Angel hurried inside and over to his son who was wailing with gusto, his tiny pink fist clenched and waving at the air, trying to hit the invisible demon that had waked him. Angel leaned over and cooed, picking him up and bringing him to his chest, rocking his son gently.

Angel continued to jiggle Connor until the baby had calmed and was reduced to small bouts of gasping. In a moment he was sleeping again, his thumb finding its way into his mouth. Angel waited a few more minutes before daring to put Connor back into his bed, then covered him loosely and headed back to the front porch. When he opened the door he found Buffy pacing, her boots clomping softly on the wooden planks.

“He’s asleep?” she asked as he gently shut the front door.

Angel nodded.

“Okay…then…I think we should go to bed, too, Angel,” she told him, worrying her lip nervously. “To sleep, I mean.”

“Uh—okay,” he agreed, somewhat confused.

“It’s—it’s late,” she began as she continued to pace, “and…we’re tired and we’re acting on things that are…”

She trailed off. He watched her, part relived at her maturity and part howling inside at the logic she presented. “Are…?”

“We’re acting on things that have been over for a long time,” she said finally, stopping to stand a few feet, safe feet, away from him. “We’ve been through a lot today, over the past few days, and we got out of hand with each other. It’s…understandable. Extreme circumstances, blood pumping…”

“My blood doesn’t pump,” he reminded her, taking one step towards her.

She mimicked him, backing up. “You know what I mean.”

“I didn’t lie to you, Buffy,” Angel said softly, though there was a hint of growl to his voice as he continued to move towards her. “I care for you. I always have, and that’s not going to change. I didn’t come out here tonight expecting that to happen, that’s the last thing I was thinking of.”

“Exactly!” she cried, throwing her hands up. “That’s my point. We’re…being impulsive. And in our worlds, that doesn’t always work out for us. We don’t know what we’re doing, and I’ve done too much of that the last few months.”

“But when you say it like that, that we’re just acting on impulse, that we’re reacting to being near each other, you make it sound like it means nothing, that we’re using each other,” he snapped.

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I meant, Angel. It’s because I don’t want to do that…not with you…that I think we should just go to our separate corners for the night.”

“I would never push you…Do you think I’m just using you? I’m not Spike,” he reminded her, hurt in his eyes.

“And I’m not Darla,” she said gently.

He recoiled at her words and she was instantly shamed. “No…wait, Angel…I’m saying this wrong…”

“You’re having a hard time figuring out what you mean, Buffy,” he told her, turning away from her, trying to heal from the shock of her words.

She reached for him, laying a tiny hand on his shoulder, and he jumped at the touch, shrugging her off. “Angel, please…hear me out.”

He didn’t speak and she decided that was her cue to continue.

“I…I care for you, Angel. More than I should. I always have…more than I should. Even now. I don’t want us to do something tonight that will make how I feel for you anything less than what it is. And I’m afraid that if we do this…we won’t be able to stop. That…that I won’t be able to stop myself.” She swallowed tears and reached out for him again. This time he allowed her touch.

“I couldn’t live with myself if we hurt each other…and you’ll be going back to LA tomorrow…we don’t know when we’ll see each other again, we don’t know where this might lead, and I couldn’t bear it to start up something with you again just to have it taken away from me. I’ve lost too many people. I can’t do that with you again.”

“So you’ll go back to Spike,” he snapped.

“Wh—what? No…I--” she stammered.

He cut her off viciously, whirling on her, enraged. “He’s here, and he’s convenient, and the minute I leave town, are you going to go back to his crypt, let him undress you, let him violate you? Are you? Are you going to let him touch you, to know what it’s like to have you under him, to be with you in a way that only a man who loves you should be? Does he make you forget what you and I shared? Does he make you forget about that farm-boy…or the one before him? The one who used you and let you go?”

“Now wait a--” she demanded angrily.

“No, you are going to listen to me, Buffy,” he seethed, and his calm, quiet anger scared her far more than had he been yelling. “I won’t sit here and let you tell me that anything you and I share is less than perfect. I won’t allow you to tarnish this, whatever this is between you and me, by making it sound like we’re two horny teenagers that can’t get a grip on our hormones. And I sure as hell won’t be convenient for you, just because I care for you,” he spat, advancing on her. He grabbed her shoulders and held them in his giant hands, gripping her tightly so that she was forced to look him in the eye. “I did what I did tonight because I wanted to. Because it’s right. It’s always been right. I’ve fooled myself for too long thinking I don’t deserve you, that you needed more than I could give. And I gave us up for that…I let you go. And I was miserable. And while I was miserable, you moved on. Which was great,” he let out an angry laugh, “it’s exactly what I wanted for you.”

“Angel, hold on--”

“I said listen to me!” he growled. “I let you go, we tried to move on.” He let go of her arms and whirled around again, ranting almost as much to himself as to her. “And then…you were there, in my office…and then I was breathing…and we were…but I let you go then, too, didn’t I?!” he cried, turning on her.

She backed up, wildly confused. “What? Angel, what are you talk--”

He ignored her. “I let you go again, because I couldn’t bear to see you die, but you died anyway…I wasn’t there and I couldn’t stop it, so I left…I spent the better part of three months trying to get over you when you died. Just to find out that of course it didn’t work. How could it?”

“I know what you mean,” she reminded him, deciding to just patiently wait until he was finished before ripping him a new one. “I ran away and it didn’t help.”

He barely heard her. “I left you, Buffy, to give you everything you deserve, all the things I can’t give you…and what happens? You end up in the arms of the one thing in the world that can give you even less than me. At least I love you. At least I would put you above all else. You destroyed the memory of us…of what we’d been…when you turned to him.”

He was panting when he finished, his eyes glazed over with fury and nonsense. She eyed him cryptically, having taken a seat on the wooden bench her mother had placed on the porch so many years earlier.

“Are you finished?” she asked him coolly.

He stared at her, then gave her a curt nod.

“Good,” she told him between clenched teeth as she rose to her feet. “Because now I have something to say to you. I would love nothing more, Angel, than to lead you upstairs to my bed and make love to you until morning. I would love nothing more than to pretend that for one minute you and I are workable, that things can just slip back into that notch we carved out for ourselves so many years earlier. I never meant to make less of our relationship by being with Spike. But if you want to throw stones, Angel, be prepared to duck a few yourself, because if you’d like, I can get into the whole Darla-issue.” She advanced on him now, her five-foot-three frame stalking his six-foot-two height, pushing him back with her tiny fists until he practically stumbled down the front three steps and out into the yard. “You want to talk to me about bad choices in life? Firing your entire staff? Abandoning your friends? Abandoning me? Trying to lose your soul because you were too weak to try and fight back? Not exactly up there on the ‘Reasonable Adult Weekly’ top-ten.”

“We not talking--”

“I’m. Not. Finished,” she bit out, poking a finger into his chest to punctuate each word. “You had your fun, now it’s my turn. You wanted me to grow up Angel, and I have. I’m an adult now. I make my own choices, I have my own life to live. I didn’t have a choice when you told me you were leaving. You just up and did it, without talking to me about it, without thinking that I could be an adult about things. I had to grow up faster than most people do, but you couldn’t think of me like that…to you I was still just little helpless high-school Buffy. We’ll I’m not now! I’m twenty-one years old. Nothing compared to your advanced age, but hey, not many people are.”

He growled low and she fought a wicked grin.

“You don’t scare me, so cut that out. Tonight, I made the choice to kiss you. I made the choice to let myself go in you, and God knows where that might have led if Connor hadn’t started crying. So when you went inside, I thought about it. It might be worth the pain, Angel, to sit there and neck with you all night, it might just be worth it even knowing that you’re going to leave me again tomorrow and there’s not a thing I can do about it. But I’m not going to let you sit here and lecture me on my decision-making skills. I’m trying to be the adult here, I’m trying to think with my head instead of my heart…because it seems that every time I do that, it gets broken. Just because my feelings for you haven’t changed doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.”

“I never said--”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “You’ll always have a part of me. Riley saw it…he saw it and he left because he couldn’t compete. Wouldn’t try. And Spike…maybe part of his appeal is that he’s dark, and he’s dangerous, like you…and if I can’t have you, I’ll substitute, no matter how poor a substitute he may be. You want to make noises over me being with Spike and how it’s an insult to what you and I had…well how do you think I feel about you and Darla? Knowing that you turned to her…to her…for comfort. And together you created a child! The one thing in the world that I can’t give you. That I’ll never be able to give you. You want to talk about making our relationship less than it is? Try that, Angel.”

Her breath was coming quickly now and she took a step back from him, snapping her mouth shut. He stared at her for a moment, thoughts flying through his head.

And then, in four long strides he crossed to her and pulled her into his arms, sealing his mouth firmly over hers.

She was unsurprised by his reaction. Her inner fire had been lit and then stoked from their earlier activities. Arguing only made things worse. Her arms wrapped themselves around his body, one leg snaked its way up and hooked itself around his until he placed one strong arm under her legs, and the other around her shoulders, and picked her up, cradling her against his chest, the thudding of her heart reverberating into his own. Their lips never lost contact with each other as he swiftly made his way over to the steps, climbed them, then eased himself onto the porch bench, all the while keeping up his rough ministrations to her eager lips.

Her fingers delved into his hair, running through it roughly, gripping the back of his head, urging him on. One hand found its way up and under his shirt, her nails scratched at his back roughly, eliciting a moan from deep in his throat as his lips tore from hers and found purchase on her neck. She arched and gave, he demanded and took.

“God…Buffy,” he gasped.

“Mmm,” she murmured, unable to speak.

He lavished attention on every part of her skin he could reach, holding her close to him for what seemed like hours until without a word he picked her up again. With great skill he carried her to the front door, opened it, and walked inside, cradling her like a child while planting kisses on her forehead as she tucked herself against his chest. He locked the door and turned off the lights in the foyer before heading to the living room and she smiled at his consideration. The moon was the only light to see by, though he didn’t need even that much, and after casting an eye to his son, who he found sleeping, as expected, he gently eased his body onto the couch, tucking Buffy under his arm. Reaching down he wrapped them in one of the blankets she’d provided and she snuggled in more closely to his chest, ear pressed to it as if any moment she expected to hear his heart beat.

He knew that if it could have, his heart would be racing at having her so near him.

Kissing her forehead again he gazed down at her. “Get some sleep,” he whispered. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

She wriggled, surprised. “I don’t want sleep…or talk,” she suggested headily, her eyes heavy as she trailed a finger up and down his chest, stopping to tease at his waistband.

He chuckled, his face breaking into a grin that caused her heart to skip. “I think it may be the wisest thing, sweetheart. It’s difficult enough to lay here with you. If you’re going to keep doing that…”

“Doing what?” she pouted.

Catching her chin with his index finger he urged her to look up. “You know.”

She grinned wolfishly. “You’re the one who grabbed me, you know. And now you just want to stop?”

He sighed. “The last thing I want to do is stop, Buffy…but that’s what I’m afraid of…that we won’t stop.”

Green eyes searched coffee brown ones and after a moment she gave in, easing her body down onto his, her check resting on his broad shoulder. “Well…I still don’t like it,” she grumbled half-heartedly and closed her eyes. “I love you, Angel,” she whispered after a long moment. “Still.”

His body stiffened, then relaxed as his heart burst into song. “I love you, too, Buffy,” he whispered back. “Still.”

“Always,” she sighed happily, even as sleep tugged at her.

He hugged her gently, his own eyes closing.

Always.

*~*~*

The morning dawned bright and Buffy woke to the sound of Connor’s rattle falling from his bed to the floor. She sat up, not an easy task as Angel had a possessive grip around her waist, and leaned over to check on the little bundle. He was still sound asleep she noted, satisfied. She turned to look out of the windows and reached up to tug the curtains closed so as not to flambé Angel with the sunlight. A smile came to her lips as she felt his arms encircle her waist again and pull her back down against him.

“Stay here,” he ordered sleepily, though through the veil of sleep it came out more like, “Schtay’re.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him with a whisper and pressed a kiss to his lips, snuggling back up against him.

“Mmm…” he moaned softly and his lips sought hers again. She giggled and obliged him once more, then lay back down and closed her eyes again. It was several hours later when she opened them again to the sound of her sister’s insistent urgings.

“Buffy…Buffy!” Dawn cried softly, shaking her sister.

“It’s not a good idea to wake up a sleeping vampire,” Angel warned her without opening his eyes.

Buffy, too, resisted opening her eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading its way across her face.

Dawn placed her hands on her hips. “I just thought you might want to know that Dad’s in the shower…and if you don’t want him to see you…like this…you might want to get up. But fine. If you’re gonna be grouchy, see if I care.” With that she sauntered off to the kitchen, secretly giddy at seeing her sister curled up with Angel again. She couldn’t wait to tell Willow.

Angel recognized the sound of running water, realized that what Dawn had said was for their own benefit, and pried his eyes open.

“What time is it?” Buffy asked grumpily.

Angel looked around for a clock. “Almost noon,” he noted, and looked down at Connor, who was gone.

“Connor?” he asked, wide-awake. “Where’s Connor?”

Buffy slapped a hand over his chest and pushed him back onto the couch. “Cordelia has him. She came in earlier, gave us a nice look of surprise, followed by disdain, and picked up Connor cooing something to him about averting his eyes from a disgusting adult situation.”

Calmed, Angel eased himself back down onto the cushions. “He’s not here now,” he whispered huskily into her ear, capturing the lobe between his teeth and nibbling just enough to send goose bumps down her arms, which was all of about three seconds.

Buffy enjoyed his attention for a moment longer before wiggling out of his grasp and sitting up. “No…but a household full of other people are…including my father.” She leaned over and gave him a smacking kiss on the lips, grinning devilishly, before climbing over his body, pulling the blanket along with her.

“It’s cold!” Angel cried, grabbing at the flannel.

“You don’t have body heat,” she shot back, trotting towards the stairs.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t recognize a cool breeze,” he groused and swung his long legs over the side of the couch, stretching. He watched Buffy take the stairs slowly. Her eyes met his for a brief second before she disappeared to the upstairs and his swore his heart fluttered that the smile had been for him. They had more to talk about…much more after the events of last night…but he had to admit that there was nothing more satisfying than waking up with her curled next to him, warming his body with her own. He glanced back at the curtains pulled tight and smiled to himself. She cared. And that was enough.

Running a hand through his hair he headed to the kitchen to find Cordelia, Dawn and Fred gabbing at the kitchen table, orange juice all around, and Connor nestled in Cordy’s arms, eagerly nursing a bottle.

“G’morning,” he greeted them and made his way to the fridge when he realized that he wasn’t at home, and Buffy probably didn’t normally keep blood in her pantry.

“There’s some in there,” Dawn offered, her eyes wide over the glass of juice she was sipping. “She made sure…sometime yesterday I guess.”

He met her eyes and nodded. “Thanks.” Opening the fridge, sure enough, there were several bags hanging from the shelves.

“So,” Cordy began, raising one perfectly manicured eyebrow. “I guess you had an interesting night.”

“You could say that,” he agreed amicably and leaned against the counter, bracing for her attack.

“I am. We heard you…or most of it, anyway. Next time you guys get in the ring, try not making it in the front yard at two am,” she told him pointedly.

“I think it’s all very romantic,” Fred burst in and Dawn nodded with a mile-wide grin on her face. “Arguing over past-lovers…being jealous, then taking her in your arms and swooping her in for a kiss!” She all but danced in her chair.

Angel felt the blush crawl up his cheeks. “Sorry if we kept you up.”

“So are you guys…you know,” Dawn wiggled her eyebrows, “back together?”

He coughed then, unsure what to say, when Wesley and Gunn, followed by Xander and Anya, burst into the kitchen and chaos reigned. As he stood in his corner, surveying the disorder, he couldn’t help but smile at his make-shift family.

*~*~*

Upstairs, Buffy walked into her room to collect some clothing for herself and then to hopefully sneak into the shower in her mother’s room. Willow and Tara were up, she could hear the sound of a blow-dryer coming from down the hall, so it shouldn’t be a problem to get in the bathroom. Grabbing a sweater and a clean pair of jeans from a drawer she snatched up her brush and attempted to tame the monstrosity on her head when her father pushed open the door.

“Good morning.”

Buffy turned to him and set down the brush. “Ah…morning.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, stuffing his dirty laundry into a suitcase.

“Fine…you?” she asked evenly, turning on the stool at her dressing table to face him.

Hank shrugged. “It was…an interesting night. I’m surprised I slept at all.”

“You didn’t have too many problems that night in LA after you first saw me fight.”

“No…no I didn’t,” he acknowledged.

“Dad…” she began when her father held up a hand.

“Just…let me, okay?” She hesitated, then nodded and sat back, prepared for the worst. “Buffy…I don’t understand what I’ve seen…I won’t even pretend to. And I’m still not sure this is the best environment for your sister to live in. You have…a lifestyle here that most people would agree is unusual. Your friends think they’re witches…you fight so-called demons…you keep odd hours, late hours, with people not much older than Dawn watching over her at night. You allow a…a…I can’t believe I’m saying this…vampire to baby-sit her. And you yourself are involved with one of these creatures. I have a hard time believing that your mother knew about this, much less approved of it. Your life is dangerous. And that means it’s dangerous for Dawn. But--” he continued when she began to object, “I have seen that you care for her. And she adores you. And…you have a surrogate family here that doesn’t begin to compete with what I could offer her in Los Angeles.”

Father and daughter were silent for a moment, contemplating what Hank had just laid out. When he spoke again, Buffy heard the exhaustion in his voice and a pang of guilt sprang up.

“I haven’t been here for you, and I certainly don’t know either of my children any more. Mr. Giles and the others are your family...as much as it pains me to say that.”

“Giles lives in England now, Dad,” Buffy reminded him. “I still need a father.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever needed me, Buffy,” he smiled ruefully. “Even in Los Angeles you were beyond my reach. So independent, so sure you knew what you were doing.”

“I did,” she told him, smiling gently.

“Sometimes,” he conceded. “I—I’d like to stay here a few more days. See how things really run around here, normally. And then I’ll make my decision concerning Dawn and where she should live. Though I doubt the choice will be difficult to make.”

“You’re going to take time off work?” Buffy asked, surprised.

Hank nodded. “I’ll arrange it today. I need to do this, for you and for Dawn…and for me. I slept on and off last night because I kept going over what I’d seen. Dawn sneaking out in unacceptable, of course…”

“But if she hadn’t…the spell wouldn’t have worked and I’d still be…like I was,” Buffy broke in.

“And for that reason I’m going to overlook it. I think a clean slate is in order. How about for the next few days we’ll make me the casual observer…I’ll see what I think about how this house runs and if Dawn’s better off with you and your friends than with me in LA.”

Buffy met his eyes, unwavering. “I really think she is, Dad. She feels safer with me than with anyone. And with her mystical background, I’m the best person in the world to protect her. You have to believe that.”

“I’ll talk to her separately, of course, see how she feels about this whole thing, where she’d like to be. I’m sure I know what she’ll say, but it’ll be good for us to have a heart-to-heart.” Hank shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Oh…and you can have your bedroom back. I’ll take the couch.”

She nodded gratefully. Her mind was racing, completely flustered by what her father was telling her. Treating her like an adult? Letting she and Dawn run their lives? Who was this man before her? “I don’t know what to day, Dad,” she said finally. “This isn’t exactly how I expected things to go.”

“For me either,” he admitted with a grin. “Amazing what happens when I actually listen to my kids, isn’t it?”

She smiled, unsure. “There’s a lot more you don’t know…things that might help explain some of the wacky behavior around here.”

He patted the bed next to him. “I’ve got some time.”

She hesitated only a moment before joining him on the bed and curling her legs up underneath her, settling in for a long, long story.

Outside the door, Angel smiled to himself and headed off to the shower.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Fresh Start
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