Disclaimer: Buffy characters are not mine. Never have been, never will be
Spoilers: ZIlch. Completely AU.
Dedication: To Marieta, Michelle, and Kristen who keep me going with their kind emails. You guys rock.
Feedback: aurora2006us@yahoo.com NO FLAMES!

Summers and O'Connor.

The two most important Sunnydale families. Both were like royalty in the 'Dale. The Summers family patriarch, Hank, was a business magnate. Liam O' Connor the first, known fondly as Senior to those who knew him well, was a landholder and business owner. His great-grandfather had helped set up a studio in Hollywood nearly 75 years earlier. Each family had just one heir, just one child. Hank's daughter was his beloved Buffy Anne. Liam's son and namesake was Liam O'Connor II, heir to the eight-digit O'Connor fortune.

Hank Summers and Liam O'Connor had tried desperately to keep their children from ever interacting. They had come close during a music recital when Buffy and Liam were in fourth grade, but quick thinking by Liam Sr.'s assistant kept the two from ever seeing one another. The preventative actions were furthered when Senior enrolled Liam in Crawford Preparatory Academy. Senior wanted Liam to stay away from the Summers girl while getting a good education. And for nearly eighteen years, the actions of Hank and Liam Senior had succeeded.

But then again, eighteen was never really a lucky number, anyway.

*

Sunnydale High, constructed in 1931, was eight miles away from Crawford Prep. Crawford Pep was a breeding ground for many of Sunnydale's elite young males. The large, foreboding main building of Crawford Prep overlooked much of Sunnydale, including the public high school. A typical Crawford Prep student would rather be caught dead than set foot in the public school, so when the news was broken that one of the preppies would be joining the Razorbacks for the school year, a riot nearly broke out. When the transfer student was revealed as the darling son of Sunnydale, the Prince of Sunnyhell, Liam O'Connor II, there *was* a riot.

The first day of school had students sprawling all over the campus, running back and forth like ants. Late-applicant students and those requesting schedule changes were jam-packed into the main office. Liam O'Connor II, known to those at Crawford Prep as Angel because of his angelic face and his virtuous, almost holy reputation with the women he dated, was completely bewildered by the commotion. Crawford Prep had a relatively small enrollment number, around two hundred or so. So far that day, Angel had seen nearly a thousand students.

Somehow, the younger O'Connor had managed to blend in with the other students, and no one even suspected that the handsome senior in the black leather jacket was an heir to 17 million dollars.

Angel's interest peaked when he learned that Buffy Summers, the only daughter of his father's great enemy, attended Sunnydale High. Of course, he had no clue what Buffy looked like because he'd never seen her, and if Angel had seen Buffy, he wouldn't have known it. Already, he'd had various fantasy scenarios running through his mind when it was idle. Mostly, the scenarios came as Angel was lying in bed, imagining his first meeting with Buffy. He had almost convinced himself that Buffy was some kind of goddess, if not a goddess then some appalling snob with air for brains. Angel was hoping it was the former when it came to the youngest Summers.

"Hey, dude, get the hell out of my way!" shouted a voice from behind Angel, just as the voice's owner slammed into his shoulder.

"Fuck you," Angel snapped back, irritated by the hurried, rude student.

"I wouldn't talk like that to Larry if I were you," warned a voice from behind Angel and the infuriated student next to him. Angel turned to see a tall, bleach-blonde, Billy Idol knockoff standing in front of the school's sets of double doors.

The blonde pushed past Angel and looked up at the bulky young man wearing a Sunnydale t-shirt of gold and burgundy. The man started to talk to Larry whilst motioning to Angel. Angel was, in the mean time, scouring every face that went by. Maybe if he looked hard enough, he would see a girl and know that it was Buffy without even knowing it. Like a gut instinct.

"Eh, mate," said the blond as the meaty football played moved away from them. "Who are you?" He took Angel's look and spoke again as they began to walk. "I mean, I just saved your ass from getting stomped on by Larry, so I think I deserve an introduction."

"You really don't want to know," Angel replied, glancing at the student out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, you couldn't possibly be Liam O'Connor the second, cause he's too big of a flamer to set foot in this school. Even *if* the gel-wearing bastard did apply."

"Okay, I'm not Liam O'Connor the second, flamer and gel-wearing bastard," Angel replied with a voice that told the other student that was exactly who he happened to be.

The blonde stopped in mid-step and pulled Angel over to the wall. "You mean to tell me you're Liam O'Connor?" He asked this question in a snake-like hiss.

"Yeah. Who the hell are you?" Angel shot back, shoving Billy Idol's hands from his shoulders angrily and moving away from the Brit.

"My name is Spike. And you couldn't possibly be Liam. No fucking way! I figured you'd be wearing cardigans and plaid, wearing penny-loafers with a frigging'polo horse tattooed on your ass. Like Carlton, that bloke from the Fresh Prince."

Angel shrugged and looked at Spike. "Sorry to disappoint." The first bell rang. "I'll see you around." Spike nodded and turned in the opposite direction, his leather duster flapping behind him as it caught in the air.

The first three periods of the day went rather quickly. Lunch was something of a situation for Angel. He knew no one but the slightly intimidating but very unpleasant Spike, whom he wasn't exactly eager to dine with. He didn't know another soul in the building, and he was pretty sure Buffy Summers wouldn't come up to him at lunch with a wide smile asking to have sex with her in the faculty bathroom during sixth. Those who had found out who Angel actually was paid him no mind. Angel learned quickly that there were no ass-kissers at Sunnydale High, at least not the kind that went to Crawford Prep. Angel had been among the most popular boys at Crawford Prep because he was an O'Connor. His true friends, he supposed, were Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and Richard Penn, who went by Penn. Everyone else was just inconsequential.

Angel opened a submarine sandwich at his table and reached for a packet of mayonnaise. As his hand closed around it, he felt another hand on top of his. It was a large, brown, warm hand, belonging to a male. Angel slowly followed the arm of the man until he found arm's owner's face.

"Hi," Angel said uncomfortably.

"Hey." There was a pause. "You're O'Connor Junior, huh?" He took Angel's nod and waved another girl over, a girl who happened to look just like him. "This is my sister Allonna. Allonna, this is Liam O'Connor."

"Do you just go around introducing your sister to people you don't know?" Angel asked as the man and his sister took seats across from him. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking for an answer.

"Not usually. Charles Gunn's the name, but you can call me Gunn."

"Okay, Gunn." Angel returned to his sub and didn't really pay Gunn and Allonna much attention.

"You know," said Allonna as Angel ate, "we came to say hi. You were sitting here all depressed and I felt kinda bad for you. You could at least talk to us."

Angel looked up at Allonna, studying her for a minute. She had a kind face, dark brown eyes and dark brown skin. Her hair was pulled back into a bun with a pen running haphazardly through it. "I was under the assumption that you just wanted a place to sit."

Gunn laughed. "Man! If I wanted a place to sit, I'd be over there." He motioned to a large rectangular table full of students not too far away. "That's where the party's at. Instead, I'm over here with your quiet white ass, watching you eat."

Angel blushed and looked at the people sitting at the table Gunn mentioned. Inwardly, Angel wondered if any of them were Buffy. There was a redheaded girl and a boy with green hair and a pair of brunettes- one male, one female. There was a mousy brunette and Spike, the guy Angel had met in the hallway. Out of the corner of his eye, Angel spotted an impeccably dressed, petite blond girl make her way to the table with a diet Dr. Pepper in her hand.

"I'm sorry. I just don't know anybody," Angel admitted sheepishly. "You seem nice."

Allonna's dark eyes brightened and she said, "Since you don't know anyone, come with Gunn and me to the Bronze tonight. We can introduce you to our friends."

"What's the Bronze?"

"Local club," Gunn replied as he got up from the table. "We'll see you there, Junior. Be there at nine."

*

Angel stood outside of the Bronze. He'd known what it was before he'd come, but he'd never been inside. There was an unspoken code at Crawford Prep, and one of the laws was never to set foot in the Bronze. It wasn't classy enough for some of the patrons there.

It was five 'til nine. Angel was wearing pretty much the same outfit as he had worn that day at school, except he wore a shirt the color of red wine beneath his jacket. That day he had worn just a white Fruit of the Loom t-shirt. There was no band tonight, read the small chalkboard by the door, but there was a five-dollar cover. Angel reached into his wallet and paid the bouncer the door charge and entered the club.

Peering through the dark haziness of the interior, Angel spied Gunn and Allonna. He moved towards them, turning and shifting so he didn't run into people that were standing in his way. Allonna found him and waved him over, the drink in her hand sloshing in her neon green cup. Angel was beginning to seriously regret coming that night. He saw the various people sitting at the table with Allonna. Gunn was standing behind a girl's chair, his hand on her slim shoulder. Angel remembered the girl from the lunch table he'd seen at noon; she was the mousy, frail looking girl.

"Junior," said Gunn, looking up from his mousy girlfriend. "Glad to see you got the silver spoon out of your ass and decided to join the rest of society."

Having quickly grown accustomed Gunn's humor, Angel just smiled and said hello to him. Allonna, who was already intrigued with Angel, glanced up and smiled. Angel returned it with one of his own.

"Not that I really mind because you're hot and all, but who are you?" asked a beautiful brunette.

Angel noticed right away that the brunette was absolutely striking. "Liam O'Connor." He looked at the brunette's face, and then at the faces of the others at the table. They seemed shocked. "You can, uh, call me Angel. Everybody does."

The brunette's boyfriend, a tall, beefy boy with dark black hair, cracked a wide smile. "Angel? That's original. What are you, your mother's little angel?"

"Hey, Xander, leave him alone," insisted a redhead from across the table. She turned to look up at Angel and grinned. "I'm Willow Rosenberg. The guy who's really annoying and gets on my nerves sometimes is Xander Harris- my best friend. His girlfriend is Cordelia Chase." Willow turned to the boy sitting next to him. "And this is my boyfriend Daniel Osbourne."

"Call me Oz," insisted the green-haired boy, "everyone does."

"Has he met Buffy yet?" Willow asked. "They'd be so cute together. Not that I'm trying to set you up or anything, Angel."

Angel's eyes widened. He was sure they were about ready to pop out of his head. These people, some of the first people he'd met since starting at Sunnydale High, were friends with Buffy. Angel's tongue felt like lead. Finally, he was able to speak through the lead-and- sandpaper feeling of his mouth.

"Buffy. As in Buffy Summers?" Angel asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah," said Willow. "Oh, have you already met her?"

"No," Angel told them. He pointed to an empty chair and motioned as if to sit. Willow nodded him on. Angel sank into the chair and looked at Willow as if she were the only person at the table. His reason for this was the fact that no one else was really paying attention but Gunn, Allonna, and Gunn's mousy girlfriend who had yet to be introduced.

"Oh, no," said Angel. "I've never even seen her. See...our fathers are enemies. I mean, they really, really hate each other. For my entire life, my father has tried to keep me from seeing Buffy and vice-versa. But because I transferred to Sunnydale High, I have the chance to see her- and piss my father off royally."

"Father issues?" Gunn interjected.

"Yeah," Angel said. "He's a greedy, money-grubbing bastard. I hope he burns in hell." He shook off the shocked looks of his audience and continued on with the story. "Anyway, the O'Connors and the Summers' are never to meet. At least, Buffy and I aren't supposed to."

"Do you know why?" Willow asked.

"No clue," Angel said as he eyed the dance floor. "I'm going to go dance." He turned to Allonna. "You wanna dance with me, Allonna?"

Allonna just grinned and placed her hand in Angel's. They made their way out to the dance floor. It was a fast song, and Angel's wasn't exactly Fred Astaire. Allonna tried valiantly not to laugh at the rhythm-free boy, but all of her efforts were in vain when a large laugh escaped.

"It's not funny," Angel said, trying to keep the grin off of his face. "I know I'm a bad dancer, but I'm better at other things."

Allonna raised her eyebrows and wondered if he was trying to flirt with her, praying he wasn't being suggestive. "Like?"

"Cooking," Angel said. Allonna nearly sighed with relief.

"I'm like Elvis in the kitchen. And I'm not too bad at Tai Chi, either," added Angel.

Gunn and Willow watched the pair on the dance floor in silence. Gunn's girlfriend, a mousy brunette named Fred, had gone off with Oz, Xander, and Cordelia to get snacks for the group. That left Willow and Gunn nothing to do but watch the pair dancing.

"She likes him," Gunn said. "I can tell."

"I'm sensing a *but* here, Gunn," Willow said as she toyed with the purple napkin in her hand.

"But…he's got this thing for Buffy." Willow looked up at Gunn. "How can he have a thing for Buffy if he's never even met her?"

"That's just it. He's in love with the idea of her, the idea of being in love with his father's enemy's daughter. He's in love with someone he's never even seen."

"When did you get so wise, Charles Gunn?" asked Willow as Angel and Allonna left the dance floor.

"I dunno. Just don't tell people. It kinda ruins my street cred."

*

The night stretched on. It was almost ten-thirty and Buffy hadn't shown yet. Angel was growing antsy and anxious. Xander and Cordelia had gone home, and Angel couldn't say he was disappointed. Xander seemed like an asshole and Cordelia was a snob. Angel had done anything to fill the time. He'd danced with Fred, Willow, and Allonna. He'd gotten Gunn halfway onto the dance floor before he realized it was Gunn and not Allonna. He'd downed a number of Cokes and been to the bathroom several times.

"I should go," Angel told his friends. "It's getting kinda late and we have school tomorrow."

Willow looked up from her French textbook. It was a commonplace practice to study at the Bronze. "Okay. We'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Angel."

The rest of the group chorused their good-byes. Angel made his way to the door. He was in a hurry to get out of there. He was in such a hurry that he ran smack into someone just outside the entrance.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," Angel said. He stooped down to pick up the person's purse, which had fallen to the ground. The purse confirmed Angel's suspicion that it was a girl he had run into. He put the purse in the girl's hand and looked into her eyes, seeing her face for the first time.

She was petite with well-styled blonde hair and green eyes. She wore a tight black dress and knee-high boots. Angel felt a lump in his throat as he noticed that the girl was studying him very intently.

"That's okay," the girl said finally. She ripped her eyes off of him and smiled. "In a hurry?"

Angel looked down at his shoes in an attempt to hide his blush. "Uh, yeah."

"Well, Mr. In-A-Hurry, what's your name?" the girl asked, moving so another club patron could get by.

"Liam. Liam O'Connor," said Angel. "My friends call me Angel, though."

"I'm Buffy Summers," said the girl. Her eyes widened. "Did you just say your name was Liam O'Connor?"

"Are you sure your name is Buffy Summers?" asked Angel at the same time.

"I need to go," Buffy said quickly, moving past Angel. "I shouldn't be seen with you." Buffy turned away and slipped inside the club.

"Buffy! Buffy, wait," said Angel to the closed door in his face. "Damn it."

*

The O'Connor mansion sat on a small hill that overlooked part of Sunnydale. It was so large and old-fashioned that the nearby neighbors and much of the townsfolk nicknamed the mansion Tara. They named it that after the large house in Gone With the Wind. The two houses did somewhat resemble one another. More importantly, Angel's grandfather had strategically placed the mansion so it was as far as possible from the Summers mansion.

Angel pulled up to the garage and got out of the convertible. He was too tired to take it into the garage even though he'd get yelled at for leaving an expensive car in the driveway all night. There were so many thoughts in his mind at that point that he could not be bothered by worrying about the Plymouth he'd named Sally.

"I just met Buffy Summers. I just met her," Angel muttered as he slipped in the back door.

"Just met who?" asked a voice. Angel looked up. One of the maids, a kind woman named Jemima, looked up from her sweeping.

"Bu- no one," Angel covered quickly. He stepped around Jemima's pile of floor rubbish. "No one at all."

"Sure," said Jemima. "I know that smile. You met a lady. No need to hide it from Jemima. I've known you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper, son. Is she pretty?"

Angel moved to the large refrigerator/freezer and pulled out a pint of rocky road ice cream. Jemima opened the silverware drawer and handed him a spoon. Over the years, Angel had become like Jemima's own child. They spent enough time together; she always looked after him when Senior and his wife Grace were too busy to pay their own son any mind. Angel smiled as he took the lid off of his rocky road.

"She's beautiful, Jemima. She's so perfect!" He sat down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and shoved a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. "But there's a problem."

"Get to that in a minute," Jemima said as she dumped the dustpan of trash into the trash compactor. She put the broom aside and pulled the blue bandana off of her head. "Tell me more about this girl that's got you all hot under the collar."

"She's small and blonde with these beautiful green eyes. She's got the quirkiest nose I've ever seen, but that just makes her even better looking. And that body…Jemima, she's great. But, like I said, there's a problem."

Jemima nodded. "She's the Summers girl, isn't she, Angie?"

"She sure is, Jemima," Angel admitted. "All five-foot-three of her. I'd never met her before until tonight. I ran into her-literally- on my way home from the local club."

"Kinda ironic," Jemima said as she watched Angel get up and go back to the freezer. The door shut with a snap. "Your parents tried to keep you apart for years and you meet her one night when you knock the poor girl over."

"When my son knocked what poor girl over?" asked a deep, male voice.

Angel's father, known as Senior, walked into the kitchen. He looked somewhat like his young son. He had the same dark eyes and hair, but his hair was streaked with gray in places, and the stubble on his face had turned the color of ash as well. Senior wore a tailored suit and a snifter of brandy was in his hand. Angel guessed that Senior had just come out of hibernation in his office.

"I accidentally ran into a girl at school today," Angel bit out. He opened the dishwasher and put the spoon inside.

"Ah, yes, the public school. How was your first day of inadequate education?" Senior asked. He moved the snifter around in his hand, letting the liquid wet the inside of the chalice.

"More or less inadequate, father," replied Angel sharply with narrowed eyes. "It was fine, thank you for asking."

"I can still get you into Crawford Prep again," Senior shouted behind his son, who was nearing the stairs. "You can save your academic record!"

"Let it go, Liam," added Angel's mother, Grace O'Connor, as she entered the kitchen. "Let the boy do what he wants. He's almost a legal adult now."

"He's my heir, Grace. I'm not sure if I want all of my money going to a boy who leaves the best private school in California to attend *public school, * that's all."

Grace placed a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder. "Go to bed, Liam. It's late and I am sure Jemima can clean up without an audience." She smiled at the main maid and then looked at her husband. "Good night, my dear."

"Yes, good night," said Liam Senior. He turned and walked in the same direction his namesake had gone in.

*

Buffy slipped into her bedroom silently, shutting her window behind her. She had been coming and going through the window for so long that she had it down to an art form. She flipped on the light next to her bed and looked around her room. Thankfully, there was no parent waiting for her return.

Buffy's bedroom was beautiful and fit for a princess, a princess that Buffy was not. The walls were painted dark blue. There were stars that had been skillfully sponge painted in various patterns around the room. The bed was a canopy bed, and the canopy was made of some kind of wispy silver material. An overstuffed chair sat at a dressing table and a TV was in the corner. Stuffed animals lined one wall just below her bookcase.

"Buffy Anne? Are you awake?" called a voice from down the hall. Buffy moved to her door and pulled on the handle. The door swung open. A few moments later, Joyce Summers walked into the room. She wore a white robe that swooshed behind her as she walked.

"Hi, honey," said Joyce. "How was school?"

"Great," Buffy said. "I, uh, met a guy at the Bronze tonight."

Joyce raised a perfectly shaped brow. "Oh, really?" She sat down on the edge of Buffy's bed and tapped the spot next to her.

Buffy sat down next to her mother and put her head on her shoulder. "Yeah. It's really not that big of a deal." She yawned and stood up. "It's nearly midnight. I should go to bed. I have school in the morning."

Joyce got up and walked towards the door. She paused when her hand was on the handle. "You really should get to bed earlier, sweetheart."

"I know," Buffy said. She moved towards her dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of gray drawstring pants. "Night."

"Goodnight."

*

Angel found Gunn, Willow, and the others sitting in the quad before school. Allonna, like always, spotted Angel first. She waved him over and scooted closer to her brother so Angel could have a seat.

"Hi," said Angel, suppressing a yawn.

"Long night?" Gunn teased.

"No way," Angel replied.

"Oh! Hey, Buffy!" yelled out Willow. She shifted from her seat on the cement bench they were sharing and sat on Oz's lap.

Buffy made her way over to the group, her heart stopping when she saw Angel sitting next to Allonna. She was surprised to see Angel sitting with her friends and more surprised to see Angel and Allonna play fighting over something.

Of course, Angel just had to have a potential girlfriend who happened to be Allonna Gunn, no less. Buffy liked Allonna, but she was already beginning to think of Angel in a possessive manner although she'd only said a few words to him. Angel stood up as she was coming near. He made eye contact with her quickly.

"Oh, uh, Buffy. This is Angel O'Connor. Angel, this is Buffy," said Willow, quickly introducing the pair.

"Hi," said Buffy. In a whisper she added, "Pretend you haven't met me before."

Angel nodded and smiled. He watched as Buffy turned and sat next to Willow. Then, after Buffy was seated, he sat back down next to Allonna. Allonna was staring at Buffy.

"Allonna? You okay?" Angel asked.

Allonna looked up and smiled. "Yeah. Sure. Just thinking." She patted Angel's hand and could have sworn she felt someone *glaring* at her. When Allonna whipped her head around in the direction that the glare had come from, no one was looking at her.

"We should probably go," Willow suggested as the first bell rang. "It's Wednesday."

"Ugh," Buffy groaned as she pushed herself from the bench. "Homeroom day."

*

Mr. Felix, Buffy's homeroom teacher, stood in front of the class. He was only twenty-two and more people took him for a student than a teacher. Of course, that day's choice in apparel didn't really up the faculty rating. He wore a pair of khakis and a large, blue, Felix the Cat hoodie sweatshirt.

"You are to work on your senior projects," instructed Mr. Felix. He tapped a stack of yellow papers on his desk. "Everyone needs to take a form and fill it out. It's for your permanent record."

Someone in the doorway cleared his or her throat. Buffy looked up to see Angel standing in the doorway, a textbook in the crook of his arm.

"Is this, uh, is this Mr. Felix's homeroom?" Angel asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah. Come on in," said Mr. Felix. He motioned toward the empty desk next to Buffy.

Angel walked down the row and sat at the desk next to Buffy. He smiled at her before cracking open his textbook. His late night at the Bronze had kept him from doing his homework, as he should have. He felt a tap on his arm and turned to look. Buffy was looking at him with a tiny smile playing on her face.

"So you're Liam O'Connor," Buffy said. "I thought…I never thought I would actually get to meet you. I mean, my parents have tried to keep me from meeting you for my entire life. There was this picture of you in the newspaper years ago and my parents cut it out so I couldn't see your face."

"My parents are the same way," Angel replied. "Do you ever wonder why they act like that? I mean, what's so wrong about us meeting?"

"I guess they'd be afraid of what would happen," Buffy said. She lowered her voice to a whisper when she saw Mr. Felix glaring at her. "It just made me more curious about you. I even went to Crawford Prep one day."

"You what?" Angel replied, leaning across the aisle so he wouldn't have to talk as loud.

"My third cousin Richard Penn goes to Crawford Prep. I think you know him. Anyway, one day I went to see him and I saw you," Buffy said. "You don't know how badly I wanted to talk to you. I just wanted to see what you were like."

Angel blushed and asked, "What period do you have study hall?"

"Third, why?"

"I have it then, too. Meet me in the library," Angel said, squeezing her hand quickly.

*

Buffy leaned against the check-in desk of the library. Third period had started several minutes earlier and Angel had yet to show. She tapped her student ID against the edge of the u-shaped desk. She looked down at her outfit. It wasn't too bad; black skirt, white tank top, and chunky black platforms. She began to pick invisible lint off of her outfit.

"Buffy," said a voice from in front of her. Angel was standing there, panting as if he had run to the library. "Sorry I'm late. I got lost." Angel flung his library card onto the desk and walked over to where Buffy was standing.

"Why did you ask me to meet you here?" Buffy asked. They walked past several rows of bookshelves and staked out a table in the far corner of the room.

"I want to do a little research on our families," Angel said. "Find out why they hate each other, find out why they have tried so hard to keep us apart."

Buffy nodded and put her shoulder bag underneath her chair. "We could look in the 'around town' section. It's got pretty much all the information about Sunnydale that's available. I'm sure some of the books would mention something about our families."

They headed towards the stacks and Angel couldn't help but be awed by the situation. It had taken some serious balls to ask her to meet him in the library. He knew that someone could see them and tell his father, but Angel didn't care. He didn't like Senior and never would, so Angel figured it would be the perfect way to spite him. He looked over at Buffy, who was bending over to retrieve a book from the bottom shelf. Angel never imagined he would meet her, never imagined he'd be in the library with her, never imagined he'd be denying the fact that he was checking out her ass.

"A-ha!" Buffy exclaimed. "Just the book I was looking for. Check out the title." Buffy pointed to the yellow letters with a manicured fingernail.

"The Land Feud, tale of the Summers' and O'Connors?" Angel said aloud. "You mean that someone wrote a book about our families and nobody ever mentioned it to us? That's crazy."

Buffy brought the book to the small circular table they had staked out. She began to skim the book. "It says that the whole reason my family hates yours is because of some land feud. My great-grandfather and your great-grandfather founded a movie studio in Hollywood. Their business partnership got all messed up and they ended up hating each other."

Angel looked over the page Buffy was tapping with her nail. "That still doesn't explain why we can't be together- I mean, why we can't know each other." Angel's slip-up went unnoticed by Buffy.

"I can look around my father's office," Buffy volunteered."My life is kinda like All My Children. There's some shady business going on, you know? My parents will never get a divorce. It's not that Mom doesn't know that Dad sleeps around, it's just that she doesn't want anyone else to know he sleeps around."

Angel wrinkled his nose. "That sucks."

Buffy snapped the book shut and carried it to the check-in desk, talking as she walked.

"Yeah, I guess it does. But one more year, and I will be out of Sunnydale forever. I can't wait." She slid the book across the desk and the librarian, Mrs. Mathers, looked up at her curiously. Her blue, bloodshot eyes studied Buffy and then Angel for a moment before scanning the book's barcode.

"Return it on the thirtieth, Buffy," said Mrs. Mathers, sticking a card in the back pocket of the book. She slid it towards the two seniors; not hiding the fact that she was eyeing Angel as if to figure out who he was. "And Liam."

Buffy looked up at Angel worriedly. "Come on, we need to go." Buffy hurried back to the circular table in the corner.

"What do you mean, we need to go?" Angel asked in a concerned voice. He had to walk briskly to keep up with her fast pace.

"She saw you and she saw me. And she saw the book," Buffy noted. Angel handed her the black leather jacket she'd draped across the back of her chair.

"So what?" Angel asked as they neared the entrance to the library. "They won't call the National Guard, Buffy."

"Yes, they would," Buffy insisted. "My dad has them on speed-dial. If anyone and I mean *anyone* finds out that we hang out together…they'll transfer me to another school. They don't want me to know you. They don't want me to even *see* you."

"WHY?" Angel asked. "God, this is so childishly ridiculous! Fuck what our parents think, Buffy! I'm over it! For eighteen years, my parents have said 'don't do this, Liam' and 'don't do that, Liam', and 'stay away from Buffy Summers, Liam'. I'm gonna do whatever the hell I want and I'm not going to quit being friends with you just because it pisses my father off!"

Several passing students gave them looks as they passed the pair. Angel's cheeks tinged with crimson and he looked away. Buffy placed her hand on his upper arm.

"You're right," whispered Buffy. "They can't stop us." Angel's eyes traveled to Buffy's hand on his upper arm.

"Besides," Angel replied in a husky voice, "it's not like we're getting married or anything."

Buffy made a lame attempt to pull away, but instead leaned closer to him. "Why did your father let you go here if he knew that I was here?"

Angel shrugged and leaned closer in so that their foreheads touched. "I have no clue. Just enjoy it while it lasts."

"Angel! Buffy! Come on! If we don't hurry, we won't have time to eat at Wendy's during lunch!" shouted Willow from the other end of the hallway. Next to Willow was Spike, who was digging in his pockets for something.

Angel cursed under his breath and pushed Buffy towards Willow and Spike. He began to walk towards the exit with stone feet.

*

"Jemima?"

Angel sat in the kitchen after school. He had a box of Twinkies in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. He had been sitting in the kitchen for nearly twenty minutes, waiting for Jemima to come in. He couldn't imagine that his parents had fired her; Jemima had worked for the O'Connors for years.

"Angel? Is that you?" came Jemima's soft voice. A moment later she appeared from the laundry room with a bottle of Windex in her hand. "Grab me some paper towels."

Angel walked over to the roll that was sitting on the counter. He ripped off several textured sheets and waited until Jemima asked for them. Jemima quickly snatched them from his hand.

"Go back and eat, you aren't helping me any by watching me clean the windows." Jemima sprayed the Windex on a windowpane and began to wipe it away. "How was your girl today?"

"Who? Buffy?" Angel asked. He ripped open a package of Twinkies. "She's fine. We have the same homeroom."

"That's nice. So, does she like you?"

Angel watched as Jemima wiped along the window frame with her paper towel. "I guess. I mean, I've only known her for two days."

"But you like her," Jemima said. "More 'an like her, Angie Boy. But you two can never be. You're like those two Shakespeare had-"

"Romeo and Juliet," Angel interjected.

"Right. You're like Romeo and Juliet. You've got the feuding families who don't want you two to be together."

"I never said we were going to be together."

"And you never said you weren't going to be together." Jemima put her bottle of window cleaner on the counter but kept her back turned. In a softer voice, she said, "You know I love you, Angie."

"I know you do," Angel said. "You're the only person who can call me Angie and get away with it." Jemima and Angel shared a laugh. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because part of me loving you is wanting what's best for you. And this Summers girl, Angel, she ain't what's best for you. That don't mean I won't go along with whatever you two be cooking up. I just mean that…you'll piss your Daddy off if you do this."

"I'm not doing *anything* Jemima! I have a crush! That's all!"

Angel got out of his chair and flung the box of Twinkies angrily onto the counter. "You're making it out to be like…like something it's not. We're *just* friends."

Jemima finally turned around to look at Angel. Instead of making a comment, she bit her tongue and returned to her windows.

*

Buffy and Angel stood huddled outside of the Summers Mansion. Angel stood behind a large sycamore tree and Buffy was rigging the vines outside of her bedroom window. They were on a mission; they were going to snoop around in Hank Summers' office. It was Labor Day weekend and Buffy's parents were on their yacht in San Francisco. All of the staff but the groundskeeper, curiously named Jimmy Stewart, was gone on leave. The only reason Buffy was taking Angel around the back is that there were security cameras around the front entrance that could easily film them going into the house. There were also tall hedges in the back so the neighbors wouldn't be able to see.

Buffy finally got the vines rigged to the point that they could support her weight.

"Wait here," Buffy whispered as she climbed the vines. Once on her roof, she opened her window and stepped inside.

"Buffy! What are you doing?" Angel hissed. He was whispering to nothing; Buffy had disappeared somewhere. A moment later, Buffy reappeared. A fire-escape ladder was in her arms. It was one of the kinds that you throw over the ledge and it dangles so one can escape. Or, in this case, sneak inside. Once the ladder was securely on the window frame, Buffy motioned for Angel to climb the escape ladder.

"Couldn't you have just used a regular ladder?" Angel asked as he began to climb.

"No. Jimmy the groundskeeper would have noticed me dragging a ladder from the shed. Quit complaining and get up here," Buffy insisted. She waited for Angel to climb the length of the ladder, sucking in a breath every time the ladder swayed.

Finally, Angel was inside Buffy's bedroom- or, at least halfway inside. He was gripping the windowsill for dear life. The ladder beneath him gave way and split, the bottom half-falling to the grass below. Buffy reached down for his hand and gripped it.

"You're almost here," Buffy said in a shaking voice. "Give me your hand. I'll try to pull you in a little bit." She clasped her small hand around Angel's large one and pulled. He came a bit further into the room.

"I've got it now," Angel said. He pulled himself in the rest of the way. On the way in, he tripped over the leg of Buffy's bedside table and fell down, taking her with him.

The two were on the floor and Buffy was pinned beneath Angel. She was pressed beneath him, their legs twined, his hands on either side of her. In reality, he had caught himself, but it looked like something much different. Buffy could feel her breath quickening and her chest moving up and down heavily. She gazed up into his eyes and saw him gazing down at her.

"Angel…" she breathed.

Angel, as if coming to his senses, pulled his body off of hers. Once he was on his feet, he offered his hand down to help her up.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I tripped and…" Buffy squeezed his hand to silence him. "It's okay. We just don't have a lot of time. I've got a show on at eight."

*

The pair crept down the hallway. Buffy found the door to her father's office and pulled on the knob. It was unlocked. She turned the knob and motioned for Angel to come inside. Once they were in, Buffy shut the door with a click and headed straight for her father's desk. Hank Summers had a very expensive office. It was paneled in some kind of dark, stained wood. There were Oriental rugs on the floor and a few busts on pillars around the room. A fireplace with a marble ledge completed the look.

"So what are we looking for?" Angel asked as he poked around the room. He idly ran a finger along the nose of a female bust.

"Anything that explains what's up with the Buffy-Angel quarantine," Buffy said. She came upon a locked drawer in her father's desk. Thinking quickly, she pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and began to pick the lock. A few moments later, the drawer slid open.

"Find something?" Angel asked. He came up behind Buffy and peered over her shoulder.

Buffy dug around the various files, looking for anything that would catch her eye. She reached to the back of the drawer and triumphantly held up the folder. "I'm not sure. But it was hidden in the back and in all of the classic mystery movies, the prime info is in the back." Buffy laid the file out flat on her father's desk, pushed another file aside, and rooted through the papers.

"There's nothing here, just some mortgage information," Buffy said. She placed the file back into the drawer. "Let's go. My show is on in ten minutes."

"Your show?" asked Angel as he followed Buffy out of the office. "What's your show?"

"Oh, just some sci-fi show about vampires. If you want to stay and watch with me…"

*

Three weeks passed. Angel had fully integrated himself into the Sunnydale High lifestyle and with the gang. He and Gunn were very close, but Angel spent most of his time fending off Allonna's advances. The time Angel didn't spend keeping Allonna away, he spent fantasizing about Buffy. He had it bad and anyone who looked at him knew it.

He was in love with her. He loved everything about her, not just the things he'd told Jemima that night in the kitchen. She was intelligent and funny and completely *out of reach.* It was almost like he loved some part of the impossible dream; it was almost like he loved the fairy tale. Every logical part of him was screaming out not to talk to her, not to carry her books, not to occasionally hold her hand. Every other part of him was screaming for so much more than that. He couldn't help it. He didn't care what his father thought, he never had.

There was something strange between them. It felt almost *restrained,* caged like an animal in the zoo who wants to break free. There was electricity between she and Angel that they couldn't deny. Every time they touched, Buffy felt like her skin was on fire, like she was running a fever whenever his skin rubbed hers. Just an accidental brush of the fingers was enough to cause her pulse to race.

Buffy sat at the Bronze, watching Angel dance with Allonna. It had been several weeks since Buffy had taken Angel with her to snoop in her father's office. Her parents had returned from San Francisco and her father found nothing wrong with the papers on his desk. Buffy called Angel that same night and told him to root through his father's office. Both of their searches had found nothing.

Spike brought a plate full of cookies and bowls of pretzels to the table.

"Hullo, cutie," said Spike. He snatched a pretzel from the bowl and put it in his mouth.

"Hi, Spike," Buffy said. She smiled weakly at him and then continued to watch Angel and Allonna. It just made her so upset…did he really like Allonna over her?

"Hey, Buffy," said Xander. He put several drinks down on the table. "Watching Angel and Allonna, huh? What's going on with them?"

"Not a clue," Buffy replied. She stirred her drink absentmindedly. "I hope…no, I shouldn't hope. Hoping is silly and pointless."

Willow plopped down next to Buffy, flushed and panting heavily as though she had just run. "Hey guys. Sorry I'm late."

"Where's Oz?" Spike asked as he stuffed a cookie in his mouth.

"Uh, at home," Willow said. "He's got this huge paper due in a few days and wants to finish it up." Willow glanced at Buffy and noticed that she was tuning everything out. Buffy seemed to be riveted on Angel and Allonna, who were dancing together.

"Go and cut in," Willow suggested. She gave her friend a push towards Angel and Gunn's sister. "It never hurts to try."

"Yeah," said Buffy. "I guess."

Just as she was getting up, Angel and Allonna started towards the table. Nervously, Buffy smoothed out the wrinkles on her skirt and looked up at Angel with a wide smile.

"There's the girl I've been looking for," Angel said. He grabbed Buffy's hand and took her out to the floor. A DJ started a slow song and the two began to sway slowly to the music. "Been here long?"

Buffy felt his breath tickling her ear as he spoke.

"No. A few minutes." She put her arms around his neck and felt his arms pulling her against him. They were right up against each other, closer than they had been on Buffy's floor when Angel tripped, bringing them both to the ground. Buffy began to play with the hair at the base of his neck.

Buffy diverted her eyes. She saw Spike saying his good-byes and leaving the group. He grabbed a handful of pretzels and headed towards the exit. Spike caught her eye and he waved to her. Buffy waved back before resting her head once again on Angel's shoulder.

"There's something, ah, something I wanted to ask you," Angel said as they danced slowly. He was hyperaware of Buffy's fingers in his hair. "Would you, uh…do you want to go to dinner with me sometime?"

Buffy pulled away from him slightly and a slow smile crossed her face. "That would be great." Angel looked at her, the relief obvious on his face. "Great. I was really nervous about asking you. I thought that you might say no."

Buffy wrinkled her nose and was ready to say that he was being ridiculous when she spotted someone lingering by the door. "Angel…Angel…there's someone watching us."

"What?" Angel replied, looking over Buffy's shoulder. His eyes scanned the Bronze's entrance, where there was someone standing. It was a tall male wearing a trenchcoat and a cap. Angel noted that the voyeur seemed intent on watching he and Buffy together on the dance floor; that the voyeur's blue eyes caught in the strobe lights.

"Who is it?"

"I'm not sure," Buffy replied. "I think it's someone who works for my dad."

"Do you want to go somewhere else? Somewhere where we can't be seen?" Angel suggested, turning Buffy so her face was hidden from the witness. He touched the side of her face gently and then repeated his question. "Buffy?"

Buffy looked up at Angel, who was gazing at her very intently. She noted that he had dropped his arms from around her body and was almost a foot from her. "No. I want to stay here." She reached out and grabbed his hand, then pulled closer to him.

She put her head against his chest and listened to his heart thump thumping inside his chest. That noise could almost lull her to sleep; it was so steady and reassuring. It told her that it wasn't just a dream; that she really was in Angel O'Connor's arms as they danced at the Bronze. As much comfort as his embrace brought, Buffy could not get her mind off of the man watching them from the doorway.

"Angel?" asked Buffy, finally pulling away from him. "I should get going. I'm really not too comfortable…being watched and all."

Angel dropped a feather-light kiss on the crown of her head. "Okay. I'll see you at school on Monday."

"Right."

Buffy pulled away from him and walked out of the Bronze, brushing past her voyeur. She noted there was a single wisp of light hair sticking out from beneath the man's fedora. She continued walking and didn't glance up.

*

Hank Summers sat in his paneled office, rearranging papers. Someone had been in his office. He noticed the problem when his filing cabinet full of personal files had had one file pushed down into another. Hank had looked for that dossier for two hours before he finally located it.

He looked up from his business papers when he heard his office door open and close. Upon seeing who his visitor was, Hank promptly crossed the room and shook the man's hand.

"I have information on your daughter that is imperative," said the man, pulling his fedora off.

"Please, sit," Hank said. He motioned to the chair near the door. Hank retreated to his desk and plopped down in his rolling chair. He reached across and straightened a photograph on his desk and then looked up at his employee. "What's this about Buffy?"

"I saw your daughter tonight at the local teen discotheque," said the man, making eye contact with Hank. "With a man."

"She's often at the Bronze," Hank said as he began to rearrange papers once more. "She has had several suitors. This is normal for her. Should I…should I be concerned?"

The man stood up and reached into his pocket. He pulled several small, glossy color photographs from inside his jacket.

"I believe that this will increase your interest, Mr. Summers."

Hank snatched the glossy snapshots from his employee. His green eyes scanned them and he looked up at the man with fire in his eyes. "You have captured my interest, to say the least. How did she meet Liam O'Connor?"

"Through school," the man replied. "Liam transferred to Sunnydale High at the beginning of this school year. They are both seniors and even share a homeroom and lunch period." He motioned to the files on Hank's desk. "All of this information is in your files, Mr. Summers."

"Thank you," said Hank. He stood up and moved to his office door. He opened it. "Have a nice night." "You too, Mr. Summers."

The photos were still sitting on Hank's desk when his mystery employee left.

*

Buffy bounded down the main staircase and headed towards her father's office. In her hand was a CD player; it played the newest CD she had burned.

"I want you to want me," Buffy crooned along. She paused and affixed her headphone so they were more comfortable on her ear. When it was satisfactory, she continued down the hallway, CD player in hand. "I need you to need me…oof!"

Buffy had run right into someone coming down the hallway. It was a tall and muscular someone that Buffy had collided with. Hesitantly, she looked up. It was the man with the fedora! Buffy sucked in a sharp, fearful breath. She knew that from the look in the man's eyes, he saw her and liked what he saw. Self-consciously, Buffy cris-crossed her arms across her chest; the chest that was wearing only a tight, skimpy tank top made of silky white material. Averting her eyes, Buffy walked past the employee and continued to her father's office. She barged in without knocking.

"Daddy!" exclaimed Buffy in a whiny voice. She only used it around her father to make her think she was still his little princess. "I ran into that creepy security guy of yours again! God! He's *so* weird!"

Hank looked up at Buffy. His eyes were cold and emotionless. "Buffy, I'm sorry if you have a problem with my employee, but that's a matter you and he will have to deal with on your own."

Buffy sank into the same chair the voyeur had previously sat in. "Daddy…what's going on?"

"Were you at the Bronze tonight, Buffy?" Buffy's stomach dropped as though it were weighted with stones. The voyeur had told her father…Buffy was right when she thought the man at the Bronze was her father's employee! Her life was over!

"Yes…"

"Did you dance with someone?"

"Yes…"

"Who was he?" Hank asked. He snatched the pictures from his desk and hurriedly put them in a drawer.

"I don't know," Buffy lied. "I wanted to dance, so I started dancing. Some guy came up to me and asked if he could join me. I said sure, so we danced together."

Hank looked down at his daughter, pretending that he didn't know it was a lie. Pretending that he still trusted her. "I believe you, Buffy. Now, I can talk to him about 'creeping you out' as you so put it. Go on to bed, it's nearly eleven."

*

The Sunnydale Cliffs was on the edge of the beach. In fact, the cliffs overlooked the brown sand of the beach. Angel looked at his watch for the fifth time. It was eleven thirty and Buffy had yet to arrive. They had made their date a week before and she had confirmed it that day at lunch.

Life had been complicated for Angel. He'd been doing quite a bit of lying to cover up the time he spent with Buffy. He was constantly looking for secluded areas in Sunnydale, areas that they could be alone where no one could spy on them.

After Buffy had told them that the voyeur at the Bronze had indeed been Hank Summers' spy, Angel was determined to find somewhere private for them to be together. He had found the Sunnydale Cliffs and been intrigued by them the moment he saw them.

Their friends didn't even know that they had been seeing one another. They kept the entire relationship low-key, appearing as friends in public and acting like young lovers in private. No one, not even hyperaware Willow, could sense that anything was going on.

As he looked up from his watch, a small white car pulled up. Buffy got out, waved to the driver, and hurried to Angel who was waiting in the shadows. Once the car was gone, she took his hand and kissed him neatly on the lips.

"Who was that?" Angel asked, taking Buffy's hand. They sat down on a wooden bench and began to pull of their shoes.

"Our new chauffeur Henry. Dad just hired him a few days ago, and I told Henry to drop me off here," said Buffy. She put her sandals in one hand and grabbed her boyfriend's hand. They began to walk down the beach, feeling the cold sand beneath their feet. "He had no clue what I was up to. I mean, it's eleven thirty at night."

"I'm sorry," Angel apologized. "But late at night is the only time we can see each other without someone watching over us constantly."

"I hate it," Buffy admitted. "I hate it that I have to nap in study hall and during lunch just to stay awake for the last three periods of the day. I love spending time with you, Angel, but it's so hard! I can't stand being with you sometimes…but I can't stand being away from you, either." She stopped and looked up at her boyfriend.

Angel cupped her cheek with his hand. "Me, too. Do you want to tell everyone?"

"No…yes…I don't know," Buffy admitted, covering his large hand with her smaller one. "God…this is so hard."

Angel looked down at the sand on his feet. They had stopped walking and had frozen in their spot on the beach.

"I know it's hard. I think that we should tell our friends…and…maybe our parents. Buffy, you know that even though I can't stand my parents, I still feel kind of bad for sneaking around like this."

"NO!" shouted Buffy, her word echoing in the dark night. "You're not telling anyone but our friends, Angel. Especially NOT our parents! You don't understand what my father would do if he found out that I lo…that I've been seeing you."

Angel smiled when Buffy nearly voiced her true feelings for him. He smiled because he knew that his were the same as hers were. "We'll tell our friends. Okay? We'll tell them everything they need to know, and especially to keep their mouths *shut.*"

Buffy stood on her toes and put her arms around his neck. Pulling him closer, she smiled at him for a moment until his arms braced her waist. Then her eyes fell shut and they kissed. It was the most wonderful kiss ever, like one in the movies. For just a moment, Buffy felt like she was Scarlett O'Hara, being swept off of her feet (kinda) by Rhett Butler. Finally, when she dropped her arms from him, she put her head against his chest and smiled.

"Let's go," Angel said, observing her shaking form. "You're cold and I certainly don't want you to sleep through your classes tomorrow. It's nearly finals week."

"How is that possible?" Buffy asked as they walked towards the bench that held their shoes. "It's December already. How could all of that time already passed?"

"Easy," replied Angel. He pulled on his shoes and waited for Buffy. Once she was done, he slipped his hand into hers. "We've spent all of it together or with our friends." He paused by the door of his Plymouth. "I'll drive you home."

"But…" said Buffy, her voice trailing off.

"You can't always be afraid of what your father will do, baby. If you do…"

"If I do…what?" Buffy asked him, her voice rising in irritation.

"If you are always afraid of what your father will say about it, you'll never do anything. That's all I'm saying," Angel said. He squeezed her hand and hopped into the Plymouth, quickly starting the engine.

*

Twenty minutes later, Buffy climbed out of Angel's '67 Plymouth he called Sally. She reached up to her neck and pulled something away. A moment later, she grasped Angel's hand, leaving the object in his grip. She squeezed his hand once the object was tight beneath his fingers and then motioned for him to drive away.

Buffy pulled her windbreaker tightly around her body. The Santa Ana winds were whipping that night, and they were slicing like a knife. After a long, unnecessary stroll through the back gardens, Buffy walked through the back door. She noted that the light was on.

"Hello?" Buffy asked as she stepped inside the terrace. She pushed aside the leaves of a small, potted palm tree and looked around. Her eyes widened when she saw her father sitting in a wicker chair, his hand casually on his knee.

"So nice of you to come home at…" Hank checked his watch. "Quarter after one. Where were you, Buffy?"

"Out," Buffy squeaked. She looked fearfully up at her father. He was standing now, towering over him. His face was red with anger and the veins on his neck looked about ready to pop out.

"Tell me the truth," Hank asked, his voice full of unbridled anger. "Where were you and why did you take the chauffeur with you?"

"I was at Sunnydale Cliffs," Buffy confessed. She looked down at her hands, which she was wringing tightly. "Henry drove me…I asked…he was on his way home anyway."

"Who were you with?" Hank asked. He raised his hand and figuratively caught his daughter's words with his hand. "I already know who you were with. You were with Liam O'Connor, weren't you!"

"No!" shouted Buffy, backing fearfully away from her enraged father.

"TELL ME THE TRUTH, YOU WHORE! YOU WERE WITH LIAM O CONNOR AND WE BOTH KNOW IT!"

"Fine! Is that what you want to hear, Daddy? I've been with Liam O'Connor! I'm in love with Liam O'Connor! DO YOU HEAR ME? I'M IN LOVE WITH HIM!"

Hank's hand, which he had been keeping in his pocket, lashed out at his only daughter. He struck her across the face, snapping her head to the side. The enclosed terrace echoed with the reverberation. Buffy's cheek began to bleed where her father's diamond wedding ring had cut her skin.

"I swear to god, Buffy Anne Summers, if I so much as *smell* that O'Connor boy on you *ever* *again,* I'll disown you and throw you out myself."

Hank turned on his heel and walked out of the salon. His cigar still wafted sweet fumes from the ashtray where he had left it. Slowly, while clutching her bleeding cheek, she sank to the tiled terrace floor and began to cry.

*

Buffy awoke before her alarm clock the next morning, way before it. In fact, she woke up at a very early for her time of 5:20. Climbing out of bed, Buffy gazed out the window. The sky was gray and very bleak. It was ironic how a morning sky could resemble a person's emotions so well. Looking into her mirror at her dressing table, she saw a slight line of dried blood on her cheek. She touched the cut and found that it was no longer painful although a nasty greenish-yellow bruise surrounded it.

"Great," mumbled Buffy. "That's gonna be a bitch cover up."

Numbly, with red bath towel in her hands, Buffy shuffled to her bathroom. Autonomously she showered and dried her hair. Then she trudged into her bedroom and began to apply her makeup, her towel still tight around her form. As she reached for the cover stick that would conceal her nasty bruise, her hand brushed a piece of folded up notebook paper in precise cursive. She knew it was from Angel automatically. Carefully she unfolded it and her eyes flickered over each word, committing them all to memory.

"Dear Buffy," she whispered aloud. "I cannot tell you how much it means to me that you decided to go to dinner with me. We had a great time, and the dancing penguins were just a bonus. I hope that we continue going to do stuff together because you're so much fun to be around. You make me happy and the thought of seeing you drags me out of bed in the morning. Maybe the thought that wakes me best is of our first kiss…the kiss we shared under the moon just outside the restaurant…."

Buffy let her mind reel back to their first date. It had occurred in early October, after Angel had worked up the nerve to ask her out and they had both sneaked out of their houses. He tipped up her chin and gently kissed her. It was over so fast Buffy barely registered the fact that their lips touched at all. But it was just right…a nice, soft kiss that was to be the beginning of many more, much more impassioned kisses. Impassioned to say the least. Maybe flaming would be the better word.

"Buffy, are you awake?" asked Joyce from outside Buffy's bedroom door.

"Uh, yeah," Buffy replied. She tucked the note safely in her falsely bottomed jewelry box and opened the door to her room. "Hi, Mom."

Joyce lifted a motherly hand and examined the cut on Buffy's face. "Why did you do it, sweetheart?"

"Do what?" Buffy asked blindly. She turned the light on in her walk-in closet and stepped inside, surveying her many different outfits. She chose a tightly knit black cardigan and a khaki skirt. For shoes, she grabbed a strappy pair of platforms with a Lucite heel.

"All your life we've told you to stay away from Liam O'Connor, and now you've decided you love him. Did you do this just to spite me? To cause your father grief? To get back at us for some imagined offense?"

Buffy hooked her bra and came out of the closet. She sat down on her bed and began to tug on her clothing. She had strapped her first Lucite heel on before glancing up at her mother. "Believe it or not, my falling for An- Liam- had nothing to do with you. My life isn't all about you and Dad."

Joyce looked down. To busy herself, Joyce began to fold Buffy's pajamas and put them away in her hamper. "I'm sorry you feel that way."

"Weren't you ever in love?" Buffy asked as she snatched up her piano string bracelets from her jewelry rack.

"Sure I was," Joyce replied. "I was in love with your father, once."

"How could anyone love my father?" Buffy hissed. She reached forward and made sure her dangly earrings were firmly attached. "Just stay out of my life, Mom. I'm out of here in a couple of months and then you and Dad never have to see me again. That'd actually be a pleasure."

With a nasty smile to her mother, Buffy grabbed her textbooks and went downstairs, leaving her mother deserted in the large suite. In the kitchen, there was a new face making breakfast for the Summers family. Buffy looked at the woman until she turned around.

"Buffy Summers," said the woman. She wiped her hands off on her apron. "Jemima Duckworth. Nice to meet you." Buffy noted Jemima's dark hair and her stunning blue eyes. She reminded Buffy of someone familiar. Realizing that the woman had said something,

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "Jemima…where do I know that name from?"

Jemima leaned in close to Buffy. "I work for your boyfriend's family. They're in Cancun right now, and I was ready to work some more. I'm filling your regular maid's spot because her daughter's having her first baby."

Buffy began to hurry around the kitchen, not really concentrating on what Jemima was saying. She poured herself a glass of milk and put it on the counter.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have a lot of time," Buffy said. "I have to walk to school in Lucite heels because there's no one to pick me up."

"Angie will be at the end of the street by the Chase Mansion in ten minutes," Jemima said. "We arranged it all last night after he came home. And he says thank you."

Buffy smiled. "I'm glad he likes my locket. He can keep it."

Jemima smiled and turned to the toaster, where a bagel was popping out. Skillfully, Jemima caught it and put the bagel on a plate. She pushed it towards Buffy and returned to squeezing her orange juice.

"Nothing good can come out of this," Jemima said softly as she squeezed an orange juice. "I know it can't. But I wish you the best of luck. You're gonna need more 'an pure luck to stay together."

Buffy looked dismally down at her poppy seed bagel. "Yeah, we will." She checked her watch. "I better head on down to meet *Angie* because it'll take forever in these shoes." She headed towards the back door that led to the portico.

"Any words for your Daddy?" Jemima asked as she poured the orange juice in a clay pitcher.

"Yeah. Tell him to burn in hell."

*

The walk to the end of the street was long, and by the time Buffy arrived in her uncomfortable shoes, Angel was already waiting for her. He caught the sad look on her face and was out of the car in an instant, holding her.

"What is it?" Angel asked, clutching Buffy tightly.

"I don't want to talk about it now," said Buffy. She pushed Angel away. "Let's go."

Angel hung his head and climbed into the car. "Did I do something?"

"No," snapped Buffy. "I said I didn't wanna talk about it right now, okay, Angie?"

Angel blushed and pulled away from the side of the street. "Fine."

Buffy lasted half of the drive before finally breaking down and telling Angel about the events of the night before.

"He told you he'd disown you if you were with me anymore?" Angel said. "He actually said that? I'm so sorry, baby."

"I wanna know how he found out," Buffy said as Sunnydale High came into view. "Someone told him…that one freaky employee of his. He's always around, always watching me. Once I was at the Gap and he was outside of my dressing room. I wanna keep my eyes out for this creep, okay? Kinda tall with blond hair; I saw a wisp of it awhile ago. We're talking *really* blond hair."

She paused and untangled her hand from his. "We have to be careful, Angel. That guy could be anywhere. I never told my father I wouldn't see you, but he was dead serious about disowning me."

Angel tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. He changed the subject. "Thank you for the necklace." He touched the thin silver chain around his neck. "Girlish, yes, but I can carry you around with me all of the time. Even when you're not with me."

"Oh, Angel, that's so sweet," Buffy said as she resisted the urge to touch him. "I've had that since I was ten years old. My Dad gave it to me. In retrospect, kinda glad I don't wear it now."

Willow, Cordelia, and Xander were waiting for them in the quad.

"Hey! Buffy! Angel!" shouted Willow.

Xander leaned over to Cordelia and said, "Are they together?"

"Of course they are, dorkhead. Get with the program," Cordelia hissed. She stood up and smiled as Buffy and Angel came near. "Buffy, Angel. Buffy, *love* the outfit. Dior?"

"Beats the crap out of me," Buffy replied flippantly. "I saw, I bought, I wore. And not with Daddy's credit cards, I might add."

"Oh," Cordelia said coolly. She took Xander's elbow. "Come on, Xander." Xander trailed Cordy from the quad like a puppy dog.

"Buffy, are you okay? You're never that harsh to Cordelia," Willow said as the trio began to head up a set of stairs.

"I wasn't being harsh, okay? Just get off my back and stay *out* of my business. Can you do that once, Willow?" Buffy stormed off in the opposite direction once reaching the top of the staircase.

Willow, her eyes full of concern, turned to Angel. "What's wrong with Buffy?"

Angel looked at Willow and the two headed towards their lockers, which were right next to one another's. Angel spun the combination to his lock and let the door swing open before responding. "You know that we're together, right? Everyone knows." He paused and let Willow speak.

"I assumed, but I didn't…"

"Anyway," Angel said, cutting her off. "Her dad found out about us and threatened to disown her if he found out we were still together."

Willow looked up at Angel and shut her locker door. "Oh, Angel. I'm so sorry. I never would have opened my mouth if I had known." She pulled her red hair through a clip and pulled it back behind her ears. "Nice locket." She motioned to the necklace that she could see through the neck of his shirt.

Angel blushed. "Buffy gave it to me. I want to carry her around with me always and now I can." He looked down at his watch. "We had better get going. I have a huge Physiology test in ten minutes."

Willow watched Angel go her heart heavy in her chest. Everything was just falling apart and breaking into shards.

*

Angel reached his physiology class and plopped down in his assigned seat, which was right next to Spike. Spike had been AWOL for several days and the main office had made his absences truancies, a serious offense. Spike's adopted parents had always been a bit negligent and they probably had no time to worry about their son. Spike's adopted sister, Faith, the prison inmate, had always been more important. That was a shame.

"We were wondering when you were going to come back," Angel said. He pulled open his study guide and began to scan the highlighted material.

Spike looked up at his friend. He and Angel had not met on the best of terms, but because they shared the same group of friends, they became friends as well.

"Felt like staying home and watching some Montel," Spike answered curtly. "So I did. Even visited the bitch in jail. How about that?"

"You hate your sister," Angel reminded Spike. He didn't look up from his packet.

"I do. But there are people I hate more."

Spike's statement made chills race up and down Angel's spine. He turned away from his friend and continued studying, trying to shake that feeling.

*

Jemima, Angel's surrogate mother and Buffy's confidant, carried messages back and forth between the two lovers for three weeks until Angel's parents returned from Cancun. By the time Jemima left, Hank had found out about the maid's employment with Liam Senior and was about ready to erupt with rage.

He and Buffy were keeping their distance. Hank felt utterly betrayed, as did Buffy. She missed her Daddy; the man who gave her piggyback rides in the garden and took her to Disneyland when she was six. Hank missed his darling Princess, who loved him and bounded down the stairs in pink dresses full of frills and lace. He missed the big green eyes that could convince him to buy anything in the world, be it a pony or a new Barbie.

But to Hank, his Princess had betrayed him, her green eyes shot fire. Her little girl had grown up and 'fallen in love' with the crown prince of Sunnyhell and Hank's greatest enemy. Just having her under his roof was enough to make the blood boil in his veins and his heart clinch up in agony. He found it so hard to blame her for falling in love…he remembered Francesca Darmil, nicknamed Grace by her father who had started his darling daughter in ballet.

Hank and Francesca had fallen in love the summer after senior year. They had both gone to Carmel to vacation and fallen in love. Hank was young and stupid and oblivious to the dealings of Sunnydale royalty. He didn't know that Francesca Darmil had been promised to William O'Connor, also known as Liam, when Liam was only fifteen years old. When Francesca and Hank arrived home from Carmel, eager about a new life together, Hank's father Willard told his son that Francesca would become an O'Connor in a matter of hours.

Hank pleaded with Liam's father, Shannon O'Connor, to no avail. Francesca was married to Liam O'Connor in all the pomp and circumstance of a royal wedding and became Grace Darmil O'Connor, with no reference to the beautiful Italian Francesca at all. That Francesca lived on only in Hank's memories. Joyce Stadterman was just a replacement for Hank's true love Francesca and Joyce knew it.

Hank had tried desperately to keep Buffy and Angel apart, but it looks like his crafted plan was going to fail. It couldn't fail; history couldn't repeat itself. Hank wouldn't let it. He'd been living in years of downright agony, and Hank would not make his only daughter endure that pain, no matter the consequences.

*

The moon loomed large in the night sky, hanging impossibly low and tinted with a hint of orange. It provided just enough light to see, but it couldn't prevent tripping and stumbling.

Buffy glanced down at her illuminated watch hands. Midnight. Angel had told her to meet him here, on Cooper's Hill, at eleven-fifty. Angel was a no-show, and Buffy was noticing how bitterly cold it was that night. She wrapped herself in the blanket she had brought from home and found a clear spot to sit. Cooper's Hill was actually part of a series of hilly areas in a Sunnydale Valley, which was just outside of Sunnydale itself. The hill in question was larger than the others and also slightly more difficult to get to. Once one reached the top of the knoll, however, the view was breathtaking. Sunnydale's lights glittered like tiny stars, and one never felt so large as they did looking over the town.

It was the last day of Christmas vacation, and Buffy hadn't seen or spoken to Angel since the first day of Finals. The voyeur was constantly on their heels, and he turned up absolutely *everywhere.* Buffy was seriously missing Angel, but she could never seem to find a place to be with him alone. Willow had passed Buffy a note right before seventh on the last day of school, telling her to meet Angel on Cooper's Hill at eleven-fifty on the last day of break.

Buffy looked around the dark hill and sighed. Her ears perked at the noise of a twig snapping underfoot.

"Angel?" Buffy asked timidly. She looked around, hair whipping in her face.

"Buffy? Is that you?" Angel asked from somewhere in the darkness.

"It's me. Where are you?" Buffy replied, standing up. She tightened the blanket around her shoulders.

Suddenly, a circle of yellow light appeared. It waved back and forth. A flashlight! Buffy walked towards the circle of light, running right into her boyfriend in the process. She reached up and flicked off his flashlight, wrapping her hand around his wrist. She heard the flashlight hit the ground with a thud.

"Hello, stud," Buffy said in the breathy voice that drove him crazy. She felt his arms loop around her waist, catching the curve of her hip. "I was getting concerned." She planted a feather-light kiss on his neck.

"Why?" Angel asked. He pulled her up tight against him and buried his face in her dark blonde hair.

"You were late."

"Sorry," said Angel. He kissed her crown and looked down at her in the darkness. "I didn't mean to scare you." He sighed and let his head drop onto her shoulder.

"Not that I mind, but why did you ask me to meet you here?" Buffy asked, pressing her cheek against his chest.

"Well…" Angel's voice trailed off as he wove his fingers in her blonde tresses. "I've wanted to tell you something for the longest time…"

"Yeah?" Buffy asked, feeling her heartbeat race and her breath quicken.

"I love you."

The silence in the woods was deafening. It was as though someone had dropped a bomb and Buffy was deafened even as the words 'I love you' echoed in her ears. Over and over it played, securing itself firmly in her memory.

Buffy kissed his shoulder and affirmed, "I love you, too."

*

Buffy's eighteenth birthday had passed without a hitch. Willow had come to spend the night at the house. They'd stayed up late enjoying a John Cusack-Rob Lowe video Fest. They capped the night off with orange sherbet and fake wine left over from New Year's.

The days seemed to drag on forever. She saw Angel less and less at school. They tried to keep their distance and it was so hard not to see him. Buffy managed to sneak out with Henry the chauffeur's assistance at least twice a week. She knew there was no one new in Angel's life, and there was no one new for Buffy either. It seemed that they were in it for the long haul, even if the long haul included years in a roach motel as family pariahs.

But the funny thing was that the man who had been following Buffy hadn't yet switched courses. The voyeur, that Buffy had nicknamed Billy Idol, was always five steps behind. Buffy was pretty sure that most of the time she and Angel were never really alone.

Spring Break was coming up soon, and the gang had all chipped in for a trip to Mexico. They would spend five days in a small town in Mexico, not far from one of the party hotspots. The group included Angel, Buffy, Willow, Oz, Gunn, Xander, Cordelia, and Spike who would join them later. Allonna had distanced herself from the gang when Angel had picked Buffy over herself. To cover the fact that Buffy and Angel would be going somewhere together, Angel simply told his parents (who would be in Paris that week anyway) that he was going to Sacramento for a week to visit his friend Penn, who had moved earlier that year. Buffy just plain omitted the fact that Angel would be tagging along with the group to Mexico. The 'A' word in her house was practically treason anyway.

The plan was to take Oz's Volkswagen bus, load it up, and drive down there in one day. They'd do the same thing on the way home to Sunnydale. It was going to be fun; Cordelia had spent her share of the money on renting three expensive suites were people could pair up. It'd be too expensive to go by couples, and then Gunn would have to room with Spike, which was not necessarily a good thing.

It was dark when Buffy left her house to go to Willow's. She told her parents that they were all going to Mexico as a group, and no one dared speak Angel's name. They left at the crack of dawn, all of them piled together in the van. Willow and Oz were in the front, Xander, Gunn, and Cordy in the middle, and Buffy and Angel smushed together in the back. It was their first time alone in a long time, and they were glad for the smushed seat.

"What are we going to do when we get there?" Buffy asked as she played with Angel's hair.

"I don't know," said Angel. "How does spending the next five days locked up in a hotel room with me sound?"

"Funny," Buffy said. "I plan to turn a nice golden brown on this vacation, and I can't do that if I'm cooped up in a hotel room with you. Not that I would mind, but it's just that I haven't tanned in the *longest* time. You can tan with me, you know?"

"Sounds good," replied Angel with a grin. "I'll have to keep the guys away from you with a stick."

"You think there won't be girls after you? Please. I have excellent taste and they're going to want to…paw you and do the immoral things to you I only *think* about."

Angel pulled a sexy half smile and fluffed his pillow behind Buffy's head. "Go to sleep, Buffy. We won't be to Mexico for a while. I'll wake you up when we get to customs."

Customs was a breeze. They didn't take anything even though a drug-sniffing dog went through the car and found nothing. Once they were through customs, the group was now fully awake. Well, awake as one could be after a sleep-deprived night and several hours of shuteye in a crowded VW bus.

The hotel was absolutely beautiful. It was called El Agua de Jesus, or the water of Jesus. Cordelia swore up and down that it wasn't some kind of religious convent-y thing that they'd be trapped in forever. It turned out El Agua de Jesus was just some kind of overt reference to holy water.

"We're alone!" shouted Buffy in excitement. "WE'RE ALONE! Angel, we're alone! No parents, no creepy watcher guy! All alone for five days."

They found the outdoor patio that served drinks. Both got daiquiris with swizzle sticks and strawberries dipped in chocolate. They had pretty much abandoned their friends- not that the gang minded anyway. They were to busy checking out all of the shopping their was to do while Oz was busy converting their money to pesos.

"I never thought it'd be so hard being apart," Angel admitted as he polished off a third strawberry. "Ever. It's like torture."

"It's worse than torture," Buffy said. "Soon we'll be out of the house. We can get away from Sunnydale and be together and no one will tell us we can't be."

"That sounds so nice," Angel agreed. He finished up his daiquiri and began to play absentmindedly with his purple swizzle stick. "But there's a way we can be together earlier."

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked before she popped the end of a strawberry in her mouth.

"We can get married."

*

"WHAT?" shouted Buffy around her strawberry. "WE CAN GET *WHAT*?"

"We can get married," Angel said. The look on his face was completely serious. "You and me- you can become an O'Connor- we can be together. Nobody can tell us we can't be if we get married, Buffy, don't you see? Your father won't be able to rule over you because I'd be your husband."

"Angel," said Buffy. She dropped her voice into a low whisper and leaned in close to him. "You're talking about getting married. You! Sober you! You're talking about a forever kind of commitment."

"I know that," Angel said. He pushed his drink glass away from him angrily. "I can't do this anymore, Buffy. I can't be away from you. I can't watch you live in fear that your father will catch you sneaking around. And I understand that it's a forever kind of commitment. I want that from you. I want that *with* you. Don't you understand Buffy? I want to be with you *forever*."

Buffy's scrupulous expression melted away. It was replaced with a tiny smile that represented more joy than it displayed. "Okay. I'll marry you." She squeezed his hand and bolted from her chair, letting out a joyful squeal.

"I have to go buy a dress!"

"Buffy…" Angel groaned as he got up as well.

"Ah, ah, ah! I need a white dress and I didn't pack one," said Buffy. "You get the rings and we'll meet in the lobby at six to figure out what's going on."

Buffy kept her mouth shut while she, Willow, and Cordy shopped for a basic white dress in the town's many shops. It was so hard to resist the urge to tell her friends that she and Angel were getting married *right then,* but Angel had reinforced the fact that it was to be a surprise. Loose lips sink ships, as the proverb says.

"I like this one, Buffy," said Cordelia. She held up a long summery dress. The white cotton material reached mid-calf. The top of the dress was intricately woven with small pearls.

"It's perfect," gushed Buffy. She reached out and touched the lightweight material. Then she lightly graced the woven pearls. "I love it. You're the best, Cordelia."

The girls stood outside of the small shop after purchasing Buffy's wedding dress. Willow and Cordy were sipping frozen drinks. Buffy, who had had her share of icy goodness that day, was looking at various floral stands for flowers that she liked.

"What's up with you, Buffy? You're acting all schizo," Cordelia told her friend with a knowing look. "You haven't gone crazy, have you?"

"Of course not," Buffy said as she looked into a florist's shop. "I'm just looking at the flowers, Cordelia."

"We're in Mexico and you're looking at flowers," Cordelia sighed in disappointment. "There's so much wrong with that statement."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Are we going out tonight? Oz and I found this club not far from here."

"That sounds great," Buffy said. She mentally added, 'for the reception.' She looked down at her watch. It was just about six. "I promised Angel we'd meet him in the lobby at six. We've got something to tell you guys." Buffy led the way to the hotel, eager to see Angel.

Cordelia leaned over to Willow and whispered, "As long as they're not getting married."

Angel had had an easy time finding rings. Mexican silver was some of the best around, and Angel had found two modest wedding rings that could pose as everyday wear. Buffy's had 10 miniature diamonds in the band, and Angel's was just a basic silver ring. Maybe later when they got back home and were out of school, he could buy them some better rings. But, Angel decided it was better to go incognito than to wear flashy rings that garnered a million questions.

He walked into the lobby and sat down on one of the well-upholstered divans. In his hand was a small plastic bag. Inside the bag were the two wedding rings. Buffy would have no engagement ring. He still wasn't quite able to process the fact that in his hand were *wedding* *rings.* The suggestion had popped out of Angel's mouth before he had time to register it. The more he and Buffy had argued about it, the more sure he was that he wanted to do this, that he wanted to marry Buffy. She was the love of his live and he deathly afraid that her father would try to tear them apart.

Angel didn't honestly expect the situation at home to get any easier, especially when they told their respective families that in the eyes of God and quite likely the government of Mexico, that they were married. Buffy Summers would trade sides and commit a treason to her family; she would become an O'Connor. She would give up her name for the name of her greatest enemy. The enemy that was never really hers to begin with.

"Angel, man, what did you need?" asked Xander. He came down the stairs with a bag of brownies in his hand. "I was trying to get better reception for the Spanish porn channel."

Oz, Xander's roommate, shrugged his shoulders. "I had no part in this. I just want to state that for the record." Oz waved Gunn over. The dark-skinned man came over, his construction worker-esque boots clomping on the floor of the hotel.

"Man, what did you want? I was with this girl…I can't believe you," mumbled Gunn. He joined Oz and Xander on the largest couch in the lobby. "I'm never doing jack shit for you again, man. I was *so* close."

"Sit down," Angel growled.

Buffy, Willow, and Cordy breezed through the doors a moment later. Buffy held up the bag that held her dress so Angel could see it. She mouthed the word 'perfect' to him.

"Will, Cordy, go ahead and sit down."

Buffy moved to stand next to Angel. She noted that he was playing with the chain of his necklace, the very chain that held her locket.

"Guys, there's something we want to tell you," Buffy said. She looked up at Angel. "Angel? You tell them."

"Buffy and I…Buffy and I are getting married." Dead silence.

*

Gunn was the first to speak, the first to drag his jaw off of the floor and tactfully close it.

"You're getting married. You and Buffy- are getting MARRIED?" He turned to Angel. "Have you completely LOST YOUR MIND?"

"Surprise," Buffy squeaked.

"I'm so happy for you!" Willow exclaimed. She drew her best friend into a hug. "When will you get married?"

"I don't like this!" Xander exclaimed, standing up. "Buffy's a Summers. Angel's an O'Connor. This has 'Romeo and Juliet' written all over it!"

"Xander knows who Romeo and Juliet are?" Cordelia asked in amazement. She turned to her boyfriend with a look of awe on her face. "You *did* read the play in freshman lit."

"Cliff's Notes," Xander supplied. "Anyway- you guys can't do this! While you're at it, go ahead and make the poison and get the vault and the big pointy dagger all lined up!"

"Xander," said Oz in a placid voice. "They didn't ask for your approval. Come or don't come."

Everyone turned to look at the taciturn guitar played in shock. Oz just shrugged and squeezed his girlfriend's shoulder. He ignored the looks everyone cast in his direction.

"Cordy?" Buffy asked. "What about you?"

"Whatever," sighed Cordelia. "That just means more money for you, Buffy. God! That's so not fair! Why does everyone have all this money!"

"That was a 'yay' vote," Angel confirmed. "I found a little chapel not far from here that performs wedding ceremonies on short notice. They have an opening tomorrow at noon, as a matter of fact. Are you ready, Buffy? We can wait longer if you want."

"No," Buffy replied. She turned to face her husband-to-be. "I want to marry you as soon as I can. I want to be your wife."

Angel pressed his forehead to hers. "I love you."

"I love you," Buffy replied. She kissed him gently. "I guess we should all go on to bed. We've got a big day tomorrow- wedding *and* a reception." She turned to face Willow. "Come on, Will, Cordy. You guys have to make sure this dress fits. And Cordy, can I borrow your heels?"

Their voices became softer as they headed up the stairs. Gunn looked at Angel, his best friend, who was watching Buffy and the others leave. He clapped his friend on the shoulder. "I'll buy you a drink."

"That's right!" exclaimed Xander. "We can drink here! Not that, I uh, haven't before. But- now we can do it legally." Xander turned to Oz and said, "Are you coming, Oz?"

"No," Oz replied. "Willow and I are going to go downtown to see some bands play. I hear that Los Gatos are playing- they're a pretty good Maruichi band. I'll see you all in the morning."

*

The next morning came quite quickly. Buffy spent the morning with the women. They ate a light breakfast on the outdoor patio. Angel spent the morning with the men. They had a bachelor party of sorts; they went to one of the clubs in the large party hub nearby. Buffy stood in front of her full-length hotel room mirror. The dress Cordelia had picked out was absolutely gorgeous. It fit like a dream, and Cordelia had also lent a pair of white sandals for Buffy to wear. Oz had picked up a nice bouquet of flowers on the way back from Angel's knockoff bachelor party.

"In just under an hour, I will become Mrs. Angel O'Connor," Buffy said to Willow. Willow was standing behind Buffy, twisting her hair and holding it with hair sticks.

"Perfect," said Cordelia. "Out of my way." She pushed Willow aside and began to spritz Buffy's upsweep twist with holding spray.

"Oh!" exclaimed Willow suddenly. "You need something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue!"

"You're so right!" Cordelia explained. "Well, the dress is new. The shoes are borrowed. All we need is something old and something blue."

"My locket," Buffy said. "Angel has my locket. Willow, can you get it from him? He, Gunn, and Xander are getting ready. I'd get it myself, but it's bad luck for the bride and groom to see one another before the wedding."

"Sure," said Willow. She quickly left the hotel room in search of Buffy's locket.

"Why do you need some locket?" Cordelia asked. She picked up a nail file and began to file her manicured fingernails.

"It's old. My dad gave it to me when I was a little girl. I gave it to Angel."

"Now about something blue," Cordelia said after a long pause. "What color is your underwear?"

"That's none of your business!" Buffy exclaimed, very insulted. She crossed her arms across her stomach and raised an eyebrow.

"I was just curious if they were blue! Jeez! I don't have anything blue. I think Willow does, though. She has this hideous bracelet she bought yesterday when we went shopping. Remember? It had all those funny blue rocks on it? She won't mind if we borrow it." Cordelia moved to Willow's jewelry box and pulled out the hideous large bracelet.

"Ugh," Buffy said. "Why the hell did she buy this thing?" She held out her wrist.

Cordelia snapped the clasp and made sure the bracelet was secure. "No clue. It's pretty damn ugly though." With a sigh, she looked in the mirror and surveyed her outfit. It was a tight pale yellow dress with matching yellow platforms.

Willow rushed in a moment later, her large skirt flowing behind her as she walked. From her fingers, she dangled a necklace.

"Angel says we need to hurry," Willow said. "Lift up your hair. He's really nervous. I think he might barf. He was green. Well, not really green. More of a mustard yellow."

"Nice visual, there, Will," said Cordelia.

"Oh! You're wearing my bracelet," Willow said, motioning to the bracelet on Buffy's wrist. "Now that I look at it…that thing is really ugly."

The three girls laughed and headed out of the hotel room.

In the lobby, Angel's palms were sweating. He was pacing the lobby floor in his black shirt-and-pants combination. He had called a cab to pick Buffy and the girls up because he refused to see her before the wedding. Willow had assured him several times that Buffy was ready to get married and that she looked beautiful.

"C'mon, Junior!" Gunn hollered as he came down the stairs. He would be Angel's best man. "We need to go unless you're planning to get married in the lobby."

"Where are Xander and Oz?" Angel asked as he glanced at his watch. It was eleven forty-two.

"Outside, waiting for you. Oz has the bouquet and Xander has the camera. We're all ready." Gunn glanced outside. He saw Willow, Buffy, and Cordelia getting into a cab. "Your bride just left for the church. I can't believe it. You're getting married."

"I know," Angel said. The two began to walk towards Oz's VW bus. "I will be married in just a few minutes. I'm ready. I know I want to spend my life with Buffy."

"Good," said Gunn. "Because she wants to spend her life with you."

*

The chapel was small and white. It sat on a luscious hill of green grass and daisies. A steeple lifted a large iron cross into the air. The walkway leading to the door of the chapel was lined with red and white candles. The sun was shining brightly above and a light breeze brushed through the trees.

Willow would be Buffy's maid of honor. Xander would walk his friend down the aisle. Oz would serve as the ring bearer, Cordelia as the flower girl. Cordelia had accepted the task of flower girl just so she could come down the aisle before Buffy could. Gunn would be Angel's best man.

Buffy stood in the small room off to the side of the main area. "Let's do this."

Willow gave her best friend a hug and handed her a Kleenex to wipe away her tears. "I just want you to know how happy I am for you. You and Angel were meant to be. I love you both."

Buffy just nodded and wrapped her arms around her best friend. Willow sought out Buffy's hand and led her towards the door. At the door, Buffy hesitated before grabbing the doorknob.

"I love him," Buffy said. "I love him." The second time, she reassured herself with a firm yet shaky voice. There was the strangest twinge in her stomach.

"I know you do. Why? What's wrong?" Willow asked.

"Nothing," said Buffy. "Butterflies, I guess." Buffy and Willow headed out of the small holding room. Xander took Buffy's elbow, Gunn took Willow's elbow, and Oz took his place as ring bearer. Cordelia began to sprinkle flower petals down the aisle.

Angel looked down the long aisle and at Buffy, who stood by the doors with tears in her eyes. He rubbed his chin and thought she had never looked so beautiful. Gunn and Willow came down the aisle, and then the church's piano player began to play a one-handed version of the wedding march. Angel looked at the Minister next to him, at the candles flickering by them.

Buffy and Xander began to make their way down the aisle, timing each step with the shaky piano player. They stopped next to Angel and the minister.

"Who gives this woman to this man?" asked the minister.

"I do," replied Xander. "In place of her father."

The minister nodded and motioned for Xander to take a seat next to Cordelia. The chapel was silent for a moment and everyone could hear Xander winding up the disposal camera. Click, click, click.

"Do you, Liam Angelus O'Connor take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love, honor and cherish her in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Angel said, looking Buffy right in the eyes.

"Do you, Buffy Anne Summers, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honor and cherish him in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, as long as you both shall live?"

Buffy hesitated. Her breath caught in her throat. Swallowing, she answered, "I do."

The minister turned to Oz and said, "May I have the rings?"

Oz took the rings off of a white pillow and placed them in the graying minister's hand. The minister placed Buffy's ring in Angel's hand. "Repeat after me. I, Liam-"

Angel grasped the ring in his hand and turned to face Buffy. "I, Liam."

"Take thee Buffy."

"Take thee Buffy."

"To be my lawfully wedded wife. With this ring."

"To be my lawfully wedded wife. With this ring," repeated Angel in a shaky voice.

"I thee wed," said the minister.

"I thee wed." Angel slipped the diamond ring on his young bride's finger.

The minister turned to Buffy and had her repeat the same words Angel had said, except for the name Buffy instead of the name Liam.

"If any man or woman shows just cause why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Buffy, Angel, and their friends watched in horror as the church doors swung open. Buffy reached out for Angel's hand. Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief when they saw who was barging into the church. Spike.

"Hey, now, mates! What's this? A wedding?" asked Spike in his cockney accent. He got down on one knee in front of the minister and said, "Please continue, padre. Don't let me interrupt *this.*"

"Then, with the power vested in me by the country of Mexico, I now pronounce you man and wife." The minister gazed at Angel. "You may now kiss the bride."

Angel looked at Buffy, who was now his wife. He took her hand and slowly pulled her to him. Angel lifted up the veil and began to kiss her passionately. The hoots and hollers of their friends, who had become their family, interrupted the kiss. Angel blushed and led his wife down the aisle.

Xander took the entire roll of pictures before the group even got out the door. He took them all before he realized that he hadn't turned the flash on. They prayed that the film would develop. Buffy and Angel would only have one wedding if things turned out the way they expected them to. With one long look, the minister watched the married couple and their friends drive away. Deep in his stomach, he felt a twinge of dread.

*

The sun had fallen beneath the sea and palm trees. Buffy and Angel were alone in their hotel room; the one Cordelia had rented for their 'honeymoon'. The rest of their wedding party was still out enjoying the reception. The happy couple, who had only been married nine hours, stood on opposite sides of the king-sized bed.

Buffy wore her pink-and-yellow pajamas with sparkly blue stars. Angel wore a wifebeater and his boxers. Neither one touched the coverlet on the bed. Both were too afraid to even look up from the satiny bedspread. They were man and wife, and they were both too afraid to consummate their marriage.

"I'm scared," Buffy whispered as she pulled back the corner of the green bedspread. She felt the gentle sheets below her fingertips.

Angel's voice came back, hoarse as he spoke. "I am, too." He paused. "All of that passion we have…that we always wanted to show but never could…now we can. We're married now, Buffy. I love you and I'll try my best not to hurt you."

"I know you'd never…" her voice trailed off. "This is so stupid. All I've wanted to do for the longest time is make love to you, and now I'm too terrified to even pull back the comforter." She ran a hand through her hair.

Angel stepped around the bed and slipped his arms around her waist. He began to trail feather-light kisses down her neck. Buffy reached forward and clasped his hands, which were focused on her waistline. She turned in his embrace and touched his cheek with her hand.

"Tell me you love me," Buffy said. She reached blindly behind her and began to tug away the coverlet of the bed.

"I love you," groaned her husband. He was working on the first button of her PJ top.

"Tell me you need me," she added, pulling the secondary sheet off. Damn those hotel maids, the bed was too well made.

"I need you."

"Show me that you love me. Show me that you need me."

Angel looked up into her eyes and pulled the PJ top off, letting it fall to the floor. He pulled her against him and pressed her against the bed. He felt her shift beneath him and her arm stretched out, reaching for the bedside lamp. Angel flicked the switch and the light fell dark.

"I love you."

Those were the last words spoken that night.

*

Three days later, the group was ready to head back to Sunnydale. Cordelia and Xander had broken up and gotten back together twice during the vacation. Gunn had found a lovely Senorita on the beach. Oz and Willow were better than ever, and Buffy and Angel, were, well, married. Spike had managed to piss everyone off at least once, but his innate teddy-bear quality eventually had everyone apologizing.

Their marriage weighed heavy on each spouse's mind. Even though they were married now and had been together several times since then, Buffy would go back to her house and Angel to his. They had to live deceitfully and hide the truth from their parents until the time was right.

For Buffy, she didn't think the time would ever be right. She'd married Angel because she loved him and because she wanted to make sure no one could tear them apart. She knew her father was powerful and could get the marriage annulled in twenty minutes if he had to. Buffy knew now that thinking her father wouldn't tear them apart was just plain foolish.

Buffy twined her fingers with Angel's. It was still so weird to think of him as her husband.

"You're worried too, aren't you, baby?" Angel asked as he slipped an arm around her slim shoulders.

Buffy put her head on his chest. "Yeah. My Dad and your Dad both have the power to make this marriage like it never existed. I'm just so scared that they'll tear us apart…god, I'm so scared. I'm scared that we'll never see each other again…scared you'll never find me."

Angel tipped her chin up so he could gaze into her eyes. "I will always find you, my beloved. It doesn't matter how far apart we are. I'll always be with you." Buffy kissed his collarbone and snuggled deep into his warm embrace.

"Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"Nothing," Buffy said.

*

Five weeks passed in Sunnydale and no one even suspected the fact that Buffy and Angel were now married. No one had any reason to suspect anything. Angel moved his wedding ring to his right hand and their friends kept all details mum. The story was that they went on vacation. Xander's wedding photos had turned out, even the one that was taken when he accidentally dropped the camera on the way out.

Some of them were out of focus, but several were magnificent. The photos of the ring exchange were perfect. The photo of them kissing was beautiful, it was lit by candles and the joy emanating from the newlyweds. The only bad picture was the one that had no head on a body. Xander had cut off the minister's head. The group regarded this as an omen.

Buffy stood right in front of the maintenance entrance of the O'Connor mansion. She looked at her watch- the hands read eleven-thirty. At eleven-thirty five, Jemima would unlock the back entrance and lead Buffy up the back stairs and right to Angel's room. They had gotten this pattern down perfectly; they had never been close to being caught before.

Buffy nervously twisted her ring around her ring finger and waited for Jemima to click the door open. She hated sneaking around like this. Buffy thought it was dirty, she was essentially hanging her dirty laundry out for everyone to see. At any moment Senior or Angel's mother Grace or any one of the other house staff could catch her. Jemima was not completely on their side- she thought their relationship doomed to fail- but because she loved both Angel and Buffy like her own children, she would not rat them out.

"Come on, honey," whispered a soft voice.

The door clicked open.

Buffy grabbed the metal spring-activated door silently and stepped through the entryway. In the pale light of a single laundry room bulb, Jemima Duckworth was standing in front of her. Jemima motioned to the rickety wooden staircase that had been in place since the house was first built.

Buffy made soft steps as she ascended the staircase. She counted each step as her foot landed on it; there were twenty-three narrow wooden steps. The twenty-second was weak and creaked when someone stepped on it, so Buffy just hopped from twenty-one to twenty-three. She had to do all of this in the dark, though, because the maintenance hallway had no lights.

Buffy reached out her hand in search of the brass doorknob that would lead her to the hall.

She found the doorknob and gently turned it. The door opened and light confronted Buffy's eyes, causing her pupils to become small and her head to hurt. After a moment, she stepped into the light and shut the door behind her.

Angel's bedroom was at the end of the hall. Grace O'Connor's bedroom was across from her son's room, but the paneling was so thick that nothing could be heard through the walls. As for Senior O'Connor, he hibernated in his downstairs office and hardly ever came upstairs. Buffy padded down the hallway, her feet sinking into the lush forest green carpeting.

Angel could feel her coming, feel her presence looming closer. He got out of his bed and opened the door a sliver. A moment later, Buffy was standing in front of him. She looked so innocent and young to him then. Her hair was already tousled from previous sleep. Her clothes were rumpled. But her eyes…her eyes sparkled. Just by looking into them, Angel knew everything he would ever need to know.

He opened his arms and she stepped into them. Gently Angel raked his fingers through her long blonde hair. Buffy held him, clutching tightly to him as if he would slip away.

"What's wrong?" Angel asked Buffy. He brought her to sit on the bed.

"Everything," Buffy told him. "Absolutely everything." She clutched his hand and began to play with his fingers in an attempt to distract herself. She looked up at him, still playing with his fingers.

"Angel, I'm pregnant."

*

Hank Summers sat in his office at his home, going over yet another stack of color photographs brought to him by the voyeur who had been following Buffy. These pictures were just the latest in an unfolding tale of betrayal and passion.

Hank pressed his lips together and pushed the incriminating photographs aside. He looked at his employee, the same one who had been watching Angel and Buffy since September. The employee sat in silence, waiting for Hank to speak.

"And you say she's not in her bedroom?" Hank said. He moved towards his bar and poured a drink. Once he was done, he sat back down behind his desk.

"That's right. I saw her sneak out," said the voyeur. "She leaves every night at the same time."

"To go where?"

"I think she goes to the O'Connor mansion," said the voyeur. "She takes a different route every time and I am unable to follow her."

Hank put his glass on the table and folded his hands beneath his chin. "Please, join me in the front room. We're going to wait for my daughter to come home."

In silence, the mystery employee stood. He followed Hank out of the room. Pulling his hat off, he ran a hand through his light hair. Then he put the hat back on and continued to trail Hank to the front room.

*

"I'm pregnant."

The words seemed to echo in Angel's ears. He finally choked out, "Pregnant."

"Five weeks," said Buffy. "It's just a guess. I haven't seen a doctor or anything yet. I've been too afraid to."

"You're pregnant," Angel said again. "Oh, god, that's fabulous."

"Fabulous? I'm eighteen years old and pregnant. How is this FABULOUS?" Buffy asked of him.

"Because it's *our* baby. We made it together," said Angel. "That's how it's fabulous. Nothing can ever take it away from us because it's part of me and part of you."

Buffy smiled. She recognized the sheer terror in his eyes and she recognized the smile he put on to cover it up. He was trying to be strong for her, trying to forget his own terror.

"We have to tell them," Buffy said. "There's not another option now. It would have been a bit easier to keep this a secret if I wasn't pregnant, but now I am. I can't keep hiding this, Angel. The whole situation is beginning to make me sick. I always feel guilty because I'm lying not only to my parents, but to everyone else."

Angel rubbed his hand on her shoulders, trying to calm her down. "It's going to be all right, baby. If you want to tell your parents tonight, I'll go back with you so you don't have to tell them alone."

"What if…what if he kicks me out?" Buffy asked in a small voice. She got off of Angel's bed and moved slowly to the door. She watched him pull on a shirt and grab the keys to his Plymouth.

"Then you can live here," said Angel. "My mom's a pushover, really. She's just one big fool. My dad will be harder to convince pretty much because he's an absolute asshole. You are *my wife* and I will take care of you. That's what I promised, remember?"

Buffy nodded and followed Angel down the maintenance stairs and to the laundry room, where Jemima was pressing sheets.

"Angie? Where are you going at this hour?" Jemima asked. She looked up from her pressing. "And Buffy, too?"

"I'll tell you later, I promise," said Angel. He leaned over to kiss his surrogate mother on the cheek and then squeezed her hand. Turning away from Jemima, he led Buffy out of the house with a supportive hand on the small of her back.

Jemima could hear them muttering as they left the house and headed towards the garage. It was then that Jemima made the connection. The matching rings, more specifically the fingers that the rings happened to reside on, had tipped her off.

They were husband and wife.

On shaky feet that were attached to shakier legs, Jemima headed towards Senior's office. Knocking twice, she waited for Mr. O'Connor to invite her in. A moment later, a muffled male voice came through the heavy wooden door.

"It's Jemima, Liam," said Jemima, leaning in close to the door.

Liam Senior swung open the door. He looked unkempt. His business shirt and slacks were wrinkled; his graying dark chocolate hair was tousled. A pair of lightweight glasses rested on the bridge of his nose.

"What is it, Jemima?" asked Liam restlessly. He let Jemima in and turned off C-SPAN, which had been playing on his television. Drowsily, Liam looked at his employee.

"I'm waiting."

"I told Angie I wouldn't say anything, Senior. I promised he and the little lady I'd keep my big mouth shut. But I can't. I just can't." Her dark eyes looked frantic as they hopped around the room, moving from object to object, not meeting Senior's eyes.

"You told him you wouldn't say *what* exactly, Jemima? You're confusing the hell out of me," said Liam Senior, looking at his employee expectantly.

"He and Buffy Summers. They're married."

The remote in Liam's hand clattered to the desktop. He looked up at Jemima, who had tears running down her plump cheeks. "My son married Buffy Summers? Why in the Sam Hell would he marry Buffy Summers?"

"They fell in love, Liam," said Jemima.

"And you knew this?"

Jemima looked down and began to smooth the pleats of her skirt with shaking, callused hands. "I knew that they were in love, Liam. I didn't know they were married until tonight."

Liam stood up and pushed his chair away from his desk. He stood across from Jemima, leaning up against his desk. "What makes you think this? Did they tell you that they were married?"

"No, Senior. I figured it out on my own. I saw their rings…Angie wears a simple silver one that bounces back and forth between his right hand and his ring finger. Tonight…he squeezed my hand before he left and it was on his ring finger. Buffy's looks just like his."

"They? You mean, Liam had Buffy in this house? Do you know where they went?" Liam had moved to his coat rack. He pulled on a heavy wool jacket and smoothed his unruly hair down.

"No," said Jemima. She stood up. "They took Sally and left."

"Sally. The Plymouth?" asked Liam Senior as he swung open his office door. He began to race towards the garage and towards his Ferrari, which was safely parked inside. He walked briskly and Jemima tried to match his pace.

"The Plymouth," Jemima affirmed. "I think that they went to the Summers mansion."

"What in the world for?" Liam Senior asked. He climbed into the car and shut the ice blue door with a slam. He reached for the garage door opener and the aluminum door opened. "Don't wake Grace up. Let her be."

Jemima watched Liam Senior drive away. Once he had disappeared down the long driveway, Jemima numbly headed to her small bedroom on the far wing of the house. She picked up her sewing and cradled it in her lap. She couldn't make her fingers pick up the needle.

"I betrayed my son," Jemima said. "And I betrayed my dear Angel. Oh, lord, forgive me."

While Liam O'Connor Senior raced towards the Summers Mansion, Hank and his employee were waiting patiently for Hank's traitorous daughter to arrive home. He heard a door slam in the driveway and smiled.

"Show Time."

*

Buffy clutched her husband's hand as they walked up the long walk to the mansion. He was just as nervous as she was, probably more so. He suddenly wondered if Hank Summers had a gun collection…

Right as they reached the door, Buffy turned to face him. She slung her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shoulder. If this was the last time Buffy would ever see him…she wanted to remember his scent, how he felt in her arms.

"Don't try to be strong for me," Buffy said, her voice muffled by the fabric of Angel's shirt. She stood on her toes and kissed him lightly. "I love you."

"Don't talk like that," Angel insisted as he pulled her up to him. "We're going to be fine. It'll go okay." He kissed the crown of her head. "I love you, too." He dropped his arms from her sides and pushed her gently forward, beckoning her to open the door.

Buffy grabbed the door handle. Every fear she'd had was about to be confronted. She was afraid…afraid of being separated from Angel. Afraid for the baby that was barely a month old. Afraid for the dreams she'd had that would soon be popped if her nightmare came to life. She felt sick, but she knew that the rest of her life depended on turning that door handle and walking into her living room.

"I'm right here," Angel told her.

Buffy clenched her jaw and swung open the front door. She gasped when she saw her father and the employee sitting in two chairs, waiting for them to arrive.

"Angel," Buffy said in a calm, even voice. "Come in."

Angel stepped into the foyer and grabbed Buffy's hand, part of his body hollowed by shadows. He shut the door after gripping her hand. The click of the door sounded throughout the room. Hank slowly stood up from the wingback chair with burgundy upholstery.

"William," said Hank, turning to his employee. "Stand up. Introduce yourself to my daughter and her lover." Hank motioned to the man sitting in the chair next to the fireplace. Slowly, he stood up. Then he reached up and removed the hat from his head.

"Spike?" asked Angel.

"Oh my god," Buffy breathed. "It was you the whole time! You bastard!"

"What?" asked Spike, dropping the cockney accent from his voice to reveal a California accent. "I was just doing my job, Buffy."

"You lied to us! We trusted you! We thought you were our friend!" Buffy shouted. Angel had to hold her back. He knew that if let go Buffy would beat the shit out of Spike.

"He wasn't," Angel said softly. He looked up at Spike.

"We're the people you hate more than your sister, aren't we?"

Spike tapped his nose emphatically. "Ding ding ding! Give the spoiled rich boy a prize! Of course you are."

"Why?" Buffy asked. "Why do you hate us? We did nothing to you."

"Well, pet," said Spike as he dug in his pockets. He paused and pulled a Lucky Strike from a pack in his coat pocket and lit up before continuing. "You didn't, but Angel did."

"What did I do?" Angel asked in bewilderment. He was positive that he'd never seen Spike before transferring to Sunnydale High, and Angel had never been anything but nice to the supposed-Brit.

"Do you remember a boy named Will Striker?" asked Spike, taking a drag on his cigarette. He raised his eyebrow to look at Angel.

"You can't possibly by Will Striker," said Angel. "No possible way."

"Angel…who's Will Striker?" Buffy asked.

"Will Striker is my half-brother."

*

Liam Senior drove up the Summers' driveway. He smiled upon seeing his son's Plymouth parked hastily and at an angle in the driveway. He saw four shadows standing in the front room; one of them was unmistakably the outline of his son. Liam walked up the concourse towards the front door. He stood by it for a minute, listening to the conversation inside.

"What do you mean he's your half-brother?" Buffy asked. She moved her hand to rest on Angel's upper arm.

"My father had an affair with Jemima," said Angel. "The same year I was born. Jemima was a widow…her husband had been killed in Vietnam years before she came to work for us. Senior and…she…had been high school sweethearts, but he was supposed to marry my mother. He did, and one day Jemima started working for us. She had a son nine months later whom she named William O'Connor Striker, leaving out her maiden name of Duckworth all together.

"We were friends when we were little, and then one day, he just disappeared. Jemima didn't talk about him at all, and Dad refused to tell anyone where Will was. That's how Mom found out that Will was his. Fourteen years later, I met Spike. He was actually the first person I ever met at Sunnydale High. I never made the connection…not until now."

"But why do you hate him Spike? Er, William?" Buffy asked, trying to fight away tears.

"He had everything I never had! He had *my* father! He had *my* house! He had *my* fucking money, and then some! He had everything that should have damn well been mine! But I was just the bastard child of the maid. I never got anything."

Spike reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. "That's gonna change."

*

"Don't do this, Spike," said Hank, trying to negotiate with the shaking man. "I know you don't like him. Neither do I. But murdering him won't prove anything. You won't be able to have that inheritance if you're sitting in jail."

Angel bit his lip and wrapped his hand around Buffy's. He was shaking. He just kept staring into the barrel of the gun.

Spike cocked the gun. "Doesn't matter. If I don't get it, no one does." His finger itched on the trigger. He saw a shadow outside the door and shot a hole into the door blindly.

"SHIT!" shouted a voice from the outside.

"Dad? Is that you?" Angel shouted, not moving from his frozen position of terror.

"Liam! Who the hell just shot me?"

"Come inside, *Dad,* and see for yourself," Spike bit out, the gun shaking in his unsteady hand. "Or I shoot the head off of your prince."

The door swung open and Liam Senior stood in the doorway, his upper arm bleeding. The blood was seeping through the blue fabric of his shirt, turning his upper arm purple.

"William? What the hell are you doing?" Liam Senior asked, locking eyes with his other son. His gaze ticked to Liam Jr., or Angel as his mother called him. "Liam? Care to explain what in the Sam Hell is going on here?"

"You act like this is my fault," Angel said coolly. "It's not. It's your bastard child's fault. You're the one who was fucking the maid."

"You're the one who was fucking Buffy Summers!" shot back Senior angrily.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DAUGHTER!" shouted Hank. He grabbed Angel and pushed him up against the wall of the front room, completely forgetting about the man with the gun.

"I had every right!" shouted Angel. "I had every goddamn right!"

"You had no right to violate my princess like that!" screamed Hank, pounding Angel's head against the wall. His large hand tightened around Angel's neck. "What makes you think you can do that?"

"Because he's my husband," Buffy said calmly, turning to face her father.

Hank's hand gave way and Angel crashed to the floor, gasping for air. As if in slow motion, Hank turned to look at his daughter. He couldn't speak for the longest time. Every word he'd ever thought was lodged in his throat.

"He's your…husband? You married Angel O'Connor?" Hank asked in a voice full of contained rage.

"Yes," Buffy said. She crossed her arms across her abdomen and turned to Spike. "And you wouldn't get the inheritance anyway, Spike, even if you killed him. Angel's child would."

"You're pregnant?" asked three male voices at once.

"She's pregnant," Angel confirmed. Angel pulled his body off the floor and edged away from Hank, who looked ready to erupt. Angel looked his father in the eye. "And before you ask, it's mine. We made the baby *after* we were married."

"When *were* you married?" Liam Senior asked, coming closer to his son and…daughter-in-law.

"Spring Break," Buffy told him. "In Mexico by a minister." She held up her ring finger, which held her small wedding ring. "We had to. We have to be together. Don't you see? We can end all of the anger our two families have by being together."

"So it was just a scheme to bring us all together so we can hug?" Hank asked bitterly.

"NO. I *love* her. She *loves* me. Love is a pretty foreign word with our families, isn't it? My father's been screwing the maid for nearly twenty years. And as for you people, well, everyone knows about your affairs, Hank."

A smirk crossed Hank's face. "But you didn't know that they were with your mother."

Angel took a deep breath. "I'm not surprised."

"Why is everything always about you? Hello! I'm the one with the frigging gun, here!" shouted Spike, as he was waving the weapon in the air. "I'm part of the damn family too!"

"You never were," Angel said, spinning to face his half-brother. "You were *never* part of our family. You can pretend you were, but you weren't. Nobody loved you, not even your own mother. She loves *me* more. Plain and simple."

"You're lying!" shouted Spike. "You bastard! You think you can just say anything and it's like the word of god! You're NOT GOD, Angel O'Connor! You're not anything but a spoiled rich boy with a slut for a wife!"

"I'm not a slut," Buffy said, speaking up for the first time in a while. "Can we just stop all of the yelling and sort this out like adults?" She took a deep breath and looked at Senior.

"Mr. O'Connor…I'm sorry…but I love your son. I'm having his baby. I want to get to know you and your family. I don't want to keep this stupid feud up anymore." She left Senior speechless and turned to look at her father, who was shaking with anger.

"I'll never forgive you for what you did," Buffy said shakily. "You planted a mole in my group of friends and you paid him to rat me out. You had me followed and lied straight to my face about the whole thing. As far as I'm concerned, you're not my father anymore."

Then her eyes clicked over to Spike. "I'm sorry that you got screwed over, Spike, really I am. I wouldn't want to live your life. But you are the *lowest* form of life on the face of the planet. You're scum. And you wanna know why? Because you sold out people who loved you and trusted you for a couple bucks and a flashy new car."

Angel opened his arms and Buffy fell into them, crying and sobbing into his t-shirt. He closed his eyes and rested his face on her shoulder, pulling him closer to her. They turned away from their family and tried to regroup.

Buffy opened her eyes suddenly and horror filled them. She pushed Angel away, getting him as far from her as she could. She had to save him…The room reverberated with the sound of a shot being fired.

*

"Buffy?" asked Angel. He had been thrown to the ground by his wife and heard a shot being fired. Buffy lay prone and still on the ground, blood was pooling around her body.

"Buffy!" Angel fell to his knees next to her, pulling her body into his arms. "Call an ambulance…please…"

Hank darted into the kitchen for the phone. Senior nervously approached his son and daughter-in-law, kneeling next to the beautiful blonde woman his son held in his arms.

"You're gonna be okay, Buffy," said Angel, smoothing her hair back from her face. There was blood on his hands it smeared into her hair.

"My baby?" Buffy asked in a whisper.

"The baby will be fine too," Angel reassured her. "We're all gonna be just fine." He closed his eyes and willed the tears not to fall. He couldn't cry in front of her, he couldn't upset her more. Buffy had shoved him out of the way, knowing that Spike was going to fire. She took the bullet that was meant for him.

"They're on their way," Hank said as he re-entered the room. "How is she?"

Liam Senior stood up and moved away from Buffy. "Stay away from her, Hank. Just don't touch her."

"Don't boss me around, Liam," said Hank, shoving the older man away. "I don't want to hear it from you."

"You sleep with my wife, you hire my son to spy on my other son and your daughter, then you let your own daughter get shot. I should do more than boss you around."

"When did you get all high and mighty, Liam O'Connor? You're as bad a sinner as I am! Taking the woman, I loved, impregnating the maid. What a son of a bitch."

"Dad! Hank! Stop it," said Angel. "We have better things to do than argue. Buffy is on the floor, bleeding. Someone go look for the ambulance." He looked up. "Where's Spike?"

"Oh, shit," said Hank. "He ran."

"FIND HIM!" shouted Angel. "If it's the last thing you ever do for your daughter and grandchild, FIND HIM!"

"I'm gonna die?" Buffy asked in a whisper, her hand reaching for him. Angel clasped her small one in his blood-covered hand.

"No," said Angel. "You're gonna be fine."

Liam Senior darted out the door and into the dark night. He could hear the sirens coming closer. A moment later, the blue and red lights were flashing against the trees. The ambulance came closer and closer, screeching to a stop in the driveway. Liam flagged them over.

"Buffy's been shot. She was shot…she's bleeding…she's pregnant," said Liam, trying not to panic. "Help her."

One of the EMT's nodded and they pulled a stretcher from the back of the ambulance. With lightning quick speed, they had pulled Buffy and her child onto the stretcher and were wheeling her towards the ambulance. Angel was still clutching her hand when the stretcher was loaded into the ambulance.

A large male EMT touched his arm. "You can't come in, son."

"I'm her husband," Angel said. "That's my child. Let me come."

The EMT's exchanged looks of interest and waved Angel into the ambulance. Liam and Hank watched as the ambulance sped towards the hospital. Once it was out of sight, Liam Senior grabbed his keys, hopped in his Ferrari, and sped to the hospital, leaving Hank alone with the killer.

*

Willow, Gunn, Cordelia, Xander, and Oz were waiting in the waiting room of the hospital. Angel was a nervous wreck as he paced the doors to the operating room. His shirt and hands were covered in blood. Buffy and her baby had been admitted to the hospital and sent right into surgery to remove the bullet. That had been five hours earlier.

The police were on the hunt for Spike. Various Sunnydalians had given tips on his whereabouts. Hank was on the phone with his insurance company who said they refused to pay for Buffy's surgery because they didn't know she was married and couldn't fund the surgery because it wasn't in her new married name. Liam Senior and his wife were sitting on the far end of the waiting room, watching Angel pace back and forth.

"Angel O'Connor?" asked a surgeon as he stepped out of the operating room. He pulled down his facemask and scratched his nose.

"I'm Angel O'Connor. How is she?" Angel asked, coming up to the surgeon.

"She's in critical condition, but she's alive. The bullet punctured her left lung, just below her heart. That's why we were in surgery so long, Mr. O'Connor. We had to avoid the heart at all costs during surgery. It was a very delicate operation."

"And my child?" Angel asked. "How's my baby?"

The surgeon smiled. "The baby is just fine. The bullet was nowhere near it. It was going into shock because of the amount of blood your wife was losing, but we were able to replenish the blood supply. They should both recover."

"Oh, thank god," said Angel. His mother came to him and wrapped her arms around him, his father did the same.

"I didn't know Buffy was pregnant," said Willow softly.

"I found out tonight," Angel said. "Before everything got complicated. I hope they find Spike and kill him. If they don't, I will."

"I can't believe he did that to you guys," Gunn said. "I mean, I never liked him, but I thought you all were…tight."

"It's hard to believe," said Angel. He looked up to see a police office walk through the hospital's double doors. "Officer?"

"Which one of you is Liam O'Connor Senior?" asked the officer, disregarding Angel. The young officer's eyes locked on the elder O'Connor.

"I am. What's all this about?" asked Senior, stepping forward to speak to the officer.

"I'm sorry to be the one to deliver the sad news, but your son was killed," said the officer. "He was running from authorities and had taken a hostage, whom Spike declared he was ready to shoot. Having no other choice, I drew and fired and your son was killed."

Liam pressed his lips together. "Thank you, officer, for letting us know." He turned to face Angel. "I'm going to the station to do some paperwork. I'll be back later. If Buffy wakes up, tell her…tell her I want to make it work."

"I will," Angel said with a smile. He turned to the surgeon, who looked bewildered. "Can I see her now?"

"Of course. She's up in ICU by now," said the surgeon. "I'll take you up myself."

*

Day broke and Angel was still in Buffy's room. She hadn't woken up from the surgery yet, but Angel refused to leave her side. He wanted to be there when she opened her eyes. He took a drink from his paper cup full of bland coffee. He'd been running on the Colombian lighter fluid since late the night before.

Angel's hands were still covered in Buffy's dried blood. They had filled the lines in his palm and fingers, taking each of the creases and painting it red, then brown as the blood dried. The blood was on his wedding ring that was now sitting on his ring finger, as it should be. His mother had persuaded him to change shirts, so his bloodstained top was now in the laundry room at O'Connor mansion.

Angel refused to shut his eyes. He was afraid that if he opened them, Buffy wouldn't be asleep on the bed in front of him, that she'd be gone and dead, buried. All because of Spike and his crazy envy. Angel should have put it all together; the clues were right there. Buffy's voyeur having light hair and blonde eyes; the fact that Spike always seemed to know what was going on. How he barged into the chapel during the wedding. But Spike, his half-brother, was dead and lying in wait in the Sunnydale Funeral Home. No one wanted to pick a casket for the son of Liam and Jemima, but someone had to. It had been relayed to Angel that Jemima had no part in the whole deal with Spike even though she had resigned her post as head maid.

Friends and family members had been in and out of the small ICU unit all night. Some stayed longer than others did; still others barely set foot in the room out of fear. Hank Summers only peered through the safety glass in the window, he never came close to his daughter's hospital bed.

"Angel?" asked a voice from the doorway.

Angel looked up to see Jemima standing in the doorway, a large bag over her shoulder. Angel looked back down at his unconscious wife who heart monitor still blipped comfortingly.

"I didn't have nothing to do with this," said Jemima firmly. She waved her hand, holding five pudgy fingers, in the air. "Nothing. I'd never hurt you or Buffy, Angie. You gotta believe me."

Angel continued to look down at Buffy.

"This is how it is, huh? I near raise you for eighteen years and you pay me back by ignoring my pleas," said Jemima with a sad shake of her head.

Angel finally looked up at Jemima with tired eyes. "He wasn't always like that, Jemima. Spike wasn't always vengeful and angry. Something…or someone made him that way."

"I didn't!" shouted Jemima. "I love you! I would never do that to you! Never."

"I'm not talking about me," Angel said with a sigh. "This has nothing to do with me. What happened to Spike, Jemima? What happened to the little Will Striker who used to play Matchbox cars with me on the back terrace? Why did he turn into a vengeful, spiteful man?"

He looked away from the former maid, who still stood with her hand in the air.

"I didn't do NOTHING."

"But you ratted me *out,* Jemima. You told my father all about Buffy and I. You even told him where we would be. If he hadn't have arrived, maybe Buffy, Hank, and I could have worked something out. Now Buffy's hurt and your *son* is dead. *Your* *son* is *dead.

*

"

"But he's not," insisted Jemima. "He's right here, in front of me, yelling at me, telling me how much he hates me with venom for words."

Angel looked down, trying to stop the anger that bubbled up from inside. "I'm not your son, Jemima. Stop deluding yourself. You always wanted me to be your son because I was *legitimate.* Because I was good and honest, not to mention sane and rich. You wanted me to be your son because you thought if I were, that *you* could get money. That's what it's about, isn't it? That's what it's always about! I trusted you and you turned your son against me! I *loved* you *more* I love my own mother and you betrayed me."

It was all falling into place now. How Jemima had known Angel met Buffy at the Bronze that first night. How well she gauged the relationship, how open she was to letting Buffy sneak in while she was adamant against them being together in the first place. How when the Summers' maid was ill, Jemima was there and prying Buffy for information.

"Angie, I didn't-" started Jemima, her ice blue eyes skittering around the sterile looking room.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't sell me out, tell me that you didn't know all along what you were going to do."

Jemima, forty-seven years old and holding a broken heart in her chest, could not do what Angel had requested.

"Get out."

Angel's voice was hard and cool like ice. The minute the letter last letter 't' had escaped from his lips, he was attending to his wife again. He never heard Jemima leave; he never heard the cries that escaped her lips as she padded down the hallway. All that mattered at that moment was Buffy, his future, who had yet to wake up from her drug-induced haze.

*

The light was bright, so very bright. The fluorescent buzz above wasn't helping the pounding headache. The room's walls were too white, too shockingly bright. The smell of food and vomit and plastic was overwhelming. What was that black form standing by the side of the bed, reaching down and gracing her face?

Buffy slowly opened her green eyes and focused on the blurred shape in front of her. Though she couldn't make out the person touching her, she knew that the hand gracing her cheek could only be Angel's. She squinted and managed to make out his face.

"Angel?" Buffy asked softly, trying to lift her arm. It felt like lead.

"You're awake," Angel said, looking down in happiness.

"You're finally awake."

"How long…how long have I been out?" Buffy asked in a weak voice. She noticed the searing pain that ran across her chest, she realized that it was very hard to speak, let alone breathe.

Angel placed a finger on her lips, noting how speaking pained her. "Shh. You've been asleep for a day. I guess they thought you needed all of that medication." His hand traveled to rest on her abdomen. He caught Buffy's inquiring gaze. "The baby is fine. Just fine."

Buffy smiled and motioned for him to come closer to her. When he was close enough to stare into her eyes, Buffy leaned forward and touched his lips with hers. When he pulled away, he saw that Buffy was smiling.

"I missed that," Buffy said in a whisper. "How…how is Spike?"

Angel swallowed hard. He had had difficulty accepting Spike's death, even as he flung it angrily in Jemima's face. "Spike's…Spike's dead. The cops had to shoot him. Apparently, he had taken a hostage and was ready to kill him."

"That's so sad," Buffy whispered, reaching for Angel's hand. "All he really wanted was a family, Angel. I don't think he w-was al-always after...the money."

"I don't think he was either," Angel admitted with a shake of his head. He grasped Buffy's hand in his. "Jemima was in on it, Buffy. She told Spike everything he needed to know."

"No," said Buffy, shocked. "Jemima…Jemima…knew?" She turned away from him. "Where is she now?"

"I don't know," Angel admitted. "I told her to leave. I was just so angry…Buffy, do you understand?"

"Yeah," Buffy said in a soft voice. "Can I be alone now? I just…I'm just in pain. A lot of pain."

Angel nodded and pushed his chair away from the hospital bed. "Yeah. I'll get a doctor for you." He walked towards the door and stopped. He placed his left hand on the metal doorframe.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Buffy replied as a single tear slipped down her cheek.

*

Buffy had a new habit of waking up at the strangest times. The hospital's regimen of early morning blood tests and prenatal check-ups had seriously messed with her sleep cycle. It had been two weeks since Spike had shot her in the chest, two weeks since Spike had died, and two weeks since Buffy was admitted into the hospital. She was nearing the end of her stay, but she'd have to return regularly for the baby to make sure it stayed healthy and fine.

Liam Senior had invited Buffy and the baby to move in with the O'Connors since she *was* an O'Connor anyway. He even volunteered to pay for Buffy and Angel's first place if and when they decided to move out.

Everyone, Angel the most, was surprised at Senior's turnaround. He had been a money-grubbing asshole who Angel had openly expressed his rancor for. Senior was making an honest attempt at becoming part of Angel's life and Buffy's life as well, seeing the void that Hank's sporadic fatherhood had left in the young woman. Besides, Buffy was carrying Senior's first grandchild, and it was obvious Senior planned to spoil his grandchild severely.

"Buffy?" asked a voice from the door.

Buffy looked up to see her father standing in the doorway. He had a bouquet of lilies in his hand.

"Come in," Buffy said softly. She glanced at her watch, and noted it was not even five in the morning. The doctors would be coming in soon to make sure everything was alright. "You don't have a lot of time, the doctors…"

"I know," said Hank. He put the flowers on the tray table and sat next to Buffy's bed. "Gives me an excuse to leave."

Hank's careless remark stung. Shrugging it off, Buffy asked, "Why are you here?"

"Liam Senior, I understand, has invited you and your child to move in with him," Hank said, shifting in the plastic chair.

"Uh, yeah," Buffy said coolly. "I *am* an O'Connor now, Dad. Senior's not going to leave me out on the street." Hank quirked a blond eyebrow. "What happened, Buffy? Where did my little Princess go?"

"Your princess has been gone a long time Dad, a very long time. I know you blame Angel for everything that has gone wrong in my life lately, but you can't do that. I don't blame Angel for anything that has happened, and I never will. I love him."

"You say you do, but you're only eighteen. You don't know who you love, or even what love is," Hank insisted.

"I know who I love. I love Angel. I'm sorry that you can't accept that, but I do. You don't even have to accept it," said Buffy bitterly. "I don't care what you think anymore. I can't trust you, so why should I care what you think?"

Hank got out of his chair and walked towards the door, his shadow looming as he trudged towards the exit. "I never meant to upset you, Buffy. I never wanted to turn you against me."

Buffy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Well, you did. As far as I'm concerned, you never existed."

She rolled away from her father as carefully as she could; fearing that anything more aggressive would dislodge the tubing. She listened to each of his footsteps as he went down the hospital's long main corridor. Slowly, her eyes traveled to the bloodstained silver band on her finger. She took her ring off and squeezed it in a tight fist, then closed her eyes.

*

"Are you asleep?" asked a male voice from above.

Buffy opened her eyes. It had been barely ten minutes since Hank had left, and now Buffy had another visitor. It was Senior O'Connor this time, not Hank. Buffy gave Senior a tight-lipped smile.

"Hi, Senior. Have a seat," Buffy said softly. She motioned to a molded plastic chair next to her hospital bed.

Senior placed a small velvet teddy bear on the hospital tray table above Buffy's hospital bed. "I found him in the gift shop and thought that he was cute." He noted Buffy's raised eyebrow.

"That's not really why I'm here. I'm here because I want to explain about the feud- or at least, what I know about it."

"Senior, it's really not an issue anymore," Buffy said. She reached up for the tray and picked up the small velvet bear.

"Still." Senior rubbed his hands together. "Your ancestors and Liam's ancestors were feuding for a long time. Eons, probably. Anyway, my parents had the bright idea to throw Hank and I into as many situations as possible to alleviate this feud." Senior ran a hand through his hair and looked up at Buffy, who was toying with her hospital band.

"Your father and I were best friends before…before I married Gracie. Hank fell in love with her, and Gracie with Hank, and…that's when I lost both of them. I lost my best friend to my wife and my wife to my best friend. I made a pact that I would never let anything like this happen again. I heard that Hank and Joyce had had a little girl, and I had a son…I could just see all of these terrible things happening. So I had a talk with Hank and we decided to keep our kids apart."

"But then Angel transferred to Sunnydale High and you didn't have a choice anymore, right?" Buffy asked Senior. She played with the arms of the small teddy bear in her hands.

"Right. If I really wanted to keep you and Liam apart, I could have. But I was so tired of the whole charade of a happy marriage to a wife who was cheating on me with Hank. The truth is, Buffy, that Hank and imposed this whole feud because we loved the same woman. I fell in love with Jemima because my wife didn't love me. And I made a lot of mistakes, maybe Will was one of them, but you and Liam…I want to make sure that that doesn't turn out to be a mistake. I'm offering my support, Buffy. Liam loves you, and you love him, and I'm not going to put you through the same things I was put through."

*

"Is everything ready?" Willow asked.

She heard a door slam and ran frantically towards Cordelia, who was busy stirring a bowl of punch against her will. Buffy was coming home from the hospital. Willow, Cordy, Oz, Xander, and Gunn had arranged the plan with Senior O'Connor to throw Buffy a surprise party for her return.

"I can't believe you're making me stir- oh my god!" shouted Cordelia.

"What? Break a nail?" asked Xander sarcastically as he brought a basket of fresh-baked cookies in from the kitchen.

"Yes! And I think it's…." Cordelia froze in mid-sentence.

"In the punch?" finished Gunn, motioning to the acrylic nail floating in the fruit punch.

"Xander Harris! Come over here and dig out my nail!" shouted Cordelia, flinging her body away from the glass bowl. She flicked the ladle away from her body as if it were on fire. Xander came over and Cordelia pointed to the nail, which was floating in the fruit punch.

"I'm not sticking my hand in there," Xander said with a shake of his head.

"Here," said Oz as he shoved a pair of salad tongs in his friend's hand as he passed through the room. "See if these will work."

"Guys! Hide! They're coming!" Willow hissed towards the congregation around the punch.

"I have to get Cordy's nail!" hissed Xander in reply. He submerged the yellow-handled tongs into the glass punch bowl. A moment later he raised them victoriously, a single nail clasped in the metal salad tongs. Cordelia snatched the nail from the tongs and Xander quickly hid the tongs in a basket of cookies.

"Come on!" shouted Gunn. "They're walking up the walkway."

Willow and Oz hid behind the velvet loveseat. Gunn hid behind the snack table, Cordy and Xander were camped out behind the long leather sofa. They all waited in silence for a key to turn in the lock. They could hear Buffy and Angel's muffled words on the other side of the door.

"Home sweet home," Angel said, swinging the door open.

A moment later, their friends popped out behind various pieces of furniture. A banner was strung across the archway. The blue letters read 'Welcome Home, Buffy!'. Crepe paper hung from the rafters while shining confetti shimmered on all of the surfaces.

"You guys did this for me?" Buffy asked, looking at her friends. "That's so sweet of you guys. You really didn't have to go to all this trouble…"

Angel placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be ridiculous, baby. We wanted to. And don't thank us idiots- thank Willow. She threw the whole thing together."

Buffy walked up to Willow and gave her oldest friend a tight squeeze. "Thanks."

"Is this where the party's at?" asked a booming male voice from the back patio. A few moments later, Senior walked in the room, a cake with in his hands. On top of the cake were sparklers ready to be lit.

Buffy's face lit up upon seeing Senior with the cake. She never dreamt in a million years that her biggest supporter would not be Angel but Angel's father. For years, she thought Liam Senior hated her, but Senior didn't know her. He had stepped in during a vulnerable time and offered to take care of Buffy while shaking off his introverted persona. Grace O'Connor, Senior's adulteress wife, was noticeably absent from the party, as was Buffy's father. Buffy's mother, however, was standing in the back of the crowd. If Buffy had glanced at her mother's fingers, she would have seen that the six-carat wedding ring was gone.

Senior put the cake down on the refreshment table and looped his arm around Buffy's back.

"Come on, we've got to light the sparklers. Willow, do you have the camera?" Senior asked as he steered his daughter-in-law towards the sheet cake.

"I do," said Willow. She waved the camera in the air for emphasis.

Angel stepped behind his wife, looping his arms around her waist. He felt her lean into his embrace and sigh.

"You okay?" Angel whispered to her softly.

Buffy nodded and watched as Senior brought over the cigar lighter that had been featured in 'It's A Wonderful Life'. Buffy recognized it immediately as the one that Jimmy Stewart played with in the ice cream shop. One of the many things that Buffy had learned about Senior was that he loved Jimmy Stewart and collected a lot of his movie memorabilia.

"I'm fine," Buffy replied. "All this excitement. And I'm a little achy, but I'm here with you, in your arms. Nothing could be wrong when I'm right here."

"Ditto," replied Angel. He let go of her and nudged her gently towards the cake.

The sparklers were spitting silver and blue sparks all over while they sizzled and popped energetically. Buffy clapped her hands excitedly and waited for the brilliant flashes to die down. Once they had she picked up the cake knife and began to slice pieces of the yummy red velvet cake. The last person to pick up a slice of cake was Joyce, Buffy's mother.

"Hi, honey," said Joyce. She accepted the china plate Buffy handed her.

"Hi, Mom," said Buffy. She put the cake knife down and turned to face her mother. She'd never noticed the wrinkles on her mother's forehead or around Joyce's once-vibrant eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Never better," said Joyce with a smile. She stabbed her deep red cake with a fork. It was then that Buffy noticed the honker of a wedding ring was absent from her mother's hand.

"Your ring is gone," Buffy noted softly.

"It is," Joyce agreed. "I threw it at him as he and Grace O'Connor left early this morning for Tahiti."

"You mean…Dad ran off with Angel's Mom?" Buffy said. She wrapped her arms tightly around her abdomen and tried to comprehend. "Why?"

"I was never the one for your father, and I don't think Grace was the one for Angel's father. Like they say, love's a funny thing."

Buffy looked at her lover, who was laughing and smiling with their mutual friends. Her hand reached over to turn her wedding band around her ring finger. "Yeah, it really is." She motioned towards the small black velvet loveseat. "Come on, let's sit down."

"But the cake…"

"Take it. Senior won't care if you get a bit of frosting on his hideous velvet couch," Buffy said with a half-smile. She motioned her mother towards the soft, ugly black couch. The two women sat there for a moment, not sure what to say next.

"I'm sorry," Joyce said as she put her plate aside.

"For what?" Buffy asked before it dawned on her. "Oh, you mean you're sorry for telling me that I ruined your idyllic life?"

"That would be it," Joyce said. "I'm actually glad that you fell in love with Angel O'Connor."

"You are."

"Yes," said Joyce. "It's about time somebody in this damn family did what they wanted to. And I know that you love him…and he's shown that he loves you. I just wish that you could have talked some sense into me, Buffy. I was so busy agreeing with Hank that I never…"

"Let it go, Mom," Buffy instructed. She placed a hand on her mother's knee. "I forgive you; I forgave you a long time ago. Promise me one thing?"

"Never to do it again?"

"No, that's not it. Promise me that you and Senior will spoil my baby rotten to the core."

"It's a deal."

*

May was soon over, and Buffy and her friends graduated from high school. By that time, everyone knew that Buffy and Angel were married. The Mayor, who presided over the ceremony, handed Buffy Anne Summers-O'Connor a diploma. When Buffy and Angel had gone to the obstetrician, the doctor had informed the couple that her child was conceived in March. Angel always liked to believe that they conceived their son or daughter on their honeymoon in Mexico.

By July, Buffy had fully healed from her gunshot wound. There would always be scars from the surgery, but Angel said they only enhanced her beauty. This comment, of course, was followed by Buffy's retort of 'you're a terrible liar' and Angel would insist vehemently that he wasn't lying. Which, of course, he wasn't.

Buffy and Angel had taken up the secondary master suite that had belonged to Angel's deceased Grandfather. They were planning their *real* wedding, complete with bachelor and bachelorette parties, a beautiful ivory dress, and a honeymoon in Maui.

Nothing could spoil their happiness now.

*

Birds were chirping. In the distance, a woodpecker was pecking into a tree and there were ducks on the south pond. A gentle summer breeze blew the lacy white curtains around. On the wrought-iron bed slept a pair of people who were about to be married for a second time.

Buffy opened her eyes slowly and tried to stretch out, only to realize that she was being held in an iron grip. She recognized the strong arms draped around her body, she recognized the sexy new tattoo on his right shoulder. It was a gryphon...or something.

The man, of course, was Senior.

No, it really wasn't. It was Angel. Got you!

Buffy continued to stare up at her gorgeous husband, waiting patiently until he felt her staring at him. It always seemed to wake him up, and when Angel finally *did* wake up, he was always blushing. There was something embarrassing about Buffy's gaze, obviously. Finally, Angel opened his dark eyes. He found Buffy staring at him. Embarrassed, Angel buried his face in his pillow.

Buffy placed a hand on his flat back and began tracing the tattoo on his shoulder. "Wakey, wakey, baby. Do you know what day it is?"

"Saturday" was Angel's muffled reply.

"Well, yes, but what else is today?"

"Wedding Day," replied Angel, his voice still muffled and sleepy. His head flew up. "Wedding Day! We're getting married today!"

"Yes, we are," Buffy told him with a grin. She kissed his naked shoulder. "Glad you're up."

"There's more than just me up," said Angel flirtatiously. His eyes travelled downward and when Buffy caught what we was hinting to, she smacked his arm.

Buffy rolled her eyes and stifled a laugh. She glanced downward and shook her head. "I bet." She shook her head and moved to climb out of the king-sized bed. Angel grasped her wrist and dragged her back into the bed. He flipped her on her back and she began to laugh.

"Liam Angelus O'Connor, I don't have *time* for this," Buffy groaned.

"Make time," demanded Angel in a growl.

"And if I don't?"

"I'll just have to punish you."

Buffy laughed and kissed his shoulder. "Show me how bad you are.

*

Senior bounded up the stairs, all ready for the wedding. Of course, it wasn't for another six hours, but he was ready. It was a beautiful day outside, not a cloud in the sky. The caterers were already setting up on the east terrace, the band in the ballroom. Several wedding planners were getting the garden ready for the ceremony, setting up chairs and the like. He pushed open the French doors of Buffy and Angel's bedroom, only to stop dead in his tracks upon seeing them entangled on the wrought-iron bed.

"Holy fucking shit!" shouted Senior. He slapped his hand over his eyes.

"DAD?" asked Angel at the same time as Buffy squawked,

"SENIOR?"

"Not looking…not looking…" mumbled Senior. He stumbled back into the hallway and slammed the door shut behind him. With a groan, Buffy rolled over and began to climb out of bed.

"Damn," she grumbled. She made her way to the shower and slammed the door behind her.

Angel stared at the closed door for a minute. After he heard the shower start to run, he pulled on his boxer shorts and shuffled over to the far table that held a stack of papers. Angel picked up a white folder and opened up. He pulled out a sheet of paper with a photograph on the middle of the page. Smiling to himself, he hid the folder beneath some papers and opened a drawer. Inside the drawer was a set of keys. As Angel was shutting the drawer, he felt a pair of wet arms slide around his waist.

"Hello, sexy," said a hoarse voice from behind him. Angel groaned and leaned back, letting her hold him for once.

"Hey yourself." He paused. "Why aren't you in the shower, baby?"

Buffy stood on her tiptoes and kissed his tattoo slowly. "Got lonely. That shower is way too big…there's too much room in there for just little old me." She slipped a finger beneath the waistband of his boxers.

"Are you suggesting something, Mrs. O'Connor?" teased Angel flirtatiously.

Buffy slipped a second finger beneath his waistband. "Uh-huh."

Angel spun suddenly and swooped down, sweeping Buffy into his arms. "Let's finish what we started." He planted a kiss on her mouth and ran towards the bathroom as if someone had kicked him in the ass. Buffy giggled the whole way.

*

Buffy looked into the mirror, patting her swollen abdomen affectionately. The growing stomach was barely a hint in the beautiful and expensive wedding dress. Her wedding dress was made of ivory colored silk and it stretched to the floor. Trailing behind the dress was an intricately beaded two-foot long train. Buffy's veil was made of the thinnest lace one could find.

For her bridesmaids, Willow and Cordelia, Buffy had chosen crimson satin. The border was lined with tiny black pearls. Both Willow and Cordelia carried bouquets of crimson and ivory roses. Buffy carried a bouquet filled with exquisite crimson roses tipped with black and wisps of baby's breath.

Joyce slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. She found her daughter and bridesmaids eating sliced fruit and tiny candies from a tray.

"Enough of that," Joyce said. Her breath caught when she looked at her daughter. "Sweetheart, you look breathtaking." She glanced at Willow and Cordelia. "Willow, Cordelia, you both look beautiful."

From her purse, Joyce pulled a string of pearls. She fastened them around her daughter's neck. As soon as Joyce had finished securing the necklace, the changing room door cracked open. Senior poked his head in.

"The harpist has just begun the theme from 'Love Story'," said Senior. "It's time for Willow, Cordelia, and Joyce to go on out."

Joyce squeezed Buffy's hand. "All right, Liam. We're on our way out."

Buffy watched as her mother and her best friends went to join their escorts. Oz was escorting Willow down the aisle, which was a long strip of lace stretched down the lawn. Xander, who had just popped the question earlier that day, escorted Cordelia. Cordelia had told him she'd think about it, but Cordy was already planning out her own wedding.

Joyce's escort was perhaps the most surprising of them all. Rupert Giles, a stiff Brit from London, was escorting Joyce down the aisle and to the reception. Giles was Joyce's first love and had returned to Sunnydale the minute he learned that Hank had left Joyce. Giles and Joyce had been together ever since and were becoming inseparable.

Senior was escorting Buffy down the aisle because Hank had vehemently refused to attend the wedding or be any part of it. No one had seen Hank since the day of Buffy's party, and everyone was sure that he and Grace O'Connor would be staying in Tahiti indefinitely. Senior was the only person Buffy could imagine that could take her father's place by her side.

Senior took Buffy's elbow. "Come, my dear, it's time."

Buffy and Senior neared the end of the aisle. The theme from 'Love Story' had abruptly stopped and the Wedding March had begun. Buffy and Senior took their first hesitant step onto the aisle, which was dotted with red, white, and pink rose petals. The wedding guests all turned to face the bride and gasped when they looked upon her. They had never seen a more beautiful bride.

Buffy looked down the long aisle. Cordelia and Willow were waiting for Buffy on the left of the minister. On the right of the minister were Angel, Gunn, and Angel's friends Penn and Wesley from Crawford Prep. Buffy took in a breath as she saw Angel standing there. He had never been so gorgeous, and if she looked into his eyes, she could see the tears shimmering there.

Senior gave Buffy away, and then Buffy took her spot next to Angel. She felt his fingers twine between hers. Everything inside of her seemed to be falling and building, tears slipping from Buffy's eyes even before the minister got to the vows. She repeated blindly what the minister said, hearing but not knowing what words her tongue spoke.

She was startled when Angel slipped the cool diamond wedding band on her hand. A moment later, Buffy felt weight in her hand. She slipped the ring on his finger and looked up at him. Buffy was shocked to find that he was crying more than she was.

The minister turned to face the audience. "May I present to you, for the second time, Mr. and Mrs. Liam O'Connor the Second." Thunderous applause followed the minister announcement. Music began to play and the pair headed out of the garden and towards the ballroom. They had barely made it off of the lacy aisle before Angel had swept her into his arms and kissed her gently.

*

Buffy's feet hurt. Buffy's head hurt. Everything hurt. The six-hour wedding reception was beginning to wear on Buffy. They had spent the night eating, drinking, dancing, and opening gifts. The backseat of the Plymouth was piled high with various gifts. For some reason, they received a lot of appliances. Buffy figured they must not have read the memo, because Senior already had two of every appliance and wouldn't need a third set of anything.

There was one present, though, that Buffy wasn't allowed to open. It was a small silver box with a small silver bow. Angel had tucked it safely by the foot pedals where Buffy could not reach it.

The Plymouth was flooded with intermittent flashes of streetlight. Angel had told Buffy they were going to the airport for a night before flying to Maui, but that was not the truth. In fact, that was the only lie he had ever told her. He turned off on Revello Drive and drove all the way to the end of the street, passing 1630 right up. Angel pulled into a driveway and turned off the engine.

Angel glanced at Buffy and noted that she had fallen asleep, her diamond wedding ring shining in the moonlight above. He kissed her gently and woke her up. He bent down and retrieved the silver box from the foot area.

"Open it," Angel said.

Buffy looked around in sleepy confusion. "This isn't the Westin."

"No, baby, it's not. You can open the box now." He put the box in her lap and flipped on the dome light so she could see.

Buffy slowly opened the lid of the box. She picked up a key ring holding a set of keys. "You bought me keys." Angel grasped her hand and pulled her across the seat and out his door. Buffy protested the whole way.

"I didn't 'buy you keys', baby. Look up."

Buffy looked up. In front of her, standing not twenty feet from her face, was a house. Buffy looked down at the keys and up at the house.

"You bought…you bought a *house*?" Buffy asked, looking down at the key ring.

"You don't like it?" Angel asked, trying not to let his disappointment show.

"No, I don't like it," Buffy said angrily.

Angel felt his heart plummet into his stomach. After all the work he went through trying to find a house by the university, Buffy hated their first home. The first thing out of his mouth was the start of an apology.

"I'm-"

"I love it," Buffy interjected, cutting him off. She draped one arm around his neck and placed the keys in his hand. "Carry me over the threshold. It's tradition, Angel."

Angel picked her up and carried her up the walk towards the small porch. Shakily, he went up the two steps and slipped the key into the door.

"There's not a lot here," Angel said as he held her against him. He reached over and flipped on a light by the door. "Just a bed and a refrigerator."

"And, soon, all of our nifty new appliances. I wondered what was up with all of the kitchenware," Buffy admitted. Angel set her gently on the floor and went out to the car. He opened the garage door and drove the car inside. He opened the side door and walked from the garage, through the kitchen, and into the room where Buffy was still plopped down on the floor.

Angel picked her up off of the floor and took her hand, leading her down the hall to their bedroom, which was at the very end.

"I've already painted the nursery," said Angel. "It's yellow, just like we talked about. Yellow is very neutral, so it's good for a boy *or* a girl." He turned the knob of their bedroom door. Angel reached up and flipped the light switch, bathing the room in pale white light.

The room itself wasn't too bad; it had a definite Irish flair to it. It was white with a claddagh ring and clover border along the ceiling. The drapes stretched to the floor and they were the lightest shade of green Buffy had ever laid eyes on. The bed was their bed from the mansion, Angel explained that the movers had hurried it out after Buffy left for the church.

Buffy reached up for the switch before taking one more step into the room. In the dark, she reached over and took Angel's hand. This was the start of everything right here and now. Before it had been a long game of house, a good round of dress up. This was the real thing, and Buffy couldn't be happier.

*

In the fall, Angel enrolled at U.C. Sunnydale, planning on becoming a history major with a minor in art. Buffy stayed at home, staying true to her promise that she would stay home with the baby until it was old enough to go to preschool. That way, Buffy could dedicate herself to school. She knew if she tried to juggle marriage, motherhood, and school, one of the three would collapse. Buffy had weighed it for about a millisecond and decided that college would have to wait.

In early November, Cordelia and Xander were married. Willow and Buffy were Cordelia's bridesmaids. Cordy and Xander moved to Los Angeles, where Cordy had just accepted a modeling job for Guess? Jeans and Xander would start some vocational studies. They were, however, waiting for the call that Baby O'Connor was being born. They swore up and down that they would be in Sunnydale two hours after Angel or Buffy called.

Xander and Cordelia got that call one-week before Christmas. Angel called them on the way to the hospital. Xander and Cordy knew this because they could hear the wind whipping around the car and Angel cursing and honking. They told Angel they'd be at the hospital to meet the baby if Angel didn't run them into a tree first. Angel didn't think that was very funny. Joyce, Giles, Senior, Willow, Oz, and Gunn were huddled in the waiting room when Cordelia and Xander arrived from Los Angeles.

"Where are they?" Xander asked.

"Just listen, you'll hear Buffy screaming in a minute or two," Gunn said. He motioned towards the doors that were labeled 'delivery room'.

"Is she in pain?" Cordelia asked in alarm.

"No," Oz said. He cocked his head towards the delivery room. "Here it comes."

"YOU'RE NEVER TOUCHING ME AGAIN! DO YOU HEAR ME LIAM O'CONNOR THE SECOND! NEVER! NEVER GONNA GET THAT *THING* ANYWHERE NEAR ME AGAIN, NO MATTER WHAT MOOD YOU'RE IN!" screamed Buffy from the delivery room. "AND YOU'RE SLEEPING ON THE COUCH UNTIL YOU DIE!"

The group in the waiting room had dissolved into peals of laughter, and they weren't able to hear Angel's reply. Maybe that was a good thing.

*

Angel looked down at his sweating wife, who continued to blame him for the labor she was in. Everything seemed to be Angel's fault, and she promptly smacked him in the arm when he tried to speak. So, even though Buffy's iron grip was breaking every bone in his hand, he clenched his teeth and shut up. Even when she gave a *very* detailed description of one of their nights together to the doctors, nurses, orderlies, and every other person in the Western Hemisphere. He swore even the doctor cracked a grin.

The doctor delivering the baby was a sweet Texan named Winifred Burkle. She was extremely calm and patient with Buffy, even with her extremely explicit outbursts. Winifred had made a comment that she'd never seen a patient react *that* adversely to labor.

"One more push, please," said Winifred. She had to shout over Buffy's tirade about not wearing white shoes after Labor Day.

Angel finally spoke. "Do what she says, baby."

Buffy, her voice hoarse, said, "Fine. Then we'll be all done?" She looked up at Angel and through her drugged haze, she saw a golden halo over his head.

"Then we'll be all done and our baby will be here," Angel said.

Buffy gave one push, accompanied by a bloodcurdling scream that could break glass. A moment later, a much shriller scream filled the air. Winifred smiled as she held the newborn in her arms. "Congratulations, Buffy. It's a boy."

"A boy," breathed Buffy. "We had a boy." "What will you name him?" asked one of the orderlies.

"Patrick," said Buffy. "Patrick Doyle O'Connor." She turned to look at Angel. "We have to keep with the Irish thing…"

Angel responded by kissing her forehead gently and gingerly taking his hand from her iron grip. A few minutes later, after the baby was weighed, Winifred placed Patrick in his mother's arms.

"Eight pounds, six ounces. Say hello to Mommy and Daddy, Patrick," said Winifred as she placed the whimpering baby boy into Buffy's arms.

Winifred looked down at the baby and then up at the father, whom Buffy had called Angel. The resemblance between Father and Son was absolutely striking. Patrick was a carbon copy of his father, all except for the nose, which was tweaked at the end like his mother's.

A while later, when Buffy and Patrick had been moved to a different room, their friends and family filtered in to see them.

Angel perched on the bed next to his wife and son, staring down at his wife with pride in his eyes.

"Love's a funny thing, isn't it, baby?" Buffy asked, looking up at her husband.

"It sure is. Love's a funny thing."

"…For your alliance may so happy prove to turn your household rancor into pure love." ---Act II, Scene V, William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet

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