“Do you think they’re crazy?” Willow asked, genuinely curious but somewhat dubiously from their vantage point on the second story balcony as the sky just began to lighten with the approaching dawn. 

“Nah,” Spike replied, flicking his cigarette off to the side, it hissed once before burning out. “Trust me, love, I’ve been around insanity and this ain’t it. It’s more like…” He paused, wishing for a drink or another cigarette as he watched his Sire and his sire’s mate go at it in the courtyard below. Made him want to join the fray. “Lusty obsession.” 

“It’s kind of disturbing.” They were all over each other more so than she and Spike. 

“Yeah, well, you get used to it after a while.” The disgust in his voice was mostly for the past, not for his current situation, which he found more and more agreeable every day. Well, that and this new ‘plan.’

“What?” 

“Last time he was all soulless ‘I am Master, hear me roar’ it was the same way. He may not have been shagging the bint, but it didn’t matter, he certainly wanted to and it made him crazy – in the mad way, not the insane way – that he couldn’t. The Slayer did this, or the Slayer did that, or Buffy did some other damn thing. Drove me nuts then, all that Buffy-Obsession. This is at least easier on me and every other damn demon in the vicinity.” 

At her look Spike pulled her into his arms, attacking her lips with his. When he pulled back he continued, “Angelus on a murdering jealous rampage because he can’t have the woman he wants isn’t something pretty. Angelus on a murdering jealous rampage when the woman he wants has also made him feel something…even worse. And since the only woman to ever be the cause of either of those scenarios is Buffy…you see my meaning.” 

“But it can’t be natural! Yes, okay, I understand this Union Joining thing brings them closer together and bonds them in a way I never want to understand. And I get that they were in love before being soulless creatures of the night and that Angelus wanted Buffy as much as Angel ever did, and sure sex and vampires, I also get…but this …it can’t be natural.” 

“Why not? You know how much we do it, why shouldn’t they? Call it making up for lost time. All those years when they had souls and were ‘oh I’m too scared and responsible’” Spike mimicked, and badly, Buffy’s voice, “to fuck each other senseless. It all comes down to one thing…they’re never going to get enough of each other and,” Here Buffy let out a loud cry of Angelus’ name that echoed off the stone walls. Spike salivated at the sound and the matching one from his Sire as he roared his own climax and lost his train of thought. “Er, ah, and they’re going to nauseate all of us while they go at it every free fucking minute.” 

“Well, maybe they’ll share.” Willow said as she vamped out, scraping her fangs over Spike’s jugular, grinding her pelvis into his erection. “Come inside, Spike. This’ll be the last time we’ll get to be together before the first stage of our plan is begun.”

She pulled back a bit as he stiffened. “You don’t like it.” 

It wasn’t a question, she already knew. They had discussed it briefly before Willow had agreed, even though they both knew that to not agree was paramount to slow torture at the hands of both their Sires. Friendship or no, disobedience was tantamount to insubordination and would not be tolerated by either Angelus or Buffy. Just as well as Willow doubted she would have had any regard whatsoever for her Sire had Buffy backed down in the face of a little defiance.  

“I don’t like the thought of you whoring yourself to Stewart. It’s a solid plan, I admit, and something I would have thought of once upon a time, but I don’t have to like it.” In fact, he liked it less that Angelus had offered his mate (unofficial and unbound though they were paramour was more the appropriate term) or was going to offer her to the older vampire without even coming up with a Plan B. 

He had merely told Spike and Willow that this was how it was going to be with Giles listening in, concurring with every word out of the wanker’s mouth. Buffy had agreed, but offered Willow a way out if she could find another option; unfortunately for Spike, neither could find an alternate proposal. 

And it wasn’t like Spike had any real objections to Willow having sex with someone else, that wasn’t it at all. He was well aware of the fact that she had been with at least two vampires the other night when she and Giles had gone to scout out Stewart’s club. That didn’t bother him at all. No, what bothered him, or one of the points, was that Angelus was basically giving Willow to Stewart as one might a particular slave or a favored childe, as a gift. 

He never said his feelings on the matter made sense. 

But they needed Paul for the beginning of their plan to work, needed his connections and money and yes, even his business, to gain that foothold that neither Spike nor Angelus had had in too long a time. Sure they had money, but that wasn’t the sole need they had. Money did not always breed power; sometimes it bred idiots like Damon. But with Paul’s connections, it was sure to be the beginning step in their plan. 

Spike just didn’t like the fact that if Paul wanted Willow as much as she and everyone seemed to think, that she’d willing go to him.

While Willow was sure that she’d enjoy herself, she had met Paul and saw nothing there that she wouldn’t like, a part of her also disliked the fact that she had to cheat, as it were, on Spike. Fidelity wasn’t really an issue, but they hadn’t really reached the point where it was brought up: their relationship was still fairly new. 

Still, diversity and all. Willow had spent too much of her time as a mortal keeping to the monogamous rules so spouted by humans. Her conversion to vampirism freed her in more ways than the soulless no conscious one; it now allowed her to experience everything she had always been taught was wrong. It was a heady sensation, true, and she was looking forward to it, but…she did care for Spike. Just not enough to permanently join with him. 

“It won’t be long, and he may not even want me for more than a day or two.” As she said this, Willow pushed his shirt over his head, running her hands over his cool flesh as she made her way to his pants. 

Spike snorted, “How he could not want you is beyond me.” But he knew she was saying that for him, to make him feel better with the whole situation and he appreciated it. 

He also appreciated her hands as the nails scraped over his shoulders and back, drawing blood as he lifted her and carried her back to their bed, intent on making her remember all the reasons she should to come back to him. 

He may not have loved her as he had Drusilla, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want her in his life. And in his bed; most especially in his bed. And he was going to spend the next few hours showing her just that.
~~~~~~~
Giles ignored the now drained human body on his floor, wrapped in an old white sheet procured from the very back of the almost empty linen closet in favor of the book in front of him. 

He had picked up the woman in the park, listening to her whimpers and sniveling over how her lover had abandoned her for a younger man – it had come as quite a shock to her to discover this other side of him. He had listened with a very sympathetic ear, consoling her with short words of compassion that were entirely contrived but she couldn’t tell the difference in her pathetic weepy state. 

Still, he had fed well that night and was in the mood for something a bit…more than the usual hunt. Sex for a definite one, listening to Buffy and Angelus and Spike and Willow go at each other all day was more than he could abide. Not that he had any really desire to join them, no what he felt for Buffy and Willow went against even the Sire/Sibling need for bonding sex. But it was the sounds and scents. 

And damn it, the simple fact that they were getting some (okay, a lot) and consistently at that and he was not. 

Still, she had been willing enough and was fairly well versed in the world of sex. But she was weak and not at all prepared for what Giles had in mind. Becoming a vampire hadn’t changed his predilection for kinky sex; it had just brought it forward enough for him to acknowledge it again. 

In the end it didn’t matter and she had climaxed regardless of her absolute fear for the surreal situation in which she had found herself. Giles refused to let her not enjoy herself; that just wasn’t his style. 

Her blood had been sweet and satisfying, fear and passion lacing the rich nectar with something almost indescribable. 

When he had finished feeding Giles gave brief thought to turning her but decided she was too weak as a human to make anything other than a slave vampire. Not that they didn’t need those, especially one for the day to day chores such as house cleaning, but he was a snob. It was engrained in him from youth, but knowing he was from one of the oldest and strongest lines in the vampire world made it all the more so. So he had simply left her to die and had gone on to finish the ancient text he was reading. 

And he had found something…extraordinary. 

Looking again at the passage that stood out on the book before him in something akin to awe he laughed aloud. 

This was just…simply remarkable. It was amazing, yes; simply amazing that he had not seen this before. In all of his research – and he had done quite a bit when it was first known that Dawn was the Key – he had never come across anything like this. Of course he was looking for specific references to Dawn and Glory and such. 

It seemed that the Key’s energy could be harnessed for another purpose other than opening the doorway to Glory’s little dimension.

They’d have to keep Dawn alive; there was no help for it. 

But that didn’t mean they needed her coherent.
*********
Buffy lay on her stomach, completely spent. 

They had been going at each other for several hours now, starting in the courtyard of the gardens after coming home from a pleasurable and interesting night of hunting and moving eventually into their room, and now she was exhausted. Plus she was starving and it was still a number of hours until sunset; they’d have to start keeping victims in the basement if they were going to continue this level of… physical activity. Wondering how angry the rest of their little group would be if she drained Dawn, Buffy rolled her head to the side to look at her lover. 

He was sprawled on his back, next to her, equally spent. His hand was idly caressing a rounded globe of her buttocks, not really in passion, more like possession, or maybe just because. Buffy didn’t care what the reason was, she just wanted his touch. 

It disturbed her a little (though with everyday the disturbance was lessening if not the need) this fierce ache to feel him always. Not just have him close by, but to physically feel some part of his body on some part of hers. In, on, there really wasn’t a difference to her. She just needed him. Like a craving that you knew would never be completely sated but that the enjoyment of trying to was the real pleasure. 

“Hmm, that’s nice; don’t stop, don’t ever stop.” She sighed as his hand massaged her upper thigh. 

It was comfortable, this feeling between them. And on that thought Buffy, slightly panicked that they were fucking themselves into a rut (could they do that; was it even possible?), decided that a human emotional death such as that they didn’t need. So she forced herself up, which wasn’t all that difficult as a surge of lust shot through her when Angelus’ hand deliberately brushed her core, and rolled onto Angelus, settling on his upper thighs. 

“Turn over, baby.” She instructed, reaching for the massage oil in the overcrowded nightstand drawer. As he did so, she poured a large dollop onto her hands rubbing briskly to add whatever heat she could and watched him. Beautiful, absolutely. His cold marble body, hard and muscular. The tempting lips and angled face. His eyes now open and appreciative as they raked her nude form. They could be, by turns, hot with lust or turbulent with anger. Buffy knew every emotion that played through those eyes and enjoyed each one. 

“What are you up to, Buffy?” He asked as he rolled onto his stomach. They had literally just spent the last twelve hours alternating between fucking each other senseless and resting to store up enough energy to do it all again and now she wanted more? “Insatiable,” He murmured appreciatively with a slow seductive smile as he caught the sweet aroma of her arousal. But he certainly wasn’t going to complain. 

Her hands dug into his shoulders, eliciting a sigh of pure pleasure that had her smiling. Over his muscles she glided her hands, squeezing his shoulders, his arms, down his spine careful to knead each vertebra in turn. Scooting lower, she brought her hands over his pale ass nipping it with blunt before moving to his hard thighs, to the sensitive backs of his knees. Manipulating the muscles of his calves and feet in turn, loving the constant purr emanating from deep within him. 

As she worked her way back up his perfect body, swirling her tongue over the tattoo on his right shoulder, tracing the lines and shapes there, she draped her body over his, rubbing her dripping wetness over him, pressing her hardened nipples against his firm back. Reaching his ear, she bit gently on the lobe before latching onto his neck, growling softly and flipping him over. 

He was aching hard, the feel of her small hands over his flesh had sent spear after spear of desire shooting through him. When she had fastened her talented mouth on his neck as a show of dominance, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he thought he was going to explode right there, but then she was flipping him over and he knew release was imminent. 

“Buffy,” He growled, gripping her hips until they bruised and thrusting upwards as she sank over him. 

She rode him hard and fast, each thrust taking him deeper into her. Her claws raked over his chest and arms, drawing blood and spurring them both on. The delicious pressure built within, but before she could spiral out of control, Angelus rolled them over. Bringing her legs up until they brushed her breasts, he continued to pound into her. His chest was before her now and her pink little tongue flicked out to taste the blood there. And when she wrapped her hands around her legs leaving his hands free, he snarled in need and lust and approval. 

With a roar he came, sinking his fangs into Buffy’s neck, drinking greedily as her own orgasm crashed through her. Latching onto his neck, Buffy, too, drank from her lover, feeling the explosion of release flood through her again and again as the first drops of his powerful blood hit her waiting tongue. 

Her legs dropped and automatically wrapped around his hips cradling him within her. Her face reverted to her human form even as she felt the soft ridges of Angelus’ face against her neck. Licking her lips, Buffy wrapped her arms around him, keeping him close when he tried to pull out. 

No, there was no rut for them. And comfortable could be a feeling just the same as the love and desire that flowed through her even now, so soon after her lust had been satisfied. It was just one more thing that existed between them. 

And she slept, peacefully in the arms of her lover, still intimately entwined.
~~~~~~~~
 “What am I?” 

“Mine.” Just because Angelus didn’t understand what it was she meant exactly, didn’t mean that his response wasn’t automatic and true. 

Buffy smiled at him, at his response, but shook her head. “No, not whose am I, we both know that.” 

Sitting up on the bed next to him she waited until he rolled onto his side, gloriously naked smiling at her response, and looked in his eyes willing him to tell her the truth. He had never lied to her, not even when he had been tormenting her in Sunnydale all those years ago, well, not really. But the truth, the one they had been…not avoiding, just not discussing…she needed to know. 

“No, I meant…in the vampire hierarchy. What am I? My Sire was a Childe of Nest, making me strong no matter. But…we killed her and with the amount of blood we, you and I, have exchanged…” Buffy trailed off, frustrated at not being able to express herself as well as she wanted. 

Angelus had taught her a lot about the vampire rules and regulations, about what goes on between sire and childe, the dominance/submission aspect, though that was something that was almost missing from their relationship. Not that that aspect wasn’t there per se, just that they both enjoyed exercising the dominant role. And technically Buffy wasn’t his childe; not only that, but she had taught him to love the submissive role as much as she did…so long, of course, as she was the only one doing the dominating. 

Not that anyone need know, it was no one’s business…just that she had a feeling what they shared wasn’t typical, no matter the Joining Ritual they participated in that made them equals. 

But it wasn’t enough. There was something missing, something that he wasn’t telling her that she was sure was important. As she looked at him, his sculpted body, hard and cool, pale perfect, and all hers, Buffy wondered what it was. 

“You are my mate. Your pedigree is that of the Line of Aurelius and no one can ever question that. However, being Joined as we are makes the role of a Sire…superfluous at best. If we hadn’t been of the same Line the combining of our blood would have mixed to form…something else. Usually that’s how new Lines are formed. But since it happens so rarely, new Lines are rare as well; however, if one mate is stronger than the other, than that is the dominate line, the ruling blood.” 

He shifted closer to her on the bed, the importance of his words not lost on her. “Your Sire is dead by your own hand and while that is considered breaking The First Rule, I’ve broken it as well; just because I wasn’t really me makes no difference. But if they died then they deserved it, they were weak and as such they lost. That is The Second Rule: ‘Any challenge met and won’ is considered fair game, no matter who the victor and victim may be.”

He trailed his long fingers over her knee and calf, eyes never wavering as he continued. “You’re young yet, still considered a fledging, but that never really applied to you. Your strength is more than a match for anyone, vampire, human or otherwise and that in itself will be respected. There are many who will try to test you, who will question your place not only by my side, but as master in your own right.” 

“Is that what I am, then? A Master?” 

“Yes. Not only because you are my Joined Mate, but because of who you were and who you are. Vampires respect strength that is why most respect the Slayer despite the constant dance of kill or be killed. Your strength is a match for theirs and as such to be valued. You are strong; most will bow to your will.” 

Buffy stared at him for a second more. Master. She was master in her own right; or Mistress technically but the sentiment was the same. A slow smile spread across her face, ideas churning through her mind, “And those who don’t? Bow to me I mean.” 

“Then they’ll be destroyed. Either through direct challenges or through champions but even if they aren’t killed outright, they’ll lose all face in the community and will eventually be hunted down and defeated. Vampires have no respect for weakness, partly why we hunt humans with such abandoned.” 

“And here I thought that was for their blood.” She smirked at him, but laughed outright as he lunged for her, pinning her slight body beneath his. 

Entering her with one swift thrust, he moved in and out of her slowly as he continued. “A childe must submit to his or her Sire in everything. From turning a human to taking a mate of any kind. Technically you could stop Willow from screwing Spike; it’s your right as her Sire; my right as his.” 

He leaned on one hand, trailing the other one up her body to play with her hardened nipples. Buffy’s legs had locked around him and she met him languid thrust for languid thrust; her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders. Though she listened, her body screamed for him to move faster, pump harder. 

“Sires also have special privileges with their childer. While it is our duty to see that they defend themselves, can survive on their own should it come to that, it is also our right to do with them as we please. If I wanted to screw Spike until he bled that’s my right and no one has any say in that.” 

“Do you?” Buffy gasped as his fingers pulled hard on her nipple sending a shockwave of need through her. “Do you want him?” 

“Spike and I share a bond; one that you’ll understand the first time you have to teach Willow or Giles a lesson. William was my prodigy, Drusilla may have technically turned him, but my blood runs through his veins much more strongly than hers. He is more my childe than Dru’s. I trained him to be what he was, to hunt, to fight; to feed…what happened after the restoration of my soul destroyed something in each member of my family. It was a gaping chasm that even now is not filled.” 

Twisting her hips in an attempt to force him faster, Buffy dug her nails into his ass bringing him deeper into her. She didn’t ask about Drusilla, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. And she sure as hell didn’t want her in their little family, crazy bitch that she was. “I’m assuming sex is a part of that lesson? And a good beating?” 

Angelus slammed into her as he tried to keep his thoughts on their conversation. “Naturally.” Thrust, pushing her across the bed with the strength of it. “It’s the way things are.” Flipping her over to slam into her from behind. “But once it’s finished…” bite to the neck, “the punishment…” scraping fangs across her shoulder, drawing blood only to lick it away the next instant, “then it’s over, it may be…” Buffy growled and twisted her head back to capture his mouth with hers, tasting not only their combined blood, but Angelus’ own unique flavor and remnants of her arousal, “discussed again…” her nails dug into his legs drawing blood as he drew her up and against him, “but never punished…” she flung her head to the side, allowing access to her neck; it was a sign of submission, but one she’d gladly submit to so long as he was the one doing the dominating, “again.” 

Their coupling sped up until they were a blur of motion that even a vampire wouldn’t be able to properly follow. Their growls echoed off the bedroom walls and the bed strained under the pace of their need. With a final roar, Angelus exploded, the waves of his never ending desire crashing through him as he clamped down on Buffy’s neck, drinking once again of her sweet nectar. 

Buffy felt her own orgasm sweep through her the second Angelus’ fangs pierced her skin. She writhed against him, only his large hands holding her upright against his body. Without her needing to ask, he brought his wrist up to her mouth and hissed in pleasure around his own fangs as she bit into him, sharing in the circle they created every time they came together.
~~~~~~~
They had fallen forward onto the bed in complete exhaustion and Buffy was extremely glad she no longer needed to breathe. Considering her face was more or less mashed into the mattress, breathing would have been more than a problem. But the comforting weight of Angelus was something else entirely. Something she’d gladly bear. 

Long, long minutes passed as Angelus debated whether he was able to move enough to roll off his tiny lover. He didn’t have that strength, but found that he could just fall to the side, effectively relieving her of his weight. But that was a long time coming as even the though required more energy than he currently had. 

Finally, though, he did move, rolling parallel to the headboard. Opening one eye, a feat that required even more energy, he looked at Buffy. She had turned her head to the side and smiled at him, though both her eyes were closed. He wasn’t sure, it was faint even for him, but he thought he heard her say, “It’s always wonderful, lover.” 

“Did that answer your question?” He eventually asked. 

“Sort of. I still have a lot I don’t understand.” Buffy forced her complacent body to drag her lethargic limbs to where Angelus was laying, draping herself over his cool body. She purred in satisfaction when his hand rubbed small circles over her back.

“You’ll understand more as time goes on. Your first two childer were already strong willed when you turned them. They follow you because you’re stronger than they and always will be no matter how powerful their magicks. Plus we have a great plan for ruling the world.” 

Buffy laughed and couldn’t help but agreeing. It was a great plan. “Why don’t you have more childer coming out of the works?” 

Angelus shrugged though the movement was seriously hampered by the fact that he was laying down and Buffy was on top of him. “As a rule, vampires don’t have a lot. It takes time and energy and several years to train most fledglings. As I said, Willow and Giles are the exception, not the rule. Usually you just turn a minion, easier to teach, weaker, dumber, cannon fodder really. In the time it takes to make a childe, you could make a hundred minions who require nothing more than a firm hand telling them what to do and when to do it.” 

“Ah, that makes sense.” Buffy paused to absentmindedly lick his chest. “Why didn’t you ever tell me these things before?” 

“Hmm,” He said as her tongue found its way to his neck. “You never asked. And soul-boy was usually too busy trying to shelter you from the darker side of our heritage. It all seems relevant now; you need to know these things and I don’t want anyone else to teach you.” 

Lifting her head, golden hair trailing down her back and tickling his sides, Buffy smiled a slow indolent grin. “What else have you to teach me?”
~~~~~~
It was much later, that they made their way to the main rooms to find their childer. Both Buffy and Angelus were covered with bite marks and were considerably weaker for having not fed in too long. But Spike and Willow didn’t look all that much better. 

Angelus looked to Giles and thought that maybe a playmate of some sort would make the former watcher a tad happier with his new found situation. Not that he wasn’t adjusting to his surroundings and his new role in the world, but it was clear that he had excess energy to burn; best find him someone to spend more of the daylight hours with before Giles got too antsy.

The plan was to feed and feed well before making their way to the Infinity and their meeting with Paul. It had been agreed that Angelus would do most of the negotiating as he was the oldest, strongest, and had known Paul before. But Giles was to be the deciding factor. 

Paul had a clear interest in Willow and Spike had also known the other vampire before, but since Giles was new and would be regulated more or less to the background as a fledgling childe, it was thought that Paul wouldn’t pay too much attention to him and he’d be able to take everything in, things that Angelus – though it was highly unlikely – may have missed. 

Plus there was the added bonus of Buffy; a distraction if the situation warranted. No one expected a slayer to be turned into a vampire and especially not to be taken as a Joined Mate by one of the strongest vampires left in the world today.

As the group fed, and Willow’s fighting skills were honed, it looked to Angelus that things were shaping up nicely. Yes, very nicely indeed.
*********
“There’s one thing I just don’t understand.” Cordelia said as she packed the remainder of her things in a duffle bag. Imagine, her world fitting into a very well used LL Bean duffle bag. There was a time when she wouldn’t have even used that as a carryon. My how the mighty have fallen. 

“One thing?” Gunn shook his head there were about a dozen things about this whole situation he didn’t understand. 

“Yeah, one…well okay the main one. Why are we all still alive?” 

Fred turned her head from the opening of the tent. Amenities such as buildings or structures of any kind, really, for their headquarters were luxuries they could no longer afford. Not in the monetary sense, but in the practical sense. Battles were fought with increasing regularity, the loss of so many warriors hadn’t stopped that, and they were often required to move from one location to another as quickly as possible. 

She had always thought, in a distant academic way, that once the leaders of whatever side fell then the War would be over. That certainly wasn’t the case and she had been naïve to think that; or maybe optimistic – if the leaders of the Dark Side (how very Star Wars of her) died then they, the Light, would automatically win. Again, that certainly wasn’t the case. And if that wasn’t the case, then maybe they still had a chance to win this terribly long war…maybe. 

“What do you mean,” She asked after a minute when no one had said anything, “Why are we still alive?” 

“Angelus isn’t exactly known for his warm and fuzzy feelings concerning family and friends. He tends to kill them first and revel in it before, during, and after. Now we’re all assuming that Angelus is back and he went to America to find Buffy or those who had killed her. I don’t care what anyone says; he had this big old yen for her even when he was all evil.” Her final sentence was as sarcastic as she could make it and still stuff clothes into her bag. What either version of Angel saw in the diminutive blonde Cordelia didn’t know. 

“So he went for revenge or to find her turned. That was over two months ago; where is he? Why hasn’t he showed up here to kill the rest of us? Why are we still alive? Especially Connor; he’s Angel’s son that’s not something you just forget when you turn evil. For Angelus it’s something you destroy.”
Though none of them really knew the whole story of what Angelus did to his family when he was first turned they all knew enough, especially Wesley with his watcher journals, to know that Angelus and family weren’t a good combination and only the first step.

Wesley agreed, refusing to let his own fear of Angelus cloud the current issue. He was sure that there were more immediate reasons Angel had ‘forgiven’ him, Wesley, than out of any sense of actual forgiveness. The End Days were upon them and they needed every available person to fight: the fact that Wesley had kidnapped Connor was never really discussed, but he was sure that Angel still held that against him. Despite the fact that the former watcher had rescued him from the briny depths of the sea. And if Angel did, then Angelus would…tenfold. 

“Either he is, or they are if Buffy has indeed been turned, waiting for a time when we least expect it, or they have more immediate concerns. He could want to tie up loose ends there, first. I know that at last report Buffy and her army were moving across California and a northward towards Canada; if they were still in California it’s entirely possible that Angelus felt the need to extract revenge on past…acquaintances. And if she was turned as well, then I’m sure her friends are bound to end up…” 

He didn’t finish the sentence, not knowing how to do so delicately. But everyone got the message. 

Fred shuddered and turned back towards the flap. Connor had been sitting on the rocky outcropping for most of the night and all of the morning. He was like that most days since they had told him about Angel’s…transformation. He never said anything, just sat there, always facing east as if he could somehow reach the soul that was his father.
~~~~~~~~
He could hear him. 

It wasn’t something that he had ever consciously known and it wasn’t until Angel had left that Connor realized that it was there. 

He couldn’t hear him in the listening sense; no it was more like he could…feel him. A presence, a sense that was there all the time, warm and real and solid, comforting. In the months that his father had been gone Connor often wondered if every child felt this way towards a parent. 

He realized he was special when he started to feel her, too. 

Angel turning into Angelus as the others suspected didn’t sever the father/son connection. In a way it only enhanced it. And now he could feel another presence…he could feel Buffy. He was positive it was her, though he had only met her the once, shortly before the army had been divided, Angel going to Asia and Buffy staying in America. 

Their conversation had been short, there were hundreds of other things they needed to do and small talk wasn’t high on anyone’s list. But he had seen the way she had looked at his father, how Angel had looked at her. It was different from the way he looked, or used to look, at Cordelia. That was more of the ‘I care about you, there’s no denying that, but in a way I’m not sure of’ look. 

And with everyone pushing him towards her, telling him that THIS was how he felt, that THIS was how he should feel, was it any wonder that his lonely father had believed them? Connor had seen how the others treated Angel; they accepted on the most surface of levels the fact that he was a vampire, but never discussed it. They were comfortable around him only when he wasn’t in his vampiric face, when he wasn’t dark and brooding, only when he was happy and…false. Not that he couldn’t be happy, no, but the happiness Angel showed everyone else wasn’t how he truly felt, only how he thought he should feel.

When he wasn’t reminding his ‘friends’ of what he truly was. 

When Connor had first returned from hell, he had seemed to be the only one to actually remember that Angel was a vampire. Not that he hadn’t eventually learned that he was a man as well, but in the beginning that was the only way he had treated his father. 

Angel’s friends, though, had almost forgotten that there was a much darker side to him, that he was a demon as well. Buried to be sure, but there all the same, a constant presence that defined Angel almost as much as his soul did. 

But this look shared between Angel and Buffy was different in a thousand ways, small and large, than the colossal mistake that was Angel and Cordelia. It said as clearly as anything though both their friends preferred not to notice it: ‘I can’t live without you.’ 

Or maybe that wasn’t entirely it. Maybe it was that they could live without the other, but nothing was ever the same. Life didn’t hold as much meaning as it did when they were together. They could survive without the other, true, and had been for several long, interminable years…but they could never really be complete. 

Naturally Connor had heard stories about the forbidden love between the two, the tenuousness of Angel’s soul, the reappearance of Angelus because of a moment of true happiness (which was always said like it should be in bold capital letters, proclaiming its meaning.) But as he had no real proof he couldn’t really imagine it. 

Their allies, too, had heard about the star-crossed romance between the vampire and slayer and several powerful Wicca’s had erected a magickal shield around the couple on their last night together. In a way, Connor supposed, it was fitting that they share that night in the arms of their love; it was unlikely that any would survive the upcoming battles. 

Cordelia had gone off in a huff, though what gave her the right was anyone’s guess. She was the one to constantly attack Angel, to berate him for being what he was, who he was. She had never truly accepted the fact that he was a vampire despite her many claims to the contrary and, especially after they had become intimate, hadn’t known how to deal with it. 

‘Why can’t you take me out for a sunset walk on the beach…well if you had kept the Gem of Amara we could have.’ 

‘Why can’t we spend tonight alone, you already took care of that nest of vamps in my vision, I’m sure Gunn and Connor could handle anything else that arose.’ 

‘You’re hurt, what happened? Why didn’t you let me come with you? I’m part demon now, which may I remind you, I became for you. I can take care of myself. You always patrolled with Buffy, I have way more strength than she does.’ 

That was the first time Connor had ever heard the name Buffy, though he later learned that her name was almost…taboo in the office and especially around Angel. He had later figured that they didn’t want him to remember Buffy, that any mention of her name might remind him of what and who he had lost. Connor doubted his father had ever forgotten; it just didn’t seem like something – or someone – he’d forget. 

He had gotten curious and tried several times to ask about her. Fred and Gunn didn’t really know her, though they had all heard the story; no one, it seemed hadn’t. Wesley was still on the ‘outs’ but Connor had needed his help one day and Wesley had the book on the particular demon. He had tried for more information there, and while the former member of Angel Investigations tried to help, he hadn’t much more information than the previous two. 

Connor was loath to ask Cordelia. He liked her, in a way at least, that was true. But now that he and Angel were getting along…Connor didn’t like the way she treated his father. He saw more now than he had before, and one of the things he saw was the way Cordelia interacted with Angel. 

She was the original person to push him towards Angel but now that they were ‘together’ she wanted to monopolize all his time. Especially the time he wanted…needed to spend with his son. 

So he had started to snoop. Through his father’s possessions when Angel wasn’t there, bookshelves of journals and boxes of drawings and pictures. He had discovered a lot about his father, more than he ever would have guessed. Angel was a vampire, true, but he had the emotions of any man.

Especially when it came to the Slayer, Buffy Summers. 

There were entire boxes filled with drawings and sketches and photos of her, all with the date carefully printed somewhere incase he should ever forget; several, what looked to be early sketches, had her name written in big bold writing across the back. Entire shelves of his journals were devoted to her, her life, her spirit, her love for him; the demons and other forces of evil they had fought together were chronicled as well, but only in the most basic of ways. There was something about a day that had been turned back, but Connor didn’t pretend to understand that though the emotions pouring off the pages were almost tangible. 

And her acceptance of his vampire half. 

More curious than ever, Connor went to find Cordelia. He brought a photo with him, one of Buffy and her and three others he didn’t know. When he asked her about it, about Buffy, about this one piece of his father’s past, she…freaked. 

Said that the past was meant to stay there, that whenever Buffy and Angel were together that it was nothing but a disaster, that bad things came of that mistake of a relationship, that he was better off here, with her…er, them, and that they were better off not knowing what went on in each other’s lives. That she was the slayer for God’s sake and couldn’t ever really understand Angel because of it. 

No one realized that Angel was there until he exploded in anger.

Connor thought, at first, it was directed towards him for violating Angel’s trust and prying into his personal life, through his belongings. But that came later. This was entirely directed at Cordelia. 

Apparently listening to Cordelia’s rant about Buffy had brought everything crashing back to Angel and he realized that whatever he and Cordelia shared was only a fraction of what he had had with the slayer. And that even if he and Buffy could never be together again, if the Fates, or the Powers, or whomever never allowed that, he and Cordelia were just…wrong. 

It was Cordelia, not Buffy, who didn’t understand him, he had changed so much for his human friends and they all accepted it as their due, as their right. Only Buffy had ever accepted both sides of his nature, the vampire demon side and the human soul side. Only Buffy had ever made him feel whole, not necessarily happy all the time, the goddess knew that their relationship was fraught with obstacles and pain, but she always made him feel…complete. 

That was the final blow to an already fragile relationship. There was more shouting, of course, Cordelia never did anything quietly and always prolonged things, but whatever they had was destroyed that night. It had taken them months to get back to any kind of friendship, and even that was shaky at times. 

But then the End Days arrived and everything changed. Friends were needed and the past between Angel and Cordelia, no matter what had occurred, had been shoved aside for the more immediate concern of saving the world. 

Now, sitting in the weak winter’s sunlight as he listened to the rest of Angel’s most trusted friends’ debate the possibility of Angelus’ return Connor knew that he already had. And that there was a part of him, a deeply intricate bond father and son shared, that called to Angel. 

Was it because he was born of two vampires? Connor knew that childer could feel their sire’s presence, was this some part of that maybe? Blood of my blood; was the bond between father and son also one of sire and childe? 

Whatever it was, he knew that Angelus was back and wouldn’t be too happy with any of the people sitting in that tent. And his son? Connor didn’t know, but he almost couldn’t bring himself to care. He had fought so long and so hard against the darkness that was inside of him. 

Angel had always been his anchor when things were rough, or when Connor just needed someone to lean on even if only for a little while. As he had gone through most of what Connor was feeling, Angel was not only the natural choice, he was the only one. But he helped in ways no one could begin to understand; he listened, he agreed, he argued, he did whatever it took to help the other. Faith could have vouched for this. 

And in return he never asked for anything. Never hoped that he could be forgiven for the sins of the past, never wanted to remind anyone of the past he was so desperately trying to make amends for. All he asked was that the other person forgive themselves and try honestly try, to make it right. 

With that anchor gone, what was to become of the light portion of his soul? Would it be consumed by the darkness as his father’s had?
~~~~~~
Cordelia boarded the plan bound for America. It had taken her days to make the trek from their base in the Urals to Moscow, then another day to secure a flight to California. Connor had escorted her, though the two shared little conversation. Now, as the aircraft prepared for takeoff, she wondered what was waiting for her. 

Long lost friends slaughtered? Probably. Angelus never did things half way and if he truly did have Buffy by his side…the world was doomed. Unless she could figure out a way to stop them. 

Wishing suddenly that Connor had indeed accompanied her to America, Cordelia wondered again why he hadn’t. And why she hadn’t had a vision. Were the Powers telling her that things were all alright? Or were they trying to tell her something else? 

“Like not to go there,” Cordelia sighed out the words, though no one was in her row to hear her. 

With the onset of the end battles, more and more humans had discovered the presence of demons; not that they knew what to do, nor did they truly understand what had always lived in their presence, but word was spreading. And many of the services such as planes had all but ceased to run. 

But she had no choice. They had to know one way or another and this was the only way to do so. And why had Connor flatly refused to join her? His reasoning was that he was needed there, and that much was true. But there was something else, something that he just wasn’t telling her. Or any of them. 

As Cordelia leaned back in her seat, hoping for a few hours rest before her layover in Japan, she wondered again what it was. And hoped that it wouldn’t come back to haunt any of them.

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