Chapter 7: GROWING PAINS AND GREAT EXPECTATIONS

Benjamin Finn, whom his friends usually called Ben, was ten years old, not quite sure if girls were nice or not, and loved hanging out with his best friend Jesse Harris. Or he rather had, until six months ago, when Ben's world suddenly changed and he now found himself envying his friend for something he no longer had. A Father.

Not that he had spent much time with Riley. Not really. His father had often been busy, had worked long hours and came home when his younger children were already asleep. And even on weekends when his father was around he seemed to favor his daughters, especially Joyce, Ben's older sister.

It wasn't Joyce's fault, of course, and she was okay most of the time, if she wasn't talking about boys or glued to the phone talking to one of her bitchy girlfriends who seemed to have no other subject than makeup or the latest fashion.

Early in his life Ben had realized that females were completely different from his sex and he remembered telling his father about it. Riley had grinned and stroked his son's head, telling him that he had no idea how right he was. It was those moments between father and son, Ben missed. There would be no more of these moments in the future, no more looking up and then at his friends and saying 'That's my dad.' Riley wouldn't come back. Ever.

With his ten years, Ben was old enough to understand about death. And its finality. He'd seen people die - even if it was only on television. But of course the death of his father had been the first personal experience and he had to admit it was different.

Ben had wanted to talk to his mother about it, but shortly after his father had died, his mother had changed. He hadn't understood it at first, but soon he'd seen that she was drunk most of the time, that her mood changed quickly and that she cried a lot. One morning he had found her almost unconscious on the living room floor and was scared shitless. For one horrible moment he'd thought that after his father died his mother was now dead too. Aunt Willow had heard about the incident and a week later she'd come and taken him and his sisters to her own house, where he was living now. On the whole the house wasn't so bad. He missed his mother though. But Willow and Tara were okay most of the time, as were their daughters. And he was used to his sisters, but it was a pain being the only guy between girls. True, Willow and Tara weren't exactly girls anymore. They were women. Old women. At least in the eyes of a ten year old. For him everyone older than 20 was senile.

And there was another problem that had occurred just recently, and that had nothing to do with his dead father or his drunken mother. Still in the eyes of a ten year old it wasn't any less urgent. The girls had started looking at him. And he didn't exactly know what to do.

Ben was tall for his age, had his mother's blond hair and his father's blue eyes. A combination, girls obviously found rather fascinating. And they had started looking at him. Not just looking at him they way they had before. It was different. Even the older girls were looking in his direction and giggling. And that unnerved him.

None of the girls were looking at Jesse Harris. It wasn't fair, Ben decided. Jesse could go where he wanted and none of the girls would turn her head. He had told Willow about it and the redhead had just laughed and told him that there would come a day when he would be grateful for it. Well, shoot. Maybe he would, but that didn't change his current problem.

"Gina Rollins is looking at you."

At the last possible moment Ben stifled a groan and turned to look as his friend Jesse. "I don't want to hear it," he said defensively.

Jesse giggled and glanced at the twelve-year-old girl with auburn locks he silently adored. When Gina caught him watching her, she made a face and stuck out her tongue. Jesse sighed, "I wouldn't mind if she would be looking at me."

"Then make her look at you," Ben said impatiently, eager to change the subject. "Your parents coming to parent-teacher night next week?" he asked his friend.

"Yeah. Although mom hates it. But dad thinks it's great fun. He said he never enjoyed them when he was a boy." Jesse grinned, "Dad is so old, I can't imagine him as a boy. What about you? Are you... I mean, is your mom coming?"

Ben felt a stab in his heart at the mention of his mother, but he just shook his head, "No, I think Willow and Tara are coming instead. The social worker said they had temporary cust... cust... well, they tell us what to do for a while," he said finally skipping the difficult word. "It's not really bad. I just..." he shrugged, feeling lost the way he had yesteday when Joyce had told him that his mother had been at Willow's house and hadn't waited for him, "kinda miss my mom and-"

"Ben!"

The boy's head flew around and wide eyed he stared at the blond woman standing on the stairs of his school, "Mom?" he said, his voice full of disbelief, then his whole face split into a broad smile and starting to run he shouted, "Mom!" not caring about the curious stares of his classmates or whether the situation might be embarrassing for a ten year old boy.

His smaller body met that of his mother's with an impact and he threw his arms around her waist, "Mom," he whispered, pressing his face close, holding her with all his might. He had to swallow hard as soon as the first emotions faded and tears threatened behind his lids. It was bad enough that his friends had seen him running towards his mother like a five year old, but no way he would start to bawl like a toddler.

"Ben." Her voice sounded gentle and he savored the soft touch of her hand on his hair. It had been so long.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" he asked finally, pulling back, clearing his throat.

"Well, I thought I'd pick you up at school."

"I thought I was going with uncle Xander," he turned slightly, looking at his friend Jesse, "that's what Aunt Willow told me. That Uncle Xander would pick me up." There was uncertainty in his voice when he looked up at her.

"And now I'm taking you," Buffy smiled at him, realizing only now how much she'd missed touching him. "Are you okay with it? 'Cause it means you have to walk."

"'Cause the cops took your driver's license, right?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "They took it because I drove while I was drunk. That's wrong and they had every right to take it away. But I will get it back. In a couple of weeks."

"Uh-huh," Ben nodded, waving to his friend who was walking towards his father's car that had just arrived. Xander didn't get out, just exchanged a friendly smile with Buffy. Willow had informed him beforehand that the blond would come to pick up her son. He had been hesitant, not quite knowing what to expect from Buffy, but the redhead had assured him that the ex-slayer seemed back on track.

"Do you just want to go home or do you want to do anything?" she asked, holding out her hand for him, smiling when he took it eagerly. He seemed to have missed her the same way she'd missed him. For a moment her thoughts wandered towards her oldest child. Joyce didn't seem to be as forgiving as her younger siblings. She was openly hostile and it would be hard to regain her trust again. Quickly she hit the breaks on that train of thought. She was with Ben now and he should get all her attention he'd missed for so long.

"Could I have some ice cream?" he asked hopefully.

Leave it to a ten year old to have his priorities, Buffy thought with a smile, and nodded, "Sure, you can. What kind do you want?"

*

They were sitting in the park now, Ben licking his ice cream and smiling up at her. He seemed utterly content with her presence and the cone of course. Buffy had to smile, "I went to see Marlie yesterday morning," she told her son, resisting the urge to touch his head again. She wasn't sure how much of her motherly affection his ten-year-old pride could take at one day.

"I went with Aunt Tara to see her yesterday afternoon," Ben replied. "She's fine now. She was pretty bad that night. She cried and held her tummy." He stopped licking his ice cream and tilted his head, "Was it really bad? Or did she just cry 'cause she's a girl?"

"No, it's bad," Buffy assured him. His second remark bothered her a little. "Why do you think girls do cry more than boys?"

He shrugged, "They do. Dad said that too."

"Dad said that?" his mother asked, suddenly feeling anger against her late husband. What the hell had Riley told his son? Her son.

"Kind of," Ben amended, "He said they aren't afraid to show their feelings while boys always think they have to be strong."

"Ah," Buffy said on a breath of relief. "And you think that's bad?"

"Dunno," the boy replied, his mouth full of ice cream. "It's kinda embarrassing. Bawling in front of other people. In school, Jesse cried once 'cause he hurt his leg and the others called him a sissy."

"You did too?" she wanted to know.

"Jesse's my friend," Ben said as if it explained everything and it probably did. Ben and Jesse Harris were thick as thieves, had been from the start. They had been born only three weeks apart, Ben being the older of the two, and had bonded immediately.

"That's good," Buffy smiled and this time didn't hold back when she wanted to touch his blond hair. It was so soft, and it reminded her of the day of his birth, when the nurse had put that tiny boy on her stomach. Riley had been there too, and for a moment, one horrible moment she had wished... God, she had to stop doing that. Those thoughts led nowhere.

"Hey mom." Ben's voice pulled her away from heavy thoughts. "Today our teacher said, we all came from Europe once. That all the Americans left Europe many, many years ago and come over to settle here. Is that true?"

"Well, not completely, Ben. They didn't just come from Europe. They also came from Asia, Africa and from South America."

"Oh?" Ben crunched his nose in concentration to consider her words. Then his face lit up, "Yeah. That's true," he said on a nod. "Li Yin, this girl in my class, she's from Asia. Well, not Li Yin. She's born here. But her Grandpa came from China."

"And don't forget the Native Americans," came a deep voice from behind them. Ben whirled around, almost dropping his ice in the process, while Buffy's spine stiffened immediately.

"The Indians?" the boy asked curiously.

"Yes, exactly," the stranger, he'd never seen the man before, sat down beside him and his mom. "They were here long before either Europeans, Asians or whoever came."

"I know that," Ben said. "Our teacher told us they were the natives. They fought against us, because the white man took their land. But now they are just American citizens like we are."

"Yes," the man agreed, smiling. Ben liked his smile. And he liked the stranger's serious eyes and the way he talked to him. Grown ups sometimes tended to treat him like a little kid. This man didn't and that gave him bonus points in Ben's book.

Ben felt himself smiling back and after a short hesitation he stuck out his hand the way his father had him taught to, "I'm Ben. And that's my mom," he added with a nod over his shoulder.

"Hi, Ben, I'm Angel," the stranger replied and took the offered hand to shake it.

The boy had to giggle, "Angel. That's a strange name."

"I've been told that once or twice." The ex-vampire gave Ben his half-grin and Buffy felt her stomach lurch at the sight. "Your mom once said it was nice name."

Ben's eyes widened, "You know my mom?"

"Sure I do," Angel, said casually, "we met quite a while ago," he raised his hands, his eyes meeting Buffy's over the boy's head, "and until a couple of days ago, I thought we were still friends."

Buffy quickly looked away, not able to meet his gaze any longer. Angel sighed inwardly, but shifted his attention back to Ben. "I met your mother when she was just 16 years old."

"Oh?" Ben's eyes widened even more. Looking back and forth between his mother and Angel he tried to do the math. "That's... a long time," he said finally. "Wow. You've known her longer than me."

The ex-vampire had to laugh, "Yeah. You weren't even in the making then."

The boy giggled again. He liked the man who called himself Angel more and more. "Did you go to school together?" he wanted to know.

"No," Angel shook his head, "I was... kind of following her."

"Stalking," Buffy interrupted their companionable conversation. "You were stalking me. That's what we call what you did." With a smirk she added, "Seems you haven't lost that particular skill."

Ben didn't pay attention to the warning note in his mother's voice. Too fascinated by Angel, he asked, "Did you know my dad too? 'Cause he's dead now."

"Yes, I knew your father," the ex-vampire replied, his gaze solemn, "I'm sorry he died."

"Sure you are," Buffy snorted.

Ben shot his mother an irritated glance, not understanding her reaction. Angel narrowed his eyes slightly at the former slayer, but then his eyes were back on Ben, when he went on, "You must miss him a lot."

The boy shrugged, "Sometimes," he said defensively, "Most of the time it's not bad. Aunt Tara and Willow, I live with them at the moment, are okay. Just," he shrugged again, lowering his voice to a whisper he leaned forward, "there are guy-things, you know. And it's kinda... embarrassing to talk to your mom about them."

Angel stifled a grin, "Yeah, I know," he said in the same conspiratory tone.

"You would," Ben replied, remembering his ice cream-cone and munching it, "'cause you're a guy too." He gave Angel a happy smile.

"Ben, maybe you should ask Angel if he's even got the time to talk with you for so long," Buffy said, annoyed by Angel's presence. The man surely was stubborn. And he was sticking to his promises. He had told her he wouldn't go away and there he was, smiling and chatting as if he were her son's best friend.

"Oh, I've got time. I like talking to Ben," the ex-vampire said with a grin.

"Figures," Buffy muttered under her breath, narrowing her eyes at Angel.

"See," Ben turned to his mother, "He likes talking to me. Don't be a spoil-sport, Mom."

"Yeah, *Mom*," Angel said, "Don't be a spoil sport. There are times when guys have to talk together." He shot Buffy a wicked grin and she was tempted to stick out his tongue at him. Bastard.

"There are things, women don't understand," Ben explained, "Guy-things."

Oh sure, Buffy thought, now he's made an ally in my own family. Great.God, what did she have to do, so that Angel wouldn't bother them anymore? Now he was even following her to the park. But she had to admit - although hesitantly - that Ben seemed to like the ex-vampire. And Angel seemed to have a talent around children. Strange, she hadn't thought he would be good around children at all. She suddenly remembered their conversation one night in a graveyard when he'd told her that he wasn't able to father a child. He had sounded so sad then. So maybe he even wanted kids. But with the night surrounding him all the time, she hadn't been able to imagine them around him. But he was good with them, at least he was with Ben. The boy wasn't the easiest with strangers, but with Angel he didn't seem to have any problems.

"I've had a lot of practice with Cordelia's and Wesley's kids," Angel said and Buffy realized that she had said the last thought aloud.

"Oh," a bit startled she looked at him, not sure if she wanted to participate in that conversation. Not certain what she wanted at all. "Yeah, Willow told me she and Wesley were married. I thought it was... rather odd."

The ex-vampire had to laugh, "I thought the same at the beginning. But somehow they seem... right. They have a boy and a girl. They're adopted."

"I see," Buffy said, although she didn't. Of course she knew that Angel was probably close to Cordelia and Wesley. They had worked for and with him for a long time, but the way he was talking about them, was more like family. More like she would talk about Willow or Xander. "You're close," she remarked, hating to feel jealous for a moment.

Angel shrugged, "I guess we are. Cordy's like an annoying little sister." He laughed again, but there was also sadness in his eyes. Was he maybe thinking about his real sister? The one his demon had killed so long ago. "For a while I thought..." he paused, shook his head, "Anyways. Yeah. They're good friends." After another pause, he added warmly, "Family."

Ben followed the conversation of the two adults, munching his cone and watching them. He had a strange feeling in his gut seeing them together. He couldn't explain it, but it was there. It was the first time he saw his mother with a guy except his father, and he wasn't so sure he liked it. Sure, there was Xander. But Xander was Jesse's dad and married to Anya. Angel on the other hand... "Do you have kids?" he asked, interrupting the adults.

"No, I don't," Angel replied, his voice even, but the sadness had come back into his eyes, Buffy noticed. "But Michael's my godchild. He's the boy I was talking about before."

"Your godchild?" Buffy eyed him curiously. She remembered him telling her being human for several months. "How old is he?"

"Almost seven."

So he had still been a vampire then. The ex-slayer thought back to the Cordelia she had known. Queen C certainly wouldn't have made a vampire to the godparent of her child.

As if sensing her thoughts, Angel said, "Cordy practically forced me. She thought I needed some..." he laughed slightly, "real strings to humanity."

"I see," Buffy nodded.

Bored with the fact that the adults weren't paying attention to him, Ben looked at his mother, "Mom, can I go over there?" he asked and pointed at a spot where several boys around his age were playing baseball.

"Of course," she answered, and Ben was gone in a flash. There settled an awkward silence for a while, until Angel cleared his throat.

"I..." he began, pausing again. When she finally raised her head to look at him, he said, "I wanted to apologize. For... how I behaved at the hospital. I had no right to... I never planned to kiss you. And I'm sorry if you think I tried to get attached to your children. Willow told me that Marlie had an appendectomy and Michel was in the hospital once, so... I thought she might be lonely or scared or-"

"It's okay," she interrupted him softly.

"I really didn't-. Did you just say it was okay?"

"I... overreacted a bit, I think," she said, strangely disappointed that he had apologized for the kiss as well. Because after her initial anger had faded, Buffy noticed that it had been a very long time since she'd felt that way. Pushing the dangerous thought aside, she said, "Marlie liked you. And she loves the book." Buffy frowned slightly, trying to find the right words, "I... I had a rough time these few last months and... It's hard."

"I know," Angel said, "I mean, I understand. You loved him very much."

"I did," she replied quickly, almost too quickly. "He was... a good man. A wonderful father and... I owe him a lot."

Angel frowned for a moment at the words she'd used. Hardly the way you would describe a person who you were madly in love with. But he let it go for now, too glad that they were having their first almost civil conversation, that she wasn't just sending him away again. He wouldn't do anything to destroy this. "You were married for almost 20 years. You have three children together. You must miss him."

"I..." Buffy looked at him, suddenly not sure, what to say. She missed Riley. She really did. But... Not willing to go there, she finally settled for, "Yes, I do," although a little voice in her head told another story. Looking at her watch, she gave him an apologetic smile, "We need to go now. I'm going to see Willow later and we're going to the hospital because Marlie is being released today. I'm... taking her home."

"That's good," he replied warmly, smiling as well. Before she could turn and shout Ben's name, he reached out and touched her arm. "Can I... can I see you again? There are not strings attached. I just... want to see you."

"Angel I..." she shook her head, "I don't know. It's..." difficult, she wanted to say, but then she made the fatal mistake of looking into his eyes. And she was lost, "Why don't you come for dinner... tomorrow?"

"I'd love to," he said, his smile now reaching his eyes. "Thanks for the invitation."

"The kids will be there," she replied, not sure if she needed to tell him or herself. "So it won't be... private."

"I don't mind, I already told you. I'd like to meet your kids."

"Okay then," she stood and he did the same. "Six thirty."

"I'll be there."

"I have to go now," she said almost apologetically. "Ben, come here, we have to leave!" she shouted.

The boy nodded and raced towards them. When he reached his mother, he looked at Angel, "Are you leaving now?"

"Yes. You and your mom are going to get your sister at the hospital. But I'm going to see you tomorrow night."

The boy's eyes lit up, "That's great. Bye then."

"Bye," Angel said and he looked at Buffy, their eyes communicating without words.

They turned and walked away from each other, when Ben stopped and turned back, "Angel?" he asked and when the ex-vampire looked at him, he continued, "Do you like baseball?"

"Not really," Angel answered. The boy's face fell, so he added quickly, "But I'm not bad at basketball. So we could play."

"Cool," Ben grinned.

Buffy quirked a curious brow, "You play basketball? Since when?"

Angel grinned. A boyish grin, Buffy had never seen before, and it made all her insides go mush, "I learned a thing or two over the years. And not just about basketball. You'll see. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Tomorrow," she replied and watched his back when he walked away. When she felt a tugging on her sleeve she looked down at her son, "What?"

"Angel's neat," he said, and then started to walk towards Willow's house.

Buffy stared at the head of her son for a while before she followed him and stifled a hysterical laugh the very last moment. Had she really invited Angel for dinner? She had to be nuts. Well, it wasn't something romantic, she told herself and tried to push the upcoming guilt away. Just a nice dinner, so that Ben could talk and play basketball with his friend.

Yeah, sure. And elephants could fly.

Chapter 8: TENTATIVE STEPS

When Angel finally stood in front of Buffy's apartment door, he couldn't remember having ever been so nervous before. It had started with the right choice of clothes, something Angel usually didn't have a problem with, but all of a sudden he found himself rummaging through his bag, trying to figure out what was appropriate to wear to a dinner with a grown up woman and her kids.

In the end he'd called Cordelia and clenched his teeth at her uncontrolled laughter. He'd gotten so annoyed that she had managed to calm down enough to assure him he was fine no matter what he wore. "Angel," she'd said, "Relax. Buffy might not be older than you, but I'm sure she looks older. She will be much more concerned about how *she* looks."

He'd muttered then that Buffy looked fine and a groan had been his answer. He had to grin, imagining Cordelia rolling her eyes at his comment. "You're blind where Buffy is concerned. You always were. Remember that night when she showed up after slayage at the Bronze? She looked really... well, I'm not even going to comment on it. Let's just say, I was ready to hit you when you couldn't stop talking about her the whole night. And *I* bought you a Cappuccino and had to listen to your tales of wonderful, beautiful Buffy."

They'd laughed on the phone and Cordelia had assured him again that he'd just dress the way he usually did and he would be fine.So here he was wearing dark slacks and a white shirt with a dark jacket. No tie though. He hated ties and the few times when he had to wear one professionally had been torture enough. Besides, Cordelia had once mentioned he wasn't the type for ties and tonight he wanted to look his best.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for the doorbell and rang it. Only a moment later he heard fast footsteps as if someone was running towards the door. It opened and he was looking into Ben's face and Marlie was peaking at Angel from the back. "Hi," the boy beamed, then grimaced when he heard his mother scolding him for just opening the door. Then Buffy appeared behind her children and Angel forgot how to breathe for a moment.

She was a vision. Or maybe it was just him. It wasn't that she was dressed up or something. She wore red slacks and a white blouse, both protected by an apron because she was obviously cooking. It had to be the heat from the oven that had made her face all flushed and glowing. Just the way it probably would in the aftermath of lovemaking and Angel felt slightly more aroused than he should be.

"Hi," she greeted him and smiled. It was the first really genuine smile she'd given him and he felt his insides flutter.

"Hi," he returned the greeting, then looked down at the kids. "Hey, Ben. Marlie. Good to see you."

"Come in," Buffy invited, ushering the children inside to make room for him. "I'm sorry," she apologized, leading him inside, "the food isn't ready yet. Ben and I had a little discussion about how to make his room presentable. We... uh... let's just say our ideas on how it should look in the end were slightly different." She gave her son a sideways glance and he grinned.

Angel had to hide his own urge to grin, "I see," he said instead and followed her towards the kitchen. Without looking at him she went for the oven to stir what looked like some sauce.

It took him by surprise to see her like that. The Buffy he had known was a slayer, a girl fighting evil, strong in body and soul and to see the woman, she'd become, doing something as simple as cooking, was... well, he had to admit, it was amazing. Maybe it was his 18th century upbringing, but he wasn't sure, maybe it was just so completely unexpected to see that side of her, the fact that she was a mother and was caring for her family.

Obviously she had sensed his surprise, because she turned around and asked, "What?"

"Uh... sorry?"

"You were staring at me," she explained, "So I was wondering about the reason. And I would appreciate if you wouldn't say it was because you hadn't expected me to grow that old," she joked, but the lightness she tried to give her voice, was betrayed by the anxiousness in it.

"No," Angel said quickly, leaning against the doorway, "it's just that... you and cooking, it's not something I ever thought about."

"Uh-huh," she replied and he heard the amusement in her voice. "Angel. I have three children. Of course I have to cook. Joyce doesn't eat a lot usually. She's like all teenagers, always afraid she'd gain a pound, but Ben is a completely different matter." She looked back again and grinned, "Talking about the kids," she said and nodded towards a spot beside Angel.

When the ex-vampire turned his head, he saw Ben and Marlie standing beside him, their heads tilted upward, watching him. "Hey, you two," he said and crouched down to be eye to eye with the little girl. "How are you? All better?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded and grinned, "I gotta go home yesterday. With Mommy." She said the last word with so much force that Buffy felt tears sting in her eyes. But she firmly pushed the guilt away. There was no use in dwelling over what happened for the last six months. She had to look forward, not blame herself for her mistakes. They were done and all she could do was move on and try to make up for what her children had missed for a while.

"That's good," Angel smiled at her. He reached out and gently touched the spot above the place where her appendix had once been. "And it doesn't hurt anymore?" he asked.

"Uh-uh," she replied, shaking her head. "But I have to go back and get the switches out."

"You get the stitches out," Ben interrupted with the wise voice of the older brother. "Next week she has to go back, but only for a little while and she can come back the same day," he added quickly, seeing that his sister's lower lip had started to tremble. At his last words her face lit up though.

"Yeah," she agreed and because the ex-vampire was standing again, she tugged at his sleeve, then looked at her mother, "Mom, can I show Angel my room?"

"Sure, go on. But ask him first, if he even wants too," Buffy replied with a smile.

"Do you want to?" Marlie looked up at Angel, her eyes round and pleading, so that the ex-vampire's insides went to mush. How could you look at the little girl and not immediately fall in love?

"Of course," he said and smiled, holding out his hand for her and she took it eagerly, pulling him towards her room.

Ben followed slowly and grumbled, "It's just a girl's room."

"It is not," Marlie shot back, pulling Angel a bit harder with her.

"Is too," her brother replied, irrationally jealous about the way his sister had gotten the man's attention.

"Well, it has to be," Angel tried to mediate between them. When Marlie stopped and looked up at him, as did Ben, he continued, "Marlie is a girl. Of course it's a girl's room. It wouldn't make much sense if it was a boy's room, would it?"

Marlie brightened instantly, then stuck out her tongue at her brother, but beamed at Angel, "I'm a girl," she confirmed proudly. "Now come on," she urged. "I got some new stuffed animals. Uncle Xander brought one and aunt Tara and..." her voice faded when she went for her room, Angel in her tow.

Ben stayed in the hallway listening to their conversation for a moment, and then he turned and went for his own room. Maybe he should change one or two things and then, when Angel was through with his sister he could come and see his room next.

*

Buffy smiled to herself seeing her children with Angel, and then paused for a moment, stunned. She hadn't felt a second of guilt at the picture. Angel was in her apartment, charming her kids, Riley's kids, and she couldn't help but be enchanted by the picture. She knew there had to be many reasons why this was wrong. Yet, she couldn't help but feel it was right. It felt right.

"It is right. Why shouldn't it? They like him a lot and why shouldn't they. He's charming. And good looking."

Buffy almost jumped out of her skin, and without turning she knew who had talked to her, "Mom," she said, a bit accusingly. "You have to stop doing that. You might not believe it, but those surprises can cause heart attacks." She turned then and spotted the ghost of her mother floating in the doorway.

Joyce waved an impatient hand, "Nonsense," she said. "It's not your time yet. Not by a long shot." As if suddenly realizing what she'd revealed, she shook her head, "You look better," she remarked then.

"Thanks," her daughter said ironically, "I suppose that's meant to be a compliment, although after the way I looked the last times you came, I'm not quite sure."

"It wasn't a compliment. Just an observation. And I can see you haven't started drinking again.""No, I haven't," Buffy, confirmed. "Although the urge is there. All the time."

"Of course it is," Joyce said gently, floating inside, settling at the edge of the kitchen table. "I'm glad you jumped over your shadow and invited him for dinner." She saw her daughter raise a brow and asked, "What?"

"I thought you could read my thoughts," Buffy replied, turning back to her oven.

"Only if I choose to," her mother said. "And I'm only doing it if I think it's necessary."

"Oh, I see," the younger woman said sarcastically, and then sighed, not willing to fight with her mother tonight. "It's just," she gestured with the wooden spoon she was holding in her right hand, "you never liked Angel. Back when you were alive."

"That's not true," Joyce defended herself. "The problem was, I was your mother and you were barely 16 when you first brought him to our house. You have a daughter at the same age now. How would you feel if she brought an older man to your apartment you didn't even know she was seeing?"

Buffy grimaced, "Point taken," she said.

"And then, when I knew what you were and what he was," Mrs. Summers sighed, "I had a hard time accepting the fact that you had that sacred duty and that I couldn't protect you the way a mother is meant to. You have no idea how hard that is," she paused for a moment, and then added thoughtfully, "Or you probably have now."

"Yeah," her daughter replied, "I probably have."

"But coming back to your initial question," Joyce went on. "I actually liked Angel. I thought he had very good manners. And a man as good-looking as he is would charm any woman in her right mind. He was even a charmer when he was what you call evil."

"Mom!" Buffy exclaimed staring at her mother with a mixture of horror and amusement. "I can't believe it," she muttered then, turning back to the oven. "I'm discussing Angel's looks with my mother. Gee, I'm discussing with my mother. My mother who died 20 years ago." She shook her head and concentrated on stirring the sauce.

"Who are you talking to?"

Buffy jumped and turning, she found Angel standing in the doorway again. The ghost of her mother, though, was gone. She stared at him for a moment, then caught herself, "I... uh... just to myself," she managed finally. "It's a bad habit, I know, but," she shrugged, "it helps sometimes."

To her surprise, he nodded, "It does."

"Where are the kids?" she asked.

"In their rooms," he grinned. "After thoroughly inspecting Marlie's and being introduced to all her pets and toys," he laughed when he heard Buffy groan. "It wasn't that bad. She's charming. You have a wonderful daughter."

"Thanks," she said softly, and smiled at him.

"Anyways. After that, Ben insisted on showing me his room as well. So I did. He showed me his electric train."

"Ah," Buffy nodded knowingly. "And you managed to escape that soon?"

He laughed again, and Buffy couldn't help to be amazed by the change in his attitude. Yes, he was still the Angel, she knew. But he was different as well. And it intrigued her to know more about this amazing man who had managed to capture her heart in a dark alley behind the Bronze so many years ago. Shocked about her own thoughts, she stiffened and turned back to her cooking.

Angel sensed her withdrawl and for a moment wondered what had caused it, but answered her question lightly, "He's looking for his basketball now," he said. "I promised we would play. If that's okay with you?"

She didn't dare to look at him, "Sure," she just said. "He's going to love it."

The ex-vampire watched her thoughtfully, not quite sure how to go on from there. She was suddenly far away, completely out of his reach, where she had been friendly and open only seconds ago. Fortunately he was saved by Ben's arrival, the ball tucked firmly under his arm, he looked at Angel expectantly. With a last glance at Buffy's back, the ex-Vampire nodded at the boy and two went down to the street.

*

"I couldn't help but notice that Joyce wasn't around," Angel remarked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

He and Buffy were sitting beside each other on seats in the living room. Dinner had been noisy with Ben and Marlie chatting all the time, so that the fact, that their mother had hardly spoken a word, had almost gone unnoticed.

Almost.

Angel of course had noticed it and kept wondering what had happened or what he had done or said to cause the change in her attitude. He was desperately trying to find a way to loosen her up again, but it had been in vain. After dinner, she and kids had cleaned the table, refused to let him help because he was the guest, and when the kids were safely tucked in their beds, she had politely asked him if he wanted a cup of coffee.

He'd been inclined to refuse, sensing that she wasn't comfortable about the thought of being alone with him again, but the urge not to leave her the way she was at the moment, tense and stiff, had made him accept it.

She looked up quickly now, and then turned her gaze back to her coffee, "She... decided to stay with Willow and Tara." She shrugged, "It's no big deal, really. She's almost grown up. If she wants to stay with them..." she trailed off, shrugged again.

Angel's heart clenched painfully in his chest, feeling her pain like it was his own. She had tried to sound relaxed about the fact that her daughter had refused coming home. But Angel felt how hurt she was, that her daughter obviously didn't trust her anymore. For a parent, he assumed, that had to be almost the worst punishment.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, meaning it with all his heart. And a part of him, maybe the part that was still vampire, although he was thoroughly human now, wanted to get the teenager and punish her for causing her mother more pain. Buffy had gone through a lot recently, hell, all her life, and in Angel's eyes she earned all the happiness she could get.

"Thanks," she glanced at him again. Then in an attempt to change the subject, she said, "You've changed." She gestured at him with a self-conscious smile, "Not on the outside, but... I can feel it. You're lighter."

"Comes with the daylight, I suppose," he replied.

"You seem not to blame yourself anymore," she said, "Before, you know, when you were still a vampire, you almost beat yourself up with guilt. I can't imagine that changing just because you're human all of a sudden. Something must have happened."

He smiled when he saw her looking at him expectantly. Gradually she was coming out of her shell again, "I've given the whole thing a lot of thought over the years, Buffy. I know that Cordelia or Willow or even you thought it was easy. With a soul I was good, without," he shrugged, smiled a bit sheepishly, "not. But it's much more complicated. Darla once said that the same love or hate that was with us while we were alive was with us as vampires as well. And it's true up to a certain point. Although not completely.

"I believed it for a while. She could sound very convincing at times. But I had to remind myself that she was a vampire herself when she said it. So her sight of things was... biased, at best. With the soul, the conscience is gone. The caring is gone. And there can't be love without caring for another person. So it isn't love that stays with a vampire it's... lust, or rather passion. It's often more intense because it's unrestrained."

"You mean there's no guilt," she asked, listening intently.

He nodded, "Yes, that's right. No guilt. And with this, as a side effect so to speak, the caring isn't needed. A vampire doesn't care what another person, another vampire thinks of him. It isn't important, because another person's feelings are of no consequence for him. At least, as long as it doesn't concern himself.

"I once told you, it's an easy way to live. And it is. It's carefree. A vampire doesn't even think about death. Not its own anyway. There's no fear, no love, no guilt. It's even lower than the lowest animal because they at least care for their young. They care for their group or their partner too in some species. The vampire doesn't. Yes, he cares for his sire, but in a very twisted sort of way. It's like an invisible bond, but believe me. If his life was in danger he would sacrifice the sire in a flash. And he wouldn't think about it twice.

"But as I said before. There are emotions ruling a person, or the demon that invades the person after one is turned. And the more issues a person carries around the more vicious the demon gets. With a soul those issues, those emotions are controlled. They might brake through now or then, but still," he stopped for a moment, considered his next words. "I had a lot of issues. Especially with my father. So it was no wonder my demon went after my family, my village, first. I needed a long time to get rid of the feeling that if I hadn't resented my father, my demon wouldn't have gone after him."

Almost unconsciously Buffy reached out and put a hand on his arm, "Angel-" she started, but he shook his head.

"No. I've come around. I've accepted that it wasn't just my fault. My father made mistakes too. But by killing him my demon took all his chances to maybe change his ways and see his errors. I will never know if we would've found a way to forgive each other. But I know that I can't go on living with this kind of uncertainty inside of me. I finally accepted the fact that some issues in life have to stay unresolved. You have to move on sooner or later."

She pulled her hand back, took her cup instead, as if to need something to prevent herself from reaching out again. His words held a lot of truth. Some of it was hitting a little too close to home for her comfort. Still, her face wore an expression of amazement, "You've come a long way, haven't you?" When she saw him smile, she smiled back, "It's... good," she said tentatively. "I always wondered how you might be without carrying all this guilt around."

"Oh, don't think that," he replied, putting his cup down. "The guilt is still there. I just found a way to live with it, and not to let it rule me anymore. It doesn't go away. No matter how hard you try. But you accept it as a part of yourself. Or at least that's what I did."

She felt his eyes on her when he said it, knew that he was watching her intently. Oh God, she thought in panic, putting her cup down, afraid she'd drop it, her hand was suddenly shaky. Had he guessed it? Did he know? And why shouldn't he, who knew more about guilt than Angel. Never in her life she had met a more sensitive person, or a person who could look through another in a second. And he knew her. He could probably guess...

"I'm sure Joyce will come around."

Her head jerked up and after staring at him for a moment, she released a pent up breath, desperately trying to hide the panic that was threatening to consume her. "I hope," she managed and tried to smile.

"Buffy," he began, his eyes intense, and she felt the sudden urge to run and hide from him. Then he seemed to consider the situation for a moment and took a deep breath, "I think it's late. Maybe I'd better leave."

"What?" She stared at him as if she wasn't able to comprehend.

"It's after ten," he said gently, "After all you've been through you need your sleep."

She laughed a bit too brightly, but nevertheless grateful he had changed the subject, "Is this a nice way of saying I don't need any more wrinkles?" she joked.

"Of course not." He seemed so honestly shocked by her words that she had to smile and this time it was genuine. "You must know that you will always look beautiful, no matter what."

She felt warmth spread through her whole being at his words, but pushed it away, still too much in turmoil about her mixed emotions. "Hardly the compliment I was fishing for," she joked again. Then sighed, "Oh, well, it will have to do." She stood and he did the same. Escorting him to the door, she said, "I'm glad you came."

"Me too," he replied warmly, and she knew he meant it. "Maybe we could do it again. Some day. Maybe lunch... if you want," he asked cautiously, feeling almost breathless waiting for her answer.

"I..." again, as she had done it in the park, she seemed to think about her answer for a moment. In the end she smiled, "Yes, I'd like that," she said and opened the door for him.

He stepped out, then turned and caught her hand in his. Slowly he pulled it toward his mouth and when his lips were merely inches away, he whispered, "I can hardly wait." Then he kissed it, softly, his lips lingering a bit longer than necessary. When he finally let go, his voice was hoarse, "Sleep tight," he said, turned and was gone.

With a little sound of distress Buffy closed the door then just stood there and pressed the hand he'd just kissed against her cheek. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. When she opened them again, a tear slipped from her eye and tickled down her cheek. Without a doubt she knew that sleep wouldn't be something she'd find tonight.

Go to Part 9