Balance

By

* * * * *

Angel felt...not really light headed. But light-hearted was definitely the right word, even if taken literally. Rather.... light-souled seemed to fit, as he felt it floating gently inside him, not heavy at all. The demon had raged and screamed and clawed within, and cursed and sneered without, as the new spell was cast, and his soul returned to its proper place. Not that Angelus was removed or dead, but truly trapped. Relegated to the darkest recesses of Angel's mind, where his most brooding thoughts and deepest depressions hid, the demon wasn't coming out anytime soon. *Hopefully never again.* "Did it work?" he asked, trying not to sound over eager.

At his words, the tension around him broke, and the women burst into smiles.

"Thank goodness you're you again," Willow grinned. "At least we know your ensouled."

"But is he permanent?" Anya asked.

Tara frowned for a moment, clearly concentrating on some spell. Angel could feel the hum of its magic around him. Then she smiled. "It worked!"

Anya set down her holy water. "So you mean he won't kill us if he has sex now?"

Willow actually chuckled. "He's harmless. At least, he is to people he likes."

Angel felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his soul. In all reality, it had. He couldn't harm his friends anymore. He wasn't going to turn into Angelus and maim, kill, rape, destroy... Now, he was just Angel. Not redemption, but not too bad either! He might even have a chance to... no. He wouldn't let himself believe that he and Buffy might have sexual relations of any kind in the near future. Her second ex-boyfriend had been turned, then died at her hand, leaving her the mother of infant twins, belonging to her first ex, who felt honored simply to be her friend now. Things were too complicated. As much as he wanted to bet that if he'd gone to her right then and tackled her on the floor, she wouldn't have resisted, but that would ruin any chance they had to do things *right.*

Slowly, he became aware that the chains that held him were beginning to chafe his hands and ankles. "Ummm, someone want to let me up?"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Cordelia asked, returning at last. Her face was not as happy as those around her, and Angel had to wonder why one of his closest friends looked so somber at one of his happiest moments. "I think you need to talk to Buffy."

Buffy. Well of course he did, she'd be thrilled to hear that his soul was.... Cordelia's face stopped his thoughts. "What...what did I do?" He could slightly remember what had happened. Perhaps the suppression of the demon had partially blocked some of his Angelus memories. They were there, but they were vague.

"Not you," Cordelia corrected him. "Angelus. He told her about.... about the day that only you and Doyle knew about."

*Only me and.... oh God no!* Buffy knew all about his day as a human, their day together. And it had been the demon that had told her first. Cordy had been right about his demon's brutal honesty. Buffy probably hated him now! Hopefully Cordy had explained about... "Cordelia, how do *you* know about that?"

The brunette didn't look at all embarrassed at having spilled her secret. "Doyle felt that I should know. Looks like it was a good thing too, or Buffy might have staked you by now."

"Let me up," he pleaded. "I have to talk to her."

"Is someone going to explain all the vague cryptic-talk?" Anya asked.

"That's up to Angel," Cordelia reached out and began to unhook him from the bed. "I've already said more than my share today."

Angel sat up as the last chain came off, swinging his legs quickly over one side of the bed, and bounding to his feet.

"Wait!" Willow stopped him before he could get out the door. "We need to talk first."

"I'm sort of in a hurry, Willow." He stood on one foot, then the other. God he needed to get to Buffy *now!* The drive had never been so strong.

"No need to fidget!" Cordelia quipped. "Buffy's not going anywhere."

The red head nodded. "You need to know what you can and can't do now that the rules have changed. Tara and I did some...well...predictions, calculations, whatever you want to call them... magically while figuring out the spell. And the change in your soul should mean some other changes."

"Other changes besides the end of the happiness clause?" Angel turned around, giving the witches his full attention at last. "Like what?"

Tara looked at an old notebook. "As far as we can tell, the longer the demon is permanently locked up, the less power it will exert over the physical body."

"Meaning, you're still technically dead," Willow continued. "But not as limited dead. Things like, over time you should be able to maybe go out on cloudy days and not go poof. At least not immediately. Or you might be able to eat things other than blood and actually have them taste semi-normal and be...well, actually beneficial. And who knows what else might happen."

Food. Sunlight. Sure it was only a maybe, but it was better than the * never* he had become used to hearing. Even if he hadn't received his redemption, he still had more of a chance than before. "Can I...can I go now?" he asked the women who had him surrounded with their stares, even without blocking his path to the door.

Cordelia laughed. "You have our permission. Buffy's waiting downstairs."

*****

Angel ran down the stairs, not sure if he wanted to shout, whisper, or if he might not just take off and fly. He felt dizzy with freedom, anticipation, yet held down by the tiny voice in his head that murmured that Buffy may never forgive him for the words from Angelus' mouth. He stopped at the bottom, not really sure how to proceed. Peering around the corner of the stairs, walking slowly toward the kitchen, he could see her through the open back door.

The sun had set while he'd been...demonic. It's last indirect rays brushed the blackening sky in the distance. Crickets were singing in the back yard. Buffy was seated on the edge of the porch, her tiny form hunched over in her come-near-me-and-I-may-have-to-tear-you-apart position. The Slayer was thinking, and obviously not about anything that made her particularly happy.

Quietly, he slipped up behind her, stopping at the door. "Lovely evening." The words sounded trite and formal, even as they came out. Angel winced.

Buffy didn't turn around, or comment on his choice of an opening line. "You were human, with a soul, and me, and everything we ever wanted. But you gave it all up."

Angel moved forward and sat down beside her, not daring to meet her face. Instead, he looked down at his hands. "The Oracles said you would die. I couldn't do that to you."

"I know all the details. Cordelia was very thorough." The ice in the Slayer's tone wasn't promising. It was nothing like the hot tempered outbreaks he was used to dealing with from her.

Angel knew what she wanted to her, but he also knew what he needed to say. "I won't apologize for my decisions, Buffy. There was no way I was going to let anything happen to you just so I could be happy."

"But what about–"

"Let me finish," he cut her off as gently as he could. She glared at him, but said nothing more. "But I was wrong not to ask you before I did it. And I was wrong not to tell you before now. I've wanted to ever since I came to Sunnydale. I just always thought I would have more time to tell you."

"Well, Angelus told me first. At least he was honest about it."

Angel tried to pull up the demonic memory of the conversation that had occurred while his soul was out-to-lunch. He could if he tried hard enough, and slowly, his words returned to him. "Cordelia once told me that at least Angelus was honest with people. She was right. I'm not very good about being open. But you know that what he said.... I don't think of it that way at all. What we shared was amazing, and I'll never forget it." Even though, as he had known she would, Buffy had.

When she finally met his eyes, hers were wet with brimming tears. "I wish I could remember. I have dreams, sometimes. Of you and me, in your bed, doing all the things Angelus described. But they're brighter, and clearer than any of my memories, and yet softer than dreams. I thought I must be crazy to dream of you, or that perhaps it was my mind overlaying you and Riley in the twisted way dreams mix and match things."

"You're not crazy." Angel didn't dare touch her yet. She looked as though if he made one false move, one wrong word, she would bolt. "I am. For not at least telling you the truth when I told you about my possible redemption."

"Angel..." Buffy paused. The silence dragged out as he waiting for her to say what she was going to...anything at all. "Do you want me?"

Not do you *love* me, but *want.* Angel wasn't sure exactly how to respond to that. He loved her with all his heart, and all that his now permanent soul could possibly hold. Want. He wanted her too, with an animal lust that growled within him, not all demon, but very much that of a man's need for woman. The savage part of him that wanted to rip her clothes off and mate with her like a pair of wild horses, and yet also wanted to take her gently and couple with the fiery passion, yet gentle carefulness, of their first meeting.

But that wasn't the want she meant. Did he want her 24/7, with her slaying and her school work, and her children, and her not-too- supportive-of-him mother. Did he want her hot temper, sometime immature selfishness, occasional desperate neediness… Of course he did. He wanted everything that made her Buffy. "Yes," he said with honesty. "I want you. Exactly as you are."

Angel hadn't been sure what response he expected, but what he got was definitely *not* it. Buffy didn't even look at him. Instead, she stood, and walked slowly back into the house. Shutting the door firmly behind her. *Did I say something wrong?* Maybe Buffy didn't want him. Even when she said she'd like to still have him around. Perhaps she just wanted a friend, and he had scared her off permanently with his admission.

He never did *anything* right! *Great, I'm brooding again.* The night was young, perhaps there were still things lurking that needed a good stake. Time to clear his mind, and to let Buffy clear hers. And then maybe a drink at Willie's, if a little killing didn't help his mood.

*****

Joyce barely made it out of the way before Buffy stormed past her through the doorway to the kitchen. The bags of groceries tipped precariously, as the elder Summers sensed something seriously negative about her daughter. "Buffy, is everything all right?"

"Sure Mom," she didn't even look back, but swept up the stairs, "Just hormones," and was gone.

*That was more than just hormones,* Joyce set down the bag and began putting things away. She had seen that particular glint in Buffy's eye before. It meant boy trouble. Or, more specifically, Angel trouble. Even when Buffy had been pissed off at Riley she had never had that exact expression of flustered fury. Needless to say, she wasn't particularly pleased to see that expression once again on her child's face. The vampire had been nothing but emotional trouble, even now, when he was nothing but helpful. It was up to Buffy to make her final decision about him, and Joyce knew couldn't interfere this time.

"Would you like some help?"

She turned, and found Tara standing in the doorway. "I'd love some. What have you been up to all afternoon?"

The shy witch looked at her for a moment like she was nuts, then did a most unexpected thing… she laughed. "We never told you?"

"Told me what?" Something was definitely up. Something that everyone except her was apparently in on… as usual.

Tara placed the vegetables in the fridge. "We did a spell this afternoon. Angel is…. He can't lose his soul… ever again."

Joyce almost dropped the bagels.

*****

Buffy stepped out of the shower, her body steaming in the heat, and wrapped a towel around her body. She had been too tired to do more than a basic wash earlier, but the battle and fighting on top of the confusion in her mind, had driven her to the one place where *no one* would dare interrupt her.

The water had helped to relax her stiffened muscles, though it did nothing to alleviate the pain of milk swollen breasts, or rinse away the remaining extra weight from her pregnancy. Neither had it cleared her mind of a certain Irish vampire.

Slipping into her most comfortable set of sweatpants and a loose button down house-shirt, Buffy peeked out the bathroom door. From downstairs, she could hear the clink of silverware and plates, and the murmur of voices. The smell of meatloaf and French bread pervaded the air. Dinner. Something she really wasn't in the mood for at the moment. Instead of heading downstairs, she slipped quietly along the hallway and into her mother's bedroom, where the twins had been sleeping most of the day.

Amber and Liam were awake when she peered into their pen, and staring at her almost expectantly.

Buffy smiled. "It's dinnertime for you, isn't it?" Quickly arranging the pillows on the bed for a comfortable backrest, she carefully took both infants in her arms, and snuggled down into her nest, unbuttoning her shirt so that they could eat. It was quiet, and she silently thanked her friends for leaving her alone. The rumble of Angel's voice was noticeably absent from the hum below, and while she wondered where he had gone off to, right now just being alone with the babies was all she really wanted. For a moment, she could pretend her life was normal. Just a mother and her children. Not the Slayer and her DNA-switched, unplanned for, yet remarkable twins whose original father was dead, and the new one her even deader, yet still around somewhere, and somewhat demonic ex…something. She didn't even know what Angel was to her anymore!

The peaceful mood shattered, Buffy waiting for Liam and Amber to finish eating. After this, she knew she would have nothing but sympathy for cows, goats, and other commercially used milk-givers ever again. At least they were too small to have teeth.

Amber finished first, as usual, and Buffy precariously burped her over one shoulder while Liam finished. She had just settled both infants beside her for their post-meal sleep, when there was a knock on the door.

"Go away, Angel!" She did *not* want to talk him now.

The door squeaked open. "Sorry, he's not here at the moment," Willow grinned as she entered. In her hands she held two bowls, spoons, and an entire bucket of cookie-dough-fudge-mint-chip. "I had the feeling you needed a friend, and a good rant."

Perhaps that was just what she needed. Someone who would sympathize, but might also have a different view of the situation… and lots of ice cream. Buffy took the bowl Willow had heaped with sugary goodness and ate a few bites. "You're the best best friend I could ever have."

Willow smiled. "Actually, the ice cream was your mother's idea."

"You know what I mean!" Buffy swung a pillow at her, careful not to roll on her half-sleeping children. The pillow missed, and her mood sobered. "What do I do, Will? He didn't tell me… he *never* tells me these things. I always find out in some horrible way, and it's like the world is conspiring to make *my* life as twisted as possible."

"You *are* the Slayer," Willow said. "Twisted comes with the territory."

"But do vampires with souls?" she asked. She had to know. She was tired of *not* knowing. "I mean, sure he's got a soul now. I have kids, we could spend *days* romping like a pair of crazed weasels and he'd never go all Angelus again…."

"But?"

"But what about everything else?" Buffy sagged back into the pillows. "He's never happy with what he has. Now he'll find something else to brood about, to keep us apart over. He *gave up* our happiness so I could live without him. He never even asked if I *wanted* to live without him!" She stuffed her spoon back into her mouth before she started yelling any louder. Stupid vampire. Stupid soul.

"What did he say to make you so mad?" Willow sat on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting.

Buffy frowned. "He wants me."

"I thought this was the *good* thing. Right?" The witch looked confused.

"He wants me exactly the way I am," Buffy nodded. "Riley never wanted that. But if Angel *really* wanted it, why did he keep leaving? What's so wrong with me?"

"Maybe he thinks you think there's something wrong with *him,*" Willow suggested softly.

"Why would I think that?" Buffy growled. "He's strong, and caring, and sexy, and…. And he keeps leaving me!" Her eyes felt hot and stinging. * Great, now I'm going to cry.*

Willow's arms encircled her in a best-friend hug as she sobbed. "It's okay, Buffy. I think he knows that you don't trust him to stay around. So he doesn't want to stay if he makes you miserable, but he doesn't want to leave and prove you right."

The Slayer blew her nose on a tissue. "Why do you have to be so logical?"

"Because otherwise we'd be sitting up here eating ice cream and getting nothing accomplished," Willow replied glibly. "It's so obvious that he's still in love with you. But you've kind of put him in a hard spot."

Her first though was to deny that accusation, to argue that it was all Angel's fault for leaving in the first place. But she couldn't. Beneath the part of her that wanted to wallow in self pity until every bite of ice cream was gone from the house and rant and scream and throw a fit, there was the part that knew Willow was right. Her doubts were just as much to blame as his for their situation. He couldn't leave without making her feel bad, and her doubts made her sure that he would leave anyway. It sure felt like a lose/lose situation. "You're right, Will." Her head was starting to hurt from all these deep thinking soul searching stuff. She's been so shallow, not even realizing that Angel must be feeling the same way she was, right down to the self-obsessed brooding. *What the hell am I supposed to do now?*

Willow looked at her knowingly. "I can see this is going to be more than a two-bowl night."

*****

Floating. Soft whiteness gleaming. Heaven….

Morning.

Buffy groaned and shoved her head back under the pile of pillows on her mother's bed. *Morning bad.* Her stomach ached from ice cream over- consumption, her head from lack of appropriate sleep. Men were definitely more trouble than she had ever asked for. Willow had finally left the room around three in the morning, tucking the twins into their own blankets as she went, and her mother had simply taken Buffy's room instead of disturbing her.

Her Senses began to work even through the pillow. More kitchen noise. The smell of pancakes. More talking, but fewer voices. Mom, Willow, Tara… Angel. He had vanished for hours last night. Where had he gone? What had he been thinking? She hadn't exactly been very forthcoming with her own feelings. It had been the guilt trip *after* her realization that had taken most of the night to talk through. But if Angel really wanted to stay, he was going to have to tell her himself, in no uncertain terms.

There was a timid knock at the door. Rolling over, Buffy knocked the empty ice cream container off the bed as she peered out from under the pillows. It stopped by the door. "Who is it?"

"Buffy," his voice sounded nervous, like when they had first started dating. "Can I come in?"

*What a great way to start the morning.* Buffy sighed. "Leave all dairy products at the door."

Angel entered, not smiling. He closed the door behind him. "This is all my fault, isn't it?"

*What?* "How do you figure that?"

The vampire smiled slightly from his position half way between the door and the bed. "I upset you."

"And so you figure that it's your fault I have a stomach ache." Buffy couldn't help but smile just a little. "Why are you really here, Angel?"

He finally came forward and stood by the end of the bed. She motioned him to sit. He sat. "I did a lot of thinking last night. I went out after you left me on the porch, thought maybe something could use a good staking. I found nothing, and ended up at Willie's. I thought maybe I could get some frustrations out the old fashioned way." "Feeling particularly Irish last night?" Buffy asked, trying to do something to break the tension in the room. Where the *hell* was he going with this?

Angel shook his head. "I wasn't half way through a glass when it hit me."

"An epiphany?"

"No, the glass. This demon hit me from behind, and I hit the glass with my head." Angel mimed a bit with his hands as he spoke. His way of gesturing was actually rather cute. "So I chased him outside and down a few blocks `til I lost him in the late evening crowds downtown. That's when I saw the signs."

Buffy sat up in bed. "Signs, like from the Powers?"

This time Angel did grin. "No. Christmas signs. It's Christmas, Buffy."

Christmas? How had she missed *that* this year. She'd entirely forgotten in the whole mess with the demons,/babies,/ex-boyfriends mess. "I…. And what made you come back?"

Angel smiled. "I remembered snow. I remembered being thankful for having you every day we were together, and the day I took back. I thought about what it meant. How a holiday I hadn't felt the right to celebrate in over 200 years might apply to me. It's about sacrifice…. and redemption."

Buffy had never thought of it that way. Her own thoughts on Christmas had been rather limited to Santa Claus and mistletoe since her becoming aware of demons, and the Powers That Be. From the perspective of Angel's situation, that made perfect sense. "But what—"

"Let me finish." He leaned over and took her hand. "We've sacrificed everything over and over again for the world, and while I haven't sacrificed enough to earn my redemption, I think its about time I let you have the happiness you really deserve."

*Oh God, he's leaving again.*

"Buffy," he paused, more unnerved than she had ever seen him. "I *do* want you. I want to be with you when you're the Slayer, and a college student, and a mother, and a friend…. When you're happy, sad, angry, grouchy, hormonal…."

"You can stop listing adjectives now," she cut him off gently. "What are you trying to say?" He stopped again. "I don't want to leave you. I just…. Can we try again?"

He didn't want to leave? He didn't want to leave! Thank the PTB for not-so-small miracles. But Buffy had to be sure. Her heart had ached thanks to him for years. Enough was enough. "Let me see if I've got this right. You want me even when I'm covered with blood, spit up, pencil shavings…. the whole ten yards?"

"The saying is nine yards."

"I'm the Slayer. You're a vampire. Don't correct me."

"Yes, ma'am."

She could feel a smile creeping onto her lips. "Even on mornings when I've had too much ice cream and I *know* it's going to go right to my waist… where everything else is at the moment… and—"

His mouth on hers shushed her abruptly, flooding her with a sudden warmth of emotion she hadn't felt since… well, since the day she couldn't remember… but since he had left the first time. All the pain, lust, happiness, anguish…. and yet the kiss was soft, barely more than a brush of the lips, and it was done.

Buffy stared into his eyes as he leaned over her. He looked scared, almost helpless. Perhaps he was. He was waiting for something. From her or him, she couldn't be sure.

Finally, he spoke. "Buffy Summers… would you like to go out on a date sometime?"

************************

14/14

"Buffy, aren't you ready to go *yet?*" Angel asked through the bathroom door.

"Just a moment!" came the same answer he'd been getting for twenty

minutes.

With a sigh as over-dramatic as he could make it – just to be sure

Buffy heard – the vampire turned away and went over the to couch, where

the twins were already in their carriers and ready to go. "Your mother is incorrigible," he told them, scooping Amber up and lifting her high into the air, while she squealed in delight. "Even today of all days she can't be on time."

"I heard that!" shouted the bathroom door.

Angel laughed and put his daughter back down and waited. The apartment

was already almost empty for the day. Tara and Willow were out casting

spells in the woods all weekend, and Anya was working at her new job at the magic shop which, as hard as it was to believe, Giles had bought just after New Year's. Cordelia was at rehearsal for the University's spring production of Les Miserables.

"So how do I look?"

Angel turned around and grinned, pulling her into his arms. Buffy's

curves felt so good under his hands, warm and supple. Her petite frame solid and strong, yet gentle and yielding when she wanted to be held close. Soft golden curls framing that deceptively angelic face. A few short months of training and slaying had put her right back in fighting form. Though not without some changes which Angel happened to find rather appealing, like the slightly wider set of her hips, the fullness of her breasts, still larger than before from months of feeding.

Angel had never had sex with a woman who'd been a mother... he just

hoped he'd get the chance to do so in the near future. Their dating for the

last few months had been just that – dating. Going to movies and dinner. Holding hands. Spending evenings snuggled on the couch in front of the television. Taking the twins out on cloudy days, and long evening walks on the beach. They did a lot of talking, too. More than ever before. That had been the hard part at first, talking. Being open did not come naturally to Angel, but he had tried, and it definitely paid off.

"Well, are you going to answer me or not?" His love chuckled lightly.

"We're wasting our day alone."

"I'll bet no one could tell you had twins six months ago," he replied

honestly. "You look sensational."

"Sensational?" Buffy stretched up and kissed him briefly. "I like that."

"Mmmm, me too," Angel purred into her ear, wishing fervently that they

hadn't agreed to take things slowly…. though only for a moment. "Lunch is packed. Ready to go?"

"Absolutely," Buffy smiled and picked up her purse. "Oh, I left my

sunglasses by the sink, could you—"

"Consider it done," Angel kissed her cheek and slipped into the kitchen. As he reached out to pick them up, something flashed briefly out of the corner of his vision. *Being clever today are we?* He spun around—and stopped. Buffy was seated on the couch, cleaning drool off Liam's chin. *Must be paranoid this morning.* He picked up the glasses and left the kitchen. Maybe they'd picked up a ghost somewhere. Or maybe he was just being silly. Whatever the case, he wasn't going to let his plans be altered by a moment of confusion.

*****

The day was bright and sunny, with a warm breeze that teased Angel's

hair as it passed on its way to where ever it felt like going. Days like this had been few and far between this spring, as southern California had been plagued by an unusually extended period of winter rain. The mid-May sunshine seemed to be making up for all the days that it had been upstaged by clouds.

The vampire couldn't have been happier the day he discovered he could go outside in direct sunlight. He'd been sitting in the shade of a tree in the park near the apartment, reading a book on a nice cloudy March day, and hadn't noticed the weather clearing until it was far too late. Angel would have happily waited for the sun to vanish behind a cloud again, or even go down, except that his plan was ruined by a sudden gust of wind that send a four year old girl tumbling into the man-made ornamental lake. His protective instincts kicking in, Angel was already handing the child to her hysterical mother before he realized the import of the moment in relation to his own state. Cordelia had arrived minutes later having had a vision of Angel steaming in sunlight… only to find him happily chatting with the girl's mother in a sunny patch of grass.

Since then his taste buds had begun to change as well. Foods that he remembered so fondly from the day that had never happened began to taste right again. He was now living only halfway on blood, and half on a regular human diet of plant and animal products and the requisite junk foods.

"Eyes on the road," Buffy broke him from his reverie. "Just because you'll live through a crash doesn't mean the rest of us will."

Angel reached out and took her hand, intertwining her slender fingers in his. "Would I risk you, or them?" he asked, nodding slightly toward the back seat.

Buffy smiled. "I know you wouldn't. Enjoying the sun aren't you." It wasn't a question. "You *are* starting to look a little less….. dead. Oh, you know what I mean!"

She thought she might have hurt him. Angel laughed softly. "Yes I do, and thank you."

Over the last hill the Pacific Ocean fanned out before them, a sheet of turquoise in the midday sun. The sand shimmered like flecks of golden flame chipped from the glowing orb itself. Angel had purposefully avoided the public beach, wanting their outing to be quiet, and private. When he proposed, everything had to be perfect.

Perhaps that was what had been making him so jittery today. The flashes out of the corners of his eyes had continued during the entire ride out of Sunnydale. There seemed to be no logical rhyme or reason to their appearance, but they refused to leave him alone. Of course, if he was travelling in the car and it was following him, it probably wasn't a ghost.

Or perhaps he just needed to get his eyes checked.

Buffy sat beside him, totally oblivious to his plan to make her his permanently. The last five months had made him even more positive that he wanted her, not just now, but forever. Angel could no longer believe he had once thought leaving her was best. Then he had never dared dream that they would be together again, and he not-quite human, but not fully demon either. Now… he dared.

Buffy changed out of her t-shirt and shorts while Angel laid out lunch and set up the beach blankets and the umbrella to keep the twins from getting overly burned. Or him and Buffy for that matter. Especially him. Lunch was sandwiches – tuna for her, beef for him, -- potato salad, oatmeal cookies for dessert, and drinks – peach iced tea and O- positive respectively, with plenty of ice water besides.

Having slathered the infants in baby sun screen, and setting out the food, Angel stripped down to his own swim trunks. Totally unlike his usual wardrobe, they were a deep shade of blue as opposed to black. Every woman in Buffy's apartment had insisted that he could *not* wear black swim trunks to propose on the beach.

Angel absently wondered what the difference was between being seen in public in swim suits, as opposed to walking around in public in his boxers or Buffy in a bra. Then again, some of the women's fashions he'd seen in the last decade seemed to be that and just about nothing else anyway.

When Buffy came out from behind the sheltering cliff, his eyes almost fell out of his head.

Her swim suit was a diffused lavender, seeming touched by pink or sky blue depending on the angle with which the sun hit her. Even more appealing was the fact that it was a tastefully cut bikini. Her hair was swept up in a careless ponytail, baring her neck from delicate ears to sculpted shoulders. The Claddagh hung from a thin chain, glinting just between her breasts.

Angel covered his infant son's eyes, and grinned, openly letting his own wander slowly over his girlfriend's body, and hoping she didn't kill him for doing so. "Sorry, kid. You're not old enough."

"And my daughter is?" Buffy asked, though in a – thankfully -- playful manner.

"She might as well get her mother's fashion sense while she's young," he quipped back, fully aware of her own inspection of *him.* He could feel his abdominal muscles constricting, even as his mind told him to relax.

Buffy laughed. "Relax, you passed. Are you aware of just how sexy you are in that?"

"You mean almost entirely naked?"

Her grin turned almost feral. "Exactly." Buffy came forward and sat down beside him on the blanket. "Now let me put some lotion on you before you start crisping."

Buffy took her time rubbing the lotion into his skin, and Angel basked in the selfish joy he felt at having her all to himself, as well as the firm and tempting play of her hands across his back and shoulders. There was definitely a very fine line between pleasure and torture… and it was quickly blurring.

Angel opened his eyes when Buffy's hands stopped moving. "What is it?"

"Over there," Buffy pointed over his head. "What is that thing?"

Across the large expansive of low-tide exposed sand, nearer the rocky cliff faces than the shore, one of the sea shells appeared to be walking toward them. Angel's enhanced vision easily picked out the creature. "I think it's a hermit crab."

Buffy stood and darted across the hot sand, hopping lightly to avoid scalding her feet, then clambering across the rocky shore beyond. Angel watched her make her way to the creature, crouch, and stop. Several minutes passed, with Buffy moving no more than a foot or two. Finally she glanced over her shoulder and motioned to him excitedly.

Gathering the twins in his arms, Angel followed Buffy's trail of sand- hops across the beach. "What has you so hypnotized?" he asked as he came up behind her. Then he saw it. A tide pool had formed in a small cleft in the rocks, and it was full of sea life: a star fish, several crabs, a few strands of algae, and a school of small fish.

Amber squirmed, and Angel lowered her just enough so that her little fingers could brush the water. She giggled. "Fi-fi."

Buffy smiled. "That's right. Fishy." She gently removed one of the starfish from the rock wall. "This is a starfish."

Liam took one look at the creature and started screaming.

"Oops. Bad idea," Buffy laughed and bent down to return the creature to its home. "Oh my God!" Her mouth fell open, and she stared into the pool.

"What?" Angel bent over again. He didn't see anything unusual. Below the wavering reflections of sky, cliffs, and bodies were the same fish, sea weed, and rocks that he had seen just moments before. "I don't see anything."

"You didn't notice it?" Buffy regained her voice. "Angel, what do you see?"

Sighing, the vampire looked again. "Fish. Rocks. Water. Green stuff." He paused and looked up again. Buffy looked as though she thought he was crazy. Maybe he was. Or maybe she was playing some twisted prank. "The sky, the twins, you, me, the clouds, the cliffs. What am I supposed to be looking for?!"

"You're reflecting you idiot!" Buffy jumped up and shoved his head down toward the water. "There. *Look!*"

Angel had to clutch tightly to avoid dropping his offspring. The flashes out of the corner of his eyes all day made sense now. He'd been seeing *himself!* It was surreal, like he was dreaming, or drugged. He hadn't seen himself since that one brief day of humanity, and then only briefly. He'd been preoccupied with… other things, at the time. Not enough time to look at every line, every detail. His artistic side traced the dimensions of his face, torso, stomach, legs….

"Oh great, now I'm going to have a vain boyfriend for the next three hundred years," Buffy gently removed the twins from his arms. "So, what do you think?"

*I'm supposed to be capable of speech?* That was asking an awful lot of a guy who hadn't looked himself in the eye in centuries. "I think…. I think you look even more stunning in my arms than I realized."

Much to his amazement, Buffy blushed slightly. Not something she did particularly often. "Thank you."

Angel smiled, and looked at himself again. He looked pretty good when he smiled! No wonder Cordelia complained about his brooding. He didn't try vamping out. That wasn't something Angel was quite ready to see yet, and he'd seen enough vampires to have a pretty good idea anyway. Besides, that would ruin the mood… and he had plans. "Let's go back."

Buffy looked a bit puzzled. "Aren't you happy?"

"I'm… flabbergasted," Angel replied, picking his word carefully. "It's wonderful, just startling."

Angel and Buffy walked back across the beach in relative silence, each lost in thoughts the other could only guess. The tide had turned, and had begun coming in, causing the beach to slowly vanish.

After lunch they splashed lazily in the ocean. It wasn't really the day for a water fight, and they didn't want to get too far from Amber and Liam. Then, dripping and tired, they returned to the blankets to warm up.

Buffy took down her hair and began to go through it with a comb in long, smooth strokes, occasionally punctuated by an "Owww!"

Angel slipped behind her and took the come. "Let me, love." Carefully he pulled the teeth through her long mane, gently working out the knots as it tried, until it was smooth and dry and soft again, save the remaining bits of salt. Buffy leaned back into his strokes, sighing in a way that Angel could only describe as sensual. "How does that feel?"

"Wonderful," she purred. "It's like a massage."

*Massage eh?* That sounded good. After another minute, Angel set down the comb, and reached his hands for her coveted flesh, working firmly along her shoulders and down her back. Returning the favor she had done him earlier that day. *We'll see how you like it.* Any minute now things would be perfect.

The sun dipped lower, sinking slowly toward the sea until they almost touched. The clouds began to change colors, peach streaks among the blue. "Buffy."

She looked over her shoulder and smiled. "Angel."

Suddenly his mouth felt dry… metaphorically speaking. What if she said no? What if… *Screw what if… ask already!* He fought with himself. "I…wanted to talk to you about something."

"Me too," she turned around to face him and reached into her bag. Angel wasn't sure what to think as she pulled the chain with the Claddagh out, having removed it before diving into the ocean earlier. She opened the clasp and slid the ring off, presenting to him in the palm of her hand.

Angel stared at it. He'd been right after all. His heart sank. Perhaps things weren't as perfect as he'd assumed them to be. Or maybe— "If you're going to do this right, you have to take it," Buffy stated, still smiling.

Angel was now utterly confused. "What?"

The woman before him laughed. "A ring *is* usually required. Here," she thrust it into his hand. "Now get on your knees."

She knew! All day he'd been doing his best to seem normal and somehow Buffy *still* knew. But then she had always known him better than he thought. Angel clutched the ring for a moment, then complied with her command. He grinned. "Almost five years ago I met you. We tried dating. We tried sex. That… didn't work too well. I went to hell… literally. Then we tried again. I was dumb. I was made human in a freak accident, in a day that no longer exists. Again, I was dumb. Then last Thanksgiving we were given another chance, thanks to another guy and a little shove from the PTB. I'm not going to be dumb this time. Buffy… I ask… beg… plead… for the honor of being your husband."

Buffy's smile had grown throughout his speech, and now she sat…. silently. "Well…. Maybe I should think about it."

"Buffy!" he wailed. He couldn't help it if he sounded undignified.

"Do I actually have to say *yes?*"

"It's traditional." Angel pleaded with his eyes.

The Slayer laughed and through her arms around him. "Then *yes.* You can be my husband, Liam."

Angel blinked. "How did you--"

"Willow told me," Buffy cut him off. "She said you mentioned it that night you got drunk while I was in the hospital."

He only vaguely remembered a good portion of that night. It was very possible. "Will you take this now?"

Buffy held out her hand and he slipped the ring on, heart pointing in. She looked down at it approvingly. "You'd better behave when we get married."

"Behave? Behave!" Angel growled and tackled her, falling forward with

her onto the sand, and pressing his lips to hers in the rush of relieved joy that overtook him. "You're my mate. That means we won't *have* to behave anymore."

"We won't?" Buffy's eyes sparkled. Behind her, the sun hit the water,

bathing everything in a flaming red and orange glow.

"I want my children in your womb," Angel began nibbling her neck, vampiric fangs carefully *not* exposed.

His beloved laughed. "It's a little late for that, don't you think?" Her tone was cool and light, but her expression was warm and thick with

passion.

Angel snarled and pressed their lips together again, fighting the urge

to take her right there in the sand. There would be time for that later. All the time in the world. They might never even be able to really have children together. He *was* still dead after all. But there were always chances. A thousand possibilities. He moved away just long enough to speak. "But next time, *I* want to be the one to put them there."

The End