DISCLAIMER: Elizabeth is mine, no one else is (you all know who they belon g to)
TIMELINE: sometime into the future
SPOILERS: a little for ˜To Shanshu from L.A.’
SYNOPSIS: Buffy has to continue on for the sake of her daughter ( no more than that on the advice of another)
DISTRIBUTION: Please take it if you want it (I hope everyone will) just let me know
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Buffy’s POV, Connor never existed, and I know parts are a little vague but I wanted it to sorta be that way
FEEDBACK: Please!!!:) This is my first angsty-type fic attempt
RATING: PG-ish
DEDICATION: Kim, Christen, and Cassia because I forgot to thank them in my last fic and they totally helped me out with it. Laura because of her Lemonheads. Christina for her great encouragement and

interest. It‘s totally appreciated by me.

I look down at my baby girl, and I wonder what he would see looking at her. She has his eyes and his hair and his calm demeanor. I’m so thankful that she’s so much like him. I don’t think I could stand it if she didn’t resemble him at all. When Angel and I got married 2 years ago (only one week after he got his Shanshu and came back to me), he told me that he hoped our children would look like me. I told him if we were lucky they wouldn’t.

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When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted to find the perfect way to tell Angel. I wanted it to be cute and memorable. I wanted it to be like those Ross commercials on t.v. where the mom gives the dad a present and says, “ Happy Fathers’ Day,” and then he realizes what she‘s trying to say. I wanted it to be like that. I spent so much time trying to find the perfect way to tell him that he found out on his own. Willow let it slip out one night at dinner.

When Angel came over to hug me, I burst into tears babbling about how I had it all planned out and now it was ruined. Angel silenced me with a kiss and told me it didn’t matter. That he would always remember this day and that he was completely happy. He kissed me again and said, “ I love you, and I love our baby.” But I still cried telling him it would have been better my way. He let out a small laugh and held me closer.

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Elizabeth is drifting off to sleep now. Willow had suggested I name her after Angel, but I told her Angel had picked out the name Elizabeth Grace and she *had* to be named that. Later, I realized I wanted Elizabeth to have as much of her father as possible, and so I named her Elizabeth Angel Grace.

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Yesterday, I found the letter Angel wrote for her to open on her eighteenth birthday. I knew I shouldn’t open it, but I did it anyw ay. It read:

“ My dearest Elizabeth,

I’m writing this four months before you are to be born. You’re mom is asleep next to me, and I want to bend down and listen to your heartbeat, but I’ll let her sleep. I love you and your mom more than anything . I dream of you every night. I never thought I would be blessed with anything as close to amazing as you.

I’m sure that by the time you read this you will have grown into an incredible young woman. I know that you must be a wonderful big sister by now.

I hope that I’ve been a good father to you. I hope that you know how much I love you. I hope I’ve taught you how to be a good person. You know, your mother is the one who gave me the strength to be the man I am today. I wouldn’t be anything without her. I know having you in my life will cause me to grow even more as an individual.

I can’t wait until the day you are born. I can’t wait to hold in my arms. By the time you read this letter, I’ll have held you in my arms hundreds of times, probably thousands, hopefully millions, and that thought makes my heart swell with love.

I hope this letter didn’t make you cry (or maybe I do). I just hope it made you see how much I love you and how glad I am that you’ve come into my life.

Love Always,
Dad”

I cried the entire afternoon and night after I read the letter. I was such a mess I had to call Willow to come over and watch Elizabeth. I decided to keep the letter. Elizabeth would want it. Angel would want her to have it.

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As I walk up the stairs to put Elizabeth down for her nap, I start to cry, again. I try not to cry around her. I have to be strong for her. I ‘m her mother and her father, now. Angel told me when we first got married that I was stronger than him. That if anything ever happened to him that I would be able to handle it better than he would if anything happened to me. I told him I didn’t want to talk about death when we were just starting out our lives together. I wonder if he was right about me being the strong one; I don’t really feel like it on days like these.

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I have to remember to tell Elizabeth all the small things about her father. I have to tell her about how he developed a taste for Lemonheads and how we would have to travel all over the city to find a place that sold them. I have to tell her how he would read poetry to my belly when I was pregnant with her. I have to tell her about his obsession with the History Channel. I have to tell her how he loved her before he ever knew he would have her.

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I’ve stopped crying now. I go into our room to lie down and take a nap. I still call it *our* room. I’m so afraid of the day when it doesn‘t feel like our room anymore. As I lie down, I hope that I won’t dream of his death. I hope I won’t hear the bullet as it leaves the gun and pierces his heart. I hope I won’t smell the blood on my hands as I try to stop his wound from bleeding. I hope I won’t see the desperate look in his eyes as he slowly dies. I hope I won’t feel the tears on my face or the ringing in my ears from my screams.

As I drift off to sleep, I try to picture Angel with Elizabeth. I imagine him holding her, smiling down at her as she coos. He looks up and smiles at me, I smile back and I feel so content. But as always my thoughts drift from happy to dark. I see myself at Angel’s funeral. I see myself double over in pain as a contraction hits me. I went into early labor at the funeral, but I wouldn’t let anyone take me to the hospital because I wasn’t ready to say good-bye to Angel, yet. Finally, when things got really bad, Xander had to pick me up and carry me to his car.

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I hope I’ll be able to get up when Elizabeth cries. If it wasn‘t for her I don’t think I’d ever get out of bed. But I have to be strong enough to make a future for myself and her. Right now, I don’t see a future. My future was supposed to be with Angel.

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