BtVS fic: Dreams Can Come True (Or Angelic Error Version 2.0)
Title: Dreams Can Come True (Or Angelic Error Version 2.0)
Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, and I don’t own the song “No More Cry” by the Corrs either.
Rating: Around PG-13 I guess.
Summary: Sometimes all that’s needed is to fix a few mistakes.
Timeline: Never ask me an episode title, I can’t remember ‘em. So, this story was conceived right after Holtz took Connor into Quartoth. This is a little after that. Naturally Connor died.
Notes: Yes I know this does resemble Angelic Error to a rather large degree. Thing is, this is what was originally supposed to be a kinda dark version of that plot line. Problem is the story got away from me, turned into a songfic at the end, and I think the beginning is completely disjointed from everything else. Hell, I think everything in this is disjointed from everything else in it. The lullaby in Gaelic (which isn’t actually a lullaby) translates as: Horo my nut brown maiden/ Hiri my nut brown maiden. Yes I threw it in for the helluvit.
Feedback: Yes! Comments? Questions? Complaints? Calls for me to hand over my computer before someone gets hurt? scwlc@yahoo.ca
****************
Unfair.
It was unfair.
He was being unfair. The thought was both darkly amusing and maddening simultaneously. Amusing because of the irony, and maddening because of that selfsame irony. If he was still unforgiven the sins he had committed against them, how could Wesley be forgiven this most heinous sin of all?
The watcher had taken Connor and essentially handed him over to a man who wished the child dead. He had the unmitigated gall to plead that a prophecy gave him the right. The others now sided with him and only kept him away for fear of what Angel would do. They did not understand that he would do nothing now.
Nothing was precisely the punishment Wesley deserved. To have his sin or rectitude be ignored by the one he had wronged would allow the guilt to brew inside him. Angel knew all about that. The horror that would eat you up inside even as you pleaded that it wasn’t your fault twisted in your gut until you felt sick with it. He had suffered it for a century and saw it as the only just punishment for Wesley’s crimes.
Even now, he could barely bring himself to keep from staring at the spot where his son once lay. He had taken apart the crib and moved to another room, convincing the others he was moving toward a recovery. It was all a lie of course. He was burying his grief over his son the way he had buried the anguish over Buffy, Doyle, Darla, and everyone he had ever let down or lost.
Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he allowed the madness twisting at the edge of his consciousness in. Would the Powers find someone to replace him, or would they simply drag him back from the comforting emptiness lunacy offered? Their past cruelties suggested the latter. He did not succumb because of some inner strength, he struggled because he could not survive being dragged back to the surface again. He was not drowning, but he couldn’t pull himself from the water either.
So he drifted, caught between the pain of the real world, and the soothing calm of the one of pure insanity that beckoned beneath. To the others he played a game of recovery, treading the thin line between too rapid and too slow pretending that he cared for something other than his own pain. He did not sink into visible despair because he did not wish to suffer the sheer viciousness it would incite in his friends.
Angel bided his time until he was released from this hell his life resembled. Perhaps, in time, they would let him have peace.
*************
In a dimension beyond the comprehension of the human mind fury fell upon the creature cowering before Them. It too, was beyond mortal comprehension, but the differences between it and Them was as vast as that as those between humanity and it.
“You have failed.”
It trembled, “I did not know of the difficulties posed by the curse.”
“You failed.” They were merciless in Their anger. It knew it had failed Them, and that its failure had nowhere to rest other than its shoulders.
“How may I make this mistake right?”
They responded without hesitation, “The plans which were to have been set in motion by their own actions must now be initiated through more artificial means. You will interfere on Our behalf.”
It understood immediately and rose to its feet, “I will begin at once,” it responded.
With that They withdrew and it left to perform the task which would set right the grievous errors it had committed during its time guarding and watching the warriors. Scooping up the three souls of the children that were to belong to the warriors, the angel made its way down to Earth so that the warriors might regain the offspring that were to have been theirs.
******************
“Buffy! Buffy, wake up!”
The Slayer slowly blinked as she surfaced from the really weird dream she’d had, the fourth in as many weeks, to see Willow and Tara standing at the foot of her bed looking worried as they stage whispered at her. She yawned, “Whassup?”
Tara glanced nervously at the door as Willow whispered, “Dawn’s cooking and she wants us to eat it. We need to distract her so we can get rid of the pancakes. I told her I was getting you up for breakfast, and Tara pretended she had to go to the bathroom.”
Buffy rolled her eyes, “Please. You’re freaked out because of the enchiladas. Dawn is completely capable of making decent food.” The pair stared doubtfully at the Slayer as she stood up and slumped downstairs calling, “Dawn! Could you make some extra for me? I’m really hungry this morning!”
“Sure,” replied her sister when Buffy plunked into one of the kitchen chairs. “Where are Willow and Tara?”
Buffy smirked, “They ran when they heard you were cooking.”
Dawn’s cheerful smile turned chagrined, “Willow told her about the enchiladas didn’t she?”
“Yup.”
She frowned in puzzlement, “Why am I making extra then? You can have Willow and Tara’s portions.”
“Hey! Do I smell food?” Xander waltzed in, as he always did, without knocking, and scooped the four just finished pancakes off the plate where they sat stuffing them into his mouth.
Dawn blinked, looked at Buffy, then her expression cleared, “Oh,” she said in tones of sudden enlightenment.
“Mmrma?” Xander queried.
Buffy smiled sweetly at him, “Dawn was just asking why she had to make extra when it was just going to be the two of us.”
It took Xander a couple moments to figure out what Buffy was saying. When he did, he had the grace to flush, especially when Anya appeared a moment later bearing the plans for Xander And Anya’s Wedding: Take Two. She too scooped up the pancakes meant for Buffy who roller her eyes saying, “Am I good, or am I good?”
Anya shot Buffy an annoyed look, “I don’t know what you are referring to so I shall ignore it. Xander, I want you to have different colour scheme this time. Less turquoise, more fuchia." The sisters winced in unison at the thought of being Anya’s bridesmaids a second time.
It was on Dawn’s third try that Buffy finally got to have her pancakes. With all the madness associated with Anya’s second attempt at a perfect wedding Buffy forgot about the strange dream she had. Spike’s appearance on patrol made completely certain she didn’t remember.
“Slayer! I see you’ve come by my crypt. You gonna come in for a little-”
Buffy’s response was unequivocal, “No.”
He snorted, “Right. You just came by here on patrol.” His expression was equally unyielding.
“Listen Spike, I know I’ve said some terrible things to you during the past couple months, and it’s true I don’t hate you. But I don’t love you, and I never will.” Buffy looked at him gravely. It took a moment for her words to get to him, and when they did he smiled.
“So you do admit it. You really feel something for me!” He was so ecstatic Buffy was almost sorry to burst his bubble.
She looked at him a little sadly. The childlike joy he displayed at the thought that she did love him was virtually painful to witness. It wasn’t his fault she had used him as a replacement for Angel after all. “Spike, at most what I feel for you is friendship. You’ve been there for me and Dawn in ways none of my other friends could be, but I don’t love you. Not the way you want me to.”
“So that’s it hunh?” his face darkened, and fury crossed his features, “All I am to you is someone to play with for the fun of it? I thought Angelus was the master of torture.”
Buffy flinched, “That’s not fair! I was-”
“Adjusting. Yeah I know the drill,” he said bitterly, “Y’know what slayer? I’m leavin’. I’ll be out of your hair by sunrise.” With that he turned on his heel and strode into the night. Buffy watched him go, uncertain of whether she felt relief at his departure or sadness. He had been a friend when she needed one most, and she had repaid him with cruelty. On the other hand, he was a conscienceless demon.
In the end Buffy went home and went to bed having decided that there was nothing she could do now. Either he stuck around, or he left. She’d deal whichever happened. Of course, either way she was going to make Dawn spend more time with her peers. The girl really needed some friends her own age. With that thought, Buffy curled up and went to sleep.
********************
She opened her eyes to the kitchen and the sight of Angel smiling at her holding a baby. “Angel?”
He simply turned to the baby and began to sing to her, “Ho rò mo nighean donn bhòidheach,” he began to walk with the child, “Hi rì mo nighean donn bhòidheach,” he continued to pace and sing. Buffy drifted to a bassinet in the corner, and saw two more babies sleeping in it.
“Angel, what’s going on?” Buffy walked up to him, and found herself holding the baby.
“She has your eyes.” He leaned over to brush a kiss on her forehead.
Buffy found herself responding as though this was the most natural thing in the world, “Maybe, but that’s the only thing she got from me.”
He gave her that sexy half smile, “I’m going to have to keep the boys away from both of them when they get older.”
“Great I’ll have to be the voice of reason. You know I hate that,” she grinned at him. They leaned together, and she closed her eyes in anticipation. She could feel the cool brush of his breath as he leaned closer-
Then she woke up.
********************
Angel sat up with a gasp. Dreaming of Buffy and Connor was hardly an odd occurrence. This dream was different however. She had been there, rocking Connor and singing to him in Gaelic, but there had also been twin girls. They had talked about the girls, and had been about to kiss when he’d woken up.
For a moment Angel was tempted to try going back to sleep and returning to that dream world. Unfortunately he knew that would be both futile and it wouldn’t help him with his self-appointed task of moving past this loss. He was having a lot of trouble coping with Connor’s death as it was, and fantasising that he, Buffy and Connor were a happy family was a luxury of denial he could little afford.
So instead of curling into a ball and weeping as he wished to, Angel got out of bed, dressed, and headed downstairs. Wesley was there already, working desperately in his attempt to prove to the others that he was a good little employee of the company. When it all came down to it, they were under Cordelia’s thumb. The agency had been since day one. She had created it almost single handed, and had taken it upon herself to be the disciplinarian and core.
Somehow, his search for personal redemption had been co-opted by the aspiring actress, and now he stared across the lobby of a hotel that had died with the fifties, at a man who should have died from a slit throat, and wondered when he had become such a pushover.
He greeted the other, now fallen into the same trap he had more than a year ago. On second thoughts, with hindsight, he realised he should never have begged the others for forgiveness. It was his own fault for not letting the others understand better what he was. Still, the only person who had . . . He cut that thought off the moment it started to form.
Angel sat in the office that was again nominally his, and steepled his fingers before him. He watched as Gunn, Cordelia, Groo and Fred gradually filed into the hotel lobby, and waited for them to settle down before he came out to make an announcement that was sure to throw them into a complete tizzy.
“Angel, hey,” Cordelia’s bright smile, showing the long hours of practice behind it, made him want to wince, but he maintained the stoic facade that had been his trademark for years.
“Cordelia,” he nodded acknowledgement to the small collection of people.
Groo’s naive grin widened as he said, “Angel. It is good to see that you have emerged once more to battle the evils that beset this city.” His stilted phrasing reminded Angel of nothing so much as the hack dialogue from a children’s cartoon, and for a moment he had an insane vision of dropping an anvil on the man’s head to shut him up.
Wesley was silent, waiting to hear what the vampire had to say, while Gunn and Fred were in their own world. He took a deep breath to steady himself and said, “Guys, there’s no easy way to explain this, but I want you to understand that I think I have to do this.
“I’m a vampire,” he held up a hand to forestall the responses to that statement, “And I think that it’s something I need to reconnect with. So, I’m moving out of the hotel, and I’m going to try being on my own for a while.” He shot a look around the room that managed to quell their protests. “I’ll leave you guys a phone number and address for emergencies, but since you’ve got Groo now, I doubt you’ll need me for too much.”
Fred was the first to respond, “Angel, I know Connor dyin’ was hard on you, but do you really think runnin’ away’s gonna help?”
“This isn’t about Connor Fred. It’s about me trying to be human. I’m not. It’s something I need to do.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to put into words concepts he was unsure any of the others really understood. “Guys, I do appreciate your whole ‘get Angel to be more human’ kick, but you need to understand that there’s this . . . need inside me for something more than just these cases we work on.”
Cordelia glared at him, “So what you’re saying is you’re abandoning us again.”
“No, I-”
Gunn didn’t give him a chance to respond, “Sounds like it to me. You’re gonna go all evil again and leave us to pick up after you.”
“That’s not-”
Cordelia snarled at him, “Oh yes it is! You’re taking off, we’re gonna have to deal with everything all on our own, while you go on some moronic mission of vengeance or something.”
Hurt, Angel started to rethink his position. Then Groo spoke up, “Perhaps we ought to allow Angel to finish his speech. He did not seem to be speaking of abandonment. It may not be as you think.” The champion’s guileless words brought a halt to the recriminations.
“It is true,” Wesley pointed out, “That Angel had said he will give us places and telephone numbers at which to contact him. It is also true that with . . . Groo,” he said sounding mildly perplexed at the name, “Present, we do have another fighter with the supernatural advantages we frequently need.”
Smiling gratefully at the two, and receiving two smiles, one cheery, the other equally grateful, in return, Angel tried again. “Look, it’s just that . . .” he frowned, searching for the words, “That I need to hunt alone for a while. I’m more than just a really strong person, and I think I should relearn the part of me that’s demon.”
The expressions on his friends’ faces said everything. Fred and Wesley looked briefly confused, then understanding. Gunn’s was unreadable until his gaze slid away. Groo looked . . . Well, Groo always looked like that, and Angel very much doubted that little boy eagerness would leave the Pylean native’s face any time soon. Cordelia, on the other hand, looked grim and stubborn. “So you’re gonna what? Kill a bunch of people to get in touch with your evil killer side?”
“There’s more to being a vampire than just killing Cordy,” he said, “Putting aside the strata of vampire society, there are certain instincts that I can’t suppress. It’s driving me nuts, and working with you guys, I can’t use them for fear of driving you all away.”
Groo looked baffled at Angel’s words, but Gunn seemed relieved, “As long as I don’t gotta track ya down and kill you, do what ya gotta do.”
“So that’s it?” Cordy demanded, “You’re just gonna let him walk out of here?”
Groo gently patted her, “Princess, many warriors find they have need of quests to determine their destinies. I suspect this is much the same for Angel.”
“But that’s what he’s doing with us,” Cordelia whined.
Fred ignored her and walked up to Angel, “So long as you’re not leavin’ again I guess I’m okay with it.”
He smiled at her, then addressed the group, “I’ve already packed,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper, “Here’s the place I’m staying, the phone number, and directions. I decided to leave before anything else came up.”
Cordelia launched herself at him eyes flashing with anger, “So basically, you’ve been planning on taking off for weeks,” she hissed, “I can’t believe you! All you ever think of is yourself!” she glanced at the others, clearly expecting support.
“Oh no,” Gunn said, “I ain’t gettin’ involved. I think Angel might be right about this. Besides, he’s not takin’ off again, he’s just movin' someplace where he can be on his own.” With that he headed for the seats in the lobby to watch the show.
Fred followed her boyfriend, “I mean lots of people need time away from work,” she added, “Angel lives right over the office. Maybe he just needs some space away from here.”
Cordelia turned to Groo, but he said, “We cannot interfere in a warrior’s himbulfrax.”
Silence followed that statement until Fred spoke up, “It’s like a quest for personal enlightenment,” she explained. Groo nodded enthusiastically.
Wesley and Angel shared a glance that spoke volumes about how much Groo’s cheerful exuberance unsettled them both. Cordelia caught it, and suddenly her face settled into a crafty expression. She had once played her parents off each other to get whatever she wanted, and she was going to use that skill now.
“Wesley?” she asked, her face returning to its previous mask of anger even as she schemed.
“What?” then he remembered, “No. I think we have been most remiss in understanding Angel’s needs as a vampire. It may be-”
She cut him off, “Right. Mr. ‘I think Connor is in danger from Angel so I’m gonna kidnap him instead of asking for help’.”
Wesley winced, “Cordelia, that has nothing to do with this.”
“Uh-huh,” she replied, “I think it does. You’re feeling so guilty about taking Connor you’ll do anything to get Angel to forgive you.”
“That’s just not-” he tried to explain, but Angel could see he was wavering. Which was when he came to a sudden realisation.
“That is enough Cordelia.” The ex-cheerleader stared at Angel as though she’d never seen him before. No one had ever spoken to her like that.
“What are you talking about?” she demanded.
Angel glared at her, turning a look on her that made everyone draw away several steps. “I’m talking about you using Wesley’s guilt to get him to support you. I’m talking about the way you manipulate everyone around you to do what you want. Ever since you walked into my life you’ve twisted and manipulated people to your own benefit. You marched into my quest for redemption and changed it into a way for you to have a job. You still don’t realise that fault was equally distributed between all of us for my fling with the dark side last year. You used the fact that I felt guilty to get new clothes out of me, and don’t talk about how I never showed that I cared for you then, because you were the one who threw me out of the hospital when I went to see if Wesley was alright.
“Not to mention, do you know why the zombie police officers stopped attacking when they did? I went and stopped the man who raised them. The reason Anne’s shelter is still running? I ripped a couple million off of Wolfram and Hart and gave that blood money to her. Don’t tell me I care nothing for anyone other than myself.
“The only person here who has any right to be as unforgiving to Wesley as you are being, is me. You all may have cared for Connor, but he was my son. Not yours. Not to mention that you have been demanding that I forgive Wesley for his error for weeks now, and the moment you think it would come in handy, you use his conscience against him. I am sick of being under your control Cordelia. I am my own person. We all are. If you can’t accept that maybe you ought to rethink your position.”
With that, Angel swept up the stairs, returning minutes later with his bags. He hugged Fred and Gunn goodbye, shared a nod with Groo and shook hands with Wesley before heading out and tossing his things into the convertible. He took a moment for one last look at Angel Investigations then drove off.
Through all that, Cordelia stared up at the stairs completely stunned. The last person to speak to her like that who wasn’t evil was Xander. And Xander had always couched his remarks in humour. This was the first time anyone had ever torn into her like that, and had no mercy. It didn’t help when Gunn walked by her and said, “Had it comin’.”
******************
In the transdimensional existence the Powers inhabited, there was much debate over the question of why the warriors had not yet reunited. It was decided another sign was needed as dreams were deemed insufficient.
******************
Buffy had been suffering from nausea every morning, bizarre cravings, lower back pain, swollen ankles, and a constant need to pee. When she finally gave in and went to see the doctor, she received a shock. “I’m pregnant?!”
“Yes,” said Dr. Keller for the third time. “I take it this is something of a surprise?”
“Yeah,” Buffy replied breathlessly, “You could say that.” To say she was shocked would be an understatement. The last person she had slept with was Spike, and he couldn’t have children. The last person with whom she could have children that she had slept with was Riley, and that had been more than a year previous. Which left her baby fatherless. Literally.
“Well, I have a list here of dietary restrictions for the duration of the pregnancy,” the doctor handed Buffy a sheet of paper, “And a couple of books for you to read. I would also suggest that you sign up for some sort of parenting class like lamaze.”
In a daze, Buffy took her lists and left for home. Buffy reviewed everything that had happened to her over the past several months to try to determine how she had wound up two and a half months pregnant. Absolutely nothing came to her. When she got home, all her friends were camped out in the living room. Willow took one look at her friend’s face, and reached a conclusion.
“Oh, Buffy. We’ll get through this. You’ll see.” She smiled encouragingly at Buffy.
Buffy stared at her for a moment then said, “How could you tell?”
“I’m your best friend Buffy. I can tell these things,” Willow pulled Buffy into a hug, “That and it is written all over your face.”
“Oh,” the Slayer hugged her friend back. “Look, I need you guys to do some research.”
Willow frowned slightly and glanced at the others, all of whom were completely baffled as to what Buffy and Willow were talking about. “What about?” she asked hesitantly.
Buffy took a deep breath and looked rather grimly amused as she said, “Well, how this happened. I do need to know if this is some demon’s fault or whatever.”
Willow hesitantly patted Buffy’s shoulder, “Uh Buffy, I know this might be hard to accept,” she carefully looked Buffy in the eye as though she expected her to attack any second. “I mean, we went through this with your mother-”
“What does my mother have to do with this?” Buffy demanded staring at her friend in complete befuddlement, “Other than the fact that she’d be completely bonkers.”
The hacker took a breath and gathered herself, “I know finding out you’re terminally ill must be hard but-”
“Dying?”
“Buffy’s sick?!”
“Terminally ill?”
“Oh God!”
A babble of voices swirled around the room as Buffy just stood there blinking at Willow. Finally she pulled herself together enough to say, “I’m not dying.”
Which merely prompted Anya to state, “That’s denial. I read all about it after Joyce’s unfortunate . . . um. After.”
Willow took this supposed fact and ran with it, “Going into denial won’t make this go away Buffy.” Dawn used this as an opportunity to launch herself at her sister and cling to her as though by the sheer force of her grip she could keep Buffy from slipping away.
Finally Buffy just put two fingers in her mouth and taxi whistled. Before the cacophony could restart she said, “I’m pregnant! How did you get the idea I was dying?”
With that far more happy piece of news, Buffy found herself buried under the enthusiastic embraces of her friends. When the group finally settled down Buffy explained her situation. So the research commenced.
And it produced nothing but proof that Buffy was not apparently pregnant by a demon, she was not involved in any prophesied pregnancy, she had not been raped then blocked the memory from her mind, and absolutely no one believed that this was some sort of immaculate conception. That was just ridiculous.
And so it was a week after they began the research that Xander slammed his book shut and stated firmly, “I say we call Giles and have him look this up. I, for one, think we are way out of our league on the research for this.”
Buffy sighed and massaged her temples, she thought Xander was right, but, “We can’t. Giles left to find himself or whatever, and I can’t interrupt that. Besides, since his excuse was that I need to be on my own more, he probably wouldn’t help us anyway.”
At that blunt statement everyone looked up from their books and scrolls and various research materials to stare at her. Buffy had never said anything so openly critical of any member of their group before, barring when she was upset. But Buffy didn’t look upset, merely tired. They also had to admit that she seemed to be right.
Dawn had been allowed to join in the search for a cause of Buffy’s (progressing completely normally but for that little hitch with there being no father) pregnancy, so even as everyone deflated and returned to their work, she perked up, “Oh! I got it!”
“Got what?” asked Tara.
Willow hurried over, “You know why Buffy’s pregnant?”
“No,” replied Dawn. She found herself on the receiving end of several angry glares for getting their hopes up. “What I meant was that I know who we can ask for help.”
“Who?” snapped Anya. She was tired, cranky, and losing a lot of money to this search for a mystical cause to a pregnancy that the Slayer was probably just trying to make into a bigger deal than it was.
“Wesley,” said Dawn as though this was the most obvious statement in the world, “He’s a watcher like Giles, and Angel’s got lots of Books and stuff we don’t. Maybe he can help.”
“Dawn, you are a genius!” Xander said, slamming his book shut again. He was behind any move for him to do less research. “Buffy, call him,” he ordered.
With everyone looking at her expectantly Buffy slowly went to the phone and dialled the number for Angel Investigations. It rang three times before it was answered by an unfamiliar male voice, “Angel Investigations.”
Buffy clearly heard Cordelia hiss in the background, “Say ‘We help the helpless’!”
The man’s next words were muffled as though he had put his hand over the receiver. “Cordy, if you want someone to say that you’re gonna have to answer the phone yourself. Now shut up and let me talk!” There was a moment and then his voice came back over the line, “Sorry about that. How can we help you?”
Amused in spite of herself Buffy said, “Tell Cordelia that no one should be expected to answer the phone with a tongue twister like ‘We help the helpless’. It’s gonna become ‘We help the hopeless’ too soon.”
“Who is this?” the man’s voice became suspicious.
“Buffy Summers,” she replied.
“Buffy Summers. The Buffy Summers?” he sounded both surprised and impressed, “As in Angel’s chick?”
Buffy felt her eyebrows disappear into her hairline at that. “Angel’s. Chick.” The phrase got the attention of her friends listening to Buffy’s half of the conversation. Willow and Dawn both made a move to get the other phone, but Buffy motioned for both to sit.
“Uh . . . That is, I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” he placated, “My name’s Gunn.” At that moment voices began to come over from Gunn’s end of the line, all demanding to know why Buffy was calling.
“Well, Gunn,” Buffy was still entertained by the sound of Cordelia ranting in the background about the “Damned Slayer! She makes everything suck! It’s all her fault I’m stuck here instead of being rich and happy!”
“I need to talk to Wesley actually, but tell Cordelia for me that if she really believes that she needs to check into a mental institution.” There were a couple of minutes of shuffling on the phone, Cordelia’s cry of “Hey! Same to you Summers!” then finally Wesley was on the line.
He cleared his throat then said, “Hello Buffy. I assume you called for a reason other than to taunt Cordelia from a distance.”
She chuckled, “I did.” Now came the hard part. “I’m pregnant Wes.” Maybe not so hard.
“And you are telling me this because . . . “ he trailed off clearly waiting for her to finish the thought.
“The baby has no father,” as he spluttered Buffy hastily continued, “I mean I didn’t sleep with anyone and we can’t find a demon or a prophecy or anything on it.”
Wesley’s sigh of relief was clearly audible, “So you’re asking me if I could look into possible causes other than the more mundane ones.”
“Yeah. Since Giles went back to England we haven’t exactly been the research mavens,” Buffy said wryly.
“Well, I shall see what I can find.” There was a pause then Wesley asked, “What should I tell Angel?”
Buffy bit her lip and, despite having already come to her conclusion as far as that topic went, seriously considered her response, “Nothing,” she said finally.
“Nothing? Buffy are you quite certain-”
“I’m sure,” she replied, “It’ll just depress him, and . . . I don’t want to throw something like this in his face,” she smiled sadly, “I’ve already done enough to him over Riley. I regret that so much.”
“I assume you wish me to keep this to myself,” Wesley stated.
“Yeah. Thanks Wes,” Buffy said softly.
They said their goodbyes, and hung up.
*********************
Wesley turned away from the telephone feeling somewhat conflicted. On the one hand he knew he ought to respect Buffy’s wishes concerning this child, if child it was, but on the other hand Angel was still close enough to her to have the right to know of this. Still, he had more or less given his word he would not tell anyone, and Buffy did need answers that he might be able to provide. He would keep the secret.
Several weeks later he still had nothing to show for his efforts though.
*********************
Angel woke from yet another dream of Buffy. This time there had been no children in the dream, but there were baby monitors and they had spoken of the need to be quiet while the kids were in the house. Especially when they had been making love in the shower.
He firmly shook himself, the urge to drive to Sunnydale and Buffy nearly overwhelming his determination to stay away. Angel got up and headed for the shower, in an attempt to scour away the memories of the very vivid dream. The shower was a bad place to do so because it merely brought the latest fantasy more into focus.
Getting out, he dressed and went on the hunt. Stalking the streets did little to ease the Buffy related tension in his chest and elsewhere, but it did relieve the stress that had been building ever since Cordelia had first told him to be less ‘vampire-y’ and he listened to her. Catching the scent of another hunting vampire Angel traced it, stalked it, and swooped in for the kill when his prey attacked the objects of its stalking.
The surprise assault caught the vampire off guard and Angel merely plunged the stake through its chest with no preamble. It was more satisfying than all the bloody battles he had been involved in over the past year and a half. Simply because he had been able to track and kill his way with no interference or whining humans to hold him up.
“Thanks man,” said the young man Angel had just saved from becoming a meal, “That guy was majorly weird.”
“Like totally!” squealed the woman he was with. Angel raised an eyebrow at her as she continued, “I was like, so scared. Y’know? Do you think he’ll, like, come back?” She reached out and tried to cling to Angel, much to the irritation of her boyfriend.
Angel shook her off and said, “No.” Then he turned and swept away. Coat billowing behind him, he made the graceful exit that had been his trademark until Cordelia began trailing after him, and vanished into the night. The rest of the night was spent patrolling the streets, moving from shadow to shadow as he stalked the killers that waited there.
At the end of the night he was exhausted but satisfied. It had been better than sex. He reached into his fridge and pulled out some blood for a quick snack before bed. Collapsing onto the sheets he found that, like so many other things, sleep came much more easily when he was sleeping during the day. He drifted off thinking that the only thing that would make it easier would be Buffy curled by his side.
********************
At four and a half months pregnant Buffy was beginning to show. That lead to hours of shopping with friends who soon became terrified of being trapped at the mall with the hormonally imbalanced Slayer.
“Buffy, we’ve been here for five hours. Can’t we at least eat at the food court?” Dawn pleaded with her sister. Dawn liked shopping as much as the next teenager but her sister was on a rampage.
“Dawn!” Buffy sternly reprimanded her, “I need clothes that are gonna fit in a couple months that don’t make me look like a dork. I can’t hold off shopping because who knows what’s going to be here then?” she explained.
In desperation Dawn played her trump card, “Buffy, what about the budget? You know your DMP cheque’ll only pay so much.”
Which set off a wild mood swing, “Oh God. How am I going to raise this kid. I don’t know anything about babies,” Buffy began to weep in earnest, “I won’t have enough money, and you’ll have to go to a sucky college and its all my fault,” she sobbed. Dawn cast about frantically for some way to get Buffy to stop.
“Why don’t we go to the food court and get some frozen yogurt?” she suggested. This magically dried Buffy’s tears and the two hurried off in the direction of the yogurty goodness. They were stopped on their way by a demon being chased by a man in a long dark coat with dark spiky hair.
“Angel,” Buffy whispered with a smile, then she whipped a knife out of her purse and followed her ex-boyfriend into battle. Dawn stood on the sidelines and muttered about how Buffy was supposed to be avoiding strenuous activities for the baby, and how her sister’s Ob-Gyn was going to kill them both.
When the demon was dead and melting at their feet, Buffy and Angel faced each other. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
They stood, staring uncomfortably at each other, until Angel’s acute hearing caught the sound of the four heartbeats emanating from Buffy. “You’re pregnant?” he demanded.
“How did you . . . Yeah,” responded the Slayer, “How did you know?” She was going to kill Wesley for telling him . . .
“I can hear the extra heartbeats.” He concentrated for a moment, “How many are there?”
She smiled slightly, “I’m having triplets. Two girls and a boy.”
Dawn stared at her sister. Buffy had quite clearly stated she wanted to be surprised, and had even bluntly refused to hear about it from the doctor at her last checkup. How she could be so definite about the genders was a mystery.
“Oh,” he said, sounding somewhat faint. “I . . . I have to leave.” With that he turned on his heel and vanished into the crowds. Buffy looked as though she was about to break into tears again, so Dawn simply hauled her sister home.
*******************
Angel was feeling stunned, and let his feet carry him where they would. He was paying no attention to his surroundings, which was what allowed the small band of fledgling vampires to get the drop on him. The feeling of a metal pipe slamming into the back of his head brought him back to reality. Unfortunately it was too late, and they swarmed him. As he hit the sidewalk he thought he heard Gunn’s excuse for a war cry. Then everything went black.
When he woke up he was in his apartment at the Hyperion with Fred staring at him nervously. Noticing he was conscious she said, “Oh! You’re awake! I was so worried you weren’t gonna wake up, which is really kinda ridiculous when you think about it what with you bein’ a vampire and all, and how you’ll heal from practically anything and Wesley said you were fine, but I wasn’t sure until you woke up. Here’s some blood,” she thrust a mug at him, then scampered from the room calling for Wesley.
Gunn arrived a moment later and simply flopped into the chair by Angel’s bedside. “So, how’d those vamps manage to getcha?” he asked with a sardonic smirk.
“I was . . . Distracted,” Angel replied. He started to glance around for his shirt, and found Gunn tossing him a white t-shirt. “Where’s my shirt?”
“It got trashed,” his friend said, “What was so distractin’ you missed those guys until they hit you with a lead pipe?” Gunn leaned back waiting for an answer as Angel put the shirt on.
Angel sighed as the question brought to mind the distraction. “Buffy’s pregnant with triplets.”
The implications made Gunn’s eyes widen, “Your ex-girl’s got a bun in the oven? Whoa."
“Yeah,” Angel said glumly, “She’s found someone she’s comfortable enough with to carry his children.” Gunn patted Angel comfortingly on the back.
“No she hasn’t,” Wesley said startling the other two men. He had slipped into the room unnoticed.
His eyes narrowed, Angel asked, “How do you know?”
Wesley bit his lip looking conflicted. However, since he hadn’t actually said he wouldn’t tell anyone, he took a deep breath and said, “I know because Buffy contacted me on the topic of those triplets. She has not . . . Been with anyone recently enough to explain the children, and was searching for an explanation.”
Fury crossed the vampire’s face, “Is there a reason you didn’t tell me before?”
“She asked me not to.” Wesley looked levelly at his friend. Angel simply launched to his feet and began to pace the room irritably.
“What do you know?” he demanded of the watcher. So Wesley told Angel everything he knew, which wasn’t much. Angel continued to circle the room as the explanation was made, and then whirled on Wes again, “How many people know about this?”
“Buffy’s friends, me, and now you and Gunn.”
“She didn't want me to know?” Even though he looked angry, Wesley caught the sadness in Angel’s voice.
Wesley said gently, “She said she had no wish to throw the children in your face as she did with Riley. That what she said about Riley was one of her greater regrets.”
The set look on Angel’s face vanished and he sank to the bed tiredly. “I just want . . .” He trailed off, unsure of what he did want. The other two simply lent their presence as comfort. The moment was interrupted by Cordelia having a vision of Eysh demons setting fire to sacrifices.
*******************
Buffy woke up from her latest dream of her, Angel and the triplets, and had a startling realisation. She rolled over in bed and reached for the phone to call Wesley. It took six rings for him to answer the phone, but he did. “Whoever this is, it had better be of reasonable importance,” he yawned.
“Wes, I just realised I’ve been having dreams about the triplets,” Buffy said hurriedly before Wesley hung up on her, “I need to find out if the dreams are telling me something or if I’m just making stuff up.”
The rapidly spoken words took a moment to sink through the watcher’s sleep fogged mind. When they did he sat bolt upright and asked, “When you say you’ve ‘been having dreams about the triplets’ how long are we speaking of?”
“Um . . . “ Buffy started to hedge, “Well, it’s been a while, and I can’t remember when they became an every night sort of deal-”
“How long?” Wesley demanded flatly.
“About when they would have been conceived.”
He flopped backward onto his pillows and asked, “And just why was it that you neglected to mention these dreams before?”
“Uh . . . Well . . . I sort of um . . .” Buffy fiddled with the phone cord as she tried to put a not bad face on her response.
“You sort of what?” Wesley inquired grumpily.
“Forgot?” Buffy said hesitantly. In response Wesley heaved a deeply resigned sigh and began to question Buffy about the dreams. After having wangled every detail he could from her, he instructed the Slayer to come to LA. She would sing for Lorne, and they would go on from there based on what the demon read.
Buffy arrived several hours later and tramped up the stairs, visibly pregnant. The entire LA crew was waiting for her as she entered the lobby. “God, Buffy, you know that when they say you’re eating for two or whatever, the second person isn’t a sumo wrestler,“ said Cordelia cattily.
Angel shushed her and hurried forward to offer Buffy a chair, but she waved him off. “You must be Lorne,” she said smiling at the green man in question, “Wes told me I have to sing. Is it okay if I sing along with a CD?”
“Absolutely gorgeous,” he said with a smile of his own, “I take it you have the album in question with you.” In response Buffy pulled the disc out of her purse and looked around for a player. To Cordelia’s disgust Gunn leapt up to take the office player out from behind the counter.
Buffy put the disc in and moved it to the track she wanted, shrugged, and started to sing along with the band.
//I wanna feel just like before
Before the rain came in my door
Shook me up turned me around
Made me cry till I would drown//
At those words Angel stiffened, and began to look incredibly guilty. Buffy, with a twinkle in her eye continued blithely on.
//Stole the daylight brought the night
So much anger I would fight
Lost my youth amid the blue
Saw all the loneliness in you//
Lorne stood listening raptly. A small part of his mind noted that it seemed that all the evil fighters on the face of the planet seemed to be flawed in the area of musical talent. She was a better singer than Angel, Cordelia or Fred, but that wasn’t saying much. A much larger part of his mind was listening to the melody beneath her words.
//Wanna help you give you love
Shine some light out from the mud
Fill the empty find a rhyme
A brighter day a better time//
Her aura was already fairly visible, but Lorne could see the way it had brightened when she looked at Angel. As the song continued, it did more than merely brighten, it seemed to pulse in time with Angel’s, both brightening when the pair made eye contact.
//But I’m wondering where I’m gone
Can’t find the truth within my song
And all I have I’ll give to you
To let you know you’re not alone//
He could see the couple’s connection to the three small auras still within the Slayer. Both Angel and Buffy could be seen in those little glow balls at the Slayer’s middle. Then she brought her eyes to meet Angel’s.
//I’m telling you:
I’m smiling for you only
I’m trying for you solely
I’m praying for you only
No more cry, no more, cry//
When she began to sing directly to the vampire, sparks flew. Certainly on the psychic plane it was practically blinding. Lorne had thought before he saw kyerumption between Angel and Cordelia. Boy had he been wrong.
//I wanna hear you laugh again
Without the ache to bring you down
No we’ll never be the same
If only I could take your pain
But it’s true what people say
There is beauty in each day
We’ll find comfort in her strength
One day soon we’ll meet again//
Suddenly Lorne noticed something odd about Angel’s soul. Aside from the fact that he could read it as clearly as if it were the vampire singing (thank God that wasn’t the case) it looked more . . . settled than he had ever seen it. Lorne frowned and squinted as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
//I’m telling you:
I’m smiling for you only
I’m trying for you solely
I’m praying for you only
No more cry, no more cry//
Then he understood. As a sometime member of Angel Investigations, Lorne had naturally learned the story of Angel and how he lost his soul. More, he had become used to an inherent instability within Angel’s soul and had learned how to compensate for it in his readings. Somehow, that instability was gone. That soul was going nowhere.
//I’m singing for you only
I worry for you only
I’m praying for you only
No more cry, no more cry//
He tapped the Slayer on the shoulder saying, “Thanks hon, but I’ve seen enough.” She stopped and frowned slightly at him.
“So?” she asked. Angel had come up behind her, and the two had unconsciously pulled together.
//Reach out for your love
Shout out for your love
Listen for your love
Believe in her love//
Lorne smiled at just how cute they were together and said, “You were right sweetheart. The kids are Angel’s.”
Angel stared at his green friend, completely bewildered, “How . . . But . . . Buffy and I-”
Lorne shrugged, “Sometimes the lesser powers that work for the Powers make mistakes. Connor’s mother was supposed to be this petite blonde, not the one you wound up pounding into the wall. You were supposed to have shanshued on that day Buffy here won’t tell you she remembers, and gotten another couple kids out of it.”
//I’m telling you
I’m telling you
I’m smiling for you only
I’m trying for you solely
I’m praying for you only
No more cry, no more cry//
Buffy burst into tears and threw herself into Angel’s arms. He held her looking distinctly befuddled. “So now what? I can’t be with Buffy, and the children deserve their mother.”
“Ah, but that’s the beauty of this all my friend,” said Lorne jovially, “Your soul has been made permanent to allow you to be a father to these kids, and because that lovely crying bundle in your arms is your soulmate.”
//I’m singing for you only
I worry for you only
But it’s you saves me from lonely//
Buffy looked up from Angel’s chest, her face still wet, and snuffled slightly, “I love you Angel,” she said. That decided him, and he leaned down to kiss her, the last of the restlessness in him dissipating with her gentle touch.
//No more cry, no more cry
No no more cry, (no more cry)//
The world around them disappeared as their lips met, and Angel felt Buffy press against him, gasping in protest when he left her mouth to let her breathe, only to moan happily when his mouth found the scar on her neck and began to nibble on the skin around it.
The rest of AI hurried off when it became apparent the couple weren’t going to resurface from each other any time soon. Not that the couple slowly beginning the trek up to Angel’s apartment noticed. They had reached the landing when their need became too urgent.
When Angel slid into her, both felt a massive wrong in their world right itself. Both knew then that their long days of loneliness were over. Much later, Buffy lay curled on his chest, feeling tears well up because she was so happy.
“What’s wrong?” Angel looked at her, concerned.
She beamed down at him, “I guess I’m just so happy I won’t have to cry anymore.”
He chuckled, “You’re crying because you don’t have to cry?”
“Something like that,” she replied, and snuggled down to sleep.
//No more cry//
The End
Back to archive page
Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, and I don’t own the song “No More Cry” by the Corrs either.
Rating: Around PG-13 I guess.
Summary: Sometimes all that’s needed is to fix a few mistakes.
Timeline: Never ask me an episode title, I can’t remember ‘em. So, this story was conceived right after Holtz took Connor into Quartoth. This is a little after that. Naturally Connor died.
Notes: Yes I know this does resemble Angelic Error to a rather large degree. Thing is, this is what was originally supposed to be a kinda dark version of that plot line. Problem is the story got away from me, turned into a songfic at the end, and I think the beginning is completely disjointed from everything else. Hell, I think everything in this is disjointed from everything else in it. The lullaby in Gaelic (which isn’t actually a lullaby) translates as: Horo my nut brown maiden/ Hiri my nut brown maiden. Yes I threw it in for the helluvit.
Feedback: Yes! Comments? Questions? Complaints? Calls for me to hand over my computer before someone gets hurt? scwlc@yahoo.ca
****************
Unfair.
It was unfair.
He was being unfair. The thought was both darkly amusing and maddening simultaneously. Amusing because of the irony, and maddening because of that selfsame irony. If he was still unforgiven the sins he had committed against them, how could Wesley be forgiven this most heinous sin of all?
The watcher had taken Connor and essentially handed him over to a man who wished the child dead. He had the unmitigated gall to plead that a prophecy gave him the right. The others now sided with him and only kept him away for fear of what Angel would do. They did not understand that he would do nothing now.
Nothing was precisely the punishment Wesley deserved. To have his sin or rectitude be ignored by the one he had wronged would allow the guilt to brew inside him. Angel knew all about that. The horror that would eat you up inside even as you pleaded that it wasn’t your fault twisted in your gut until you felt sick with it. He had suffered it for a century and saw it as the only just punishment for Wesley’s crimes.
Even now, he could barely bring himself to keep from staring at the spot where his son once lay. He had taken apart the crib and moved to another room, convincing the others he was moving toward a recovery. It was all a lie of course. He was burying his grief over his son the way he had buried the anguish over Buffy, Doyle, Darla, and everyone he had ever let down or lost.
Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he allowed the madness twisting at the edge of his consciousness in. Would the Powers find someone to replace him, or would they simply drag him back from the comforting emptiness lunacy offered? Their past cruelties suggested the latter. He did not succumb because of some inner strength, he struggled because he could not survive being dragged back to the surface again. He was not drowning, but he couldn’t pull himself from the water either.
So he drifted, caught between the pain of the real world, and the soothing calm of the one of pure insanity that beckoned beneath. To the others he played a game of recovery, treading the thin line between too rapid and too slow pretending that he cared for something other than his own pain. He did not sink into visible despair because he did not wish to suffer the sheer viciousness it would incite in his friends.
Angel bided his time until he was released from this hell his life resembled. Perhaps, in time, they would let him have peace.
*************
In a dimension beyond the comprehension of the human mind fury fell upon the creature cowering before Them. It too, was beyond mortal comprehension, but the differences between it and Them was as vast as that as those between humanity and it.
“You have failed.”
It trembled, “I did not know of the difficulties posed by the curse.”
“You failed.” They were merciless in Their anger. It knew it had failed Them, and that its failure had nowhere to rest other than its shoulders.
“How may I make this mistake right?”
They responded without hesitation, “The plans which were to have been set in motion by their own actions must now be initiated through more artificial means. You will interfere on Our behalf.”
It understood immediately and rose to its feet, “I will begin at once,” it responded.
With that They withdrew and it left to perform the task which would set right the grievous errors it had committed during its time guarding and watching the warriors. Scooping up the three souls of the children that were to belong to the warriors, the angel made its way down to Earth so that the warriors might regain the offspring that were to have been theirs.
******************
“Buffy! Buffy, wake up!”
The Slayer slowly blinked as she surfaced from the really weird dream she’d had, the fourth in as many weeks, to see Willow and Tara standing at the foot of her bed looking worried as they stage whispered at her. She yawned, “Whassup?”
Tara glanced nervously at the door as Willow whispered, “Dawn’s cooking and she wants us to eat it. We need to distract her so we can get rid of the pancakes. I told her I was getting you up for breakfast, and Tara pretended she had to go to the bathroom.”
Buffy rolled her eyes, “Please. You’re freaked out because of the enchiladas. Dawn is completely capable of making decent food.” The pair stared doubtfully at the Slayer as she stood up and slumped downstairs calling, “Dawn! Could you make some extra for me? I’m really hungry this morning!”
“Sure,” replied her sister when Buffy plunked into one of the kitchen chairs. “Where are Willow and Tara?”
Buffy smirked, “They ran when they heard you were cooking.”
Dawn’s cheerful smile turned chagrined, “Willow told her about the enchiladas didn’t she?”
“Yup.”
She frowned in puzzlement, “Why am I making extra then? You can have Willow and Tara’s portions.”
“Hey! Do I smell food?” Xander waltzed in, as he always did, without knocking, and scooped the four just finished pancakes off the plate where they sat stuffing them into his mouth.
Dawn blinked, looked at Buffy, then her expression cleared, “Oh,” she said in tones of sudden enlightenment.
“Mmrma?” Xander queried.
Buffy smiled sweetly at him, “Dawn was just asking why she had to make extra when it was just going to be the two of us.”
It took Xander a couple moments to figure out what Buffy was saying. When he did, he had the grace to flush, especially when Anya appeared a moment later bearing the plans for Xander And Anya’s Wedding: Take Two. She too scooped up the pancakes meant for Buffy who roller her eyes saying, “Am I good, or am I good?”
Anya shot Buffy an annoyed look, “I don’t know what you are referring to so I shall ignore it. Xander, I want you to have different colour scheme this time. Less turquoise, more fuchia." The sisters winced in unison at the thought of being Anya’s bridesmaids a second time.
It was on Dawn’s third try that Buffy finally got to have her pancakes. With all the madness associated with Anya’s second attempt at a perfect wedding Buffy forgot about the strange dream she had. Spike’s appearance on patrol made completely certain she didn’t remember.
“Slayer! I see you’ve come by my crypt. You gonna come in for a little-”
Buffy’s response was unequivocal, “No.”
He snorted, “Right. You just came by here on patrol.” His expression was equally unyielding.
“Listen Spike, I know I’ve said some terrible things to you during the past couple months, and it’s true I don’t hate you. But I don’t love you, and I never will.” Buffy looked at him gravely. It took a moment for her words to get to him, and when they did he smiled.
“So you do admit it. You really feel something for me!” He was so ecstatic Buffy was almost sorry to burst his bubble.
She looked at him a little sadly. The childlike joy he displayed at the thought that she did love him was virtually painful to witness. It wasn’t his fault she had used him as a replacement for Angel after all. “Spike, at most what I feel for you is friendship. You’ve been there for me and Dawn in ways none of my other friends could be, but I don’t love you. Not the way you want me to.”
“So that’s it hunh?” his face darkened, and fury crossed his features, “All I am to you is someone to play with for the fun of it? I thought Angelus was the master of torture.”
Buffy flinched, “That’s not fair! I was-”
“Adjusting. Yeah I know the drill,” he said bitterly, “Y’know what slayer? I’m leavin’. I’ll be out of your hair by sunrise.” With that he turned on his heel and strode into the night. Buffy watched him go, uncertain of whether she felt relief at his departure or sadness. He had been a friend when she needed one most, and she had repaid him with cruelty. On the other hand, he was a conscienceless demon.
In the end Buffy went home and went to bed having decided that there was nothing she could do now. Either he stuck around, or he left. She’d deal whichever happened. Of course, either way she was going to make Dawn spend more time with her peers. The girl really needed some friends her own age. With that thought, Buffy curled up and went to sleep.
********************
She opened her eyes to the kitchen and the sight of Angel smiling at her holding a baby. “Angel?”
He simply turned to the baby and began to sing to her, “Ho rò mo nighean donn bhòidheach,” he began to walk with the child, “Hi rì mo nighean donn bhòidheach,” he continued to pace and sing. Buffy drifted to a bassinet in the corner, and saw two more babies sleeping in it.
“Angel, what’s going on?” Buffy walked up to him, and found herself holding the baby.
“She has your eyes.” He leaned over to brush a kiss on her forehead.
Buffy found herself responding as though this was the most natural thing in the world, “Maybe, but that’s the only thing she got from me.”
He gave her that sexy half smile, “I’m going to have to keep the boys away from both of them when they get older.”
“Great I’ll have to be the voice of reason. You know I hate that,” she grinned at him. They leaned together, and she closed her eyes in anticipation. She could feel the cool brush of his breath as he leaned closer-
Then she woke up.
********************
Angel sat up with a gasp. Dreaming of Buffy and Connor was hardly an odd occurrence. This dream was different however. She had been there, rocking Connor and singing to him in Gaelic, but there had also been twin girls. They had talked about the girls, and had been about to kiss when he’d woken up.
For a moment Angel was tempted to try going back to sleep and returning to that dream world. Unfortunately he knew that would be both futile and it wouldn’t help him with his self-appointed task of moving past this loss. He was having a lot of trouble coping with Connor’s death as it was, and fantasising that he, Buffy and Connor were a happy family was a luxury of denial he could little afford.
So instead of curling into a ball and weeping as he wished to, Angel got out of bed, dressed, and headed downstairs. Wesley was there already, working desperately in his attempt to prove to the others that he was a good little employee of the company. When it all came down to it, they were under Cordelia’s thumb. The agency had been since day one. She had created it almost single handed, and had taken it upon herself to be the disciplinarian and core.
Somehow, his search for personal redemption had been co-opted by the aspiring actress, and now he stared across the lobby of a hotel that had died with the fifties, at a man who should have died from a slit throat, and wondered when he had become such a pushover.
He greeted the other, now fallen into the same trap he had more than a year ago. On second thoughts, with hindsight, he realised he should never have begged the others for forgiveness. It was his own fault for not letting the others understand better what he was. Still, the only person who had . . . He cut that thought off the moment it started to form.
Angel sat in the office that was again nominally his, and steepled his fingers before him. He watched as Gunn, Cordelia, Groo and Fred gradually filed into the hotel lobby, and waited for them to settle down before he came out to make an announcement that was sure to throw them into a complete tizzy.
“Angel, hey,” Cordelia’s bright smile, showing the long hours of practice behind it, made him want to wince, but he maintained the stoic facade that had been his trademark for years.
“Cordelia,” he nodded acknowledgement to the small collection of people.
Groo’s naive grin widened as he said, “Angel. It is good to see that you have emerged once more to battle the evils that beset this city.” His stilted phrasing reminded Angel of nothing so much as the hack dialogue from a children’s cartoon, and for a moment he had an insane vision of dropping an anvil on the man’s head to shut him up.
Wesley was silent, waiting to hear what the vampire had to say, while Gunn and Fred were in their own world. He took a deep breath to steady himself and said, “Guys, there’s no easy way to explain this, but I want you to understand that I think I have to do this.
“I’m a vampire,” he held up a hand to forestall the responses to that statement, “And I think that it’s something I need to reconnect with. So, I’m moving out of the hotel, and I’m going to try being on my own for a while.” He shot a look around the room that managed to quell their protests. “I’ll leave you guys a phone number and address for emergencies, but since you’ve got Groo now, I doubt you’ll need me for too much.”
Fred was the first to respond, “Angel, I know Connor dyin’ was hard on you, but do you really think runnin’ away’s gonna help?”
“This isn’t about Connor Fred. It’s about me trying to be human. I’m not. It’s something I need to do.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to put into words concepts he was unsure any of the others really understood. “Guys, I do appreciate your whole ‘get Angel to be more human’ kick, but you need to understand that there’s this . . . need inside me for something more than just these cases we work on.”
Cordelia glared at him, “So what you’re saying is you’re abandoning us again.”
“No, I-”
Gunn didn’t give him a chance to respond, “Sounds like it to me. You’re gonna go all evil again and leave us to pick up after you.”
“That’s not-”
Cordelia snarled at him, “Oh yes it is! You’re taking off, we’re gonna have to deal with everything all on our own, while you go on some moronic mission of vengeance or something.”
Hurt, Angel started to rethink his position. Then Groo spoke up, “Perhaps we ought to allow Angel to finish his speech. He did not seem to be speaking of abandonment. It may not be as you think.” The champion’s guileless words brought a halt to the recriminations.
“It is true,” Wesley pointed out, “That Angel had said he will give us places and telephone numbers at which to contact him. It is also true that with . . . Groo,” he said sounding mildly perplexed at the name, “Present, we do have another fighter with the supernatural advantages we frequently need.”
Smiling gratefully at the two, and receiving two smiles, one cheery, the other equally grateful, in return, Angel tried again. “Look, it’s just that . . .” he frowned, searching for the words, “That I need to hunt alone for a while. I’m more than just a really strong person, and I think I should relearn the part of me that’s demon.”
The expressions on his friends’ faces said everything. Fred and Wesley looked briefly confused, then understanding. Gunn’s was unreadable until his gaze slid away. Groo looked . . . Well, Groo always looked like that, and Angel very much doubted that little boy eagerness would leave the Pylean native’s face any time soon. Cordelia, on the other hand, looked grim and stubborn. “So you’re gonna what? Kill a bunch of people to get in touch with your evil killer side?”
“There’s more to being a vampire than just killing Cordy,” he said, “Putting aside the strata of vampire society, there are certain instincts that I can’t suppress. It’s driving me nuts, and working with you guys, I can’t use them for fear of driving you all away.”
Groo looked baffled at Angel’s words, but Gunn seemed relieved, “As long as I don’t gotta track ya down and kill you, do what ya gotta do.”
“So that’s it?” Cordy demanded, “You’re just gonna let him walk out of here?”
Groo gently patted her, “Princess, many warriors find they have need of quests to determine their destinies. I suspect this is much the same for Angel.”
“But that’s what he’s doing with us,” Cordelia whined.
Fred ignored her and walked up to Angel, “So long as you’re not leavin’ again I guess I’m okay with it.”
He smiled at her, then addressed the group, “I’ve already packed,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper, “Here’s the place I’m staying, the phone number, and directions. I decided to leave before anything else came up.”
Cordelia launched herself at him eyes flashing with anger, “So basically, you’ve been planning on taking off for weeks,” she hissed, “I can’t believe you! All you ever think of is yourself!” she glanced at the others, clearly expecting support.
“Oh no,” Gunn said, “I ain’t gettin’ involved. I think Angel might be right about this. Besides, he’s not takin’ off again, he’s just movin' someplace where he can be on his own.” With that he headed for the seats in the lobby to watch the show.
Fred followed her boyfriend, “I mean lots of people need time away from work,” she added, “Angel lives right over the office. Maybe he just needs some space away from here.”
Cordelia turned to Groo, but he said, “We cannot interfere in a warrior’s himbulfrax.”
Silence followed that statement until Fred spoke up, “It’s like a quest for personal enlightenment,” she explained. Groo nodded enthusiastically.
Wesley and Angel shared a glance that spoke volumes about how much Groo’s cheerful exuberance unsettled them both. Cordelia caught it, and suddenly her face settled into a crafty expression. She had once played her parents off each other to get whatever she wanted, and she was going to use that skill now.
“Wesley?” she asked, her face returning to its previous mask of anger even as she schemed.
“What?” then he remembered, “No. I think we have been most remiss in understanding Angel’s needs as a vampire. It may be-”
She cut him off, “Right. Mr. ‘I think Connor is in danger from Angel so I’m gonna kidnap him instead of asking for help’.”
Wesley winced, “Cordelia, that has nothing to do with this.”
“Uh-huh,” she replied, “I think it does. You’re feeling so guilty about taking Connor you’ll do anything to get Angel to forgive you.”
“That’s just not-” he tried to explain, but Angel could see he was wavering. Which was when he came to a sudden realisation.
“That is enough Cordelia.” The ex-cheerleader stared at Angel as though she’d never seen him before. No one had ever spoken to her like that.
“What are you talking about?” she demanded.
Angel glared at her, turning a look on her that made everyone draw away several steps. “I’m talking about you using Wesley’s guilt to get him to support you. I’m talking about the way you manipulate everyone around you to do what you want. Ever since you walked into my life you’ve twisted and manipulated people to your own benefit. You marched into my quest for redemption and changed it into a way for you to have a job. You still don’t realise that fault was equally distributed between all of us for my fling with the dark side last year. You used the fact that I felt guilty to get new clothes out of me, and don’t talk about how I never showed that I cared for you then, because you were the one who threw me out of the hospital when I went to see if Wesley was alright.
“Not to mention, do you know why the zombie police officers stopped attacking when they did? I went and stopped the man who raised them. The reason Anne’s shelter is still running? I ripped a couple million off of Wolfram and Hart and gave that blood money to her. Don’t tell me I care nothing for anyone other than myself.
“The only person here who has any right to be as unforgiving to Wesley as you are being, is me. You all may have cared for Connor, but he was my son. Not yours. Not to mention that you have been demanding that I forgive Wesley for his error for weeks now, and the moment you think it would come in handy, you use his conscience against him. I am sick of being under your control Cordelia. I am my own person. We all are. If you can’t accept that maybe you ought to rethink your position.”
With that, Angel swept up the stairs, returning minutes later with his bags. He hugged Fred and Gunn goodbye, shared a nod with Groo and shook hands with Wesley before heading out and tossing his things into the convertible. He took a moment for one last look at Angel Investigations then drove off.
Through all that, Cordelia stared up at the stairs completely stunned. The last person to speak to her like that who wasn’t evil was Xander. And Xander had always couched his remarks in humour. This was the first time anyone had ever torn into her like that, and had no mercy. It didn’t help when Gunn walked by her and said, “Had it comin’.”
******************
In the transdimensional existence the Powers inhabited, there was much debate over the question of why the warriors had not yet reunited. It was decided another sign was needed as dreams were deemed insufficient.
******************
Buffy had been suffering from nausea every morning, bizarre cravings, lower back pain, swollen ankles, and a constant need to pee. When she finally gave in and went to see the doctor, she received a shock. “I’m pregnant?!”
“Yes,” said Dr. Keller for the third time. “I take it this is something of a surprise?”
“Yeah,” Buffy replied breathlessly, “You could say that.” To say she was shocked would be an understatement. The last person she had slept with was Spike, and he couldn’t have children. The last person with whom she could have children that she had slept with was Riley, and that had been more than a year previous. Which left her baby fatherless. Literally.
“Well, I have a list here of dietary restrictions for the duration of the pregnancy,” the doctor handed Buffy a sheet of paper, “And a couple of books for you to read. I would also suggest that you sign up for some sort of parenting class like lamaze.”
In a daze, Buffy took her lists and left for home. Buffy reviewed everything that had happened to her over the past several months to try to determine how she had wound up two and a half months pregnant. Absolutely nothing came to her. When she got home, all her friends were camped out in the living room. Willow took one look at her friend’s face, and reached a conclusion.
“Oh, Buffy. We’ll get through this. You’ll see.” She smiled encouragingly at Buffy.
Buffy stared at her for a moment then said, “How could you tell?”
“I’m your best friend Buffy. I can tell these things,” Willow pulled Buffy into a hug, “That and it is written all over your face.”
“Oh,” the Slayer hugged her friend back. “Look, I need you guys to do some research.”
Willow frowned slightly and glanced at the others, all of whom were completely baffled as to what Buffy and Willow were talking about. “What about?” she asked hesitantly.
Buffy took a deep breath and looked rather grimly amused as she said, “Well, how this happened. I do need to know if this is some demon’s fault or whatever.”
Willow hesitantly patted Buffy’s shoulder, “Uh Buffy, I know this might be hard to accept,” she carefully looked Buffy in the eye as though she expected her to attack any second. “I mean, we went through this with your mother-”
“What does my mother have to do with this?” Buffy demanded staring at her friend in complete befuddlement, “Other than the fact that she’d be completely bonkers.”
The hacker took a breath and gathered herself, “I know finding out you’re terminally ill must be hard but-”
“Dying?”
“Buffy’s sick?!”
“Terminally ill?”
“Oh God!”
A babble of voices swirled around the room as Buffy just stood there blinking at Willow. Finally she pulled herself together enough to say, “I’m not dying.”
Which merely prompted Anya to state, “That’s denial. I read all about it after Joyce’s unfortunate . . . um. After.”
Willow took this supposed fact and ran with it, “Going into denial won’t make this go away Buffy.” Dawn used this as an opportunity to launch herself at her sister and cling to her as though by the sheer force of her grip she could keep Buffy from slipping away.
Finally Buffy just put two fingers in her mouth and taxi whistled. Before the cacophony could restart she said, “I’m pregnant! How did you get the idea I was dying?”
With that far more happy piece of news, Buffy found herself buried under the enthusiastic embraces of her friends. When the group finally settled down Buffy explained her situation. So the research commenced.
And it produced nothing but proof that Buffy was not apparently pregnant by a demon, she was not involved in any prophesied pregnancy, she had not been raped then blocked the memory from her mind, and absolutely no one believed that this was some sort of immaculate conception. That was just ridiculous.
And so it was a week after they began the research that Xander slammed his book shut and stated firmly, “I say we call Giles and have him look this up. I, for one, think we are way out of our league on the research for this.”
Buffy sighed and massaged her temples, she thought Xander was right, but, “We can’t. Giles left to find himself or whatever, and I can’t interrupt that. Besides, since his excuse was that I need to be on my own more, he probably wouldn’t help us anyway.”
At that blunt statement everyone looked up from their books and scrolls and various research materials to stare at her. Buffy had never said anything so openly critical of any member of their group before, barring when she was upset. But Buffy didn’t look upset, merely tired. They also had to admit that she seemed to be right.
Dawn had been allowed to join in the search for a cause of Buffy’s (progressing completely normally but for that little hitch with there being no father) pregnancy, so even as everyone deflated and returned to their work, she perked up, “Oh! I got it!”
“Got what?” asked Tara.
Willow hurried over, “You know why Buffy’s pregnant?”
“No,” replied Dawn. She found herself on the receiving end of several angry glares for getting their hopes up. “What I meant was that I know who we can ask for help.”
“Who?” snapped Anya. She was tired, cranky, and losing a lot of money to this search for a mystical cause to a pregnancy that the Slayer was probably just trying to make into a bigger deal than it was.
“Wesley,” said Dawn as though this was the most obvious statement in the world, “He’s a watcher like Giles, and Angel’s got lots of Books and stuff we don’t. Maybe he can help.”
“Dawn, you are a genius!” Xander said, slamming his book shut again. He was behind any move for him to do less research. “Buffy, call him,” he ordered.
With everyone looking at her expectantly Buffy slowly went to the phone and dialled the number for Angel Investigations. It rang three times before it was answered by an unfamiliar male voice, “Angel Investigations.”
Buffy clearly heard Cordelia hiss in the background, “Say ‘We help the helpless’!”
The man’s next words were muffled as though he had put his hand over the receiver. “Cordy, if you want someone to say that you’re gonna have to answer the phone yourself. Now shut up and let me talk!” There was a moment and then his voice came back over the line, “Sorry about that. How can we help you?”
Amused in spite of herself Buffy said, “Tell Cordelia that no one should be expected to answer the phone with a tongue twister like ‘We help the helpless’. It’s gonna become ‘We help the hopeless’ too soon.”
“Who is this?” the man’s voice became suspicious.
“Buffy Summers,” she replied.
“Buffy Summers. The Buffy Summers?” he sounded both surprised and impressed, “As in Angel’s chick?”
Buffy felt her eyebrows disappear into her hairline at that. “Angel’s. Chick.” The phrase got the attention of her friends listening to Buffy’s half of the conversation. Willow and Dawn both made a move to get the other phone, but Buffy motioned for both to sit.
“Uh . . . That is, I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” he placated, “My name’s Gunn.” At that moment voices began to come over from Gunn’s end of the line, all demanding to know why Buffy was calling.
“Well, Gunn,” Buffy was still entertained by the sound of Cordelia ranting in the background about the “Damned Slayer! She makes everything suck! It’s all her fault I’m stuck here instead of being rich and happy!”
“I need to talk to Wesley actually, but tell Cordelia for me that if she really believes that she needs to check into a mental institution.” There were a couple of minutes of shuffling on the phone, Cordelia’s cry of “Hey! Same to you Summers!” then finally Wesley was on the line.
He cleared his throat then said, “Hello Buffy. I assume you called for a reason other than to taunt Cordelia from a distance.”
She chuckled, “I did.” Now came the hard part. “I’m pregnant Wes.” Maybe not so hard.
“And you are telling me this because . . . “ he trailed off clearly waiting for her to finish the thought.
“The baby has no father,” as he spluttered Buffy hastily continued, “I mean I didn’t sleep with anyone and we can’t find a demon or a prophecy or anything on it.”
Wesley’s sigh of relief was clearly audible, “So you’re asking me if I could look into possible causes other than the more mundane ones.”
“Yeah. Since Giles went back to England we haven’t exactly been the research mavens,” Buffy said wryly.
“Well, I shall see what I can find.” There was a pause then Wesley asked, “What should I tell Angel?”
Buffy bit her lip and, despite having already come to her conclusion as far as that topic went, seriously considered her response, “Nothing,” she said finally.
“Nothing? Buffy are you quite certain-”
“I’m sure,” she replied, “It’ll just depress him, and . . . I don’t want to throw something like this in his face,” she smiled sadly, “I’ve already done enough to him over Riley. I regret that so much.”
“I assume you wish me to keep this to myself,” Wesley stated.
“Yeah. Thanks Wes,” Buffy said softly.
They said their goodbyes, and hung up.
*********************
Wesley turned away from the telephone feeling somewhat conflicted. On the one hand he knew he ought to respect Buffy’s wishes concerning this child, if child it was, but on the other hand Angel was still close enough to her to have the right to know of this. Still, he had more or less given his word he would not tell anyone, and Buffy did need answers that he might be able to provide. He would keep the secret.
Several weeks later he still had nothing to show for his efforts though.
*********************
Angel woke from yet another dream of Buffy. This time there had been no children in the dream, but there were baby monitors and they had spoken of the need to be quiet while the kids were in the house. Especially when they had been making love in the shower.
He firmly shook himself, the urge to drive to Sunnydale and Buffy nearly overwhelming his determination to stay away. Angel got up and headed for the shower, in an attempt to scour away the memories of the very vivid dream. The shower was a bad place to do so because it merely brought the latest fantasy more into focus.
Getting out, he dressed and went on the hunt. Stalking the streets did little to ease the Buffy related tension in his chest and elsewhere, but it did relieve the stress that had been building ever since Cordelia had first told him to be less ‘vampire-y’ and he listened to her. Catching the scent of another hunting vampire Angel traced it, stalked it, and swooped in for the kill when his prey attacked the objects of its stalking.
The surprise assault caught the vampire off guard and Angel merely plunged the stake through its chest with no preamble. It was more satisfying than all the bloody battles he had been involved in over the past year and a half. Simply because he had been able to track and kill his way with no interference or whining humans to hold him up.
“Thanks man,” said the young man Angel had just saved from becoming a meal, “That guy was majorly weird.”
“Like totally!” squealed the woman he was with. Angel raised an eyebrow at her as she continued, “I was like, so scared. Y’know? Do you think he’ll, like, come back?” She reached out and tried to cling to Angel, much to the irritation of her boyfriend.
Angel shook her off and said, “No.” Then he turned and swept away. Coat billowing behind him, he made the graceful exit that had been his trademark until Cordelia began trailing after him, and vanished into the night. The rest of the night was spent patrolling the streets, moving from shadow to shadow as he stalked the killers that waited there.
At the end of the night he was exhausted but satisfied. It had been better than sex. He reached into his fridge and pulled out some blood for a quick snack before bed. Collapsing onto the sheets he found that, like so many other things, sleep came much more easily when he was sleeping during the day. He drifted off thinking that the only thing that would make it easier would be Buffy curled by his side.
********************
At four and a half months pregnant Buffy was beginning to show. That lead to hours of shopping with friends who soon became terrified of being trapped at the mall with the hormonally imbalanced Slayer.
“Buffy, we’ve been here for five hours. Can’t we at least eat at the food court?” Dawn pleaded with her sister. Dawn liked shopping as much as the next teenager but her sister was on a rampage.
“Dawn!” Buffy sternly reprimanded her, “I need clothes that are gonna fit in a couple months that don’t make me look like a dork. I can’t hold off shopping because who knows what’s going to be here then?” she explained.
In desperation Dawn played her trump card, “Buffy, what about the budget? You know your DMP cheque’ll only pay so much.”
Which set off a wild mood swing, “Oh God. How am I going to raise this kid. I don’t know anything about babies,” Buffy began to weep in earnest, “I won’t have enough money, and you’ll have to go to a sucky college and its all my fault,” she sobbed. Dawn cast about frantically for some way to get Buffy to stop.
“Why don’t we go to the food court and get some frozen yogurt?” she suggested. This magically dried Buffy’s tears and the two hurried off in the direction of the yogurty goodness. They were stopped on their way by a demon being chased by a man in a long dark coat with dark spiky hair.
“Angel,” Buffy whispered with a smile, then she whipped a knife out of her purse and followed her ex-boyfriend into battle. Dawn stood on the sidelines and muttered about how Buffy was supposed to be avoiding strenuous activities for the baby, and how her sister’s Ob-Gyn was going to kill them both.
When the demon was dead and melting at their feet, Buffy and Angel faced each other. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
They stood, staring uncomfortably at each other, until Angel’s acute hearing caught the sound of the four heartbeats emanating from Buffy. “You’re pregnant?” he demanded.
“How did you . . . Yeah,” responded the Slayer, “How did you know?” She was going to kill Wesley for telling him . . .
“I can hear the extra heartbeats.” He concentrated for a moment, “How many are there?”
She smiled slightly, “I’m having triplets. Two girls and a boy.”
Dawn stared at her sister. Buffy had quite clearly stated she wanted to be surprised, and had even bluntly refused to hear about it from the doctor at her last checkup. How she could be so definite about the genders was a mystery.
“Oh,” he said, sounding somewhat faint. “I . . . I have to leave.” With that he turned on his heel and vanished into the crowds. Buffy looked as though she was about to break into tears again, so Dawn simply hauled her sister home.
*******************
Angel was feeling stunned, and let his feet carry him where they would. He was paying no attention to his surroundings, which was what allowed the small band of fledgling vampires to get the drop on him. The feeling of a metal pipe slamming into the back of his head brought him back to reality. Unfortunately it was too late, and they swarmed him. As he hit the sidewalk he thought he heard Gunn’s excuse for a war cry. Then everything went black.
When he woke up he was in his apartment at the Hyperion with Fred staring at him nervously. Noticing he was conscious she said, “Oh! You’re awake! I was so worried you weren’t gonna wake up, which is really kinda ridiculous when you think about it what with you bein’ a vampire and all, and how you’ll heal from practically anything and Wesley said you were fine, but I wasn’t sure until you woke up. Here’s some blood,” she thrust a mug at him, then scampered from the room calling for Wesley.
Gunn arrived a moment later and simply flopped into the chair by Angel’s bedside. “So, how’d those vamps manage to getcha?” he asked with a sardonic smirk.
“I was . . . Distracted,” Angel replied. He started to glance around for his shirt, and found Gunn tossing him a white t-shirt. “Where’s my shirt?”
“It got trashed,” his friend said, “What was so distractin’ you missed those guys until they hit you with a lead pipe?” Gunn leaned back waiting for an answer as Angel put the shirt on.
Angel sighed as the question brought to mind the distraction. “Buffy’s pregnant with triplets.”
The implications made Gunn’s eyes widen, “Your ex-girl’s got a bun in the oven? Whoa."
“Yeah,” Angel said glumly, “She’s found someone she’s comfortable enough with to carry his children.” Gunn patted Angel comfortingly on the back.
“No she hasn’t,” Wesley said startling the other two men. He had slipped into the room unnoticed.
His eyes narrowed, Angel asked, “How do you know?”
Wesley bit his lip looking conflicted. However, since he hadn’t actually said he wouldn’t tell anyone, he took a deep breath and said, “I know because Buffy contacted me on the topic of those triplets. She has not . . . Been with anyone recently enough to explain the children, and was searching for an explanation.”
Fury crossed the vampire’s face, “Is there a reason you didn’t tell me before?”
“She asked me not to.” Wesley looked levelly at his friend. Angel simply launched to his feet and began to pace the room irritably.
“What do you know?” he demanded of the watcher. So Wesley told Angel everything he knew, which wasn’t much. Angel continued to circle the room as the explanation was made, and then whirled on Wes again, “How many people know about this?”
“Buffy’s friends, me, and now you and Gunn.”
“She didn't want me to know?” Even though he looked angry, Wesley caught the sadness in Angel’s voice.
Wesley said gently, “She said she had no wish to throw the children in your face as she did with Riley. That what she said about Riley was one of her greater regrets.”
The set look on Angel’s face vanished and he sank to the bed tiredly. “I just want . . .” He trailed off, unsure of what he did want. The other two simply lent their presence as comfort. The moment was interrupted by Cordelia having a vision of Eysh demons setting fire to sacrifices.
*******************
Buffy woke up from her latest dream of her, Angel and the triplets, and had a startling realisation. She rolled over in bed and reached for the phone to call Wesley. It took six rings for him to answer the phone, but he did. “Whoever this is, it had better be of reasonable importance,” he yawned.
“Wes, I just realised I’ve been having dreams about the triplets,” Buffy said hurriedly before Wesley hung up on her, “I need to find out if the dreams are telling me something or if I’m just making stuff up.”
The rapidly spoken words took a moment to sink through the watcher’s sleep fogged mind. When they did he sat bolt upright and asked, “When you say you’ve ‘been having dreams about the triplets’ how long are we speaking of?”
“Um . . . “ Buffy started to hedge, “Well, it’s been a while, and I can’t remember when they became an every night sort of deal-”
“How long?” Wesley demanded flatly.
“About when they would have been conceived.”
He flopped backward onto his pillows and asked, “And just why was it that you neglected to mention these dreams before?”
“Uh . . . Well . . . I sort of um . . .” Buffy fiddled with the phone cord as she tried to put a not bad face on her response.
“You sort of what?” Wesley inquired grumpily.
“Forgot?” Buffy said hesitantly. In response Wesley heaved a deeply resigned sigh and began to question Buffy about the dreams. After having wangled every detail he could from her, he instructed the Slayer to come to LA. She would sing for Lorne, and they would go on from there based on what the demon read.
Buffy arrived several hours later and tramped up the stairs, visibly pregnant. The entire LA crew was waiting for her as she entered the lobby. “God, Buffy, you know that when they say you’re eating for two or whatever, the second person isn’t a sumo wrestler,“ said Cordelia cattily.
Angel shushed her and hurried forward to offer Buffy a chair, but she waved him off. “You must be Lorne,” she said smiling at the green man in question, “Wes told me I have to sing. Is it okay if I sing along with a CD?”
“Absolutely gorgeous,” he said with a smile of his own, “I take it you have the album in question with you.” In response Buffy pulled the disc out of her purse and looked around for a player. To Cordelia’s disgust Gunn leapt up to take the office player out from behind the counter.
Buffy put the disc in and moved it to the track she wanted, shrugged, and started to sing along with the band.
//I wanna feel just like before
Before the rain came in my door
Shook me up turned me around
Made me cry till I would drown//
At those words Angel stiffened, and began to look incredibly guilty. Buffy, with a twinkle in her eye continued blithely on.
//Stole the daylight brought the night
So much anger I would fight
Lost my youth amid the blue
Saw all the loneliness in you//
Lorne stood listening raptly. A small part of his mind noted that it seemed that all the evil fighters on the face of the planet seemed to be flawed in the area of musical talent. She was a better singer than Angel, Cordelia or Fred, but that wasn’t saying much. A much larger part of his mind was listening to the melody beneath her words.
//Wanna help you give you love
Shine some light out from the mud
Fill the empty find a rhyme
A brighter day a better time//
Her aura was already fairly visible, but Lorne could see the way it had brightened when she looked at Angel. As the song continued, it did more than merely brighten, it seemed to pulse in time with Angel’s, both brightening when the pair made eye contact.
//But I’m wondering where I’m gone
Can’t find the truth within my song
And all I have I’ll give to you
To let you know you’re not alone//
He could see the couple’s connection to the three small auras still within the Slayer. Both Angel and Buffy could be seen in those little glow balls at the Slayer’s middle. Then she brought her eyes to meet Angel’s.
//I’m telling you:
I’m smiling for you only
I’m trying for you solely
I’m praying for you only
No more cry, no more, cry//
When she began to sing directly to the vampire, sparks flew. Certainly on the psychic plane it was practically blinding. Lorne had thought before he saw kyerumption between Angel and Cordelia. Boy had he been wrong.
//I wanna hear you laugh again
Without the ache to bring you down
No we’ll never be the same
If only I could take your pain
But it’s true what people say
There is beauty in each day
We’ll find comfort in her strength
One day soon we’ll meet again//
Suddenly Lorne noticed something odd about Angel’s soul. Aside from the fact that he could read it as clearly as if it were the vampire singing (thank God that wasn’t the case) it looked more . . . settled than he had ever seen it. Lorne frowned and squinted as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
//I’m telling you:
I’m smiling for you only
I’m trying for you solely
I’m praying for you only
No more cry, no more cry//
Then he understood. As a sometime member of Angel Investigations, Lorne had naturally learned the story of Angel and how he lost his soul. More, he had become used to an inherent instability within Angel’s soul and had learned how to compensate for it in his readings. Somehow, that instability was gone. That soul was going nowhere.
//I’m singing for you only
I worry for you only
I’m praying for you only
No more cry, no more cry//
He tapped the Slayer on the shoulder saying, “Thanks hon, but I’ve seen enough.” She stopped and frowned slightly at him.
“So?” she asked. Angel had come up behind her, and the two had unconsciously pulled together.
//Reach out for your love
Shout out for your love
Listen for your love
Believe in her love//
Lorne smiled at just how cute they were together and said, “You were right sweetheart. The kids are Angel’s.”
Angel stared at his green friend, completely bewildered, “How . . . But . . . Buffy and I-”
Lorne shrugged, “Sometimes the lesser powers that work for the Powers make mistakes. Connor’s mother was supposed to be this petite blonde, not the one you wound up pounding into the wall. You were supposed to have shanshued on that day Buffy here won’t tell you she remembers, and gotten another couple kids out of it.”
//I’m telling you
I’m telling you
I’m smiling for you only
I’m trying for you solely
I’m praying for you only
No more cry, no more cry//
Buffy burst into tears and threw herself into Angel’s arms. He held her looking distinctly befuddled. “So now what? I can’t be with Buffy, and the children deserve their mother.”
“Ah, but that’s the beauty of this all my friend,” said Lorne jovially, “Your soul has been made permanent to allow you to be a father to these kids, and because that lovely crying bundle in your arms is your soulmate.”
//I’m singing for you only
I worry for you only
But it’s you saves me from lonely//
Buffy looked up from Angel’s chest, her face still wet, and snuffled slightly, “I love you Angel,” she said. That decided him, and he leaned down to kiss her, the last of the restlessness in him dissipating with her gentle touch.
//No more cry, no more cry
No no more cry, (no more cry)//
The world around them disappeared as their lips met, and Angel felt Buffy press against him, gasping in protest when he left her mouth to let her breathe, only to moan happily when his mouth found the scar on her neck and began to nibble on the skin around it.
The rest of AI hurried off when it became apparent the couple weren’t going to resurface from each other any time soon. Not that the couple slowly beginning the trek up to Angel’s apartment noticed. They had reached the landing when their need became too urgent.
When Angel slid into her, both felt a massive wrong in their world right itself. Both knew then that their long days of loneliness were over. Much later, Buffy lay curled on his chest, feeling tears well up because she was so happy.
“What’s wrong?” Angel looked at her, concerned.
She beamed down at him, “I guess I’m just so happy I won’t have to cry anymore.”
He chuckled, “You’re crying because you don’t have to cry?”
“Something like that,” she replied, and snuggled down to sleep.
//No more cry//
The End
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