*****

Her eyes flashed open, going past the woman holding the gun to the owner of the voice. His deep brown eyes, that were always filled with a heavy sadness caught her own, and he spoke her name again, as if he was certain now that it was truly her.

"Angel? Kate? What's going on?" another woman's voice asked, this one the familiar voice of the girl she'd gone to school with, the voice heard on movie screens worldwide. Cordelia appeared then, her arm around a lagging Doyle. "Oh my God. Buffy?"

Buffy was torn between two instincts. One was to run into Angel's arms and never let go or to disappear back down into the sewers. But she needed that dagger, and as much as she hated to admit it, she might need Angel as well. So she ignored both, and stood where she was, her arms coming up to hug her body as the blonde woman lowered and holstered the gun, and stepped back, throwing curious looks at all in the room.

"Is it really you?" his voice was raw with emotion.

She nodded slowly. Avoiding his gaze. She'd lied to him, and everybody for so long.

"How?"

She hesitated. She didn't have time for explanations, and those would just lead to Erinne. "Not important," she said softly. Her chin lifted slightly, and she finally met his gaze again. "I-I need your help, Angel. That dagger you bought today, I need it."

He seemed surprised by her words. "For what?"

"My...oh god!" Buffy's thin control on her emotions suddenly broke, and she burst into tears, and he was across the room in seconds, holding her in the embrace that she had not forgotten. Her tears just fell harder, wetting the dark sweater that was soft against her cheek, as his arms pressed her body into his, his cheek leaning against the top of her head, as soft words meant to soothe were whispered. The tears fell harder, for the first time in years, she allowed herself to cry, and the sobs wracked her body, and she leaned into him for support.

When her sobs grew quiet, she barely realized that he was leading her across the room to the bed, helping her to sit. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, she realized that he was kneeling in front of her, sitting back on his heels as he bent down to look her in the eyes, his hands cool around hers on her lap. "Buffy, what's wrong?"

"Oh God, Angel," her words were low. "My daughter has been kidnapped, along with a good friend."

She didn't miss the looks of shock and pain that passed across his face, to replaced by somber understanding and sympathy. "Your daughter?"

"Erinne Mari. I need that dagger Angel. I don't know how they found about me, and where my daughter was, but they have both her and Phoebe." Her slim hands came to her cheeks, hastily wiping away the tears still clinging to her cheeks and lashes. "What's so important about that dagger that they'd put my baby in danger?"

"Its called the Dagger of Illyia. It has been thought lost for centuries. It supposedly gives the holder great power." Angel looked at her, a large hand reaching up to cup her cheek. "It can't be given to who ever has your daughter, but I'm going to help you get her back. I promise."

Buffy leaned into the palm of his hand, eyes closing in relief. "Thank you. She's my life, I don't know how I'd live without her."

"You're not going to find out. Now, can you tell me what happened?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Good." She frowned as he stood, his cool hand moving out of contact with her warm cheek. Ignoring her common sense, she reached out, tucking her hand in his. His head turned quickly to look down at her, and he gave her that sexy half-smile as she smiled shyly up at him. "Cordy?"

"On it," replied the actress, emerging from the kitchen with a coffee pot and cups on a tray. Doyle and the blonde woman followed behind her. The three sat down on the couch, the tray out in front of them. Buffy moved to sit in the chair, as Angel disappeared into the kitchen, appearing a few moments later carrying a chair.

There was an awkward pause, in which Buffy fiddled with the rings on her fingers, trying to decide where to start, when Cordelia spoke. "Not that I'm not happy that you're here and not dead, but isn't there a new Slayer?"

"Yes, there is. Last I heard she was in New York. She's quite good. She's the second I believe since I was retired 3 years ago."

"You were retired?" asked Doyle, surprise affecting his accent. "That's only happened...never."

"I know. Slayers don't have a very long life span. I almost wasn't informed of the change; luckily, a more sympathetic member of the Council came to tell me. I still don't know how she found me, but I was happy. Trying to work 2 jobs, even if they do have flexible schedules, raise a two year old and go out slaying was tiring. I still patrol occasionally, but not like when I was younger." Buffy paused and threw a look at the unfamiliar woman. "I'm sorry; do I know you?"

"Buffy, Kate. Kate, Buffy," said Angel. "Go on."

"Where was I? Oh yea. Getting as to why I'm in L.A. I guess. Well, I free-lance as a weaponry appraiser. That's what basically brought me here. I left Erinne with three of my friends in San Fran., they're sisters, witches as a matter of fact..."

"The Charmed Ones?" asked Doyle suddenly.

Buffy's look was sharp. "How did you know? Nevermind, I don't think I want to know." She took a breath. "Anyway, I'd also heard about some things going on down here, so I took the job for the Connelly House. I usually don't leave home, but Erinne has her dance classes and I wanted to take her to DisneyWorld for her birthday, the money would have helped. I got here 5 nights ago. I was going to go home after the auction this morning. But I wanted to get some things for every one at home, so I got back to the hotel late.

"I'd just walked in when Pru called, saying that the house had been broken into by someone not human, and that Erinne and Phoebe were gone. A note was left demanding the dagger, tomorrow night at the docks. I knew you had bought the dagger, so I decided to try and take it."

"Buffy, why didn't you just come to me in the first place, asking for it. If I could have, I would have."

"I know Angel, its just, I haven't spoken to anyone since I left 5 years ago. I knew everyone thought I was dead, and in a way, that's kind of how I wanted to keep it. Less questions, less pain."

"I don't get it," said Cordelia. "Why did you leave? I mean, you were the big shot on the Hellmouth. In college, partying it up. Why leave to have to face work and bills...and life...and I'm speaking from experience here."

"I didn't exactly leave with nothing Cordy. My dad had died and had left me enough money to buy a house and live on until I found a job. As for why...it's a little more complicated than you'd think."

"Explain, please. Willow told me that you said you were tired of pretending." His voice was anguished. "I didn't want that for you Buffy. I left so that you could be happy. Have a normal life. I thought you'd found that."

"I know, Angel. At the time you made a decision that you thought was best for me. You do that a lot for me. Every one seemed to at the time. Mom wanted me to be a normal daughter. Giles wanted me to be more on my own. Willow was so busy trying to fix me up with guys, she never noticed that it was never what I wanted. So I did what they wanted me to. It was easier than trying to tell them differently. I dated Riley because he was what Willow thought was perfect for me, human, who fought the monsters of the night. I pretended that I was happy."

"I lived like that for 5 months. Meanwhile, I was slowly dying. Do you know, Riley actually thought 17 demons and vampires was a crowning achievement? I thought about leaving so many times. Then, I found out that I was pregant, and knew then that I wasn't going to stay longer than I had to. Faith was there, and seemed to be doing well so I left. I found that normal life you wanted me to have, in Erinne. I probably would have died if it hadn't been for her. I've lived for her since I found out. If I lose her..."

"I told you we'd get her back. We will."

"I know we will." Buffy yawned suddenly, and her hand covered her mouth apologetically. "Excuse me. I'd better go."

"You'd better stay here, just in case," said Angel, surprising both her and himself.

"Um, all right. I have a bag in the car I keep for emergencies. I'll go get it." She got up to leave, but Angel placed a gentle, but firm hand on her shoulder.

"I'll get it for you."

"Oh. Okay." Digging in her back pocket, she pulled out a set of keys, hanging from a "World's Greatest Mom" keychain. "Its the. . ."

"Silver sport utility?" Buffy nodded, dumbfounded. "I've seen it a few times in the past couple days. I'll be right back...I'll walk you guys out."

*****

"That was Buffy?" asked Kate, upstairs in the office as the four walked to the door.

"That was our Buffy," replied Cordelia.

"She's younger than I thought she'd be," replied the cop, a small frown on her face.

"She's twenty four, Kate," said Doyle. "And she's not that young. She's fought many a demon, now she has a child, one that we might need your help with, I might add."

"She's kept the stress off," commented Cordelia. "She looks good for everything she's been through."

By this time they'd reached the night air. The stood for a moment by the 2 cars parked along the curb, Cordy and Doyle's red Beamer, and Kate's more sensible Camry. "Can you be here tomorrow morning?" Cordelia and Doyle's nods were instantaneous. "Kate?"

"I'll be here," she replied, as she opened her car door and got in.

As soon as her engine had started, Cordelia turned a thoughtful look to her sometime boss. "You going to be all right Angel?"

His nod was slow in coming. "I think so. Its a lot to take in."

"Yea, your old girlfriend coming back from the dead could be a big blow to your senses. Be careful man."

"Thanks Doyle."

Cordelia stepped up, and hugged him, her soft perfume flooding his senses. "Its going to work out Angel. We'll see you in the morning."

"Night." Angel stood, unconciously playing with Buffy's keys as the two drove off. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he crossed the street, opening the back door of the 5 year old vehicle. The interior was clean and well cared for, the carpet strewn with a few children's picture books and toys scattered on the seat beside a booster car seat. Searching for a few minutes, he spotted a full black duffelbag stuffed under one of the seats.

Grabbing it, he made sure to lock the doors before heading back into the building, locking up the office before heading to the elevator. Stepping inside, he took an unneeded breath, calming himself. The knowledge that Buffy was alive, and in his apartment, was heady stuff, but heartbreaking.

All he'd wanted for her was a normal life. He had wished for her the full college experience, friends, and no matter how much his heart seized at the idea, boyfriends who could love her like she deserved. He'd also wanted her to have every thing that came after that, a husband, kids, sunlight. But fate had taken that away from her once again. She'd left school, her friends, everything that was familiar to her, and had been raising a child. She never had said who the father was....

All thought flew from his mind as he came upon her in the kitchen, wearing the same black silk pajama top that she'd worn on the day that only he remembered. The material flowed to her bare knees, making her look young and vulnerable. Memories rushed back at him. That one day had both haunted and comforted him over the years. To know that he had brought her happiness. He realized that she was just standing there, staring at the kitchen table a curious expression on her face. "Are you all right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I just kinda thought that after 6 years you would have replaced the table."

"Cordy said I should have, but my memories are sorta attached....wait a minute, you were never down here."

She looked up at him then, a sorrowful laughter shining in her eyes. "Weren't you the only person that was supposed to remember?"

"Wait a minute. You remember?" Her bag dropped from his hands, falling harmlessly to the floor.

"I promised I wouldn't forget, remember?" she said softly. "It took me a few months to figure it out, but I did. I'm sorry you had to go so long thinking you were the only one that knew."

"You didn't even let me know."

"My life was taking a weird turn when I found out Angel." Her voice had a wry humor to it. "I had a lot to try and figure out."

"You hurt a lot of people when you didn't let them know where you were."

She held up a hand at him, and he stopped whatever else he had been about to say. "Save the accusations Angel. I've given them to myself enough over the years. Every time that something big happened in my life, I barely stopped myself from calling to them that Erinne had taken her first step, or said her first word."

"Do you know what's gone on in Sunnydale since you left?" Angel asked, pulling out a kitchen seat holding it out for her to sit in, then taking one across from her.

"Faith tells me every so often when she calls. I was there for all the weddings, even if they didn't know I was."

"I didn't want this kind of life for you."

"I know you didn't. But this is the kind of life I got. I've made my decisions, but there's few that I would ever change."

"Buffy." Angel reached across the table then, taking one of her hands in his, gently caressing the back of it with the pad of his thumb. "I want you to know that even if I might not agree, I love you, and I'm proud..."

"Don't." Her hushed voice was strange to him, and he was surprised as she pulled her hand away. Standing up suddenly, backing away from him. "Don't Angel. Please."

"Don't what?" His voice conveyed his confusion as his eyes attempted to search hers. But for the first time, she wouldn't allow him to read what they might say. "I'm just amazed that...."

She interrupted him again, her voice wavering. "Angel. Please. I've told you as much as I can right now. And what I haven't, I'm not sure you'd feel the same. Good night Angel."

Dumbfounded, he watched as she turned and fled from the kitchen. He sat back down in the chair that he had vacated when she had begun to back away. What was so terrible that it would change the way he felt about her? Dimly he heard the coverlet on his bed shift, and the settling of the mattress as she slipped between the sheets. Sighing, he moved to the refridgerator, and taking a wine bottle filled with something *other* than wine, he headed to the bathroom.

*****

Buffy stepped out of the bathroom the next morning, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the water. She was grateful for her years as a Slayer and as a mom, having made herself pack a bag of extra clothes to stow in the car. Though she'd almost lost it when she'd brought out Erinne's tiny pants. But she'd resolutely stuffed them back in, pulling out her own clothes, consisting of comfortable jeans and a white long sleeve tee. She was just finishing off the end of her French braid, when she came upon two dark haired girls sitting on the couch, Angel standing across from them. "Pru! Piper!"

Both jumped up and ran to her, embracing her alternatively. "Buffy, I'm so sorry," apologized Piper. "They needed some help at P3. If I'd been there..."

"You would have probably been taken too," replied Buffy calmly. "Its all right Piper. Its not your fault. It isn't yours either Pru."

Pru nodded solemnly. "What's the plan? Did you get that dagger?"

"You guys met Angel I guess. He owns the dagger. Only a slight problem. Its really not something we want to give to anyone who kidnaps little girls." Buffy looked across the room at Angel. "Have the others shown?"

"Upstairs. Research. Reconn?" He asked simply.

Buffy nodded, finding it strange how easy it was to fall back into the role of Slayer and team leader. She decided to analyze that bit of info later, when her daughter was back safe. "Reconn. Its supposed to be at the docks tonight at 10. I figure they're holed up in a warehouse nearby. Cordy, Doyle, Kate, and Pru," Buffy paused, looking at the witch for confirmation, which was given with a terse nod, "should go and check it out. Split it up into two. Me, you, and Piper will do the underground thing. Sound good?"

"I'll let the gang know. Meet back here in 3 hours?"

"Three hours. No more, no less."

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