DISCLAIMER: Only Shay is mine.
RATING: TV 14
COUPLES: B/A; C/D
SPOILERS: Through Pangs/IWRY, but set in the future.
DEDICATION: For Janice, cause it was her challenge (see requirements at end of fic), and also cause she is a kick-ass beta reader. =)

"Shay ... Shay, it's nine o'clock already."

Shay moaned, snuggling deeper under the covers until all that was visible was a mess of blondish-brown hair.

Her father gave her another minute to pull herself out of bed before pulling the covers off the bed.

Shay was up in an instant, shivering. "Daddy!" she protested, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. "It's freezing!"

"But you're up." Her father smiled at her gently, reaching forward to ruffle her hair affectionately. "C'mon, there's toast and jelly on the table. Cordelia's going to take you to school today."

Shay threw a sweatshirt over her long T-shirt and stepped into a pair of fuzzy blue slippers. "In the convertible?"

"Of course in the convertible!" a voice interrupted brightly, and Cordelia pranced into the room, giving Shay a kiss on the top of her head. She gave her a wide grin, pulling a key out of her pocket. "I snagged your dad's key." She turned around. "You don't mind, right, Angel?"

Angel sucked in an unnecessary breath. "I guess not ..."

"See?" Cordelia smiled and grabbed a few items off of Shay's desk. Dumping them into her arms, she shoved her towards the bathroom. "Here. Go shower, you look like a bird built it's nest on your head."

"But -" Shay tried to protest, the shampoo bottle slipping from her grip and falling to the ground.

"No buts!" Cordelia chirped. She flipped on the bathroom light. "Go shower."

"Cordelia, her breakfast," Angel cut in.

Cordelia tittered. "It's not going anywhere, Angel. Well, unless Doyle eats it," she added with a frown, then shrugged.

"Unless I eat what?" Doyle asked, coming through the door.

"Doyle, look out!" Cordelia demanded, though her warning came too late as Doyle stepped on the bottle of shampoo, causing it to splurt everywhere.

"Oops."

Shay flashed Doyle a big smile, setting the rest of her toiletries onto the sink counter and flipping off the light. "I guess I can't shower now!" she said sweetly, practically skipping down the stairs, into the kitchen. She slid into a chair and grabbed several slices of toast and a jar of jelly.

"At least brush your hair!" Cordelia pleaded, following her into the kitchen and sitting across from her.

Shay gave Cordelia a look that clearly said 'duh'. "I'm ten years old! Of course I'm going to brush my hair!"

"Well last year -" Cordelia was cut off when Shay took a piece of toast and shoved it in her mouth.

"Be careful when you go upstairs, Shay," Angel murmured, coming up behind her. "Doyle's trying to clean up the shampoo but it's not working very well."

"Nothing Doyle tries to clean *actually* gets clean," Cordelia reminded him good-naturedly, munching on the toast.

Shay giggled at that remark and began spooning out jelly onto her toast. "Is this raspberry?"

"Well I don't know," Cordelia muttered. "You were the one who tore off the label!"

"Then it's raspberry," Shay declared with a nod, putting the lid back onto the jelly. Taking a big bite, she grinned. "Mmmm."

"Shay, that's disgusting!" Cordelia laughed. "You must have put half the jar onto your toast!"

Shay mumbled something in response, but it was entirely inaudible due to her mouth being full.

"You girls want apple or grapefruit juice?" Angel asked, pulling open the refrigerator.

"Apple!" Shay cried at the same time Cordelia responded, "Grapefruit," and Shay giggled. "And we're *ladies*, Daddy, not girls!"

"Oh, of course," Angel agreed, grabbing both cartons of juice. "For the *ladies*."

Shay grinned. "Hey, Daddy!"

Angel turned to look at her, pouring the juice into glasses.

"Catch!" With that remark, she tossed the jar of jelly to her father, who didn't have time to react before it smashed into the wall behind him.

"Shay," he growled, "You know better than that."

"Sorry, Daddy," she apologized meekly.

Angel sighed. "It's all right. Just come get your juice and then ask Doyle to bring me a towel."

Shay stood up and hurried to the counter, taking the glass of juice tightly in her hand. "I won't throw it," she vowed.

Angel chuckled. "I would hope not!"

Cordelia stood up and brushed off her skirt. "I'll grab you a towel, Angel." She looked at Shay. "You, young missy, need to get dressed. I took the liberty of ironing some of your clothes, they're in my room. You're already late, so you better hurry." She took the half-finished glass of juice from Shay, sloshing it onto the floor.

Shay nodded solemnly, padding up the stairs and into Cordelia's room.

Cordelia opened up a cabinet and pulled out a new sponge. "Here," she handed it to Angel, "This'll clean better than a towel, anyway."

As Angel began picking up shreds of broken glass, Cordelia reached for her glass of grapefruit juice. "She causes more and more trouble every year!" she declared with a smile.

Angel gave her a small smile as he threw away the glass. "She does, doesn't she? She doesn't mean to."

"Oh, I know she doesn't. She's ten years old, what do you expect?" Cordelia made a face. "This is sour!"

"It's grapefruit, Cordelia," Angel reminded her patiently as he attempted to remove jelly stains from the kitchen wallpaper.

"I -" Cordelia didn't have a chance to finish her sentence because she was interrupted by the sound of shrieking. She frowned and glanced at Angel, who was also frowning.

"Shay?" he called questioningly.

"Look what I found in me room!" An Irish-voice announced, coming down the stairs with a chortling Shay thrown over his shoulder.

Cordelia laughed. "Put her down, Doyle, I have to take her to school!"

"Is that right?" Doyle asked Shay, spinning her around.

"Noooo," she protested, still laughing uncontrollably.

"I think it is, lass," Doyle decided, setting her down on the floor and kneeling in front of her. "Give me a kiss for good luck, Shay."

"Good luck in what?" Shay wanted to know, reaching for her backpack.

"I have me a big case I'm going to work on today," Doyle announced.

Cordelia coughed. "He's filing."

Doyle turned to glare at her. "I am not, love! Or ... well ..."

Shay twittered and kissed his cheek. "Good luck, Doyle!"

Doyle looked triumphantly at Cordelia. "You see, love? She cares!"

"I know she does," Cordelia laughed. She grabbed Shay's hand. "C'mon, Hon, we're taking Angel's convertible." She winked at Angel, who looked ready to pass out at the thought.

"Oooh, yay!" Shay squealed. She ran to her father. "Bye, Daddy!"

He scooped her up and kissed her cheek. "Bye, Shay ... you have a good day, all right?"

Shay nodded vigorously, squirming out of his arms. "Daddy, I'm ten years old, I'm too old to be picked up!"

"Oh, of course," Angel nodded. "You're a lady now."

"That's right!" She agreed, running back to Cordelia who was walking out the door. She waved to the two Irish men left in the house. "Bye!"

"Bye," they murmured softly, in unison.

*****

Cordelia pulled the car to a screeching halt in front of Hemery Elementary School. "Want me to come in with you?" she asked Shay, unlocking the doors.

Shay gave Cordelia a look. "Cordelia! I'm ten years old! 'Sides, *Doyle* never comes in with me."

"And you should be glad for that, he'd probably embarrass you," Cordelia muttered cheerfully, leaning across the seat to kiss Shay's cheek. "Do you have your lunch and homework?"

"Yes, *Mom*," Shay murmured jokingly, displaying a blue lunchbox. "I have to go now. I'm late. Bye!"

"Bye!" Cordelia called, watching Shay run into the building, her backpack hitting against her legs. Shaking her head, she floored the gas and sped off.

A sandy-haired woman smiled sadly, watching the brunette zip out of the schoolyard before turning her attention to the young girl getting a late pass from a teacher in the hallway. She watched her shift from foot to foot as she attempted to sweet-talk the teacher into not giving her a detention for being late.

The woman bit her lip, a tear trickling down her cheek. There were so many memories ... and so many memories that she didn't have - that she had denied herself of.

The girl in the building disappeared through a set of doors, leaving the school lobby empty, except for the teacher tapping her foot impatiently in the hallway, and the woman turned away from the building and moved in the direction of her car, limping slightly.

*****

"That's never goin' to come off," Doyle informed Angel, watching him scrub at the wall.

Angel sighed, tossing the sponge in the sink. "Just another marking of having a daughter. With all the other stains, it won't make much of a difference."

"That's the spirit! I'll cut ye a deal ... bring all the dishes to the sink, and I'll wash 'em up." Doyle knelt down and opened the cabinet under the sink, in search of soap. "I don't see any soap, Angel ..." He trailed off, reaching in and grabbing something. "Mama ... what are ye doing in here?" he asked, looking at the stuffed bear.

Angel chuckled. "I can't believe she still calls that bear Mama."

"I can," Doyle responded seriously, tossing the bear to Angel and then reaching farther back for the soap. "She misses 'er."

Angel sighed resignedly. "I know she does ... we all do." He flashed a bittersweet smile. "Remember when we first got her?"

Doyle nodded. "Do I ever ... I thought Delia was going to have a heart attack when ye told her ..."

"Willow came over in the middle of the night," Angel reminisced. "It was pouring rain, the remainder of a hurricane."

"And she had a little bundle, wrapped in pink, under her arm," Doyle continued, a smile forming on his lips. "And you asked her what she was doing here, and who's baby was that, and she said -"

" 'She's yours'," Angel's mouth formed the words spoken to him so many years ago. "And she handed me the baby ... a note ... and that teddy bear, and told me the note would explain everything and the teddy bear's name was 'Mama'." Angel blinked quickly, keeping tears from falling.

"And all these years later, you've still got the teddy bear and the baby!"

"The *lady*," Angel corrected, attempting to grin. "I still have the note, too." Without hesitation, he pulled out his wallet and removed a paper from it. He didn't read it aloud, for it was too painful, but as he had done so many times in the past, he read it to himself.

Angel,

My love . . . this is Shay. She is ours - mine and yours. I can't care for her like she deserves and so I'm entrusting her with you. Please, take good care of her, I love her desperately. She is a month old . . . her name means 'a gift', which I believe she is. I'm so sorry I can't come to you in person and that I can't explain. If she cries, give her her teddy bear, it always comforts her. After living 250 years, I trust you can figure out the rest. I know she is yours . . . just look at her eyes. I love you, Angel, always.

Buffy

"You okay?" Doyle asked Angel gently.

"Yeah. Fine," he affirmed, quickly folding the paper up and shoving it back in his wallet. "Let's get these dishes done."

*****

"Hey, you two!" Cordelia chirped, throwing open the front door and dancing in. She kicked off her platforms, wiggling her toes. "Ow. Those things hurt like a bitch. Have you ever *worn* them? ... Probably not."

"Delia, are you talking to yourself?" Doyle called to her good-naturedly.

"Apparently I am!" she chuckled, peeking her head into the kitchen. Spotting both men, she paraded in, greeting Doyle with a kiss. When she pulled away, she looked at Angel, who was drying dishes with an almost sullen look on his face. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the coffin!"

Angel turned to look at her. "Enough, Cordy. Please."

The smile fell from her face. "Okay Mr. Suddenly-not-Happy." She turned to Doyle and questioned in a stage whisper, "What's his deal?"

Doyle blew out a breath at her lack of tact and pulled her into another room. "I found Mama under the sink -"

"You found your *mother* under the sink?!" Cordelia shrieked.

"The *bear*, Delia, the bear."

"Oh. I knew that," she covered, reaching for a barrette that was on the end table.

"And then he was brooding and reading that letter from Buffy and it kind of upset him, understandably so."

"I think he needs some chocolate fudge ice cream!" Cordelia declared, heading for the refrigerator.

Doyle shook his head, following her and muttering to himself, "Somehow, I doubt that."

*****

Shay bounded out of the front door of the school, spotting Doyle's orange-ish car immediately. "Doyle!" she shrieked delightedly, tugging open the front door and sliding in.

"Uh, uh, uh, little missy, back seat. You know what Angel says about airbags."

Shay stuck out her tongue at him. "Cor*delia* lets me."

"Delia has no patience," he reminded her. "Now, back seat, right away."

"Fiiiine," Shay relented, leaving her backpack on the floor and climbing into the backseat.

"So, did you have a good day?" Doyle questioned, weaving around a school bus. "What did you do, lass?"

Shay giggled. "You still call me 'lass'! We made Mother's Day presents, we're having a mother-daughter brunch next week. I'm going to ask Cordelia to come with me ... do you think she will?"

"I think she'd be delighted," Doyle smiled.

"Hey ... is that car following us?" Shay had twisted in her seat to see a small green car close behind them.

"I don't think so, lass." Doyle looked in his rearview mirror, examining the car - a Hyundai - and it's driver - a small woman with a few strands of wispy brown hair falling from under a black cap, wearing dark sunglasses to keep out the rays. "She's probably just goin' to her home like we are. Now turn around, it's dangerous to be sittin' that way."

Shay squirmed in her seat until she was facing forward again. "Okay, but I think we need to investigate."

"What are ye, Nancy Drew?" Doyle chuckled. "You go ahead and investigate, Shay, but nothing dangerous, hear me? Your father would have my head."

"Daddy? Daddy never killed anyone!" Shay protested, but Doyle said nothing, the smile falling from his face.

Doyle pulled the car into the driveway and opened the door for Shay. "I think your father's taking his nap, Shay, so don't be too loud."

"Why does Daddy always nap in the afternoon?" Shay asked. "He never takes me to the park."

"Your daddy has a night job, Shay, y'know that. He needs his rest durin' the day time." He grabbed her backpack for her. "Why don't ye go ask Delia about comin' to the brunch?"

"Okay!" Shay agreed cheerfully, bounding into the house with Doyle following, neither one of them noticing the green Hyundai parked down the street.

*****

"Shay!" Cordelia cried when the door opened. She kissed her cheek. "Did you have a good day at school?"

Shay nodded, throwing her backpack on the floor. "Can I ask you a question?"

Cordelia dipped her head in a nod. "Sure. Pick up your backpack, Shay, you know your father doesn't want you leaving it on the floor."

Shay gave an exaggerated sigh and heaved the backpack into the nearby closet. "*Now* can I ask you something?"

"I already agreed," Cordelia chuckled, winking at Doyle and leading Shay to the kitchen table. She took a bowl of fruit from the counter and placed it on the table, taking an apple for herself.

Shay made a face. "Don't we have cookies?"

"Not till you eat your fruit," Cordelia said firmly, though a smile was twitching at the corner of her mouth.

Shay relented and grabbed a banana, slashing the skin quickly with her fingernail. "Can I ask my question now?"

"Shoot," Cordelia agreed, crunching on the red apple.

"Okay ... well, see, Mother's Day is coming up," Shay began through a mouthful of banana, "And since I don't actually have a real mom ... I thought maybe you could come to the brunch we're having at school?" she finished almost shyly.

A huge smile appeared on Cordelia's face and she leaned across the table to hug Shay. "I would love to."

"Really?" Shay grinned too. "Thanks, Cordelia!"

"You're welcome, Shay."

Shay popped the last of the banana in her mouth and stood up to throw away the peel. Moving back the table, she frowned. "Hey, Cordelia?"

"Hmmm?" The woman in question stood up and opened the refrigerator, snatching out two Snapple bottles, passing one to Shay as she sat back down.

"What was ... what was my real mother like?" Shay trained her eyes on her bottle as she struggled to open it.

Cordelia halted her actions quickly. "Wh-What brought up that question?"

"I just ... I don't know anything about her ... and I guess it doesn't matter, because I have Daddy, and Doyle, and you ... but she's my mother," Shay explained as well as a ten-year-old could.

"Your mother was ... in a word ... amazing. She was perfect, Shay, everyone loved her."

"Even Daddy?" Shay asked, wide-eyed.

"Especially Daddy," Cordelia corrected. "Buffy was ... good, and kind, and caring ... she always looked out for everyone else. She was kind of like a superhero, only human."

"Wow," Shay whispered, overwhelmed, her eyes wide.

"Yeah," Cordelia agreed wistfully.

"So why isn't she here?" Shay voiced the question that Cordelia - and Angel - had known would come eventually.

"I don't know," Cordelia answered truthfully, ruffling Shay's hair. "I just don't know."

"Can I ask Daddy?" Shay questioned softly.

"Oh, Shay ..." Cordelia trailed off. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

Cordelia dodged the question. "Go do your homework, Shay."

"But why not?" Shay asked again.

"I think you should do your homework before your father wakes up," the woman repeated in a stern voice.

"Okay," the young girl whispered, standing up. "I'm sorry."

Cordelia didn't respond, but a tear trickled down her cheek.

*

"She misses her, Doyle," Cordelia murmured, snuggling up closer to him in their bed that night.

Doyle trailed his fingers through her mahogany locks. "I know, Delia ... can you blame her?"

"No," Cordelia whispered softly. "But Doyle ... what if she brings up the topic of Buffy ... to Angel? I told her not to, but she's curious, and a ten-year-old can only keep quiet for so long."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, love," Doyle promised. "Besides ... would it be such a bad thing if she did?"

Cordelia glanced at the picture that was on their desk, of Angel and Shay laughing as he tried to cut her hair. "It would hurt him. She didn't say goodbye, and I know he misses her."

"That's only natural," her lover reminded her. "But sometimes a little pain is necessary."

"I guess so," Cordelia agreed softly, resting her head on his chest. "Doyle?"

"Yes, Delia?" he questioned, looking down into her eyes.

"Promise me ... promise me that if we ... that if we ever have a child, that no matter what, we'll raise her together."

"I promise, love. I wouldn't have it any other way." He kissed the top of her head gently.

*****

The brownish-blond woman picked up a green pen and opened her diary. Her watch read past midnight, and she vowed to herself to keep this entry short.

12:15

I saw her again today. ... She's so beautiful, so perfect. He's doing such a great job raising her. Sometimes, though ... I just wish I could be there, too.

Her hand shook slightly as she wrote and the pen slipped onto the quilt. She cursed aloud, reaching for it. As she did, the pages of her diary flipped backwards. Staring down, she had to suck in a breath to keep from crying.

April 1, 2011

I saw my baby today for the first time in over 10 years. How did I ever let her slip away from me?

She stopped after that line, the emotion getting too much to bear. It had been long enough. It was time to do something.

*****

"Bye, Mr. Miller!" Shay yelled, cavorting out the front door of the elementary school.

"Bye, Shay!" the teacher responded good-naturedly. "Are you walking home?"

"Nah-uh," Shay denied. "Cordelia's meeting me at the ice cream shop down there," she pointed. "They just got banana cream pie!"

"Sounds good," Mr. Miller smiled. "Be careful, okay?"

"Okay," Shay agreed readily as the teacher returned to the school building and she began walking. She had gone no more than six paces when someone grabbed her shoulder. Shay shrieked, whirling around.

"Shhhh," whispered the small woman. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you."

Shay knew she should be afraid and run, but there was something soothing about the woman's hazel eyes and her soft voice, and she couldn't feel any fear. "W-What do you want?"

"You're so beautiful ... just as beautiful as you were the day you were born, Shay."

"Who are you? How do you know my name?" Shay wanted to know.

"You can call me ... B," the woman responded, after stopping to think.

"B? What's that short for?"

She sighed and closed her eyes momentarily. "Promise not to tell your father? Or anyone?"

"Cross my heart," Shay vowed, making an X across her chest.

"Buffy," she admitted gently.

Shay's eyes widened with realization. "You're ... are you ... are you my mother?"

"No. Yes. I don't know ..."

"You don't know? How come?" Shay frowned in confusion.

"Yes ..." Buffy finally conceded. "But you can't tell anyone that you talked to me."

"Why not?"

"You just can't," Buffy responded, almost harshly. Tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to spill over, when she saw the hurt look on her daughter's face. "Oh, Shay, I'm so sorry ..."

Shay shook her head. "It's okay ..."

"You're getting so big," Buffy marveled. "Almost eleven, right?"

"August thirty-first," Shay confirmed proudly, and that was when the tears did begin to fall.

"I ... I should go," Buffy said hoarsely, taking a few steps to a green Hyundai and slowly easing herself into the driver's seat.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Shay asked, noting the barely visible limp her mother had.

"I hurt everyone," Buffy replied, nodding slightly.

"Will I see you again?" Shay questioned softly.

"Do you want to?" Buffy asked, wanting an honest answer.

"Yes," Shay said without hesitation.

"Then you will," Buffy promised. "Goodbye, Shay."

"G'bye, B ... Buffy ... Mom," Shay added in a scarcely audible voice.

Buffy averted her gaze as she stepped on the gas, not looking back, for she knew if she did, she wouldn't be able to leave.

Shay watched the car drive away, a pang of sadness hitting her. Before she had the chance to ponder it, though, Cordelia ran up to her, screaming her name.

"What's wrong?" Shay asked worried, running clumsily towards Cordelia.

"*Who* were you talking to, young lady?!" she cried, grasping Shay by the arms. "You know better than that! I came out looking for you because you were late, and I found you talking to a perfect stranger. Care to *explain* yourself?"

Shay opened her mouth, and quickly shut it again. "No."

Cordelia looked at her in disbelief. "So now you just go talking to strangers and don't even offer any information? That woman could have been a *psycho*path for all you know!"

Shay threw her backpack on the ground angrily, glaring at Cordelia. "My mother is *not* a psychopath!!!"

"Well you -" Cordelia stopped short as Shay's words sunk in. "*What* did you say?"

Shay backed up nervously against a fence. "Nothing," she denied quickly.

"No, no, you said your *mother*. What are you talking about, Shay? Buffy's not here ..." a thought struck Cordelia and her eyes widened. "Is she?" Shay's silence was all Cordelia needed for conformation. "Just how long have you been talking to her secretly, Shay Elizabeth Summers?!"

"I just met her," Shay told Cordelia softly, staring at the ground. She looked up quickly. "You can't tell Daddy!"

"Oh no ... you think I'm going to keep this a *secret*?! That the love of his life - and the mother of his child - is back in town, talking to his daughter secretly after ditching her off ten years ago, and hasn't made any effort to contact him? I don't *think* so!"

"Please, Cordelia," Shay begged. "She made me promise not to tell."

"A little late for that, don't you think?" Cordelia tapped her foot on the cracked sidewalk.

Shay didn't say anything, merely gave Cordelia a pleading look.

Cordelia sighed. "I won't tell your father. Yet," she added sternly off Shay's look. "I *will*, however, tell Doyle, and the two of us will have to figure out what to do. Until then, no more rendezvous' like that one!"

"But ..."

"I said none," Cordelia repeated sharply. "This is enough trouble for all of us as it is."

"Okay," Shay agreed softly. "I promise." The instant the words were out of her mouth, though, she knew that this would be the second time in her life that she broke a promise.

*****

"Doyle?" Cordelia asked very softly, taking heed to the fact that Shay and Angel were asleep in nearby rooms.

"Hmmm?"Ew"What would you do if you knew Buffy was back in town, and that Shay had talked to her? Would you tell Angel?"

Doyle opened his eyes and sat up in the bed. "Buffy's back in town?!"

"Shhh!" Cordelia hissed. "Hypothetically."

"*Hypothetically*, I'd tell Angel. Or talk to her and try to get her to tell Angel. It's the right thing to do, Delia."

"Oh," she murmured. "She's back, Doyle."

"I thought she might be when you said that," Doyle agreed. "How? Why?"

"I don't know ... I didn't see her. Shay did. She came and talked to Shay, and then left. Oh, gosh ... I don't know what to do ... I made Shay promise not to talk to her again."

"Princess, it's not your place to deny Shay and Buffy of their right to talk."

"Isn't it?" Cordelia asked bitterly. "She left."

"I know she did, but we don't know the circumstances. I don't think Shay's going to really stop talking to her, though ..."

"She promised. Shay has never broken a promise ... has she?"

Doyle shrugged slightly. "Not that I know of, but if she thinks it's important, she may very well do that."

"Then what do we do?"

"Angel needs to know ... somehow. I think it would be better if Buffy talked to him, willingly ... if not ... well, we'll come to that hurdle when we get there."

"I don't think Buffy really wants to be seen by us." Cordelia trailed her fingers over his chest gently.

"I'm sure she doesn't ... Why don't we go a little early to pick up Shay tomorrow, and wait in the car and see if we spot them?"

"You mean like spy?" Cordelia questioned.

"Something like that ..."

Cordelia bit her lip. "I guess so. I feel so bad, Doyle, I'm keeping things from Angel ...asking Shay to not speak to her mother ... spying on my old friend ..."

"You do what you have to do, love. We both know that," Doyle reminded her.

"Yeah," Cordelia agreed in a whisper. "But that doesn't make me feel any better."

Doyle kissed her hair. "Get some rest, Delia. We'll take more tomorrow."

*****

"Do you think she will be able to see us?" Cordelia asked Doyle, tapping her manicured nails against the steering wheel.

"No," Doyle murmured. "It's almost four, she should be getting out soon."

"Yeah, well where's Buffy? What if she doesn't show ... Doyle?" Cordelia questioned, realizing he wasn't paying attention to her.

"No worries," Doyle informed her, opening the car door. "There she is." He pointed to Buffy, leaning on her car and looking up at the sun.

"So do we attack her or act all stealth?" Cordelia wanted to know, reaching for the handle of her door.

"I say we go up and say hi ... maybe you should go first. In fact, I'll stay here and watch for Shay."

"Oh, yeah, just leave me with the hard job," Cordelia muttered, clattering out of the car in her short skirt and heels.

"Go on," Doyle pushed, giving her a small smile.

"All right, all right," she hobbled over towards Buffy, who was parked across the street, trying to keep her shoes quiet and regretting having worn nearly six-inch heels. She was almost to the car when Buffy turned around. A stricken expression crossed her face when she realized who was walking to her, and she reached for her car door.

"Uh-uh. No you don't," Cordelia protested, placing one heel on the hood of the car. "Sorry, Buffy, no running today."

"What do you want?" Buffy asked quietly, avoiding her intense gaze.

"Answers would be nice, but I'm not going to push for them now ... I want to know just who you think you are, leaving your daughter without so much as a good-bye and then assuming you can just *waltz* back into her life ten years later with no notice whatsoever."

"I had to. You wouldn't understand."

"Enlighten me," Cordelia drawled, removing her foot from the hood and walking over to stand in front of Buffy. Her heels made her nearly six feet tall, and she towered over the petite hazel-eyed woman.

"I don't owe you an explanation," Buffy protested coldly.

"No, you don't," Cordelia agreed. "But I think you do owe Shay - and Angel - an explanation. And I'm sure they'd like one."

"She said she wasn't going to tell anyone."

Cordelia shrugged. "She slipped up when I yelled at her for talking to strangers."

Buffy's eyes blazed. "How *dare* you yell at my daughter?"

"How dare *you* leave her?" Cordelia responded evenly, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Look, you weren't there, you don't know what happened, just leave me alone!" Buffy flung open the car door and got in.

Cordelia knelt down, resting her arms on the rolled down window. She watched Buffy struggle to start the ignition and reached in to take the keys from her, regarding her coolly. "I haven't told Angel that you're here yet. I was hoping to get you to do that. But if you refuse, I *will* tell him. And you know what side of the story he's going to hear?" she paused for effect. "Mine." She stood up, dropping the keys on the floor by Buffy's feet. "Just remember that when you're running away."

"You don't understand," Buffy whispered. "I didn't have a choice."

"You know what, Buffy? Save the pity party for someone who cares. I have better things to do than sit around and listen to you whine."

Buffy leaned down to grab the keys from the floor, and Cordelia's eyes widened when she saw the scar on the back of Buffy's neck that her hair had hid. "What'd you do?"

"What?" Buffy questioned, then noticing Cordelia staring at the back of her neck, closed her eyes. When she opened them, she didn't answer the question. "I should talk to him, huh?"

"Yeah," Cordelia agreed. "You should. He doesn't deserve the crap you're putting him through, whether it's on purpose or not."

"I couldn't raise her, Cordelia. You saw ..."

"You cut your neck?" Cordelia snorted. "Look here." She lifted her chin up to reveal a scar on the underside. "Sliced it open fighting a demon. You don't see me running."

Buffy blinked back tears. "I know it's not an excuse. And I know you don't understand. But it was something I had to do. The hardest thing I've ever had to do."

Cordelia shrugged. "Personally, I think you made a bad decision and exaggerated something not half-bad because you couldn't handle being a teen mother. But you know what? It's not my place. It's Angel's place, and you need to talk to him."

Buffy pressed her keys into Cordelia's hand and then reached for the door handle. "Take my keys, Cordelia, don't let me run away from this."

"I won't," Cordelia vowed, waiting as Buffy switched seats. She gave Doyle a thumbs-up sign and then slid into the drivers seat, kicking off her shoes in the tiny car. "I don't pretend to understand why you did it, Buffy. But I'm glad you're talking now."

Buffy leaned her head against the window. "I don't know if I am."

*

Angel was filing when the door opened up and Cordelia stormed in, her shoes in her hands. She tossed them carelessly on the floor and looked at Angel.

"Something wrong?" Angel asked, noting Cordelia's pointed stare. A worry-line crept onto his forehead. "Is it Shay?"

Cordelia shook her head. "Nothing's wrong. Shay's fine, Doyle's going to take her to the mall or something."

Angel looked at the clock. "It's four ... she only gets out of school now. How did you get back?"

"I got a ride with a ... friend. Are you in a bad mood?"

Angel winced. "I hate it when you start sentences like that."

Cordelia shrugged. "Sorry. Put away the filing."

"But ... why?"

"Put away the filing," Cordelia repeated, more firmly this time. She seemed to be contemplating and finally arrived at a decision. "I have a ... surprise for you. Go wait in your bedroom."

"Cordelia, you know I hate surprises ..." Angel protested.

"You'll love this one. I hope," she added under her breath. "Go now! Shoo! Bedroom!" She waved him away with her hand, smiling as he frowned and retreated up the stairs. With that, she hurried back to the front porch, where Buffy was leaning against the doorframe nervously.

"I'm glad you took my keys," Buffy admitted. "Otherwise I would have left."

"You always could have run by foot ..."

"Not hardly," Buffy replied, and Cordelia was surprised to see her eyes glittering with tears.

"Are you okay? Will you be able to go through with this?"

"I think I have to," was Buffy's quiet reply.

"Okay then, come on ... he's up in his bedroom."

"I know. I heard your conversation," she whispered, following Cordelia slowly.

"ANGEL!" Cordelia shouted. "We're coming up!"

"Who's 'we'?" Angel called back.

"You'll see," Cordelia informed him, peeking her head into his bedroom. "No matter what, don't freak out."

"Cordelia, I don't like the sound of this -" Angel stopped abruptly when Buffy came into view. He blinked quickly several times, opening his mouth to say something but no sound coming out.

"I think you guys need to talk. I'll go make sure Doyle and Shay are okay! Buffy, I'm taking your car!" Cordelia chirped, making a speedy exit.

"Hello, Angel," Buffy greeted him softly.

Angel shut his eyes tightly and then opened them again. "Buffy?"

"Yeah. How have you been? I haven't seen you in a long time ..."

"No," Angel agreed, "You haven't. Seeing as you took off without a trace."

Buffy flinched at the hardness in his voice. "Can I sit down?"

Angel shrugged, motioning to a black recliner. "Be my guest."

"Thanks," she murmured, sitting down in the recliner and wincing.

"Are you okay?" Angel questioned her, still worried for her after all these years.

"I'm fine." Buffy nodded.

"So. I'm going to cut to the chase ... what brings you here?"

"Shay," Buffy responded without missing a beat.

"Shay?" Angel's eyebrows went up. "I guess I should have figured. You left her, Buffy, gave her to me without even offering an explanation. You can't just come back nearly eleven years later and expect everything to be okay!"

"I *never* expected that," Buffy responded through clenched teeth. "I *had* to leave her."

"Don't feed me crap like that, Buffy. You *chose* to leave her, when she was a little baby."

"Just like you chose to leave me when I needed you most." Buffy tried to keep her voice level.

"I said goodbye and I told you why I had to do it."

"No, you know what? You *didn't* say goodbye. You specifically told me you were *not* going to say goodbye. And you didn't have one damn good reason, Angel."

"I did what I had to do. But that was years ago, and it's better left buried. You said you came here because of Shay, what about her? I'm not giving her up to you."

"No, you wouldn't," Buffy agreed bitterly. "I didn't come to take her from you, Angel. All I wanted to do was see her. I wasn't planning on you even knowing. I just wanted to see her once, just wanted to hear her voice, to tell myself she was real, and that she was okay, and that you were doing a good job raising her."

"So why are you here? She's not home right now."

"I already saw her. And then I couldn't give her up again. And then she told Cordelia, who came and found me ... and convinced me that I needed to talk to you. So here I am, Angel. This is me."

Angel stood up from his seat sharply, knocking it over. "Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are to just get yourself pregnant and run off?!"

"That's *not* how it happened," Buffy hissed back. "You don't know why I did what I did. And damn it, Angel, I left her with you because she's *yours* and I *trusted* you and I *loved* you."

"Things change," Angel responded evenly, and Buffy felt her heart break a little more. "And I still don't see how she could be mine. I'm a vampire. She's too young, anyway."

"And you think I know? You think I know *how* I got pregnant from someone who hadn't made love to me in two years?! And do you think it didn't *kill* me to give her up? She was all I had in my life, she was what made my life worth living, and I had to give her up! I thought I was going to *die*, Angel, it *killed* me to make that decision. But I made it because it was what was good for *her*. I put *her* first, not me, and I gave her the life I didn't have!"

"By denying her a mother?" Angel questioned coolly.

"By giving her a family! The *chance* to have a family, a father who loved her, people who cared about her. I know it's not the same as having two loving parents, but I wanted to her to have the best she could, and at the time you were it. Maybe I made a stupid decision in entrusting you with her, but it was all I could do!" She slammed her hand down on a nearby end table and then screeched as pain shot through her body and she covered her mouth to muffle her sobs of pain, both physically and emotionally.

A look of concern crossed Angel's face, but he continued with his question. "So tell me," he suggested. "Tell me what your oh-so-great reasoning was."

A tear streaked down Buffy's cheek as she leaned forward and parted her hair away from her neck, revealing her scar. "That's why." She pulled off her boots, revealing two jagged scars wrapping around either ankle. "And that's why."

"Buffy ... what happened?" Angel asked gently.

"I was learning to drive," Buffy began to explain. "My ... my boyfriend at the time was teaching me. About two weeks after Shay was born, I decided to go for a drive on my own. And I wrecked."

"It couldn't have been that bad. You're just fine, you could raise a child in your condition."

"How *dare* you?" Buffy hissed. Her voice was rising rapidly. "How *dare* you act like you know what I could and couldn't do. You think I was like this the whole time? For ten years? I didn't think I'd ever be able to walk again. I was in a coma for four days, and when I woke up I was paralyzed from my neck down. I couldn't move, I couldn't do *anything*, let alone raise a child."

"So why didn't you give her to Willow or someone and have her raise Shay until you could?"

"Because I didn't *know* that I'd ever be able to!" Buffy shrieked at him. "The doctors told me it was permanent - that that was my *life*. I couldn't be the mother she deserved, and I'd be damned before I cheated her of a father, too. That was the most heart-breaking decision I have *ever* made, Angel, and not a day goes by when I don't wonder if I did the right thing," she finished, resting her head in her hands and beginning to cry freely.

Angel was shocked, torn between going to comfort her, to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay, or to stay put and let her cry it out. He chose the latter, regarding her sadly.

She lifted her head up to look at him, her face tear-stained and her eyes watering. "Every day, Angel, every day was a struggle. It took me years and years of therapy, both physical and mental, to overcome that accident. And sometimes ... sometimes I just wanted to give up. What did I have to live for, anyway? I didn't have you, and I didn't have our daughter. But I kept pushing all the same. And I beat it," she continued hoarsely. "Sometimes I wonder if it was worth all the pain."

"Shhhh," Angel murmured, finally coming over to her and kneeling in front of her, folding her in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, holding him tightly, her tears soaking his shirt. "You made it, and I'm so proud of you."

"It still hurts," she sobbed. "Both physically and emotionally. I still have a limp ... some days it worse than others. Some days, I can go on with my life like nothing happened. Some days, I can't get out of bed, it hurts so bad. And the hurt inside me ... that's the worst kind of all. I gave up the two things most precious to me - you and Shay. And I lost you for good. I lost you both for good ..."

"No, you didn't," Angel denied gently. "I'm here with you now."

"But you're angry at me ... and you have every right to be. And Shay ... oh, Shay ... I missed so much of her life ... and as soon as I leave ... I'm going to miss the rest."

"Then don't leave." There was a pleading note in Angel's voice. "Stay here ... stay with me ... stay with our daughter ..."

"I don't want your pity," she choked out, and Angel felt his heart shatter. She thought he was only asking her out of pity ...

"I love you," he told her honestly, and her eyes widened at those three magical words.

"No ... you can't possibly ... not after what I did to you," she cried, pulling away from him. "I betrayed you, and Shay, when I had no right to -"

"Shhhh ... no more crying." He kissed the top of her head gently.

"It's not that easy, Angel! I had no right to come back and expect it to be okay, and I have to right to want you to love me," she finished quietly.

"But I do. Buffy ..." he trailed off, trying to hug her back into his embrace. "I'm so sorry for what happened to you. I had no idea ... had you told me, we could have gotten through it. Together, Buffy, we could have raised Shay, and taken care of each other."

"I couldn't even take care of myself," she mumbled with self-loathe.

"Look at me," Angel demanded, gently lifting her chin so his eyes met hers. "That was not your fault. At all. You couldn't help what happened, and you made the decision that you thought was right. You're so strong, and I'm so proud of you for being that strong, and that passionate, and that loving ... and I love you so much."

Tears continued to fall down her cheeks, and she leaned her head back into her hands, sniffling. "I never wanted to hurt you ..."

"What happened happened, Buffy. We can't change the past. But Sweetheart ... we have the future. Please, baby, don't let it pass us by."

She lifted her head slowly, uncertainly, and Angel leaned forward to press his lips onto hers. She sighed with relief, moving her mouth against his. As their passion grew, so did the intensity of their kisses, and soon Angel was kissing her face, her neck, every nuance of skin he could find. Eventually, Buffy pulled away, gasping. "Angel ... we can't ..."

He kissed her mouth. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she responded without hesitation, opening her hazel eyes to meet his chocolate ones.

"Then it's okay." He returned his mouth to hers, sucking at her lip, teasing her tongue with his, until she was gasping for breath again and moaning his name softly. He picked her up and carried her to his bed, and then reached for the top button on her shirt, but she caught his hand.

"No ..." she murmured, tears welling in her eyes.

Angel immediately removed his hand. "It's okay ... we don't have to." He held her comfortingly in his arms, stroking her back lovingly, whispering terms of endearment against her neck.

"It's not that," she denied thickly.

"Then what is it?" he asked gently, the heart-breaking sweetness in her voice almost causing her to cry.

She slowly undid the top three buttons on her shirt and pulled it apart, revealing a scar the went beneath the fabric. "They're all over me, Angel ... I'm not like I was before ... not like you remember."

Angel didn't say anything, instead he softly moved her hand from her shirt, replacing it with his own. As he unfastened each button, his eyes never left hers, two pairs of tear-filled eyes looking only at each other. When the last button was undone, he gently pushed it away, revealing a long scar that trailed from her collarbone to her navel, and several smaller scars along her arms.

Reaching behind her, he unclasped her bra, sliding it off her body, all the while watching her reaction, ready to stop at any moment if she so chose. But she didn't choose, instead she allowed him to worship her to his heart's desire, nearly breaking into sobs when he leaned down and followed the path of her longest scar with his tongue, kissing her neck and chin and the corners of her mouth before finally resting his forehead against hers and brushing her nose with his in an Eskimo-style kiss.

"Angel ... I love you," she whispered hoarsely, awash in the sensations he was presenting her with. "I'm sorry I hurt you ... I'm sorry I hurt Shay ... I -"

He silenced her with a kiss on the mouth, complete with an 'I love you' against her lips that she felt more than heard. She tangled her fingers in his spiky hair, whispering his name over and over again like a sacred hymn.

As he reached for the button on her pants, his lips not leaving her body, her whole world fell away, and all that was left was Angel.

*****

"I love you," Buffy murmured, placing a kiss on his bare chest and running her foot up his calf.

"I love you, too, Buffy. I missed you," Angel admitted truthfully, rubbing her shoulder gently with one hand, the other one tangled in her dark blond hair.

"I missed you, too, Angel, with everything in me, every day ..."

"I have to tell you something."

Noting the serious tone in his voice, Buffy hoisted herself onto her elbow, and Angel did the same, so their eyes met.

"I wasn't completely honest with you."

"About what?" Buffy asked, trying not to fear the worst.

"I told you I didn't know how Shay was conceived ... I lied. I do."

Buffy gasped, her eyes searching his. "H-How?"

Angel ran his thumb along her collarbone in a soothing gesture. "When you came here for Thanksgiving that one year ... you weren't really here for five minutes. You were actually here for a day."

"I don't think I understand."

"You were here ... and we fought the Mohra demon. I killed it ... and it's blood made me mortal. That whole day we spent making love, holding each other, touching each other, loving each other ... just being together. And then the Mohra demon regenerated itself, and we had to fight it again. I made it harder for you because I couldn't fight, and that was when I knew I couldn't be of any help the way I was, I couldn't be the warrior I was destined to be in my condition, and you were going to pay the price for it. So I went to the Oracles ... channels to the Powers That Be ... and I asked them to change me back. Into a vampire. They erased the day, and only I had the memory ... but apparently something else came out of that day. Something like our daughter."

Buffy was dumbfounded, at a complete loss for words. "H-How could you keep that from me? What gave you the right to make that decision without my consent?"

"A demon screwed up the master plan ... Honey, I couldn't let that happen. I did the only thing I could think to do."

"I can relate to that," Buffy whispered, pressing her face into Angel's neck.

"Are you mad?" he asked her, stroking her hair.

"No ... though I wish I had known. But you did what you thought was right, just like I did with Shay. It's in the past ... today is all that matters. Today, and tomorrow, and our lives together. Because Angel ... I ... I want my life to be with you," she repeated the words she had spoken so long ago.

"So do I, my love ... so do I."

"I'm going to get it right this time," Buffy vowed, looking up into his eyes.

"I know you are." Angel kissed her softly. "So am I."

"So where do we start?" Buffy questioned in a whisper.

"With Shay," he responded without hesitation, standing up and offering his hand to her. She took it, crawling out of the bed and reaching for her clothes. Once they were all dressed, she stepped into his arms, her head warming his chest.

"Thank you, Angel," she said softly, her arms tightening around him.

"Thank *you*," he responded with equal tenderness. "We're going to make it this time, Buffy. I promise."

CHALLENGE REQUIREMENTS:
Angel is a single father, raising his and Buffy's child. Buffy is not dead, but upon its birth she gave the child to Angel and disappeared-no one knows why and no one knows where she went, etc. When the child is ten or eleven (Not a teenager!) she reappears in LA, not contacting them but watching from a distance still slaying.
Requirements:
~Angel is still a vamp-do what you want with the curse
~The child can be male or female (although Garnet requests a girl, please.) But he/she CAN'T be a Slayer or supernatural in anyway
~There must be a note, and a teddy bear (cuz I love them), left with the child from Buffy to Angel i.e. This is Sarah and I love her. I know you will, too. Love, Buffy(For info he is given the child by Willow or Cordy or even Whistler if you want...)
~There must be a GOOD reason for her to have done what she did, something agonising for her, that maybe she could have worked out with Angel, maybe not
~A big confrontation, duh...lots of yelling, tears, from Buffy as well as Angel...but away from the child-I hate when parents argue in front of kids
~A sweet love scene, at least implied but preferred full
~ happy ending cuz those are the best-so nobody DIES! (of Buffy, Angel, child, at least!)

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