Part Fifteen

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Buffy knocked softly on the large flaps of the library and peeped in. “Angel?”

Angel broke his attention from the book he’d been reading and gazed up at her, then he rose to his feet.

“Umm…I’m not disturbing you, right?” she inquired.

He put down his book and paced towards her. “You are never disturbing me,” he smiled.

“Oh…” To his surprise, she looked uncharacteristically grave. “Then…good. Because…there are some people out there, and they said you invited them?”

“What people, love?”

“I don’t know, some guys. I didn’t see them. Thomas asked me to call you because he had some urgent things to do or something. Anyway, you want to?…” she motioned with her hand toward the corridor.

Angel took her hand and followed her lead.

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Three people were awaiting for them in the lounge. Two women, and a man. The women’s garments appealed to Buffy right away. In proportion to her taste, they were extremely stylish. Her strong fashion sense hadn’t let her down, no matter what time she was living in. She had actually become acclimatized rather quickly to the style and mode of those days. She had already grown into loving the fancy way people dressed, and especially the women. And to cap it all, Angel would spoil her to no end, buying her different jewelry nearly daily, ones that were frequently shining and sparkling with sapphires, diamonds, and every other kind of precious stone he could find. Other than the jewelry, Buffy had a new gown made for her every few days; each one’s more beautiful than the former one. All he had ever given her was the best, from the very pureness of his heart.

She’d been with Angel for five months now, perhaps even more, and these months were the happiest time she had had in very long. The time she’d spent away from her love had been almost completely forgotten, driven out of her heart and mind as if it were never there, except for maybe sometimes, when she remembered her life ‘before’ in her dreams, it would come up to surface, but all she had to do then was just hold onto him tighter, and he would wrap his arms around her, in his inimitable loving and protective manner, and she would forget all about it once again, while falling back asleep in her lover’s arms. He was there, and he was real. For all she cared, the time she had spent without him could very well be a mere nightmare. As days would be passing by, she’d most likely forget she’d ever lived that life to begin with. No, she would never forget these people. She couldn’t, never. But the fact would always remain that that life, with the exception of her time with Angel, had brought her almost nothing but sorrow. Even some of the time with Angel had resolved with pain, and it had always been what hurt the most. These few months, on the other hand, she had known nothing but unadulterated happiness.

The man stood up as Angel entered the room with Buffy on his arm, and bowed politely, quickly approaching her to kiss her hand.

Buffy only smiled; as she always did when someone greeted her like that, which considering the norm, was more than very often. Besides, she was regarded as a very attractive and desired woman. If she weren’t already taken and of course, in love, she would have loads of beaus. But it was sacred between the men of that time, to never woo someone who belonged to another. It was a nonexistent concord that if someone broke, he would be forced to face the other man in a duel. Not many wanted to risk dueling her fiance, she thought proudly. But again, above all, it was a code of honor. She belonged to him. And a little voice in her heart wouldn’t stop screaming with joy every time this thought crossed her mind. She belonged to him!

Angel recognized the man at once. “Doyle!”

The two men hugged each other as if they were best friends.

“I saw you last time four years ago, I believe. Am I right, Liam?” the man, whose name was Doyle, pointed out. “Did not think the next time I would see you would be for your wedding. A beautiful bride, you have there, old mate, a beauty indeed.” He smiled at Buffy, and she repaid him with a smile. “These ladies by my side are madam Luisa Ormond and Giselle De Conte. They are here from France,” Doyle introduced the two women.

“Of course,” Angel remembered in a sudden realization. Buffy still seemed to be left out. She hadn’t the slightest idea of what was going on, except…that this Doyle person looked exceedingly familiar to her. She could have sworn she had seen him before, and what is more, within an atmosphere very much like this one.

“Forgive my rudeness, please,” Angel spoke to the women, “I was not expecting you to arrive so soon. I only called for you two weeks ago.”

“It is quite alright, sir. We did not expect to be here so soon ourselves,” Luisa replied.

“Yet, I am indeed grateful you have. I shall order to prepare rooms for you at once, and after you shall get settled and rest a bit, we can start concentrating on the aim of your arrival.” Angel rang a bell and a young, neatly dressed, footman walked into the room.

“You wanted something, sir?” he queried.

“Yes. Please prepare three rooms for our guests, Christopher. They will be staying here for a few days.”

Christopher curtsied, “Right away, sir,” and left to carry out his duties.

Buffy finally turned to Angel. “Angel?” she whispered in his ear so that only he could hear her. “Who are these people?”

He grinned. “Sweetheart, I hope you remember that the date we have set for our wedding is soon to arrive. We have less than two months to spare, in fact. Mr. Allan Doyle is a very close friend of mine and I have written to him and asked him to come and help me take care of all the financials and other things the wedding ceremony would require. And of course, enact as my best man. Now, madam Ormond and madam De Conte are very famed fashion designers from France, who I personally transported here to work on your wedding gown. I want you to have the most beautiful there is.”

“Well,” Buffy peered at him awkwardly, a grateful and loving half smile lighting her face, “why didn’t you tell me they were coming?”

“I was expecting them to arrive in at least two weeks from now. After all, they were coming from France. Well, except for Doyle, who I have not seen a very long time after he married, and therefore was not certain he would be coming.”

“I would never miss your wedding, mate,” Doyle cut in, “especially not to a beautiful lass such as your fiancée.”

“You did not forget you have a wife of your own, I hope, Doyle,” Angel suggested lightheartedly.

“How could I ever?” Doyle smiled. “She would not let me.”

“It is very nice to meet you, sir,” Buffy beamed, “may I call you Allan?”

“Call me Doyle, everyone does so. And it is entirely my pleasure to meet you too, my dear lady. I would never think this one here would marry, even after all he has written to me about you, I still could not believe. But now that I see you with my own eyes, I would surely agree you are his true happiness, as he says,” Buffy beamed as he kissed her hand again, “absolutely my pleasure…Buffy? If I may?”

“Of course. There is no need for any kind of formality between us.”

“Indeed, there is none,” he agreed.

“Oh, God,” she gasped. Everyone’s attention turned to her.

“Is something wrong, dear?” Angel asked.

Now she finally remembered. When she had seen this man before…that day she wasn’t so stupidly supposed to remember. The day that had not only never happened, but also now never would. She had seen him only briefly before Cordelia had dragged him out of the office. Doyle. She had only known him as Doyle then. It was the name by which he was called. He had been Angel’s best friend! *In every lifetime,* Buffy beamed inwardly. He must have been a very good friend now too. *But as long as we’re on the subject of souls’ transmigrations…* “Could you please describe your wife to me?” she requested. "If it isn't much trouble?"

Doyle nodded, although didn't see her point. “Of course. She is a pretty lass too, you know, very pretty. A slim figure, long brown hair, high cheekbones, large brown eyes…”

*Oh, boy…* Buffy thought as he went on and on, describing no other than *Cordelia…*

Somehow, Buffy wasn’t that surprised. “Will she…will she be at the wedding too? I would like to meet her sometime. She sounds…familiar.”

“Of course she will be. I think you would be quite fond of her,” Doyle speculated, “I think you two are very much alike. Her name is Cordelia. An odd name, I have to admit, but she is a very wonderful person once you truly know her.”

“Oh, yeah…” she smiled. Inside, she was practically DYING to meet THIS Cordelia. *I wonder who else who’s supposed to be born in two and a half centuries from now, am I gonna find here…*

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After the two French women had excused themselves to their rooms to rest, Buffy, Angel, and Doyle stayed for a very long talk. It was obvious a lot had happened in both Angel’s and Doyle’s lives they had to catch up. Many things they hadn't included in their many exchanged letters. Buffy found out that after falling for the sweet and chaste Cordelia *Cordelia?!*, Doyle had decided to take her as his wife, despite his father’s resistance, because of her being from a lower class, and therefore had been disowned from his father’s will. Although Angel and his family had offered their help, Doyle had decided to go away with his new wife, and try his own luck in making money. It had paid off, alright. Now, his family was extremely wealthy, and it’d been only four years. Buffy also learned that Doyle and Cordelia’s first son was born several months ago, and was named Nicolas. She couldn’t picture Cordelia as a mother, definitely not. But still, the way Doyle talked about her, she sounded almost nothing like the Cordy she remembered. Everything could happen. Even a chaste Cordelia…

Well, Buffy would definitely find out everything soon, because Cordelia was coming tomorrow. She had wanted to first visit her parents, therefore hadn’t arrived with her husband, also to allow him some free time alone with his long-time-not-seen friend.

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After the two old friends had finished filling each other in on their lives, Doyle went up to his room to unpack and rest, and Buffy and Angel were left alone.

“What are your conclusions concerning Doyle?” Angel asked his fiancee.

She beamed. “Very very good. I like him.”

He beamed too. “I must say I am glad, but then again, Doyle has never had trouble charming a woman.”

“Don’t you dare to worry about that,” Buffy leaned forward to gently kiss his smiling lips.

“I was not,” he said after she'd pulled off, “he really is my best friend. We have known each other since we were little children.”

“And long afterwards,” she murmured.

“What do you mean?"

“The ‘best friend’ thingie? Well, it kinda stands in the future too,” she informed, wondering how he’d take it.

He was smiling in amazement. “It is? It is…wonderful. It is rather hard to believe, but…”

“But you like the idea of it.”

“Absolutely.”

“Oh, and…the Cordelia thing?”

“Yes?”

“That’s too.”

“They were married?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say married, but in the future of the future, you could never know how things would turn out eventually. You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I’m here for a reason. I finally know it for sure. I’m here not because of a spell, well, technically, yes, I am, but…I’m here because I’m supposed to be. I think it’s like Doyle and Cordelia. Wherever you are, I am. I think that the reason I came back in time, was because I wasn’t supposed to be in the future in the first place. I mean, in the future you were gone, so here I am, in a place you aren’t.”

He smiled and stroked her cheek. “I know just what you mean.”

Buffy rose to her feet and Angel did too. Abruptly, she winced, and grabbed her stomach, doubling in pain. She would have fallen if Angel hadn't gathered her quickly and carefully in his arms and seated her back on the sofa.

“This was the LAST time I was wearing this stupid corset,” she muttered, breathing deeply, while Angel’s arms stabilized her.

“Honey, if it was that tight for you to wear it, why have you been wearing it at all? I cannot say you really need it...”

She shook her head. “That’s not it.” Buffy inhaled one last deep breath and faced him. She was serious. “It’s a pest also on a regular basis, but that’s not it.”

“What is it, then?” he was earnestly alarmed. “Please, you must tell me what is wrong with you. You have scarred me to death just now. Whatever it is, I am sure you will be alright, but please, tell me. I cannot see you in such pain, mainly not knowing why.”

She waved her hand dismissingly. “That was nothing. I’m sure it’s just the corset. My belly can’t really handle being wringed any longer, I guess. It was just a spasm or something like that. I’ve been having those lately. You know, along with that I can barely keep my food down and all…”

“Buffy, please, what are you trying to say?” By the tone of his voice, it was clear that one more brainteaser would drive him insane.

“I’m not sure…”

“Not sure?”

“Well, if we were in my time, I could be sure, but not now. Now, I can only guess.”

“Guess what, beloved?”

“I think…no, I’m pretty much sure, that…I’m pregnant.”

He let go of her and pulled back. “P…pr…pregnant? You…you mean with…with an actual child? Inside of you? M…my child? Ou…our child?”

“Okay…” she hissed, “can you say, NOT the reaction I’ve been expecting to hear once I told you of this news?” She tried to stand up, but discovered her abdomen still ached and sat back down. “I kinda hoped you’d be A LITTLE happier.”

Angel had come to his senses by then. He embraced her tightly, and kissed her. “Darling, this is wonderful! This is the best news anyone could ever give me. Oh, I love you so much!” he hugged her again. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“You’re not mad?” she asked carefully as he finally released her from his clasp.

“Mad? Sweetheart, I could never be mad at you, especially not when you have just made me the happiest man on earth. Buffy, I love you so much!”

This time, she hugged him back, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love you too,” she whispered inaudibly. “God, I love you,” she clasped him tighter, “I thought you were mad. I thought you didn’t want it…”

Angel drew away, and peered at her. “Why would I ever not want it? Of course, I want it. I want many children. I want to build a home with the only woman I love,” he tenderly cleared her tears with his thumbs.

Buffy smiled. “Me too.”

Angel kissed her forehead. He stood and so did Buffy. Supporting her with his strong arms, he slowly led her up the stairs to her bedroom.

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After tucking her in, he sat by her side, and took her hand in his own. “Are you feeling better now, love?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she smiled, “I guess I just need some rest.”

“How long have you been suspecting it?”

“I’d say for about a month.”

“Well…” he reflected, “it is not that long. I will call for a doctor tomorrow, because I want him to examine you as soon as possible. And I do not want to see you wearing corsets or anything else you might find even slightly uncomfortable. I want you to be careful. Please, love,” he almost pleaded her, “I have heard of too many women who died while giving birth or while expecting, I cannot bear the thought of it happening to you. I cannot bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

Buffy squeezed his hand. “I’ll be okay. It’s just a pregnancy. Women get pregnant every day.”

The concern on his face hadn’t decreased. He looked down. “She is not my real mother, you know,” he whispered, holding her hand tighter, “my father’s widow is not my mother. She has raised me since I can remember myself, but she did not give birth to me. My real mother died when I was born, and afterwards, my father remarried. And then Ilana and Laura were born,” he gazed back at her. “Please promise me I will not lose you. Please, I…I cannot.”

Buffy brought his hand that was holding hers to her lips and granted it a tender kiss. “I give you my word, my love,” she pledged, “you won’t lose me.”

He grinned. Relief washing over his gentle features. “Thank you. I will take good care of you, I promise.” He kissed her hand. “Would you…would you like anything? Tea, perhaps? It will ease the pain…”

“No, it’s gone. It was just cramps. It’s already over, I’m okay,” she smiled, “but, would you stay with me? Not for long, just until I fall asleep. Would you?”

Angel bent forward and tenderly kissed her forehead. “I will stay with you forever.”

Part Sixteen

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Angel was marching nervously outside Buffy’s bedroom, secretly cursing the doctor for not letting him in, and along with that understanding it’s a rule. *A stupid rule!* He wanted to be there! No, he needed to be there! A small part of him couldn’t understand what’d made him so agitated. After all, the only thing that was going on in the room was checking whether Buffy was pregnant or not. A few simple tests that were needed to be made, to know for sure. So why was he so anxious?! It’s not like she’s having the baby NOW.

He abruptly stopped and leaned against the wall. In the past few months, he had discovered so much about himself. Things he never knew were there, and probably would have never found out if it hadn’t been for her. She was everything to him. Everything and beyond. She was his life, he knew it indisputably. If anything happened to her…well, what was the point in living without your life? It was most likely what he was so terrified from, what he had always been terrified from. His life, she, they were one.

Angel had a fixation. A fixation he hated, but according to which impregnating would kill her. Why wouldn’t it? Was she any different from every other woman who had died due to that? YES! She was different! She was his, his Buffy! But in the eyes of God, was she different? No...

In this point, he wasn’t even sure he wanted this child. He didn’t want children at all, if their cost was her life. In that specific moment, Angel felt she was the first genuine thing in his life he dubbed as too precious to lose.

And there was the part of him that did want children, that wanted lots of children, with her. A part that told him he was concerned in vain, that it’d be alright. A part he so stupidly didn’t want to listen to…

When the door finally opened, Angel started.

“You may enter now,” the doctor said, smiling.

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Angel hurried past him into the room.

Buffy was sitting on the bed, also smiling. Angel felt his heart melt, seeing her like that. “Is everything alright?” he queried.

“Well, unless I was wrong while examining the lady, she is certainly expecting a child,” the physician confirmed, “in fact, if I am not mistaken, she is currently in her second month. I believe it is a congratulations to you both.”

“It is,” Angel beamed and seated by his fiancée, “but is she alright?”

“Absolutely. I would suggest more rest, of course, healthier food. You must not forget she is eating for the baby as well. Also, I recommend to moderate any superfluous efforts and strains. There might be vomiting, naturally, mainly in the morning, but they are expected to be over in a month. With the exception of that, well…I would say she is a very healthy young woman. I do not forecast any danger at all.”

“Thank you.” Angel put his arm around Buffy’s shoulders. “I will look after her.”

“Do that.” The doctor gathered his bag and coat and headed towards the door. “If you encounter any complications, inform me of them, but I doubt you will.”

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“Are you sure you are alright?” Angel turned to Buffy after the doctor had left.

She beamed. “You've just heard a professional answering that question.”

“I want to hear you.”

“I’m great. Swell. Really. You know, even though you’re extremely cute when you’re worried about me, but you’re still worried for nothing. Honestly.”

He cupped her cheek. “I only want you to be alright.”

“Listen. I get it that the statistics of women dying in childbirth…these days, are kinda high. You have already mentioned this…about a dozen times, but let me tell you something. Statistics and me NEVER go hand in hand. It’s a law of nature. Really.” She took his hand and pulled him out of the room. “Come on, I’m dying to meet Cordelia.”

“How did you know she was already here?” he asked in wonder.

Buffy smiled. “Are you kidding? I’d recognize that voice everywhere! But I gotta tell you this, the Irish accent doesn’t really go with it.”

Angel laughed.

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Buffy forestalled a gasp of incredulity as she and Angel reached the head of the stairs and received a full view of the drawing room downstairs. Angel stopped to look at her, unmistakably sensing her astonishment.

There she was. Right before her eyes, and yet, if Buffy didn’t see the so palpable similitude to her future friend, she would never believe this person was really and truly Cordelia. Her stylishness, and her prominence screamed ‘Cordelia’, but together with that, this Cordelia had the grace and the gentleness so evident in all of her aspects, Buffy needed to be blind to let it pass. As expected, her exterior was flawless. Her brown hair was neatly gathered up into a knot, adorned with silky ribbons, her dress was a watery lilac, tasteful, and elegant, gracefully exposing her slender womanly shoulders. Her skin was much paler than how Buffy remembered, and it added a gentle feminine touch to her eighteenth-century look. And furthermore, Cordelia was cuddling a baby in her lap, smiling lovingly at him together with her husband. Motherhood and tenderness were radiating from the person who so resembled the former, usually snooty, cheerleader. Yet, it was Cordelia. It definitely was Cordelia.

“Cordelia?” Buffy’s voice sounded in the room as she and Angel were approaching the couple.

The brunette stood up, still holding her son, and smiled. “Buffy, if I am not mistaken? It is very nice to finally meet you. Liam made you sound like a dream in his letters. I am looking forward to knowing you better.” She held out the infant in her arms. “This is my son, Nicolas.”

Buffy offered her arms. “May I?”

Cordelia grinned and passed the child to Buffy. ”Of course.”

Buffy smiled at the sleeping baby. The idea that in less than a year, she would be holding her own was still something to get used to.

She looked at her lover and he smiled at her, obviously sharing her current thoughts. He adored the way she looked with a baby in her arms. In his eyes, it was perfect.

Buffy granted him an endorsing beam, wordlessly consenting for him to impart their news to their friends.

Angel smiled thankfully at her. He was eagerly awaiting to inform them. He knew they would never judge him, Buffy, or the unborn child, for a pre-marriage pregnancy, they would just be happy for them.

He placed one arm around Buffy’s shoulders. “Cordelia, Doyle, we have news for you.”

“Well, tell us then,” Cordelia implored impatiently.

“Buffy and I are…we are expecting our first child.”

“Already?” Doyle exclaimed. “You do not waste time, do you, mate?” He walked over to the couple and bowed to kiss Buffy’s hand. “My most sincere congratulations to the mother to be…and what she has so foolishly chosen to marry,” he grinned at his friend.

Cordelia hugged them both happily. “I am extremely happy for the two of you! Motherhood will do you wonders, you will see,” she told Buffy, “it is the most wonderful thing in the world,” she cradled her little son.

Doyle put one arm around his wife. “Well, what are you planning to do next?”

“The first thing we’re gonna do is predate the wedding, at least for a month,” Buffy said.

Angel looked at her questioningly.

“Honey, I wanna be able to fit into my dress,” she explained.

He beamed and kissed her on the cheek. “You will look wonderful any way.”

“Maybe, but I don’t want to receive loving looks like your mother’s from everyone invited once they will see my belly,” she smirked.

“I support the lass in her choice, mate,” Doyle concurred, “she is right.”

“She is, Liam,” Cordelia said thoughtfully, “you must marry earlier.”

“Well,” Angel smiled impishly, “in this case, may I suggest an idea?”

“Listening,” Buffy returned him an equivalent grin.

“What is your opinion about Christmas?”

Buffy was winded. “You’re serious? You wanna get married on Christmas?”

“Well, it is almost a month earlier than our original date. I see no reason why not. I think it is the perfect day for a celebration. Do you not?”

Buffy hugged him enthusiastically, stunning both Cordelia and Doyle. “I love it!” she cried out. “Angel, it will be great!”

He chortled. “I thought you would agree.”

“I love you,” she kissed him, stunning their audience again.

When Angel kissed her back, Cordelia only exchanged discomfited glimpses with her husband.

Part Seventeen

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Cordelia and Buffy had become very close, and had been spending a lot of time together in the past month. Maybe the future Cordelia and Buffy would have never found anything in common, but theses two had found almost everything in common. Cordelia had turned out to be an uniquely beautiful person, inside and out. Buffy and she had become best friends within days. Cordelia had turned to be a very generous and kind person. In fact, her qualities were the exact ones Buffy had NEVER expected to find in the May-Queen-to-be. Besides that, Cordelia was also a living and breathing reminder to Buffy’s other friends. In a point, Buffy had even started to think that if there was a Cordelia, maybe there also were Willow, Xander, Giles… It could happen, couldn’t it? Maybe one day she would even meet them. She had wondered many times, if Cordelia was the ultimate converse of her future self, how much would her other friends change? Or maybe they wouldn’t at all?

Well, in any case, all Buffy could do about it was to wonder. She could never really know. Not until she faced these people, whoever they now were, face to face. And it wasn’t like she was going to go in for an extensive worldwide search after people who did not exist, or weren’t yet born. It would truly be ridiculous. Perhaps, it proved she wasn’t that eager to find out. If she were meant to meet them, she would, it was only a matter of time. If she weren’t…well, so she weren’t. Anyway, she had Cordelia. And though Buffy would never believe she’d actually come to think so, she was very happy she had Cordelia. They were each other’s best friend. Just as Buffy dug up the unconventional side of Cordelia, the subtle brunette brought to light the hidden grace of a lady in the former Slayer. The two girls became quickly almost inseparable, spending with each other almost every minute they weren’t spending with their mates. It was no surprise at all once Buffy had announced Cordelia would be her maid of honor. Doyle was repetitively wondering how come these two had become friends so quickly, but Angel knew why. He could never tell Doyle, of course, because his friend would think him to be crazy. Whatever the reason was though, the man was just as happy as Angel that the two women they loved most got along so well.

Buffy was in the end of her third month now. The next day after the pregnancy had been confirmed, Angel brought about ten tailors to make her an entirely new wardrobe for her pregnancy period, all to make sure she was wearing the best and the most comfortable clothes. Her pregnancy could barely show. Not because it hadn’t been there, it'd been very much visible without her dresses, but Cordelia had taken charge on Buffy’s new wardrobe sewing, and as someone with a past experience in covering up a bulging belly, had given out strict orders how to make the dresses so that the swell would be almost indistinguishable. Cordelia'd known that even for a married pregnant woman, it was indecent to walk around with her pregnancy showed to everyone who wished to see, and she'd had no hesitations whatsoever informing Buffy of it, seeing her friend hadn’t been entirely accustomed to the norms of their society, since coming from a foreign country and all. Buffy had never told her of the truth. She'd had no wish at all to drive the poor girl mad, and with Cordelia’s tender nature, she most likely would instigate just that.

Except for the increasing amount of dresses, Angel was spoiling Buffy in every way possible, starting with roses in bed, and up to fulfilling her most ridicules desires, such as an ice cream in the middle of the night…an ice cream, she usually did no longer want when he brought it to her, because the hour it took to make the ice cream, was more than enough for a pregnant woman to change her mind.

But Angel didn’t mind. He loved doing things for her, as ridicules as they were, and Doyle had promised him they would be getting even more ridicules with time, and he should know. After all, he had gone through the same.

Angel loved the way she would smile before opening her eyes in the morning, perceiving the delicious scent of the breakfast he would bring her to bed, with a different flower each time. She would never get tired of the things he did, just as he would never get tired of doing things for her. He watched over her all the time, being there as soon as he sensed she needed the smallest of things. Buffy used to tease him for that all the time, but he knew she loved it, and he loved it when she loved it. He loved it when she was happy. Angel had promised her he would take good care of her, and he was never even a little close to breaking this promise. He treated her like a queen. She was the love of his life, and who was carrying his child. How could he ever treat her any other way?

Needless to point that their wedding day was the happiest day of their lives. Angel’s idea of getting married on Christmas was the best idea ever. From the moment it had started, this day had been one to remember, one neither of them would ever forget.

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Buffy woke up into a dream. The moment she opened her eyes, she saw white heavy snow falling outside. It had already formed a mound on the windowsill. Buffy loved the snow. It was magical. Since that Christmas morning, that was now never to happen, it had signified hope for her. Hope, and Christmas miracles. Having the snow as the first thing she saw once she woke up, already told her this day would be nothing but perfect.

Buffy gazed about the room. It was bedecked with red berries, pine, and holly, allover the walls, and everywhere else it could be hanged or put. Various Christmas decorations, in every shape and color, interlaced in the green. Buffy couldn't wait to see the enormous tree downstairs. *It must be splendid,* she smiled to herself.

She, Angel, Doyle and Cordelia had decorated almost the entire house themselves yesterday, and it was the first time she took a good look at their work. Buffy peered at the burning fireplace, adorned with mistletoe and greenery, with a crystal angel standing on top. The sound of the cracking logs she hadn’t taken in before, suddenly filled the entire room, and she smiled at it, wrapping her comforter around herself even though she wasn’t cold, it gave her a feeling of coziness that was just too perfect. Her gaze wandered back to the window, where she noticed for the first time the beautiful wintry ornamentations on the glass, crafted by the frost outside. It really was just too perfect, and still, something was missing. Something she needed so that this perfection would be truly whole…

“You awake, my love?” Now, nothing was missing.

She turned to the owner of her beloved voice and beamed. She couldn’t have a better morning even if she dreamt about it. In fact, if she dreamt about a better morning, it would probably be the dream.

Seeing her wide beam, Angel smiled too, and walked in, closing the door. As expected, he was holding a food tray in his one hand, which’s outlines were also decked with holly, and a bouquet of newly picked white roses in another. Though Buffy knew he was growing all sorts of flowers in his glasshouse, she could never understand what he was doing to them that made them grow so magnificent in the middle of the winter.

Angel sat on the edge of her bed, putting the tray on the nightstand, and the flowers in one of the vases, that was miraculously not occupied with others.

Buffy didn’t wait anymore to pull him into an impassioned good morning kiss. He cravingly enclosed his arms around his lover, pressing his weight against hers on the bed. After the kiss had ended, he reluctantly pulled off. “Good morning, darling,” he greeted with a beam.

“Morning, honey,” she smiled.

Angel sat straight on the bed and restlessly clasped her hand. “Can you believe we are marrying in…in a few hours? You will become my wife in a few short hours, can you believe it?”

Buffy completely shared his excitement. “In three hours and twenty five minutes exactly,” she chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck and smiling. “Hard to believe, ha lover? Before you notice, you’re stuck with me forever.”

He snaked his arms around her waist. “I could not ask for more,” he beamed.

“Me neither,” she whispered, before meeting his lips in a kiss.

Buffy drew back first. “So,” she asked curiously, “what do I have for breakfast today?”

Angel laughed and pulled away, carefully picking up a large beaker, overflowed with steaming hot chocolate, with cream on top. “I made it myself,” he said complacently, handing her the mug and awaiting for her estimation.

Buffy sipped at the cream, and he smiled at the white moustache left on her upper lip. “Yummy!” was her ruling.

“You like it?”

“I love it,” she kissed him, leaving a white rim on his lip too, “but never as much as I love the one who made it for me.”

Angel passed her an outsized chocolate cupcake on a plate. “Now, have this.”

“You’ll turn me into a cow,” she complained playfully.

“But what a beautiful cow would that be…” he leaned forward to kiss her.

“Stop it!” she laughed, pushing him away with her free hand. “I’m gonna spill the chocolate!”

“I will make you another one tomorrow…” he mumbled under his breath as his mouth passionately kissed a trail down to her breasts.

“Since when have you become such an animal?” she giggled, keeping him back. “Restrain yourself, mister,” she commanded in a lightheartedly stern tone, “after the wedding, I will let you do things to me you haven’t even dared to dream about, but now…if you want to see me at that altar today, you’ll get out right now, send Cordelia here and let me get ready.”

He obeyed smiling and stood up. “I am no longer here.”

“I still see you!” she teased as he was heading towards the door.

Angel blew her a last kiss before shutting the door after him.

Buffy smiled to herself and sipped from her chocolate again, the warm liquid running down her throat. *God, I love this man!* she thought happily. *I can’t wait to be with him forever!*

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After ten minutes, Buffy heard a knock on her door.

"Come in!"

Cordelia walked in. She was holding Buffy’s wedding dress in her one hand, and her own bride’s maid’s gown in the other. “How is the bride this morning?” she inquired cheerfully.

Buffy beamed. “Perfect.”

“When do you want me to call for your lady’s maid to help you dress?”

“Ummm…you know, speaking of which, I don’t…technically have one.”

Cordelia was astounded. “But you must! How do you dress, then?”

“The old fashioned way,” Buffy grinned, “by myself.”

“Oh, this is the first time I hear of such a thing. Every lady has a lady’s maid. I do not know what I would be doing without someone looking after my wardrobe, my jewelry, helping me dress, make up…”

“We are from two very different worlds, Cordelia,” Buffy smiled.

“Indeed, we are. Well,” she now spoke with excitement, “if you only knew what is happening downstairs! The whole mansion looks splendid! Everyone is so busy decorating every spot in it! There are Christmas adornments, wedding decorations; there is not an empty place in the entire house! It is truly incredible, Buffy! I have not seen anything like it even in my own wedding! Oh, and the variety of foods…”

“Cordelia,” Buffy said softly, “if you don't stop talking now, I will never be there in time to see it all.”

“Oh. You are absolutely right!” Cordelia beamed. “Come, I will turn you into the most beautiful bride the world has ever seen!”

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Cordelia had been right. The mansion looked incredible. Walls, banisters, pictures’ frames, sculptures, furniture, everything was decked with green holly, red berries, and other streamers. Everything was interweaved with white ribbons, and white flowers, that were spreading a superb aroma all about the hall. A red carpet was rolled down the enormous stairs, with white rose petals allover it. The whole place looked like in a dream.

There were more guests than Buffy was able to count. She remembered some of the faces from previous encounters, but most of them were new to her. She could recognize Cecile, Leonora, and Clara with their husbands, Caitlin with her family, Caroline and Elizabeth, and all the other friends she had made on that night at the ballet and on many nights after, when Angel had taken her out. She was happy to see all of them. She could also spot Laura amid the crowd, but she did not see Angel’s mother. It wasn’t such a surprise, though. She wasn’t even sure she was that sad about her absence. She hadn’t exchanged more than a few sentences with that woman anyway, before she had moved out of the house, claiming she would not allow someone like Buffy take away her station and respect. Since her will hadn't been exactly considered, she'd said she would not remain under the same roof with her. After that, Angel had simply made it clear that Buffy would NOT be the one to leave. It was end of story.

But Buffy wasn’t going to let his mother, or her absence, ruin their perfect day. She wasn’t going to let anything or anyone ruin it. It was, after all, their wedding day. No other was that sacred and special in her eyes. And she knew Angel felt the exact same way.

Buffy was a beautiful bride. She wasn’t beautiful, she was simply stunning. Her gorgeous blonde hair was brushed until it practically sparkled, its golden tresses cascading down her upright back. She had all of her hair entwined with festoons of little white flowers, which fell from a delicate tiara, made from the same flowers by Angel himself.

Her dress was of white silk and velvet, white laces and strips falling in graceful bows from her waist. The dress cut deep in both the back and the front, showing off Buffy’s refined shoulders and collarbones. A gorgeous sparkling diamonds’ necklace Angel had bought her a few days earlier, and matching earrings, added the final touch. In her hands, she was holding a garland of white roses.

Cordelia and Ilana were standing beside her, their dresses were almost like Buffy’s, only cerulean, and of course, less fancy. They too were holding white roses. Both smiling adoringly at the bride, expecting for her signal. The same smile crossed the faces of all the people downstairs, who were excitedly waiting for the bride to come down.

Finally, Buffy nodded at the two young women at her sides. It was their cue to begin. Ilana was the first to start walking down the stairway. Cordelia was right behind her. After the two of them had reached the bottom of the stairs, everyone’s eyes turned to the bride, as she slowly ambled down as well.

The minute she treaded on the last step, the guests’ throng divided into two, revealing another red carpet, which led to where Buffy could clearly see Angel awaiting for her, together with Doyle and a priest.

With music playing in the background, and white petals landing on them from every possible direction, Ilana and Cordelia walked down the isle, with Buffy in tow. She had to struggle to inhibit the tears of happiness that formed in her eyes, as they met the smiling eyes of her love, gazing at her only, in such awe and love she had never seen before, even in him. Buffy had never been that happy. When she was standing facing Angel, and he gently took her hands in his, her heart and soul promised her only one thing, as she saw the reflection of them in the eyes she loved so much: This was how her life was going to be from now on. Pure and complete happiness.

Since there was no father of hers to give her away, Buffy was known as an orphan, because otherwise she would not be allowed into proper marriage. She couldn’t be, without her father’s consent. But still, since a proper ceremony required a father’s figure, Thomas had been chosen by both of them to give away the bride.

Buffy couldn’t understand much of what the priest was saying, because most of it was spoken in ancient Gaelic, but anyway, neither she, nor Angel were listening to it. Their eyes were fixed on each other. Love and happiness were evident in their orbs.

When it was time to exchange the rings, Doyle came forward, giving Angel the two Claddaghs. While the vicar was saying a prayer, Angel slid the ring on Buffy’s wedding ring finger. Then it was her turn, and she did the same to him. They joined hands again, and gazed lovingly at one another. The vicar wrapped a white silky band around their united hands, saying another prayer, and then finally came the words they both were anxiously awaiting to hear.

The world faded for both of them as Angel leaned forward to kiss his bride.

Part Eighteen

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Buffy had been dozing on one of the garden’s swings, enjoying the cool breeze on her face. It was so peaceful there, so pastoral…she should have gotten used to it by now, but she just couldn’t.

All of a sudden, someone joined her. At first, it was the new yet familiar scent in the air, then someone sat beside her on the swing, then she felt a tender kiss on her exposed nape, then on her neck, and then another one, and one more…until she opened her eyes.

“Somehow, I knew it would draw your attention,” he said in a seductive low voice, wrapping his arms around her.

“Don’t you have something more important to do?” she asked sardonically, although she was glad to see him.

Angel put his head on her shoulder, puling her closer to him. “Please, do not be angry with me,” he appealed.

Buffy sighed, running her fingers abstractly through his brown hair, leaning her own head on his. “I’m not. I’m just…well, I have barely seen you for two days.”

“I know,” he admitted sadly, “do not think I enjoy this.”

She straightened up and he let go of her. “You left early in the morning yesterday, and I didn’t see you the whole day. What was so important?” She knew she was sounding childish, but at that point, she didn’t care.

“Nothing can ever be more important than devoting my time to you." He gently caressed her bulging belly. "But I own many holdings, love. I need to watch over everything that comes about on each one, I must make sure everything would work properly. These are my duties. All my life I have been prepared for it. I understand it is taking a lot of my time, but I am sorry.” The tone of his voice almost bordered pleading for forgiveness.

Buffy clasped his hand. “I’m sorry I’m being a baby. I mean, I understand you have other things…”

He shook his head determinately. “You are not…”

“I just don’t wanna wind up like all those others society wives, whose job is to play pretty and shut up whenever their husbands do something they don't like.”

Angel smiled. “My love, you would never be that, not even if you tried,” he stroked her cheek gently. “And moreover, I would never want my wife to be so…empty. It is one of the so many reasons why I love you so much. Because you are not a mere empty doll. You are a person, and you never afraid to show that to anyone. I never meant to make you feel neglected.”

She grinned. “I know. Could you just…could you make some time maybe?”

Angel kissed her cheek. “I think I would better do something else.”

She looked slightly crestfallen. “You would? What?"

“I think…I will employ someone.”

She stared at him with misapprehension.

“I will hire someone to do everything that I do. I have the money, why not to use it profitably? Mainly if it allows me to spend more time with my love…” he kissed her, smiling.

Buffy beamed with exhilaration. “Really? You’ll do that?”

He nodded. “I shall set an interview for tomorrow, as soon as possible. I have been contemplating over it for a spell now. I have spoken to some men who are suitable for implementing these chores. It will not take long until I will be completely free.”

Buffy hugged him “I can’t wait!”

“Nor can I,” he beamed, “I wish to make up for all the times I have not been there for you. I know I should have. Especially now, when you are pregnant, I must be taking care of you.”

“Honey, with all the respect, but I sincerely doubt you can take care of me any more than you already do. I don’t know why I freaked. I mean, so you took some time to do your things. No biggie,” she grinned shyly. “Can I blame it on the hormones?”

He chuckled. “Buffy, you do not need to blame it on anything. I understand. I really do. And I want to make it up to you.”

“Well…” Buffy pondered, “if you insist like that…”

Angel smiled. “I see you have thought of something.”

“I certainly have. Remember those picnic plans we made about a week ago, but then it didn’t work out?”

“Yes.”

“Well, so you think it might work out today?” she inquired optimistically.

Angel’s face suddenly became serious.

“What?” Buffy asked him.

“Beloved, are you certain you are strong enough? I must remind you that the reason our former plans have not come to pass was because you were feeling ill.”

“I’m okay now. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Buffy, you fainted.”

“And your point being?”

Angel took a deep breath, concentrating on his wife. “Do you have any idea what was going through my head when I found you lying on the floor in our room? I thought I was going mad. To be exact, I did not know what to think that moment. I was too scared to call for the doctor to come, Ilana had to do it for me. All I could do was to put you in bed and pray to God nothing was wrong with my wife or our child. I truly do not desire to experience it again.”

Buffy touched his cheek gently and smiled. “And after I woke up, and the doctor came, what did he say?”

Angel looked down. “That I had no reason to be worried, and that when a woman is pregnant, her body tends to weaken due to the load of the unborn. And that your losing conciseness was highly anticipated,” he replied in a voice that said ‘see, I tell you exactly what you want to hear, so now it's time for you to turn it against me.’ But then his voice was grave again. “Sweetheart, you are already in an excessive hazard. I refuse to add more.”

Buffy grinned, but resolvedly crossed her arms on her chest. “And if I say that I’m fine, it means I’m fine. And I want a picnic with my husband. Now,” she softened, mischievousness sparkled in her large invigorating eyes, “remember what you told me some time after we found out I was pregnant?”

Angel groaned and raised his eyes to the heavens. He knew it was just a matter of time until she would attack him with his own promises.

“What was that? I don’t remember,” she prompted slyly.

Angel had no choice but to give in. “I promised there would be nothing I would deny you.”

Buffy beamed. “Right! See? I just knew it was something like that!” she exclaimed.

Angel laughed. “You are unbelievable.”

“Thank you,” she beamed, “so when do we take off?”

He still had some hope she’d change her mind. He too wanted to have a picnic with her, but he was too concerned for the delicate medical condition she was in, to risk her. “Would you please reconsider?”

But she was typically stubborn. “Would I please not?”

“Alright,” Angel sighed, standing up, and reached his hand to help Buffy stand too, supporting her with his other hand behind her back, while she held to her belly. “I presume we will be able to leave in a half an hour.”

Buffy beamed winningly at her lover.

He could not help but to smile back.

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“And you actually wanted us not to go,” Buffy pouted, chewing on her sandwich. “Know what?” she asked after she finished it. “I’m gonna be a cow, but for the first time, I’m actually too hungry to care.”

Angel stretched out his hand to gently clean some crumbs from the corners of her mouth, smiling. “I will still love you.”

“I know,” Buffy kissed his fingertips, grabbing another sandwich, “that’s why I pig out.” She nibbled at it hungrily.

Angel smiled and returned to his own sandwich.

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After they had finished with the food, Angel took it on himself to put everything back into the basket, while Buffy was watching him, with love and admiration shining in her eyes. It amazed her every time anew just how much she loved him. It had only been a year ago that Buffy had thought she would never again be fortunate enough to have him in her life. She reminisced with a shudder of the time-consuming cold nights she had spent alone in her bed, longing for his embrace in her dreams. She wrapped her arms around herself, when a memory of that lonesome chill swept over her once again for only a moment. She didn’t know what she would do if she was ever forced to go through it again. And that…*What was his name?*…Buffy stopped trying to recall it. Whatever his name was, it didn’t matter anymore. But still, how could she ever be with him? How could she call him her lover? Buffy suddenly felt so shallow. It had just hit her again just how deeply she had truly betrayed Angel by dating him. She couldn’t believe she had actually done that. Buffy could never get out of her mind the wretchedness and barrenness on his gentlest features once she had informed Angel she had loved that other guy. It had been heartbreaking. She had never forgiven it to herself. She couldn’t. When he had requested her to go then, to leave, she felt like a part of her had died. The part of her that was he, it died that moment. That moment, she was sure she’d never see him again.

And now, there he was, right before her eyes. Real. Alive. The sun was shining down on him, and Buffy could even hear his even breathing if she concentrated enough, as he was clearing their dirty dishes. She felt so truly blessed. She felt in heaven. The scene that was now playing before her should have been something she would get used to by now, but no. She hadn’t, and she knew she never would. How could she? After all, it's always hard to get used to your dream becoming your reality. Buffy felt warm tears of utter joy gushing down her face. She just couldn’t stop them. *Damn hormones!*

Angel had a sixth sense whenever it came to do with her. And that sixth sense would kick into action every time he felt something was wrong. He stopped his doing and faced her. Concern showed up on his formerly relaxed face once he peered at Buffy. “Beloved, what is the matter?” he crept up to her. “Why are you crying?”

Buffy sent her hands to her face to wipe the tears, but he stopped her, instead reaching with his thumbs to gently brush them away.

“Beloved, what is wrong?” he asked again.

Buffy moved closer to him and nestled into his open arms, laying her head against his chest. She felt so safe just by doing that. “I've just remembered something.”

“What could it be to upset you so much?” he queried in wonder.

Buffy swallowed. “I remembered of…of then.”

Angel knew what she meant. Every time she used the word ‘then’, she was talking about her past-future life. “Would you want to tell me? I do not want it to be haunting you. I see how it saddens you.”

Buffy beamed, and snuggled deeply into his embrace. “It’s the past, my love. It isn’t important anymore. Not as the present. I don’t wanna dwell in it again."

“But would you not feel better if you told me of it?”

He wanted to find a way to make it easier, and she knew. She also knew he could. “I remembered…I remembered the time when…when you were away. When we were apart. It was just sad memories. And I’m okay now. Just…when you hold me like that, I know it’s not true…and I’m okay.”

Angel strengthened his hug and kissed the top of her head. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” Buffy echoed. Suddenly she quivered.

Angel lightened his grip and moved away to face his wife. Fear of the worst evident on his face, but vanishing at her bright and reassuring beam.

Buffy took his hand and reposed it on her belly. “Do you feel it?”

Angel beamed with awe.

“It’s our baby, my love,” Buffy notified happily, “see how strong it is?”

“It is amazing,” Angel put his other palm on her abdomen, to catch as much of the infant’s kicking as he could, “it is the most amazing thing I have ever encountered,” he whispered.

“I know,” she grinned excitedly.

Angel lay back on the grass and reposed his head on Buffy’s lap, his head touching her swollen abdomen, and enclosed his arms around her waist. “I love you, my little baby,” he whispered to her belly.

Buffy beamed, running her fingers through her husband’s hair.

Part Nineteen

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Buffy stealthily entered the house through one of the back doors, quietly giggling to herself. If Angel caught her in the act, he wouldn’t be too happy, but she still liked the whole sneaking around under his nose thing. In fact, she’d pretty much been doing it on and off for the past month, in the hours of the day Angel was away, even though he was counting on her to follow the doctor’s advice and stay in bed for the last few weeks of her pregnancy. Sometimes, Buffy thought he was just overreacting. He could be so concerned for her occasionally, that he wouldn’t let her do anything by herself. She had never felt suffocated with his attention; she knew he’d never bring her to that condition, because after all, she understood he was merely worried about her well being, nothing less, nothing more. And she perfectly understood it wasn’t the twenty first century anymore, and that pregnant women HERE really were under a constant risk. All he wanted was to keep her safe and sound. But Buffy was a rebel by nature. Whenever she was told to do something, she would ALWAYS do the exact opposite, and who if not Angel had to, of course, learn it the hard way, having to watch her all the time, even if only to make sure she wasn’t slaying vampires behind his back, being nine months pregnant.

Too deep in her thoughts, Buffy bumped into the person before her. When she looked up to see who it was, a perfectly innocent grin spread across her face.

He endeavored to uphold a grave mien, although his eyes were laughing. He was as used to her never listening to him, as he loved it.

Buffy couldn’t help but to giggle at his forged solemnity, with his arms crossed resolutely on his chest, as if awaiting for her to explain what exactly did she think she was doing. “Hello, twenty-four-seven,” she smiled.

Angel was still looking at her. He needed to bite the inside of his mouth not to laugh.

Buffy stood on her tiptoes, and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “Missed me, love?”

“Where have you been?” he finally spoke. To both of their surprises, he managed a serious voice.

“In the gardens,” she said simply, walking past him into the room.

He rotated after her and threw his hands up in defeat. “Buffy, why do you never listen to me?”

She turned on her heel. She saw straightforward disquiet in his features. “Angel, I was out for a few hours. It’s not a big deal,” she paced over to him. “You’re gonna kill yourself one day if you keep that up. You don’t have to check every step I make,” she added softly. Inside, Buffy scolded herself for not listening to him. She should have. Her last contraction was twenty minutes ago.

“I am worried about you.”

“Too much.”

“I love you,” he said faintly.

“Sweetie, I know,” she reached to his cheek and caressed it gently. He took her hand in his. “But I’m okay. I really am.”

“Beloved, the baby is to be born any day now. You should be in bed.”

“I will be,” she grinned, “eventually.”

“Well, are you…are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

“I ammm…awwwww!!!” Buffy’s screech of pain seemed to be echoing all about the mansion. She bent over, right as Angel managed to stabilize her with his free arm. Buffy squashed his other hand so fiercely she almost mashed its bones.

It took her nearly five minutes to fully relax, and when she finally calmed down, she was breathing anxiously, and holding on to her enormous belly with one hand, while leaning on Angel with the other.

He held her firmly, scrutinizing her with concern. “Beloved, what happened?” he inquired. “Buffy?! Are you alright?”

“Make it every minute,” she murmured throatily.

“I do not understand. Make what every minute?”

“They were coming every two or three hours since about midnight, they weren’t that excruciating…I didn’t give it much attention…”

“What, beloved?” He held her even more securely, because her legs had suddenly destabilized underneath her weight.

“The spasms. Then they started every hour, and every twenty minutes, and now every ten or so, becoming more and more painful.”

He was still looking at her with puzzlement, as if not understanding a word she was saying.

“The baby, Angel! It’s coming! NOW!!!” She gripped him again, when another throbbing contraction hit her.

That same moment, Ilana ran into the room, due to hearing Buffy’s scream. She opened her mouth, but before she said anything, Angel instructed her in a commanding voice. “Call the doctor, Ilana! And the midwife! NOW, Ilana!” he yelled, sweeping Buffy up in his arms, and quickly carried her up to her bedroom.

Ilana snapped out of her confusion and hastened to send a messenger to execute her brother’s orders.

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Angel helped Buffy get out of her dress and lie down. He couldn’t even imagine the pain she must be going through. He knew it hadn’t been more than twenty minutes since he had asked Ilana to call for a doctor, but where the Hell was he?! Angel couldn’t bear seeing her in so much pain. His heart was close to stopping every time she winced with labor pains. While his one hand was firmly held in hers, he reached with the other to the pocket of his waistcoat and peered at his golden watch. Three minutes. Now, they were coming every three minutes. He put the watch back into his pocket and looked at Buffy. She was as pale as a ghost. Perspiration was forming allover her body, while her face was grimaced from the pain. She barely seemed to have time to breath between contractions. Her eyes were almost closed when she silently uttered “Angel…” just before she again winced in a twinge.

“I am here,” he gently stroked her face. “It will be alright, my love. It will be alright.” So why couldn’t he help but feeling he was in Hell?

“Oh, God…” he heard her mumble again.

“What? What is it?” he almost panicked.

“Angel, my water broke.”

“Oh…oh, my God!” Now, he panicked. *Where is this doctor?* Just as Angel turned to the door, he entered the room, together with a midwife.

“I will ask you to leave now,” the doctor told Angel firmly.

Angel shook his head, feeling Buffy’s hand clasping his tighter.

“You must leave and allow us to do our work,” the elder man insisted.

“I cannot,” Angel partly knew that eventually he would have to. Men had never been allowed to stay. But he couldn’t leave her…

“Let him stay…” he heard Buffy’s whisper.

“We cannot do it, miss,” the woman answered, when the man, who refused to waste any more time, grabbed Angel’s shoulders and started leading him away from Buffy. Angel’s eyes never left his wife. Hers were closed; the last strength she had left was put into not releasing his hand. But she had no choice, once the gap between them became too extended as he was dragged farther and farther away. Tears started in his eyes as he looked at her one last time. “I love you. Do not ever forget that,” he whispered before the door was slammed in his face.

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Angel scuttled to his own bedroom, their bedroom; his sight almost completely fogged by the blind of tears streaming down his face, and collapsed face down on his bed. He felt like he was dying inside. Dying, in tormenting anguish. He wasn’t able to set his mind straight. Everything seemed to be whirling in his head and he wasn’t able to focus on anything but the heartrending squeals from behind the wall. Angel pressed his palms to his head, trying to muffle her cries, but instead they seemed to be increasing. His entire soul was being tattered to pieces. He had been dreading for eight months from this moment. The moment he’d be too helpless and useless to help, the moment she’d be maybe dying in the next room, and he wouldn’t even be able to be there to hold her hand. Hold her hand…they wouldn’t even let him to hold her hand. Everything he'd ever had and would ever have was within the embodiment of this little woman. The love of his life, the mother of his child…he could only pray she’d stay alive to BE the mother of his child. She was all he ever knew. She gave him love, happiness and understanding, even when he perhaps didn’t deserve any of them. She gave him everything, and in the time she needed him the most, he could give her nothing. Nothing. He hadn’t felt more worthless in his whole life. Angel felt like he let her down. A little voice in his head was repeatedly telling him it was out of his control, but Angel didn’t listen to it. The only thing he knew for sure was that he HAD to be there. If there was one thing he had learned from Buffy, it was that no one could tell him what to do. His life was in his own hands. So, what was he doing here? Angel felt frostiness running all through his body when an appalling deduction crept up to him. Maybe he wasn’t there because he wasn’t capable of watching her dying? Was she really going to die without him being able to do anything about it?

Angel climbed off the bed, and went down on his knees. For the first time in so long he couldn’t remember, Angel raised his teary eyes towards the heavens, crossed…and prayed.

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He didn’t know for how long he'd been in the room, time was the last thing on his mind, but when he finished his prayer to a God he wasn’t sure even existed, Angel suddenly heard nothing. There were no screams anymore, everything was quiet. Too quiet. After about five minutes, just like the screams had been driving him insane then, the terrible silence did it now. He wasn’t able to tolerate this anymore. He didn’t care what they were going to say. Angel launched himself off of the floor and sprung to Buffy’s room.

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The door was ajar, to his surprise. When he reached it, a fear washed over him for a moment, sending tremor down his spine. What would be the thing he’d find once he opened the door and walked in?

He sent a hesitant and shaking hand to the flap, and pushed it open. Angel’s eyes widened in shock when he took in the interior of the room. The doctor was already gone, only the midwife was there, cleaning everything. His panicked eyes saw blood everywhere. Allover the large bed, and allover Buffy. Buffy…she lay on the bed, the white of her nightgown saturated with red, a petite, pallid, and silent figure he could barely recognize. And she was still. Silent…and still. Not moving. Not moving at all.

Angel felt he was becoming weak in his knees, and hanging on the doorframe with both of his hands, he feebly bashed his forehead into it, as the tears washed over him once again, his own sobs muffled by a helpless cry of a newborn.

Part Twenty

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Angel felt a hand on his shoulder, and a concerned voice spoke to him. “Are you alright, sir? Is anything the matter?”

He turned around, facing the aged midwife, avoiding for all he’s worth from letting the bed into his sight.

“Would you care to hold your son?” she asked, and offered the baby to Angel.

He carefully cradled his son in his arms, gazing down at him. He had Buffy’s eyes. He glimpsed at the bed again and immediately turned back to the infant in his arms. His son. The son of him, and the woman he loved. He had already loved this child. He loved him even before he was brought into being, but when he looked at the tiny creature in his arms, the emotions that were running through him were as new to him as if he had never felt them before. Love, pride, devotion…he felt everything and beyond towards this child. He was his flesh and blood. He was his son. Angel met the child’s eyes again. They were staring at him with interest and smile, an innocent curiosity of a child. He reached a small hand and grabbed at his father’s finger. Angel kissed his brow gently. “I love you, son,” he whispered.

“He is a handsome little boy, sir,” the woman said, “a handsome little boy, indeed. May I ask for his name?”

“We have not yet decided on one.”

“Oh, well, forgive me. I did not mean to pry.”

“You did not,” Angel smiled sadly at the woman, finally daring to ask the question. “M…my wife?”

She waved her hand dismissingly. “Oh! She is alright, my Lord! Only resting now, the poor thing. I tell you, sir, after all those years of delivering those children I am so glad I have never given birth to one. Lord knows the pain is just too great. I do not know how those mothers do it. Your petite wife is very strong,” she grinned, “it was a difficult delivery, but she has done well. She is unconscious now, though. Lost her strength, the poor child. I tell you, sir, I do not know how they stand it.”

Angel’s face lit. “She is alright?”

“Of course, she is. She will wake up soon. Tell me, where is your son’s wet nurse? I assumed she would be here by the time he would be born. The boy needs to feed, you know.”

Angel shook his head. “We have not hired one.”

She gaped at him with astonishment. “You have not? But the child…”

“My wife will nurse him. She has chosen so herself,” he assured with a beam. His wife. Angel thanked God she was alright.

“Are you certain, my Lord?” she asked suspiciously. “Perhaps, you misunderstood the Lady.”

Angel smiled. “You do not know my wife,” he glanced over to Buffy, just as she moaned and slowly began to stir.

Angel scooted to the bed, with his son still in his arms, forgetting the other woman had ever existed.

He perched on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in the one that hadn’t been occupied with the child. “Beloved?” he queried, but she didn’t open her eyes. Angel brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “Darling? Can you hear me? How are you?”

“Like Hell,” he heard her weak reply, although her eyes remained closed.

Angel grinned at the so typical way she described the whole situation. “We have a son, my love. You gave birth to a little boy,” he informed her joyfully.

Buffy smiled. “I was there, remember?”

Angel smiled too. “Are you still hurting?” he asked with concern.

“Just wake me when they invent the painkillers,” she bantered.

“I am so sorry you had to go through all this pain.”

“Are you kidding?” Buffy finally opened her eyes and looked at her husband. “I’d do it allover again in no time.”

“You would?”

“You bet, I would,” she beamed at her lover, and reached a hand to touch the baby in his arms. “I’m not gonna lie to you and tell you it was the time of my life, but…Angel, when he finally got out and…and I heard his cry, I just…Angel, I felt it really was heaven. I was so happy, that I even forgot about the pain for a second. Which was, of course, before I passed out,” she added jokingly.

Angel beamed in adoration. She undoubtedly was the most extraordinary person he’d ever met.

“I feel like shit,” she hissed, “sorry for the language,” she added apologetically, “I need a shower.”

“Beloved, you are still too weak,” he objected, “I tell you what, though. I will ask someone to boil the water, and meanwhile I will transfer you to our bed, so you could be in a clean place.”

With that, he cautiously reposed the baby on the bed, and scooped Buffy up in his arms, careful not to shift her too much, in order not to inflict on her any unnecessary smarting.

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When he brought her into his bedroom, he gently reclined her on the clean sheets, and changed her bloody attire with a fresh one.

After retrieving his son from the other room, Angel sat by her side. “Now, you will finally do what I tell you and rest, alright?”

“I doubt it’ll be possible.”

“You are not tired?” he asked with disbelief.

She grinned. “I may be, in fact, I’m pretty beat, but I think someone’s hungry,” she glanced at her son and stretched out her hands to receive him from her husband.

Angel put the infant on her chest and he immediately clutched to one of her breasts, sucking at it hungrily.

“He’s perfect, my love,” she whispered, jadedly closing her eyes, her hand that wasn’t cupping her son’s head, was gently stroking his little back while he fed from her, “he’s just so perfect.”

“I know, love,” Angel leaned over to kiss her crown, and caressed her hair lovingly, “I know.”

Part Twenty-One

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A cry of a baby infiltrated her dream. She didn’t know where it was coming from. Buffy woke up, but still couldn’t figure out the source of the sobs. She went to her son’s room to check on him, but he was fast asleep. When she returned to her bed, she found her husband missing. Then she opened her eyes, realizing that everything that had happened till now was still a dream.

Buffy sighed, gazing about the dark room. Suddenly, her eyes lay on Angel’s side of the bed. He really was gone.

Buffy sat up, grimacing slightly. She gave birth to Daniel only a couple of days ago, and was still sore. Everything that had anything to do with moving around had everything to do with pain. Buffy knew it would take time for her muscles to return to their normal position and for her body to heal, but it didn’t mean she was in any way enjoying it. She wrapped her robe around herself, and paced silently through the corridor to the baby’s room.

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Buffy opened the door inaudibly, and walked in, quickly closing it behind her. It was after all, the middle of the night, and she didn’t want to wake anyone. She beamed blissfully at the perfect picture she discovered there. Fastening her robe around her body, she stalked over to her husband.

Angel was sitting in a large rocking chair, cradling his little son in his arms. While the baby was quietly sucking at his tiny thumb, his father’s head was dropped on his shoulder, as he was slumbering soundly.

Buffy gently ran her fingers through his hair and cupped his cheek. He budged sleepily, and opened his

eyes. “Honey?” he spoke as if he were surprised to find her there.

“What are you doing here?” she questioned, smiling.

Angel peeped at the child in his arms. “He had been crying, so I came to calm him. You were sleeping like a baby, I did not see the need to wake you.” He stood up, to restore Daniel back into his cot. “I believe I fell asleep myself.”

Buffy walked up to him from behind and wrapped her arms around his waist while he was putting their son back to sleep. Angel rotated to face her after he'd finished with Daniel.

“You know what I think?” she inquired.

“What?”

“Would you have anything against having Daniel sleeping in our room?”

Angel grinned. “Would you?”

“No. You know, I think it would be a lot more comfortable for us to have him right there when he cries or anything. And besides, I gotta feed him like…three times a night or so, so wouldn’t it be better if I didn’t have to go all the way to another room whenever he’s hungry?” she peered at his face. “I know what you’re gonna say, that people would gossip that our son sleeps in the same room as we do…well, for that they’re first gonna have to start gossiping about US sleeping in the same room…”

"They already do," he husband grinned matter-of-factly.

Buffy gave him a look. "Okay, so, they do, but..."

Angel silenced her with a kiss.

“Was that your answer?” she asked impishly after he'd pulled away. “Cuz if it was, I’d want you to repeat it for me. You see, I didn’t really understand the first time. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

He beamed. “I think it is a good idea, love. And for all I care, people will always be talking.”

“Oh,” Buffy broke her gaze from his, feigning a disappointment, “and I hoped you were talking about repeating your answer.”

Angel came closer, pulling her into his arms. “I was referring to that too,” he whispered, before kissing her eagerly.

Baby’s sobs tore the silence again. Buffy broke off, just when Angel was doing her neck. “Down, puppy,” she whispered giddily, pressing her palm against his chest.

Angel set her free from his tight clasp, letting her approach Daniel.

Buffy glanced at her lover over her shoulder. “Feeding time,” she explained.

She sat in the rocking chair, holding Daniel in her lap, while he was wholeheartedly sucking his milk.

Angel kneeled beside the chair, putting one arm on its back, rocking it somewhat, and stroking Buffy’s face with his other hand. He delicately kissed the baby’s head. Buffy beamed at him lovingly.

“You do not mind me being here, do you?” he asked. “Because I can leave…”

Buffy put her finger to his lips for him to stop jabbering.

Angel returned her smile, mouthing ‘I love you.’

“I love you,” she said mellifluously.

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Buffy and Angel were sleeping on the sofa in Daniel’s bedroom. Buffy was snugly wrapped in his arms, when she heard a feeble knock on the door.

“Come in,” she mumbled eventually, understanding Angel was obviously still asleep and so wouldn’t answer, although she couldn’t see his face to know for sure because her back was pressed against his chest.

Ilana reddened when she entered the room and found them snuggled together like that. “Oh, I am so sorry!” she whispered. She almost turned to leave, when Buffy motioned for her to stay but be quiet because Angel and Daniel were still sleeping. Ilana did as she'd been asked.

Buffy carefully tried to remove Angel’s arms from around her waist, but he only fastened his hold. She smiled, leaning her head back against his chest and murmuring something, which drew no further reaction from him after a sleepy purr.

Buffy giggled, and turned back to Ilana. “I guess he’s tired,” she said, just as Angel placed his chin in the camber of her neck, strengthening his embrace.

“Perhaps I shall come back later,” Ilana whispered, her flush became lighter at this point, “I have wanted to speak with you, but…it can wait.”

Buffy nodded and Angel’s sister left.

“Sweetie?” Buffy tried to reach her husband again. “Angel?”

He murmured something she wasn’t able to comprehend, but didn’t wake up.

She managed to turn in his arms and kissed him, softly at first, but then more keenly. At long last, he started returning her kiss.

When the kiss ended, he opened his eyes. “Does it mean I must wake up?” he asked, hoping it didn’t.

Buffy put her hand to his forehead solicitously. It wasn’t warm. “Are you sure you’re not sick?” she still asked.

“Merely tired. I do not know why, although.” He nestled back on the sofa after Buffy stood up, intending to go back to sleep. He turned to look at her once more before drowsing off again. “Beloved, do you need me for anything or can I sleep for a little while longer?” he asked.

She smiled. “Sleep. I’d keep you company, but Ilana wanted something. You know, I think that if your sister walks in on us again, she’s gonna be in therapy for the rest of her life, considering the way she reacts to the cuddly ‘us’,” she joked.

Angel chuckled, and closed his eyes, as she covered him lovingly, kissing his forehead. “Sweet dreams,” she whispered before checking on their still sleeping son and coming out into the hallway.

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Ilana was waiting for her outside. Buffy could read it on her face that whatever it was she wanted to share with her, she was very nervous about it. Buffy motioned for Ilana to follow her into her bedroom.

When she closed the door behind them, Buffy faced her, grinning. “What did you want to talk about?”

Ilana looked down. A clear sign she wasn’t going to get to the point anytime soon. “Forgive me for interrupting, I did not mean to disturb my brother and you. I assumed you would be awake by now. It is rather late.”

Buffy shrugged. “First of all, it’s okay. Second, I don’t know, I guess, we were tired. Angel is still sleeping…listen, you haven’t heard about some virus or something going on around here, have you?” Buffy thought it might be a hyperbole, but she felt she had to ask. It wasn’t like Angel to be so weary. Maybe he really was just tired, but she decided she’d feel better if she asked.

“No.”

Buffy felt relief. *He was probably just tired.*

“Why are you asking?”

“No reason. Just out of curiosity, I guess,” she shrugged again. “So, what was it that you wanted?”

“Well,” Ilana seemed agitated.

Buffy tried to read the signs. Yes! She was sure she guessed right! “You met a guy,” she stated.

Ilana turned to her. “I beg your pardon?”

“A man. Of course! Gosh, why didn’t I see that before? What's he like?”

“Who?”

Buffy gave her a look.

Ilana finally conceded defeat. She blushed. It amazed Buffy, though not really. After all, Ilana was about three or four years older than she, and due to her nature, Buffy looked at her as at her YOUNGER sister. “Well, he is such a lovely gentleman, Buffy. I met him roughly a week ago. He is the most charming person I have met until now.”

Buffy beamed. She was happy Ilana had finally met someone suitable for her. “So? What’s the problem? Have you asked him out or something?” When she saw the look on Ilana’s face, she rapidly regretted for saying her last comment. *I keep forgetting it’s the wrong century.* “Okay…have you ever talked to him?”

“Of course, not!” Ilana exclaimed. “What kind of a lady do you think I am? I would never remain alone with a man without my brother!”

*Should have known…* “Okay, so now I’m confused. How can he be so great if you have never even had one decent conversation with him?”

“Well, I assume. From what people have told me, and…well…I have asked about him.” She said the last phrase in a whisper, as if it were the world’s largest crime.

Buffy felt like laughing, but she knew it wouldn’t be fair towards her sister in law. “And?” she urged her to go on.

“Well, what I wanted to ask was…well, you and my brother have something so special. I refer not only to your marriage by that, but to your relationship in general. You are not only married, but you are in love. I do not think you know how rare it is. You are so much in love that no one else exists for either of you. Your devotion is…well, something I wish to have in my marriage. I would like this gentleman to woo me. Do you know how to make him know that…I am interested?”

Buffy couldn’t understand how a twenty-three-year-old woman could be acting like a fifteen-year-old, or even worse. “Ilana, why wouldn’t you ask him yourself? Maybe not ‘ask him’ ask him, but…you can imply or something like that.”

Ilana’s face showed Buffy it was not an option. “No, I could never. I wish…I wish I would meet someone who would look at me as…as my brother looks at you, with so much love in his eyes…the way you look at him. I know I am too old to marry, but perhaps I still have a chance. And I believe that this gentleman could be…all I wish for. But if I do not act…” she stopped for a moment and peered at Buffy, “oh, Buffy, I saw how you do things! I wish I ever had your courage. I wish I were you.”

Buffy shook her head and grinned. “Don’t wish. Trust me, I’m not a great role model. What you need is to be yourself. And take the smartest advise someone had ever given me, though I don’t remember who it was…anyway, the point is – you snooze, you lose. Simple as that. You can play noble for the rest of your life, or you can inform everyone to stick it and do whatever you think is right.”

Buffy noticed Ilana’s face changing again. “Sorry. Bad choice of words,” she smiled innocently, “look, basically what I mean is that you don’t have to live your life according to what everyone else says. It is, after all, YOUR life, not their. And YOU are the one who’s gonna live with the repercussions, so what do you care what they think?” Buffy could see Ilana was thinking about it. It was a pleasant surprise that someone as shy and ingenuous as Ilana chose to reflect on it. “Wanna know something? Here’s something I once told your brother, and now I’m saying it to you. If I were listening to what everybody else was saying, I wouldn’t be with your brother right now. And believe me, your brother is the best thing to ever happen in my life. He IS my life. Do you wanna spend yours without the man who could possibly mean to you as much as Angel means to me, just because you once listened to someone telling you what you could or could not do?”

Ilana was quiet. She was deep in thoughts. One side of her told her that Buffy’s suggestion was absurd, while the other insisted it’s exactly what her situation required. These two sides of her seemed to be in a death match. It was hard to know who would win.

"Okay, I see that's not gonna work," Buffy grinned suddenly. "I got another idea."

"What idea?"

"Can we let your brother in?"

Ilana paled. "Why, certainly not!"

Buffy didn't expect her to react LIKE THAT. "Why not?"

"I cannot tell my brother. He is...well, he is a man."

"And? Since when's that considered a bad thing?"

"I just cannot. If I tell him, he might think I allow myself too much."

"Your brother?!" Buffy eyed her. "Boy, you got so much to learn about him! He'd never think that. You're forgetting he puts up with me," Buffy beamed.

Ilana smiled. She was right. "But still..."

"No, listen. Your main problem is that you're scared from what people are gonna say. Try my motto - when you don't want to obey the law, try to find a way around it, benefiting from what it stands for, if you still don't succeed, try to break it. Now, we don't actually have to break laws, don't worry about that, but bending them...well, let's just say it's another story."

Ilana wondered about Buffy's wide beam. She was clearly skimming something.

"Now, cut to the chase. Why do I want you to tell Angel?"

"Why?"

"Rule number one is, you can't talk to guys alone, but rule number two says that rich women like you throw many parties and have many guests over for dinners. Now, we put the two of them together, and create a rule of our own. You invite your mystery guy for dinner. You won't look bad, cuz as far as others concern, you won't remain with him alone. He's coming...to meet Angel," she waved her hand. "Which leads us to rule number three. You're not supposed to invite him over by yourself cuz it's not considered proper. No big. Tell Angel. If you can't invite him, he can. Now, once he's here for dinner, we all eat, yada yada yada...then Angel and I will leave you two to your business. How does that sound?"

Ilana smiled. She liked that plan. If she carried it out, she'd be doing nothing wrong. "You understand that I must reflect on it."

"Take your time. And really, don't hesitate to tell Angel. He'd only be happy for you. I know him better than anyone and I can give you my word."

The two women turned to the sound of someone else entering the room.

Angel ambled over to the two of them, with his son in his arms, and sat beside Buffy, giving her a gentle kiss on her lips, which Ilana astoundingly overlooked, or just didn’t comment on this time.

“Good morning, Ilana,” he greeted his sister, embracing Buffy after she took the baby from him into her arms.

“Good morning,” Ilana replied. She gazed at the two of them, wondering whether she was ready to give up a chance to be that happy one day just because of what others might say. But she also knew that she still had A LOT to consider before she'd do anything. After all, would it really be so horrible if she spoke to him alone for a few minutes? And still… “Perhaps I will listen to your advice after all, Buffy,” she said, grinning, and stood up. “Excuse me.”

“What was your advice?” Angel asked Buffy after his sister had left.

She laughed. “Something you won’t see your sister doing in your wildest dreams!”

Part Twenty-Two

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Buffy walked over to Angel, who was sitting on a swing in the garden, deeply engrossed into sketching something on the pad he was holding.

“I thought you were supposed to be working,” she bantered accusingly.

He finally became aware of her presence and looked up. “I am,” he smiled, “I only was distracted by something extraordinary beautiful.”

“Beautiful, ha?” she grinned. “Beautiful how?”

“Beyond words. Something that entirely took my mind off work.”

Buffy sat down beside him. “So…what’s that beautiful…you’re drawing!” she exclaimed, once seeing it was coal he was holding in his hand.

“Indeed, I am,” he beamed.

“Oh…sorry, just…I didn’t mean to sound so amazed, it’s just…I forgot you even could. You know, you’ve drawn a picture of me once.”

“I have?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Well, the future you.” Buffy had never forgotten how Angel, while being Angelus, had slunk into her bedroom and made a drawing of her as she'd been sleeping. She had never told this to anyone, but she had kept that drawing ever since.

“When?” he inquired.

“Oh, once,” she waved her hand, “when I was sleeping, you just sat on my bed and drew me.”

“Well,” he showed her his current work, and her eyes widened with incredulity, “is it any better?”

“Oh, my God, Angel!” she traced her fingers over the portrait. “Angel, this is beautiful!”

He only beamed.

“But how could you have drawn a picture of me? I wasn’t even here.”

He touched her cheek gently. “I remember every detail of your face, my love. I have since the first moment I laid eyes on you. Your features are engraved in the very depth of my soul. I do not need to see you in order to draw you.”

She put her palm on his. “Angel, this is so beautiful.” She glanced at the picture again. “Not just the drawing, but…what you’ve just said to me. All of the things you always say to me.” Buffy felt the exact same way about him as he did about her, only he was the one who knew best how to put emotions into words. And every time he would say something to her, it would come out as the most beautiful thing she had ever heard in her life.

“You deserve every single one of them and more.” He kissed her mildly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she kissed him. “You think you could teach me to draw like that?” she asked after they parted.

“Of course,” he smiled, “I never thought you would be interested in it though.”

She shrugged. “I know. I guess it’s not really me, but since I met you, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure I know what is ‘me’ anymore. I think I might like it. Besides,” she looked straightly into his eyes and smiled, “if I know how, I might draw you too.”

He kissed her. “You might. I am sure it will be lovely.”

She laughed. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

Angel put away the pad and concentrated on her. “Are you ready for the ball tonight, dear?”

She looked at him askance. “Are you sure about that whole thing? You know, when I advised Ilana to throw a party, inviting half of the world’s population into our home wasn’t really my idea. I’m not much of a hostess, you know. To be frank with you, I had no idea we had so many friends.”

He smiled. “They are not our friends, beloved. Most of them are people I perhaps met once in my whole life. But we still must invite those people, because they still are the aristocracy we live among. The parties that are being thrown involve the same guests every time, because it is the same circle of people. Have you not noticed?”

She nodded. “I guess. I just…well, I have never thrown a party…that big, and haven’t been to one in like…forever, maybe.”

“Well, love, it was you who did not want to go.”

“Angel, I looked like a balloon,” she reminded him, “I didn’t really feel like going to balls.”

“I understand,” he kissed her forehead.

She inhaled a deep breath. “Why have I ever suggested that idea? I was thinking…you know, small dinner. Don’t know, maybe a few people…I haven’t gotten the first idea about hosting. And, I've just had a baby, I’m not exactly in my best.”

Angel laughed. He loved the way she'd get whenever she was too disturbed with something. The first thing she would always do was starting making excuses why she would NOT do it. “You will do fine, love. And furthermore, we will finally meet Ilana’s courting. Do not worry yourself too much, it will be alright. In any rate, if you feel too tired, we will leave early. I will never coerce you to be there if you are exhausted.”

“And what about the ‘leaving the party in the heart of it’ part? What, we’re just gonna take off and leave our guests?”

“In fact, yes. The ball does not have to end because we are not there. I agree it might be a bit rude to leave, but it will not be the first time for the entertainers to do such a thing. If you had told me before you were so against it, I would have waited.”

“I know. I guess I should have told you. It’s just that it’s only now that I figured it actually IS a big deal. Anyway, never mind. I’ll deal,” she grinned. “Oh, Angel, there is something else!” she turned to fully face him.

“What, love?” he discerned it was something substantial.

“Daniel. Honey, what if he needs his daddy, or his mommy, and we won’t be there? What if he’s hungry, or crying, or…”

He smiled and shushed her with a finger to her lips. “He will be alright. Laura is not yet willing to search for a suitable husband, hence decided not to attend the ball. I asked her not to take her eyes off him. He is in good hands, beloved.”

“Are you sure? Angel, I never left my baby alone before. What if he needs me?”

“Do you not trust Laura?” he inquired with surprise.

“Of course, I do. But you gotta admit that having his aunt there isn’t the same as having his parents.”

“If he needs us, and if Laura finds anything she cannot do by herself, she will call for us at once. I told her so.”

“Okay,” she clasped his hand and stood up, “I guess, since we’ve got that covered now, I might as well go get dressed. I have less than an hour and I haven’t even started yet.”

“Wait,” he mildly pulled her back to sitting and beheld her earnestly.

“What is it, sweetheart?” she asked, not understanding what he was so concerned about. It seemed like something he’d been holding in for a while and only now found the nerves to tell her.

“There is one more thing I must inform you of.”

“What thing? You sound so bothered, what is it?”

“There is one thing you must know about these balls. Something I should have told you first.”

“Would you just tell me now?” she chuckled.

“Alright. Buffy, you know it is not becoming for a young lass to be around men unaccompanied with a family member, do you not?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “stupid, if you ask me.”

“Perhaps. It might sound preposterous to you, but once the woman is married, it changes.”

“Changes how?”

“Well…it is, in fact, very common for a husband and a wife to have lovers. It is currently notably fashionable in the elite. My parents had lovers, for instance. It is not something to be hidden, it is very familiar.”

She contemplated for a moment. “Okay…did I say THAT was stupid?”

“I assumed you shall react so.”

“Why are you telling me about this now?”

“Because I,” he looked down, “well,” he continued, without eyeing her, “do you wish to have lovers? I mean, I would not oppose...well…you have the right, but…I only hope you…I am no fool. I know you are a very appealing and ravishing woman. But…I hoped…you would not want other men.” *I should have not asked. I trust her. Why have I even asked?*

Buffy beamed and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

Angel embraced her, kissing her head. "Forgive me I asked, my love. I should have thought before I acted."

She grinned. "I'm not going to. I take my marriage vows pretty seriously…especially when I have you as my husband," she kissed him. "You don't have anyone else on your mind, do you?" she asked apprehensively when she pulled back after the kiss.

"Never crossed my mind."

Buffy leaned contently into his arms. "I love you," she smiled and embraced him strongly.

"I love you," he whispered, gently stroking her golden hair.

Part Twenty-Three

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"You look gorgeous, my love," Angel complimented his wife and offered her his arm to lead her to their already full ballroom.

"Are you sure?" she inquired skeptically. "I just have this feeling I so haven't lost my extra weight."

"Buffy, you look marvelous. You truly do."

She smiled. "Thank you."

After they had entered the dance hall, she could no longer say one word to him.

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They became each surrounded by different people, and very soon lost each other in the crowd. Buffy was with her friends, while Angel was with his. Angel was right, Buffy noticed it at once. Too many men seemed to be after her this night. Everyone wanted to spend some time alone with her and know her better. She tried to make it as clear as she could to everyone she was NOT interested, but it didn't seem to help. As soon as one was retreating, other was coming instead. Buffy reminisced as once she had found it stupid when she hadn't been allowed to speak to men alone. She suddenly wished for these 'good old days' to return.

Her salvation came from a very unexpected source.

"Excuse me?" a familiar voice asked, as Buffy was trying to get rid of a leech. She turned to the owner of the voice. Ilana. "I hope I am not interrupting."

"Not at all!" Buffy exclaimed, too excitedly, thanking Angel's sister with her gaze. "I hope you don't mind," she said sweetly to the man at her side, "my sister in law and I have to talk."

He nodded and bowed before the two women, and they returned him a polite curtsy.

"Thank you!" Buffy asserted. "You have no idea how much you saved me there!"

Ilana smiled. "Yes, I saw you were not coping with your beaus too well."

"Is it always gonna be like that?" she queried, inside hoping the answer would be 'no'.

Ilana nodded. "Now, that you are married, Buffy…it is the manner. I rarely understand it myself. However, it still is the way things are. I must tell you though, none of these men comprehends why you are turning them all down. They have all assumed you would be interested. You are a very craved for woman, just so you know."

Buffy smirked. "Somehow, one man is enough. I'm married to your brother, remember?"

"Oh, yes, it is because you are married to Liam that only some men are trying to woo you."

"You call that some?!" she hissed. "It seems to me more like every other man in this room!"

"Well, perhaps they would let it go eventually. I would not know. However, I wanted to introduce you to someone. You must come with me. I cannot go alone."

"Okay," Buffy shrugged and followed Ilana.

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They reached a tall man, somewhere in his thirties, neatly dressed, with light sandy hair and gray eyes.

"Are you kidding?" Buffy questioned Ilana quietly. "Another one?"

But the other woman shook her head 'no'.

The man detected the two of them walking up to him and met them halfway. He bowed and kissed Buffy's hand. "The Duchess O'Brien," he greeted her, smiling, "very pleasured to finally meet you, my Lady." He bowed over her hand again. "I am Roger O'Neill, always at your service."

Buffy smiled. "Very nice to meet you, sir." One glance at her sister in law told her he was the man she was so wrapped up in recently. "This is my sister in law," Buffy introduced her.

"Oh, yes, Lady Ilana. My pleasure." Buffy could see Ilana was barely standing on her feet once his lips touched the back of her palm. Something didn't seem right about this man though. Buffy couldn't put her finger on it, but she was certain it was there. She stole a glance at Ilana. *For her sake, I hope the guy's not gonna ditch her.* Buffy knew how fragile by nature Ilana was and she was, of course, worried about her. Suddenly, she brought her hand to her head and grimaced. The headaches returned again. She had been having them frequently when she was only healing after the birth, but she had assumed they were over. She hadn't had one in over three days. Buffy took a deep breath, but it didn't help. She still felt a little groggy. She started to feel as if the walls were crowding her. She needed to get out. She needed Angel. *Where is Angel?…*

Ilana immediately noticed something was wrong. "Buffy?" she put her hand on her arm. "Are you alright?"

Buffy shook her head. "Ilana, I'm going out," she said, "if you see Angel, tell him I'm looking for him. I think I'll be in the gardens. I just need to breathe some fresh air." Without another word she turned and left.

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The night was dark, starless and moonless. The only light was the one coming from the inside through the large flaps that were leading to the gardens. Buffy perched on a settee the second she found one. She had thought the nausea she was feeling would pass once she would be outside, but she had been wrong. It'd lessened only a little. *Why did I have to get this headache now? Man, I should have told Angel before. I should have told him I wasn't up to a party. Why the Hell didn't I?* She found out soon that scolding herself didn't help much either. *And on top of all, I just HAD to lose him in the crowd tonight.* Buffy had a feeling she would be much better if he just sat with her for a while. Of course, she knew he would most likely take her to their room at once if he knew what was happening to her, but at least he would be there…

Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching. She looked up…just to meet Roger's eyes. Somehow, she didn't know how, but she felt worse once seeing him.

"Would you mind if I kept you company?" he asked.

*What is it about this guy that bugs me?* she wondered. "Actually, I'd rather…"

But before she could finish her sentence, he was sitting by her side. She instantly moved as far away as she could. She REALLY didn't want him there.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, his eyes focused on something in the distance.

"Not quite, but thank you," she replied. It came out more frigid than she had intended it to, but he didn't seem to pay attention.

"Are you sure you wish to be sitting here alone?"

"I'm waiting for my husband. He should be here shortly."

"Your husband," he breathed out, while stretching one arm over her shoulders on the back of the pew.

Buffy moved forward a little. Now his arm was ON her shoulders. "Would you remove your arm, please?" she requested, quietly but firmly.

He didn't. Buffy sighed. She really wasn't up to a fight or even a row. She wished Angel were here…

"I would appreciate it very much if you left me be," she asserted.

He didn't. Suddenly, the only thought in Buffy's head was that NOTHING would prevent her from kicking his ass if he didn't stop NOW. *Where is Angel?*

"Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?" he asked slyly.

"My husband. More than once, thank you. Now, would you please leave?" She sounded more and more irritated. "My husband isn't someone you want to get to you."

He stayed. No, he didn't just stay, he…Buffy's whole body shuddered as she felt his kiss on her neck. *Okay, that was it!* "I said, GET OFF ME!" Before he could blink, Roger was thrown to the floor, Buffy's foot pressing firmly against his chest. She was still the Slayer. He had just realized he picked on the wrong woman.

The guests started to fill the outdoors the moment Buffy's shout sounded inside. Soon, they were surrounded with people. Some of them left after they had seen what was going on. Must be a lovers' quarrel, they thought. But most of them stayed.

Buffy gazed around her. Suddenly, her headache returned and she stumbled, but somehow prevented herself from falling. She stepped off of the still stunned Roger and allowed him by that to stand up.

"What is going on here?" she heard the so familiar voice, and soon after, saw Angel paving his way through the throng of people towards her.

All eyes immediately turned to him, awaiting for his reaction. Ilana was right behind him. Her eyes saw exactly what the others' did. Her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped, and ran away, sobbing. Angel glanced after her, but then turned back to his wife. Buffy was pale. She seemed to be barely standing on her feet. He could see something was wrong, he hadn't yet taken notice of the other man's attendance. It wasn't what was momentous now. Something was wrong with his wife. *I should have not forced her to this ball!* was the first thing he thought of. He walked over to her and took her in his arms, leading her to the pew and sitting down. Angel took her hands in one of his and pressed the other to her forehead. She was warm. "Buffy, what happened?" he finally asked.

Buffy looked at him. Suddenly, she felt tears starting in her eyes. *Why the Hell am I crying?!* She couldn't even control her actions, and she hated it.

"Beloved, what is wrong?" he inquired the second time, now, even more concerned because of her tears.

She sniffled. "Honey, can we please leave? You said, if I felt sick or tired…we could leave."

"Of course," he nodded, "but why were you screaming? What happened?" He looked around. The people standing about them wore various faces. Some were casual, some interested, some disappointed. But it was clear to him that none of them had expected him to react the way he had, but to what? Then he saw him. A man was standing a bit away from the rest. He turned back to Buffy with concern. "Who is he?"

"He's…the one Ilana was talking about," she said quietly, her eyes telling him everything her words didn't.

Angel looked at him again, then back at Buffy. "Did he hurt you? Did he do anything to you?"

She shook her head. "No, he just…he tried to…no." She locked eyes with Angel. No, TO HIM she couldn't lie. "Can we just go?"

Angel stood up and paced over to the man. "What is your name?" he asked menacingly.

Roger shivered. This was the LAST thing he had wanted. Nothing was worth that. As far as he was concerned, there wasn't a woman in this world worth dying for. He knew exactly what was coming up next, and Angel's hand resting on the sword dangling from his belt had only confirmed his suspicions. There was going to be a duel. Not just a duel, but one he wasn't going to win. This man was known to be one of the best fencers. No one dared to duel him unless he was forced to, and he had degraded his wife! How stupid was he?! Why had he been willingly walking into the very claws of death? "Roger O'Neill, my Lord," he replied, his voice wavering.

Angel glared fiercely at the man. He despised him. He hated him. At first, he'd played with his sister, then he'd dared to force himself on his wife?! Well, there he had just crossed the line! Angel had been mostly avoiding dueling. He had never had a single reason to doubt his strength or speed, but nevertheless, he'd tried to avoid coming to these situations. There were several causes he would always fight for. Causes such as someone who would disgrace his parents, his sisters, or in this case – his wife. NO ONE would disgrace his wife. He would protect her honor even if it were the last thing he did.

The faces around them gazed at him expectantly, already knowing what was going to happen. Roger was doomed.

Angel pulled his sword out of its scabbard and pointed it at Roger.

Roger inhaled one deep breath and did the same.

Buffy's eyes widened with shock once their two swords crossed. She swallowed hard. "Angel, please," she whispered pleadingly.

He didn't hear her.

"Angel, don't do this," she said loudly. He turned to look at her. "Angel, if I mean anything to you, you won't do this. I beg you, please."

He lowered his sword, and fully rotated to face her.

"Put that sword back," she said.

"I cannot."

"You will. Now."

When she saw he wasn't following her request, she stood up and stamped over to him. "Angel, do as I say. Now. Leave it. It's not worth it."

"It is, beloved," he said softly, and faced Roger again. The sword fight began.

Buffy moved away. Her gaze was shocked, to say the least. Her mouth wide opened, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. *What is he doing? Is he insane?! I can't lose him to this stupidity! What the Hell is he thinking about?* She scanned the other viewers. They were all focused on the two fighting men. Their faces were too numb for her taste. Didn't they care? She felt her heart skipping a beat every time the other man's sword was inches away from her husband. He ducked every time and held the upper hand, but she didn't care. As far as she concerned, every blow could be his last. And they watched it as if it were some sort of a show, an internment. Didn't they care someone was going to die?!

Buffy couldn't hold it in anymore. "Angel, stop it!" she shouted through her tears. Only after she had done it, she realized what a fatal mistake it was. She must have NEVER interfered in the battle. She broke his concentration. As Angel turned to the sound of her voice, Roger used the given opportunity. He swung his sword and shoved it through his opponent's body. Angel moaned, and crumpled to his knees, with the sword sticking out of his back. Buffy emitted a painful gasp and ran to her husband's side.

She examined his wound. He was lucky. On top of all, Roger was a lousy fencer, and Buffy thanked God for that. The position Angel had been in when he had turned to look at Buffy had given Roger a chance to drive the sword through his heart, and instead he'd hit his side, in the lower abdomen. Buffy knew he hadn't done it inadvertently. She had seen the expression in his eyes all through the battle. His only intention had been to survive, he would not think twice before killing his rival. He had missed it though, and injured Angel relatively easily.

"Angel, hold my hand," she charged.

He gripped at her hand feebly and groaned, his entire body quivering a bit.

"Tight, Angel," she said rigidly.

When he fastened his grip, Buffy moved to his side and swiftly pulled the sword out.

Angel screamed, clenching her hand even more. "You could have warned me before you did that," he hissed.

"If I had warned you, it'd have been more painful," she replied calmly. Abruptly, she hugged him tight, and burst into tears. "You stupid! You're so stupid…" she blubbered, "why did you do this? Why, Angel? Do you have any idea…any idea what I'd do if I lost you? Why are you such a jerk?" she kneeled beside him and buried her face in his chest.

Angel wrapped his arms around her. "Shh…" he tried to appease her, "I am alright, beloved. Everything will be alright…"

She only kept sobbing into his chest as he was gently stroking her hair, whispering allaying words in her ear as if she cared to hear them.

"I could kill you myself, do you know that?" she blurted out once she was facing him again. "If I knew you'd be acting like such an idiot, I'd kill you myself. I swear I will, if I ever see you dueling again."

He smiled and kissed the tears from her cheeks. "I love you," he said softly.

"Then what was that for? To make me a widow before I reach my twenty first birthday?"

"Come here," he pulled her back into his loving embrace. She could feel the bleeding from his wound increasing. Angel felt it too. It wasn't that painful after the first shock, but its hemorrhage was more intense.

"Promise me it was the last time, Angel," she murmured against his shirt, "swear to God it was the last time."

He kissed the top of her head and took a deep breath. "I promise." He knew it was an illogical request, and in a way, so did she, but he'd say anything to stop her tears.

Buffy pulled away and only then became aware of everybody's eyes being concentrated on the two of them. It was evidently written on their faces that it was the FIRST time they all had ever seen anything like that. Duels were an everyday routine. Every day two men would be fighting over this and that. Every day one of them would be injured or most likely killed. They had never seen anyone make such a fuss over a duel. Most of them didn't understand Buffy's reaction. What was she so agitated about? Her husband wasn't even dead, he was merely wounded. Why was she reacting so hysterically? She shouldn't have interfered at all. A wife should step aside and let her husband work a whatever matter it was with a duel. And even if her husband was injured or died – well, it was a duel, it was expected. But this wife did none of those. It was strange to them. The emotions being shared between these two, who seemed to have forgotten they weren't alone, were strange to them.

Buffy turned to look at Roger, and all eyes followed hers. She wondered, why weren't they saying anything? How could it be that what this man had done was okay? It was unacceptable, and they were keeping quiet as if nothing had happened. Alright, she didn't want to, but eventually, Buffy could understand the duel and all about it. So, okay, she didn't have to like it, but it was the way these people solved their problems. She would NEVER allow her husband to take part in one again, but it wasn't the point now. What Roger had done could NOT be allowed in any duel. There were at least fifty people who witnessed everything and none of them had yet said a word about it. They couldn't have not seen.

But they had. After a few seconds of silence and glares towards the still standing dueler, the whispering began amid the crowd. "He stabbed him in the back…" was heard over and over again.

Roger looked down from the glowers of everyone present. He knew full well what he had done. It was the only way how he could win. Maybe he'd been thinking when he had done that, maybe he hadn't been, but one thing was sure. The deed was done. There was no way back anymore. He filled with shame. Shame, and humiliation. Then a cognizance came to him. He'd broken a sacred law. It was one of the rules of a fair battle and he'd broken it, by that harming his rival. Only by luck, not killing him. He reflected over what would be worse – the degradation, or the prison, that was surely awaiting for him once the episode of this night would reach the court. His disgrace wasn't the only thing he had to worry about now. Even if none of the congregation told, which was a doubt for itself, even if the Duke himself didn't tell, his wife most certainly would. He could see it in her daggers-shooting glare towards him that she would not let it pass. It seemed to him that if she weren't held so firmly in her husband's arms, however weak he was, he might have not lived to see the prison.

Part Twenty-Four

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Buffy seated Angel on the bed and started unbuttoning his shirt.

He groaned quietly and leaned back on his elbows.

"You want to lie down?" Buffy inquired thoughtfully.

He swallowed, wincing when she carefully severed the bloody fabric from the stab. "I am alright."

"Don't play the hero on me now, Angel." Though her tone was exasperated, her actions were the precise opposite. She touched the wounds cautiously, inspecting them. He was definitely lucky. It was good the fencing swords were relatively lean, it made the wound much smaller than how it would be if it were caused by a regular sword. Buffy shivered at the thought and abruptly removed her hands from the injuries. She recalled the time when she had been the one who stabbed him.

Angel regarded her recoiling.

"Nothing," she shook her head at his questioning gaze, "it doesn't matter." To avoid any further inquisition from him, she quickly stood up and went to light all the candles in the room, until the duskiness was replaced with their tender glow. "You know, at a time like this, the good old electric bulbs would do just fine," she muttered, while lighting the last remaining candle.

Angel didn't say a word. He could recognize it perfectly whenever she was upset with him.

"Don't move," she said, warningly pointing her finger at him, before she closed the door behind her. "I'll be right back."

Angel sighed and lay back on the bed.

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Buffy returned after several minutes. She brought bandages and a bowl of hot water, and placed them on the nightstand near the bed.

"Angel?" she turned to him.

He was lying with his eyes closed, one hand pressing against his side to hinder the continuing bleeding.

Buffy gazed at him for a moment, receiving no response. Then she stretched out her hand and stroked his cheek tenderly with the back of her palm. "Sweetheart?" she asked softly.

He still didn't answer.

She took a deep breath. "Alright, Angel, you can open your eyes now, I'm not mad at you."

He opened his eyes. "Yes, you are."

There was a strained muteness between the two of them for a few minutes, then she smirked. "You bastard, I knew you weren't asleep. Sit up," she wrapped her arms around him and helped him up to a sitting position, "I'll make it quick and then you can rest as much as you want."

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After Buffy had patched him up and bandaged around his waist, he lay back down.

Buffy felt his forehead. "You're not warm," she espied, "it's good. It means it didn't get infected…or so I think…" she pondered.

Angel smiled. There was sadness in that smile. He hated the feeling of distance he had been receiving from his love.

Buffy overlooked that sadness. "Yeah, you keep with that smile," she berated, "have I already told you I could kill you myself? You gave me a heart attack, you moron!" she tried to sound angry. She WAS angry, but her eyes betrayed her. She knew it, which's why she was looking away when she spoke to him. There was love in her eyes. Love and relief that the man she loved was alive. Finally she faced him again. "Angel, I was so scared," she admitted, a single tear slid down her cheek and fell on his thumb.

He stroked her face mildly. "I am sorry, my love."

Buffy took his hand and kissed it. "Why did you do that?" she needed to know.

"There are things I myself cannot explain, beloved, but I had to. Just please, accept it the way it is," he requested softly.

"I can't accept it. Angel, are you crazy? Don't you get it that you could have died?!" she cried. "It's just…only the thought of…of something happening to you…Angel, I can't…" she closed her eyes, feeling the tenderness of his caress on her cheek again. "Promise me. Please, be honest and tell me it won't happen again."

"Buffy, I cannot promise you I will never duel again, you know it."

She nodded and averted her gaze. "Then, could you just…could you tell me that you promise? Like you did before? Please?" she pleaded silently.

Angel squeezed her small hand. "I promise."

She releases her hand from his grip and stood up.

He gazed after her in wonder, but then the wonder turned into chagrin. She was still upset with him. "Are you leaving?"

Buffy turned to him ruefully, but remained soundless.

Angel closed his eyes and, grimacing, rotated on his good side, with his back to her.

She sighed. "I'll stay until you fall asleep."

"You do not have to. I understand," he whispered.

She walked back to the bed and put her hand on his bare shoulder. He impulsively quivered under her touch. "I need to…to think some things through. I'll probably be in my room."

He didn't answer. *It is the first night she will be sleeping in her room since we were married…* He didn't know why, but after that cognizance had come to him, suddenly the mere presence of her in the room caused him pain. "You do not need to stay here," he whispered, without even turning to look at her, "I can fall asleep by myself."

Buffy stood up and after a second he heard the door closing behind her.

"I am sorry, beloved," he murmured.

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Buffy opened the door to Ilana's bedroom and walked in. she found her sitting in a large armchair, gazing longingly out through the window into the gardens. There were still some people traveling amid the trees, the ball wasn't over at all. Ilana turned to look at her guest.

"I'm sorry, I guess I should have knocked," Buffy apologized, "I forgot."

"It is quite alright," Ilana replied quietly, "I have not been expecting visitors though. What was it that you wanted?"

Buffy sat at the armchair opposite to Ilana's. "I wanted to talk to you, to see if you were okay," she was straightforward. She wanted to check on Ilana, but there was also this more selfish part of her that was willing to do everything to take her mind off of the man sleeping in one of the bedrooms down the hall. Daniel was under Laura's care. If she needed anything, she would tell Buffy, and she obviously was fine. Buffy had nothing to occupy her and the last thing she wanted was to go to sleep. Well, it was probably almost the last. The truly last was returning to the ball downstairs…

"I am alright, Buffy. There is no need to worry over me. I was a fool. This is what happens to fools."

"I'm sorry. I know you liked him…a lot. I also…" she wasn't sure of how to go on, "I wanted to say I'm sorry for…for what you saw there. I swear I would never do that. I would never cheat on Angel, and I would never cause you pain purposely. I know it's hard to hear, but it wasn't me. Ilana, it was Roger who…"

"I know," Ilana cut her, "I know. I…it has never crossed my mind you would be unfaithful to my brother. You are so loyal to him, that even someone who does not know you could perceive it was not your fault. You would never do it to my brother, I know. You do not need to acquit yourself. I also know he would never do it to you."

"Thank you," Buffy smiled, "Ilana, please don't be too sad about it. There will be others," she tried to cheer her up.

Ilana shook her head. "There will not be. I am almost twenty-four years old, Buffy, and yet nobody has asked my brother for my hand. Why is it? Is there something wrong with me? Well, there must be. I am too old for someone to marry me. I was a fool to assume Roger would, I should have seen who he truly was, and instead I was blind."

Buffy patted her arm. "Don't eat yourself up over him. He's not worth it. There are so many great men out there who would love to be your husband. I'm sure."

Ilana grinned. "You are trying to make me feel better," she observed.

Buffy smiled. "Is it working?"

"Thank you for taking the time, it was very nice of you. But I will be alright. I am sure Liam is awaiting for you to go to bed. I know you are sharing his bedroom," she made her last comment sound somewhat politically.

Buffy's expression saddened. She looked down.

"Have I said something wrong?" Ilana asked worriedly. "Please, forgive me if…"

"No," Buffy said quietly, "you didn't say anything wrong. It's me."

"What is the matter then?"

Buffy exhaled the air she was holding in her lungs. "I did something, that once I think more about it, was a stupid thing to do. You know, after the duel…"

Ilana's eyes widened. "There was a duel?"

Buffy looked dumbfounded. "Don't you?…I thought you knew."

Ilana shook her head. "Who were fighting?"

"Roger and…and Angel."

Ilana's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, Lord. Is he alright?! Is my brother alright?!"

"He was injured," Buffy replied, "Roger stabbed him in the back."

"Oh, no…" Ilana gasped fearfully.

"No, he's alright. It wasn't that serious, it could have been a lot worse. We're lucky Roger is such a horrible fencer."

"I must see him," Ilana started standing up abruptly but Buffy hindered her, holding at her arm.

"Don't. See him in the morning. He's fine, I assure you. I took care of him and I put him to sleep. He needs his rest now."

"You are right, I presume," Ilana nodded in cognition. "Well, so tell me. What occurred after the duel?"

Buffy looked down. "I was angry. I don't know, maybe I just overreacted, cuz everybody who was there was staring at me like I was some crazy person…" her voice suddenly cracked with tears, "but…Ilana, when I looked at him…God, when I saw him collapse to the floor with that sword sticking from his back, I just…all I could think about was that he was going to die, and I got so scared…" she covered her face with her hands, crying.

Ilana stepped forward to embrace her. "I understand," she said, "I am sure he does to."

Buffy shook Ilana off of her gently. "I was so angry with him, that I made it all his fault. I treated him like…like he didn't deserve to be treated. I should have supported him, and I snapped at him instead. What kind of a wife am I?"

"A concerned wife. A loving wife. I doubt he would react otherwise if it were you who was hurt."

Buffy smiled weakly. "Well, right now, I really don't feel like one. I don't even have it in me to go and tell him I'm sorry."

"I am sure he knows. Buffy, you are the only thing in the world for him; you and your son, now. You are his only love. He would not remain upset with you over a thing such as this. Over ANYTHING, for that matter."

"It's our first fight. It feels so weird," Buffy reflected, "I want so much to wrap myself in his arms now…and there is also something that stops me. I wish it would go away. I love him so much. I…I miss him. I know it sounds strange, but in a way, I do."

"I know you love him, and I tell you, he loves you too. Just as much. You should talk. Tell him of your fears and he will understand. I know it." She paused for a moment, casting down her gaze, then looked back up. "I am jealous of you, you know," she disclosed quietly.

Buffy's head sprang up in consternation. "Of me? Why would you?"

"Of my brother and you, of what you two have, share together. I know it is a sin in the eyes of the Lord, but I envy you. I do not have it…yet, I do want it."

"It's not a sin, Ilana, it's human feelings. And besides, don't be."

"However can I not be? You have everything, all I can ever dream about for myself, and I feel so awful about my jealousy…please, forgive me. I felt I had to confess."

Buffy smiled, wiping her tears away. "You know, there was this one gentleman, who hadn't taken his eyes off you through the entire ball. He's not too old, maybe even younger than Angel. He had black hair, green eyes…"

"You must be talking about Harry Lockwood."

"I might. I have seen him in some events already. I think he likes you."

Ilana beamed and waved her hand dismissingly. "Oh, he cannot. Harry and I know each other since we were little children. He is a second brother to me."

"Oh, is he?" Buffy smiled impishly. "Well, that's even better. You know, I never wrong about these things. You should listen to me about this Harry. I know it when I'm right."

A knock on the door interrupted them. "Enter," Ilana affirmed.

A maid walked in and curtsied. "My Lady…" she spoke to Ilana, "Sir Harold Lockwood wishes to see you. He asks whether the Lady is well. What shall I tell him, ma'am?"

Buffy beamed at Ilana. It screamed 'I told you so'.

"I will go downstairs myself now. Thank you," Ilana replied.

The servant bowed again and left.

"I told you so," Buffy put it into words.

"What shall I do?" Ilana queried nervously.

"Be yourself," Buffy smiled, "and Ilana, don't let 'what's right' ruin it for you. Ask your heart what's right, it holds the best advice you can ever get." She stood up. "Now, you go and see him, and I think I'll go to sleep. It'll be okay, just don't be too tense. You said it yourself, the guy has known you for years." She patted Ilana's shoulder and left.

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Angel heard the door opening quietly into his room and someone walking in. He revolved in his bed to see who it was.

"Ilana," he sounded slightly disgruntled.

"I wanted to see if you were alright."

"I am," he turned away from her.

"You were expecting Buffy," she perceived.

"I was hoping she…" he murmured, "it does not matter."

"She also cannot sleep."

Angel didn't answer that one. Ilana simply turned around and walked out of the room.

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Buffy undressed and climbed into her bed. She covered herself with all the comforters she could find, but it was still too cold. Too cold, too lonely…too empty. It wasn't weather's warmth she was seeking for, and she was fully aware of that. It was human warmth, the warmth of his strong protective body pressed against hers in a tight loving embrace, the embrace she was used to be taking her into her most marvelous dreams, her sweetest dreams. Dreams of happiness, of love, of eternity…with her lover. It was an embrace she couldn't fall asleep without. But she tried. She endeavored to fall asleep, but even as her eyelids would close, she could not.

Abruptly, she sat up in her bed, wrapping her silky negligee around her. "Why do I have to be so stubborn?" she scolded herself.

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Buffy slowly opened the door into his bedroom. He was lying in bed, seemingly fast asleep. She closed the door from the inside and reclined beside him. "Angel?" she whispered.

"You came," he opened his eyes. "I was not sleeping, you know. I was waiting. Waiting for you. I hoped, perhaps you would stop being angry with me…and you came."

She gently caressed his cheek. "Honey, I'm so sorry. I overreacted. It was stupid. I shouldn't have gotten so upset over it. You have the right to do whatever you want to do. I just…I got scared, and I overreacted."

He kissed her tenderly. "I understand. The important thing is that you came here. I do not know how I could spend this night without you."

She smiled. "Me neither. Does it still hurt a lot?" she motioned towards his waist.

"It is tolerable, do not worry. We will have to talk tomorrow about all this…to fully understand each other."

Buffy nodded.

"But as for now, I just…want you to sleep here in my arms. I want to hold you all night. Always."

She smiled and lay her head on his chest, cuddling him, as he enclosed his arms lovingly around her whole, stroking her back tenderly.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he kissed her head. "Sweet dreams, my love."

Part Twenty-Five

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Angel opened his eyes, finding Buffy smiling down at him. He smiled back.

"Morning, sweetheart," she said, and bent down to kiss him. "I brought you a visitor." She moved away to reveal a sleeping baby lying between the two of them on the bed.

Angel smiled at him.

"I thought he'd be more active," she sighed, "but after he was done eating and drooling over me, he went back to sleep." She traced a gentle finger over the curve of Daniel's little neck. "Angel, I decided he wants a brother or a sister," she informed with a grin.

Angel laughed, cradling his son in his arms. Daniel opened his eyes only for a moment, to see who was disturbing his sleep, and snuggled against his father's chest, sucking at his thumb.

Buffy lay back down, extending her arm across the baby to entwine her fingers with Angel's. "You think anyone's gonna miss us if we don't come down today?"

He beamed and kissed her brow, but before he could answer, the door flew open, and Ilana skipped into their bedroom.

"Oh, I knew you would make up! I just knew!" she sang while bouncing over to a chair by the bed. A wide grin spread allover her features.

Buffy and Angel smiled. First, the fact that Ilana hadn't knocked, then she hadn't looked like wishing to disappear on the spot, unlike she had every other time she'd caught Buffy and Angel in a love pose. Something was definitely up.

She cheerfully confirmed their assumption. "Would you like me to share my exciting news with you?" By the tone of her question, it would not matter if they said 'no'.

"Of course," they said in unison, and laughed at it.

"Well, Liam, it is mainly concerns you."

"What is?"

"Harry Lockwood is going to ask you for my hand in marriage today!" she said vehemently.

"Wow! That's great, I told you to go for it!" Buffy beamed. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Yes, you did, and I am so glad I followed your advice."

"It is wonderful, Ilana, truly," Angel smiled.

"So, will you approve of it then?"

"Naturally. Well, Ilana, as long as this is what you want, you have my approval. I will say 'yes', of course."

"Thank you. It will make me very happy."

"Well, then, I must prepare for his arrival. Ilana, send someone to call for my lawyers, we will be discussing finances and other marital settlements. It will require their presence."

Ilana stood up obediently and was gone at once.

"She's very excited," Buffy observed, sinking back into the coziness of her lover's arms.

"She should be. He will be good for her. I realize as I am sure you do too, there is no love in this marriage, but he has the greatest of respects for my sister. It is important. And perhaps, one day, love would come as well." Angel started sitting up, but twitched with pain at the attempt, grabbing his sore side.

Buffy put her arms around him, and carefully lay him back on the pillows. "It still hurts you," she stated. It was definitely more a statement than it was a question. "I think Ilana's wedding proposal will have to wait for a while," she said, while shifting the cushions behind his back to make him more comfortable, "at least until you'll be back on your feet."

"There will be no need for it, beloved," he objected, "I sat up too fast, forgetting about my injury. It will not happen again."

"Oh, you can be sure it won't happen again, cuz with me taking care of you from now on, you won't be sitting up at all. There," she finished with his pillows, "are you comfortable?"

He nodded. "Very. Thank you. But she is so excited, I do not want to tell her she would have to wait. I know how much she has been looking forward to marry. I am not that weak, I only need to be more careful from now on."

Buffy smiled, cupping his cheek in her hand and peering into his soft eyes. "Have I already told you you are the sweetest person I know? Honey, you're weak enough," she kissed him gently, "I'm sure she will understand. I'll talk to her myself now and explain everything, and afterwards, I'll bring you some breakfast. And Angel, I'm serious. I don't want to see you walking around. I want you in bed. Just lie down and let it heal properly. If you need anything, well, that's what I'm here for. Do I have your word?"

"Do you know how much I love you?" he stroked her cheek.

"Your word, Angel," she insisted solemnly.

"You have my word," he smiled.

"I love you too," Buffy kissed him again and climbed out of the bed.

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Just when Buffy closed the door on her husband, she found her sister in law in the hall, about to come in. Buffy tugged her aside by the arm. "Ilana, we need to talk."

"Is something wrong?"

Buffy nodded. "Something is. Listen, I think that your wedding arrangements are gonna have to be put off for a little while. A few days, maybe."

Ilana's formerly happy expression abruptly dejected. "But…but I thought my brother said 'yes'. Why would he ever change his mind?"

"He hasn't. He agrees for the marriage."

"Well, what is it then?"

"He doesn't feel so good. He's a lot weaker than he thinks, I can smell it when he starts playing the hero, so trust me on it. I don't want him to do anything for several days. He won't be able to meet with Harry. I'm sorry."

"Oh," Ilana seemed to be remarkably mollified, "well, I understand. I can wait; Liam's well being is more substantial. He should be resting now, you are right. I will just send someone to inform Harry not to come."

Buffy smiled. "I'm glad you understand. He is very sorry he can't do it today."

"It is alright, it is not urgent. Both me and Harry can wait," she grinned reassuringly.

"Okay. Well, if you don't mind, I was on my way to bring him breakfast."

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Buffy placed the tray on Angel's nightstand and crawled up into the bed, taking Daniel into her arms and resting her head against Angel's shoulder. He reclined his head on hers and put one arm around her, stroking her arm mildly.

Suddenly, Buffy moved, causing him by that to stop staring into space. She gently cupped his face and turned it to her. "Honey, why aren't you eating?" she inquired. "Is something wrong? You're not hungry?"

He shook his head, taking Daniel from her and placing him in his lap. "No. Nothing. I just…something was disturbing me. I wanted to ask you about it…but then I thought, perhaps I should not."

"What is it? You know you can ask me everything," she beamed.

Angel beheld her. He had a feeling she wouldn't be as smiling after he talked to her. He put Daniel on the bed, taking one of her hands into his and gently caressing the upside of her palm. "Yesterday, as you were treating my wounds, when you touched them…you abruptly withdrew for only a moment, but there was so much pain and sorrow in your eyes that one moment. Do not tell me it was because of the duel, for I know it was not. There was something else."

Buffy surprised him by leaning into his arms, and sniffling back a tear Angel wasn't even aware of until now. He gazed at her with participation, catching her falling tears with his fingers. "Beloved, please do not cry," he whispered.

"Angel, don't make me do this, please," she sobbed into his chest, "I can't go back. I'm still trying to repress it, and when I'm with you, and I'm happy, it works. I succeed. Please, don't stir it up again. I can't deal with it. It's too hard."

Angel kissed her hand sympathetically. *She will speak when she is ready.*

"I killed you," he heard her whispering out of the blue. Angel perceived that her hand, the one that wasn't held in his, was shaking like a leaf in the wind. He put his palm to cover it, facing her.

Buffy's lower lip was trembling and the tears were running freely down her face.

"What do you mean 'you killed me'?" he asked softly, seeing she was going to talk about it after all.

She snuggled against him and he tightened his hug. "I'm sorry," she wailed.

"Sorry about what?" he inquired, stroking her hair, holding her close.

"I still…I still remember how I drove that sword through you…I remember your eyes, Angel…they don't leave me. It's been almost four years and they still don't leave me…I can't forget your eyes…"

"It is alright, love. Do not think about it anymore." But he could feel it was a much greater trauma in her than something she could just stop thinking about. "I am here now. Just remember, I am here now, and I love you."

She shook her head. Buffy felt stronger from some reason. As she was held in his arms like that, she felt she COULD talk about it. The comforting and loving tenderness of his arms around her was substantiation enough to what she had been trying to prove herself for years now. It had all been just a nightmare. "When I…when…you remember the times I was telling you about the future? Do you remember about the time I told you I had to stop a vortex to Hell from being opened?"

"Yes," he nodded, still holding her tight in his arms, "you never told me who would want to open such a horrible thing."

She never had. She had vowed she would never tell him about him being Angelus. "It doesn't matter," she swallowed. "What matters is that I had to kill you for that. Your blood was the only thing that could close the already opened vortex…and I had to kill you." He sensed she started crying again. "Oh, God, Angel, the way your eyes looked at me when I drove that sword through you…the betrayal and the incredulity in them…the way you whispered my name…" she took a deep breath. "Angel, when I saw these sword wounds, it all instantly became so fresh in my memory again, that I wanted to die right there on the spot. Every time I see you with a sword, it returns me to that night."

She swathed her arms around his back, as if holding him would prove he's real. It did.

Angel sighed, reinforcing his cuddle. "I should have known. I should have considered there was something else behind your reaction. My love, I am so sorry. God, I love you so much. Remember how much I love you, and it will make you forget everything. I promise you."

Buffy smiled through her tears, gently kissing the chest that was her shield for life.

Part Twenty-Six

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“Okay, why am I getting looks?” Buffy questioned Angel, stopping in the middle of the stairs.

He gazed at her with incomprehension.

Buffy looked at the people around her. Just three servants that were artlessly walking by. She was right, though. They couldn’t help but steal a glance at their master and mistress and only then walk on. “You’re getting looks too,” she pointed.

Angel still didn’t understand. “Looks from who, Buffy?”

“Everyone.”

Angel just smiled, strode up the stairs to his young wife, and took the child she was holding, cradling him in his arms.

“Don’t do that,” Buffy quipped, while passing him the baby, but she sounded almost serious. “You’ll get hanged for it, the way things are going around here.”

Angel laughed. “And why would I be hanged?” He shifted his son, so that his little head was currently resting on his father’s shoulder, and gently patted his back.

“I don’t know…” Buffy started to think maybe she really was sounding ridicules, “I mean, what’s their deal? You know, I was actually okay with having to have separate bedrooms so that whoever comes to visit would never think we’re doing the ‘big bad thing’ when no one can see, although it’s none of anyone’s business what the Hell we do in our bedroom. And yeah, you know, news flash, married couples DO have sex occasionally, it kinda goes with the whole marriage thing.”

“Sweetheart, we have already been over it. It is how things are today. You can rarely find a husband and a wife of our station who share a bedroom…”

“Okay. And I’m okay with that. My room is standing empty anyway. As long as in the real life I actually live in yours, I can’t really say I care to let others think I don't. But it’s only a part of the big point I’m trying to make here.”

“What is it, then?” He knew what it was. “Okay…” she took a deep breath, preparing to spill it all out, “WHY is it such a problem for a mother to raise her own son? AND for a father, as long as we’re on the subject, cuz your actions draw the exact same reaction as mine. I mean, first, there’s this rule thingie that says I gotta hire another woman, to breastfeed my own son. Why is it wrong for me to do it myself?! Then when I refuse and actually do it myself, what’s next? Next, is that I can’t look after him too. Okay, this just brings us to the question, what the Hell CAN I do? The only thing I hear all around me, is that a woman of my station must have servants to do that dirty work for her, the dirty work, which would be taking care of my own child! God, Angel, doesn’t it bother you? I mean, it’s all concerns you just as much. Every time you hold him, or spend time with him, or do whatever the Hell you wanna do, you get looks. Frankly, it’s STARTING to annoy.”

Angel could only stare at her. He saw the point she was trying to make. He knew it was just and valid. His wife was born in a different society, where the things that here were absurd, there were conventional. He had lived with those rules for twenty-six years, and it was only when he had met her, that his eyes had suddenly opened. She had showed him there was another way. At first, he had troubles putting up with her ways. It wasn’t that he'd refused to accept them; it was more of that they had just been too much to get used to at once. But the more he had gotten to know her, the more he'd understood how right they had been. There was no doubt Buffy had changed him. In fact, she was still changing him. He could see the blunt disparity between the man before and the man after he'd met her. She'd made what he was today. Her convention, and way of life, that were prohibited in the midst of his people, had awoken a different person within him, someone he hadn’t known he could ever be, and he liked the person he'd become thanks to her. He liked his new personality a lot more than his old one.

She was his wife, his lover, his essence, and he tried to please her in every way he could. He had broken these rules time after time, and he'd very soon realized he hadn’t been doing it just for her, but also for himself. She was right. Why did he have to answer to others about what was going on in his bedroom?! It was, after all, his house, his wife, why did he still need to excuse his actions? It was more than enough that he couldn’t even kiss his own wife in public, because of what the other people might think. And Daniel…Angel couldn’t even imagine what it would be like, letting foreign people raise his little boy. How it would be like, not being there every step of his way, not holding him in his arms even only to carry him from place to place, or changing him, or taking care of him when he's sick, because it was a servant’s duty, or the baby’s nanny’s. And why on earth couldn’t his wife feed her own son? Because it wasn’t ‘the proper thing to do for a Duchess’? What was the proper thing, then? Letting their son be nurtured by people who were not his birth parents? While his birth parents would receive ‘visitation rights’, only when the child looked his best and then it was ‘proper’?

Angel had faced that very same dilemma too many times in the past. He could always do whatever he wanted in the end, which he did, raising his son the way his wife, and himself, knew was right, and living their lives the way THEY wanted, but he also knew people around them did NOT see it in a very good manner. And while he could pretend he didn’t care, he knew his wife would NEVER pretend she felt something she did not. He respected her for that, and loved her, and they had been having similar altercations going on for a while now, and he knew it was disturbing her to a greater extent, and there still was nothing he could do. He couldn’t ever tell her what she wanted to hear, because if he did, he would be lying. “I am sorry, beloved,” was all he could eventually say.

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” she looked down in defeat. She wasn’t really expecting a different reply. He was as helpless as she was about the whole situation, and she understood it.

Angel extended his free hand, waiting for her to take it.

Buffy looked at him again, smiling. There were both despondency and reverse in that smile, but altogether, Angel knew just how genuine it was. Every time she smiled at him, it was real. Buffy took his hand, and he led her out of the front door, pressing a fair kiss to her lips, not really caring who would see in this point, and wrapping his free arm around her shoulders, holding their son in the other.

They had a sunny day on the beach ahead of them, and NOTHING was going to spoil it.

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They had been strolling mutely, hand in hand, their legs sinking in the soft white sand of the shoreline. Angel peeped at Buffy. She had mostly been quiet since they had left home. He hoped it was because she just didn’t have much to say, he didn’t want the reason to be her still being upset by their debate a while ago. The manor was very near to the shore. It took them about five or ten minutes to walk there. Now, they had been sauntering all through it for already at least another ten minutes, and she still hadn’t spoken to him. She wasn’t mad, and she wasn’t distant, he knew that for sure. She was holding his hand the entire time, and while little Daniel’s head was resting on his left shoulder, hers was peacefully resting against his right arm.

Angel released her hand and she gazed at him with surprise, but he only put his arm around her shoulders and she silently returned to her former position in his warm cuddle.

Angel kissed her temple. “Why would you not talk to me?” he asked softly.

Buffy didn’t say anything for a while. “What do you want me to say?”

“I would settle for anything.”

Buffy stopped and turned to face him. At first, she intended to say something, but then she sat down on the warm sand, taking off her shoes, to dig her legs in it. It was all done without saying a word to him.

Angel interpreted her silence as an invitation, and as always, wasn’t wrong. She was expecting for him to come and sit beside her. He did so, not taking his eyes off of her the entire time.

Finally, Buffy faced him, embracing her knees to her body, as much as the aristocratic gown she was wearing allowed her. “I don’t know, Angel. I just never thought it’d be that hard.” She saw he was listening. He was always listening, but could he always make it all better?

“I understand, love,” he said sympathetically.

“No, you can't. I just…I feel like an outsider. Angel, I’ve been here for over a year now, and the only person who could truly and fully understand me all that time, has been you. I feel like some kind of a freak. I feel like…I don’t know. I feel like it just isn’t my world, that it isn’t my place.”

Sadness and fear materialized in his soft orbs. “I am…I…” he faltered, “I am sorry.” He had never thought the day would come when she’d say that to him. He felt his place was with her, didn’t she feel the same? Her most recent words unquestionably confirmed she didn’t. If she left…Angel knew there was a way for her to leave. He wasn’t that stupid not to comprehend every spell had one to reverse its effects. She could go back to where she came from whenever she wanted, and there was nothing he could do to stop her. If she did so…what would he have left? Nothing. The same nothing he had had before she had come. He glanced at Daniel. Well, he would have his son. His son…one of the two best things to ever happen in his life...and how would he do without a mother? If she'd felt so awful about being with him, why hadn’t she left the moment she'd come? Why had she had to marry him, have a child with him, and then say she wanted to leave? When Angel thought about it though, he doubted he would have felt any differently if she had left at the beginning. It would have been the same pain as now. He hadn't loved her any less then. He couldn’t.

Buffy read all the reflections in his sad dark eyes the second he considered them. He had always been like an open book to her. *Oh, God…I never meant it like that…* “Angel, no,” she said softly, thoughtfully, laying a gentle hand on his arm, “honey, I never meant it like that. Please, please, don’t ever think that.” She put her palm on his cheek, caressing it tenderly. “There is NOTHING that would make me give up on a life with you. I never want you to doubt me. Angel, I love you with all my heart. Nothing will ever make me leave, you understand that? Nothing.”

Angel felt like a huge burden had just been lifted from his heart. How could he ever doubt her like that? He should have trusted her in the first place, instead of showing her he had been having doubts all along. He wasn’t even sure he had doubts. He hadn’t thought about it for over a year. The doubts…they started now, because of her words. And they started with no foundations whatsoever. If there were one thing he was sure about more than anything, it was her love for him, their love for each other. He knew THAT was real, THAT was eternal. And she had just proven it once more.

He smiled. “I love you too. I have never meant to make you feel mistrusted.”

Buffy leaned into his cuddle, embracing his back with one arm, and gently brushing their sleeping son’s head with her other hand.

Angel hugged her, resting her head on his chest, and kissing it.

“You didn’t. I know it was what I said that made you feel like crap in the first place, and I should be the one to be sorry,” Buffy took the hand that was resting around her shoulders and clasped it in her own, “I love you so much. You give meaning to my life, Angel, in so many ways you would never know. Every second I’m with you…I know nothing but happiness. And in all the worst moments, all I have to do to make it all go away, is just to think of how much you love me. I wouldn’t have been who I am today, if it hadn’t been for you. I would probably not be here at all, coming to think about it." She gazed up at him, running a gentle hand over the side of his face. "Darling, you are the most wonderful man I have ever met in my life. You make me happy like no one else can. But sometimes, it all makes me so frustrated. All the ‘can’ and ‘cannot’ do's I have to follow, all the ‘right’ and ‘wrong’s, and I take it all out on you. And you gotta sit there, listening to my gibberish, while most of the time, you probably don’t even understand why is it that I’m so upset. Angel, I’m sorry.”

“I do understand, love. I understand everything. The fact that I was born with those rules does not mean I find them reasonable. I know how much it must be hurting you…”

“I just wish there was some way around. This whole ‘from two different worlds’ thing is ruining us, Angel. It already had ruined us once, I can’t let that happen again. I can't lose you," she tightened her hold around him, as he did the same.

“You will never lose me. And I do know how upsetting it can be, but all we can do is not let it blemish our lives. We cannot make them nonexistent, beloved. They will be there. But it does not mean we have to let them affect us.”

“I know. You’re right. You’re always right…” Buffy was gently stroking the back of his palm with her fingertips, pondering to herself what had she ever done to deserve this man. She would be thankful for the rest of her life for his love. Suddenly, Buffy looked up at him, her mien is playfully disgruntled. “You know, I drive my head into the wall, time after time, trying to find an easy way out of everything here, and then you come up with those brainy wits of yours, in which you are always right…”

She didn’t finish her lighthearted whining, because Angel seized her mouth in a kiss that took her breath away immediately.

“Okay, that can work too,” Buffy concluded, once the kiss broke due to their mutual need to breathe.

“Does that mean you feel better now?” he asked her, smiling.

Buffy moved herself into his lap, taking their son in her arms, and gently kissing his head, while Angel wrapped his arms protectively around his little family.

“I love you two so much,” he whispered.

“Me too, my love,” she replied, beaming, “more than anything in the world,” Buffy inclined her head up, for another gentle, yet fiery, kiss from her husband, all snug in his loving embrace, and the little hands of their baby boy, wrapped tightly around her neck. Yes. She was sure of it now, he COULD make it all better.

At the heart of the kiss, Buffy abruptly felt something. Something strange, a familiar sensation, but she could not recall where from.

All of a sudden, it was over. Buffy opened her eyes. She screamed.

Part Twenty-Seven

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Angel slowly but fearfully drew back and dared to open his eyes. No. It wasn’t a nightmare. He closed his eyes and opened them again. It was real. She was gone. Daniel was lying on the soft sand right on the spot his mother had occupied a second earlier. There was no sign of her, none whatsoever. Perhaps…except for the feeble smell of her so familiar perfume. It was the only evidence to that she had ever existed at all. That, and the small baby that now started crying.

Angel took him in his arms, allaying him with soft words he was whispering absentmindedly. He kept staring at the empty space before him. His senses still weren’t working properly, he hadn’t yet grasped the full meaning of what had happened just now. Or maybe he had, maybe he just refused to believe it, thinking that if he didn’t believe it, it wouldn’t really be true. He knew he was fooling himself, but it was the only thing he could do for now. *She is gone…she is gone…she is gone…* the thought wouldn’t leave his mind. It was there, whispering, lurking, unbidden...refusing to let go…*She is gone…*

“No…” Angel mumbled, shaking his head, denying what had already happened and without a doubt could not be reversed. “No…” he reached helplessly with his free hand to feel the sand she was sitting on. Despite the hot weather, it was icy cold to his touch. Cold…and empty. So empty.

The child in his arms ceased sobbing and was now quietly nestled in his father’s lap. Angel was wondering, could Daniel understand what was going on? Could he feel it too? Yes, he was only an infant, but it didn’t mean he was stupid. He was human too, after all. Someone who, just as Angel himself, had just lost one of the two dearest people in the world to him. Would at least one of them ever be able to go on? What would Angel do when his son would be crying for his mother in the middle of the night? What would he do when he himself would be crying for her in the middle of the night?…

Was there ever a solution? Was there an answer? Was there a reason? Was there a way to move on?

Angel stood up and started heading back towards the mansion. Every now and then, he would turn around to peer at the shore, but it would always be in vain. She wasn’t there. He might as well accept it as an inevitable fact. Only, he wasn’t able to…how could he ever?

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After Angel had come in, he went straight to his bedroom. No. Not his. Their. He lay his sleeping son into his crib and tucked him in gently, kissing him on the forehead. He was a beautiful baby. He was a living reminder of his mother. He was his son. He was many things, but most importantly, now, he was the only thing Angel had had left.

He sat on the large bed…*too large*…and gently brushed his fingertips over the covers, hoping to catch something of her that perhaps remained there, but once again was disenchanted. Just bed linen. He heard a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

It was his little sister Laura. “One of the servants told me you have come back. I thought, perhaps, if you had some free time, you could help me with my homework,” she smiled.

Angel gazed up at her. He was more than accustomed to how Laura used to come to him all the time, so he could help her with her homework. He knew the girl hated her governess for giving her homework, and she hated even more the fact that Angel had made her to keep on with her studies nevertheless. But did she have to come NOW? A fourteen-year-old little girl. Could she understand? Could she see his pain? No. He was sure she couldn’t. And it wasn’t her age that stood in the way, as Angel soon came to understand. She could be fourteen, or fifty. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t understand…because she wasn’t her. She wasn’t his Buffy. His wife, his love…his Buffy. No, he could never talk to her, could never tell her...Anyone. “Perhaps, some other time, Laura,” he said quietly.

The girl surveyed the chamber. “Liam, where is Buffy?” she asked, finally noticing his wife wasn’t in the room as well, and since the two were literally inseparable, finding it odd.

Angel shuddered at the sound of her name. He played it over and over in his head, but…hearing someone pronouncing it…was another story. A single tear slid down his cheek.

Laura gaped at him. She didn’t miss that tear. She gasped and turned on her heels, running out of the room.

No, she wasn’t indifferent. She wasn’t unfeeling. Angel knew it, and he wasn’t mad at her, nor was he surprised with how she'd reacted. Laura was her mother’s daughter. Why would she ask him why he was crying if the mere fact that he WAS crying, wasn’t explicable to her? He was after all, a man. What could be so horrible to make a man cry? But Buffy would understand. She would take him in her arms, and she would tell him that it would be alright, just as he would do to her once she would be the one in need. But they could be there for each other no more. They weren’t even existing in the same time and space anymore. Angel wasn’t that stupid not to be able to realize where she had gone. She had gone back, back to where she had originally come from, back to where...she belonged, back to where…to where she was no longer with him. He wasn’t angry with her. How could he? He loved her. He loved her more than life, more than anything in the world. He knew she didn’t want to leave, she'd said so herself. He was confident in their love for each other more than he was certain about anything else. She didn’t want to leave…but she had. She had.

How would he go on now? How would he go on after losing almost everything? She was his lifeline, his soul. And he had lost her. How would his life be without her? How would HE be without her?

Angel lay on his bed, tenderly caressing her silky nightgown with his palm. “I miss you, my love,” he whispered softly to the empty room, as if she were there to hear him. Another tear slowly made her way down his cheek, and another one…

*Maybe I will see you again...*

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