “How is Buffy?”

A bit startled, the vampire’s head came up, “Fine. She’s with Connor. I … I needed some time for myself.”

The ex-watcher’s very wise eyes rested on Angel, “What happened? Any more problems?”

The vampire’s smile was wry, “Aren’t there always?”

“Yes, but usually we deal with them. This seems a bit more serious.”

Angel sighed at the insight of his friend, “I have to deal with it. I just … haven’t found a way how. Maybe it will take a very long time.” He waited for a moment, then went on, “I … while we were searching for Spike, and later, I saw her talking about him, saw her taking to him.” He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair, stood and walked towards the window, “You know about her affair with Spike, but so far I thought it was just that. Sex. Tonight, however, she … feels something for him. Not love … I’m pretty certain it’s not love, but it still…”

“Bothers you? Of course it does. You wouldn’t be human – and don’t start telling me you aren’t because where it counts you are. You wouldn’t be human if it wouldn’t hurt you. You love her.”

“It’s not that simple,” Angel said. “I know she cared for Riley. I can live with that. Riley was human, he had a soul. And although I’m jealous as hell, I’m also glad that she had him. Spike on the other hand-“

“Is not the average vampire either.” Wesley smiled when Angel’s head came up and the vampire stared at him. “And it’s not just the chip. I’ve learned a lot while working with you, Angel. And I’ve been reading about Spike. He is evil, no doubt there, he killed a lot of people, and certainly doesn’t lose sleep over them, but he’s still different. If the stories I heard about him and Dru are true-“

“They are,” the dark-haired vampire confirmed.

“There, you said it yourself. They stuck together, killed for each other, he cared for her, risked his life for her. Do you know any other vampire who would do it?”

Angel considered this, thought about Darla and the way she’d deserted him in the blink of an eye when vampire hunters had threatened to burn them. And she had claimed to love him. What a joke. “No,” he said after a moment. “No, there isn’t.”

“So why do you have such problems believing he cared for her. And as for Buffy … don’t you think it’s much more comforting to know that she slept with Spike because she somehow cared for him, and not just because she was too desperate to prevent it from happening? That he helped her when she desperately needed help, and not just used her? Don’t you think?”

“If you put it that way,” Angel admitted grudgingly, seeing the truth in the ex-watcher’s words. Of course he preferred to see Buffy cared for, even if it meant a soulless demon cared for her. He couldn’t deny it, Spike had, probably still did care for her. He had seen it in his grand-childe’s eyes. And if he was honest with himself, as much as he had hated seeing the connection between Buffy and Spike, he had also felt a moment of relief that not Spike’s evil side had been tempting her, but something that was not entirely part of the demon. Wesley was right, Spike had always been different. It had annoyed Angel’s evil twin to no end, but maybe it would now help to restore his sanity.

“You should keep it in your mind,” Wesley said gently. “What are you going to do. With Buffy, I mean?”

“That almost sounds as if you want us to be together,” Angel replied, looking out of the window again.

He heard Wesley chuckle behind him, “Yeah, well. If you asked for my advice, I’d say hold onto her.”

The vampire could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Weren’t you one of those who didn’t hold back their opinion that a Slayer dating a vampire was an abomination?”

“Yes, well, if you have to remind me. That wasn’t one of my strongest moment,” the ex-watcher admitted on a sigh. “I was … extremely self-absorbed, pompous if you want to put it that way. But fortunately I’ve learned quite a bit since then. So again, my advice is sticking to her.”

Sharply Angel looked at his friend, but could see nothing in the expression the other man wore, “I didn’t ask for your advice,” he responded with a scowl.

They remained in silence for several long moments. The hospital was quiet, the silence only disturbed by the beeping of Wesley’s heart monitor, the only light in the room coming from the bedside lamp. No nurses were rushing through the halls, no telephone was ringing in the background. Angel wondered if people laid their worries for their relatives and friends to rest together with their bodies, then dismissed the thought. It wasn’t fair anyway.

“Why are you so willing to ask for my advice on demonic matters and so adamant against asking for it on personal ones?,” Wesley asked.

The anger that flamed suddenly at the sudden question was hidden by the soft, even tone of Angel’s voice. “My personal matters are personal.”

“But you’re the first to admit that your judgement is as fallible as the next man’s professionally.” Wesley excused his probing with an apologetic shrug, “So why do you always trust it personally?”

Angel turned away from the ex-watcher’s scrutinizing gaze and again stared down at Sunnydale in the dark. But of course he knew that wouldn’t change anything, wouldn’t solve the problem. So he finally decided to meet it head on. He turned back to Wesley, “What can I do? Ask her to live with me? To give up all her dreams for normalcy? Being with me means living in the dark, means being with a man who isn’t really one, a man who can’t even touch her without risking to lose his soul. Or do you want me to tell her about the Shanshu prophecy?”

“That would be one way.”

“And what? Ask her to wait for me? To live in Sunnydale, to maybe grow old, alone, until some miracle, that might not even happen in the near future, gives us a chance? To wait six months, or six years, or God knows how long? To spend her entire life waiting if the prophecy comes true?”

After considering the questions for a moment, Wesley answered, “Yes. Or better yet, you let her live with you now. I know you fear for your soul, and so do I. Frankly, I don’t really care for Angelus. But, you already had a relationship with her, the last year before you left, and nothing happened to your soul. Granted, it wasn’t easy, but then, what in life is?”

Angel frowned at his words, then asked, “Have you ever loved a woman? I mean not some fling. But a woman you really loved.”

“Yes,” the ex-watcher replied quietly, but without hesitation.

“So if you were in my shoes, and when you think about that woman. Would you ask her to stay with you? Would you?”

Wesley looked at him then, and his gaze was cool and level, “Yes, I would. Maybe I’m not as noble and honourable as you, but then, I’m not as selfish, either. You have no regard whatsoever Buffy’s feelings or her desires. All you’re thinking of is yourself. You are afraid to lose her, my friend,” the watcher stated bluntly, “But so what? So what if you love her so much that the idea of losing her is about to kill you? Isn’t living apart from her killing you already? If you’ve learned one thing by now it’s that there are no guarantees in this world, and that you are able to suffer. Suffering made you strong. It helped you to endure something neither of us can even imagine. But don’t you think it’s enough now? That you don’t need any more?”

Torn between longing and reason, love and honour, Angel began to pace back and forth, “How can I ask her to … to throw everything she’s dreamed of away just to live with me? You haven’t heard her saying how important a normal life is for her.”

“That might be true,” Wesley agreed, “But then, we rarely get what we want, do we? She can hope for a normal life all the time, but she is the Slayer. She will never have one. And maybe you should just risk asking her what she really wants. So far you only told me what you made up in your stubborn mind. And consider this, if normal equals being alone, it’s a much more difficult life than being not so normal but with someone you love. You of all people should know that.” Wesley sighed, and when Angel turned his head to look at his friend the light of the bedside lamp showed something Angel had never seen in his friend’s face before. Sorrow. Bleak loss. “Before you give her up, before you throw something so unique away,” he said, “be sure that you know what you’re losing. Because I can promise you, if you go away, you’ll continue to live, you’ll still function, but inside you’ll be dead.”

Wesley sighed then, and tried to get more comfortable in his bed, “And now, if you excuse me,” he yawned, “I’m getting tired. I’m still not quite recovered.”

Angel watched the Englishman close his eyes, and quietly left the room.

*

Outside, the night air surrounding him, the breeze caressing his skin, Angel wearily sank on a bench. Wesley was hurting inside, too, there was no doubt of that. Any other time Angel would have offered him … What? Reassurances that everything would be alright? Words that were too bland, too trite, as to be offensive? Sympathy because he shared his sadness? Friendship that couldn’t ease the pain?

He had nothing to offer, not to Wesley, and certainly not to Buffy. She would be alright, he tried to convince himself. In a few months she would move on, would find someone to share her life, to keep the darkness at bay. She had her friends, and would settle back in the comfortable routine she needed. She would put Angel where he belonged – in the past, in the dark part of her mind reserved for memories that no longer mattered. In the beginning thinking of him might be painful, but before long that would fade. Before long the memories would disappear.

Before you give her up, be sure that you know what you’re losing. Oh, he knew. He was losing everything that mattered. He thought of Connor. Well maybe not everything, but a big part that meant life, love, and future. He was losing his dreams, his hopes. He was losing the only woman he had ever loved, the only one he would ever love. He had lived for more than 200 years and only Buffy had managed to enter his undead heart. So how were the chances another one would come along? Nada. Zilch. None. He was losing a woman who had made him a better man, hell, had made him a man, period. Before she’d come into his life, he’d simply existed, trying to keep himself alive by the blood of the rats in the streets of New York.

He was losing the chance to live a fulfilling, happy, loving life, no matter how long – or how short – it was.

He tilted his head back, and his eyes drifted shut. He couldn’t share Wesley’s sentiments. He couldn’t ask Buffy to wait for him. What if he never became human? What if he died before the prophecy could come true? Was it fair to ask her to put her life on hold for the possibility that *someday* he might come for her, that *someday* they might be together? What if she agreed, then stopped loving him before “someday” ever happened? What if she met another man, one who could give her all the love and tenderness that was forbidden to him, who could give her children? Who could give her all she deserved right now?

And what if she didn’t?

He knew how rare love was. Some people lived their entire live without finding it. Others settled for something less, for affection and friendship instead of passion and intensity. Just as he knew in his heart that he would never love another woman, what if the same was true for Buffy? Hadn’t he seen the bleak expression in her eyes the night he had followed her from the Bronze? What if that meant she had to live her life alone – indulging herself into an affair now and then – but basically alone, or what if she would settle for affection and friendship. She deserved better. She deserved all the love a man could give, deserved to give her love the way she wanted.

Which meant giving her love to him.

Startled by the sudden insight his eyes popped open. He had to blink several times against the brightness of the stars and the moon.

Maybe he could really talk to her. Maybe he could ask whether she wanted to wait for him. Maybe he could suggest-

Stubbornly he cut off the thought and pushed himself to his feet. It was after midnight, and he was tired, the strain of the previous days taking its toll. He needed to sleep, and he needed to feel Connor, needed to feel his baby-soft skin, hear his little puffs of breath, needed to know he was safe and sound. Tomorrow he would talk to Buffy. But before, he needed to rest. Needed to stop thinking about her. To stop searching for some way to keep her when he knew in his head that there was none.

 Part 29

The expected knock on his door came at eight o’clock in the morning. He’d been up, feeding and bathing Connor, spending some quality time with his baby son, glad no noises were disturbing the quietness of the house. Angel had been relieved to find Connor ready for bed – in Cordelia’s arms. Maybe Buffy had somehow sensed that last night hadn’t been the time to talk. They were all worn out, too tired to think clearly, let alone talk rational. So he’d taken Connor from Cordy and gone to Dawn’s room, falling asleep almost instantly with the baby near by, his constant breathing like the sweetest lullaby.

But Angel had known that Buffy wouldn’t give him space for long, that she would come sooner or later, and now – so it seemed – it was time.

“Come in,” he answered, and smiled slightly when Buffy’s blond head appeared in the door and she slipped inside without waiting for any other encouragement. “Hey,” he greeted her, taking his eyes from Connor who had fallen asleep again.

“Hey,” she replied, her voice soft and still a bit rough from sleep, sending shivers down his spine. “Slept well.”

“We both did,” he told her. “He’s a very sound sleeper.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Buffy chuckled, sitting down at the end of the bed. Dawn’s bed. “Where did you go last night?”

“To the hospital. I wanted to see Fred, but then the nurse told me Wes was awake, and so I ended up seeing him.”

“That’s … that’s great,” the Slayer’s voice was full of forced cheerfulness, as was her smile, “So he’s okay?”

“Getting there. He’s hardly recognizable, but yeah.”

Nervously biting her lower lip, Buffy wiped her suddenly sweaty palms at her trousers, “So … uh …,” she looked at said hands, “What’s going to happen now?” Before he could answer, she held up a hand, “No, let me rephrase that. What I really want to know,” she looked up, searched his eyes, locked hers with them, “What is going to happen with us?”

“Us?,” he asked, hoping to avoid this discussion just for another while.

“Don’t play dumb.” Her reaction was as he should’ve expected it. She was angry, and she had every right to be. “I know you told me, this, us, couldn’t work. You were quite clear, actually. But then … after the stuff with Riley happened I thought … I mean … then Connor was kidnapped and we had other things to worry about. But I need to know, Angel.” She paused, then went on, “Why didn’t you come back to my room last night? Why did you go to Dawn’s?” Ever since he hadn’t shown up she’d asked herself this question. Dawn had been staying with Xander and Anya for the night, maybe needing the distance, so her room had been empty, but it had still hurt.

He stared back at her for a moment, then awkwardly folded the small blanket he’d used to change Connor before. “I chose Dawn’s room so I wouldn’t disturb you. When I came back Cordelia told me you were asleep already. Besides, I knew Connor would wake early, and I wanted you to have your sleep.”

“So you wouldn’t disturb me?,” she echoed. “Or so *I* wouldn’t disturb you?

He wanted to deny that, wanted to wipe away the hurt in her eyes with a kiss, but wasn’t  sure if touching her right now was possible, “I don’t want to fight with you, Buffy,” he said stiffly.

“No? Am I not important enough to fight with, or what?” She got up, walked towards the window, then back.

“You know that’s not true,” he defended himself, “How can you even think something like that?” Well, you’ve given her reason to think that way, a little voice in his head raised its voice. You’ve done nothing else these past days. “You are important to me. Do you even know how hard this is for me? When you are near, when you are close I have light, and peace, and happiness. When we are apart … those things stay with you.”

“Then why did you never tell me about the Shanshu-prophecy?,” she asked, her eyes full of accusations.

It was as if someone had punched him in the gut, “Who,” he cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry, “told you?”

“Does it matter?” she replied. “It was Cordy. But don’t you dare scolding her for it. It was long past due. You should have told me. You should have told her. Should have given her something to look forward to. To give her hope. Maybe she would be still alive, if…,” she trailed off, but her eyes were steady.

He had to swallow against the bile that rose in his throat. He couldn’t deal with it. Couldn’t deal with the possibility that leaving her had killed her in the end. “I never …,” he whispered brokenly, his hand searching Connor, needing the touch, needing the comfort the feeling gave him. “Buffy didn’t die because..”

“No, she didn’t,” Buffy agreed, hating to see him like this. “But you took a lot from her when you left. When the Angel in my reality died, I wanted to die right with him. True, you just left her, but knowing you, it’s not very different from actual death.  But no, you are not responsible. Yet,” she paused, thought about the moment on the platform, the moment she had decided that death might be better than an empty, lonely eternity in front of her, “she might have changed her decision if … if she had still been able to hope.”

“I … I don’t want you to … to …,” he stammered, still shaken from her words.

“Then ask me to wait for you,” she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. “Give me some reason to believe that you’ll come for me when you turn human. Or when Willow finds a way to reverse your curse. She did in my world. She found the spell. She will find it here as well.”

“I can’t do that.” Forcing himself to look at her, to recognize the pain and hurt in her hazel eyes, he swallowed. “Don’t you understand, Buffy? It may never end, and who says I’m even going to survive?”

“Or it could end next week and you could be very much alive – and I mean that literally. Either way, if you asked me, I would wait.”

God, she was so sweet standing in front of him, but he couldn’t let her do it. “Don’t say that, Buffy. For your own sake.” And for his sake, too. He was feeling so ragged, so desperate, so needy for her, that he was ready to believe anything that would let him hold onto her.

“Do you want me to say I’ll forget you? That I will stop loving you? That I’ll find another man, one who can give me all the things you are so convinced I need? That I’ll finally get married and have that so called normal life?”

“Yes.” But of course that wasn’t really what he wanted to hear. He wanted her to deny all these things. Wanted her to vow eternal love for him. But he couldn’t tell her that. Couldn’t tell her that the idea of her with another man was driving him crazy, that the idea of her pregnant with another’s child was causing such agony he wanted to scream. But he didn’t tell her that either. He mercilessly pushed down the agony, pushed down the pain, determined to do this for her. Only for her.

“And that’s what I wanted too,” she replied to his utter astonishment. “When you … when the other Angel died, I wanted to hate him for it. For dying in my place, for leaving me alone. I wanted to meet another man, to love him and let him take Angel’s place in my life so completely that even my memories of Angel would have no room to exist. But you know what? It never happened. Every man I met, Parker, Riley, Spike, I compared all of them to you – to him. Every one of them was competing with your memory, and none measured up. Not one. It didn’t happen then, and it’s not going to happen now. I love you, Angel. I will always love you. Not even coming from different dimensions could change that.”

“You can’t know that,” he whispered miserably. “Always is such a long time.”

“A lifetime,” she agreed. “Which in my case might be shorter than we all think.” When she saw he wanted to protest, she added, “I already died twice. How often do you think I will come back?”

“A lifetime is a long time to look ahead, too long to promise.” He wasn’t ready to stop arguing, although he felt his resistance slipping. Her arguments were too good, too well thought out, and they were touching him deep inside.  “I can’t make a commitment to you, Buffy. How can I when I don’t even know what my future holds.”

“But nobody knows that,” she cried, “And it’s good that way. It would be terrible if we all knew what the future holds. All we can do is live in the now. Today. And hope that tomorrow at least won’t be worse.” She sat down again, and tentatively reached out to touch his hand, “You could give me hope, Angel. You could give me your vow that as soon as it’s possible you’d come for me. It would be enough.”

“No, it wouldn’t. I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair to you,” he tried to argue again, but the touch of her hand was making him feel weak.

She made an impatient gesture with her free hand, “Life isn’t fair, Angel. Who ever said it was? I love you, Angel,” her voice became intense, almost pleading, “Give me the hope that this isn’t over, that you will come as soon as possible.”

He looked at her, a long time, reason fighting against hope, against desire, the touch of her hand causing his skin to tingle, causing warmth to spread through his cool body. “Buffy, I’m sorry-“

“Shhh,” she interrupted him, looking at him. Slowly she leaned forward, and breathed the softest of kisses on his mouth. “You worry too much, Angel,” she said, slightly pulling back. “I tend to do the same, but compared to you, I’m a careless person. I say I love you, and you say, ‘no, I can’t make a commitment to you. I can’t give you anything. I can’t promise you anything. I can’t let you wait for me because it’s not fair. I can’t let you live with me because it’s dangerous. Because I could lose my soul, and I could hurt you again.” She smiled at him, gently, lovingly, “If you say you love me, I think, ‘I must be the luckiest woman in the world.’ With love, nothing else matters. At least not with the kind of love we share. It’s so powerful, so profound, it makes everything else small and unimportant.”

Her description of his response was accurate and sounded incredibly selfish in his ears. He had never thought of himself as selfish, he had given up so much, he had given up her so she could have a better life. If asked, he would have immodestly described himself as distinctly unselfish.

But Buffy thought he was selfish, and Wesley had told him the same. Was it selfish to want the one person he loved more than any other in the world to be safe? Even if it meant possibly living the rest of their lives apart? Even if it meant sorrow, unhappiness and loneliness for both of them?

God, that sounded awful. Was he really condemning her to a life like that by leaving her?

“Do you really think when I’m lonely,” she said, “anyone will do? I don’t think so. Been there, done that, and don’t want it again. I’m not going to settle for cheap replacements anymore. What I want … what I need … I need it from you, not from some man who happens to be available and willing.”

“How long will you need it from me when I’m not able to give it to you?,” he asked, glad she had given him a point to argue. “I cannot love you the way you should be loved. How long are you going to stand it?”

“The rest of my life,” her chin came up stubbornly, but the smile was still in place. “You’re going to leave me to let me spend the rest of my life with nothing. I know you love me, Angel. You couldn’t deny that even if you wanted. I have lived with you – with him. I know you better than you think. I’m not the Buffy from this dimension, the one you denied the pleasure to live with you. I know what it means to be happy, to be together. I will not deny that the sex was … outstanding, breathtaking, but given the choice I’d prefer to live without sex, instead of not living with you at all.” Her smile turned sly, “Besides, there are a lot more ways to find satisfaction than going through a moment of perfect happiness.”

Everything she said made perfect sense, and God, how he wanted to believe it, how he wanted to give in, to tell her exactly what she wanted to hear. But she was only twenty years old, could she really understand what forever meant? Was she really fit to … God, he was doing it again, he was treating her like some highschool girl who was too stupid to decide. But she was not stupid. She was the Slayer, had seen more things than most people alive, had been robbed off her innocence a long time ago.

He thought about Wesley’s words, thought about sticking to her, holding on to her, thought about his own musings that he was a better man when she was around. Maybe she was a better woman too, with him by her side. Wasn’t that more important? Wasn’t the fact that they loved each other more important than his doubts? Who was he to deny her all the happiness she could get? Did he even have the right? And when her happiness meant sharing her life with him, wasn’t it her decision? Even though she was only twenty?

Feeling confused by his own thoughts, Angel shook his head in a desperate attempt to muddle through all the confusion, but he didn’t realise what effect this little gesture would have on Buffy. She had been watching him, had seen his inner battle, had anxiously waited for the outcome, and now the little shake of his head, this one small gesture, was destroying all her hopes. Like an old woman she stood up from the bed, weariness flooding her body, making her feel old and worn out.

She felt hollow, as if broken on the inside. As if in trance, she reached for the door-handle, when his voice stopped her in mid-motion.

“Buffy,” he whispered, and she could hear what it cost him, what struggle he’d fought to say it. “Don’t go. Stay with me.”

“How long?” Hope flared again, but she needed to know, needed to hear him say it.

“Forever.”

Almost Home – Epilogue

Buffy’s POV

It still feels like another Buffy did all these things. Like another Buffy lived through the months of despair. Another Buffy who wanted Spike to take away the pain, to make her feel. Spike, who left that night in the cemetery, and never came back. Dawn still misses him sometimes, but fortunately she’s too busy with college and boys (and I don’t even want to think about what they are doing together) to think of him too often. I sometimes wonder what would happen if he came back, but that doesn’t happen too often either. 

We never talk about him, but silently I’m glad he never actually did come back. It’s true what I told him in the cemetery. I don’t want him to end up at the tip of my stake.

I see the lights go out at our neighbour’s house. Jimmy Donnelly lives there, a descendant of Irish ancestors who immigrated to America over a hundred years ago. They fled the hunger in Ireland, but they never stopped missing the green island. Jimmy was once interested in Dawn, but she wouldn’t go out with him, claimed he was boring.

Well, I guess I can understand it. After all she tends to take Angel for a role model, and my husband is anything but boring. Yes, you’ve heard right. My husband.

Not a second has gone by where I don’t thank the Powers for sending him to me. I felt so lost and lonely before he came into my life. I didn’t understand a lot of things until I met him – how two hearts recognize each other even before you speak, how neither time nor space can separate two lovers when their souls are joined, how a simple touch can become the single most important thing you’ve ever done. When it can be more important than all the dirty sex you could have in exchange.

I think – even if he’d never agree with me – it was no accident he’s named for a celestial being, for he’s certainly my dear sweet angel. And if I sound like an old fool now, who cares? He is the most important person in my life and he’ll always be. That, I am sure, will never change.

I hear the door crack behind me and I smile, knowing it’s him without even looking. We’re so attuned to each other, we feel the others presence. But then, we always have.

He sighs behind me, then sits down by my side, his hand finding mine. “A warm breeze is in the air,” he says softly, and I feel his hand enveloping mine, the touch so soft and familiar, and I can’t imagine anything more beautiful.

“Yes, it is,” I agree

“Did I tell you I love you today?,” he asks, lifting my hand to his mouth, kissing its palm.

“Yes, but I’m not counting,” I reply on a smile, and feel him smile, too, against my skin. “So, is Connor asleep?”

“Finally,” he sighs,” then drapes his arm around my shoulders pulling me against him. “He’s so excited because something seems to happen in school tomorrow that’s supposed to be exciting, he couldn’t stop talking.”

“I think he’s in love,” I reply, then giggle when Angel looks at me with unveiled horror.

“Buffy, he is six years old.”

“And? Maybe he has  to make it up for his father who needed more than 240 years to finally find the girl of his dreams.” I see his eyes darken, and start to shiver.

“No dreams, my love,” he whispers, and I feel his breath tickling the sensitive skin at my temples. “Real. This is all very real.”

“Yes, it is, I whisper back,” loving the feeling of being held so close, so that it’s hard to say where he begins and I end. “Thank God, it is.”

“Thank you,” he replies, and kisses my cheek. “If it wasn’t for you, for your stubbornness and love, we’d be separated and miserable.”

“Who knows,” I joke, “Maybe you would’ve hooked up with Cordy. Don’t think I never heard that you and she were making googly eyes at each other.”

“Googly-,” his voice fails, he’s so stunned. “I never made googly eyes at Cordy in my whole life. She like a sister to me.” I have to chuckle at his outrage. “Besides,” he goes on, “I suppose Gunn would’ve staked me on the spot.”

“Hmmm,” I make, snuggling closer. Gunn and Cordy got together a year after we did. He had a hard time convincing her that they were meant to be, but fortunately I could give him some pointers. “This is nice, just sitting here, with you, like normal people. Not,” I add quickly, “that I really want normal. I like it the way it is.”

Now it’s his turn to chuckle, “I’m not going to jump up and run away at the mention of normal, Buffy. I’m over that.”

“I know. I wonder where Willow and Tara are? Do you think they’re in Italy now?”

“Not quite,” he replies, “More somewhere around Paris.”

“Ahh, Paris,” I sigh, remembering our first trip to Europe, by ship, because Angel said airplanes weren’t light-proof, and no way I was going to lose my lover to spontaneous combustion. Not after fighting so hard to keep him. We weren’t really lovers then. It was shortly after he came back to Sunnydale. Five months later, to be exact. We took Connor with us, and had a wonderful time. When we came back, Willow and Tara gave us the most wonderful present. They had found a way to change Angel’s curse.

Ever since then, our live has been the most wonderful you can imagine. Not only is Angel the best lover I ever had, but he’s also the sweetest, most caring husband a girl could wish for. Of course we’re not really married, not lawfully wedded, so to speak. But shortly after Willow gave us the spell to anchor his soul, he gave me a Claddagh ring, a replacement for the one I left in the mansion, and told me that when he grew up, wearing it was almost as being married. So I’m wearing it and it feels like the fulfilment of my dreams.

“When will they be back?”

The question needs a moment to register, “Will and Tara? Around Christmas,” I tell him. Our friends left four weeks ago, and will be back in another four weeks time. They wanted some time for themselves, and decided to go to Europe. Willow is cool again with her witchiness, even casts spells, but only minor ones. Anchoring Angel’s soul she left to Tara.

“So we’ll have a big Christmas celebration. Good.”

One thing I learned about Angel? He is a real family man. He loves having all his loved ones together, loves to celebrate birthdays, and other stuff. And he likes to cook for all of them. For last Thanksgiving he made the most outrageously tasting turkey. I still wonder how he’s doing it, not tasting a lot himself, but somehow he manages.

“Yes,” I confirm. “Anya and Xander will come home, too. As a matter of fact, they’ll come to stay.” My friend and his ex-demon wife and their two kids have been living in Chicago for a while where Xander finally went to college and managed to get a business-degree. Who would’ve thought? And now he’s found a job in Sunnydale. “Seems not only demons can’t resist the Hellmouth.”

“So only Fred and Wes will be missing,” Angel says, and I hear the hint of sadness in his voice. “But I’m also glad that Wes finally decided to visit his father. It was time.”

“Yes,” I agree. Wes and Fred are a couple now, believe it or not. They’re not married so far, and Angel and I have the theory that Wes wants to resolve his father issues before he risks having kids of his own. Not, mind, that you need to be married to have kids. But in Wes’ case you do. We both keep our fingers crossed that his journey back to England, back to the roots, will have the outcome he wishes for.

“So,” I hear Angel say, and he chuckles. “Tell me again with whom our son is in love with?”

I chuckle right back, “A girl in his class. Her name is Annie. She’s tiny, has the sweetest eyes, and is a blonde.”

“Figures,” Angel mutters, and we both burst out laughing, our laughter sounding through the night.

Life couldn’t be better right now. We have all we ever wanted. Wonderful friends. Each other, and a family. Connor has become my son as much as he’s Angel’s and I would  die for him. Fortunately Wolfram & Hart stopped showing interest in him when a new prophecy revealed that he was just a human baby with no power to influence destiny. We still fight the lawyers, but at least Connor is safe now.

Angel still has his agency in L.A., with Gunn, Cordy, Wes, and Fred working with him, but mainly we live in Sunnydale, it was more practical, so we can be near whenever the Hellmouth cooks something up for us. So far we managed to survive everything. I didn’t die a third time, and Angel managed to stay undusted as well.

He did not become human, at least not so far, but we still keep hoping. Because one thing we’ve learned. As long as there’s hope, everything is possible.

Just look at us.

END