"A Cleansing Fire: An Elseworld's Fic "

Author: Indie
Email: indiefic@hotmail.com
Notes: FYI, Fescue is a type of grass. //memories// & /~thoughts~/
Dedication: To my lovely betas who are so patient with me, especially Trammie who has been an absolute godsend. ::smooch:: for you, Sweetie. And to Serena who was so mortified by the leggings that they have henceforth been banned from any future fics.

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When Willow arrived home from work on Monday afternoon, she found Buffy nearly catatonic on the sofa, staring out the sliding glass door to their tiny balcony.  Willow's heart stopped, fearing that Buffy had been given some horrible news by the doctor.  Quickly throwing down her backpack, she moved to the sofa, taking a seat next to her friend.  "Buffy?" she queried gently.

It was almost a minute before the blonde acknowledged her presence, blinking at her with a startled expression like she couldn't understand where she'd come from.  "Willow," she said quietly.

"Buffy, are you okay?" Willow asked, trying to keep her voice even.

Buffy blinked several more times, then turned and resumed her staring out the door.  After an interminable pause, she said, almost  absently, "I'm pregnant."

Willow sat in stunned silence trying to absorb what her friend had just said.  She knew about Buffy's miscarriages.  She knew that the doctors told Buffy she would never be able to have children.  Clearing her throat, she asked, "Are you sure?"

"I wasn't ... I didn't believe him ... "Buffy explained, searching for the words.  "They did a blood test and I told him he was wrong ... I told him what the other doctors had said ... "

Willow took a deep breath.  What had the doctor done?  Buffy couldn't have children despite the fact that she wanted them desperately.  If some quack mistakenly confirmed a pregnancy, it could be disastrous.  "Maybe you should see another doctor," Willow suggested gently.

Without looking at her friend, Buffy handed her a small piece of paper she was holding.  Taking it, Willow studied the grainy black and white print out.  It didn't mean anything to her.  "What is this?"

"A sonogram," Buffy replied in a near whisper.  She shook her head as if to clear it and turned to look at Willow.  She pointed to a tiny white spec on the picture.  "That's ... the baby," she said quietly.

Willow stared in astonishment.  Buffy was actually pregnant.  Willow had doubted the veracity of the blood test, knowing that lab mix-ups were possible, but the fact that it was positive, combined with the sonogram ... The baby was real.  "Is this a good thing?" Willow asked cautiously.

Buffy’s face split into a blinding grin.  "Of course it is," she said.

Willow nodded, her expression guarded.  She knew how badly Buffy's last pregnancy had ended and she was in no rush to see a repeat performance.  "Are you going to tell Angel?" Willow asked.  There was no question about paternity.  She knew Angel was Buffy’s one and only.

Buffy's face fell and she chewed nervously on her bottom lip.  "No," she said quietly.  "I'm not."

Willow didn't say anything.  It wasn't as if she blamed Buffy, especially given all she went through with Angel in the last year.  To be honest, the odds of the pregnancy leading to a live birth probably weren't great.  If she didn't want to add to the strain by involving her estranged husband, who was Willow to say anything?  "What are you going to do about the annulment proceedings?" Willow asked cautiously.

"Nothing," Buffy said.  "I'm going to give him the annulment."

"You're going to *what*?"  Willow demanded.  "How do you think you can afford to have a child without any financial support from him?"

Buffy shrugged.  "I don't know, but I'll find a way.  I can't go through the stress of a legal fight right now.  I won't risk losing the baby like that... and if I don't want Angel to find out, staying away from him is kinda necessary."

Willow took a deep breath, but mentally accepted Buffy’s reasoning.  Involving Angel in any way meant stress and that wasn’t what Buffy needed, but there was no way she could afford a child and everything having one entailed.  "What about your parents?" Willow asked.

Buffy frowned.  "I suppose I’ll have to tell them," she said begrudgingly.  "They are not going to be happy.  They never really liked Angel to begin with and now when they find out I’m pregnant and he’s out of the picture ...  It won’t be pretty.  But I have to, I don’t have any other way to get money."

"The court date has been cancelled," Lindsey said, tossing a folder down in front of Angel.

Angel looked up abruptly.  He'd only been half paying attention while the lawyer prattled on about a hundred dull things.  "What'd you say?" he demanded gruffly.

"It's done," Lindsey said with a smile.  "Buffy's lawyer delivered the papers to our offices this morning.  She's decided not to contest the annulment.  You'll be free by the end of the month."

Angel stared at the folder.  Slowly he opened it and leafed through the papers.  There was Buffy’s signature, plain as day.  Very carefully, he closed the folder and rose from his desk.  Lindsey didn’t say anything as he left the room.

Hours later, Angel sat alone in his library, slowly nursing a drink.  He was free in the legal, literal sense, but it did nothing to lighten the burden on his heart.  He felt as intensely chained to his doomed relationship with Buffy as he ever had.  Why did she throw in the towel?  It wasn't like her.  Buffy was above all, a fighter, a survivor no matter how weak she thought herself at times.

No, he hadn't won.  He hadn't broken her down or forced her into something she didn't want.  She ... gave up - like their relationship wasn't worth the effort anymore.  She walked away from him and his fortune without a backward glance, without a word.  And that hurt more than any prolonged court battle ever could.

He instinctively placed a hand on his chest, feeling the cool press of her ring through the fabric of his shirt. He still wore it, keeping it close to his heart even when he found himself unable to do the same with Buffy herself.  Was there someone else?  His insides roiled at the thought.  He appreciated the irony of the situation.  He pushed her away, going so far as to deny that a marriage had ever existed between them at all ... and still he could not abide the thought of her in another man's arms.  Angel prided himself in his newfound ability to differentiate between sex and making love.  He had slept with a lot of women since Buffy, but never once was it making love.  Could Buffy make that distinction?  Angel doubted it.  Buffy would never sleep with someone without being in love with them.  If she found physical pleasure without him, it meant she had truly moved on.  Left him.  Found someone else.

Rising from the chair, he went to the bank of windows that looked out over the city.  He knew with finality that he would never be free of her and he hated himself for that.  The jaded ten year old that sat through his mother’s funeral without once shedding a tear hated him for letting someone get that close again.  He screwed his eyes tightly shut as his hands balled into fists.

There was a soft click as the door to the library opened, sending a ray of light shining across the carpet.  "Brooding in the dark?" a female voice asked with amusement.  "How horribly poetic."

"Darla," he replied without bothering to turn.  That voice was intimately tied to the most painful events of his life, he would know it anywhere.  "How did you get in here?"

She laughed lightly.  "Your dear little brother thought you might be in need of some companionship.  And since I’m such a dear old friend, he gave me a call."

Angel looked at her over his shoulder.  He didn’t buy her explanation for a minute.  William would never have sought her out, it simply wasn’t his style.  Darla had probably tracked William down and convinced him to help her insinuate herself back into Angel’s life.  He forced himself to smile at her.  Years of living with his father had made him a consummate actor.

Watching her closely, Angel couldn’t help but notice her beauty.  It wasn’t like Buffy’s.  Buffy’s beauty was rooted in her vitality and innocence and passion for life.  It was as honest and true as the sun.  Darla’s beauty was stunning, but contrived.  It was artifice, every bit of minutiae planned and executed to perfection, a cold beauty.

But from now on, he would no longer have Buffy’s warm beauty.  She gave him the annulment.  She clearly illustrated that she no longer wanted him in her life, that she was content to pretend their marriage had never existed.  He watched as Darla slinked across the darkened room.  He turned and looked out the windows again.  He didn't react as she wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her body along the length of his.

"I missed you," she said and almost sounded sincere.

He laughed silently and tossed back the rest of his drink.  Why fight it?  Buffy was warm and safe in someone’s arms, why should he be lonely?  He turned and pulled her into his embrace, kissing her with abandon.  What was better than sex and revenge?  Darla didn’t know it yet, but she was going to pay for her hand in destroying his marriage.

Buffy couldn't remember the last time she was so pleased and her face reflected it clearly.  Riley looked like his head was about to explode.  There was justice in the universe.

"You're gonna have ... you're, um ... " he stuttered.  "A baby ... wow."

Buffy smiled easily.  "I'm thrilled about it," she said truthfully.

Riley took a seat on the bench next to her.  He ran across her on her way home from finals and she took the opportunity to share her good news.  It was several moments before he could gather his thoughts.  Buffy waited patiently.  "Um," Riley said when he recovered from the shock, "you're not married anymore."

"No, I am not," Buffy confirmed with faux severity.

Riley frowned.  "You don't see this as a problem?"

"No," she said honestly, smiling.  She could feel him shift into lecture mode and prepared herself.

"Buffy," he said in a very serious tone of voice, "I never thought you were the kind of girl to get yourself in a situation like this."

Rolling her eyes, she responded, "What *exactly* is that supposed to mean?  I don't look like the kind of girl who would have sex?"

"You know exactly what I mean," he said gravely.  "Having a child out of wedlock is a big deal.  Have you given any thought to how many difficulties he or she will face because of your shortsightedness?"

Buffy's good mood evaporated in the face of his condescension.  "My baby won't suffer," she said firmly.  "I may not be married, but I want this baby.  I love this baby.  And I'll do everything in my power to make sure that he or she has a good life."

Riley scowled.  "And you think you can raise a child without a partner?"

"People do it all the time, Riley," she said, her tone dry.  "Look around you."

"So," he asked cautiously, "do you ... I mean I'm assuming you know who the father is?"

Buffy gaped at her former boyfriend. "Of course I know who the father is!"

Riley pursed his lips together and looked at the woman he’d known for as long as he could remember.  Of course she knew who the father was. He knew who the father was as well.  Buffy was loyal to a fault and she was still deeply in love with her ex.  "Does Angel not want the baby?" he asked gently with genuine concern.

Buffy took a deep breath and blinked quickly.  She wasn’t going to cry in front of Riley.  She hated it when he got all insightful on her.  Was it that obvious that Angel still played such a big role in her life?  "He doesn’t know," she admitted quietly.

Riley’s expression let her know that he wasn’t pleased, but she didn’t flinch.  "I know you two have a really messy past," Riley said, "and I take responsibility for some of it.  If I hadn’t been so stupid, if I hadn’t left you the way I did, you never would have met Angel and none of this ever would have happened."

Buffy sighed and laced her fingers together in her lap.  "We wouldn’t have been happy together, Riley," she said.

Riley shrugged.  "We’ll never know," he said.  "But I do know that I wouldn’t have hurt you the way that he did."

"You did hurt me, Riley," she said bluntly.  "You abandoned me, embarrassed me ... But you’re right.  You never could have hurt me the way Angel did because I didn’t love you the way I love him."

Riley winced, but remained silent.  After what he had done, Buffy was entitled to her anger.  And he knew it was true.  Buffy had loved him with the unthinking love of a first crush, but she hadn’t been in love with him.  Angel was her true love and he couldn’t compete with that.  "He deserves to know," Riley said quietly.

"I can’t," Buffy said.  "I can’t tell him.  I can’t go through the turmoil with him again.  I won’t lose this baby like the others."

"You can’t be sure that is what will happen," Riley cautioned.

"I don’t care," she said defiantly.  "I will not take the risk."

"So, how about we take a vacation," Darla said, nipping lightly at his earlobe.

Taking her forcibly by the shoulders, Angel firmly removed the woman from his lap and gave her a light push.  Darla scowled.  She'd been trying for days to get him out of his depression, but he seemed determined to brood despite all her efforts.  He was drinking more and more, seldom sleeping.  When they had been together in the past, it had been fun.  They had both been young and rich with money to burn.  Of course that was before Angel’s marriage, before he took over a large portion of his father’s financial responsibilities.  The new and improved Angel was decidedly not fun.  "Are you going to sit here and mope for the rest of your life?" she asked, her temper rising.

"I'll do whatever I damn well please," he bit out tersely.  He didn’t look at her.  Angel was good at that.  He could ignore people better than anyone she had ever met.  She’d been with him for the last eight weeks and as far as she could tell, he had hardly noticed her except when they were having sex.

Trying a different tactic, her lips formed a perfect pout.  "Come on," she said, "you just need a break.  We'll find a nice private beach, sip some fruity drinks with umbrellas."

Slowly, he looked up from the papers he was working on and fixed her with a hard stare.  "And what do you think that will accomplish, Darla?  Do you think that a few days on a beach and spending an obscene amount of money will make me fall in love with you?"

Her expression looked like he had slapped her.  "You do love me," she said, her voice firm, but her eyes betrayed her insecurity.  "You will always love me.  We are meant for each other."

Angel sneered in disgust and leaned back in his chair.  "You were my best friend, Darla," he said, his voice oddly regretful.  "We were young and stupid with too much money and too little morals.  You were the only girl I knew who liked to live as fast and hard as I did."

"I still do," she said angrily.

He shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him one way or the other.  "That was then," he said.  "I genuinely liked you.  I trusted you.  I thought you were a real friend.  You were the only woman I ever dated that had as much money as I did.  You didn’t need me for anything.  We had a good time."

"But?" Darla prompted, her rage building.

"But that was a long time ago," he replied.  "I trusted you and you hurt me.  You tried to destroy my marriage.  You played a big part in Buffy losing the baby.  Your actions had serious consequences for me.  I will never trust you again."

She let out a sharp bark of laughter.  "What about this?" she asked.  "What about what we have now?"

He smiled cruelly.  "I’m a man, Darla," he said.  "You’re very beautiful and you’re willing.  I may not trust you, but I will fuck you."

"You son of a bitch!" she spat.

"Whore," he countered, his face lit with amusement.

"I’m leaving," she raged.

He laughed, the sound full and deep.  He stopped and fixed her with his piercing glare.  "Leave, Darla," he said, his voice full of barely contained rage, "but know that if you ever come near me or Buffy again, I will use every bit of my power to destroy everything you have."

Holtz picked up the photograph and stared at it until his vision blurred with the tears he would not allow to fall.  He did not deserve pity, even from himself.  Four months.  He’d been absolutely sober for four months.  He rubbed his calloused hand roughly over his stubble laden cheeks.  Without the comfort and oblivion alcohol had provided him for the last forty years, life was devastatingly different.

Sobriety forced him to take a look at his life – or what was left of it.  There wasn’t much.  The niggling thread of guilt and self-loathing that had plagued him, even while still drinking was an almost unbearable weight on his shoulders now that he was sober.  His relationship with his only child was non-existent.  Angel openly hated him, and with good reason.  He had been a total bastard to his son for his entire life.

Holtz looked at the photograph of a ten year old Angel.  He should have been laughing and happy, but instead the child was chillingly solemn.  He had done that.  He had done that to his only child, subjected him to a lifetime of pain and horror.  He had warped and twisted a gentle, young boy into the distrustful and guarded man who could barely manage civility towards his father.

But it wasn’t too late.  His brush with mortality had shown him how desperately he wished to live.  And how much he wanted Angel in his life.  Holtz looked at the fax from the private investigator.  His son was about to be a father and he didn’t even know it.  Holtz was going to be a grandfather.

A second chance.  That’s what this child was and Holtz was not about to let it slip away, not from himself and not from Angel.

Buffy opened the envelope and carefully unfolded the letter.  There was a check.  She sighed in relief and immediately grabbed her purse so she would remember to deposit it.  Turning back to the letter, she picked it up carefully and read it.  Tears pricked at her eyes.

It had been extremely difficult explaining to her parents about her situation.  After she had moved to Los Angeles, things had been strained.  They had been very upset that she had left without a word, that she had been really bad about keeping in touch.  They had worried about her for months.

When she finally had returned to Huxley, it was to inform them that she was married to Angel.  They hadn’t been pleased.  They were immediately distrustful of his money and his reserved manner.  He wasn’t like the open, honest people they were used to and they were afraid he would hurt Buffy.  They hadn’t known about her first miscarriage, but they had about her second, and the circumstances surrounding it.  They had gone from disliking Angel to openly hating him.

When Buffy had decided to stay with him and try and work things out after her stint in the clinic, her parents had been very upset.  It had effectively halted all communication between Giles and Joyce Summers and their daughter.  The fact that Buffy had reinitiated contact by telling them that Angel had annulled their marriage while she was pregnant with his child and dead broke hadn’t exactly helped things.

Oddly, it wasn’t as bad as she had expected.  Her parents still hated Angel, but since he was no longer in the picture, they seemed somewhat placated.  Moreover, they were thrilled at the prospect of a grandchild, even if it would be born without a father.  They didn’t have a lot of money, but they sent her a check once a month to help pay for doctor visits and other expenses.

Buffy cried as she read the letter.  She missed her parents so much and they wanted her to move back to Huxley.  Buffy hated the idea of returning to the small town, especially in her current situation, but she was afraid that she was going to be left without a choice.  She was barely scraping by and Willow was a great help but she couldn’t leach off of her forever.  Slowly, she refolded the letter and put a hand over her belly.  "We’ll figure out something," she said to her unborn child and was rewarded with a tiny kick.

Willow studied her friend's odd expression as she sat in one of the comfy reading chairs on her break, her hands placed protectively over her womb.  Her expression was not one of turmoil, but rather wonder.

"What's goin' on?" Willow asked, taking a seat near Buffy's.

Turning to face her with a huge, wondrous grin on her face, Buffy replied, "I'm in my seventeenth week."

Willow's brows knit together as she tried to determine the significance of that statement.

Buffy smiled at her friend.  "The other two  ... "she explained with a hint of sadness, "I lost them in my first trimester."

Willow nodded, aware of the circumstances of her miscarriages.

"I'm in my second now," Buffy said with a look of wonder.  "The doctor told me at my last visit that I would start to feel him, but I didn't think ... "

Willow's eyes went wide.  "You felt the baby move?"

"Yeah," Buffy said almost dreamily.

"Buffy, that's wonderful," Willow gushed.  Up to this point, she had been hesitant to get excited about the child, fearing that Buffy would lose it, but her fears disappeared as she looked at her glowing friend.

"It's really real," Buffy said absently.

Willow smiled.

Buffy looked at her friend across the counter in their kitchen.  "A little bird told me something pretty interesting yesterday."

"What?" Willow asked innocently, busying herself with chopping vegetables.

"So how is Xander?" Buffy asked evilly.

"It was just lunch," Willow countered.

"Uh-huh," Buffy said in obvious disbelief.

Willow sighed and looked at her friend.  "I feel so stupid," she said.  "After all the things he did, I’m having lunch with him."

Buffy shrugged.  "He’s been very persistent," she said.  "And besides, I’m not one to talk.  Look at all the crap Angel pulled and I did a lot more than have lunch with him."  She patted her gently rounded belly.

Angel frowned as he read the phone message in Wesley’s scrawling hand.  Yet another summons from his father.  For weeks, Angel avoided Holtz, claiming he was too busy dealing with company business to take time for a personal meeting.  Part of him was still too raw from everything with Buffy to be able to handle a barrage from his father.

Apparently, Holtz didn’t care.  No big shock there.  He had reached the end of his rope.  The message threatened a litany of unpleasant consequences should Angel refuse this time and Angel took his father at his word.  He never bluffed.  Though he no longer feared his father physically, the man still had a great capacity to wound him emotionally.  It was not going to be a pleasant evening.  Resentfully, Angel resigned himself to making the hour drive to his father's estate.

"I see you received my message," Holtz drawled slowly as his son entered the study.

"With such a charming invitation, how could I resist?" Angel retorted insolently.

Holtz took a moment to assess his son's appearance.  He hadn't seemed right for quite some time, but at the moment he looked like something the cat had dragged in.  He was thin, almost gaunt and his usually piercing gaze was blood shot.  There were also  large dark circles underneath his eyes.  Combined with the fact that he had apparently abandoned any interest in his appearance and it did not make for a pretty picture.  His black shirt and pants were wrinkled and looked like they had been slept in more than once.

"Good Christ," Holtz said, "you look like shit."

"Thank you," Angel replied dryly, scratching roughly at his unshaven jaw.  "Now what exactly did you need to see me about?"

Holtz motioned to a vacant chair and Angel threw himself down into it carelessly.  His manner was edgy and impatient.  It was clear he did not want to be at this meeting.

"I told you once that I would find out what really happened between you and Buffy," Holtz said evenly.

Angel snorted with impudence.  "What the hell does it matter now?" he asked.  "The marriage was annulled.  Your precious money is safe."

Holtz crossed his arms over his chest as he regarded his son carefully.  Their relationship was antagonistic at best, it always had been.  But Holtz knew it was possible to change.  He had made a lot of mistakes that he regretted bitterly, but it wasn’t too late to make amends.

"I think," Holtz said carefully, "that you would do well to check in on your former wife."

Angel's brow furrowed as he stared at his father.  "Why on Earth would I want to do that?" he asked, both annoyed and curious by the odd request.

Holtz smiled an oddly mirthless smile.  "It has been brought to my attention that you may find the visit very ... enlightening," he said cryptically.

A thought hit Angel and something inside his chest tightened to the point of pain.  "Is she all right?" he asked quietly.

Holtz smiled again, but this time the expression held genuine warmth.  "To my knowledge, she is in the best of health," he said.

Angel relaxed.  Now that he was reassured of Buffy’s safety, curiosity gnawed at him.  He knew his father was up to something and he didn’t trust him one bit, but he couldn’t quell the feeling of anticipation he got just thinking about seeing Buffy again.  What could Holtz possibly think to accomplish?  Things were over between he and Buffy, very over.  Sure, he still thought about Buffy all the time, but he had no illusions about her reciprocation.  Her granting him the annulment seemed to signal that she had already moved on.

Without comment, he rose and exited his father’s study.  As much as he hated playing into Holtz’s plans, he couldn’t ignore the suggestion.  Climbing into his car, he headed for the Book n’ Bean.

Despite Willow’s best efforts to keep Buffy off her feet, the latter was determined to earn her keep.  Given that she wasn’t supposed to be lifting, stocking wasn’t an option but she did have other manageable tasks.  She decided to start taking care of the annoying little jobs that everyone seemed to avoid.  Grabbing a step stool and a feather duster, Buffy set about dusting the top shelves that were seldom bothered.

It was around eight thirty Saturday evening when Angel finally reached The Book n’ Bean.  The shop was located in a busy little shopping district, so he had to park several blocks away and walk.  It was after dusk and the store was brightly lit so as he approached he had no trouble seeing inside.  He glanced up and then looked away.  As the image he had seen registered, he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

Buffy had several nice maternity outfits, but she wasn’t about to wear them while dusting.  Money was tight and they would have to last her for a while.  She was just over five months along and already showing.  Jeans and other fitted clothes were no longer an option, they were simply too uncomfortable.  This evening, she was wearing some of her more accommodating regular clothes, a pair of stretchy black capris and a light blue t-shirt with a pair of sensible running shoes.  Buffy had never been heavy, but after all of the stress with her separation and annulment from Angel, she lost enough weight that she had been very unhealthy.  Her morning sickness had been mild and once it passed, she finally started gaining some weight.  However, due to how underfed she had been, all of the weight she gained seemed to go right to her belly, making her pregnancy even more pronounced, especially when she wore her old clothes.

Angel stood absolutely still in the middle of the sidewalk.  Through the window he could see Buffy standing on a step stool on her tiptoes, dusting some shelves that were just out of her reach.  Her body was stretched out as long as was possible, drawing even more attention to her distended stomach.

Angel felt like someone had punched him.  Buffy was pregnant, there was no other explanation for the changes in her body.  He stared at her for a long time, watching as she stopped to answer a customer’s question and then as she shooed Willow away when the redhead tried to get her to sit down.  She looked wonderful, happy and content, nearly glowing.

Angel walked over to a bench that afforded him a view of the storefront and sat down heavily.  Buffy was pregnant.  He let out a long, slow breath.  This was what Holtz wanted him to see, his former wife’s body swelling with a child.

But how?  Part of Angel wanted badly to believe that it was their child, that their last, sweet time together had created a new life, but he knew that couldn’t be true.

//Buffy’s expression was still somewhat vacant, but she was more composed than she had been the last several days.  She was pale, the large purple bruise under her left eye from Darla’s fist showed in harsh relief.  Angel reached over for her hand, trying to curl his fingers around hers, but she pulled her hand out of his grip, not deigning to look at him.  He swallowed audibly, steeling himself as he turned to face Dr. Greenberg.

The doctor’s expression was somber as he pushed his wire rimmed spectacles up on his nose.  He looked over the casefile in front of him one more time before shutting the plain brown folder.  He steepled his fingers on the desktop as he looked at the Roarkes.

"I went over the test results," Dr. Greenberg said, "and I took the liberty of conferring with some well respected colleagues in the field."

Buffy’s gaze never wavered as she stared at the doctor.

His lips pursed together and his eyes dropped to his hands.  "I’m afraid the results are not what we had hoped for," he said.  "A great deal of damage was done with the two previous miscarriages.  The odds of Mrs. Roarke being able to conceive and carry a child to term are negligible."

Angel felt his heart wither.  This was his fault.  The pregnancy had been their last hope for having a child and his own stupidity had destroyed that chance.  He looked at Buffy.  There was no reaction on her features, she stared blankly ahead at the doctor.

"Buffy?" he said quietly.

She didn’t respond.  He reached out to her and she reacted as if his touch had burned her.  She hissed at him, spinning out of her chair like a creature possessed as she backed up against the wall.  Her face was so contorted by rage and pain that her features were almost unrecognizable. Dr. Greenberg called for his nurse to bring a sedative while Angel stared helplessly at his wife.

 "Don’t you dare touch me," she screamed.  "All you have ever brought me is pain!  I’m glad I can’t have your children.  I hate you."//

Angel shook off the painful memory with a shiver.  Buffy was pregnant.  It shouldn’t have been possible.  The doctors, the specialists said she wouldn’t be able to get pregnant and that even if she had, she wouldn’t have been able to carry the child.  Obviously, they were wrong.  The unmistakable swell of her belly was proof enough.  Was it his?  Why wouldn’t she have told him about it if that were true?  Why would she have let the annulment proceed uncontested?  Buffy could barely afford to take care of herself, there was no way she could afford a child without help.

There had to be someone else.  That was the only answer.  Angel felt himself go cold with the realization.  That was why she hadn’t contested the annulment.  She was pregnant with another man’s child.  The pain was so intense that Angel physically doubled over on the bench.

Anger coursed through Angel’s body.  He had to find out who it was, and if it was Riley, he was going to tear the frat boy’s head off with his bare hands.  He waited outside the store, watching Buffy as she continued dusting and helping customers.  Her absolute happiness only served to darken his mood further.

As he watched her a little voice inside his head nagged him.  /~This is stalking ...~/  Angel ignored it.  /~Just talk to her.  Ask her who the father is ... and then try your hardest to not upset her when you dismember him with your bare hands~/.  Angel waited outside The Book n’ Bean until Buffy’s shift was over.  He followed her as she walked to her car, which was parked relatively close to his.  Her car.  The one he bought her.  /~You did owe her~/.

When Buffy drove off, he followed her and was mildly shocked to realize she was driving to the apartment she shared with Willow.  Apparently she wasn’t living with the father of her child.  Angel watched as she got out of the car and headed for the door.  /~This is a dangerous neighborhood.  She shouldn’t be walking around alone in her condition~/.

Angel waited and waited and waited ... and finally realized that Buffy’s secret lover wasn’t going to show up.  He watched as Willow pulled into the parking lot and went inside the apartment building.  He pounded the steering wheel in frustration.  When Wes handed him the summons from Holtz, he thought all he would have to do was talk to the man.  Now, there was no way he was going to be able to go about his daily life like nothing was wrong.  This was going to eat at him until he got to the bottom of things.  With a growl, he started the car.  He was going to find out who Buffy’s new lover was.  He pushed away the nagging "what if" that tugged at him.  The baby wasn’t his.

 "Is he still out there?" Buffy asked as she took the mug of hot water out of the microwave.

"He just left," Willow replied as she shut and locked the door.  She frowned at her friend.  "What do you think he wants?"

Buffy shrugged as she set the mug down on the counter and dunked a teabag into it.  "If the expression on his face was any indication, he knows I’m pregnant and he thinks I have a new boyfriend," she said with a sigh.  She knew Angel and she knew him well.  It was his nature to be distrustful and jealous.

Willow smiled mirthlessly and hooked her backpack over the back of one of the kitchen chairs.  "Jackass," she said.  "Why do men have to be so difficult?  It’s like it would kill them to just ask a simple question."

"That would be too easy," Buffy said with faux seriousness, removing the teabag and pouring a liberal amount of sugar into the mug.

Willow sat down at the table and motioned for her roommate to have a seat.  Buffy joined her at the table.  "Are you going to tell him?" Willow asked.

"No," Buffy said firmly.  "If he wants to know, he can ask me.  I’m not going to throw myself on his mercy and beg him to take me back.  Doctor Gabbert says my pregnancy is progressing perfectly, but I still don’t need the stress.  Besides,  I’m tired of being the one to give.  I know I hurt him, but I never betrayed him.  I’m through making concessions."

Willow smiled.  "Good for you," she said, "but if he starts scaring off my customers, I’m calling the cops."

Buffy nodded.  "Do whatever you have to do."

Willow smiled wryly.  She honestly wouldn’t hesitate to call the cops if he got out of hand.  Buffy might have been willing to cut him a lot of slack, but she sure as hell wouldn’t.  She smiled again as a thought hit her.  "Are you going to warn your parents that he’s stalking you?"

Buffy’s eyes went wide and she stared at her roommate.  "Oh my god," she said.  "I totally forgot that my parents get here on Wednesday."

"You might want to think about it," Willow said. Buffy made no secret of how much her parents did not like her former husband and if they found out he was following her around, things could get bad.

Tuesday morning, Angel watched as Buffy entered the Baby Gap which luckily for him was situated on a corner and had large plate glass windows.  From the bus stop shelter he was skulking in, he had an unimpeded view of the entire store.

He’d followed her for the last two days and was no closer to figuring out who the father of her child was.  He spent most of the morning in a diner across from The Book n’ Bean, watching her and when she left for lunch, he followed.  She stopped by a candy store and bought a bag of lemonheads, her favorites, then wandered around the shopping district.  She acted as though she wanted to avoid the Baby Gap, but was sucked in against her will.  That happened a lot with Buffy when she was shopping.  Some biological imperative kept her from walking past a sale.

She made one circuit around the store looking at everything and then made a second lap, paying a lot more attention to the little boys’ clothes.  /~She’s having a boy.  She’s far enough along that it would show up on a sonogram.~/  Angel shook off the thoughts.  Maybe she just liked those outfits.  He watched as she held up a tiny little t-shirt that a child would probably outgrow in five minutes.  She smiled and draped it over her belly, laughing.  A sales clerk stopped to ask her if she needed help and Buffy modeled the shirt for her, turning from side to side with the tiny little shirt against her stomach.  She laughed and the sales clerk laughed and Angel wanted to scream.

Buffy’s shoulders sagged as she sighed and she handed the little shirt to the sales clerk with a nod.  He watched as she leafed through her billfold, carefully counting out the money.  /~She works part time at a bookstore.  There’s no way she can afford a child.~/  Angel felt sorry but quickly steeled himself.  /~Maybe her new boyfriend just keeps her on a tight leash.~/

Discretely, he followed her back to work and watched as she smoothed the apron over her rounded stomach.  Wonder was written on her face as she put a hand to her belly and smiled.

Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy watched Angel lurk.  He thought he was being so sneaky.  She let him keep his illusions.  Sighing, she rubbed her tummy.  "Your daddy loves you," she whispered to her child.  "He’s just being difficult at the moment."

The rest of the afternoon progressed without incident and Angel was beginning to wonder if there was a boyfriend in the picture.  If there was, he was sure keeping a low profile.

Angel /~Stalker.  I’m a stalker.~/ followed Buffy and Willow when they left work together.  They stopped by a convenience store that had dirt-cheap and surprisingly good Chinese food for supper.  He and Buffy used to stop there quite a bit and Buffy always swore she never wanted to know what the special ingredient was.  He smiled before he could catch himself.  He followed them back to their apartment and sat in the parking lot staring at their lighted windows for hours before giving up and going home.  He had an early morning meeting tomorrow that he couldn’t miss and a full day of dealing with work related matters that didn’t care about his relationship with Buffy.

Buffy smiled as she handed her father the cup of coffee.  She had picked Giles and Joyce up from the airport at eight o’clock that morning.  Most of the day, they had been relatively well behaved, but her mother managed to offhandedly mention Riley at least four different times and Giles had insisted she invite him over for coffee after dinner.

Buffy had relented, but not before making it clear that Riley was not in the running to be the father for her child.  She pointedly reminded them that Riley too, had left her and hurt her and he was the reason she was in L.A. at all.  Giles and Joyce hadn’t been pleased to hear that, but they had laid off a bit.

Willow stood by the sliding glass doors, watching the parking lot.  She laughed.  Buffy turned and looked at her curiously.  "This should be interesting," Willow said.

Buffy’s face fell.  "What?" she asked.

"Riley is on his way up," she said.  "And it looks like he’ll have company very shortly."

"Oh no," Buffy said, sitting down on the sofa.

"What’s going on?" Joyce asked, looking first at Buffy and then at Willow.

"You better tell them," Willow said.  "They’re definitely going to find out."

Joyce and Giles looked at their daughter.  She flinched.  "Angel has been following me around lately," she admitted, unable to look at either of them.

"He’s been what?" Giles asked, his voice low and full of menace.

"He’s not hurting anything, Dad," Buffy pled. "He just ... lurks."

"He doesn’t have any business near you," Giles fumed, his arms crossed over his chest.

"He’s not near me," Buffy explained.  "He hasn’t spoken to me at all.  He’s just ... around."

Joyce’s brow furrowed as she took a seat next to her daughter on the sofa.  "Well, why is he going to be here tonight, then?" she asked.

"Riley," Buffy said.  "If Riley hadn’t come over, he probably would have sat in his car in the parking lot all night, but if Riley comes up here, Angel is going to follow him."

"Why?" Giles asked.

"To beat the crap out of him," Willow said, reaching for the cordless phone.  "I’m calling the cops."

There was a knock on the door and Joyce rushed to open it.  Riley stood alone in the hall and she quickly ushered him inside and locked the door.  "Did you see Angel out there?" Joyce asked.

Riley shook his head.  "No," he answered.  "Is he here?  I’ve been trying to convince Buffy to talk to him for weeks."

"No," Buffy said, "he isn’t here.  At least not yet."

Riley frowned.  "You’re still not speaking with him."  It wasn’t a question.

"No," Buffy said in a near growl.  She was getting really sick of people telling her what she needed to do.

"He deserves to know, Buffy," Riley said, his exasperation clear as he tried to talk some sense into his friend.

"If you think he deserves to know, then you can tell him when he gets here," she replied impudently from where she sat on the sofa.

Riley’s brow furrowed.  "What are you talking about?" he asked, looking from Buffy’s worried expression to her parent’s furious ones.

"Someone must have told him about the baby," she said.  "He’s been following me around for about three days.  He’s been sitting in his car in the parking lot for the last two hours.  When you came in, he followed."

Before she finished talking, someone pounded on the apartment door.  Riley looked at the door and unconsciously rubbed his nose.  "Go ahead," she said sarcastically.  "Explain it.  I’m sure he’ll be real reasonable."

Willow looked at the phone in her hand.  "I am calling the cops," she repeated.

"Just give me a second," Riley said to Willow, motioning for her to put the phone down.  As afraid of Angel as he was, he still had the ultimate confidence in his ability to be an effective counselor.  He walked to the door.  "Who is it?" he yelled through the door.

"Open. Up."

"Angel just calm down-" Riley started.

"Open the fucking door, Riley," Angel countered, sneering the name.

Riley stepped back from the door and touched his fingers to the bridge of his nose again.  "You have a lot of nerve," he said, his anger with Angel getting the better of him.

There was absolute silence from the hallway.

"What did you say?"  The menace was clear in Angel’s voice despite the fact that the sound was muffled by the door.

"I said you have a lot of nerve," Riley yelled louder.  "First you cheat on Buffy, then you kick her out, then you get her pregnant and have the audacity to annul your marriage.  You abandoned your wife and child.  I can’t believe I’ve been trying to convince Buffy to talk to you.  You don’t deserve her."

Buffy sat there holding her breath, eyes wide.  She really hadn’t intended for Riley to explain things to Angel, especially in front of her parents.

"Let me talk to Buffy," Angel said through the door.

Buffy started to get off the couch and Giles gave her a withering glare.  She sat down.  Slowly, he flipped the bolt on the door and pulled it open.  Angel’s expression was furious, but as he realized that it was his former father-in-law, and not Riley, before him, he wilted.

"S-s-sir," he stuttered in shock.  He’d seen Buffy’s father a total of five times the entire seven years that he had been with her.  He was completely unprepared for the man to be standing in her apartment.  He had no idea Buffy had reconciled with her parents.

"I think it would be best if you left," Giles said, his voice icy.

Angel swallowed and looked around Giles into the apartment.  Riley stood near the door, hanging back behind Giles.  Buffy and Joyce sat on the couch.  Buffy wouldn’t look at him, but Joyce glared.  Willow looked as happy to see him as Buffy’s parents did.  "I just ... " he started, but trailed off.

"Just?" Giles prompted.  "Just what?  Just wanted to physically attack Riley when all he’s done is be a friend to my daughter?"

Angel stared blankly at the older man.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Giles hissed, his voice thick with contempt.  "You abandoned your wife while she is pregnant with your child.  You paid off a judge to get the marriage annulled so that she cannot support herself or the baby.  You disgust me."

Angel swallowed thickly, but shook off his stupor.  "I didn’t know," he said.

"Know what?" Giles demanded.

"About the baby," Angel answered, his voice taking on weight.  "I would never have done that if I had known."

Giles’ jaw tightened as he looked at his former son-in-law.  "How nice to know," he said, "that you would abandon your wife, but not your child.  That speaks well of you."

Angel flushed in embarrassment.  "That’s not what I meant," he said.  "Buffy and I ... I still ... I wasn’t thinking clearly.  I never meant to hurt her."

"Do you honestly expect anyone to believe-" Giles stopped as Buffy laid her hand on his arm.  He turned and looked at his daughter, there were tears standing in her eyes.

"Please don’t do this," she pled, her voice wispy.

Giles’ rage faded as he looked at his baby girl, so sad and in such a difficult situation.  Slowly, he brushed a lock of hair off her forehead.  He loved her and as much as it pained him to admit, he knew she was an adult.  She had to make her own decisions, ones that were best for both herself and her child.  Giles stepped back so Buffy could walk out into the hall.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Angel backed up as she stepped into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind her.  He had to bend his neck to look at her.  Somehow he always managed to forget just how small she was.

"You wanted to talk to me," Buffy said, her arms crossed over her belly, her vision fixed firmly on the floor.

Angel opened his mouth and then closed it again.  Actually face to face with her, he didn’t know what to say.  Slowly, Buffy looked up and met his eyes.  Angel swallowed harshly and steeled his nerve.

"Who is the father?" he asked, his voice deceptively even.

Buffy looked at him and some spiteful part of her wanted to lash out at him, to make him suffer like he had made her suffer, but she couldn’t do it.  She wanted to hate him after all he’d put her through, but when it came down to it, she was no more capable of hurting him than she was of hurting her unborn child.  "The baby is yours, Angel," she said clearly.  "You know that as well as I do."

He looked at her, fighting to retain his composure.  If she was playing with him ...  He wanted this.  He wanted it so badly that if it wasn’t true, he knew it would destroy him.  Completely.  With calculated effort, he cleared his throat.  "Are you certain?" he asked, his voice thick with skepticism.

Buffy winced and then pursed her lips together, shaking her head lightly as she looked at him with an expression that was a mixture of incredulity, exasperation, rage and pain.  She wanted to hurt him.  She wanted to physically lash out, but she didn’t.  Tears glistened in her eyes.  "I am absolutely certain," she said, her voice a bare whisper but her conviction echoed.

Angel simply stared at her, but Buffy watched the emotions play in his eyes.  He was wavering.  Everything life had taught him, everything he had learned from his parents cautioned him to disbelieve her.  He was being handed a second chance, but he couldn’t allow himself to reach out and grab it.  "But the doctor said –" he started.

"I know what the doctor said, Angel," she interrupted, her anger getting the better of her as she snapped at him.  "Trust me, I was listening.  For months I heard to his ‘expert’ diagnosis over and over again in my head."

He had the decency to look sheepish.

"This baby is yours," she said firmly, glaring at him.  "I am telling you the truth and you can either believe me or not, but I refuse to spend the next four months trying to appease your bruised ego.  You can accept the truth and you can be a part of this or you can accuse me of lying and when this baby is born I’ll slap you with a paternity suit and sue you for child support so fast it will make your head spin."

Angel’s eyes went wide for a moment and he opened his mouth to say something.  Apparently his brain kicked in and he managed to think better of it.  He shut his mouth and slowly nodded.  His gaze dropped to her swollen belly and his expression softened.  "How?" he asked quietly.

Buffy took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  She knew that this was his way of saying he believed her.  "You know exactly how," she replied.  "And when.  And where."

Angel lifted his gaze and smiled wryly at his former wife.  "You know what I mean," he said gently.

Buffy frowned and tried to look at her toes.  She couldn’t see them over the swell of her stomach.  The realization made her smile.  "I don’t know," she admitted in a tiny voice.  "And I haven’t asked.  It doesn’t matter to me how it happened, just that it did."

Angel sighed and some of the tension he’d been holding for months eased away.  Buffy’s fingers were laced together over her rounded stomach.  Lightly, he ran his fingertips over her knuckles.  "Let’s go somewhere and talk," he said.

Buffy sniffled but still didn’t look up.  "I don’t have any shoes on," she said, sounding utterly pitiful.

Angel smiled.  "Well, then go get some shoes," he said gently.

Buffy looked up at him.  "Okay," she said.

As Buffy turned, Angel was right at her back.  She stopped with her hand on the doorknob.  "You wait out here," she said.  She felt Angel tense behind her.  "You were never their favorite person, Angel, and right now you’re about as in the doghouse as a person can get."

Buffy blinked away tears as Angel pulled the car into the driveway in front of their house.  Their home.  She knew he’d been living in his condo downtown for months.  Meredith, the housekeeper, was the only person still in residence.

Angel got out of the car and opened Buffy’s door for her.  He held out his hand, but she didn’t take it, preferring to get out of the car by herself.  Angel didn’t push the issue.  It was enough that she had agreed to talk to him.  They walked to the door and Angel pulled out a key and unlocked it.

"Where’s Meredith?" Buffy asked as they stepped into the foyer.

"I called her when you went to get your shoes," Angel replied.  "She has the night off."

Buffy looked at him, her expression somber.  "That’s fairly presumptuous," she said.

He shook his head.  "I’m not assuming anything," he said.  "I just didn’t want an audience.  I’m sick of having our private affairs played out in public."

Buffy turned and wrapped her arms around herself.  She hadn’t been back in the house for more than half a year and even then, it had been at least twice that since she had been happy here.  Her last months had been spent sleeping alone in her huge bedroom while Angel stayed in the pool house, coming and going at all hours.  At least he’d never been stupid enough to bring any of his companions home with him.

Buffy walked through the house and up the huge staircase that led to the second story.  Angel followed closely, but didn’t say anything.  He shadowed her as she walked down the darkened hallway and pushed open the doors to the master suite.  She flicked on the light and blinked against the glare.  It looked perfect, but sterile. All personality had been removed.  In her absence the room had been redecorated, presumably under Angel’s authority.  The carpet, the wallpaper, even the furniture was different.  Slowly, she moved across the room to the partially closed door between the walk-in closet and the bathroom.  She stepped inside.  Angel leaned against the doorjamb and flicked on the light.  Buffy looked around the small space.

"You forgot a room," she said.

"I didn’t forget anything," he replied.  "They emptied out this room just like all the others.  When I found out, I made them put it back."

Buffy walked over to the crib and ran her fingers along the polished, albeit dusty, wood.  When she found out she was pregnant the second time, they bought an entire set of nursery furniture.  After the miscarriage, she had always intended to turn the little room into an office, but she could never bring herself to do it.  It would have been too much like giving up.

"Why did you keep it?" she asked.

"Because I’m a masochist," he said acridly.

Buffy looked at him over her shoulder, her expression harsh.  He looked chagrinned and stood up straight.  "Because I still dreamed," he said quietly.  "Because it was the one illusion I couldn’t stand to destroy."

Buffy nodded and turned back to face the crib.  "Did you ever share this illusion with any of them?" she asked.

"Them?"

"Don’t insult me," she said.  "You know exactly what I’m talking about."

Angel sighed and closed his eyes.  "I know I don’t deserve your trust," he said, "but you have to believe me when I say ‘no’.  I swear to you that I did not."

Buffy picked up a tiny stuffed rabbit that was sitting in the crib.  Despite all of her anger, she did believe him.  She took a deep breath, cuddling the toy close.  "I know I pushed you away," she admitted.  "I know that I blamed you for everything and that I shut down.  But I won’t take all the blame anymore.  I was never unfaithful to you.  I regretted what I had done so much, and I hated myself so much that I stood by and did nothing while you catted around town."

She turned to face Angel. He met her gaze, but said nothing to defend himself.  "I won’t do it again," she said.  "I want you in the baby’s life, but I just don’t know about us.  I don’t know if I can trust you."

Angel stepped into the room and looked at Buffy seriously.  "I want to try," he said.  "I know I have a lot to prove to you, but I will do anything for that chance."

Buffy looked at him and then suddenly laughed.  It was a shrill, unsettling sound.

"Buffy?" Angel asked, concern etched on his features.

"Sorry," she said, "I’m just thinking we’re going to be the biggest screw ups as parents."

Angel smiled self-deprecatingly.  "Trust me," he said, "there’s no way we can be any worse than my parents."

Buffy frowned.  "I’m not sure that’s a vote of confidence," she said.

"Maybe not," he conceded, "but it could be a lot worse.  We both want this baby.  We both care about each other. I know it’s not perfect, but we’re willing to try.  I know we have a messy past, but we still have a future."

Buffy patted her rounded belly.  "Yeah," she said, "we do.  We have a son on the way."

Angel’s eyes went wide.  "It’s a little boy?" he asked.

Buffy nodded and winced.  "He’s really active this time of the evening," she said.  She reached for his hand and Angel went along docilely as she placed it on her belly.  Before long, he could feel the tiny little movements.

A single tear made its way down Angel’s cheek and Buffy had to grip the side of the crib to prevent herself from wiping it away.

Giles and Joyce watched Buffy like a hawk as she poured herself a glass of milk.  "So?" Joyce asked impatiently.

Buffy put the glass of milk down on the counter and turned to face her parents.  "We’re talking," she said.

"And?" Giles prompted.

"And nothing," Buffy said.  "We have a lot to work through before this baby is born, so at the moment, we’re talking.  He’s agreed to give me a settlement to pay for the doctor bills and rent and so I won’t have to work, but nothing is permanent."

Giles sighed.  Part of him had been terrified that once again Buffy would welcome her worthless husband back with open arms, but she was being cautious and wary.  He should have known that she wouldn’t risk anything where her child was concerned.  "Are you okay?" he asked seriously.

"Yeah," Buffy said, "amazing as it is, I am.  We had a really nice, brutally honest discussion.  It was painful, but it was good too.  I think we can go somewhere from here."

"Where do you want to go?" Joyce asked.

"I don’t know," Buffy replied.  "I want him in our son’s life, but I don’t honestly know if we can be together or not.  We’ll just have to wait and see."

Holtz looked at his son.  "I assume you’ve spoken with your ex," he said.

"Former," Angel corrected.  "It was an annulment.  Buffy isn’t my ex."

"Answer the question," Holtz said, not amused.

Angel looked at him warily.  "You knew all along, didn’t you?" he asked.

Holtz took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Speaking with his son had never been easy, but he was making a concerted effort to be better about it.  Mother Nature had given him a brutal reality check.  And he wasn’t out of the woods yet.   Angel was all he had in this world.  "I knew," he said quietly.  "And I thought you should know as well.  I know you still love that girl."

Angel looked past his father to study the walls of his private library.  He rose from his chair and paced around the room.  Something on one of the bookshelves caught his eye and he ventured closer.  He looked at the picture and his throat tightened painfully.  "Why do you have this?" he asked.

Holtz looked at his son and at the worn picture of Jenny holding Angel when he was just a baby.  "Because it is important to me," he said.

Angel looked at the man, trying to find the hidden agenda in his words, but could discern none.  Slowly, his lips twisted into a cruel smile.  "You’re sick aren’t you?" he asked.

Holtz laughed wryly and nodded.  "Cancer," he said.  "I find that major surgery and a regiment of chemotherapy drugs make me more susceptible to maudlin sentiment."

Angel’s smile faded and he regarded his father seriously.  The man had major surgery and nobody had bothered to tell him.  It wasn’t odd, especially given how close they weren’t, but it still bothered him.  He didn’t like the fact that it bothered him.  "Are you dying?" he asked.

"Not yet," Holtz replied dryly.  "The doctors have informed me that as long as I abstain from alcohol, I have an eighty percent chance of living long enough to die from something else."

"So why all the outpouring of emotion?" Angel asked callously.

Holtz looked at his son, his expression pensive.  He was quiet for a very long time and Angel shifted nervously under the weight of his gaze, eventually retreating to his chair.  Holtz cleared his throat loudly.  "I am truly sorry," he said quietly.  "I know I was a horrible father.  I know that I blamed you for your mother’s actions."  He laughed self-deprecatingly.  "I know that I drove her to most of her treachery.  I treated her like a possession and a servant, not a partner.  I ignored her needs and her pain.  I ignored you.  I took my rage out on both of you."

Angel swallowed thickly, blinking back tears.  "Why are you telling me all of this?" he asked.

"Because I regret it deeply and I wish to make amends," he said with a sigh.  "You and your unborn child are all I have in this world, Angel.  I find that as I accumulate more and more possessions that they mean less and less to me.  Humanity is what is important.  Regardless of what my actions may have seemed to indicate, I do love you and I would like to know my grandchild."

Angel looked away as a tear streamed down his face.  He hated himself for this weakness.  He hated that after so many years and so much pain that Holtz still had the ability to hurt him.

"I know you don’t believe me," Holtz said, his voice morose, "but I speak the truth."

"I have to go," Angel said, levering himself out of the chair and walking out of the office before Holtz could say anything.

"What the hell do you want at this time of night?" Willow demanded as she opened the door a crack being sure not to remove the chain.

"Please just let me in," he said.

"It’s two in the morning," Willow hissed.  "Buffy is asleep."

Angel looked at her, his eyes red rimmed.  "Please," he said quietly.

Willow frowned, but stepped aside.  He was upset.  Not angry, but deeply upset about something and he wanted to talk to Buffy.

Buffy woke disoriented, her door was open and light from the nightlight in the hallway seeped in.  Someone was in her room, touching her, shaking.  She wasn’t alarmed - and slowly realized it was because the touch was achingly familiar.  As her eyes adjusted she could make out Angel’s form, kneeling on the floor next to her bed, crouched over her, his face pressed against her belly as he sobbed soundlessly.

She ran her fingers through his hair.  "Angel?" she said gently.

He turned his face towards her and she could see the tears on his cheeks.  "Angel," she repeated.  He remained silent and she eventually gave up and scooted over on the bed far enough to make room for him.  She pulled on his arm and he took the cue and climbed into the tiny bed with her, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair while he concentrated on slowing his breathing.

Buffy held him, but she was worried.  This wasn’t Angel’s style.  Even at his worst, she had never seen him fall apart like this.  Anger, yes, but crying, no.  She held him for a long time.  When she was finally certain he had calmed down, she asked, "What’s wrong?"

He groaned.  "Nothing," he said.

She sat up in bed and clicked on her lamp.  He looked like hell.  She gently traced his brow with her fingertips.  "What happened?"

He sighed, turning into her touch and placed his large hand on her belly.  "I had a nice little conversation with my father today," he said.

Buffy frowned.  Holtz Roarke was not her favorite person.  "What did he have to say this time?" she asked dryly.

Angel took a deep breath and looked at her.  "He told me that he loves me and that he was a horrible father and he wants to make things right," he said quietly.

Buffy gaped at her former husband.  "Are you serious?" she asked.

Angel nodded.

Buffy sighed and ran her fingers through his hair again as he chewed on his bottom lip, lost in some internal monologue.  Angel didn’t talk about his father much, but she knew that things between them had been very bad.  She honestly couldn’t imagine what such a revelation would do to Angel.  He tried to be so self-sufficient, so hard, but there would always be part of him that desperately longed for his father’s attention, affection and approval.  To have Holtz broach this subject while Angel was grappling with his own impending fatherhood had to be overwhelming.

Buffy grunted softly as the baby kicked, dragging his father from his thoughts.  Angel smiled and scooted down the bed until his face was even with Buffy’s stomach.  His feet hung off the end of the bed, but he didn’t seem to notice or mind.  He pressed his face against her abdomen and waited for the baby to move.  It took several minutes, but he felt the sharp motion of his child deep in his mate’s body.

"My boy," he said with a sigh, wrapping his arms around Buffy’s waist.  "I swear I’ll be a good father."

Buffy ran her fingers through his hair and made a decision.  With some rather graceless shifting, she managed to pull her nightgown up until it bunched under her breasts.  Angel looked at her questioningly.  "Temperature," she said.

Angel frowned, looking at the bare skin of Buffy’s belly.  She blushed.  Fifteen pounds heavier and pleasantly rounded while wearing some decidedly un-sexy underwear was not her first choice for ways to be seen by Angel, but it couldn’t be helped.  He’d seen her in less and her current distorted appearance was his doing, so he could just deal with it.  "Skin to skin contact seems to make a difference," she said.  "He moves around more if you touch bare skin.  It has something to do with body heat."

Angel smiled and pressed his face to the skin of her abdomen.  It was warm and fragrant, the scent that was undeniably Buffy.   He sighed, rubbing against her like a contented cat.  The baby reacted almost immediately, kicking.  Angel laughed and the baby kicked harder.

Buffy lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, giving Angel a chance to bond with his son.  She knew it was different with men.  A lot of times, for them, none of it was really real until the baby was actually born.  It seemed to be sinking in on Angel faster than most.  Buffy was very pleased.  If anyone needed time to acclimate, it was Angel.

She felt it as he placed a gentle kiss on her belly.  Buffy’s initial reaction was to cuddle close to him, but she stopped herself.  The fact that someone had body-snatched Holtz and replaced him with a Stepford robot did not change things between them.  She felt for Angel, but Holtz’s mind trip wasn’t a get out of jail free card.

She sighed, pushing her nightgown down.  "Angel," she said.  "You need to go."

He looked up at her solemnly.  She felt like she’d just kicked a puppy.  "You can’t stay here," she said.  "And I can’t let you stay here."

"Buffy," he pled.

"I would offer you the couch," she said, "but I don’t think Willow would appreciate it.  And you can’t stay in here.  It’s just ... You can’t.  It makes things too confusing."

"For whom?" he asked grumpily.

"For me," she said firmly.

Angel frowned, but it was obvious he was feeling much better.  Reluctantly, he rose from the bed and waited while Buffy got her robe and walked him to the door.  When he was in the hallway, he turned to face her.  "Can we have coffee tomorrow?" he asked.

"I can’t have coffee," she said.  "Too much caffeine."

"Fine," he said, "can we have water tomorrow?"

Buffy smiled in spite of herself.  "Pick me up at three," she said.

Angel pulled her close and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and then dropped to his knees and kissed her belly.  "See you tomorrow," he said.

Days later, Buffy closed the apartment door and leaned back against it with a contented sigh.  It had been a good day.  A very good day.  Idly, she smoothed the front of her overalls down around her belly.

"You look like the cat that ate the canary."

Buffy raised her head and met Xander’s teasing gaze.  She smiled warmly and he returned the gesture readily.  "I might say the same about you," she said.

His grin intensified.  "I’m just happy, Buffster.  Nothing more, nothing less."

Buffy nodded and took a seat on the sofa next to him.  "Where’s Will?" she asked.

"Changing," he said.  "We’re going to a play tonight, Titus Andromeda or something."

"Andronicus," Willow called from her room.

Xander shrugged.  It was obvious he didn’t care what they were going to see.  He’d never been much for cultural events, but Willow was and he was bound and determined to win her back.  He’d sit through hours of unintelligible Indian movies if it would help him get back in her good graces.

"You and Angel have been spending a lot of time together lately," Xander goaded.  "Will tells me you’ve been out for either lunch or dinner six times in the last week and that he’s going to your doctor visit with you tomorrow."

Buffy looked at him with mock severity.  "It is his child, Xander," she said.  "He has every right to be at the doctor visit."

"And what about dinner, does he have every right to monitor what you’re eating?"

With a smile, she replied, "Okay, so maybe we have been hanging out a lot."

Xander’s jovial expression faded to something more serious.  "You look happy," he said, "and that makes me happy."

"Thanks," she said.  "It looks like you and Wills aren’t doing so bad yourselves."

He sighed and sank back in the cushions of the couch.  "She’s talking to me," he said hopefully.  "Beyond that, nothing else, but I know I screwed up.  I know I owe her big time.  I know I should be licking her boots until the end of time."

"But you’re not licking her boots, you’re having quality bondy time," Buffy said, waggling her eyebrows at her friend.

He smiled.  "And that is exactly why life is so good."

"Everything looks perfect," Dr. Gabbert said as she flipped the chart shut.

"You’re certain?" Angel said abruptly.

He was being rude, but Dr. Gabbert was used to that by now.  First time fathers were often jittery and suspicious.  Buffy had shared enough of her medical history to let Dr. Gabbert know that as the father of this child, Angel had every right to be worried.  Buffy had experienced serious complications in the past. This pregnancy, however, seemed to be right on schedule whether Buffy’s "friend" wanted to accept it or not.

"Certain," Dr. Gabbert said firmly.  "But given the difficulties you’ve had in the past, I would like to start seeing you once a week from here on out.  We usually don’t start that until the eighth month, but I think it would be wise to err on the side of caution.  I hope this won’t put you in a pinch financially or with your job."

Buffy shot Angel a sidewise glance and then looked sheepishly at the doctor.  "It won’t be a problem," she said.  "I’m not working anymore."

"Oh," Dr. Gabbert said, clearly shocked.  Buffy had been coming to see her since she initially discovered she was pregnant and everything she had said had led Dr. Gabbert to believe that she was in a financially difficult position.

"Angel has us taken care of financially," Buffy explained vaguely.

Dr. Gabbert leveled her gaze on the young woman.  She seriously liked Buffy and hated to think what it would do to her to be abandoned by the child’s father.  "Are you two married?" she asked, knowing full well that Buffy had left her marital status as "single" on her charts.

"Not yet," Angel said defensively, before Buffy could reply.

Cocking an eyebrow at Angel, Dr. Gabbert said, "Yet?"

"Angel and I were married before," Buffy said.  "For a significant amount of time."

Dr. Gabbert nodded and sat back in her chair.  If they had been together for a "significant amount of time", then odds were that Buffy’s two previous miscarriages had been with Angel.  Apparently his anxiety wasn’t all due to his impending fatherhood.  Dr. Gabbert had seen Buffy’s medical history.  She had seen what the miscarriages had done to the young woman.  Angel was right to be worried and to do everything in his power to take care of her.  Obviously, they had their problems, but Angel’s concern for the baby and the baby’s mother was genuine.  "I’ll expect to see you both in here next week," she said.

Buffy and Angel nodded in unison.

Buffy laughed and popped another piece of popcorn into her mouth.  She loved this movie.  It had to be the twentieth time she had seen it, but it never failed to make her laugh.  Without taking her eyes off the screen, she wiped her hands on a napkin and then threaded her fingers through Angel’s hair.  He was laying with his head in her lap, turned towards her rounded stomach rather than the television set, so she didn’t have far to stretch.  He sighed and snuggled closer to her.

Buffy knew that she was doing a horrible job of keeping her distance, but she couldn’t help it.  Despite all the horror and pain that they had experienced in the past, she just didn’t feel whole when Angel wasn’t around.  And the fact that he wasn’t even making a vague attempt to keep his distance wasn’t doing anything to further her resolve.

They were spending a quiet evening together.  Angel made omelets while Buffy dug through his DVD collection.  She discovered that he hadn’t thrown away any of hers and when she wanted to watch her favorite movie again, he hadn’t complained.  Of course, he hadn’t watched it either.  He spent the entire evening with his face buried against her stomach, dozing.  Not that she minded.

As the credits began to roll, Buffy stopped the playback.  The TV flipped to a blank blue screen, the only illumination in the room.  Buffy sighed deeply and looked around.  On the pretext of giving Xander and Willow some private time, they spent the evening in the house they used to call home.  Buffy forgot how much she loved this room, Angel’s inner sanctum that smelled of leather, raw wood, cigars and brandy.  And of course it was filled with every electrical toy available to the modern male.  She smiled and sank back as far as she could into the soft leather couch.  Angel shifted his head in her lap and Buffy knew he wasn’t asleep.  She ran her nails lightly along his scalp.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

He sighed contentedly and rolled onto his back far enough to be able to meet her gaze.  "Names," he said.

She smiled.  "Names," she parroted, her voice soft and wistful.

"Do you have any picked out?" he asked.

She shook her head and smiled again, only this time it was tinged with sadness.  "I didn’t want to get ahead of myself," she said.

Angel’s lips pursed into a grim line and he said gently, "We can’t think like that, Buffy.  This pregnancy isn’t like the other two and you’re far enough along now that even if there were some major complication, odds are the baby would survive."

She sighed.  "I know," she said, "it’s just ...  I’m gun-shy I guess."

He reached out for her hand and pulled it to his face, pressing a kiss inside her palm.  "Everything is going to be all right this time, Buffy," he said.

"Are you fucking brain dead!" Angel yelled, slamming his palm into the Volvo’s horn.  "Move!"

Reaching over, Buffy grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand off of the horn.  He turned and looked at her, almost as if he was surprised she was there.  He was more than a little frazzled.  Rush hour traffic wasn’t helping – or the fact that Buffy was in labor.  Though her jaw was clenched tightly shut, she smiled at him with as much patience as she could muster.  "Angel," she said softly.  "I would like to live long enough to get to the hospital."

He dropped his gaze sheepishly.  "I just want to get there," he said quietly.

"I know you’re nervous," she said, "but it is probably going to be a while before junior gets here so please don’t get into a car wreck."

He nodded and turned back to the road, somewhat more composed.  Buffy knew it wouldn’t last long.  He’d been on pins and needles the last two weeks and when she finally started having contractions, shortly after noon, he came completely unglued.

Buffy blinked slowly, yawning.  She rolled her head to the side and looked at Angel who was seated in the chair next to her bed, completely transfixed on the infant in his arms.  She smiled broadly.  "Hey," she said softly.

Angel looked up and smiled from ear to ear.  "Hey," he replied.  With great care, he scooted the chair closer to the bed and handed the sleeping baby to Buffy.  "He’s so tiny," Angel whispered, gently running the tip of his finger over the back of his son’s hand.

Buffy stared at the father of her child.  "Angel, he weighed nine pounds," she said.

"I know," he said, all of his attention riveted on his son.  "He’s tiny."

Buffy smiled and looked at her son.  He was tiny, but her perception was somewhat colored by the fact that she had actually given birth to him.  For a baby, he was rather on the large side.  She sighed and cuddled the baby close.  Angel rested his chin on his hand and watched them.

"What?" Buffy asked with a smile.

"Just thinking," he said.

"’Bout what?"

Slowly, he reached inside his shirt and pulled out the silver chain that he always wore.  Unhooking the clasp, he unthreaded Buffy’s ring from the chain.  He grasped the Claddagh between his thumb and forefinger and held it up to her.  "Marry me," he said.

Buffy pursed her lips together, tears welling in her eyes.  "Because of the baby?" she asked.

"Because I love you and I want to be a family," he said seriously.

A tear streamed down Buffy’s cheek.  "I love you," she said.

"Is that a yes?" he asked.

She nodded.  "Yes," she whispered.

The waiting room was full when Angel finally made his way there with his son.  "Angel!" Willow chirped, jumping to her feet and bounding across the room.  While Holtz and Giles managed to not appear quite so rushed, they were both hot on Willow’s heels.

"He’s perfect!" Willow cooed, wrapping herself around Angel to get a closer look at the baby.  Angel smiled.  Apparently he was back in the redhead’s good graces.

Giles cleared his throat loudly and Angel met his expectant gaze.  His vision momentarily flitted to Holtz who was standing right next to Giles.  The two grandfathers faced off for several tense seconds, but Holtz took a tiny step back.  "By all means," he said solicitously.

With great care, Angel handed his son to Giles who beamed at the sleepy infant.  "Astounding," he said.  "What’s his name?"

"Liam Connor Roarke," Angel replied.

Giles looked slightly miffed about the fact that Liam didn’t have Summers as a last name, but his irritation vanished as his grandson made a tiny gurgling sound.  Angel watched as Joyce pried the baby from Giles grasp with a look that promised a painful death to anyone who attempted to intercede.  Buffy’s parents huddled around the baby as Faith, Xander, Willow and Riley all vied for a closer spot.

Cautiously, Holtz approached his son who stood several feet back from the action. "I trust Buffy is doing well?" he asked.

Angel nodded. "She’s sleeping," he said, "but everything went fine."

"Very good," Holtz said.

The two stood there in a strained silence while everyone else was fixated on the baby.  Holtz shifted nervously, turning to face his son.  He awkwardly placed a hand on Angel’s forearm.  "Congratulations," he said seriously.

"Thank you," Angel replied, tears glistening in his eyes.

Angel studied his wife’s pensive face as she stared at the ceiling, chewing on her bottom lip.  She unconsciously toyed with the Claddagh, spinning it around on her finger.

"Penny for your thoughts," Angel said, scooting closer to her under the covers.

Turning her head towards him, Buffy frowned.  "Penny?" she said in mock insult.  "You’re loaded and all I get is a penny?"

Narrowing his eyes at her, Angel crawled over her, pinning her to the bed with his warm, naked body.  "Alright, smartass," he said wryly.  "You already know that everything I have is yours so don’t act all put out.

She grinned wickedly at him and lifted her head to kiss along his collarbone.  Angel shut his eyes and groaned at the sensual torture.  Steeling his nerve before he lost it completely, he pulled back and looked down at her.  "I’m serious," he said.  "What’s bothering you?"

She sighed and pursed her lips.  "You’re a killjoy, you know that," she lamented.

He took a deep breath and raked his gaze over her bare upper body, blatantly ogling her breasts.  He shifted, pressing his erection against her thigh.  "I’ll make it up later," he promised with a wicked grin.

She grinned like a cat in cream.  "I have every intention of holding you to that promise, Mr. Roarke," she said.

"And I have every intention of keeping it, Mrs. Roarke," he replied.  "It is, after all, our honeymoon.  It would be bad form not to do my husbandly duty by you."

She let out a bark of laughter and it was a sound of pure joy.  Quickly, she caught herself and clamped a hand over her mouth.  Quietly, she pushed herself up on her elbows as Angel did the same.  They both stared expectantly at the crib in the corner, waiting.

Apparently, Buffy’s laughter wasn’t enough to wake their four month old son, and they eventually relaxed again.  Angel crawled off Buffy, sprawling on his back before pulling his wife against his chest, kissing her soundly.  Angel eventually broke the kiss and pulled back far enough to look Buffy in the eye expectantly.

She sighed and folded her hands together on Angel’s chest, using them to support her chin as she looked at him.  "I’m just wondering what he’s going to think," she said.

"He?" Angel asked suspiciously.

Buffy gave her husband a withering glare.  "Your son," she said dryly.

"Oh," Angel said, chagrinned.  "About what?"

"Us."

Angel frowned.  "What about us?" he asked.  "I’m assuming he’ll think we’re his parents."

Buffy sighed.  "That’s not what I mean," she said, searching for the words.  "I wonder what he’s going to think about our relationship, our past.  We weren’t exactly low key, Angel.  Our less savory incidents made it into the gossip columns and what didn’t is openly speculated on by half of the city."

"You’re exaggerating," Angel said wryly, "in L.A. people are too self-obsessed to spend their time worrying about us."

Buffy smiled at him, but it was tinged with sadness.  "I may be exaggerating," she said, "but not by much.  It will be an issue.  The Roarke name comes with money and power and privilege, but it also comes with scrutiny and gossip.  People are going to talk and Liam is going to hear a lot of rumors.  Problem is that the lies are probably going to be tamer than the truth."

With a sigh, Angel rolled onto his side and pulled Buffy into his arms.  They stared at each other, their heads inches apart on the pillow.  "We are who we are, Buffy," Angel said seriously.  "The fact that we’re now happily married with a child doesn’t mean that we didn’t have a horror filled past.  I would rather that Liam know the truth – though not until he’s *much* older – than have him think that everything is sunshine and roses.  We both made mistakes, we both did some really stupid stuff, but we got through it."

Smiling, Buffy pressed her palm to the side of his face, running her thumb along his cheekbone.  "Yeah," she said, "we got through it."

"And now we’re together," he said.  "We’re older and wiser and more humble.  We’ve learned from our mistakes.  We’ve figured out what’s important.  We’re together because we love each other and because it feels right, not because it was expected or convenient or because we have a baby."

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long time.  "I do love you," Buffy said.

"I love you too," he replied, pulling her closer.  He kissed her deeply.  "It seems that I have a promise," to keep, he whispered against her lips, pulling her body under his.

"You most certainly do," she replied with a wicked grin.

Buffy watched the tension in Angel’s broad shoulders as he stared out the bay window that overlooked the large backyard.  Cautiously, she approached him and wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against his back as fully as her distended belly would allow.

Angel hugged her arms.  "You feeling okay?" he asked.

"I’m fine," she answered.  "I was wondering about you."

Angel unwrapped her arms and pulled her around so she could look out the window with him.  Holtz was playing in the sandbox with their three year old son.  The pair were obviously enjoying themselves immensely as they did every Sunday afternoon.

"Liam is fine with him, Angel," Buffy said gently.  Several years ago, she might not have been such a blind supporter of Angel’s father, but the man had shown he was committed to being a positive part of his grandson’s life.  He spent time with Liam – and Angel – any chance he got, though Liam was much more receptive to the attention than his father.

Taking a deep breath, Angel let it out slowly.  "I know," he said ruefully.  "I still just have a hard time trusting him."

"He’s doing his best to make amends," Buffy said.  "He loves you and he loves Liam."

Angel nodded and hugged his wife more tightly.  Buffy rested her head against his chest.  She knew that things were a thousand times better between Holtz and Angel than they had ever been, but they still had a long way to go.  Odds were the damage Holtz had wrought would never be fully mended, but they were both still trying and that was the important part.

Angel sighed heavily and seemed to shake off his melancholy mood.  "When do Willow and Xander get here?" he asked.

Buffy looked at her watch.  "About twenty minutes," she said.  "Molly had her dance class this morning."

"Dance class?" Angel asked warily.  "She’s two."

"Oh just wait, daddy," Buffy said mischievously.  "You think Molly’s spoiled rotten, just wait to see what your father does for our little princess."

Angel smiled wryly at his wife and placed his hand over her belly.  Their daughter kicked.  "She’s gonna be a hellion," he said with a blinding grin.

 

The End

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