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What It Means To Be Alive, Part 2 (Page 2 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: Please read and review!

. . .

Chapter 40

Will paced Angel’s office. He had been waiting for nearly thirty minutes for the president of the company to actually show up to work. When Angel finally walked in, Will wasted no time in recounting the story of his previous night. Listening quietly, Angel unpacked his briefcase and settled papers on his desk. When he thought Will had finally finished his tirade, Angel sat on the couch near the wall length windows.

“So you screwed up.”

“It was her fault! Bloody hell, Angel, what am I gonna do?” He was still pacing.

Taking a deep breath, Angel thought for a few moments before calling Wesley and asking if Dawn had come into work yet. She had not. He hung with Wes and slowly sat down in front of his pacing friend. “She never came in today. Where would she go? You need to get her to talk to you.”

“She would be in her apartment talking to Dennis. I’m pretty sure that’s where she would be. I don’t know anymore. And what am I going to tell Faith? She thinks I’m mad at her now. Angel, why do I screw everything up? Can’t I do anything right?”

“I ask myself that same question on a rather regular basis. I’ve been told it has something to do with being human. Anyway, call her. Keep calling her. Leave early today and go to her apartment. I wouldn’t go now; she needs some time to cool off. Faith should be coming in soon, go talk to her first. That’s the easier of the two to deal with right now.”

“This sucks so much.”

“Get out of here. I have real work to do and you have to talk to Faith.”

After showing Will out, Angel sighed heavily and dropped into his chair. Everyone around him seemed to be coming apart at the seams and he was still holding strong. He was amazed that he was the one who wasn’t collapsing under the pressure. Sighing again, he started going through the cases he hadn’t been able to go over the previous day. Some of them were very interesting. Without Buffy in the office for the past few weeks many new conflicts had began; there was currently no one to mediate them.

Lawsuits were flying between the more developed demon nations and fights were starting between the less developed. One lawsuit dealt with an illegitimate son and stolen basket of sacrificial plants. It was very complicated.

Angel didn’t recognize the passing of time until there was a soft knock at the door. Glancing briefly at the clock, he was surprised to realize it was almost one in the afternoon. Connor stepped through the large double doors and walked slowly into the office, his hands in his pockets. Taking a seat in one of the arm chairs, he looked at Angel and waited for the other man to join him. The space in front of Angels’ desk was free of places for people sit; it was strategically designed that way. He didn’t want anyone to get the impression that they were welcome to have meetings with him in his office. If someone wanted to talk to him, they were forced to stand in front of his desk. Only his friends and family knew enough to sit in the lounge area at the far side of the office.

Before joining his son, Angel took the opportunity to order lunch for he and Connor. Lazily putting his feet on the ottoman in front of him, Angel leaned back in his seat and focused on his son.

“So what’s up?”

“Wes called me a little while ago. He said I should come in and look at some stuff. I think he just wants me to get out of the house.”

“Anything new?”

Connor shook his head rather sadly. “I know they’re looking for that guy. I’m just…I jut don’t think we’ll ever find them. I don’t think we’ll ever really get to make them pay. Not even that, I just want justice. That’s all. Just justice.”

“Justice is hard to come by some times.”

Angel’s secretary brought in salads and sandwiches and set them on the coffee table in front of the two men. After thanking her, Angel asked her to have Wesley call him later. Nodding her ascent, she left the office, leaving the two men alone once again. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Angel spoke.

“Connor, we will find these people. It takes time. I know that’s hard to listen to, but it’s true. It could take a long time to find these people. They were very good, very careful. And to be honest…we don’t know what they had planned as their end game. I can’t imagine they just wanted to torture you for fun. I think there was some larger plan. I’m not sure what that is yet though.”

Chewing slowly, Connor considered his father’s words carefully. He didn’t want to try and be patient. He didn’t want to wait nicely; he wanted to go through the streets and beat things into bloody pulps until he found the people who had destroyed his life. When he really thought about what his father was saying, though, he realized that there was more in store for him. Angel was right, Connor realized, there was no reason to kill his family and then let him alone. There had to be a bigger purpose, a higher goal than depressing and destroying him. He wasn’t that important.

“What could be the end game? What would be the purpose of torturing me? I’m nobody. I don’t even hunt demons anymore. I’m no threat to anyone.”

Angel swallowed hard; fighting the guilt that was starting to wash over him in great cascading waves. “You’re my son. That’s enough to make you a threat. There are great plans for your life, Connor. You weren’t meant to live through what you lived through without fighting for a purpose. I mean, Connor, you grew up in hell. You’re one of the best trained warriors this side has because you didn’t learn in a gym or a dojo, you learned on the field from the time you could talk and walk. Crawl, probably. And as much as I regret that and as much as I wish I could change that…it’s who you are.

I tried to change it, actually, and now I’m sorry for that. I just keep causing you pain. But Connor…you are not a nobody. You’re a prophesized miracle child. That means something. You mean something to the balance of things. That makes you a target. I tried to change that by giving you a new life, a life where you didn’t even know who you really were. I thought you’d be safe then…but things just keep happening. Twice you got your memories back. That makes me think you were meant to have them.”

Angel swallowed hard and pursed his lips. He hadn’t meant to say all that. He had planned a very short and comforting sentence, but instead had bared part of his soul. He cursed his traitorous tongue. Glancing at Connor, he saw his son frozen in his movements. Connor was staring at the carpet, a haunted look on his face.

“I try not to think about how I grew up.” His voice was a low whisper; there was a dangerous quality to it that reminded Angel of a time very long ago and a very different Connor. “I try not to think about my life before. I don’t want to think about it. I want to know it’s there, it means I’m not crazy, but I don’t want to dwell on it.”

“I’m not sure you’re going to have a choice Connor. I think you’re being forced to recognize your past, own it. I just…I’ve had this theory. You won’t like it and I don’t think I should tell you about it…but I’m going to. You weren’t meant to have the life I had built for you. You weren’t meant to be normal. Someone or something knows that. They took away your option of having that life. They destroyed it so utterly that you can’t go back to it. That’s my theory, anyway.”

Angel waited, holding his breath, for Connor to respond. If he were his son, Angel thought, he would not want to hear what had just been said.

“You’re right. I fucking hate that theory. That…sucks.” Connor stood violently. He looked ready to destroy something but didn’t know what. Angel recognized that his son was full of impotent rage and it would destroy him if he didn’t use it, express it.

Connor started to pace the room, his fists clenching and unclenching in rhythmic movements. His gentle swagger was gone, replaced by the dangerous stalking motions that he used to employ. Angel sat forward more, ready to restrain his son if he needed. The look in Connor’s eyes had changed from pain and guilt to murderous rage. Angel was now looking at the man who had leapt out of Quor'Toth. The passive art history major who listened to The Beatles and his girlfriends’ poetry had disappeared entirely.

“You’re saying that someone wanted to force me to fight. By taking away my life they thought I would have to join your life. That’s what you’re saying?”

“Yes. That’s what I’m saying.”

Angel didn’t see the punch coming. He was on the ground, fists flying into him at incredible speeds. His first instinct was to turn himself into a ball and cover his head. Instead, he lashed out and grabbed one of the super-speed wrists coming towards him. Pulling Connor down to the ground, he flipped his son onto his front and straddled him, making sure that he hit pressure points hard enough to let Connor know he was serious. Breathing hard, Angel put two fingers to a pressure point in Connor’s neck.

“I will hit this and you won’t be able to move. I am not the enemy Connor.”

“You should have killed me!” The young man was shaking with unspent rage and sobs. “You should have killed me in that mall! I shouldn’t even be alive! I shouldn’t have been born.”

Angel’s breath caught. His eyes watered. “I did kill you. That was the deal, Connor. I had to kill you so you could be remade into a new version of you. I did kill you.” His voice broke as he spoke. His son wished he had never had born, wished to be dead, and there was nothing Angel could do to ease that pain.

Connor’s body went limp as he started to sob. Gently releasing his grip on the younger man, Angel climbed off of him and dragged him across the few inches in between them. “I’m glad you’re alive, Connor. I don’t want you dead. I never did. Never. Through everything, Connor, I only wanted you to be happy. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I tried to create a lie for you to live and that you loved it so much. I never meant for any of this to turn out this way. God, Connor, I only wanted you to be happy.”

Angel realized tears had been silently sliding his cheeks. He hadn’t been sobbing, he wasn’t crying even, but the tears were there none the less. Connor was more vocal about his pain; he sounded like a wounded animal, sobbing and making keening noises into his father’s chest. Angel’s heart broke as he realized that in Connors’ real life he had never been able to do this. As a child, hurt and frightened, he had never had the comfort Angel was willing to give him in that moment. Angels’ heart broke a little more.

“They’re fading away, Angel. They’re fading away and I can’t keep them.”

“What’s fading, Connor?”

“My memories. I think…” The man let out another sob, “I think I can’t have both lives. I can’t keep the memories of my family, they keep slipping away little by little and all I’ll have left is…is…” Words failed him as he let himself collapse fully on the floor of his fathers’ office.

Holding his son for all he was worth, Angel cried out in his mind for help, for strength. He couldn’t tolerate to see his son so devastated. Connor was going to loose all the memories he had of happiness and be left with nothing but his horrible past. Angels’ deepest fear was that he would loose his son again to the darkness that had previously consumed him. This time, though, he wouldn’t survive four months at the bottom of the ocean.

They sat without speaking for a long time, the only sounds in the room that of Connor’s immeasurable pain and his father’s attempted comfort. After a time, Connor seemed to use all the tears he had at that moment. Even after the young man stopped crying, though, he let himself be comforted by his father. He could vaguely remember his created father doing so when he was a small child and had a nightmare. Those memories were becoming harder and harder to bring to the forefront of his mind, though. He remembered more easily being forced to track and kill beings five and six times his size when he was the age of first grader.

After a time without tears, Connor slowly pulled away and leaned against the couch. He felt as though he had been hit by a large bus. Never before had he known exhaustion the way he had in the past few months. Physical exhaustion seemed not to compare to the fatigue his mind and emotions were causing him. Glancing at his father, he saw the older man quickly wiping away the dampness from his cheeks. Connor felt a sharp stab of pain in his chest when he realized that his father cried for him.

Dragging himself off the floor, he collapsed onto the couch to watch Angel pick himself up off the floor. Connor didn’t feel the need to move for a very long time. Leaving his son in his office, hopefully to fall into an exhausted sleep, Angel went to Wesley’s office.

He walked slowly down the hallways, taking the back ways most people didn’t like to travel. He avoided the elevators, instead taking the stairs, as he tried to clear his mind at least a little bit before he talked to Wesley.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the office door. It was time to step up their efforts. He wasn’t going to watch his son die a little more every day if he could anything to help it.

. . .

Chapter 41

“I want this guy found; I don’t care how we do it. And then I’m going to question him, alone. Connor can’t know about it.”

“I was thinking about contacting Willow, asking if perhaps she could try and locate Genero.”

“I don’t care how you do it, Wes, but I want him by the end of the day. Understand? You have eight hours to make it happen.”

Turning on his heel, Angel left the office. He hadn’t meant to get so hot under the collar and he certainly hadn’t meant to speak to Wesley so harshly, but he figured his friend would give him a break considering the circumstances. Dragging his hands through his hair, Angel started up the stairwell that would lead to the floor that Will inhabited.

Angel didn’t bother to knock to enter that office. Will was leaving a message on Dawn’s phone, Angel presumed for about the hundredth time that day. Sitting in one of the overstuffed armchairs in front of Will’s desk, he listened to a rather pitiful message being left for Dawn. After Will hung up, Angel watched him for a few minutes before he spoke.

“I just gave Wesley an order to find Genero by any means necessary.”

Will’s eyes widened. “With Wesley, that could mean a lot of things.”

“I’m aware of that. That’s why I went to him.”

“I see.” Steeping his fingers, Will rested his elbows on his desk and narrowed his eyes in Angel’s direction. “What do you want me to do?”

“Get Xander and go through every nook and cranny of this guy. I mean, even the stuff you’ve done before, do it again. The two of you need to find his family, his friends. If we can’t find him, we’ll go after them. I don’t care if we have his ninety year old grandmother arrested for jay walking, I want to get this guys’ attention.”

“I can do that. Let me get this strait though, any means necessary? You haven’t been willing to go this far for a long time.”

“It’s a long time coming. I’m tired of playing by the rules with these people. I want to get their attention. No more keeping this secret, either, I want to scare them up. Let’s start making some noise about this.”

Nodding, a slightly devious smile came to his face. “I can start this immediately?”

“Absolutely. I want results within the next eight hours.”

Standing, Angel made his way out of the office without further comments. Taking a deep breath, he fished his phone from his pocket and secreted himself away in a small nook in the hallway. There were pressing questions he had been forcing himself to keep from asking for a long time that finally needed answering. She answered, as always, on the first ring.

“Didn’t I just see you?”

“Have you had any visions you’re not telling me about?”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “I have a lot of visions I don’t tell you about. I take care of it.”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about, Cordy. Have you had any visions about Connor?”

He waited for a few unbearable seconds, his mind screaming for her to deny his unspoken acquisition and put him at ease. He wished with every fiber of his being that she would deny what he already knew was true. If she lied, though, he knew he wouldn’t press her further. He would accept her lies as truth if only to help their already strained relationship survive; if only to believe that she was who he wanted her to be.

“Yes. I have. I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t the right time to tell you. I saw his family die. It wasn’t a vision I was meant to share, it was a punishment I had to endure. I was warned not to tell anyone. It had to happen that way.”

He didn’t breathe, he didn’t think. He just spoke. “Anything else you haven’t told me?”

“You’ll find out everything I know by tonight. I’m not a magic eight ball, Angel; I can only tell you what I am allowed to.”

“That shitty excuse has never stopped you before. You never compromised yourself for the fucking powers and you know it, Cordy. Congratulations on finally being their crony.” He hung up unceremoniously, hoping that the resounding click would linger in her head and haunt her. Slapping himself mentally, he told himself that was childish and probably not going to happen. She would probably feel bad for about five minutes and then roll her eyes.

Breathing deeply, he walked purposely back to his office. As he expected, Connor was asleep on the couch, tossing a little and mumbling incoherently. He was haunted in his dreams but too tired to wake up. Being as quiet as possible, Angel sat back down at his desk and started scribbling a few proposals on a yellow legal pad. He was afraid typing would wake his son, and when he was perfectly honest with himself, he admitted that he was old fashioned enough to prefer writing.

Two of the letters he wrote were sent to his secretary to be typed before they would be sent back to him for a final approval and his signature. One was addressed to Willow and Giles; he still had to be legal and official, even with his friends. The other was for the entire legal team finalizing the budget for the fiscal year. As he continued in his work, he found that he was eyeing his phone every few minutes, expecting someone to call him and report that they had found Genero.

With that thought, he quickly started comprising a list of methods to more properly and thoroughly screen job applicants. He had covered an entire page was moving onto the second when Connor stirred. Quickly finishing the sentence he had started, Angel slipped the pages into the fax machine and sent them to his secretary.

Connor sat up slowly, rubbing his hands over his burning eyes as he did so. “Sorry I fell asleep.”

“You should try sleeping at night. Could solve your sleeping during the day problem.”

Connor gave him a wry, sarcastic smile and Angel had to grin. Perhaps there was still something left of Connor beneath the grief.

“Yeah, I’ll try that dad.”

Connor seemed not to realize what he had said, but the words stopped the breath in Angels’ lungs. Connor had called him dad, his suddenly sluggish brain fully realized. Connor had used the word dad and associated it with Angel. His heart leapt in his chest as his breath returned. Grinning at his son, he stood from the desk and sat next to Connor on the couch.

“Do you want anything? Do you need anything?”

“I’m okay. Sorry about the breakdown earlier.” The embarrassment was evident on Connors’ face.

Shaking his head, Angel quickly responded. “Don’t apologize. None of us are made of steel all the time. We have to buckle once and a while and you have more than enough reason to do so.”

Connor nodded ascent but it was obvious to Angel that his son didn’t believe his words. He was too young, Angel reflected, to realize that he needed to be weak sometimes. Angel knew that he, himself, had learned that lesson the hard way. A delusional fever and months of self torture had been needed in order to teach Angel he wasn’t strong all the time and didn’t need to be.

“Would you like to go home? I can call you if anything happens.”

Connor gave his father a sad smile. “I’d rather stay here if it’s alright. I don’t want to miss anything.”

“You won’t. Go home Connor, I’ll call you if anything happens. And tell Buffy I’ll be late; I have some meetings with human resources tonight. Hiring procedures.” Angel’s conscious pricked him a little, but he ignored it. Lying now would be beneficial later. Connor couldn’t know the deadline Angel had given Wes and Will; the younger man would want to involved. The methods Angel was planning on employing were not appropriate for his sons’ eyes.

Patting Connor’s shoulders, Angel showed him out of the office. Releasing a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding Angel waited a few minutes before leaving for Will’s office. As he opened the door, though, he was confronted with Wesley. The other man’s hand was raised as if to knock, but he simply lowered it and raised an eyebrow before stepping into Angels’ office.

“I take it Connor’s gone.”

Nodding, Angel crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. “What have we got?”

Wesley handed Angel a piece of paper with an address written on it. Paper clipped to the paper was a picture from of a security camera of a man that looked to be the one they had been searching for. At Angel’s raised eyebrow, Wesley explained.

“We need to rearrange my budget; I bribed three of our employees to find out that Genero used to frequent a certain part of Pasadena. Xander has those three employees now; he’s questioning them about their involvement. I then had to bribe a lieutenant of the Pasadena Police Force to get me all the video footage of the area for the past week. Fred used a computer program to pick out his image from the dozens of digital files.”

“How did you get the three employees to talk to you?”

“I posed on the phone as someone looking for Genero and hinted towards being involved in a cult he was also affiliated with. Apparently, these people talked with Xander before; they had been after work drinking buddies with Genero. None of them would say anything remotely indicating themselves in the conspiracy, but it’s clear they were aware that Genero was part of something very questionable.”

“Good work Wes. How much should I tell finance to front you?”

“You’ll get the bill, believe me. I think the lieutenant will be able to put his daughter through college for four years debt free. The employees, obviously, were not sent any real amounts of money.” Wesley gave Angel a small, tight, smile. This had cost them a pretty penny. Whatever the amount, though, it was a small price to pay by Angels’ estimations.

Angel was glad that Wesley would do whatever necessary when asked to, even bribe an upstanding and moral officer of a police department. He felt guilty for not giving the go-ahead to this earlier. Indicating that Wesley should have a seat at the conference table, Angel called Will. The other man didn’t answer his office phone, but did answer his cell phone.

“What have you got?”

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll come and show you. Xander’s coming too.” Will hung up before Angel would respond.

Sitting at the head of the oval conference table, Angel rested his elbows on the shiny surface and steeped his fingers. They were going to pull out all the stops this time. They weren’t going to pussyfoot around this any longer, he told himself. It was time to find justice for his son. Looking up at the opening of the door he saw a serious looking Will walk in accompanied by a rather unhappy Xander. The two men sat down after without a word.

Will began without preamble. “They knew something. Not sure what, but those three knew Genero was involved in something very unsavory. One of them, I’m pretty sure, was in on it too. He indicated it didn’t go very high in the company, though that could have been a red herring. I’m inclined to agree with him, though, I think this was an outside job; these four employees were just cannon fodder.”

“Someone’s providing a new life for our guy, though. Who’s the financer?”

“I’ll get to that, don’t rush me. Anyway, you said to send a message. Well, I sent one. The one I think was involved, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure of that, is now without a tongue. I think that will tell his bosses all they need to know. The other two are in perfect physical condition, but they may need therapy for the rest of their lives; they watched me do it. And I didn’t do it quickly.” Will’s eyes darkened dangerously.

“Good. I want them to suffer. Send a bigger message than that, Will; that’s a whisper.”

“Don’t worry, Peaches. I put a calling card out there. Besides his tongue, I took his ear. I sent the ear to Genero, who will likely take it to the higher ups. And it’s bugged. As is the box. Wherever that ear goes, we go.”

Nodding approval, Angel looked to Xander; he wondered what part the man played in this. Xander leaned back, exuded an angry confidence. “They wouldn’t talk to me and I’m a pretty good interrogator. Not as good as Will; I got to watch his techniques. I’m pretty pissed because I thought I did a good job. Apparently not, though. I want in on this. We need to send a very loud message that you cannot work for the other side and be employed by this company.”

Wesley, who had been silent up until then, slid the paper and picture he brought across the table. “Where did you send the ear? This picture was taken at a Pasadena ATM.”

“Genero has a P.O. box he uses sometimes. It’s registered to a cousin of his. The newly tongue-less one told me that before I preformed surgery.”

Angel stood slowly and with purpose. He was ready to bring these people in. “Let’s follow that ear. Xander and Wes, go to the P.O. box. Will and I will go to the presumed location of this guy’s new apartment. When will the package arrive?”

“I had a courier deliver it. It should be there within the next half hour. The P.O. box is in Pasadena.”

“Let’s go then.” Angel led the group out the door and down into the parking deck. Choosing two cars that were not connected to Wolfram and Hart in any way, the quartet of men started on their way to Pasadena.

Angel got into the passenger seat of the car as Will took his place behind the wheel. Pulling out his cell phone, Angel dialed home and hoped against hope that Connor wouldn’t answer the phone. His son had refused to answer the phone since moving in and Angel hoped that trend would continue until the end of the night. Buffy finally answered just before the answering machine picked up.

“Hello?”

“Buffy, listen, I’ll be late tonight. Very late.”

There was a pregnant pause as Buffy considered the implications of that statement. “Human Resources, huh?”

“Not quite. I’ll tell when I see you in the morning, okay? Don’t worry tonight.”

He listened to her take a deep breath and then slowly release it. “I hope this is something big, Angel. Like save the world big, because I am going on nine months pregnant and I’m moody. I want my man to rub my feet and my back and talk to my belly.” She sounded none to happy with him.

“It’s important, Buffy. I can’t tell you now, but I promise I will tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you too.” She hung up before he could say anything else.

She had sounded very displeased in the last few words. Angel was hoping he would be able to explain everything in the morning, if he had a chance to go home. Knowing there was a high probably that this would take the majority of the night; Angel wasn’t really counting on returning home at all. His conscious screamed at him; he felt as though he was telling lie after lie tonight.

Hoping the outcomes of the night would be enough to make up for the white lies he had been spewing to his loved ones; he crossed his fingers and watched Will press the button that changed the radio stations. He would continue to press the buttons, Angel knew, until the man found something he liked. That could take an hour. Exhaling slowly, Angel crossed his arms across his chest, glad for the warmth of the vehicle, and stared out the window. They were nearing their destination when Will finally found a station he liked and stopped pressing buttons on the console.

Angel smiled in spite of himself. Even on their worst missions, he could still find humor in his surroundings. He thanked the heavens for small gifts and hoped the night would yield yet larger ones.

. . .

Chapter 42

Will drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. His day had not gone well and although part of him thought that taking his frustrations out on former employees was wrong, another part of him rationalized it with the excuse that Angel had said any means necessary. Faith had been uneasy speaking with him at first, but she quickly realized he wasn’t angry and didn’t want to pick a fight. She seemed very averse to fighting with him.

Dawn was not so easy to talk to. She hadn’t answered her phone any of the thirty-seven times he had called her. Eventually, sometime around the twentieth call, she had shut her phone off. He had been leaving messages for her all day. When he called the thirty-second time, he received a message that her voicemail box was full. That had been perhaps the most crushing blow. She hadn’t even checked her voicemail to listen to what he had to say. She was ignoring him completely.

His compatriot beside him looked as though he was in no mood to talk. Deciding to stay silent, Will continued to berate himself in his head. Dawn was perfect in every way for him, he had decided. She was tenacious and headstrong, incredibly confident and competent in every area of life that mattered, and she liked his music and poetry. He had never shared with a woman that he played the guitar or wrote his own songs. He had considered that so personal that he couldn’t share it with very many people. Angel had heard his music before and Wes, Gunn and Fred had an idea that he played, but he had never actually preformed for anyone but Angel.

He had been serenading Dawn for weeks. Unsure if she realized the depth of meaning his actions held, he wondered if she knew how much he cared for her. Will had known for a few weeks that he had been falling in love with Dawn. The woman she had become was intensely different from the girl she had been, but somehow very much the same person he had known in Sunnydale. All of her best qualities had been tempered and expanded throughout the years they had been apart.

The woman he loved was beautiful, intelligent, well spoken and articulate, sexy, a tigress in bed, and spoke her mind without care about who she offended. He loved everything about her. He also loved her vulnerability, her quiet sense of innocence that she tried to downplay, her nerdy sense of humor. She was still very much an optimist, no matter how hard the years had been or how much she had seen. If he was forced to choose a characteristic that he loved most about Dawn, it would be her undying faith in humanity as a whole. Despite all she had lived through and been intimately involved with, she still thought that people had the potential to make good decisions. It was a quality he sometimes wished he could own as well.

Sighing, he looked again at Angel. The other man still looked in no mood to talk. Looking out the window at the modest two story home in front of him, Will was struck suddenly with a vision of Sunnydale and the Summers’ home. He remembered stalking around the bushes for a glimpse of the slayer, watching her mother take in groceries, her sister rushing to the family minivan to help. The absurdity of it all struck him full on in that moment.

The woman he had vowed to kill and subsequently fell in love with was now going to the mother of his best friend, and previous enemies’, baby. The annoying, whiny and bratty little sister of the slayer was the woman he fantasized about spending the rest of his life with. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he remembered awkwardly babysitting in his crypt and had to laugh aloud. Opening his eyes, he caught Angel’s look of incredulity and quickly straightened his grin.

“Thinking about the past,” he said as way of explanation.

“I don’t think the past was very funny.”

“It is in hindsight.”

“I guess for some people.”

Will grinned sadly and tried to get himself under control. He felt as though he was riding a tidal wave and was about to be swallowed. Never before had he had difficulty concentrating while working. Now, though, his chest ached and his eyes burned with unspent tears.

“Just the absurdity of it all. They way things turned out and the way they were. I mean, look at how much all of us have changed. Remember the old Wes? What a transformation. All of us made one, you know. I just…I guess it’s kind of funny now that I think about it. I never would have thought…” He trailed off sadly as his mind started turning to more painful avenues.

“Yeah. I never would have thought we’d be here either. This isn’t what I planned at all.”

The two men stayed silent, each lost in a world of personal demons. Both jumped when Angel’s cell phone rang. Taking a deep breath, he flipped it open angrily, mad at being caught so off guard.

“What?”

“He’s headed your way. Just picked up his mail. I don’t think he opened it.”

“Thanks, Xander.” The fact that this man was picking up mail this late in the evening told Angel that there had to be someone working in the mail room that alerted Genero when packages arrived. It was probably the favored method of communication between him and the people he worked for.

Angel relayed the message to Will and both men sat pensively, waiting; both were excited to expend their energies on this man. Angel had to restrain himself when he saw his prey pull up to the curb. Leaning forward, with his hand on the door latch, he motionlessly stalked his prey, his pupils narrowing to focus solely on his target. He willed every instinct he had to come to the forefront of his being. It was time to hunt.

They watched as lights were turned on. It looked as though he was in the kitchen. It was only a few seconds before their super-tuned ears heard a short scream fill the house. Few others would hear such a sound, but Angel and Will were not average people. Smiling devilishly, the two men glanced at each other before exiting the car in complete silence.

They seemed to walk a centimeter above the earth as they silently went to the back of the house. The latch on the gate that led to the modest back yard nearly disintegrated in Angel’s hands. The gate squeaked almost imperceptibly as it was opened and then carefully closed. Angel had popped the doorknob of the back door nearly out of its place and was in the house before the occupant could register what was happening.

With inhuman speed, Angel went for the man. Will was behind Genero before he had even turned around fully. Before Angel could lift him by the neck more than a few inches, Wes and Xander were behind him, arms crossed, watching the proceedings. Angel had originally planned to wait and see where Will’s tagged ear would go, but making the man dangling from his fist talk seemed to be a much more interesting option.

Slamming the man into a nearby wall, Angel watched plaster pieces fly as the breath was sucked for his prey’s body. “You will tell me who you work for.”

The former Wolfram and Hart employee was nearly lifeless, hanging in Angels’ grasp, but managed to shake his head in the negative.

“Wrong answer.” Angel dropped him, helping his ascent to earth by pulling and pushing all at the same time, the combined effects of which made the hapless man hit the floor hard enough to crack a few ribs. “Want to try again?”

Secretly, Angel was hoping the man wouldn’t talk. He was disappointed. “I don’t know names. I don’t know.”

“What do you know?”

“Valde Ortus.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed; he wanted more information and knew that his victim was slowly starting to loose consciousness. “More.”

Coughing hard, the man winced as tears of pain rolled down his cheeks. “San Bernardino. I don’t know anything else.”

“Where in San Bernardino? Give me a location or we’ll take some of your body parts that you might need someday.” Angel grabbed the man’s earlobe and ripped upwards for emphasis.

After he was done screaming, the man took a deep breath. “There’s an office building. An insurance office. They operate out of the basement.”

Realizing that he had no more information to give, Angel let go of his prey. Grinding his heel into the man’s hand, he made sure that he would never use his right hand fully again. No one made eye contact with Angel as he stormed from the house. The neighbors had probably called the police already, and Angel wanted to make a speedy exit. It would do no one any good to have his face plastered on the morning news in conjunction with charges of battery and assault.

Angel drove one car as Wesley drove the other. Will was on his cell phone with Xander as each pair drove in opposite directions of the other. Will assured Xander and Wesley that they should go home. It was only after Will threatened to call Fred that Wesley agreed to go home and drop Xander off on his way. Hanging up the phone, Will looked warily at Angel.

“We’re going there tonight, aren’t we?”

“Yep.” Angel was white-knuckling the steering wheel as he drove. They were going to be there in less than an hour the way he was driving. His goal was to get there in less than forty-five minutes.

Having every confidence that the alarm would already be sounded by the time they got there, Angel was hoping there was a fight waiting for him. There was no way that their headquarters would be cleared out by the time Angel and Will arrived. There might be twenty-four hour surveillance or manning of the facility, but Angel was sure that at this time of night it would take time to rally their troops. He was counting on having caught them with their pants down.

Angel spoke little as he drove. He was more interested in going as fast as possible on interstate 210. Praying fervently that there would be no cops to stop them, Angel pushed the car past one hundred miles per hour. They might make it in half an hour, he thought to himself. Traffic tonight was scant, and most cars were easily passed. Angel had driven a Model T and most things that had come after it. No one could catch or pass him if he didn’t want them to.

Will looked unconcerned at the driving habits of his compatriot. Will wasn’t very much concerned with anything at that moment. His instincts were keyed; adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He could feel that a fight was coming and his body was already preparing for it. Any earlier thoughts that had clouded his actions or judgments were gone. Clenching and releasing his fists periodically, he started to tighten and release every major muscle group in his body. Ready for a great battle, he tapped his foot impatiently and wished that Angel could drive faster. They were going almost twice the speed limit, but it wasn’t fast enough to get to the fight.

Angel had known immediately what insurance company Genero had meant. He had read the file a thousand times, and he knew that Xander had found the insurance company Genero’s life insurance policy was from was in San Bernardino. Angel didn’t believe that much in coincidences. His mind had photographed every page he had read from every file even slightly connected to his son; he knew the addresses of every contact Genero had made in the past year by heart.

Easing the car off the interstate, Angel slowed to more manageable speeds for the side roads. Angel turned the headlights off as he slowed the car into a parking lot of a small but obviously very successful insurance company. The building looked expensive and was expensively decorated from what Angel could see. He would delight in destroying it.

Turning the motor off, Angel kept the car in gear and coasted to a spot not far from the front door. Sliding the gearshift to park, he was aware there were probably security cameras aimed at the parking lot. He was hoping that they would see them coming and try to prepare some kind of initiative. It would be a little bit of a greater challenge.

They made their way around to the back of the building. The back door had a security sticker on it, which was no deterrent to either man whatsoever. Leaping high, Angel caught the gutter of the building and used inhuman technique to flip himself over and land on his feet. Running up the roof, he listened to Will follow closely behind him. There was a ventilation shaft on the roof. Angel doubted there would be sensors that would alert a security company of their presence.

Ripping the grate away from the shaft, Angel eased himself down the thin shaft head first. Thankful for his agility, and weight loss from his previous depression, he crept down the narrow shaft. Slamming his fist downwards into the first grate he saw, he dropped into a small but tasteful office. Without bothering to check if Will was behind him, Angel strode purposefully to where he would place a secret doorway in such a building.

It took one straight kick and a shooting pain up his leg to his back for Angel to find the door was made of steel. The walls surrounding the doors, however, were not. It only took one kick, in unison, from each man to create a crater large enough to step through.

Closing his fist, Angel heard his knuckles crack. It was time to get down to business.

. . .

Chapter 43

Valde Ortus. Latin for The Great Rising. Angel was hoping that this great rising was nothing more than a few dozen men in robes calculating how to destroy the world. He could not have been more wrong.

Their wishes to meet a fight were granted as a dozen armed and well trained individuals rushed them. Getting half way down the stairwell, Angel grabbed Will’s wrists and threw the other man to the other side of the fight. Launching off the stairs and into the middle of the fray, Angel fought with every fiber of his being. Even the training these men had obviously received was no match for super strength and durability.

After watching the last man fall, Angel turned his attention to the door at the far side of the room. It was unlocked; there were no special deterrents or booby traps. Stepping through, Angel’s shoulders slumped at the sight before him. He had miscalculated. Seven men sat slumped onto a round conference table. All of them were dead; foam was coming from their mouths. Sniffing the air, Angel caught traces of the cyanide still lingering in the dead mans’ mouths.

Slamming his fists into the wall in frustration, he looked around the room. There was nothing great about it. There were no symbols on the walls, no archaic drawings on the floor. This group wanted to be anonymous. There was nothing that could affiliate them with any hell god or goddess. Frustrated, Angel searched each body, looking for identification. Will searched the dead lackeys.

None of them had identification. With mounting frustration, the two men returned to Los Angeles, their pride hurt and initiative dampened. Angel dropped Will off at the office in silence. Sitting in his car, he looked at the clock. It was nearing two in the morning. Sighing heavily, Angel put his head in his hands for a long time. Not wanting to go home yet, he turned the car towards a familiar part of town.

Cordelia answered the door after his second set of knocks. She looked bedraggled; her eyes were red and puffy. Wearing nothing but a bathrobe over a sports bra and boxer shorts, she frowned deeply at him across the threshold of her apartment.

“You don’t need permission to enter anymore, you know.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” He stepped into and through the living room, going straight to the kitchen.

Making coffee haphazardly, he was finally pushed out of the way by Cordelia and ordered into the bathroom to clean himself up. He hadn’t realized he had blood on him until that moment. Sighing heavily, he went to the bathroom and peeled his damp shirt from his body. Blood had soaked through to his undershirt, leaving large bright red blotches. As he peeled that off as well, he winced. Looking at his shoulder in the mirror, he made a disgusted face. Someone had cut him rather deeply and he hadn’t noticed.

Answering the knock at the bathroom door, he saw Cordy holding a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt. “I’ll put your stuff in the wash.” She pointed to blood splatters on his pants and shoes and made a motion with her hands that meant he should hand them over immediately. Frowning, he closed the door and stripped, putting on the offered underwear. He allowed her to dress his shoulder wound before putting on the t-shirt.

He sat down heavily on the couch and accepted the coffee that was thrust into his hands. Cordy sighed and curled up on the loveseat opposite Angel. She was frowning until she realized they were wearing matching boxers. Her giggles grew to full out laughter and soon she was joined by Angel, who had realized what had excited her so.

Drying her eyes, Cordy looked up her Angel. “Want to talk?”

“They were already dead.”

“I know. I saw that.” Sipping her own coffee, she pushed her dark bangs from her face. “And did I mention that I work day shift? This won’t fly anymore sweet cheeks.”

Angel smiled sadly at her use of Lorne’s pet name for him. For a short moment, Angel missed his family the way it used to be. Pushing away the pain that came with that reminiscing, he concentrated on the woman in front of him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because, Angel, I knew you would come here. I didn’t need a vision to see that. I knew you would go off half cocked and wind up sore and disappointed. And afterwards you would come to me for patching and comfort. Old habits die hard.”

“What do you know, Cordy?”

“What am I, a palm reader? I told you, I can only tell you what I am allowed to tell you. Connor has a special purpose. He has to fulfill his destiny. And he would have a lot sooner if you hadn’t messed with the fabric of reality and rewritten history. You won’t like the answers I have for you Angel.”

Staring at her intently, he tried to deny what she was trying to tell him. Knowing that he should stop asking questions, he continued to do so anyway. “Who are the leaders of that group?”

She sighed heavily and ran her hand over her hair. Her face softened a little as she looked at her best friend. She loved him too much to hurt him, but he seemed determined to push her to do so. “They don’t have a leader. They don’t even exist. Angel, there is no great conspiracy. Connor has a destiny. He is being forced to accept it. He couldn’t do it if he was happy and living in a la-la land you created for him. He has to own his past, be proud of it and use it. Why do you think he was born?

This side was down a few players. We were going to loose. Angel, they couldn’t wait to groom a new warrior. So, they took the opportunity when you did the nasty with Darla and they created a super warrior. And they sent him to a hell dimension where time moved very differently. In a year, Angel, they had almost a fully grown warrior ready and willing to kill any demon he saw.

Do you understand now? The Powers used every opportunity they could to force Connor to be a warrior. They sparked the seed that created him; they used Wesley’s paranoia to their advantage. There is always a Plan B and they used theirs expertly. They had to undo what you had done. You neutered their next great champion, Angel.”

He sat speechless, staring into the big brown eyes of the woman who owned part of his heart. The woman who had gone to a higher dimension and came back changed, evil even. The woman who had died after giving him the greatest gift she could give. This was not the woman he had entertained ideas of loving. She was different, more accepting of the grey areas than she had ever been before. He was stunned into speechlessness, not by the facts he was hearing, but by the callous tone in which they had been spoken.

Swallowing hard, he set his coffee on the table. Putting his forearms on his knees and his head in his hands, he tried to reconcile the woman in front of him with the woman he had known. He was finding it impossible.

She was on her knees before him, her hands on his shoulders, before he could register that she had moved. “I’m sorry Angel. I’m just…I’m just tired. I can’t tell you even a tenth of what I want to tell you. You just have to trust that it will work out. I swear to you it will. Connor will be okay and so will you. You’ll move on. Angel, he was never meant to be like everyone else. He’s special. Please, Angel, don’t deny what you already know is true.”

His head snapped up and his eyes burned into her. “I know that my son is devastated. I know that I have held him while he sobbed twice in as many days. I know that he has lost everyone he cares for. Is that the truth, Cordy? He should live like me? Miserable?”

She straightened. “You are not miserable. You are more blessed than you know. And Angel, they weren’t real. Not to him. All the times you were denied when he was a child, you’ll get to have now. Don’t you see? You two are actually going to be able to have a relationship that doesn’t involve trying to kill each other!”

“At what cost?” His voice was rising. “Four innocent people died! They were real people! I didn’t create them, they had lives and friends and dreams. They were real!”

Standing, he pulled away from her to pace the length of the room. “So, what, we can bond over the fact that we’re both chosen warriors to fight against evil? Great. What about a life, Cordy? Will he have to be as alone as I was for as long as I was? I don’t want him to have to go through what I went through. I want better for him.”

She stood slowly, wrapping her robe tightly around herself. “I was there too you know. Do you think it’s easy for me? To remember the infant I bathed and changed and look at the man he is today? I loved him like he was my own. You know that. This isn’t fun for me, Angel. I don’t want to see him in anguish; I don’t want to see you that way either! I love you both! If I tell you everything I want to tell you, Angel, I’ll be killed. They shouldn’t have even sent me back here! They should have sent me to another dimension where I couldn’t get to you.”

Taking a deep breath, he crossed his arms and stopped pacing. “Don’t tell me anything Cordy. And especially don’t tell me that you’re okay with all this. Finally a little truth. It’s nice to know you’re still human under that hair. If you remember him, if you love him, why aren’t you there for him? You know how much he loved you.”

“Yeah, enough to sleep with me.” Slapping her hand over her mouth her eyes widened as she watched the color drain from Angels’ face. “I’m sorry, Angel. I’m sorry. I…I can’t talk to him. He remembers the evil woman who ordered him to kill someone. He remembers the woman that spawned a hell god with him. I can’t talk to him.”

Angel wanted to go to sleep for a few months. This night was turning into more than he could handle. “Cordy…please never bring that up again, alright? He loves you. You are the closest thing he has to a mom. And yes, you two…whatever. But, he didn’t understand love or…that. He got them confused. He thought he was showing you love, okay? Forget about all that and just go see him.”

“How can I talk to any of them? They don’t know me anymore. They don’t remember me the way they should…or the way I’d like them to. I just…I want a new life. I want to be away from all that.”

He scoffed at her. “You talk about Connor owning his destiny? You’re a seer, Cordy. You will always be a seer. There was a time when you would have died for that.”

She stopped dead in her tracks. It was a moment before she could move or speak. Finally, her voice came in a whisper. “You can take the couch. Your clothes should be dry in the morning.”

He wanted to go to her. He wanted to apologize and forget they fought. He wanted to watch old cheesy movies and listen to her giggle. He wanted a simpler time in his life again. His life now was anything but simple.

Lying on the couch, he pulled a coverlet over himself and stared at the ceiling. If he could fall asleep, he would only be able to sleep for a few hours. He opted instead for staring at the ceiling in the dark living room, alone in the quiet with his thoughts and regrets.

. . .

Chapter 44

Sneaking into his own house was not his idea of fun. Trying to tip-toe through the foyer, he was stopped short by the sound of steady breathing. Turning around slowly he fought a wince as he made eye contact with Buffy. She was not happy and he was more than willing to grovel. It had taken him a heart wrenching conversation with his former best friend, but he finally understood his place in life.

During the hours he had stared at Cordelia’s ceiling, he had come to realize that his constant yearning for the past was not only nonproductive and harmful; it was putting his relationship with Buffy in danger. The woman he loved with very part of his soul was standing in front of him and he wanted to focus on her for the rest of his life. He was ready to end his dalliances with the past.

Before he could speak, Buffy cocked her head at him as her face changed; suddenly looking shocked. Before he could comprehend why, there was a lamp headed strait for his head. Reaching his arm up, he expertly caught the appliance. Opening his mouth to speak, he was caught with a left hook to his chin. She had rushed him before his arm had returned to his side.

Assuming a defensive position, Angel dodged to the right. Before she could connect again, he leapt over the couch and positioned himself with his back to the sliding patio door. She had gone insane, he told himself. His mind was drawing blanks as he tried to think of an explanation for her seemingly unexplainable behavior.

“Who is she?” Her voice came out hard and angry.

Angel looked at her as if she had suddenly grown another head. Recognizing his look of consternation, she expounded, “The woman who washed your clothes. I know you don’t buy lavender scented detergent!” Her eyes were narrowed and shooting proverbial daggers in his direction. If she could have killed him with a look, Angel was sure she would have done it then.

“Buffy…it isn’t what you think.”

“I’m sure its not! You didn’t come home last night and you shouldn’t have come home today! Get out! Get out now!” She pointed towards the door, her eyes searching for something else to throw at him.

His brain went into overdrive. “I didn’t sleep with anyone! Buffy, she’s a friend. I just went there to talk, that’s all! Buffy, I wouldn’t…” He didn’t get a chance to finish before she had lopped an end table at him. He ducked, turning just in time to see the small wooden table crash through the glass doors behind him.

Taking a deep breath, he realized that his best option was to retreat and come back later. Swallowing hard and fearing for his unborn child, he silently walked the perimeter of the door. Turning one last time to look at her, he watched silent tears roll down Buffy’s cheeks. Wanting desperately to go to her and comfort her, he instead held himself still for a moment before leaving through the front door.

His breath came erratically, in great gasping heaves, as he sat behind the wheel of the car. Putting his head on the wheel, he tried to take deep breaths. The woman he wanted to marry thought he had cheated on her. His brain was having trouble comprehending that. He had stayed celibate for years with only will power and the memory of his one night with Buffy. Even occasional dalliances years ago hadn’t dampened his inherent and desperate need for her.

Shaking hands turned the key in the ignition and a trembling man turned around and headed for the city once again. He hadn’t slept at all the previous night and had left at dawn without saying goodbye to his hostess. After almost missing two red lights and swiping a parked car, Angel pulled the car over a block away from Will’s apartment. His friend opened the door after a few hesitant knocks.

Will took one look at Angel and had him sitting on the couch, coffee in hand in what seemed to Angel like mere seconds. Knowing he would have to go to the office in a little over an hour, Angel sighed heavily and allowed his shoulders to slump.

Will sat across from his friend, staring intently at him. “What happened to you?”

“I went to see Cordy last night. Mainly to pick a fight. She put my clothes in the washer; I was covered in blood. I stayed on the couch and left around daybreak. Buffy thinks I’m cheating on her.” Angel continued to sip his coffee after finishing his short recap of the nights’ events.

“Well that sucks.” Will sat back, trying to comprehend what he had just heard. It was laughable. Angel might have had an emotional affair with Cordelia, but the man would surely have ended it by now, Will thought.

“I just wanted to talk. I just…needed someone that remembered. And Cordy knew things. She had visions about Connor and didn’t tell me; I needed to hear about that. I just needed to talk to her. I didn’t mean to stay the night, really. Well, I kind of knew that would happen. But…I didn’t think it would this big of a deal.”

Will blew out a slow breath. “Angel, Buffy’s pregnant and scared. Try to be a little sensitive.”

Angel’s shoulders slumped a little more. Nodding slowly, he finished his coffee and slipped his shoes off. Swinging his legs up onto the couch, he covered his eyes with his arm. “Wake me in an hour. Maybe I’ll dream how to fix this.” Recognizing that he wouldn’t be able to keep from going insane if he was awake, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. His tired mind couldn’t deal with anymore trauma.

Standing, Will went back into his bedroom. Closing the door, he started dressing for work. He hadn’t slept all night; he had been too worried about Dawn to sleep. Looking at his cell phone sitting innocently on his nightstand, he wished so hard for Dawn to call that his chest hurt. She hadn’t answered her phone, nor had she returned his calls. He was hoping that she would show up to work so he could apologize in person.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he looked longingly out the window. He remembered Dawn here, naked and laughing in the early morning light. He had to smile at that memory; he loved her laugh. It was loud and sometimes she snorted, but it was hers and therefore beautiful.

Fishing a note pad from his nightstand, he shook both his hands for a second before trying to write. The first few lines were scratched in an unsteady scrawl, and many pages ended up strewn on the floor. Finally, after a half dozen attempts, he was able to commit his thoughts and feelings to paper. Hoping that she would read it before throwing it out, he folded the note and slipped it into his pocket.

He meandered quietly around the apartment, checked his email and responded to a few from the legal team. When his cell phone rang, he nearly tripped over his own feet to get to it. Not bothering to read the display, he opened it and exclaimed rather fervently that he was there and his name was Will.

“…Umm, okay, man. Hi to you too.”

He sat down hard on the bed. “Hey Gunn. What can I do for you?”

“You need to come in. Now. And where’s Angel? Connor’s here and he is none too happy. Get your butts in here.”

Cursing loudly, Will hung up the phone and shook Angel awake. “We have to go now.”

Groaning, Angel moved his aching shoulder. They drove silently to the office, both men thinking of the women they loved. Riding the elevator, Will shuffled his feet and moved his hands in and out of his pockets. Angel stood stalk still, his chest barely rising and falling with his breath.

When the conference room door opened, both men winced internally. Connor was standing across the room, his arms crossed and a very unhappy look on his face. Fred was sitting next to a bassinet with Allison in it; Gunn, Wesley and Xander were sitting at the table with rather guilty looks on their faces.

Waiting for the two newly arrived men to take seats at the table, Wesley cleared his throat before speaking. “Connor heard the argument you had with Buffy, Angel. We…cleared up his misconceptions. Although I do not know what woman anyone is referring to, I do know where we all were last night. We told Connor what happened.”

“Why wasn’t I included?” Connors’ words were laced with venom.

Angel took a slow breath before responding. “It didn’t yield anything, Connor. It was pointless.”

Angel’s son took a menacing step forward. “That doesn’t the matter! You said I could be included, Angel!”

“I did. And I’m sorry. I wanted to find a lead and get some information. The way it happened, though, we ended up diving in head first. Mistakenly. Trust me, Connor, if we would have brought anyone back here for questioning I would have called you.”

“Trust you? How can I? You keep doing this stuff, Angel! You keep excluding me!”

“I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to get you answers faster. That’s all.”

“Did you? Do I have any answers?” He stood, his arms crossed, looking expectant.

Angel hesitated for only a moment. “No. I don’t have any answers for you.”

Connor exploded. Slamming his fist into the table, he said, “Liar! Where were you last night? Buffy thinks you were with another woman and you admitted you went to talk to someone! You know something!”

Keeping his features calm, Angel responded, “I don’t have any answers for you Connor. I don’t think I ever will.”

A devastating silence fell over the room. It was broken only by Allie’s cries after a few seconds of Fred discontinuing her rocking motion of the bassinet. Lifting the infant into her arms, Fred stood and started pacing the room, rocking her baby back and forth all the while.

The intercom buzzed, making a few of the rooms’ occupants jump in their seats. Angel’s secretary came through the speaker, “Mr. O’Connor, there’s someone here to see you.”

Angel gritted his teeth as he pressed the button on the intercom to speak, “Not now, Arlene, I’m a little busy.”

A voice Angel recognized immediately came over the line. “You might want me in there.”

Angel took one stilted breath. “Come in Cordy.”

. . .

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