DISCLAIMER: I own absolutely nothing in regards to the characters and/or concepts regarding “Angel”. This was done for fun and to help me regain my sanity. For those of you who know me, YES, I really, really once was sane.
DISTRIBUTION: “I Offed Xander” list. Land of Denial. “BA Adult” List. Fanfiction.net. If anyone else has a burning desire to post this somewhere, please talk to me.
RATING: Oh, well, it might be a bit bloody…< weg >…let’s give it an “R” to be safe.
PARINGS: There’ll be pares. Oh yes, there will be pares.
TIME PERIOD: I stopped watching “Angel” after “Dad” because I JUST COULDN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE. So, let’s say, “After ‘Dad’.”
A.N.: I started a list about ten days ago on ways I’d like to see Connor die. For some reason, this struck a chord in my housemate and at least three of the people I correspond with. I don’t really mean that I want babies to die horrible, tragic deaths, just that I despise a certain Widdle Plot Device that just typified, to me, what’s wrong with this season of “Angel”. If you LIKE this season of “Angel”, I’d strongly suggest you find some other story to read.
A.N. 2: If you are as much of a Geek as I am, you might recognize some of the throwaway references I have in this story. Kudos to you! Now, GO OUT AND GET A LIFE!
DEDICATION: To Aurora, who sent me Saturn Girl’s challenge. To Saturn Girl, for posting the challenge. To Flippy, Peygan, Smurfette and D.M. Evans, for many, many ramblings about how this season of “Angel” blows.

The fog broke slightly when Angel realized he was sitting in front of a television with Gunn, watching “The Jackie Chan Adventures”. Something wasn’t quite right here, he thought with a shake of his head. He glanced at Gunn, a hint of surprise blossoming when the young man slapped his arm with the back of his hand, pointing at the screen and saying, “That Jade. Man, she reminds me of what Cordy must’ve been when she was a girl.”

Angel looked back at the screen, seeing the little girl character arguing with one of the older characters and wondered what he was doing. He didn’t watch cartoons. He didn’t watch television. He didn’t even own a television. He read books. Lots of books. An incredible assortment of texts and references and poetry and plays and fiction and newspapers and magazines and this bright, cheerful, sarcastic voice broke into his memory with, “If you and Giles ever put your collections together, California would sink into the ocean. Just like they say.” Angel blinked, wondering where that came from. Who’d said that? The voice sounded so familiar. So…dear. He frowned, thinking that the voice was important. There was something about the voice, the speaker, something he knew he should remember.

“Someone wants his bottle.”

The sing-songy voice jarred him from his thoughts completely and Gunn said, “Man, for a creature of the night predator-type, you sure are jumpy.”

Angel found himself agreeing with Gunn. He should’ve noticed someone coming up behind them. It was part of being a predator, being aware of one’s surroundings. The sweet scent of vanilla musk overlaid with a hint of flowers and baby powder drifted into the room, an announcement of epic proportions. And he hadn’t noticed. What the hell was wrong with him? Then he saw the pair, a woman with short hair going blond, holding a baby expertly in her arms. She offered the baby to Angel as well as the bottle she’d had tucked next to her skin.

“Here’s Daddy, precious,” Cordelia said, leaning over to hand Connor to Angel, showing a fair amount of cleavage as she did so. Angel couldn’t help but get an eyeful and promptly thrust back the thoughts that came into his mind, of his fingers gently stroking that tanned, supple skin. Instead, he accepted his son, firmly turning his attention to the baby and Connor’s needs. His own needs would wait.

* * *

“Bill. Bill. Bill. Junk mail. Bill. Oooh, package!” Cordelia smiled in delight at the nicely wrapped, somewhat heavy box as she carried the mail into the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel.

“Package?”

“I swear, you have the ears of a bat.”

Angel touched his ears with his fingertips, giving Cordelia a hurt puppy look. “You think my ears are big?”

She scrunched up her face at Angel. “Bills,” she said, handing those over first. “Electricity, water and sewage, mortgage-slash-rent payment, hey, are you actually buying this place,” she waved the envelopes to indicate the hotel, “or are you renting it? Inquiring minds want to know.” She dumped the rest of the bills onto his desk along with the package and took up residence on the corner of it. “I mean, one month, I think you’re buying; the next month, you say you’re renting this monstrosity.”

“Why do you want to know?” Angel swept the bills into the desk drawer and out of sight for the moment.

“Oh, you know,” Cordy said, swinging her legs. “Just…thinking of your portfolio.”

Angel frowned at her but before he could say anything, she pushed the package towards him. “Open this,” she all but ordered, “I wanna see what’s inside.” She beamed at him as Angel followed her instructions. “Maybe it’s a lot of money, from a rich benefactor.” She leaned over the desk, clutching her hands together in excitement as Angel tugged off the bubble wrap surrounding the whatever it was. He popped a few of the bubbles and she rolled her eyes. “Come on, come on, get on with it!”

Reluctantly laying aside the bubble wrap, Angel held the plate-sized thing in his hands. “I don’t think it’s money.”

“Jewels. Jewels are good.”

“Jewels?”

“So we could sell them.”

“And have more money for Connor.”

“Or have more money to help people.”

Angel shook his head, his finger not quite touching the still-visible stain near Cordelia’s neckline. “Or maybe a new wardrobe for you.”

Cordelia smiled slightly and ducked her head. “That’s sweet but our mission is to help people. Remember?”

“You’re right.” He didn’t have to add on the “as always,” it was implied in the warm expression in his eyes.

“Okay. So what is the whatsit?” Cordelia waved her hand at the thing.

Angel finished unwrapping it and lifted the round thing out of the tissue paper that had protected it from the bubble wrap. “This is,” he said, carefully turning what reminded Cordelia of some stupid metal doughnut, or maybe a steering wheel for a clown car. “Do you know what this is?”

“A metal doughnut?”

Hefting the doughnut thingy, Angel shot her a look of something akin to exasperation. Cordelia glared back. She didn’t like seeing that expression on his face again. She’d gotten used to its absence. “Well, that’s what it looks like,” she huffed.

“It’s a glaive,” Angel said, giving the doughnut the same moony expression he reserved for Connor (and, some time before, for little blonde Slayers but that was beside the point, as far as Cordelia was concerned). Except Connor was cute and that…metal doughnut was a metal doughnut.

“Glaive, right,” Cordelia said, hopping off the desk, bored already.

“You know, like the movie ‘Krull’?” Angel asked, obviously disappointed that she didn’t recognize the reference. “Except that the one in the movie was designed more like a Dajekawn throwing dagger. See, the Dajekawni have a weapon that resembles the Celtic triskale.”

“Seltic,” Cordelia corrected.

“Celtic,” Angel responded. “The Celtics are a basketball team with an “S”, the Celtics with a “K” are a race of peoples that are now mostly confined to the British Isles.”

“Whatever.” Cordelia flounced back towards her desk, her expression brightening. “Oh, Fred! And Connor!” She hurried around the counter to meet the pair descending the staircase. “How’s my little man?” She tickled his bare foot. Connor kicked at her, shoving his fist into his mouth and gurgling. “How’s my widdle bitty man?” “He likes you, Cordelia,” Fred said shyly.

“Well of course he does,” she said. “Connor wuves his aunty, doesn’t he? Yes he does, yes he does! AIGH!” She swatted at Angel, who’d appeared at her side. “I didn’t expect you!”

“Nobody expects the Scourge of Europe!” Angel said, showing his teeth.

“Aigh!” Cordelia dashed off, Angel chasing after her. “Ew, vampire! Scourge of Europe! Aigh!”

Fred shook her head at their antics, carrying Connor around behind the counter to the desks. She spotted the teething ring that Angel’d left on his desk and picked it up. It seemed a little heavy for a baby but Connor reached for it enthusiastically, so she let him have it, taking most of the weight herself. “Look at your mommy and daddy playing,” she cooed, holding the baby so he could see.

“Oh, I say,” Wesley said, wandering up, “what is going on?” He screwed up his face as one of Cordelia’s more piercing screams echoed around the lobby.

“Just a normal day,” Fred said, smiling. “I guess. Is it like a normal day?”

“I’m afraid I don’t remember what normal is anymore.” Wesley removed his glasses and folded them carefully. “Fred, what is that thing Connor is chewing on?”

“It’s a teething ring,” Fred said. “I’ve never seen one made of metal, but…”

“Fred, that’s not a baby toy,” Wesley said, his eyes widening in alarm. “That’s a glaive! Get it out of his mouth before—“

The boom rocked the Hyperion, wind whipping around the lobby, scattering bubble wrap and tissue paper and files in a flurry of paper and plastic. Cordelia shrieked and dropped to the ground, covering her ears. Angel squinted his eyes up, trying to see into the pulsing crimson light that appeared in the center of the room. Wesley automatically grabbed Fred, adding his slight weight to hers as ballast.

“Too late!” Wesley said.

The thing in the center of the Hyperion was over ten feet tall, with horns stretching out from the side of its head at least three feet to either side. His wide, smiling mouth was full of teeth, four of which extended outside his lips in pointy fangs, brilliant white against the crimson of his skin. His torso was humanoid but from his waist down, he had the body of something…else. A long, snaky tail lashed around and he turned his head, a slow, graceful movement. “Ssssoooo,” he said, his yellow eyes lighting on Fred, “you called me forth.”

“Oh, no!” Fred said, shaking her head violently. “I never called anyone. Well, not by any incantation or by mathematical proportions or even by reciting a charm.”

His long arm reached out, the pointed black nails on the ends of his fingers pointing towards the bundle in her arms. “Your fluids are on my glaive,” he said.

“Fluids?” Fred shot a wide-eyed glance down at Connor and back up again. “You mean…no, I thought…it’s a teething ring, for the baby.”

The demon shrugged his massive shoulders. “Ignorance is no excuse,” he said. “Bodily fluids touch the glaive, I am invoked. Should have read the fine print.”

“Fine print?” Wesley asked, drawing himself up.

“On the glaive.”

Angel sneaked past Cordelia, managing to get to the weapons cabinet without being seen. There were no good weapons in the cabinet, nothing with the reach he’d need to face off against this demon.

“There is no fine print on the glaive,” Wesley snapped. He gently pulled it from Connor’s mouth. “It’s a perfectly good…er, wait,” he slipped his glasses back on and tilted the glaive into the light. “Umm. I do apologize, there does seem to be something scratched into the surface.”

“Exactly,” the demon said. “Now, girl, come with me and we’ll be off.”

“I don’t think so.” Angel thrust himself between the demon and his friends, a heavy axe in his hands.

Eyebrow raising, the demon studied the vampire. “What are you going to do with that?” he asked.

“Protect my friends.”

The demon sighed. “I suppose you’re challenging me, then,” he said, sounding decidedly bored.

“To get to them, you’ve got to go through me.”

“All right, all right, fine, have it your way.” The demon swung his heavy head from Angel to Cordelia, who’d also plucked a weapon from the cabinet. “What about you? Are you going to get in on this, too?”

“No! Cordelia, get back. This is my fight,” Angel shouted.

“They’re my friends, too, Angel,” Cordelia said, gritting her teeth and moving towards him.

“Angel?” The demon’s face lit up. “As in, the Scourge of Europe turned white hat?” He offered Angel a very broad hand. “It’s a real pleasure. We’ve heard a lot about you. But what’s with this?” the demon went on, releasing Angel’s hand to gesture towards the room. “Aren’t you supposed to be fulfilling some destiny rather than opening a day care center?”

Wesley thought he’d never get used to demons using twenty-first century vernacular if he lived to be a century. Angel, he could understand. But a creature that resembled Old Scratch himself shouldn’t be allowed to use phrases like “white hat.”

“I am,” Angel said.

The demon’s lip curled, revealing a few more of his pearly whites. “Uh, huh,” he said.

“You don’t believe me?”

“To tell you the truth? No.”

“That’s it!” Cordelia’s notoriously short-fused temper went off and she charged the demon, slashing her sword at his arm. The edge of the blade hit hard and bounced off, sending the brunette flying in the opposite direction to collide with Wesley and knock him off his feet.

“Cordelia?” Angel asked, risking a glance in her direction. “Wesley?” A groan was his answer. Firming up his grip on the axe, he faced the monstrous creature. “You hurt my friends.”

“No,” the demon corrected. “She attacked first.” Those teeth flashed again. “Let you in on a little secret: Never come all the way into a dimension. Until you’ve fully arrived, you’re impervious.” His eyes lit on Fred and Connor again. “And another thing about interdimensional travel? Beware of hitchhikers.”

Fred stiffened, clutching Connor more tightly. “What?”

The demon took one long stride to her as Angel tried to prove the demon wrong. The attack sent him sailing across the lobby of the Hyperion. Forcing himself to his feet again, Angel staggered back towards Fred and Connor. “No!” he shouted.

His face melting into a semblance of concern, the demon grabbed Fred. “I’m sorry, Angel, but it’s really for the best.” He snatched the glaive from the floor and waggled it at the vampire. “These are only given out to possible hosts for the hitchhikers. Everyone back at the main office knew something was wrong. You were too happy. No brooding. No thoughts surrounding you about that little blonde Slayer. Just…” his face twisted in disgust. “Moony thoughts about a baby.” He snorted. “A baby! From two vampires? As if such a thing could ever come to pass.”

“It did,” Angel said, wavering on his feet, hefting the axe again.

“Sorry,” the demon said, shaking that great, horned head. “A hitchhiker. Just like your little chit, here.” He chucked Fred under the chin and her face split.

Cordelia shrieked at the thing that appeared in Fred’s place, burying her face into Wesley’s shoulder. Angel swallowed, suddenly thankful he didn’t actually eat anything. Ever. “B-but,” he whispered, “my son.”

“Never existed. Another hitchhiker, looking for a place to hang out. Why, if we’d let this thing mature, you’d have an apocalypse on your hands. And there’s not another one of those scheduled for at least four months.” The demon cocked its head. “Aw, I’m sorry, buddy,” he said. “Really I am. I mean, here you thought you’d gotten your life together, have a girlfriend, a son, people you trust and I’m just trampling all over your parade.”

“I don’t believe you,” Angel said, walking towards the demon. “Unhand Connor.”

“Okay,” the demon said. “Remember you asked for it.” He tossed the baby into the air. Connor wailed and a snakelike tongue shot out of the demon’s mouth, hauling the baby back down the demon’s throat.

Wailing at the sight, Cordelia fell bonelessly on the floor. Wesley gathered her into his arms, watching as the thing they’d called ‘Fred’ broke and ran. Angel leaped forward, the axe swinging in a high overhead arc, all his vampire strength concentrated into the head. Catching the shaft of the axe, the demon flung Angel back into a wall. “Sorry,” he said, “It really is for the best.” Grabbing the screaming Fred-creature, he upended her and threw her into his mouth. He had to chomp a few times to finish her off then licked his claws. “Ssssucculent,” he sighed.

“Connor,” Cordelia whimpered.

“Come off of it, seer. The hitchhikers fogged your minds, pulled you from your true purposes here.” The demon thumped his fist against his chest, letting out a resounding belch. “That’s why the glaive was sent here. With them around, you’d have never realized you’re walking the wrong path.” He picked at a tooth, staring almost cross-eyed at whatever he’d found with his claw and sucked it off. “Fortunately, that guilt you’re feeling right now? When I leave, it’ll go with me. You won’t remember a thing. And you can get back to your destinies.” He tapped his horn in salute. “See ya around.”

The boom was sudden and deafening, the crimson light blinding. Angel, with his superior recuperative powers, recovered first, shaking his head and blinking to get rid of the spots. He saw two figures sprawled on the floor and limped over to them, using his axe handle as a crutch until he was sure his legs would hold his own weight. “Cordelia? Wesley?” he asked, all but falling next to them. “Are you all right?”

“Uhhh?” Cordelia moaned succinctly. “What was that?”

Groaning, Wesley accepted Angel’s hand up. “I…I don’t know,” he said, opening his jaw to relieve the pressure on his eardrums. “Sonic boom?”

“It hurt,” Cordelia whined. “God, and now I’ve got a tear in this outfit!” She fussed with the silky tunic. “I just bought this top!”

“So, you’re both okay?” Angel asked, hovering.

“Yeah, yeah,” Cordelia snarled, “I’ve just got a whopper of a headache.” She pressed her fingers to her temples.

“Vision?” Wesley asked, leaning close.

She shot him a dirty look. “No, not a vision.” Her expression cleared. “Wait a minute.” Her face scrunched up again. “Eww, eww, did I need to see that? Do they even make Visine for your inner eye?”

“You saw something?” Wesley asked eagerly.

“Yeah, Cordelia, what was it?” Angel asked, pressing close.

“Spike’s naked ass!” Cordelia stuck her tongue out. “Gag.”

“Whatever would William the Bloody have to do with a vision?” Wesley asked, rocking back on his heels.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Something awful,” she said. “In Sunnydale. Oh, god, Sunnyhell.”

“Sunnydale?” Angel became very still. “Buffy.” Her name came out nearly as a whisper and he wondered why it felt like forever since he’d thought about her. He grabbed Cordelia’s shoulders. “Is Spike after Buffy?”

“How the hell should I know, oh, the vision.” Cordelia glared up at Angel, then her eyes softened a little bit. “Just go. Even if he isn’t, she needs you.”

”But,” Angel said, already on his feet and halfway across the lobby before Cordelia finished speaking. “You two?”

“We’ll be fine,” Cordelia said. “Go. If we need brawn and muscle, well, look, there’s Gunn. Where have you been?” She folded her arms and gave Gunn her best glower.

“Thanks.” Angel flashed one of his brighter smiles, nearly crashing into Gunn. “‘Scuse me,” he said, bouncing off the wall.

“A man’s got business to take care of.” Gunn hooked his thumb at the vampire as he dashed off. “What’s that all about?”

“Oh, he just got a direct call from Psychic Girl,” Cordy said, allowing Wesley to help her to her feet. They leaned on each other as they walked to the couch, nearly falling onto it.

“A vision? Man, I wished he’d told me, I’m itching for some action.” Gunn punched a fist into his palm.

“I…believe this is something he needs to handle solo,” Wesley said, slumping. “I feel so very….”

“Tired?” Cordelia dropped her head onto the back of the couch. “Like, your whole world’s been knocked askew?”

“Askew. Yes. That’s it exactly.”

“What are you two talking about?” Gunn asked.

They both looked at him then at each other. “You know, I really have no idea,” Wesley said, removing his glasses and polishing the lens.

“What a fount of knowledge you two are.” Gunn shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “About our resident vamp? Him going solo? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Trust me, Gunn,” Cordelia said, rolling her eyes again, “you so do not want to go where he’s going.” She lowered her voice and shuddered. “The suburbs.”

“Oh. Oh!” Gunn nodded. “The Slayer?”

“The Slayer,” Wesley and Cordelia responded together.

“Cool. I wanna meet her some day.” Gunn dropped onto the couch next to Cordelia. “So, is it just me or is there something missing in this place?”

“You know, I was thinking that exact same thing,” Cordelia said. She levered herself upright. “Maybe it’s food.”

“Food? Food sounds good. You sit,” Gunn said, pointing a finger at his friends. “I’ll get the takeout menus.” He went behind the counter to rummage through Cordelia’s desk. “Man, why’re all these Mexican? I can’t stand that crap.”

“Neither can I,” Cordelia said, “throw ‘em away.”

Wesley shifted around on the couch, a decidedly pinched look on his narrow face.

“What is it?” Cordelia asked.

“There’s something,” Wesley said as he scootched over. “It’s poking into my back.” He dug into the couch, finding the thing in question. “Aha!” Holding it up in triumph, Wesley turned it around. “Good lord.”

Cordelia plucked it from his hands. “A baby bottle?” She shook it at Gunn. “What’s this doing here?”

Gunn shrugged. “I don’t remember no babies coming through those doors.”

“Who knows how long it’s been there,” Wesley said, taking the bottle from her.

“Too long. Get rid of it.” Cordelia flicked her fingers at it in disgust.

Wesley pushed to his feet and made his way to the counter, tossing the bottle into the trash. “Gone.”

“Unsanitary thing.” Cordelia looked at the cushions around her, wondering what other surprises they might hold. “Eww,” she said, pulling herself off the couch and following her friends to the counter.

“So,” Gunn said, holding up the menus. “Vietnamese? Italian? Burgers?”

Cordelia had a flash of something terribly messy, a memory or a dream. She cupped a hand over her stomach. “Nothing red.”

“Nothing with noodles,” Wesley said at the same time, his face a little green.

“Burgers and fries it is,” Gunn said, producing the menu with a flourish and handed it to Cordelia. He shot a glance around the hotel as she opened the paper. “I don’t know, guys. It still seems something’s missing here.”

“Well, we three are here and there’s only one other person who might be,” Wesley said.

“So, I’m missing Angel?” Gunn pulled a face. “Man, don’t tell me that.”

“Well, who else would there be?” Cordelia asked, sweeping a hand around the lobby. “There’s you, Wes, me and Angel. Our own little family.”

“Guess you’re right,” Gunn said, shaking off the feeling that there ought to be someone else.

“Ooh, I want a salad,” Cordelia said.

“Salad? Girl, you’re skinny as a shadow. You need meat,” Gunn told her.

“I am not skinny,” Cordelia said, smacking at his arm. “I’m the right weight for my height.”

“Sure,” Gunn drawled, “but I like my women with a little more junk in their trunks.”

“Eww, where do you get these phrases?” Cordelia shuddered delicately. “Salad. And a diet coke. Wesley?”

“Hmm? Oh, buffalo chicken sandwich with curly fries.”

“You’re really getting the American thing down, Wes,” Cordy said admiringly.

Listening to his friends bicker, Gunn decided they were right. There’d never been anyone but them and Angel. It was the way it was and the way it’d always be. He nodded. He could live with that.

His smile broadened. All was right again in his world.

* * *

It was a beautiful night for a drive; the highway clear, the road stretching out in front of him. There was a hint of fog on the road but it wasn’t anything Angel hadn’t encountered before. Pressing the pedal to the floor, he rejoiced in the responding surge of power from the Hemi engine in the GTX.

Nothing had been right for a long time, he thought, but maybe things were about to get better.

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