All words stuck in her throat, all thought, all being, stopping for the moment. "When?" Buffy whispered, not wanting to hear the answer. This wasn't supposed to end, not like this, not ever.

Angel looked beyond her, to the clock on the wall. His blood -- his mortal blood -- ran cold. "Another minute."

"A minute?" Oh, God. She didn't want to let him go. Please, God, don't do this to me, she prayed. "No. No, it's not enough time!" Buffy told him, her voice hoarse with tears just beginning to slip down her cheeks.

"We don't have a choice. It's done." He seemed so stoic. But seeing Buffy, so soft and sweet and beautiful...her heart breaking in her eyes, made his entire body clench. He'd only done what he had to do, Angel told himself. This was the only way he could protect Buffy. If anything ever happened to her...

"How am I supposed to go on with my life knowing what we had? What we could have had?" She couldn't breathe. With everything that had happened in her life, why this? Why now? No, she couldn't live with knowing what they'd shared. The loss would kill her. She'd only just begun to sleep peacefully through the night, not plagued by hazy images of Angel gazing at her from across the infinite distance.

"You won't. No one will know but me." And he'd gladly take on that burden for her. Couldn't Buffy understand? He could continue on, living the life he'd been making for himself, if he knew that wherever she was, she was alive and well. What he couldn't live with was the chance that if she ever needed him one day, he wouldn't be able to save her. Without Buffy...what was he fighting for?

"Everything we did -" she started.

"It never happened," Angel finished. How he sounded so matter-of-fact, so controlled, he'd never know. Looking into those luminous eyes, he felt as if his life was being ripped from him again. And wasn't it? But he had so much more at stake this time around.

Buffy shook her head emphatically. "It did. It did. I know it did!" She was pleading with him, begging him to say something, anything, to take back what he'd done. Her hand found its way to his chest, to his heart, and Buffy looked up at him imploringly. "I felt your heart beat."

"Buffy..." He couldn't finish it. Her touch, her words, her tears...she was overpowering. Wrapping his arms around her, they moved together naturally, their mouths claiming each others with no small amount of desperation.

For a moment it seemed like time had stopped for them, allowing their few stolen seconds to be a blissful eternity, but as the kiss broke and Buffy glanced back at the clock, Father Time seemed to be making up for his parting gift.

"No!" Buffy gasped, her sobs wracking her slight form. "Oh God," she cried, "It's not enough time."

He could no longer stand the terror, the pain, the anguish in his love's gaze. He felt the tickling sensation of the wetness on his cheeks before he ever realized he was crying also. "Shh, please. Please," Angel prayed. He had to be strong for her. He gathered her to him once more, their tears mingling as they clung to each other for dear life...for the love that was slipping away from them as surely as time passed. "Please, please..." he murmured against the golden strands of her hair. Oh, God, her smell was tormenting him.

Holding him close, Buffy shook her head. "No." She pressed closer, close enough to feel his heartbeat against hers. "I'll never forget. I'll never forget. I'll never forget. I'll never forget..."

Well I just heard the news today
It seems my life is going to change
I close my eyes, begin to pray
Then tears of joy stream down my face

The doors chimed as Angel strolled into Angel Investigations, revamped and renovated since they'd found a new building. As he crossed the waiting room to Cordelia's desk, he picked up the mail in his In Box and riffled through the envelopes. Bills, bills and more bills. Leading the life of an upstanding citizen of the community wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Walking to his office, Angel noticed that the business seemed unusually quiet and vacant. His hand on the doorknob, he changed his mind and knocked on Wesley's door, which was right across the hall. "Wesley? May I come in?"

Just as he was about to open the door, it swept open, revealing a quite disheveled Englishman. "Angel, ah, so very good to see you. I was just thinking that I wanted to ask you a few questions about that La'hasiendra case from last week." Ushering the vampire from the hallway, Wesley shut the door securely before following Angel into the lobby.

"You look like crap, Wes. What's going on? Where's Cordelia? Were you two...?" He let the question hang as Wesley's cheeks turned bright red. The younger man did indeed look frazzled. His hair was unkempt -- he'd obviously been running his fingers through it, his glasses were askew and his clothes were distinctly rumpled. Either there had been something going on in that office, or Wesley was extremely stressed out.

"No! Good Lord, man, I would never take advantage of Cordelia."

"You're right," Angel said, turning his attention back to the mail. "I imagine she could do some real damage if you tried. So, what is going on? Where is she?"

"Okay!" the object of their conversation breathed loudly as she opened the door of Wesley's office. Looking down at the notes in her hand, she didn't see his frantic motions. "I finally got it out of Willow. Can you imagine Little Miss Witch being so strung out? I tried to tell her it wasn't good for Buffy to see her like that, but I don't think she was listening. And that Anya. Problems much? I mean, how long does it actually take for someone to conform to society? Being an ex-vengeance demon -- overrated, if you ask me. So, Buffy -"

"Cordelia -" Wesley tried to interrupt. Angel shot him a suspicious look that would have quelled his attempts, even if Cordy had been paying any attention to him at all.

" - was admitted about three hours ago. From what Willow said, I gather it's not a pretty picture. Sweaty and red and...fat. God, I remember *that* feeling." With a delicate shudder, she flipped the page and continued. "So, I figure if we leave now, we can get to the hospital in about -"

To that point, Angel had been listening in idle amusement, lost to whatever Cordelia was blabbering about. But the moment she uttered the word "hospital", everything faded away. Without realizing it, he'd stalked across the room and was gripping his friend tightly, panic setting in. "Buffy's in the hospital." It wasn't a question. At this point, he just wanted a confirmation and he'd be out of the office and on his way to Sunnydale.

"Angel!" Cordelia shrieked, sending Wesley a glare. He shrugged his shoulders in answer, after all, he'd *tried* to tell her Angel was there. "I...you...it's not what you think, Angel," Cordelia said slowly.

"What *exactly* is it, Cordelia?" Angel bit out. If Buffy was in trouble, he needed to be with her.

Another glance passed between Wesley and Cordelia and Angel shook her arm.

"Buffy's not hurt," she assured him. "Well, not yet. Though I imagine -"

"Cordelia..." he murmured warningly.

"Okay, okay. Geez. You'd think I'd get some respect for taking down your sordid messages." Yanking out of his grasp, she rubbed her arm sullenly. "Buffy's not hurt. She's just...in labor."

Angel's face went slack as he looked down at her uncomprehendingly. Labor? As in work? No. His mind struggled to process the information. Buffy...in labor? Buffy...pregnant? No. No! He wanted to shout his denial from the rooftop and howl in rage. She wasn't supposed to be pregnant. She wasn't...

But she was. And it was what he'd wanted for her. What he'd pushed her towards. But it wasn't right. In his heart, he'd always known that she was his; Buffy belonged to him. Angel wanted her happiness, and Buffy being happy meant Buffy leading a normal life. And a normal life was something he couldn't give her...including children.

That acknowledgment tore at his heart. He'd wanted that for her -- for them. He'd wanted the family, the home, the love. He'd wanted to be the father of her children...his so-called prophesied destiny had been the key to that. Or so he'd hoped. But now...

No, it just couldn't be. They were *meant* for each other. His mind rebelled at the thought of Buffy bearing Riley's...or even that other idiot -- Parker's...child.

And then, in a flash of sudden clarity, it all made sense.

"You are wrong. This one is willing to sacrifice every drop of human happiness and love he has ever known for another. He is not a lower being."

The Oracles must have known... Every drop of human happiness...had they been hinting at something larger that he could not have begun to imagine? Had he sacrificed knowing his own...? The thought was too much to bear. All Angel knew was that he had to go to Buffy.

With arms wide open
Under the sunlight
Welcome to this place
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open

"OH GOD!" Buffy screamed. The contractions were coming closer and closer. Why couldn't they just give her drugs? Drugs. Drugs! She wanted drugs! Now!

"It's okay, Buffy. You're doing great," Willow encouraged, smoothing Buffy's hair back from her face. She looked down at her best friend and cringed. Buffy's blond locks were soaked with sweat and her face was red with exertion and pain. All of a sudden, the pregnancy the Scooby Gang had been pondering for the past eight and a half months was becoming all too real. She admitted to herself that somewhere, deep in the back resources of her mind, she'd been wondering if this was just some sort of Hellmouth fluke. But it wasn't.

"Don't tell me I'm doing great. God! Just give me a knife and I'll cut this thing out of me myself!" Tears of frustration and pain streamed down her cheeks. It hurt so badly. Couldn't any of them understand that? The contraction passed and Buffy melted back into the bed. "Willow. Willow, I want you to do something for me."

"Anything," the witch said without hesitation.

"I...I want you to go back to my house, okay? I want you to go and get my bag -"

"Don't worry, Buffy. We've got everything covered. Xander brought your change of clothes, and the receiving blanket -"

"You. Don't. Under. Stand," Buffy ground out. Her grasp on Willow's hand tightened with a new wave of pain and the redhead yelped. Her eyes flew beseechingly to the others who stood around the hospital bed.

"Get her off of me," she cried when her fingers threatened to snap.

"Buffster, come on," Xander joined, prying Buffy's hand from around Willow's. "What is it that you need?"

Joyce and Giles stood on the other side of the bed, the older woman glaring at Riley, who was located at the foot -- looking for all intents and purposes as if he were going to faint. He was the number one suspect, in her opinion. He was the one who had put her baby in this position of having a...baby.

"What do you need, honey?" Joyce crooned now.

Biting her lip, Buffy rode the pain out. "I want...my equipment. I want my stakes. And crosses. Lots of crosses. And my crossbow. Oooh, and Holy water." She voiced her request as if it were any normal craving.

"Ahh, Buffy, I do hope you aren't planning to go on patrol, given your, ah, condition. Spike has everything under control. In as much as Spike can, that is."

Buffy was already shaking her head. "Nooo. I want a stake. I want a stake so I can shove it through his everlasting SOUL!" Fingers tightening in the sheets, her voice became shrill towards the end.

Riley gulped and looked from one side of the bed to the other. It didn't seem, however, as if he'd find protection from either of those corners. He and Buffy had grown apart during the last few months, and he didn't blame them. "I think I'll just...go get her some more ice." With that, he excused himself from the room, moving aside as the doctor entered.

"Well, what have we here?" the middle-aged doctor asked as he glanced over Buffy's charts.

"I've got a toothache. What the hell does it look like?!?! I've got a freaking watermelon busting out of me!"

"I take it she opted to forego the epidural?" the doctor asked of no one in particular. Pulling up a stool, he lifted the hem of her gown, causing Xander and Giles to suddenly find the walls fascinating. "From your charts, it looks like you've been in labor for quite a while now. I'm glad they situated you in a room, Buffy. However, by the looks of things, I'd say we should probably get you down to the delivery room. Baby Summers will be coming any moment now. So, I'll have the nurse come wheel you downstairs and you'll be a mother in no time. How does that sound?"

It was on the tip of Buffy's tongue to tell him *exactly* how it sounded, but at the mention of being a mother, the pain seemed to subside. She was going to be a mother. It was an amazing feeling.

Taking her silence as a good sign, the doctor nodded and left the room.

"Do you want one of us to go with you, honey?" Joyce asked, taking her daughter's hand. "I'll be right there with you, every step of the way."

Buffy shook her head. "No, Mom. But thanks. I just...I can do this. I can." The tears that rose to her eyes weren't of pain or anguish, but of the absolute certainty that this was what she wanted. For the first few weeks after she'd discovered she was pregnant, Buffy had been scared. She didn't know what to do. You only saw these types of things on lame prime-time teen shows. It wasn't a reality. She hadn't wanted to tell her friends...or her mother. She knew, of course, that it couldn't be Riley's child. That had left her only option as Parker. For a while that had killed her. For a while... But her "family" had been more supportive than she could ever have imagined. And with time, Buffy had grown used to the idea of being a mother. Although she'd been staying with her own mother, they had an apartment all ready for her, complete with a newly decorated nursery.

Two nurses entered, annoyingly chipper, but Buffy didn't let that get to her. With a slight wave, she let them wheel her out of the room, down the hall, to the elevator.

"Will your husband be with you in the delivery room?" one asked.

Husband. That left a bitter taste in her mouth. Why did everyone assume she had to be married to have a child? Why did they all assume her child had a father? Well, that was a dumb question. What was she, the Virgin Buffy? Not exactly. "I'm not married," she murmured demurely -- no small feat, given her current disposition. "But no, the father won't be with me."

She heard the sympathetic twitters, but paid no attention. Blocking any other attempts at conversation, Buffy remained silent until they got to the delivery room and another contraction seized her. Her grasp tightened on the arms of the wheelchair and she bent the metal slightly. Fortunately, no one noticed as they helped her into the stirrups. Oh, what fun, she thought. As if all of those trips to the OB/GYN in the last months hadn't been humiliating enough.

"Okay, Buffy," the doctor said as he entered, decked out in full-scrubs regalia. "We're gonna do this. Feeling up to it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

He grinned and took another look at her. "Well, Baby Summers seems to be impatient now. When I tell you, I want you to give me a good push. Can you do that for me, Buffy? But not until then, okay?"

Buffy nodded and tried to squelch the urge she did have to push. No matter how much she loved this child, she just wanted it out of her.

"When I count to ten, I want you to -"

"Am I too late?" The doors swung open and all attention turned to the newcomer.

"Sir, you can't be here. I'm afraid -"

"Buffy?"

"Angel?" Buffy gasped. She looked from the doctor to Angel and back again. God, why did he always have to arrive at the most inopportune times? Or was that the most opportune times?

"Sir, you can't be in here," the nurse said firmly, pushing him out of the room.

In that split second, Buffy made up her mind. "No. Please. I want him here. He...he's the father." She didn't know if it was just her, but the entire room seemed to go silent, and the world faded away. She wasn't even aware as the nurses shoved him into his own pair of sanitary scrubs and the doctor began counting. All she saw was his eyes, those deep, dark, soulful brown eyes that never failed to see right through her.

His hand enveloped hers tenderly. "Buffy," she heard him breathe.

Well I don't know if I'm ready
To be the man I have to be
I'll take a breath, take her by my side
We stand in awe, we've created life

"Angel, I..."

"Shhh," he whispered, kissing her temple. "I know."

Her eyes were wide, full of love and pain and a fervor that shook him to his core. "I didn't forget. I didn't forget."

"Ten! Now give me a good push, Buffy. Push!"

Buffy stared into her lover's eyes and he nodded encouragingly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Holding onto him, past her fears, Buffy bore down, willing her...their...child to be born. She barely heard the doctor and nurses conversing, something about crowning and a head. She just kept her gaze trained on Angel, on the love and awe she saw shining in those golden depths. It filled her heart and soul, like nothing else ever could.

The pushing and pausing seemed to last an eternity. Buffy felt more drained than she'd ever felt, including the time Giles had kept her drugged. There was pain -- blinding pain. There were tears -- so much that she couldn't see straight. And there was so much happiness, Buffy thought she'd died. This was the way it was meant to be...well, she was used to the gut-wrenching pain when Angel was around. But he was here...with her...with their child.

"Just one more hard push, Buffy. You can do it. I know you're tired, but you're almost done."

"You're so beautiful," Angel told her. "You're so brave. You can do this. I love you so much, Buffy. I love you..."

Taking strength from his words, Buffy bit down on her lip until she tasted blood, but she pushed with all of her might. It felt like she was being ripped apart, but soon she heard the distinct sound of a loud wail, and she laughed. Opening her eyes, she glanced to Angel, knowing that the look of amazement on his face was mirrored on her own.

"Congratulations," the doctor said, standing with the squalling bundle in his hands. "You have a son. Would you like to cut the cord, Mr...Summers?"

Angel looked uncertainly at Buffy, but she nodded serenely. She wanted him to be a part of this. Needed him to be a part of this. She watched as he performed the duty, fear evident in his every movement. The way he looked at their son -- with such reverence -- that endless well of love bubbled up and before she knew it, she was crying again.

"Oh, God, Buffy. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Buffy laughed and shook her head. "No," she whispered. He might leave her again. Leave them. But she'd have this, inside her heart, forever. "No, I'm just so happy. It seems so...unnatural."

"I am so proud of you," he whispered roughly, his hand cupping her cheek.

"Well, would our new mother like to hold her baby?" The nurse who'd inquired about her husband came forth with the gurgling baby, wrapped in soft blue, and offered the bundle to Buffy -- along with a glance at Angel and a secretive smile to Buffy. The younger girl couldn't help but return it as she held her child -- her and Angel's son -- in her arms for the very first time. Baby Summers quieted as his mother held him, and stared up at Buffy with wide, knowledgeable, golden brown eyes. Sniffling, Buffy smiled at Angel. "I'm not sure I'm ever going to get rid of these waterworks. He has your eyes." She turned to gaze back down at their son in awe. She touched his tiny fingers, his soft cheek, and shook her head. "He's so perfect, Angel. Thank you."

Something tightened inside of Angel's chest. Rarely had he ever seen Buffy in such a state of disarray. She wore no make-up. Her hair was dull and limp and caked with sweat. Her cheeks were red and covered with tears. And still, as he gazed upon his love and their child, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. "No," he said hoarsely. "Thank *you*."

Exhaustion was beginning to catch up with her, so Buffy brushed a light kiss over her baby's head and handed him back to the nurse.

"You get some rest, Miss Summers. We'll get Baby Summers cleaned up and you can see him again in a few hours. And we'll let your family and friends know."

Buffy nodded and turned her head to look at the man next to her. "You have to admit," she began slowly. "We've both done some pretty bad things. To each other, even. But if nothing else...he's one thing we did right."

Silence slipped between them as she closed her eyes, soothed by the way Angel wrapped his arms around her and rocked her.

Yes. This was one thing they'd done right.

With arms wide open
Under the sunlight
Welcome to this place
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open
Now everything has changed
I'll show you love
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open

Buffy didn't know how long it had been, but she'd never gotten that long nap the nurse promised her. It was now nine in the morning, and the last of her visitors had just left. It was just Baby Summers and his mother at the moment, though she'd requested the blinds be closed -- just in case.

"Hey you," she whispered as her son yawned and opened his eyes, blinking slowly as he gazed around the room. "We need to give you a name, don't we? Yes, we do. We do."

After talking to Wesley and Cordelia, Angel had gone to get some food for Buffy. She'd yet to rest or eat, and she had to be tired and weak. He didn't care if she was the Slayer; she wasn't invincible. As he moved to open the door, he heard her talking. Peeking in, he saw the tiny form in her arms, and smiled. Setting the tray down, he decided to watch and listen for a moment.

"How about...Jake? No? No. I don't think so either. Hmmm. Nicholas? No, that's too traditional. Sean? Sean Summers. Ehhh. You're right. It's not you. Well, I promise you, your father's children aside, I will definitely *not* be naming you Spike. How about..." She fell into thought, the child in her arms watching her curiously, as if she was the most fascinating thing he'd seen in his life. Well, maybe she was.

"I love you," she sighed. "There's so much I want to teach you, to show you. I can't wait to bring you to the beach, to see you go off for your first day of school, to see you get married." Buffy laughed slightly and wiped at her eyes. "But that will all come soon enough. You never know how fast time passes until you turn around...and it's gone. Right now, I just want to hold you. And don't you ever doubt that you're loved. You're my life now. I'll always love you with everything I have. And I'll always be here if you need me. Always."

Angel chose that moment to interrupt, some unbidden force urging him to. "How are you?" he asked, pulling over the bed tray to set the food up on. "You haven't gotten any rest yet, have you?"

"None," Buffy admitted, her heart leaping into her throat at the sight of him. He was just as beautiful as she remembered. And he was here. It hadn't been a dream. However...now she had to worry about when he would leave. But she wouldn't broach that yet. "What about you?"

"I'm okay," Angel told her. "Right now, I want you to eat and then rest, so you can build up your strength again."

She would have argued with him, if she wasn't so tired. "Will you hold him while I eat?" she asked.

That uncertainty was back, but Angel accepted the tiny body, cradling him tenderly in his strong arms. "He's so amazing."

"I know," Buffy said as she uncapped a bottle of apple juice and broke off a piece of banana. "He's going to be special." Angel glanced up sharply at that, but Buffy shrugged, knowing what was going through his mind. "I'm not saying he'll take after us. But he'll be different in his own way. I can feel it."

Angel nodded slowly, looking down at the baby in his arms. "I never thought I'd..."

"Neither did I."

Buffy watched Angel with their son. He really did need a name. She'd have to think on it. After she finished snacking, she settled back into the pillows and gazed at the two most important men in her life, her lids growing heavy. She'd never seen anything more beautiful.

If I had just one wish
Only one demand
I hope he's not like me
I hope he understands
That he can take this life
And hold it by the hand
And he can greet the world
With arms wide open

When Buffy stirred, the room was dark. Blinking a few times, she looked around, disoriented. Where was she? But then it all came rushing back to her. Where was everyone? Where... The questions drifted away as she spotted Angel in the corner of the room, next to a window with the blinds up, letting the moonlight slide into the room. He was mumbling something. Was he asleep? But no. She recognized that mound in his arms and smiled. Her thoughts soothed, she strained to hear what he was saying.

"...Ireland. I will take you there one day. You'll love it. So will your mother. It's a land that's wild and free, lush and fertile...and beautiful, just like her. She's right, you know. You're going to be so special. You already are. You're a miracle, you know that? I'll love the both of you till my dying day, I promise you that. And I will never leave you."

Buffy swallowed past the lump in her throat as she tried to push off the bitter memories and feelings. Where had she heard that before?

"I want to teach you so many things. But don't ever...*ever*...be afraid of this life. You can...you will... do wonderful things. You'll be fearless, just like your mother. Be like her, ionúin, so brave and pure. Not like me. Your life will be so much better than mine. You'll be a better person than I am. I'll make sure of that. With so many possibilities...you can be anything you want to be. But don't fear life. Embrace it."

Buffy listened to Angel's fervent wishes, hot tears trickling from the corners of her eyes. Maybe she'd been right when she'd told him they'd never stop. But his words broke her heart. He was such a good man, a beautiful soul...their son would be lucky to be the noble, caring man his father had turned out to be. And she had no qualms with saying so.

"He will be a true man if he's anything like you, Angel."

If she startled him, he didn't let it show. "Now that's irony. I am anything but a man. You cannot wish our son to become this...thing...that I am."

"Maybe not," Buffy said, sitting up. Angel made a move to help her, but she waved him back down. "But we've both made our fair share of mistakes. I think the important thing is...we're atoning for them. You are the greatest man I've ever known, Angel. Nothing can change that. All we can do is pray that he doesn't make the same mistakes we did...and stand by him when he does stumble."

There was quiet in the darkness for a moment. "Which mistakes are you referring to?"

"I don't mean I fault you, Angel. I know...everything you've done, you've believed you had to do it. I've even come to admire that. These past few months...I've had a lot of time to do some deep thinking. And remembering. What you want for me, I can never have. But at least I can acknowledge the good intentions behind your actions. Every moment that I've lived with the memories of you -- those I was meant to have and those I was not -- has been painful. I just can't stop loving you. And you can't make me believe that not being with you is for the best. I can't have a normal relationship, Angel. Could you?" Buffy was just warming up. The glow of childbirth was retreating, as was the dull pain that seeped through her every muscle. Now, those old wounds were resurfacing, the anger and the frustration were coming back in waves -- or so she thought.

"I know, Buffy."

"And I don't think you even -" His words registered and Buffy halted in her tirade. "You know?"

"Yes. I know. When I heard you were having a baby...I was furious. Not at you, but at the way the fates, the Powers, could be so cruel. I tried to make myself believe that I wanted you to have a normal life, that I wanted the best for you. But I didn't. I'm as selfish now as I ever was when I was alive. You're mine, Buffy. You always have been. And the thought that some other man had stolen what should belong to me, had given you the child that should have been ours, enraged me. That scared me. Until I realized that...it was impossible. We've been through too much, Buffy. You and I...we fit. We're only whole when we're together. Yes, it can be a hindrance. But I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that *somehow* we'd created this life together. Knowing that...we're joined, Buffy. Now and forever. There's no going back this time. No leaving. No pretending that we can ignore what our hearts scream every time we're near each other. This...*he*...is a sign of something far greater than the two of us. He can't be denied."

"Angel," she whispered. Her heart was fluttering with hope, but she couldn't bear those hopes being dashed again. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, Buffy Summers, that this time it's forever. It's always been forever. But whatever comes, we'll face it together."

Buffy raised her arms to him, and Angel carefully rose with the sleeping bundle and sat on the edge of the bed, one arm drawing her close to him. The magnitude of it stunned him. He'd been right, it was a miracle. Holding those two lives in his arms, Angel was humbled. He'd been granted more redemption than he could ever have asked for. And if he was never granted humanity, he would always have this, in his heart, long after they passed.

He had a family.

Five years later

"Liam Donovan, you come here right this minute!"

"But Mommy," the dark haired, dark eyed five-year-old whined, "Auntie Willow's screaming at Daddy again and Uncle Spike won't come out of the house. He says he's 'lergic. Is he really 'lergic, Mommy? I don't think he is. I think he just gets a bad sunburn, like Auntie Willow does when she falls asleep out by the pool."

Buffy smiled indulgently as she bent down to straighten her son's bow tie. "Yes, honey. Uncle Spike really is allergic to sunlight. It's very rare, but...you're right. It causes a...bad...sunburn. Worse than Auntie Willow's."

"Wow." Liam's eyes grew as round as saucers. "Auntie Willow gets as red as a lobster."

She combed her fingers through his hair, more of a loving gesture than a necessity. "Yes," Buffy laughed. "Now, is your father ready? What was Willow yelling at him about this time?" she wondered aloud.

Liam straightened and focused his eyes on something in the distance. "'Don't you dare *think* about ruining this day for her! If you smash cake in her face, I'll...I'll...curse you!'" His impression of Willow caused Buffy to laugh so hard it brought tears to her eyes.

"Is that so?" she murmured. "Well, your daddy makes me nothing but happy. Nothing could ruin this day. Come here." She opened her arms wide and Liam flung himself into her embrace. "Have I told you today that I love you?" Buffy asked.

"Only about a million gazillion times, Mom." He rolled his eyes in that childishly tolerant way and Buffy smiled.

"Oh? Is that all? Well, good thing we still have all afternoon and all night. I'll have to catch up then. Now, go tell your father to hurry up. I'm ready to get this show on the road, and he knows how impatient I can be."

"Okay." Liam turned and scurried out of the small cathedral. Seconds later, the door opened and he peeked his head back in. "I love you too, Mommy!"

Buffy watched, tears rising to her eyes, as her son -- her and Angel's son -- left to go find his father. She'd been right, all those years ago. The tears hadn't ever stopped. Luckily, they were more happy than sad.

"Are you ready?" she heard a voice from behind.

"Oh, Will," she sighed. "I'm more than ready. I feel like I've been waiting for this for most of my life."

"You've been waiting long enough," Willow told her. "Here." She handed Buffy the bouquet of white roses. Straightening the train on Buffy's dress, Willow picked up her own bouquet and looked at her best friend. "Cordelia and Anya are already outside. Angel looks quite handsome, and you're absolutely radiant." She was so happy for her friend. After so many years of heartache, Buffy deserved this. As did Angel.

"Let's get this show on the road," Buffy said, letting Willow lead the way. Out of the church they processed, into the sunlight. A small village string quartet played a subdued, yet beautiful, rendition of the Wedding March as Buffy sauntered down the makeshift aisle of ivory lace and red rose petals, her gaze trained on the amazing man at the end of her journey. The world faded away, and there was only the two of them -- and the life they'd created. Their family. Small, but -- unknown to them -- soon to be increasing. They joined hands before their friends and family, and vowed to the world what they'd begun to pledge each other so many years ago, when he'd followed her into a dark alley and she'd knocked him off of his feet.

There, beneath the sunlight, on the wild and free coast of Ireland, they promised their lives to each other: to protect, to honor, to cherish, to love.

With arms wide open
Under the sunlight
Welcome to this place
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open
Now everything has changed
I'll show you love
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open
With arms wide open
I'll show you everything
Oh yeah
With arms wide open
Wide open

The End

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