The chaos Ariana’s announcement brought still could be heard, full force, outside the door. 

The door to Angelus’ rooms, which was currently blocked by Oz, Gunn, Nicholaus, Darla, and half a dozen vampire and elfin guards, was also the object of several glares, snide remarks, and no less than three threats. Both Riley and Xander considered the fact that Angel hadn’t told them of his wife, let alone his child grounds for proving what the pair already thought, that the vampire was far from trustworthy. Wesley was too busy researching all that Angelus was to join in, but if asked, would have agreed. 

Everyone else joined in with the two men, but soon retreated down the hallway, intent on discussing the situation without the many stares from the guards. It wasn’t as if they were going to give out any answers, anyway. 

Willow was lamenting over the fact that the object of her quite unreturned desire was not only married, but had a grown child as well, and both wife and daughter were stunningly beautiful. Faith said nothing, feeling unreasonably betrayed over Angel’s silence over his family, though the slayer knew the vampire never promised them anything, and only helped her because, she figured, he had nothing else to do. 

Cordelia comforted Doyle who felt as if his best friend, the only being to know the true reason he was doing the vision gig – other than Cordelia, but he loved that woman unreasonably – hadn’t been honest with him. The fact that Angel never talked of his life, that Angel never told Doyle much of anything was something Cordelia tried, impatiently, to remind the half demon. 

The two of them were down the hallway in their rooms with Willow and Faith while Riley and Xander stood, arms folded across their chests, in front of the guards standing in front of the door. Darla snickered at the two, while Nicholaus, Oz, and Gunn glared at them as if the duo could actually win against the group. 

Inside that room Buffy and Angelus stood at opposite ends, with Ariana and Andre in a third corner, and William and Drusilla in the middle. William couldn’t control his snickering laugh, and Drusilla continued to smile in her otherworldly way.  

“Well,” William said with a grin, “Someone should talk before we all…age.” Another snickering laugh as Buffy alternated her glare between her husband and her daughter, and William settled back to watch. He and Dru shouldn’t really be here, it was, no doubt, an argument for family. But the younger vampire figured that someone should be around to keep the peace. Of course, the way glares were being exchanged, that didn’t seem likely. 

Not really knowing what to say to Angelus, she turned to her daughter and her daughter’s lover. “Is there a reason,” she began in a deceptively low voice, “That you deliberately ignored me?” 

Andre did his best not to shift nervously, it just wouldn’t do for the heir to the Rezov throne to show weakness before the elf, Queen and Ancient or not. Especially when she was his future wife’s mother. The problem now was to open his mouth and admit to disobeying a direct order, and look foolish, or keep his mouth closed and stand there, looking…foolish. 

Ariana, by the Priestess Andre loved her, rescued him. “You know why I came, mama.” 

Buffy’s eyes ticked to where Angelus stood on the far side of the room, arms folded across his chest, what looked suspiciously like a pout (adorable as it was) on his face, his stance clearly showing that he was not happy about a multitude of things, and that just as soon as he figured them all out there’d be payback. It was the look in his eyes that caused Buffy to catch her breath. 

Longing and wonder lurked deep within those beautiful brown eyes as he gazed upon his daughter for the first time. She was beautiful, tall, proud, and looked just like her mother, Angelus thought even as he acknowledged the resemblance to him as well, though it’d been centuries since he’d really looked at himself in the mirror. The hair, the eyes, the height…but to his biased eye, Ariana looked just like Buffy. Buffy…who looked even more beautiful than the last day he saw her, Buffy who was currently standing mere feet away from him. 

Angelus was desperately afraid he was dreaming. 

“Well, yes,” Buffy admitted with a sigh, then continued, the anger not abated from her voice. “You should have waited, regardless, Ariana.” And Buffy noted Angelus’ slight jerk of recognition at the name and allowed a small smile over that. “I specifically told you to wait until I sent for you. And what,” the queen’s eyes narrowed, “Was Nicholaus thinking?” 

“I ordered him,” Ariana admitted, still standing straight in the face of her mother’s anger, “He is my First and answers to me.”

“He answers to the Ancient of the kingdom, daughter,” Buffy all but hissed as her eyes turned purple. Never had she had so much trouble keeping her temper in check as when it came to her daughter…and that daughter’s father. “As I am the Ancient, he ultimately answers to me.”

Andre, having seen where this argument was going and silently applauding Ariana’s strategic movements, watched Angelus as that vampire growled at Buffy’s use of Ancient. He knew the older vampire was cursed with a soul; his wife contained that elusive quality as well and Andre never understood why Angelus felt the need to leave for so long, abandoning both wife and child. Of course it was not he, Andre, who was in that position and the vampire could honestly say he had no idea what he’d do if faced with that circumstance; vampires weren’t meant to possess a soul, it was unheard of and, Andre thought, quite impossible. 

Now, however, between the appearance of Buffy, the first face to face meeting with his daughter, and this assertion that Buffy was Ancient of his kingdom, Andre thought Angelus was about to explode. 

He wasn’t a coward, far from it in fact, and as much as he wanted to stay for the resulting fireworks, he really did value Ariana’s life. Besides, he had a sneaking suspicion that this argument was less about Ariana refusing to wait for her mother’s call, and more about Angelus. William and Drusilla, having already made their way to the door when Buffy first opened her mouth, stopped as Andre caught their eyes. Dru swayed a little, but William nodded. 

“We’re going to check on the rest of our troops,” Andre said as he clasped Ariana’s hand in his and pulled her from the spiting match with her mother. He wanted to say more, but decided a hasty retreat was best. Andre Vladimir of Rezov didn’t fear his own Ancient nearly as much as he did Buffy.
~~~~~~~~~~
The humans hadn’t moved from their less than intimidating position. 

Darla decided to intervene between the obviously hotheaded humans and the Firsts who were not moving anytime soon. She briefly wondered when she had become the peacemaker, but decided that she really didn’t want to be in the vicinity when Buffy and Angelus had their little…talk. It was sure to be explosive, and while entertaining, Darla was certain her name would be brought up and she didn’t want to be in the line of fire when that happened. 

“Where’s that Watcher of yours, I’m sure he has a lot of…questions.” 

Xander’s gaze swung towards the blonde vampiress and he nodded. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Wesley was insatiably curious. The older man would want to know everything about these vampires. “Why should we trust you?” 

Darla smiled, and for a second Xander was sure she didn’t look nearly as pretty as he’d originally pictured. Shaking off whatever clouded his mind, and reminding himself that she was a vampire and therefore needed to be staked, not ogled, Xander waited as she exchanged looks with the three main guards. 

“Because I have answers that might help,” she replied smoothly, the look on her face never wavering and the looks on the guard’s faces not either. “It’s a long story, why don’t we head down to that watcher, and I tell him over a glass of whisky?” 

Gunn, as the oldest, nodded at her and the three Firsts watched as Darla led the two humans away from Angelus’ door. Just then, the door opened and Ariana, Andre, William, and Drusilla emerged.  

“They’re…talking,” Ariana said with a smirk that would’ve done her father proud. “Stay here; I do not trust these people.” 

Oz and Gunn nodded as Nicholaus fell in step behind Ariana and Andre. William and Dru stayed behind with the remaining Firsts as the heirs to the two kingdoms walked purposely towards the opposite end of the hallway, the vampire and elfin guards following them, to where the rest of this little group was currently holed up. 

“Talking?” Gunn questioned as the silence radiated from within. 

“Oh, yeah,” William replied with a smirk, having no plans to move from his position near this door anytime soon. Privacy so wasn’t an issue anymore and this promised to be better than all the drama of the last years. “Talking; you know them, if it’s got to be said, why not say it with fists?” 

Oz snorted but said nothing. There was very little that could induce the elf to trust Angelus again, not after what he’d done to Buffy, then what he’d done (or not done, Oz never did manage to admit to Buffy that he doubted Angelus was remotely cognizant for that whole fiasco) with Darla. The soul-curse was one thing, but did that really preclude Angelus from leaving his wife, his family, his kingdom? 

Then again, and Oz had decades to formulate this theory: Elves possessed their souls, Vampires did not. What must it be like, the First wondered as the four of them waited by the door for some sign that the couple inside hadn’t killed each other already. What must it be like to suddenly feel for the things one committed while soulless? Oz knew nothing of what Angelus’ life was like pre-vampire, but what of the deaths, what of the decisions, what of all the things he’d done over the millennia that he may have done differently had he possessed a soul? 

To feel suddenly sorry for those things, to remember, now, with a conscience – and no matter what Oz thought on this matter, two hundred Earth years wasn’t nearly enough time to assimilate everything. While this wasn’t nearly enough for Angelus to regain Oz’s trust, it was something, something definitely in the vampire’s favor. 

Oz, First to Buffy, Queen and Ancient of Aurelius couldn’t forgive Angelus for what the vampire did to Oz’s mistress, but he could, maybe, understand why he hadn’t returned afterwards.
~~~~~~~~~~
“You’ve changed, love,” he said somewhat sorrowfully, his hands finding his pockets in an attempt not to reach out for her. Angelus pushed off the wall and walked to her, circling around her, eyeing her form with a decidedly hungry look. “The clothes, the attitude. What happened?” 

“Oh, that’s great,” she scoffed, matching him as they circled around each other, predator to predator. “You leave me because of some stupid misguided sense of pride or a belief in a lie or whatever the hell your reasons were and then have the nerve, the sheer gall to say I’ve changed? Aren’t you forgetting something, lover?” And the last word was said in a mocking tone that reminded Angelus of soulless self. 

“You’re the one who left me, stormed out of not only our home but our realm and got a shiny soul, all polished and ready for reuse. Tell me, Angelus, what happened?” 

Shocked, the vampire stopped in his tracks and stared at his mate. He knew, of course he knew that Buffy knew of the soul, but…“You know; how do you know?” 

“Fool,” she spat at him even as she remembered the pain she felt through him from that day long ago. “I’m your bound mate; I know everything you do. I felt it when those damned gypsies ripped your soul out of the aether and forced it back into your body. Darla only confirmed it when she stumbled back home.” Almost as an after thought she added, “You really shouldn’t have left with her, baby.” 

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” he said, closing his eyes as he realized that the one person he had never wanted to hurt had been hurt through him, anyway. But then his eyes snapped open as he remembered the reason he left. “And what of your child? Have you taken up with the father? Taken over my kingdom, as well, with him?” 

The fact that it was more than obvious Ariana looked like him meant nothing to a wounded vampire as he lashed out. The fact that he knew, deep down no matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise that Ariana was his child didn’t matter as Angelus let all the years of pain and anger, of heartache and loneliness wash over him. Years when Buffy never found him, years when she stayed snug in his kingdom and sent people out to find him, but never doing so himself. Years when the only thing he wanted was to see her once more, to hold her and touch her and to know that she was in his arms where she belonged. 

Roaring in rage, Buffy flew at him again, knocking them both to the floor, as she pounded on her husband. “Never speak of Ariana that way, never! You know nothing, Angelus, nothing! You never bothered to listen then so don’t even think you have the right to anything now!” 

Grabbing her much smaller form in his tight grasp, Angelus shook her as Buffy continued to hit him, her anger and sorrow flowing freely around the room. She was strong, there was never any doubt about that, but he was always stronger. She had her magicks, but never used them against him, and Angelus knew she wouldn’t now, either. 

He wrapped his smaller lover in his arms, effectively trapping her against his chest. She instantly stilled, whether because she knew she was outmaneuvered, or because the sensation of their bodies pressed against each other was something to always savor, even now, when so many years passed. His body responded instantly, as it always did whenever she was near him but Angelus did nothing, he couldn’t. Surprise, hope, that faint fear that this was all a dream still lingered within him. 

“Buffy,” he said aloud unable to resist any longer, before kissing her once more. Her response was as passionate now as it had been the last time they had touched and Angelus spent long minutes reacquainting himself with her never-forgotten taste, her longed for mouth. 

Years passed between them, different lives, misunderstandings, anger, pain, all of it lay between them, untouched for the simple reason that they were both too scared to bring all that up. It’d taken years to accumulate all the baggage between them, how long would it take to resolve it? 

He pulled away slowly and rested his forehead against hers, ‘I’ve missed you so much, beloved, so very much.’ 

Jerking out of his embrace, Buffy shoved him away, screaming, “Stay the hell out of my head! You lost that right when you left!” 

And back to square one they were. 

Long minutes passed between them, but neither made a move to leave the room. Angelus leaned against the wall opposite where Buffy sat on his lone chair. They avoided the bed as if it were a pit of snakes with a taste for elfin and vampiric flesh. The quiet was oppressing, stifling anything they wanted to say and still neither made any move to break it. It was less a contest of wills, who broke first, and so much more because neither knew where to begin. 

He’d long ago slid to the floor, back against the wall, knees drawn up. His thoughts alternated between two things, the first, as always, was Buffy. What happened to her these long years, what she’d done, who she talked to that wasn’t him, what she thought, wanted, dreamed of. The second was Ariana. 

Angelus knew that she was his daughter; both soul and demon were finally in agreement with that statement. Angelus knew the veracity of Buffy’s claim that she was pregnant with his child long before the soul made its return engagement. It was the reason he’d left their home, true, but it was also the reason he was returning. The soul was harder to convince. 

Not because of any feelings of hatred on its part, for the soul loved Buffy just as much as the demon, but because of something else. Of guilt and inadequacy brought on by too many memories and too much to regret. The soul was the one to doubt Buffy because any claim made to Angelus or by Angelus pre-soul was subject to doubt by the soul. 

It was the cause of more than one schizophrenic conversation between the being called Angelus, and something he wanted, desperately, to finally be over. 

His eyes ticked to the door once more, wondering what Ariana was doing now, wondering at the extent of her obvious relationship with Andre Vladimir. Wondering about her childhood, about her life, about what she thought of her mother…about what she thought of him. 

“What’s she like?”

Previous Part      Where Do We Go From Here?

Always Index       Christine's Page        Home