Title: Visions
Author: A9KFO
Posted: 05-30-2000
Rating: R
Email: A9KF0@aol.com
Content: Angst, angst and a bit more angst.
Summary: Angel and Cordy get it on.
Spoilers:
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:
Notes: This has been in my head for weeks, ever since I started reading that "state of grace." It's an AU. Doyle never died but Wesley's around. No Dennis.
For Cousin Mary's challenge about Cordelia telling Angel his soul is permanent.
Feedback: Framed and gilded.
Part 7
Nothing had changed since their time with Angel Investigations. Wesley's reasonable observations collapsed under the weight of Cordelia's rambling comments as Doyle blatantly egged on both friends. Angel sat grinning, somewhat irritated but too amused to interrupt the conversation.
Giles had given Buffy a ride back to campus, allowing the partners time alone. He had suggested meeting the rest of the Slayerettes later at the Bronze but Cordelia had declined, her flight was scheduled first thing in the morning and she still had hours of sorting her mother's possessions. Instead she had hugged both the librarian and slayer and promised her next visit would be more relaxed. Now a few hours later she stood to leave, already late to meet her aunt and cousins for dinner before clearing out the rest of her mother's apartment. Doyle had to pick up Anis from her first shift at Sunnydale General and offered to drop Wesley off at Giles' apartment. She kissed the tall Englishman on the cheek and smiled at his mention of a visit to the city in the spring. The Met had several articles of dubious origin that the Council wished to examine. Doyle had pulled her close as she congratulated him on a job that made use of his unseemly talents and seedier contacts. Yet her eyes welled up with tears, as she regretted not being able to meet his Anis. The Irishman had smiled and touched her chin. "Take care Princess." He softly bade as the two men left. * * * Angel was silent as he drove Cordelia back to town in the remaining light of the day. Grateful for his increasing tolerance to sunlight he glanced over at the woman beside him. Looking down at her hands Angel had been startled by the short, unpolished nails. Although still an animated beauty when she spoke, the dark shadows under her eyes and gaunt cheekbones gave her a dramatic loveliness. Her figure had ripened but fatigue weighed heavily on her frame. Perhaps it was the grief for her mother but she seemed accustomed to the exhaustion that slackened her delicate features. Although they murmured the appropriated responses, the men had exchanged looks over her glib recounting of her life in New York City. Her stories of the cosmetic counter at Macy's and disappointed cattle calls had been amusing as had the tales of her few disappointing dates. Yet they also heard what she did not say. Her complaints were nominal, the stories too vague. The car pulled in front of the restaurant of a Howard Johnson Hotel. She reached for the door handle but stopped at the touch of a cold hand. Her breath caught as she met his tender gaze. "Cordelia. I know that things are harder than you let on and it's all right. Our new lives haven't been easy for any of us. It's ok to struggle and be frustrated." She looked at the dashboard, unable to meet his eyes. "I know. Sometimes I wish that we were still back in Los Angeles, but this is what we wanted. I have to keep remembering that." He took her hand, stroking the back with his thumb. "You don't have to do this. The Oracles gave us a gift, but you don't have to accept it. If you want to come back to Sunnydale, I'll help you. There's no reason for you to feel alone." She sniffed and wiped away a few tears. "I do sometimes y'know? Sometimes at night I just feel so lonely I don't know how I'm going to make it to the next day." "Then don't." She looked at up him. He sighed. "I mean, don't stay in New York. Move back here. You always have a place with me." She shook herself and took a deep breath. "Thank you, but this is your dream, not mine." She looked at him, her hazel eyes moist as she remembered his little smile as Buffy had sat on the arm of his chair. He had slipped an arm around her waist as she had grinned down at the vampire. "Are you happy? Is this what you wanted?" He ducked his head. "It's harder than I thought it would be. Buffy and I, it was never easy for us, but we're finding our way. We changed after I left and we're not always sure what we are to each other but yes, there are moments when I'm happy." She tried to smile but her face crumbled as the tears flowed freely. "Then I can be happy too." She kissed his cheek before slipping out of the car. Angel leaned forward before she closed the passenger door. "Cor, remember, if you need anything, I'll be there." At her nod he tried again. "Cordelia, you don't have to stay in New York. Come home." His dark eyes pleaded, the corners wet. She bit her lip and swung the door closed. Forcing herself to smile, she waved as he pulled away. Then once the car had disappeared, she walked past the restaurant to the hotel. Cordelia stood at the hotel room door, key in hand, as she wiped her eyes and calmed herself. Smiling broadly, she turned the key. The television blared as her eyes settled on a teenage girl lying on the bed, watching reruns. At the sight of her reddened and puffy eyes Debbie sat up, not knowing what to say. A screeching noise from the floor caught their attention. Something bumped into her shins. Looking down, Cordelia gasped as she looked at the brown hair streaked with blond that would never lay flat. Kneeling, her heart skipped a beat as she looked into the familiar laughing brown eyes and smile. Ignoring the new tears welling in her eyes she grasped the little boy to her chest. "Liam."
Part 8
Cordelia lay on the misshapen hotel mattress, exhausted. She'd packed most of their things in the car so that they could leave in the morning. She hadn't planned on leaving till Saturday but she also hadn't planned on running into Buffy. Or Angel.
She'd expected the pain, but it had been balanced by the joy of seeing Wesley and Doyle, both pleased with the new lives they'd made for themselves. As was Angel. And surprisingly, so was Cordelia. Despite the anxieties and uncertainty of the last two years, she had no regrets. Liam made up for everything. Somehow things had come full circle. A lifetime ago she'd been Debbie's babysitter, now she was paying the younger girl to talk on the phone and watch tv. No doubt she'll tell her mother and word will spread through out the tennis courts and umbrella'd tables of Sunnydale Country Club. The closing chapter of the Chase family melodrama. Her father had been careless and paid the price. Her mother died in genteel poverty and been buried without even her full name on a true headstone. And Cordelia? An unwed mother, such a cliché. Despite the gossip, it wouldn't cross class lines. Unless Xander heard something while picking up towels in the locker room or replacing the digits on the putting green, she'd be a vague warning for this year's debutantes. She could imagine the tongues clucking and knowing smirks as her mother's cronies cackled over her 'predicament.' The oddly triumphant gleam in their eyes similar to Aunt Jackie's when she had lectured Cordelia about her 'stupidity.' It was almost the end of the first trimester before Cordelia had considered the possibility. The move to Denver, the higher altitude and nighttime closings were enough to wear anyone out. The cold mountain air penetrated her skin as she shivered under the pale, wan sunlight. Some vital part of her spirit had been left behind in Los Angeles, leaving her eyes flat and dull. Every now and then, as she dusted the front parlor or cleared out the dressing rooms, she'd remember the times at Angel Investigations. Memories of Doyle, Wesley and Angel. The ever nearby tears would flow as she remembered the brief time when she had felt alive, special. Treasured by the three men she had come to love as family, so different from the cold, formal filial duties she now bowed to. Surely that explained the queasiness in her stomach and the shift in her cycle. After watching the patterns from her own distasteful pregnancy, her mother had stared at Cordelia's changing figure and bluntly asked if *that* was the real reason she left L.A. Cordelia had panicked. It wasn't possible. It was only a vision, albeit a bone-shattering, soul-scorching one, but it wasn't real. When three home tests indicated otherwise she made a doctor's appointment. Afterward she'd stumbled around in a daze. Her first impulse had been to call the hellmouth, but she'd become hysterical when Angel's answering machine picked up. Babbling about big things happening in the Big Apple, she had quickly hung up. A thousand scenarios played through her mind. Angel, down on one knee with a ring in his hand. Buffy, slapping her with the force of a slayer. Giles, sputtering that such a thing was not possible as Xander stood slack-jawed. Most of all she saw Angel, his dark eyes alternatively puzzled then disbelieving. In her mind she imagined Angel, his disgusted expression before he turned and walked away, disappointment weighing his steps. Anxious, her palm constantly fluttered over her suddenly thick waist. What about the child? Was it human? A vampire? Both? Neither her mother's disappointment nor her aunt's disapproval registered as everything but the new life inside her womb faded into the shadows. Now when she thought of the Slayerettes or Wesley it was to learn of the mysterious being that governed her movements. It didn't matter if Angel could return her feelings or if he was madly in love with the slayer if she could see his delight at the news of their baby. During her ultrasound she wanted to feel his hand gripping hers as he saw and heard his child's heart beat. When the technician announced that she was carrying a healthy boy she'd had one of her spontaneous crying jags. He patted her hand and dismissed the sobs to hormones or her first sight of her baby. Or perhaps he had seen enough unaccompanied women to sense their despair. Often the grey images changed a vague concept of raising a child alone to a hardened reality. Her joy at the health and apparent humanity of the baby was diminished by bitter disappointment. Angel's eyes had glowed as he had described the blonde little girl in his vision. A part of her had hoped for a possibility she could not put into words. Unbidden, she pictured Angel and Buffy in a similar room, grinning as they tried to make out their daughter's hands and feet on the monitor. Her resolve not to call Sunnydale hardened with the certainty that the child in her womb was not the 'reward' promised to Angel. The Powers That Be had granted him a chance for happiness with a daughter and wife with hair as bright as the California sun. As her figure swelled she told herself that he would not be part of their lives. In time she would accept this. She and the baby lingered in a fragile cocoon for the remaining pregnancy. Seeing Liam's sweet face for the first time she recalled her wish in the temple of the Oracles. If only once she had wanted Angel's love. A part of his soul that would be hers alone. Looking into the eyes that she knew would darken Cordelia had smiled. Maybe the Powers That Be did know what they were doing. In the anonymous hotel room, Liam nestled closer to her, out like a light after almost two whole "pe'budder-n-jellies." Unlike his mother, his appetite for the sandwiches assembled out of a cooler didn't diminish over time. Tired of the makeshift menu, she had celery and apples smeared with peanut butter. For the ride home, she'd treat them both to a waxy carton of chocolate milk. What she could really go for was a carton of Neapolitan ice cream. She smiled as she remembered the cravings during her pregnancy for the colorful sweet over the baleful glasses of milk she drank. One night, after almost a week of hormones and mood swings, a ramekin of the tri-colored confection appeared at her elbow. She had burst into tears at the thoughtful treat but her aunt had shrugged. If it shut her up, then she'd stock the freezer full. Strangely, Liam didn't really like ice cream but neither demons nor devils could come between him and chocolate cake. Cordelia ran a hand through his thick hair. As much as she loved her son, her heart ached when she looked at the little boy. His familiar features and dark eyes were a continual reminder of his absent father. How could she not remember the brief time that Angel held her lovingly as his son flung out his stubby arms for a hug? She imagined his smile mirroring Liam's as they laughed over blocks and favorite storybooks. Even her mother had commented that whatever his faults, Liam's father must've been as handsome as the devil. Cordelia smiled faintly. In time she would be glad that she had seen Angel and Buffy together. Seeing them together she knew that it was the right thing for him to return to Sunnydale and the slayer. However uneasy, he had found peace with his only love. Alone with him in the car, it had been so hard to keep up a front. When she had asked if he was happy, Cordelia realized that the pain and hurt of the past two years was still sharp. The crushing blow of his answer cracked her façade, but perhaps it would cauterize the still festering wounds. Maybe now her heart could begin to heal. Holding their son close, Cordelia smiled despite her tears. Maybe now she could allow herself to be truly happy. Happy knowing that she had done the right thing. She and Angel were where they meant to be. It would always hurt that their fates were not together, but in time the ache would lessen. In some strange, twisted manner the Oracles had granted both of their wishes. His soul was permanent and he was becoming human. He had Buffy, the love that had drawn him back from the flames of hell. Away from the hellmouth she had her son and nothing, not the slayer or the Powers That Be, would take away her joy. Her Angel.
Part 9
The loud ringing of the phone underscored the pounding in Giles' head. The second brandy had been indulgent, the third and fourth detrimental. Looking at the clock he grimaced at the early hour as he reached for the extension near his head. "Buffy?"
A sharp feminine voice cut through the fog swirling in his head. "Contrary to popular opinion, not everything in Sunnydale revolves around little Miss Likes-to-kick!" Giles rolled onto his back. "Cordelia. If you need a ride to the airport I'm not really ab-" "Look bookman, I'm not calling for taxi service. I need you to meet me in my hotel room pronto. I'm at the Howard Johnson's, room 203. And Giles, you have to swear on your favorite unabridged dictionary that you won't tell anyone about this." The ex-watcher shut his eyes. "Somehow a secret assignment with you in a hotel room is not something that I would prattle on about." "Yes it is and you know it. Now get out of your tweed pajama's and get over here!" Her tart voice was cut off as the connection ended. * * * Cordelia started at the knock at the door. She peered through the peephole before unbolting the lock. Giles, disheveled and bleary eyed, strode into the room. "Cordelia, what's going on? There are three cars in smoldering pieces down there. It took twenty minutes to get past the police and firemen." He looked at the young woman as he sat on the corner of her unmade bed. Seated at the hotel table, she looked down at her hands. "I'm not sure. I woke up and heard something in the parking lot. Some yelling and then boom! Everything was in flames." His eyes narrowed. She had grown up on the hellmouth and faced untold danger in L.A. Vandalism and petty car theft shouldn't have reduced Queen C to staring at her fingernails. "What then? You must have seen something that would cause you to ring me at this hour." At her silence he pressed. "What was it Cordelia?" In a flat voice she answered. "It was the Moglos. They were going through my car when the someone saw them." She met his eyes. "They were looking for me." Giles frowned, a piece of the puzzle was still missing. "The demonic brotherhood that you encountered in Los Angeles. Why not call Angel? Why was your first impulse to call my number?" She snorted. "My first impulse was to take the fastest Grayhound bus out of town but I don't know if I can go home. Some of them got away. They're tracking me and if they went through my car then they could have my address, assuming they make out the big words." He opened his mouth to ask another question when the pillow by his hip moved. Startled, Giles watched as a head of brown hair emerge from the white sheets. A pair of drowsy chocolate eyes looked up at him. Giles stood as Cordelia moved to the bed and scooped the child out of the bedclothes. Glancing up at the Englishman she winced at his expression. The authoritative tone masked his surprise. "I believe some introductions are in order." * * * Anis moved down the aisle searching for brown rice. Doyle had stocked up her pantry with 'staples' but instant mashed potatoes and cheese 'n macaroni were a little basic. She snickered at the thought of his blue eyes and wide smile. He got points for being cute and for trying. A sharp voice carried over the elevator music. "Giles, put that back!" At the cash register, a brunette glared at a male figure. Abashed, he placed the boxed pastries in the magazine rack and held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Cordelia, I just thought that some sweets would be nice." The female huffed and looked at the cashier for sympathy. "Won't pay child support but he'll spring for the sugar buzz and empty calories. Men!" Shifting the toddler in her arms, she left the sputtering Englishman to pay for the bags of diapers and milk. * * * Wesley was furious. He glanced at Doyle pacing in Giles' living room. The Irishman's expression matched Wesley's mood. Irreplaceable resource to the Council or not, he intended on asking the older man several questions. And heavens help him if the answers were unsatisfactory. Angel was doing reconnaissance on a disturbance among the local demon community and hadn't taken his cell phone. Wesley had left an urgent message for him to join them. Giles walked through the door and muttered "Evening" before moving to the sideboard for a drink. He had the glass almost to his lips before he perceived the hostility directed at him. Not daunted he sat on the sofa with his drink. "I take it something has happened?" Wesley folded his arms. "About a year or so ago. Would you care to tell us why Cordelia was arguing with you publicly for child support?" Giles stifled a groan. He had scolded Cordelia for her prank but she had shrugged and told him it was payback for buying generic diapers. He suspected that it had been a ploy to divert his attention from her new hotel room on the outskirts of town. He had argued in taking refuge in his apartment but Scooby Central was the last place she wanted to hide. He met the younger man's glare. "Whatever is between Cordelia and I is private. I appreciate your concern but quite bluntly it is misplaced." Doyle snorted. "You'll want to rethink that. Anything to do with Cordy is very much our concern. And I doubt very much that Angel isn't going to have an opinion." Giles shot the shorter man a dismissive look. "I don't really give a damn what yours or Angel's opinion is, my relationship with Cordelia is none of your business." Doyle stepped closer. "You don't think we're going to take that do you?" Giles frowned. "I don't care what you accept, the matter is dropped." The shrill ring of the phone prevented Wesley's retort. Grateful for the interruption, Giles picked up the receiver. "Yes." He stiffened and spoke curtly. "Stay in your room. Lock your door and turn off the lights." He hung up and looked at the two men. "If you want to be Cordelia's cavaliers, we have an excellent opportunity." * * * For the second time in twenty-four hours, Cordelia leaned shaking against her hotel door. She'd heard scuffles and then the clash of metal outside. She cursed herself for not leaving Sunnydale this morning and for involving one of her few friends. She gasped at the faint sounds of voices and pounding of feet. Then silence. Finally, there was a knock on her door. She looked through the peephole and moaned before unchaining the door. Giles staggered into the room, followed by Wesley and Doyle. Feeling her pointed stare Giles sank into a chair and rubbed his temples. "I couldn't handle the situation alone." Wesley picked up the conversation. "And now that we are involved, we'd appreciate an explanation. Those were Moglos brethren. How long have they been tracking you? When did they find you?" Doyle broke into his questions. "Why didn't you let us know about them earlier? And the babe? Why didn't you tell anyone?" He looked around the hotel room. "Where is the little one?" She stared at her partners, her jaw clenched. After a minute of glaring she moved to the bathroom in the back of the room. Opening the door she bent down to pick up something. She walked back, the child held tightly against her chest. Liam had other ideas and attempted to wiggle out of her arms. Once on the floor, the squirming little boy turned and peered up at the two strangers. Wesley didn't hear the gasp from his throat as he stared astonished at the familiar features and bone structure. Equally stunned, Doyle sank to his knees in front of the boy. Seemingly black eyes met his gaze. Doyle's fingertips moved to touch the child's face but pulled back. Still shocked, he exhaled loudly as he looked at the smaller image of Angel. His voice was a dry rasp. "Oh Princess."
Part 10
Doyle wasn't a watcher, he hadn't been trained to peer at musty books for hours but matched the other men's determination to protect Cordelia and the child seated in her lap. He tried to focus on the page in front of him but kept glancing to the floor where she read stories from Giles' meager collection of folktales.
He smirked, whom else but a watcher would have 'The Psychological Origins of Grimm's Fairie Tales' and 'Stories in the Black Forest: Separating the Myth from the Monster?' Considering the boy's appearance he frowned; there was no question as to his parentage. Giles' terse explanations had stunned them. Cordelia had sat slumped, unwilling to meet their eyes as she accepted the inevitable. She had reached out to Giles in desperation and in turn Wesley and Doyle had stumbled onto the truth she had carefully guarded. Now Buffy would know of her presence in Giles' apartment and Angel would inevitably learn the truth behind her wish in the temple of the Oracles. At one point Wesley had suggested the sanctuary of Vestia, Doyle's adopted home but the chances of making the trip to Los Angeles safely were slim. Skimming through a leather tome for the words and phrases the Moglos had dropped during the skirmish, the older man paused. "Doyle, what did that one say to you? 'kaylos' or 'kiolos?" The Irishman snorted. "Didn't really ask for the correct pronunciation as he was swinging an axe at my neck at the time." Giles continued to peer at the faded page. "'Kaylos' would mean sacrifice, 'kiolos' is used for key. Neither is encouraging." He removed his glasses. "Given your first encounter outside the temple of the Oracles, I'm inclined to think that they are looking for a key to the doorway. What is more puzzling is why Cordelia at this time? Why pursue her here now in Sunnydale when Angel has been a presence here for so long?" He shook his head. "Maybe they felt she was the most vulnerable of you four. Given that their natural habitat is the lowland swamps of Louisiana, I suspect their physiology would prohibit them from reaching the high altitudes of Denver." "Well, that explains why I never did well with the Saints at Mile High. Denver huh?" Cordelia heard the reproach in Doyle's dry tone but couldn't meet his eyes. These men were among the few she could count on one hand who knew the uncertainty behind her belligerent comments. Doyle had watched her attempts to succeed be undercut by insecurities and self-doubt. He had reached for her more than once when her thin layer of bravado had collapsed under the weight of her emotions. Wesley stood up from the table covered with books. "For the moment let's focus on what the Moglos have been keeping from us." A high feminine voice cut into the conversation. "Moglos? Isn't that the bear from 'The Jungle Book?'" Buffy, flanked by Xander and Willow, entered the apartment. She looked at each man in turn. "Not to be redundant or repeat myself, but is someone going to tell me what's a Moglos and what they want?" "Me." All eyes looked at Cordelia as she stood from her spot on the other side of the couch. 'They're looking for me." Xander frowned. "Cordy, good to see you. Any particular reason why demonspawn are hunting you down like a bloodhound pack in a escape road-gang movie?" Cordelia's chin rose. "Didn't really stop to ask. My guess is either my ability to accessorize or my ability to wear prints. Does it matter? All I want to know is how to get rid of them." A squawk drew their attention to the living room carpet. Cordelia stiffened, as Buffy saw the toddler now upset by more new faces. The slayer's heart beat thickly as she recognized the boy's dark expression as he thrust up his arms in a demand for comfort. As Cordelia picked him up a cold, visceral knot tightened in her bowels. She could no longer hide in the mountains of Colorado or outrun her only fear on the hellmouth. Buffy spoke coldly, forcing the words through clenched teeth. "Cordelia, is there something you want to tell me?" * * * Buffy paced in front of Cordelia. Doyle had taken Liam into the relative seclusion of the bathroom with Giles' meager storybook resources and a number of chocolate ho-ho's. Buffy stopped and glared at Cordelia. "So, are you going to tell me about your little bundle of joy there? Why he's the living image of my undead boyfriend?" Cordelia had dreaded this conversation. In her heart she could admit that she had stolen something precious from the slayer. "Buffy, this isn't what it looks like." "Is that Angel's son?" Buffy pressed. Cordelia closed her eyes. "Yes it is, but it's not what you think." "I think you're a ho and a bitch." The slayer stated bluntly. "Does Angel know about him?" Cordelia shook her head. "No of course not. No one did until this morning." Buffy stood in front of her. "This is wonderful Cordelia, what happened? Before he left you wanted one shot at something you were never going to have? That must've been one hell of a severance package." Cordelia bit her lip. Even furious, the slayer was insightful. Buffy peered into her face, she'd struck at the truth. "That's pathetic. You're pathetic. What I can believe is that Angel fell for it." She huffed. "Well, it obviously didn't mean anything to him since he came back here. Without you. To me." Cordelia couldn't defend her actions but didn't want any blame to fall on Angel. "Buffy no, he didn't know. He doesn't remember about any of it." Buffy's green eyes sliced into her. "Really. You were that good. Must've been a proud moment for Queen C." A bitterness filled Cordelia's mouth. The slayer's aim, as always, was perfect. "He didn't realize it was me. He thought it was you." She admitted softly. The shorter woman shook her head in disgust. "What, you got him drunk and then took advantage of him? Color me not surprised. Only way you'd get him in your bed." The brunette stared at the shorter woman, slowly realizing that Angel never told Buffy of his vision of their future together. Of their blonde daughter in a sunny playground. Buffy continued her rant. "And now, you're here to show him his son? Maybe take what you couldn't have without playing the wild card. Or is that the 'child' card." At the accusation, Cordelia focused back to the conversation. "No. I came here because of my mother. I've never asked Angel for anything and I won't now. I'll leave as soon as I can. Things can go back to the way they were." The slayer brought her up short. "No Cordelia, things will never be the way they were. You've seen to that." Cordelia shook her head, tired of the diatribe. "Y'know someone else is living up their bitch potential here. I'm in danger, my *child* is in danger, and all you can think about is how it affects you." She regarded the slayer somberly." I stayed away for you Buffy. I didn't come running when I found out I was pregnant. I didn't send out baby announcements. I've been raising my son alone because I thought you and Angel deserved the chance I was never going to have." Buffy interrupted her. "No Cordelia, you stayed away for you." Cordelia inhaled deeply. "Help or don't help, I don't care. But after this, stay away from me and mine." Buffy regarded her rival. "I'd say the same Cordelia, but it's obviously too late." She turned towards the door. Giles cleared his throat. "Buffy, I realize this is painful at the moment but we do need your help." "Giles, not now. I'll help, you know that, but I can't be here with her right now." Willow moved to follow but Buffy looked over her shoulder at her friend. "Wills, thank you but no, Just leave me alone." Concerned the redhead watched her best friend leave. After a moment she turned to the others. "I have a question." "Just one?" Xander screeched. Willow frowned. "Well, actually more like a hundred. But since Angel's not really, you know, human. How he did, well, father a child?" * * * Angel strode up the pathway towards Giles'. Ahead, Buffy was almost tumbling down the sidewalk. As always, he smiled at the sight of her flushed cheeks and blazing eyes. She was worked up about something. He caught her in his arms before she realized he was in front of her. "Buffy are you alright?" She jerked away and blew at her bangs. "Angel." Surprised by her gruff response, he frowned. "Wesley left a message. What's going on?" She tried to push past him. "I don't wanna talk to you right now. Just leave me alone." He caught her arm. At her glare he let go. "Buffy. What is it?" She continued to walk away. "Don't push me away. Talk to me." She whirled around. "You know what, you're the last person I want to talk to right now. Or maybe the next to last person. That honor goes to Cordelia." His frown deepened. "What does Cordelia have to do with anything?" Grunting his lover retorted "Well since she's sitting in Giles' living room right now, why don't you go ask her and get out of my face before I do something we'll both regret?" She walked away. Angel was tempted to follow but remembered Wesley's message. The urgency of his note and Cordelia's unexpected presence pulled him, towards the apartment. Approaching, he saw the open door. Rushing over the threshold he noted that the door has been forced open, almost off the hinges. Scanning the room he found others struggling to their feet. As Willow bent over Wesley's leg, Angel experienced déjà vu as he recalled the battle in front of the Oracles, binding the same wound. On the other side of the living room Giles, without his glasses and bleeding from his mouth, tries rouse Doyle, lying still in his demon aspect. By the kitchen, Xander frantically jabbered into the phone. Angel caught the words, 'Anis' and 'demons' as he watched Xander gently crouch over. . . "Cordelia!" instantly the vampire was on the floor holding the dark-haired girl. She whimpered gently as her head rolled back and forth. "Cordelia, it's all right." "Angel." She raised her hand slightly as if to bring it to her face but whined deep in her throat. Staring down Angel could already see the swelling in her wrist, the unnatural way she held the arm close to her body. Careful of her limb he cradled her body as he touched her face. "Easy, take it slow." "Angel, it happened so fast. They were at the door and then, there were so many." He pushed the dark hair off her face. Her tone was uneven, agitated. "I tried to pick up Liam but, oh God Liam!" She tried to twist her torso around to search the apartment but gasped and laid still as she felt the pain in her ribs. Blanching, she looked at him. "Oh God is he here? Where is he?" Angel tried to cull her words for keys to the violence around him. "What was it? Who is Liam?" Her pale lips opened but formed no words. "Your son." Angel looked up at Doyle, standing now with his human face. "Yours and Cordelia's."
Continue on...