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What It Means To Be Alive, Part 2 (Page 4 of 5)
By Hephaestus

Summary: The nature of love and what it means to be human.
Author's Profile: @ fanfiction.net
Part of a Series: This is Part 2 of the sequel to They Did Not Fade Away.
Disclaimer: Joss owns all. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Comments: Reviews are my life blood. Thank you so much to those who have been commenting, some of them are very funny and very uplifting. I greatly appreciate it.

. . .

Chapter 50

One bottle of wine and three newly written songs after he had arrived home, Will stood unsteadily to answer his apartment door. Still wearing the black pants and apple red button down he had been in at the office, his jaw dropped as he saw what was before him. Dawn was standing in a little black dress that should have been illegal by his estimations. She was holding a cherry wood Ovation Custom Legend Contour LX guitar in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

Without a word, she stepped into the apartment and handed him the acoustic guitar. Setting the bottle on the coffee table, she turned to him and crossed her arms across her chest, which only served to make her already ample cleavage even more tantalizing.

It had taken her hours to get up the courage to go to his apartment. It had taken longer for her to choose what she wanted to wear and even longer for her to convince herself to get of her car once she was parked outside his building. The sun had set and the stars were almost visible tonight, and she had planned to apologize with all her might. Taking her heart in her hands, she made a mental gesture of it towards him. She was going to let this ride, she told herself. Her curiosity was piqued and she wanted to see what end this story would have.

“I talked to Fred after I had a mini mental breakdown. She said I was an idiot. Umm…I wouldn’t usually listen to her, I don’t even know her, but she was the only woman I could talk to since my sister no longer answers her phone. And, well, I made a mistake. I mean, I still think I could never love you, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think I’m capable of that. But throwing you away because you love me is stupid, or so I’m told. So here I am. I won’t run away, I swear. Let’s work this out.”

After her breathless explanation of her presence she stood staring at him pensively hoping with all her being that he wouldn’t throw her out. He had every right to, she thought. He stood staring dumbly at her for a few moments. Trying not to take offense to anything she had just said, he took a deep breath and tried to make his eyes look away from her body.

“Sit down.” His clouded mind wouldn’t let him do much more than sit and carefully take the red bow off his new bright red cherry wood guitar. Sitting the guitar on his leg, he carefully tuned the strings to his satisfaction before strumming one of the songs he had written in a fit of broken heartedness and booze induced honesty.

Leaning back, he closed his eyes and started to hum as he strummed. Soon, he was singing with all his soul, his melodic voice piercing the air with tenderness and at times intensity so real it made Dawn ache. Dawn listened, her lips parted and heart heavy as she tried to tell herself the lyrics weren’t about her. He was a talented writer and his words that were directly about Dawn made the young woman quiver in fear and overwhelming emotion.

When he was done, Dawn released a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding. Lowering her gaze to the floor, she tried to think of something to say to him. No one had ever written her a love song before, and she was sure that if anyone had tried she would have laughed at them. His words were true, beautiful and not overwrought with dramatization, which made her love them even more than the fact that Will was the one who had written them.

Setting the guitar down, he knelt on the floor in front of her, putting his hands on her thighs. “Let’s go to Vegas. Tonight. It’s Friday, there’s no need to get up tomorrow. Let’s just go. Right now.”

“Will...” She was silenced by his lips. Rising from her chair, she nodded and went for the door. Allowing herself to trust him was difficult, but if he wanted to drive across a couple of states tonight, she wasn’t going to argue with him. She felt that he deserved that much from her.

Forgetting everything he had planned, everything he had wanted to say to her, he grabbed his jacket and threw her the keys to his car. She caught the keys and turned to him, “It’s three hundred miles to Las Vegas.”

“I know. We’ll be there before one. Let’s go.”

Throwing caution to the wind, she smiled and left the building with him. She drove the first two hours while he slept away some of the wine that was clouding his brain. The drive was quiet, each afraid they would say something that would jinx the night. Will was hoping with all his might that the woman next to him would listen to reason and allow herself to be free with him. Dawn was hoping Will would give her space and time and refrain from making demands of her.

They switched places half way through the drive. Will knew just where he wanted to go. They drove down the strip, which Dawn had never seen before, before Will pulled into his favorite hotel.

“This is where I stay when I’m in town.”

“How often do you come here?”

“Whenever I need to relax. Angel and I used to come here all the time on the weekends, to gamble, watch pretty women and get drunk. It’s a good time. I haven’t been here in a long time, though. Since you came to L.A., actually. I think it’s about time.”

The suite Will checked them into had one king size bed and a circular tub big enough for five people. Smiling, she walked the perimeter of the bedroom before turning to him. His hands stopped her from removing the thin material that kept her dress on her shoulders. Frowning at him, she wondered what this night was all about.

“Not now. Come on.”

Hiding her disappointment and stinging pride, she followed him from the room and out onto the street. Taking her hand, he started them away from the Bellagio and towards the Stratosphere.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re working up an appetite on our way to the Stratosphere. You haven’t dined in Las Vegas until you’ve dined there. Do you mind walking? Those shoes look a little uncomfortable.” His brain was moving to fast for his lips and he recognized that he hadn’t breathed while speaking.

“How far is it?”

He thought a minute before answering, “four miles, I think.”

She stopped where she was and looked at him with incredulous expression. “Four blocks I could handle, four miles is a little ridiculous in these heels. We’re getting a cab.”

“Okay.”

The drive was only about fifteen minutes, traffic wasn’t horrible tonight. It was nearly one-thirty by the time they arrived at the restaurant, but Will knew it was open until three. They were seated rather quickly; the normal patrons had mostly already left. Somehow Will was able to get them in without a reservation, which was supposed to be impossible; Dawn imagined the few hundred dollars he had slipped to the maitre d’ had something to do with it.

Dawn listened to Will order for her. She was to awe struck by the view to pay any attention to the menu. The eight hundred foot high restaurant afforded a view of the entire city. She could see every hotel and casino for miles. Prying her eyes from the magnificent view, she looked at her companion. He was sipping from a wine glass and she noticed hers had been filled as well. The bottle was sitting on the table.

“So, what is this all about?” She leaned forward, allowing the flowing and plunging neckline of her dress to gape a little wider.

He recognized what she was doing and he wasn’t going to fall for it again. “We’re having dinner. We’re going to drink this wine and eat amazing food and then we are going to gamble until daybreak. And then we are going to sleep all day and get up and go to shows and eat more incredible food and gamble again. How does that sound for a weekend away?”

Leaning back, she crossed her knees. She did look down-right amazing, Will reflected. Her dress was cut in flowing fabric that reached almost to her navel. The flowing black material hung just above her knees and fluttered around her legs as she walked. Her hair was styled in big curls and waves that hung around her shoulders; her lips were pale and her eyes were lined darkly. Jewelry adorning her body was scant; she recognized that she didn’t need it. A teardrop shaped black stone hung from a gold chain and lay just at her breastbone. Matching earrings and bracelet were the only other things she had added to the ensemble. He was captivated entirely by the woman in front of him. He was stunned at how mature, how womanly she looked. Gone were the days were sweaters and clunky boots, he thought.

She sipped her wine and smiled at him. This was a beautiful night, she thought. She was in good company, she was in an amazing city, and she felt as if she could take over the world at any moment. Looking out at the view once more, she watched as the city slowly spun beneath her. Laughing at the idea of a revolving restaurant, she started to feel the wine going straight to her head.

“I think this is a great weekend. I’m still wondering what possessed you to do this, though. I mean, sudden doesn’t even cover it.”

“I got tired of our regular dates. A rushed dinner and great sex can only take a couple so far, you know. If I have the means to do things like this, why not do it. Besides, you brought me an amazing gift; I figured I do something for you.”

“The guitar? Yeah, I figured you’d like that.”

The waiter brought their food and Dawn started into her lobster. Will had something in front of him he identified to her as lamb. They ate and drank for a few moments, trying not to stare at each other. The food was some of the best Dawn had ever tasted, and the wine was like silk on her tongue. If nothing else went right tonight, she thought, she would always remember dinner at the top of the world.

Gathering his courage, he leaned forward in his seat. “Dawn, what happened today? The way you ran out of my office, I didn’t think you were ever coming back. The way you reacted was pretty severe. And then you show up looking like that and acting like this a few hours later. What happened?”

“I told you, I talked to Fred.”

“Uh huh. And then the Martians body snatched you. What happened?”

She took another swallow of wine before she answered. She didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed but decided to answer honestly anyway. “I ran because I got scared. I’ve seen what love does to people. And it’s you. The guy who we all hated. And then the guy we all loved. It’s weird to be with you, Will. I remember you chained in a bathtub and making puppy eyes at my sister. You did a lot more than that with my sister,” she said in a caustic tone. “You aren’t the guy I thought I would love. I didn’t think I would ever love anybody. I thought we were going to sleep together and that would be it. You are so attractive and I have wanted you for so long, it was like the culmination of years of desire.”

She took another drink and tried to aggregate her reserves of courage. “I just got really freaked out. So I went to talk to someone. I didn’t use your name or anything, but I found Fred and talked to her. She told me about her and Gunn and then her and Wesley, about how she wasn’t even sure she loved Wesley for a long time. And now, they’re married and have a kid and she says she loves him more than anything besides Allie. She told me I was ridiculous if I threw away the best thing that could ever happen to me.”

I went and I thought about that for a while and tried to call Buffy but apparently there’s another Buffy and Angel saga going on. Anyway, I took my time and thought about she said. And I figured, if I like you and since you treat me really well and you’re nice and funny and we have the best sex I have ever had, I would be pretty stupid to run from that. I’m not saying I’m going to confess my undying love or anything, I just don’t want to destroy the best relationship I’ve ever had.”

She looked back down to her plate and started eating as he digested the information he had just heard. He liked to think that she was going to love him eventually. He wanted to believe that she would learn to love and specifically that she would learn to love him. Chewing slowly, he wondered what he could possibly do to convince her that love was not a bad thing. Swallowing his food and leaning back in his chair, he realized that all he would have to do was show her how wonderful it could be. He thought he could do that.

“Well I’ll have to send Fred some anonymous flowers.”

Dinner progressed wonderfully, both of them talking about future plans and past events. They laughed as they reminisced about Sunnydale and demons that made them sing. Will told Dawn a few stories about England as he knew it; she listened with rapt attention to his description of London hundreds of years ago and told him about the way it was when she had been there.

When the maitre d’ told them the restaurant was closing, Will didn’t bother to ask for the check. He left more one-hundred bills on the table than Dawn had seen at one time. Having matured throughout her teens in a house that struggled after her mother had died; Dawn was still uncomfortable with the thought of frivolous spending. Even the clothes she was wearing had made her nervous when she bought them. Only the knowledge that the dress would make a very deep impression had allowed her to purchase it.

They left Stratosphere slightly intoxicated and feeling lighter than either had in a long time. The night progressed to more alcohol and a volley of gambling. The casino closed a short time after they had entered and Dawn practically begged to continue the night. A night club was the next stop, then, Will decided. They danced and drank and laughed until they thought they would burst from the incredible hedonism.

The last stop the taxi made with its rather intoxicated inhabitants was a small twenty-four hour wedding chapel. Two drunken and very happy people were back in the cab only twenty minutes after having left it. Going back to their hotel, they stumbled to their room with little idea of what they had done and no memory of certain parts of the night.

Too inebriated to sleep, they made love slowly and with a lot of giggling. Will wasn’t sure they had finished by the time he was about ready to pass out. Holding her tightly against him, his muddled brain stopped working as he fell asleep. They slept in each other's arms, neither willing to move throughout the morning and most of the afternoon. When Will woke, he felt happier than he had in a long time. Besides the headache ravaging his skull, he felt as though he was a new man, a happier man, than he had been the day before.

Working his way out from under Dawn’s unconscious grasp, he stretched silently and rose to go to the bathroom to dig for Tylenol. Passing the nightstand, he stopped as his jaw dropped to the floor. Slipping the bit of paper stating just what had been the finale of their night into the drawer, he swallowed hard and continued to the bathroom. A long shower and a lot of pain killers were going to be needed before Dawn woke up.

. . .

Chapter 51

“What exactly did you say to Buffy to stop that fight from being a real fight? There was a lot less screaming last night than I anticipated.”

Staring at his son over coffee and pancakes, Angel was hoping to get an answer to his questions before Buffy woke up. She had been exhausted last night and had gone to bed directly after the final credits of the movie had started to play. Connor had followed shortly thereafter, giving Angel little time to press for information.

His night had consisted of sketching and precious little sleep. He had already consumed half the pot of coffee and hoped that his day would not be too strenuous. Boring holes into his sons’ skull, he pursed his lips and waited for Connor to speak.

“Well, I told her what I knew. About Cordy being alive and coming to you for help. I told her some stuff about when I came back and what you and I went through. You didn’t tell her anything, did you?”

“I told her some stuff. It’s hard to talk about a lot that happened back then.”

“Back then. Is that when it was? I just think she needs to know some stuff in order to understand you. To understand us.”

“So what exactly did you tell her?”

Connor shifted uncomfortably. “I told her I was raised in a hell dimension and when I came back I tried to kill you. I told her about your ocean submerged summer and how I went nuts and tried to kill a bunch pf people and you sent me to a new family. And I told her how much you missed her and the stories I heard from Cordy about her.” He laughed a little before speaking again. “Cordy used to say that you’d travel through the center of the Earth to get to Buffy.”

Shifting uneasily in his seat, Angel stared into his tepid coffee. “How did she respond to all that?”

“Well, she didn’t kill you when you came home. She walked around for a while mumbling about stakes. I took that as my cue to talk to her. She was pretty upset that you hadn’t told her about our history. She knew some stuff, but she had no idea how screwed up it really was.”

“No, I didn’t think she did. I thought it would be best not to tell her. I can barely deal with our past history.”

“She’s pretty strong. She’s a cool chick.”

Smirking, Angel rose to refill his mug and take his plate to the sink. “‘A cool chick,’ huh? I guess that’s a pretty apt description.”

“Yeah. We talked about a bunch of stuff once she wasn’t homicidal.”

“Like what?”

“None of your business.” His tone wasn’t offensive; there was an edge of playfulness in it Angel hadn’t heard in a long time. None the less, Angel wanted an answer.

Looking perturbed, Angel sat back down with hot coffee. Narrowing his eyes at his son, he breathed in a deep breath. “Really? Connor, what did you guys talk about?”

“How ridiculous you are. What she wants to name the baby, if I’m ever going to move out or get another job. Stuff like that.”

Sipping his coffee, Angel leaned back and let his facial features relax. “We talked a little about baby names. She seemed to want to wait until the baby was born to figure it out.”

“She mentioned that you liked the name Brady. I like that name too; it’s very Irish.”

“I’m very Irish. So, what about the moving out and getting a job thing? I don’t want you to go,” he said quickly, “I just wonder what you guys discussed.”

Smiling, Connor nodded slowly. “I like it here. Faith offered me a job yesterday. She called just after I got back from the office. I agreed to be her Director of Students. I get to work with all the slayers, make sure they have adequate housing, that they’re happy with their schedules and all that. They get to come to me before they go her, you know, with problems and concerns and all that. It should be pretty cool.”

Shocked, Angel stared at his son. It took him a moment before he was able to respond. “Are you qualified for that? I mean, are you comfortable with those responsibilities?”

“I have a college degree. I’m good with people and who better to work with slayers than someone who understands what it’s like to be different. I know I’m pretty young to have that position, but this school is pretty haphazardly thrown together. I think you guys are lucky to get me.” The last was spoken with the same playfulness that Angel had so missed hearing.

A rather patronizing smile came to Connor’s face and Angel knew he was being provoked. Knowing these, he still took the bait. “We are not haphazard. We are planning this school very carefully and I think we’ve done a good job considering the time constraints we’ve had. Eight weeks to build a prep school and dormitories isn’t a long time. Not to mention finding teachers.”

“Yeah, you’ve done a pretty good job, I guess. Like I said, you’re lucky to get me. Students go to me and I go to Faith and she goes to Willow and Giles and you. Well, I get to go straight to you if I have a concern about a student that needs your expertise.”

“Expertise?”

“Money. I meant money. If a student had financial difficulties or something, Faith said to bypass her and go to you.”

“That’s really great. Very strategic of you two.”

“Yeah I know. You won’t say ‘no’ to me.”

“I will too.”

Their argument was cut off at the knees as Buffy came in and slowly sat down. She looked unhappy. Glaring in Angel’s direction, he recognized her ‘I’m hungry’ look and rose to make more pancakes. Connor laughed at the entire proceeding.

Connor started with a cheery, “Morning.”

Buffy grunted some kind of noncommittal answer in his direction and rubbed her belly. After a few moments of silence, she looked at Angel with an impatient look on her face.

“When is this baby going to come out?”

“A couple of weeks. Why, are you ready to be done with pregnancy?” Setting a short stack in front of her, he watched her reach across her belly to cut her pancakes.

“I am tired of not being able to see my feet. I want this baby out of me. Can we move this delivery date up?”

“I don’t think that’s really up to us, Buffy.”

Connor rose to serve himself more food. “I think it’s cool that I’m going to get a sibling.” Sitting down, Connor tried to remember what it was like to have younger siblings. His memories were fading a little every day and he was having a hard time remembering what his life had been like. In the past two months, he lost most everything of his other family. He only remembered feelings.

He could remember being happy and content and feeling safe. Sometimes he wondered if those memories of feelings were what kept him sane. He didn’t have to only remember fear and pain and hurt. He could concentrate on what happiness and security felt like.

“Well I want your little brother or sister to come out now. I can barely walk, Angel!”

Not knowing how to respond, Angel stayed silent. She needed to vent her frustrations, he thought. Rising, he kissed her head and went to the sink to rinse the dishes before putting them into the dishwasher. Smiling to himself, he thought about all the things he wanted to do with his second son. He was going to teach him to drive, and tie his shoes and play hockey; most likely not in that order. Starting to loose himself in his own dream world, he barely listened to Buffy and Connor speaking behind him.

“What will you name it if it’s a girl?”

“Don’t call my baby it, please. I was thinking Reagan if we have a girl. That’s a good Irish name; I figured Angel would like it. And it’s unique, which I like. What do you think?”

“It’s pretty. You said you liked the name Brady for a boy?”

“I do. And I know Angel likes that name.”

“He’s all about the Irish names. Actually…” A strange look came across his face as recognition dawned on him. “Angel named me Connor O’Connor, didn’t he? Hey!” Turning around, he looked at his father with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. “What’s with that?”

Dragged from his reverie, Angel turned to his family with a quizzical expression. “What? What did you say, Connor?”

“I said, you named me Connor O’Connor, you jerk!”

“Umm….I did. There’s a reason behind that if you’d like to know.”

Shaking his head and putting his hands in motion that signified ‘well, duh’ Connor looked at Angel expectantly. They could hear Buffy giggling in the background.

“I named you after Conn O’Connor, a legend in Irish history. Conn of the thousand battles. I figured you wouldn’t like the name Conn, so I called you Connor. And I never meant to take my old name again. If it ever came down to it, I was going to choose a new surname.”

“Why didn’t you?’

Shrugging his shoulders, Angel closed the dishwasher door. “Will says I did it to torture myself. I think I was just too lazy to choose anything else.”

Connor’s interest was piqued. “Why does he say it would torture you?”

Angel hesitated a moment before answering. “I didn’t have a great life the first time around. I never wanted to take my fathers’ name; I thought it would bring back bad memories. Will thinks I kept the name as a way to remind myself of an unpleasant past.”

“Is that true?” Leaning back in his chair, Connor was suddenly consumed with curiosity. He had never gotten the chance, or taken the chance when he did have it, to really get to know the man that helped create him. For a long time, Connor had assumed what he knew about Angel was the be all and end all of the man. Connor hadn’t realized that Angel had a life before he was a vampire, and had a life after he had a soul that Connor knew nothing about.

“It was pretty crappy.” Swallowing, he saw Connor about to ask another question and quickly interjected. “Buffy wanted to see sketches.”

Allowing the disappointment to show on his face, Connor turned to Buffy to gauge her reaction. Her eyes were wide and she was obviously interested in whatever Angel was talking about.

“I did! Ooh, ooh, show me!”

Nodding, Angel led the way to his office. Taking silent deep breaths, he was hoping that he had cleared out any embarrassing sketches the night before. Everything he had done that he wished for no one to see was conveniently locked in a drawer in his desk. Thinking back to the previous night, he hoped he had put everything of a compromising nature in that drawer.

Trying to calm his nerves as best he could, he pulled out a large accordion style file organizer and handed it directly to Buffy. He had toyed with paints for a time, but he was going to save those portraits for another time. The image he had been working on for a few months was still safe in its hiding place; he didn’t want Buffy to see that yet. Sitting on the edge of his desk, he watched Connor and Buffy sit down next each other. Connor opened the organizer and pulled out a think stack of sturdy sketching paper.

The first image they saw made them drop their jaws and their eyes widen. The top image was the oldest; he had them categorized in chronological order. The entire collection he had created in Sunnydale and L.A. was in that organizer. All the artwork from older times that he had been able to save, which was a small percentage of the ones he had actually created, were in other folders. He was waiting to judge their reactions to these to decide if he wanted to show them others.

As they went through the images one by one, Buffy’s breath caught. There was an image of her, Giles, Willow, Oz, Cordelia, Xander and Angel standing on the steps of the high school library. She was sure he had never seen such an image, but he had been able to create the image almost perfectly; they all looked the exact way she remembered that. She could even remember the skirt she was wearing in the picture. The black and white charcoal sketch in front of her made her eyes water as she remembered those times.

They overwhelming majority of the images were of Buffy, which made her blush. After a time, she realized that she and Connor had progressed through all the images he had created in Sunnydale. The next sets were of Cordelia, Fred, Wesley, Gunn, Lorne and Connor. She laughed at a picture that looked very much like a candid photograph. Cordelia was yelling at Wesley and Gunn and Fred were in the background frowning and looking rather confused. Lorne was sitting on the desk with his chin on his hand looking impatient. The image conveyed to Buffy much more than Angels’ words about those times ever could. There was humor and love and everything a family was made up of in that picture.

For the next hour, Buffy and Connor perused many of the sketches Angel had created throughout the last decade. Connor became almost visually upset when he saw the images his father had created of him. Connor was an infant, in the arms of the people who had at that time been his family. He became very quiet as they looked at the portraits of baby Connor. The one that struck the young man most was of a laughing Cordelia holding him slightly away from her and up in the air. The image reminded Buffy of pictures she saw in magazines of mothers and bouncing infants.

Finally tearing themselves from the images in front of them, they looked up at Angel, who had been working on a new sketch while they had been looking at his previous ones. Wiping his blackened hands on the towel he kept in his top desk drawer, he managed a small smile in their direction. Leaning back, he cocked his head in their direction as he waited for one of them to say something.

“Oh my God,” were the only words Buffy could manage. The only portrait she had seen of Angels’ was the one he had done of Jenny just before he had killed her. Since that time, she had been almost afraid to ask him to see his artwork. Now, though, she couldn’t wait to see more.

“I didn’t know you did that.” Connor was staring down at the portrait of Cordy holding him like a proud mother.

Seeing the look on Connor’s face, Angel rose and went to his bookshelf. Removing one tome, he opened it and removed a photograph from a cut out section of the books insides. Handing the picture to Connor, he sat on the edge of the desk and watched his sons’ expression.

“I have a whole album of things like that. I keep that one there because it was where I kept it after I had your memories erased. The albums were erased to; I had them in a storage container. That one I negotiated to keep. The albums reappeared when your memories did. I dug them out of storage a few weeks ago. It’s a good thing I never got rid of the unit.”

Buffy looked at him quizzically. “I didn’t know you kept a storage unit.”

“I have nooks all over town with things hidden in them.”

“That’s odd.”

“I needed to keep things like that private. You can keep that, Connor. I think I have a frame for it somewhere.”

He swallowed hard before answering in a very low voice. “Thank you.” The photograph showed Angel smiling, holding an infant in his arms as he sat on a red circular couch in the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel. Cordelia was leaning over him, smiling down at the infant. Gunn, Fred, Wesley and Lorne were smiling at the camera.

“Lorne set the camera to take it. I didn’t know it was about to go off. You made this sound; it was the cutest thing I had ever heard.” A sad smile crossed Angels’ face as he remembered being a dad for a few precious months.

Buffy averted her eyes as father and son shared a silent moment. She felt almost voyeuristic watching Angel in this manner. Seeing images of Angel as a father made her heart ache for joy and longing all at the same time. Her earnest desire to have memories and photographs of Angel and their baby seemed to burn a whole into her heart. She wanted what she could she Angel had once had, and she wanted to be able to share that joy and keep it for all her life.

Taking a deep breath, Angel tried to shake the melancholy that had come over him. “All right. Time for a field trip.” Standing, he took Buffy’s hand and motioned for Connor to follow him. It was time his son saw where he had come from.

. . .

Chapter 52

He could hear Dawn moving around in the bedroom. Taking a deep breath, he quickly went through the litany of reasons and explanations for last night that he could use to reason with her. Opening the door, he greeted a bedraggled looking Dawn; her hair was hanging at odd angles and her mascara and eyeliner were smudged around her face. He couldn’t help but smile.

“You look like you had a good time.”

“Oh, the best.” Sarcasm was dripping from her words as she wrapped the hotel’s terry cloth robe around herself and started for the bathroom. “I love waking up and feeling like I got hit by a truck.”

“I think we had a good time.”

He watched her disappear into the bathroom and thanked the heavens that she hadn’t found the marriage license yet. She needed to shower and relax a little before those flood gates broke, he thought. Dressing quickly, he looked at the black dress on the floor. There was no way she would want to wear than again tonight, he realized.

Calling the concierge while Dawn was in the shower, Will explained the problem and gave the man Dawn’s dress and shoe sizes. He had to look at the bottom of one of her stilettos to figure out the last one. After being assured something would be done to take care of his dilemma, Will asked that a few things be found for him as well. He ordered room service as he heard the shower being turned off.

Smiling at a wet and beautiful Dawn, he sat on the bed and watched her towel dry her hair as she sat at the desk. “I ordered room service,” he said.

“Good. I’m hungry.” After drying her hair to her satisfaction, she turned in her seat and looked at him quizzically. “What did we do last night? I’m fuzzy after the time we went to the nightclub.”

“Me too. Actually, I get fuzzy somewhere around when we were leaving the nightclub. You don’t remember anything after that, do you?” Fighting an urge to cross his fingers, he hoped she would remember something; he didn’t want to explain anything if he didn’t have to.

“Umm…I kind of remember a cab ride and a lot of making out. And there was…were there flowers? I think I remember flowers on the walls. Like, hanging from the walls. Was that some kind of dream?” Standing, she stretched before coming to the bed and sitting next to him.

“I don’t think that was a dream. Dawn…I don’t know how to tell you this. Umm…I think…I think we got married last night.”

A blank stare was on her face. After a few seconds, a short and harsh laughter escaped her lips. “No we didn’t. I think I would remember that.” He interpreted the look on her face as meaning he was an idiot.

Silently, he opened the drawer to the nightstand and handed her the paper he had secreted there earlier. “I found that when I woke up.”

She stared at it long time. Feeling as though her breath was coming too fast, she put her head on her knees. Trying to get her lungs to slow their pace, she took a few deep breaths. Rising to her full height and straightening her back, she tried to put the strongest look she could on her face.

“We’ll have to get it erased, or annulled or something.”

“Annulment is a religious thing, I think.”

“Whatever! We have to fix this! We can’t be married!”

Leaning back on the bed, he tried to take the sadness out of his expression. “Why not?”

Her jaw dropped to the floor as she stared at him in disbelief. “Why not? Are you serious? What do you mean, why not? We can’t be married, Will! We’re barely a couple. We broke up yesterday! We got back together, but still, we broke up. And we aren’t compatible and no one will understand and why are you being difficult?”

“Divorce is a public concern. If we get divorced, people will find out we were married, or are together, or whatever. Dawn, this is a no win situation. I mean, I’m…I’m not that upset.”

Grabbing a pillow, she threw it at him as hard as she could. Throwing her hands into the air, she screamed, “You aren’t upset? We got married last night!”

Her ranting was interrupted by a knock at the door. Frowning, Will rose to accept the lunch he had ordered and a note stating that their new clothes would be sent to their room soon. Thanking the deliverer, he closed the door and released a slow breath. Before Dawn could explode again, he lifted the silver lids from the dishes and handed her a plate. The look on her face could have melted less confident men.

Sitting on the couch that was before the television, she ate in silence, trying to think of what they were going to do. Will was obviously not very upset with the idea that he was married to her. She, on the other hand, was scared out of her wits. She was in no way ready to be married, she thought. Stabbing at her crab salad, she tried to lay out an argument in her head that would make sense to him.

“We can’t be married. We don’t live together and we have no rings. We can’t tell anybody because Buffy would kill you. Therefore, we have to figure out a way to make this go away. Maybe…maybe we could wait until everyone is really preoccupied and then get a quiet divorce. Maybe, like, fake an apocalypse so no one notices us. We could do that, right?”

He let the disbelief register on his face. Sure he hadn’t heard her correctly; he shook his head and finished his sandwich. “Dawn. Listen to me. We are married. We don’t have to live together and we don’t have to tell anyone. This doesn’t have to change our relationship.”

“It changes everything! We can never go back to the way we were! Don’t you understand, this means that we are together forever. There is no going back if we stay married. I can’t just leave you; this is very complicated.”

“So don’t leave me. Dawn, I was planning on marrying you anyway.” He let that information set in while he poured himself another glass of water. Taking his seat on the armchair perpendicular to the couch, he leaned back and watched the emotions play on her face.

She was quickly progressing from shock to anger to dismay. “You were? You wanted to marry me? And when was I going to learn about this?”

“Don’t look so sad. I didn’t say anything that should make you feel that way. You are the only woman I can imagine spending the rest of my life with. You know…I was talking to Angel about this the other day. We were talking about how we won’t live forever anymore. He said he wasn’t scared of death; that he was looking forward to an end to his saga. I feel just the opposite. I’m terrified of getting old, Dawn. I’m terrified of dying. I feel like my life is wasting away.

I get up in the morning, I go to work. I come home, I play the guitar, I see you, and I go to bed. I do it all over again every day. There’s nothing extraordinary, nothing to make my life complete. If I go through this same routine every day for the rest of my life, I’ll go insane. I want something more. I want a wife and a family and someone to leave something to. I’m tired of being alone, Dawn. So, I think I should be with you. I love you; I know you love me even though you don’t know it yet. Maybe this was the kick start we needed.”

Covering her eyes with her hands, she tried to gain control over her emotions before she spoke. Not sure if she should be angry or flattered, she took deep breaths before saying anything.

“Okay…let’s say I agree with you about the being alone part. I don’t like that either. So, neither of us wants to be alone. You love me. I’m not sure I can reciprocate. Besides, that, though, Will, I don’t think I want a family. I don’t think I ever want to bring children into this world.”

He looked for a moment as if he had been hit with a sledge hammer. Recovering rather quickly, he leaned forward and stared into her eyes with intensity. “You are too scared to love because you have seen how much hurt your mom and sister went through. I am not your dad, Dawn. I will not leave you. I am not Angel; I can’t lose my soul and go ape shit. Get it? You are stuck with me.”

Swallowing hard, she fought the urge to throw her plate at him. He looked so confident, she thought, it drove her out of her mind. Wondering what the best tact would be, she thought for a long time before saying anything. Finally, when she had reached a conclusion, she lifted her head and leaned back on the couch, blowing out a long breath. “Will…oh, I give up. Okay, we’re not getting a divorce. Where do we go from here?”

He smiled a little, but he felt he had won a hollow victory. He didn’t want her to be with him by default. He wanted her to want it. “You said yesterday that if you left me, you’d be an idiot. You said yourself that I’m good for you. Why don’t you want me, Dawn?”

Shock crossed her face briefly before she got control of her features again. “I do want you. I want you a lot. I just…don’t know if I’ll want you in a year or in ten years or in twenty. What if I don’t?”

“Are you going to let that fear stop you from ever having a real relationship? Why give in to that fear, Dawn?”

Putting her head back, she stared long and hard at the ceiling. “Maybe I do love you,” she whispered. “Isn’t that odd? You were such a bastard. It wasn’t your fault, really. You didn’t have a soul. But then you got a soul and you went nuts. You hurt Buffy in so many ways. I should hate you just for that. But you are such a good guy now. I mean, you’re caring and nice and funny and you are so good to me. Is that love? Is that enough?”

“Love is a choice, Dawn. We choose to love people. That choice has to be accompanied by emotion. I didn’t choose to love Buffy; I let my cock and my emotions lead me to do what I did to her. She was part of that equation, though, you know. I know, Dawn, that I love you. Really and truly. I couldn’t love before I had a soul; I had nothing to love with. Now, I am making a choice with my mind and heart and soul and body all in accordance. Every part of me is aching for you. I know it’s weird. You don’t think I remember Sunnydale and ask myself what the hell I’m doing with you? You were a whiny little brat. You were annoying and socially awkward. But I love you. I love you because I remember the girl you used to be and I see the woman you are now. I can’t get rid of you Dawn. You’re in the fiber of my being.”

Silent tears fell down her cheeks as she tried not to make eye contact with him. Wiping her cheeks and licking her dry lips, she focused on a fiber on the carpet. She felt hands on her shoulders and his presence in front of her before her mind had registered that he had moved.

“Let me in. Just let me in, Dawn.”

Putting her head on his shoulder, she sniffed and nodded. “I can try. You’re too stubborn to let me get away with this, aren’t you? Why couldn’t you just let me alone? Why do you have to be…this way?”

Smiling slowly, he grabbed her and drew her close. “You are a stupid little trollop. Do you know that? You show up in my apartment naked and conniving and think I won’t come to love you? You think that being amazing and beautiful and intelligent and kindhearted are turn offs? Dawn, I had to love you. I couldn’t ever love anyone else after you.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Pulling away from him slightly, she wiped her eyes again. “I want to spend more time with you. I don’t think we should live together, yet, but maybe I could move stuff in? You know, like have a drawer or something?”

“You can have the whole damn dresser. And the closet if you want it.”

Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door. Looking alarmed, she was about to question him but stopped as he rose. Realizing he had been expecting someone, she pulled the robe closer around her and made sure her eyes were dry. When she looked to the doorway, her mouth parted in shock and awe. Two bellmen were wheeling metal carts that had hanging from them about a dozen outfits all wrapped in the same plastic her drycleaner used.

“I thought you would want new clothes. That dress isn’t very appropriate for daylight.” Looking out the window, he frowned, “though that is burning quickly.”

When she didn’t move, he gently took her elbow and steered her off the couch and to the two racks of clothes. One rack had men’s clothing hanging from it. Indicating the female clothes, he smiled at her and nodded.

“Well, go on then. Do you want all of it or does something offend you? Just tell these guys and they’ll take it away.” Grabbing an outfit from his selection, he indicated with a hand motion that the rest could go back to wherever it came from. “I’m going to go get dressed. Thanks gents.”

She stared for a few seconds, her brain trying to register that he had thought of her enough to do this. It was only a few seconds before her shopping addiction took full force and she was looking at the ten outfits, she counted, that were before her. Thanking the men that had brought the clothes, she kept half of them. All of them were beautiful but she felt greedy accepting the lot of them. The shoes on the bottom of the cart had been unloaded onto the floor as she had perused the clothing.

When he came out of the bathroom, she was rearranging items on the bed. “Do you like it? We can get dressed and go shopping if you don’t. I might want to slit my wrists, but I’d risk it for you.”

“These are excellent. How did you do this?”

“I tipped the concierge very well. And he knows me from when I used to stay here a couple times a month. I asked him to bring you some things you could wear tonight; I think he called a boutique his girlfriend works at. Are they alright?”

Smiling, she chose a white dress with a bright blue belt and matching blue shoes. Slipping the robe over her shoulders, she pulled the dress over her naked form. The flowing material hugged her body and the belt accentuated her already thin waste. He watched as the outlines of her breasts became visible through the thin fabric. She looked sexy but not overdone. Shaking out her now dry hair, she went through her purse until she found a hair tie and pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail. It took about five minutes for her to apply powder to he face and lipstick and gloss to her lips.

He laughed at how absurdly quickly she had gotten ready. He stopped when he realized something was missing from the outfit. “You aren’t wearing underwear.” His face fell as hers suddenly took on an impish look.

“I guess I could.” Smiling at his reaction, she slipped her underwear on and was out the door before he could get his shoes on.

Laughing to himself, he wondered what he had just gotten himself into. She was moody, impish and unpredictable. Sighing, he hoped he could keep up with his new wife. She was certainly going to keep him on his toes, he thought.

. . .

Chapter 53

The dust immediately filled their nostrils. Covering her nose with her sleeve, she looked to Angel with a questioning glance. He was too busy staring at unseen memories and dancing ghosts to pay any attention to what Buffy and Connor were saying or doing behind him. The sun was shining in through the patio door, illuminating dust molecules as they floated throughout the room. Taking a deep breath, Angel tried not to sneeze as he led his son and girlfriend into the Hyperion Hotel.

White drape cloths covered the counters and furniture; Angel could remember the last time he had come here and draped everything. He had been alone in the early morning hours five years ago. Covering everything in site other than the floors had given him a sense of covering his past. It had been, not cathartic, but a catalyst for the development of new goals. Putting Angel Investigations behind him once and for all, he thought, would help him to focus on the future.

The alley where the final battle had taken place was behind one wall and a world away. If he tried to remember that night, which he wouldn’t, he would remember the smell of burning flesh and blood and rotten walking corpses. He could remember the sounds of his friends screaming their last breaths if he tried, but he would not try to remember anything that painful, anything that he had tried to erase away through traveling in different dimensions, moving time and reality.

“Do you remember this, Connor?”

The young man was watching his own ghosts play in front of him. He could see the area where he leapt through a dimensional portal with intents to kill his father. He could see Lorne and Gunn and Fred walking around, looking at him. Memories of feeling like an outsider, like he didn’t belong, started to claw at the inside of his skull. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Angel and tried to shake the feelings he was being bombarded with.

“I remember a lot of things about this place.”

Touching the drape clothes delicately, Buffy turned to father and son. “This is the hotel that Angel Investigations was headquartered in? Willow told me about coming here a few times.”

Nodding, Angel pointed to the office with closed blinds, “that was the main office. We did a lot of work here. Good work.”

Swallowing hard, Connor looked at Angel and tried not to feel as if he was about to collapse within himself. He hadn’t thought coming here would be this emotional. “What did we come here for? You were all cryptic and stuff in the car.”

Allowing himself a small smile, he motioned for them to follow him up the stairs. Looking over his shoulder at Buffy, he made sure she was taking the steps slowly before continuing up the staircase. Once to the second floor, he led them down the hall to his old room. Pulling the key from his pocket, which he grabbed from his desk before leaving the house, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The room was dark and there was a fine layer of dust covering every surface. Looking to the bed, he grabbed the comforter, pulling it away and revealing a dust free sheet. Buffy sat down almost immediately, her hands on her stomach. Giving Angel a reassuring look, she nodded her head as a sign that he should continue.

“I keep a majority of things in storage units, leased different names. I’m a little paranoid about people finding things they aren’t supposed to find. Anyway, I went to the storage unit a few weeks ago and found all the albums I had. Cordy was a nut about these things. She used to sit for hours with you next to her and paste pictures into the albums. There’re two, I think. We took a lot of pictures of you.”

He had been going through boxes at the bottom of the closet as he spoke. Finding a brown cardboard box, he smiled apprehensively and opened the top. Lifting two photo albums out of the box, he handed them to Connor. Placing the comforter upside down on the arm chair, he sat on the dust-free side. Putting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his fist, he watched the two people he loved most in the world go through photos of Angel Investigations and baby Connor.

“After you…left, Cordy went…well; she tried to deal as best she could. She found all the pictures of you she had on her computer and in her camera, the ones she hadn’t used before in the albums, and put all of them in there. It was therapeutic.”

Looking up from a picture of a smiling Gunn and confused looking Angel, she looked at her soon-to-be husband in a new light. “Angel, I can’t imagine…what did you do?”

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the floor before answering. “I went to bed for a long time.” When he had the courage to look back at Buffy, he saw her wiping her damp eyes. Swallowing a lot of pain that he had wished forgotten, he held himself still. They deserved to look at his past without his interference, he thought.

Connor was slowly turning pages. The first album was mostly of the first few years of Angel Investigations. Cordelia had organized them in a roughly chronological order; Connor felt as if he was watching a movie documenting Angel's life. The first images, and there were few, were of a very different looking Wesley and a perpetually unsmiling Angel. A few were of a man Connor didn’t recognize at all.

“Who’s this?” Lifting the page so Angel could see, he watched the reaction on his father’s face.

Angel hadn’t needed Connor to show him the image to know who his son was referring to. There was only one man in that album Connor would not recognize. “His name was Doyle. He was my first seer, before he gave Cordy the visions. He died to save my life.” The last was spoken in a hushed voice. Angel had though that he had recovered from Doyle’s’ death, but the pain felt as fresh as it had eight years ago.

Nodding slowly, Connor continued to the next page. In one picture, Angel had a half smile. The images progressed quickly through the early years of Angel Investigations; there were scant photos of those times. He and Buffy looked though the first album with a growing understanding of what Angel’s life had been like. When they reached the next album, they saw something they had rarely seen in the first.

Angel was smiling. In almost every picture, he was smiling. Buffy released a sad and amazed breath. Seeing images of Angel holding and smiling down at an infant made her ache to have her own baby, to watch Angel with their child. There were pictures of everyone holding baby Connor. One in particular, of a distressed looking Gunn looking in the direction of Fred, holding baby Connor, made both Buffy and Connor laugh.

It was a long time before they closed the albums. Sighing, Angel leaned back, his muscles protesting having been in one position for so long. “You can keep any you want, Connor.”

“I don’t want to break up the album. Let’s just take them home.”

Nodding, Angel stood. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Buffy. The contemplative longing on her face was evident. Her hands were circling her belly, one hand on each the top and bottom of her protruding abdomen. Taking the hand that was on top of her abdomen, Angel smiled at her.

“We’ll have that, Buffy. You’ll have that.”

Standing, she put her arm around his waist and allowed him to lead her down the stairs. At times, she was amazed at how much she wanted her child. When she had first realized she was pregnant, her overwhelming emotions had consisted mainly of fright and dread. Now, though, she wanted to be a mother more than anything else.

They left rather unceremoniously. Neither Connor nor Angel wanted to stay in the place hat held so many memories. Taking deep breaths once they were outside, Connor held the albums closer to his chest. They were precious to him, and he was going to preserve them to the best of his abilities. Looking at pictures of his father in the years before his birth reminded Connor that Angel had a life before him.

Buffy got into the back of the SUV; she felt the back seat gave her more stomach room. Leaning against the corner of the door jam, she sighed and put one leg on the seat as she buckled her seat belt. She hadn’t been so concerned with that kind of safety until she had become pregnant. Closing her eyes, she listened to her stomach growl and felt her baby kick all at the same time. As much as she wanted to give birth and walk without waddling, it was going to be strange to be without the constant presence of her baby inside her.

“Baby and I are hungry. We get violent when we’re hungry.”

Connor put a look of mock horror on his face. “Angel, the slayer and slayer junior are hungry. Fear for your life.”

Smiling a real smile for the first time all day, he nodded and drove towards a deli he knew Buffy would like. “This place has chicken salad, Buffy.” He let those words linger as her eyes got bigger.

“Chicken salad! We’re going there, right?”

“Yes. And I thought cravings only lasted in the first few months of pregnancy? Your taste buds have been demanding all throughout. Was this pregnancy thing just a ploy to eat new things?” Looking in the rear view mirror, he grinned at her to let her know he was joking. He was rewarded by her sticking her tongue out at him.

“Baby likes what baby likes. That’s it. It’s not me, Angel. Talk to your kid about these cravings.”

Allowing himself a small laugh, Angel looked to his right. Connor was staring into the last page of the second photo album. The pictures that Cordy had at first deemed unsuitable for the album but later included after Connor’s kidnapping. The last photo was blurry and unfocused. Angel was in motion, walking towards a basinet that presumably held his infant son. The look on his face was that of concern and determination, as if Connor was about to be attacked and Angel was getting ready to defend him. In realty, Connor thought, Angel had probably been going to him because he was crying. The look on his father’s face, though, reminded him how much he had been loved and how outrageous the lies he had been told really were.

“Was I a good baby?” The question was unexpected, and Angel glanced quickly in his sons’ direction.

“A good baby? I don’t think babies can be bad. Do you mean did you cry a lot or sleep well or things like that?” At Connors nod, Angel continued. “You were great. You slept solidly when you did sleep. You smiled all the time. You were the happiest baby, or as happy as I can imagine babies being. You made these noises, they were so cool.”

Connor and Buffy watched Angel's face as he spoke. Buffy, at one point in time in her life, would have called Angel's current expression goofy. Now, she called it sentimental. Watching him remember being a dad was beautiful, she thought. Connor tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. He would be around nine years old, he thought, if he hadn’t been kidnapped and taken to hell. Trying to force away his regrets and useless wishes, he concentrated on the place Angel was now parking behind.

Angel ordered at the counter for him and Buffy and waited for Connor to order for himself before paying the bill. Grabbing a bag of salt and vinegar kettle chips, he gave the bag to Buffy. He could hear her stomach growling and didn’t think she could wait fifteen minutes for food.

Connor stole a few chips when he thought Buffy wasn’t looking. She jabbed him playfully in the shin with her foot for his treachery. Reaching her hand under the table, she set it atop Angel's thigh. Smiling at him in a reassuring way, she squeezed his leg a little. The movement was cute and comforting, he thought. Smiling at her, he leaned over and kissed her cheek briefly. They heard Connor making gagging sounds across the table.

“I thought only kids did that?”

“No. I’m allowed to gag at any kind of displays of affection you show anyone until I’m about thirty-five. Those are the rules.”

“Whose rules?”

“Well…my rules. What other rules would matter?”

“You know, I always thought you would grow out of the bratty behavior by the time you were in your twenties.”

“You were wrong.” Connor gave his father a sickening sweet smile that made Angel want to smack the back of Connor’s head. Realizing his arm wasn’t that long and he would have to get up to do that, he settled instead for leaning back and giving the young man a disapproving look.

Buffy gave them both disapproving looks. “You two bicker like it’s your job. Shut up please.” Licking salt off her fingers, she looked gratefully at the waitress that delivered her chicken salad sandwich.

Sighing through the first few heavenly bites, she suddenly looked thoughtful. Swallowing her food, she sipped her soda and looked towards Angel. “Hey, where’s my sister? I haven’t talked to her in days.”

Fighting to keep from choking on his cheese steak, he somehow kept the surprise off his face. “Dawn? I have no idea.”

“Hmm. Someone should check into that.”

Staring down into his sandwich, Angel silently agreed. Someone should look into where Dawn was. He had a sinking suspicion that he would find his best friend wherever he found he found his future sister in law. Sighing quietly, he hoped they hadn’t gotten into too much trouble during their making up session.

. . .

Chapter 54

The turning earth was giving off a sweet organic smell. She hadn’t ever thought, before a few years ago, that she would like such a scent. Now, she wished she could wake up to it every day. She had no idea what kind of money Angel was paying these people to work on the weekends, but she was glad they were. The school would never be done in time if the crews only worked five days a week. Some of them were even working Sundays, she had learned from the foreman.

Wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a yellow hard hat, Faith brushed her hair away from her eyes. A few of the guys had looked in her direction and one or two had gotten up the nerve to whistle. Before, she would have beaten them into ground meat. Now, she gave them a rude hand gesture and a sweet smile. They laughed, which was a much more rewarding reaction that screams of terror.

Walking throughout the site, she looked at the foundation walls, which were being built for the house style dormitories at the West side of the property. When the construction was done, there would be room for one-hundred and fourteen slayers. Eight houses that would house eight girls each were being built along the West fence, surrounded by woods behind them and the gymnasium in front of them.

Two dormitories were being built at the East end; they would house twenty-five slayers each. Faith had decided that more housing buildings holding a smaller number of girls would be better than forcing fifty or so to live together. She was trying to avoid fights before they even began. Having read up on all-girl schools, Faith knew the troubles she might have to face.

The old high school was being remodeled into something that would serve for classrooms and a few sparring rooms. Most of the sparring, though, would be conducted in the gym. Three different construction crews had been contracted to work on the project. One crew was working on the houses, another was remodeling the school and the third was finishing the structural supports for the gym and indoor pool area.

A landscaping firm had sent thirteen people to try and make the property look beautiful; they had tried explaining what kind of trees they were planting, but Faith had lost interest in the conversation almost immediately. She had remembered to write herself a note about hiring gardeners, though. A paving company was creating a gated entrance and parking lot for the administrators and professors and whatever students had vehicles. Once that was done, they would move on to the basketball and tennis courts and outdoor eating area.

The sketches Angel had sent her included every amenity he could think of. He wanted the academy to be almost self-sufficient. She was sure that when Angel finally negotiated the deal for more land from whoever owned the surrounding properties that he would want to place restaurants and a few clothing stores on the campus. He had mentioned something about creating a small town for the slayers. Faith thought the idea was phenomenal, but she was also slightly alarmed at the idea that the slayers would never leave their area and venture into the real world.

The school was designed almost like a college and boarding school hybrid. The girls would be allowed to leave the campus, with certain conditions. Classes were mandatory, as were training sessions. Privileges were to be earned at this school, Faith had decided. Fights, skipped classes or training sessions would mean a kind of house arrest. The campus, however, was going to offer enough for the girls to do that Faith doubted they would want to leave very often.

Basketball and tennis courts were on the north end. The dormitories would be very close to those courts. The school, outdoor eating area and cafeteria were clustered together, and separated from the gymnasium by soccer and softball fields. In addition to the fields, there were picnic areas, woods with hiking trails, and an outdoor obstacle field and running track.

Smiling to herself, she stood in front of the school, looking at the blueprints for the large piece of land. Angel had insisted the entire facility be fenced in. She understood his reasoning; he only wanted one attack point for an enemy to use if the slayer school became known about. She smiled at his paranoia, but agreed with it to a certain degree. The fence would be over twelve feet high, and was being built behind preexisting woods and forests. They were going to use nature to their advantage.

The site was a few hours from L.A., but the drive was pleasant. The area was quiet and Angel had found some old millionaire that had bought the school after the town around it disappeared. Faith thought that was odd, but there were other towns in California that had ended up as ghost towns. The original school had been built by a wealthy man as a sort of charter school for special needs children. The project had been finished, but hadn’t gone according to plan. Faith hadn’t heard the entire story; she was just glad Angel had found such a perfect location for the Academy.

Crossing her arms across her chest, she turned to see a Jeep driving along the make-shift roads the construction crews had created. Smiling, she simply raised her eyebrows and waited for the Jeep to park. A smiling Xander exited the vehicle and accepted the hard hart she offered him.

“I thought these things went out of style.”

“I got yelled at for not wearing one.”

His eyebrows raised in unabashed shock. “Is this person still alive? Someone yelled at you and you’re still smiling?”

“I’m doing this whole self control thing. It’s a new for me.”

“Yeah.” Following her to the wide bench with blueprints scattered on it, Xander carefully went through each one before speaking.

“Well, these are good. Really good. I would have moved the cafeteria about ten feet to the right, but what can you do? Anyway, why did you want me to come out here?”

Taking a deep breath, she started, “Well, I know about as much about construction as I know about knitting. I figured you, being mister carpenter person, could give this all a look over and tell me if everything’s as smooth as I want it to be.”

Nodding, he pulled a few blueprints towards him and traced lines with his fingers. “Everything looks good. A little ambitious, maybe.”

“Yeah, blame Angel for that.”

“Oh, you didn’t want the soccer field?” he joked, “Well, I mean, it’s a lot. A lot to get done in the next couple months, especially. But I saw the name of three different companies as I pulled up here, so I guess it can get done. And they’re working on Saturday.”

“Angel’s giving them double time to work weekends. And they go about sixteen hours a day.”

“Wow. That’s’…intense. Anyway, yeah, I guess it all looks good. If it can get done in time, I will be very impressed. I have no doubt, though, that these guys want to get paid. So I think they will work as hard as they can to get this done. And I wouldn’t want to make you mad. That would be enough to make me get this done.”

Smirking, she turned around and leaned against the work bench. “Is this going to work, Xan? Can this school really turn into what Willow and Angel want it to be? Willow emailed me this morning; she sent digital pictures of the insides of the classrooms and the administration building. She said an interior design firm used some computer program to create a blueprint of what the interiors will look like. It was pretty neat, but I don’t know if we can get this done in time.”

“Well, I think we have to. This is what, like, a billion dollar deal? They want this to work. And it has to, there are slayers trying to patrol with no training and no leadership. We know of two girls that have died this year because of lack of practice in the field. I’m amazed the number isn’t higher. The thing is, though, we aren’t sure if new girls will be activated since those two died. Are all of them, for this entire generation, activated or can there be more? We have to get them to safe places to train them and figure this stuff out.”

“We have to track them down first. We have, what, five hundred now? That we know of? It isn’t as if we can put adds in international papers asking all super-powered young women to call us.”

“Well, we could do that, but we’d probably get some thirty-something year old woman using a towel as a cape telling us she’s Wonder Woman incarnate. So I vote to not do that.”

“I don’t really have any good ideas for tracking these girls down. It can’t be easy; keeping something like that a secret. I know I wouldn’t tell anyone. Men in white coats would come to take you away.”

Shrugging, he turned back to the blueprints. “It was tough for Buffy and she had friends that knew about it. Being all alone on that journey, that would be really hard.” Pausing long enough to find the schematics he wanted, he turned to Faith with a curious glance. “Have you guys thought about protection?”

“Protection? What, you mean like guard towers with snipers on them?”

“No. I was thinking of something more along the lines of an escape route. If I were a demon, I wouldn’t attack a place with sixty-three student slayers. And I definitely wouldn’t attack when you were on campus. But you won’t always be here and some of these girls have no training whatsoever. I would have some kind of underground system to get out. Or at least an escape route. I get what Angel wants, with the one entrance, but that also means you guys are trapped if that’s blocked.”

“I think he thought of that.” Looking through the pile of papers, she found the one she had noticed earlier. “Look at this. I think this part,” pointing to a tunnel on the blueprint, “is underground. Doesn’t it look like it is?”

He stared for a few minutes. Whoever had designed the plans was using a code he had never seen. If he was reading the drawing right, there were underground tunnels throughout the system of buildings. However, he wasn’t sure if they were sewer pipes, water pipes, or escape tunnels. The coding was something very unique to whoever had designed the project.

“They’re underground alright. I just don’t know what they are. Call Angel, he’ll know what’s going on, hell, he probably designed this code.”

“He’s kind of secretive about this stuff, isn’t he?” If a voice could be dry, hers was. She sounded less than amused and slightly perturbed by her observation.

“He is. I think he lets us on to about ten percent of the actual plan. He does that with everybody though.”

Shaking her head, she said, “I’ll call him. Honestly, I never know what he’s gonna say. He could come right out and say, ‘yeah, I have an underground railway and a train waiting to take all of them away,’ or he could say, ‘I’ll think about it,’ and never bring it up again. I just never know.”

“It worries me.” Looking directly at Faith, he tried to gauge her response to his statement. She was more difficult to read than Angel, at times.

“I’m not worried. More frustrated. He compartmentalizes like no other. Anyway, it’s hot, I’m hungry, and I want to get out of here. Want to go for a beer?”

Making no effort to hide his surprise, a slow smile crept to his lips as he spoke, “going for a beer with Faith. Never in my wildest dreams did I think of that. And I had some wild dreams about you.”

“I bet you did, stud. Don’t get any ideas; I think I found a man already.”

“You work fast. You’ve been in California for like five minutes.”

“Jealous?” Turning, she flipped the hard hat onto the table and headed for her car. Smiling over her shoulder at him, she laughed before getting behind the wheel. She had missed tormenting Xander.

Shaking his head, Xander started the Jeep and followed Faith away from the multiple work sites. Looking at his watch, he realized he had only about ten hours before he had to catch his flight to Chicago. He figured that was long enough to have a beer and some onion rings with Faith and still be able to grab his already packed bags.

Trying to keep up with the speed demon slayer, he smiled at how much she had changed. She was turning into a pretty neat woman, he mused. Ready to see another woman, he convinced himself that he wasn’t nervous about his latest trip. This trip had nothing to do with Wolfram and Hart; it was personal. Pressing the accelerator so as not to loose the slayer he was following, he told himself he was ready for his impromptu vacation.

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