Part Seven

A sort of drowsy contentment pervaded the lobby well into the evening. The meal had been eaten with great delight from the human members of the group, and with only slightly less relish on Angel's part. Now, more than full, they relaxed in the lobby in full sight of the Christmas tree. Connor had gone beyond drowsy to actually sleeping, curled up with his head in his father's lap. The rest of them just relaxed and for once talked about empty nothings.

Except when Buffy and Angel's eyes happened to meet. Though they said nothing and did nothing to act on it, their eyes weren't so empty. Not empty at all. And every time this would happen, Gunn and Cordelia would exchange knowing looks that the two of them completely missed.

Abruptly, Cordelia yawned. She looked at her watch and sighed. "I should be going home," she said.

Angel looked at her. "Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded, sitting up a bit straighter. "Yeah, I'm sure. Or am going to fall asleep right where I sit."

Gunn stood beside her. "I should go, too," he said.

Angel looked back and forth between the two of them. "Well..." he said at last, shifting Connor from his lap so that he could stand beside them.

"It was a nice evening," Cordelia said at last. "You know...I never really had an evening like this with my family for Christmas. It was always some huge event where I barely saw my parents. This...this was nice."

Angel smiled. "It was," he agreed, walking with the two of them now towards the doors.

Gunn nodded at Buffy as he went to leave. "Nice meeting you," he said. "And the food was excellent."

Buffy grinned. "Thanks. And you too."

Now right at the doorway, Angel hesitated in his farewells. "Are you sure you have to go?" he asked Cordelia in a hushed tone.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said, looking at him sternly. She, too, lowered her voice. "I said it before, and I'll say it again. I'm not your chaperone, Angel."

"I'm not asking..."

Her look cut him off. "Oh, please," she muttered. "You're acting like you're afraid to be alone with Buffy. Personally, I'm a little afraid to have you alone with Buffy. But I'm still leaving."

"I'm not afraid," Angel protested. It sounded a little pathetic to his own ears.

"Sure," she said disbelieving. She gave a small sigh and dropped her voice to a barely audible whisper. "You can't leave it like this," she said. "Whatever is going on between the two of you, if you don't work something out – anything at all – you're going to be miserable for the next month. And miserable to work with. And then Wesley will come back from England to find you all mopey again and wonder what the hell we all did to you."

Angel looked back over his shoulder at Buffy. She was sitting, awaiting his return, watching Connor curled up asleep. "You're right," he admitted.

"About the mopey thing or the working something out?"

Angel gave her a forced smile. "I guess you'll find out in two days, won't you?"

Cordelia gave him a happily annoyed sigh. "Okay, we're going now. We know when we're not welcome anymore," she teased.

"Bye, Cordelia. Gunn," Angel said, his tone laced with amusement.

He stood there for a long moment after the door had closed behind the two of them. Finally, he braced himself, turned, and caught Buffy's eyes. She was standing now, watching him, a serious look on her face.

"She's right, you know," Buffy said after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"Cordelia," she explained. "She's not as quiet as she thinks she is."

Angel nodded, knowing exactly what she was referring to now. "Let's put Connor to bed first," he said softly. "Then we'll talk."

Buffy opened her mouth as if to protest, then nodded instead. Angel knew the feeling. One part of him was in a rush to do exactly as Cordelia had said – work something out between them. The other part of him would just as soon put that discussion off forever. They'd been doing just fine without it thus far, right?

Without a word, Angel lifted his sleeping son. Connor stirred only slightly, making himself comfortable with his head resting in the crook of Angel's neck, and kept right on sleeping. Angel caught Buffy smiling at the two of them. He carried Connor up the stairs to the second floor and into the boy's room, Buffy following the entire way. The toddler only woke up a bit when Angel went to get him in his pajamas; Connor stirred just enough to cooperate with it all, then curled up in his bed fast asleep once again.

Still silent, Angel led Buffy through the door to his own adjoining room. Neither of them spoke until the door between the two rooms was closed to only a crack and they were abruptly the most alone they'd been since the chance meeting several days before.

"Well," Buffy breathed after a moment.

"Well," Angel agreed, but he too could come up with nothing to follow up the statement.

Buffy let out a week grin. "We're not too good at this, are we?" she asked.

Angel smiled shakily back. "No, I guess we're not."

"Pretty pathetic," Buffy said. "Using your friends and son like a safe zone."

"Yeah," Angel agreed.

Buffy shot him an amused look. "You know, this talking and working things out doesn't work so well if all you do is agree with everything I say in the shortest possible sentences."

Seriously, Angel sat down on the edge of his bed. "I really don't know what to say, Buffy," he said slowly.

"I know the feeling," she said, leaning up against his dresser. She swallowed audibly. "Tell me what you want, Angel."

"Buffy...?" he asked, startled and confused by the way she directed the conversation.

She looked at him patiently. "It's as good a place to start as any," she said. "Really...in an ideal situation, forgetting for just a moment all the reasons this conversation has waited so many years, what do you want? Do you want me?"

Angel had to take an unnecessary breath before he could answer. "I want you," he admitted after a moment. "I...I have so enjoyed the last several days. It's been..."

"Nice?" Buffy suggested.

He gave a small chuckle. "What an inadequate word," he said. "But, yeah, it's been nice."

"It has," Buffy agreed. "When we weren't thinking about the past and were just being...I don't think we've ever been so comfortable with each other before." Her voice held a hint of regret.

"I don't think so either," Angel replied. Goodness knows he hadn't been. He'd wanted her before, he'd loved her before, but he couldn't think of a time when he'd just been with her before. "I don't want that to end," he said.

"But it's not that simple," Buffy said.

"No," Angel agreed. "It never has been. No matter how much we've tried to pretend it was."

She nodded reluctantly. "And the longer we're around each other, the sooner it's going to be before we end up in all of those...old patterns again. Putting ourselves through old pain because we want so much...."

Angel couldn't help but look at Buffy in surprise. "You've really thought about this, haven't you?" he said.

"I've had a lot of time to," Buffy replied. "Those times with you were some of my best and my worst, and I wanted to understand why. I wanted to know...so that somehow I could have the good times and not the bad. Even if it wasn't with you."

Angel nodded his understanding. That was, after all, part of the reason he had left. A large part of the reason.

"What about you?" Buffy asked.

Angel sighed. "I wasn't so productive. I spent more time wishing I could be the normal guy that I wanted you to have...but still be able to keep you safe."

Buffy gave him a sad smile. "That's a tall order," she said.

He nodded. "I do know that I don't want another three years to go by before I see you again."

Buffy nodded eagerly back at that statement. "Not just see," she said, "but talk. How did we fall so incredibly out of touch?"

"I don't know," Angel replied.

"I feel like I've missed so much," Buffy said unhappily. "I don't want to miss anymore. Even if...we can't do any more than talk...I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose this."

"I don't, either."

The moment seemed to hold its breath, the very air vibrating between them.

"I still love you."

Their words mingled, both of their voices combining with the same words and the same feelings. Their gazes met with no one between them, no one to roll their eyes at the waves of emotion that crashed in the small room. Never had four words been quite so intense.

Buffy gave a shaky laugh, breaking the moment. "Well," she said uneasily, "now that that's out there...."

Angel met her uncertain smile. "It is," he agreed. Then, he smiled a bit more certainly. "I'm glad it is."

"So am I," she said back. "We will...stay in touch, won't we, Angel?"

"Of course we will," he said quickly.

"And...we will work something out?"

"Yes," Angel said with sincere confidence. An idea dawned on him then, and he looked at Buffy hopefully. "I don't suppose you'd mind a visitor or two in Sunnydale every once in a while..." he suggested.

"You and Connor?" Buffy asked.

Angel nodded.

"New Years?" she suggested.

Angel was genuinely startled. He hadn't been expecting anything so soon. "You mean that?"

Buffy gave him an amused smile. "That depends. Are you coming?"

"I..."

A distressed wail from the next room interrupted Angel's affirmative response. He jumped from his position on the bed and ran into Connor's room barely seconds after the first cry was heard. He found the toddler sitting up in bed, shaking, his stuffed animal clutched to his chest in a death grip. There were tears streaming down his face. Without a word, Angel lifted him from the bed and carried him back into his room.

Buffy's expression was concerned when she saw the two of them enter. "What's wrong?" she asked in a rush.

"Nightmare," Angel said softly, even as Connor continued to sob into his chest. "Is that right?" he asked the boy.

He nodded even through his tears, sniffling a bit into Angel's shirt.

Angel sat carefully on the bed, making little soothing sounds in his son's ear. His sobs began to subside and he wasn't shaking so much. Without being asked, Buffy handed Angel a tissue, and Angel flashed her a thankful smile.

"There," he said, gently wiping the boy's tears from his face. "Is that better?"

Connor gave a little hiccupping sob and nodded.

"You want to tell me what it was about?" Angel suggested softly.

Connor shook his head in a vehement 'no.'

Angel knew better than to push the small boy on what he'd dreamed, especially now that he had calmed down. Chances were he didn't even remember what it was that had upset him so anymore. So Angel just held him, one hand rubbing his back as the very last of his sobs subsided.

Finally, he shifted his son slightly to look at his face. His crying done, he was starting to drift off again. "Okay," he said, "time for you to go back to bed."

That woke Connor back up, and he looked at his father with a pleading expression. "Can I stay?" he begged.

That expression was all it took for Angel to give in. "Alright," he agreed, and Connor clambered from his father's arms to squirm into the covers at the middle of the bed.

Seeing that Connor expected Angel to stay there with him, Buffy pulled away slightly. "I should be going," she said softly to Angel.

He was about to give her a soft farewell, but Connor would have none of that. "Stay!" he demanded. Angel shot her a helpless look as Connor made it absolutely known what he wanted. "You sleep here," Connor said, pointing to the side of the bed on his left.

Buffy complied a touch reluctantly when Angel nodded that it was okay. Once she was lying down, Connor turned his attention to his father. "And Daddy lays here," he said, gesturing at his other side.

Angel obeyed his son's commands, lying on his side facing both Connor and Buffy. Buffy smiled at him across his son, even as she kicked off her shoes and made herself comfortable as well. As Angel watched her, she yawned, then flashed him an embarrassed smile. He smiled right back.

It did not take long for Connor to fall asleep once again. Angel lay there in silence, listening to the boy's breathing until it had become the slow, regular pattern of sleep. Then, once Angel knew that he wasn't going to wake back up, he carefully lifted his son from the bed, flashing Buffy a smile as he went. She returned it sleepily.

Angel was as silent as only a vampire could be as he carried his son into the next room. Tucking the boy back into his bed, his stuffed animal securely in the crook of one arm, Angel couldn't help but spare a moment to wonder at his child. He trusted and loved without question as only a small child could, giving Angel a gift he never thought he'd receive. He kissed his son ever so lightly on the forehead, then padded back to his own room.

The sight he found there only served to warm Angel's heart some more. In his absence, Buffy had fallen sound asleep on his bed. She was snoring very slightly, her head practically burrowing into his pillow. There was a small, contented smile on her face. She looked so peaceful that he could not bring himself to wake her.

Without a word, Angel pulled the covers over Buffy's sleeping form. Then he removed his shirt and shoes and laid back down on the side of the bed Connor had assigned to him earlier and turned off the lamp at the bedside. Smiling in contentment, he lay there watching Buffy sleep until the clock on the nightstand behind her turned to midnight.

"Merry Christmas, beloved," he whispered into the darkness.

And then, he drifted off to sleep with that hazy glow of love and happiness in his heart.

Part Eight

Buffy awoke rested, warm...and with Angel's arm draped around her waist. She smiled to herself. She had not meant to stay the night, but obviously Angel had not minded. At some point during the night, they had both changed position until her back was to his chest, and he held her very gently in his sleep. It had been so long since she had fallen asleep in his arms – back to just before they broke up. His presence always seemed to make a night that much more comfortable and safe.

Something tickled Buffy's ear and she started in surprise. Careful not to disturb Angel, her fingers found nothing but her own hair. Still, less than a second after she pulled her hand away, it came again. Buffy froze at the persistence of it.

Breath?

Gently Buffy lifted Angel's arm from her waist and turned to face him. He slept onward, oblivious of Buffy's growing shocked wonder. His face was perfectly relaxed in sleep, as if he had none of the concern or centuries of guilt that plagued him in his waking hours. A smile touched his lips, his hair was slightly tousled from sleep, and his naked chest...was rising and falling slowly with each breath he took.

Buffy just stared at him in silence. Though Angel occasionally breathed when he was awake, he didn't need to, and so in sleep he always lost that habit to seem even more like the dead he was. For a brief moment Buffy wondered if this might have changed in the years since she'd last seen him sleep, seeking any explanation but the one that screamed hopefully and joyfully in her heart.

With a hand that shook slightly, Buffy reached to gently touch Angel's cheek. He smiled in his sleep, leaning slightly into her touch, and Buffy gasped. Angel had always had some sense of the non-living about him, something that was so him that she'd no longer really noticed it. With his pale, cool skin and his eternal stillness, he was like a beautiful statue that moved and spoke and loved. This...this was warm, and vibrant...and very much alive.

"Angel," Buffy whispered softly. Her voice was slightly awed.

He stirred but did not wake, smiling even brighter. Buffy felt like she was going to cry from sheer joy and wonder at the moment. And he wasn't even awake to realize what was going on yet!

"Angel," she said, still softly but no longer whispering, "please wake up."

His brow scrunched up slightly in confusion before he opened his eyes. He was still obviously not quite awake, even when his eyes finally opened and he smiled radiantly at Buffy. "You're still here," he said a bit fuzzily.

"Yeah," she managed around a throat that suddenly seemed to tight, "I'm still here."

He blinked at her, confused. "What's wrong?" he asked, gradually emerging from the fog of sleep.

Buffy's voice was barely above a whisper when she managed to speak again. "Nothing's wrong," she said.

It was only then that Angel's mind caught up with the wakefulness of his body and realized that something wasn't quite normal about the later. He gasped in shock, sat up in bed, then turned back to Buffy, his eyes wide and wild. "Buffy," he gasped.

She smiled at him, at his dawning realization, and felt one of those tears of joy that had been threatening finally slip its confines to run freely down her cheek.

His smile went wide again, this one eclipsing any that had come before it for sheer joy. "I'm alive," he said.

Buffy nodded, grinning as well. "I noticed," she said.

Happiness and shock seemed to be warring for dominance in Angel's expression. "I didn't..." he started to say, his expression momentarily confused.

"Well, I certainly didn't!" Buffy shot back. If Angel didn't know how this happened, then she hadn't the faintest clue.

He laughed then, openly and freely. Buffy thought she'd seen him laugh before this, in the hours with his son, but it was nothing compared to this. He flopped back down on the bed, joy obviously winning the war over confusion, his eyes absolutely shining with delight. "I'm alive," he said again, a bit softer this time.

Buffy opened her mouth to reply, and Angel pulled her to him in a warm, living embrace. He did not kiss her – for all that she found herself wishing he would at the moment – but just held her close, her head resting on his chest. He felt so warm, so different from how she remembered, with his lungs expanding with each breath and his heartbeat echoing in her ear. She wrapped her arms around him, perfectly content to stay right there.

"I didn't expect this so soon," he said after a moment.

Buffy tilted her head up to blink at him. "But you did expect it?" she teased.

To her surprise, he nodded. "Eventually," he said. "We found this prophecy...."

Buffy couldn't help but laugh slightly at that. "What fun," she said sarcastically. She and prophecies didn't have the best history. But then again, for this she just might have to change her opinion.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Angel said hesitantly.

She just smiled at his concern. "You also didn't tell me about your son," she reminded him, "and I think that was the bigger deal."

He nodded slightly. "I just...thought something major would have to happen before..." He gestured vaguely.

"Maybe this is someone's version of a Christmas present," Buffy suggested. "After all, it's happened before."

Angel chuckled, no doubt remembering as well the bizarre Christmas snow years before that had saved him from the sunlight. "Maybe," he agreed.

"Though that was kind of a 'avert disaster' sort of situation, wasn't it?" Buffy added thoughtfully.

She felt Angel tense beneath her at those words. "What is it?" she asked worriedly.

He laughed slightly. "I have the horrible/wonderful feeling this might have been one of those situations, too."

Buffy was at a complete loss. "What are you talking about?"

Angel smiled down at her and squeezed her shoulders lightly. "Just that, looking back to last night, there is a very real possibility my soul was at risk."

Buffy propped herself up on her elbow to look him in the face. "What in the world do you mean?" she asked. "I mean, we didn't do anything...."

"We didn't have to," Angel said. "Connor was here, with his unconditional love and trust, and you were here...and there was hope, Buffy. I had real hope. Not of anything in particular, but last night, when I went to sleep...I wasn't thinking about what I am, or what I've done. I was only thinking about how lucky I was."

Buffy could not stop herself from smiling vibrantly at his words. If she kept this up, her cheeks were going to ache. "What you were," she said.

"Hmm?"

"You said what I am. You mean what you were," she clarified.

Angel gave a small laugh. "I guess you're right," he agreed.

Buffy just kept right on smiling at him. "Merry Christmas, Angel," she said.

He returned it with a new gleam in his eyes. "Merry Christmas," he said, and pulled her back towards him for a kiss.

"Merry Christmas!"

The bed bobbed for a second as the three-year-old jumped into the fray. Grinning from ear to ear, Angel pulled away from Buffy to grab his son and pull him up towards the head of the bed between them. He tickled Connor until the boy was chortling so hard he was having trouble breathing. "And a merry Christmas to you, rascal," he said. He stopped and smiled at his son. "And what are you doing up so early?"

"Presents!" Connor declared.

"Mmm, well...I don't know...."

Connor wasn't buying into Angel's teasing. The stern look he gave his father was so like Angel that Buffy could barely contain her laughter. "Daddy," he said.

Angel grinned. "We're up," he said, "we're coming."

Angel stood beside the bed, barefoot and shirtless, and Buffy climbed out from under the covers a moment later. Connor stood on the bed, his arms out to his father, obviously expecting to be picked up. Angel complied without hesitation.

Connor made himself comfortable in Angel's arms...and then he pulled away a bit with his face scrunched up in confusion. "You feel funny," he said.

This time Angel did laugh. "Here," he said after a moment. "I have something to show you."

He carried the boy into the bathroom, Buffy following close behind them. There, he stood for a moment in front of the mirror, now showing both of their reflections. It was the first time Connor had seen it. "I'm not floating," he said.

Angel was smiling so wondrously then. It was like seeing his reflection had confirmed that this morning's surprise wasn't just a vivid dream. "No," he said, sounding a bit in awe of the whole set of events, "you're not floating."

He sat Connor on the counter then and looked at him seriously. "Some other things have changed, too," he did his best to explain to the small boy. "I can go outside to play with you now. And I'll have breakfast, lunch, and dinner with you, too. But on the other hand, no more monster face."

Connor looked very thoughtful at that, as if weighing everything and deciding if he was really getting the better deal. It was so adorable Buffy had to smile. "But will you still keep the bad monsters away?" he asked after a moment.

Angel straightened slightly. Buffy could see that he was thinking about everything from that morning, thinking about how he felt and whether he still had what advantages he needed. At last he smiled and looked at his son again. "Yes," he declared, "I can still keep the monsters away."

Remembering their talk from the night before, another thrill of joy went through Buffy's heart. "Just what you always wanted," she said softly.

Angel turned and smiled at her. "Almost," he agreed. His eyes spoke of what else he wanted; what neither of them was ready for and would have to wait.

But there was a chance now. A chance that they really could try for something more and not have an automatic overdose of heartbreak to go with it. So Buffy just met his smile and let him see that she, too, had hope for the future.

Through this, Connor was still thinking. Buffy wondered if he even understood how momentous the occasion was. "Okay," he said at last.

"Okay?" Angel asked gently.

Connor nodded with a grin and held his arms out to his father again. Angel lifted him as easily as he ever had, and the toddler held him tightly, enjoying that new warmth just as Buffy had earlier. "Let's open presents outside!" he declared after a moment.

Angel was already carrying him down the hallway, and Buffy fell into step beside them. Thinking of the cleanup that would be required afterwards – and the fact that neither of the men was dressed and she didn't have her shoes – she said, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

Angel shot her a look that said how much he couldn't wait to go outside, either. And she so desperately wanted to see him there, a place where she had only seen him in her dreams.

"Pwease?" Connor asked again.

Angel smiled tolerantly at his son. "Only a couple," he said as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Connor squirmed then to be released, and Angel put him down. As the boy went to the Christmas tree to carefully pick out which presents were going to come outside, Angel turned his attention to Buffy. His smile was warm and open, as was his hand that he held out to her. Buffy smiled back and took what was offered there. She'd never been so aware of how life felt when it was pressed palm to palm.

Presents in hand, Connor was already waiting impatiently for them at the french doors to the courtyard. "Come on!" he said eagerly.

Buffy and Angel followed him, still hand in hand. They opened the doors as one, watching as Connor ran down the couple of stairs and into the sunlight.

"Come on, Daddy," he said once his presents were scattered around him.

Angel hesitated on the very edge of the sunlight. Buffy squeezed his hand in reassurance, and he turned a hesitant smile to her. She could see him take a deep breath before taking that last step out into the full light of day...and then turn a smile on her that made her think of nothing but a little boy on Christmas who suddenly discovered he'd received a gift that was far better from anything he'd even thought to hope for. A life-changing gift.

Buffy could only wonder that she was there to share that moment with him.

"Daddy," Connor said impatiently, being a very real little boy at Christmas whose presents were being delayed.

Their attention turned to Connor, but never once were Buffy nor Angel unaware of the other. As they watched the toddler who had brought them back together tear into presents with all of the enthusiasm of his age, and thought of all the moments like this they hoped to have in the future, beyond the hotel a radio played Christmas carols just loud enough to be heard. And as the words made themselves known to Buffy's ears, she couldn't help but feel how appropriate they were...

"Good tidings to you, to you and your kin.

We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year..."

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