Part 10
Lindsey McDonald had the feeling he'd jumped head first into a nightmare. The next moment someone - preferably Faith - would shake him awake, tell him that this was a really stupid joke, that nothing that was currently happening was real. That the people in the same room would just fade to nothingness.
Unfortunately the serious face of Duncan Llanarth didn't look as if it was going to disappear any time soon. Neither the sourly ones of Frances Keeler or Frank Didrich.
"This ah unfortunate matter has taken enough of our time, don't you think, Duncan?" Frances said, sniffing in dismay.
"I'm sorry if this is bothering you," Lindsey replied, not caring for the bitter tone of his voice. It was only his life they were currently playing with, so he had a right to sound bitter. "But you still haven't given me an explanation why I found this," he pointed at the letter on the table, "on my desk this morning."
"I thought the text was quite clear," Frank Didrich opened his briefcase, then flipped through several files in there, before he closed it again with a sigh. "I really need to leave," he looked at Duncan Llanarth, the only one in the room who seemed uncomfortable with the situation. He was the senior partner of the law firm, and even though the others were equals in all decisions, it was still his word that counted most. "The client will not be waiting any longer."
Rubbing his enormous neck, his face having turned an unhealthy shade of red a while ago, Duncan gazed at the young lawyer sitting in front of him, "Lindsey, I assure you, we are very sorry for this unfortunate matter especially on such a short notice, but the situation as it was explained to us, didn't give us a choice. "
"Bullshit," Lindsey came to his feet like a bullet, "This is such bullshit. I brought the firm, what - two or three million bucks last year. I'm your best process attorney, I won most of the cases I handled. I think I earn better than being kicked out with a letter containing a convenient lie about the reason." He stopped, took a deep breath, "I want to know if Mr. Marshall had anything to do with it." He stared at the partners, daring them to look away, daring them to lie to him again.
It was the only explanation he could come up with. Faith's father had threatened him, and now he was making good on it. The Marshall Financial Group was the firm's biggest client, and Lindsey wasn't stupid enough to believe that a lawyer, even a good one like him, had any chance against them.
"Lindsey-," Frances started, but Duncan cut her off, sighing loudly.
"I think," he said, rubbing his neck again, a clear sign that he didn't like the current situation a single bit. "Lindsey has earned the truth." He looked up at the young lawyer, "You are right. MFG (Marshal Financial Group) has threatened to consult another firm in the future if we should fail to remove you from our staff. Mr. Marshall informed us about a most recent confrontation-"
He stopped when he heard Lindsey laugh, "I can't believe this. I can't fucking believe this." He faced the partners, his eyes cool and hard, "We had a confrontation all right. He offered me let's call it a transaction."
Duncan's forehead turned into a heavy frown, "Transaction?"
"He never mentioned a sum, but if I agreed to end my relationship with his daughter, Faith, he had every intention to even my path. I declined his most generous offer, first and foremost because I happen to love his daughter, but also because it was dirty and immoral. Afterwards he threatened to ruin me. I told him he would never succeed," he laughed again, "but I should've known it better. God, you are so pathetic."
"Lindsey," Frank tried to speak up, obviously shocked by what he had just heard, but the young lawyer held up a hand.
Maybe it was not a very rational reaction, maybe it was even stupid, but all of sudden Lindsey had realized that under no circumstances he would be able to stay in this firm. "Save it. I don't want to hear it. I can't believe you let him blackmail you. Do you realize what that means. It means he owns you." Once again he laughed, "Maybe I should think myself lucky that I'm outa here. And that's what I am. Today. I don't need a month notice. I'm gone."
"Lindsey," Duncan stood, starting towards him.
"Not interested," Lindsey said simply, before he left the room, leaving the door open for the partners to see his retreat. Quietly he went to his office, cleared out his desk. He had thirty thousand dollars on his account. Certainly no fortune, and if he'd known this might happen, he wouldn't have been so free to spend his money on new furniture, and one or two expensive pieces of jewellery for Faith, but hopefully it would be enough to start his own practice. He took a last long look at his office, before he straightened his shoulders. This damned firm could go to hell for all he cared. If that bastard Marshall thought he'd won, he was up for the surprise of his life.
*****
Not caring where he left his car, Angel slammed the door closed and not bothering to lock it, he raced into the hospital, images of Buffy being seriously hurt almost tearing him apart. Darla was right on his heels, he could hear her footsteps behind him, but he didn't turn. She had insisted to come with him to take care of Connor who would be confused at best at the injury of the woman who was with him.
Reaching the nurse's desk, Angel made his presence known, "My name is Liam Sullivan. I was informed my wife was brought here with a head injury."
The nurse, a woman in her fifties looked up with an almost bored expression in her eyes. "What was the name again?"
"Sullivan. Buffy Sullivan," he replied, barely restricting himself from yelling. He felt Darla's hand coming to lay on his arm and took a deep breath. Then he pulled away. He knew she was trying to help, but he still couldn't bear being touched by her. Not after hearing she'd been with his father because they were look alikes. God, the whole thing was making him sick.
"Yes, there we've got her," the nurse announced after what seemed like an eternity. "She's on the third floor, examination room six." He was already in the elevator when she yelled, "But you can't go in there. You need to wait outside."
Yeah. Right.
The elevator doors closed, and he found himself once again alone with Darla. "Liam, you need to calm down. You won't help her behaving like a madman."
"Don't," he warned, taking a step away from her. "Don't talk to me Darla. Just don't. I let you come with me because of Connor, but I don't want to talk. And you can keep your comments to yourself."
Completely taken aback by his harsh words, which not at all fit the picture she had from him, she pressed her back against the wall of the elevator. "I am sorry. Please believe me if I had a chance if there was another way " She saw him shake his head angrily and trailed off.
"I don't want to hear it. Especially not now." Gratefully the same moment the elevator arrived on the third floor, saving them from further conversation. Angel simply wasn't able to think rational. He couldn't deal with Darla's betrayal on top of everything else.
Reaching examination room six, Angel didn't bother knocking, he simply pushed the door open and instantly regretted it. On the table in the middle of the room was his wife, looking more fragile than he'd ever seen her. Her blouse was torn, her pants dirty, one of her shoes was missing. Her hands were covered with cuts, her arms full of bruises. But the worst was her face. There was a deep cut running from the corner of her right eye towards her hairline, and the right half of her face was stained with dried blood. But at least she was awake because her eyes were open and on him as soon as he appeared in the doorway.
"Angel," she whispered, reaching out for him, needing the contact, the warmth his presence infused her with. She had been in a constant state of barely suppressed panic ever since she'd woken up in the hospital half an hour ago.
"Buffy," he rushed to her side, taking her hand in his. It felt smaller than ever all of a sudden, and it was cold and almost lifeless in his. HIs gut clenched painfully. "God, baby, what happened?" He pulled the hand to his mouth and kissed it gently.
"Would you please not upset the patient," the nurse said from the other side of the table, glaring at him. "The doctor needs her to lie still so that he can stitch her up properly. Or do you want your wife running around with an ugly scar on her lovely face?"
"I don't care," Angel hissed at her. What the hell did a scar count when he'd already gone through the scenario of finding her hurt badly, maybe even worse? All that counted was that she was alive, and hopefully going to be well soon. "Is she going to be alright?" he wanted to know.
Something shifted in the nurse's eyes and she suddenly smiled at him. Reaching over the table she patted his shoulder, "She's going to be fine. It's nothing serious. A cut that's sewn up right now by our best assistant," she grinned at the young doctor who seemed so concentrated on his work, he hadn't said a word so far, "and a headache which will soon disappear. So don't worry."
Looking back at his wife, Angel exhaled a long breath. "Oh God Buffy, when they called me "
She felt him shudder beside her, felt his hand clench around her own. "I'm okay," she told him, trying not to move her head for the doctor's sake. instead she reached out with her other hand and cupped his cheek. "I'm sorry I scared you like this." Then she suddenly remembered why she had almost panicked before and bit her lower lip, taking a deep, shuddering breath at the same time.
Angel noticed the change in her _expression instantly. Besides it was hard to miss the tears that were now welling up in her eyes, "Hey," he wanted to know, afraid she was in pain. "What is it? Can't you give her something?" he hissed at the doctor.
"No, I'm fine," she removed her free hand from his face and wiped her tears away, hating more than anything to give him the news she knew he had to hear. "Angel," she locked her eyes with his, "Connor. Whoever knocked me on the head, he took Connor."
*****
Darla looked up when she saw a man and a woman hurry towards her in the hallway. She was unsuccessfully trying to suppress the panic she felt because she still had no idea of the whereabouts of her son. Angel had left her without a second glance obviously too concerned about his wife to care. And the nurse she had asked before had only lifted her shoulders in a gesture of helplessness and then continued to fulfil her other duties.
The couple was approaching her now. The man, an African-American in his mid-twenties was somehow familiar, but she couldn't place him. Or maybe she would have been able to if she'd been in better mental condition. The idea of Connor sitting somewhere waiting for her was almost driving her our of her mind.
They stopped right in front of her, the woman, obviously older than the man, held onto his hand. "You looking for Buffy?" Darla asked, glad her voice sounded almost normal.
"Yeah," the woman nodded, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, "What's it to you? You don't look like a nurse," she added with a pointed look at Darla's clothes.
"No, I'm not," Darla got up, held out her hand. "I'm Darla. I'm here with Liam."
The woman's brow rose, "With Liam? What for?"
Ah the protective friend, Darla mused. "We uh ," she started, but couldn't finish when Gunn interrupted, his eyes hard and cold.
"She's Angel's ex," he explained to the woman, and at her raised eyebrows he added, "From way, way back." Then his eyes were back on the blond, "Don't remember me, huh, Darla- darlin'?"
Her eyes widened in sudden recognition, "Gunn? Charles Gunn?"
"Yeah, the very same. And I'm warning you, right now. If you hurt him again, I won't just stand back and watch this time. You are going to regret you ever came back. And if you came to tear up his marriage ," he trailed off but his expression left no doubt that going against him wouldn't be a pleasure.
He had not changed very much, Darla noticed, a lot less than Liam, who had developed from a lanky teenager - a good looking one, granted, but still lanky, into an attractive man, the way she had always expected it.. Gunn on the other hand had filled out, and he'd shaved his head, but he was still the black-eyed teenager with the suppressed rage beneath his smooth faηade. She remembered him and Liam, always sticking together. And that other guy, she couldn't remember. The boy whose father was a racist. Thick as thieves. "I ," she looked at him, when the door behind her opened and Angel stepped into the hallway.
Darla whirled around, "Liam," not thinking she reached for his arm, "Where is Connor?" She didn't care for the panic now easily recognizable in her voice. Her son was missing - she was entitled to a little panic. "I couldn't find him anywhere."
"What about Buffy?" Cordelia wanted to know, glaring at Darla.
Angel ran a hand through his hair, and nodded at Gunn and his girlfriend as a matter of greeting. "Buffy is going to be okay. She has a cut on her forehead and a minor concussion. They want to keep her for observation for the night." She smiled slightly, "She tried her best to talk the doctor out of it, but he was obviously deaf to her pleas."
"But if she's going to be okay, why does she have to stay here?" Cordelia asked, remembering her friend's problems with hospitals.
"Obviously it's standard procedure. And I also think she should stay. It's only for one night and I feel a lot better if she is looked after."
He looked down at Darla, and she instantly removed her hand from his arm. "I I'm glad about Buffy," she managed, "A-and Connor," she asked, dreading the answer.
"Connor is missing," Angel replied, giving her a hard look, feeling new anger rising inside of him. The way she behaved, the way her pupils had widened in panic, he had the certain feeling she knew a lot more about this.
And when she stepped back, on of her hands pressed on her lips, he was sure his feeling was dead on. "Oh God," she whispered, moving away until her back hit the wall. She closed her eyes, and pressed her free arm over her middle as if in pain. "Oh my God."
"I want to know what's going on, Darla," for once not really interested in her momentary state of health, Angel made a threatening step towards her when he felt Gunn's hand on his shoulder. His friend looked at him with concerned eyes and Angel took a deep breath to get himself under control. All he could think was Buffy, the blood on her face, the cut on her forehead, and the way she had looked so pale and fragile. And Connor, who had been kidnapped - and it was obvious that his mother knew a lot more about it than she had been willing to tell.
"I am so sorry, Angel," Darla's eyes were filled with tears. "I never wanted anyone to get hurt. Oh God, I am so sorry. Oh Connor." She was weeping openly now, not caring anymore who could see.
"I don't care what you wanted," Angel shook off Gunn's hand, the hard look never leaving his eyes. "Some piece of scum, hurt my wife. My wife. Do you understand? If the blow had been a little more to the right, she might be dead. And he took your son." He gave her a smile that made her shiver, "Darla, right now I ," he fisted his hands, desperately trying to keep his control. "You shouldn't mess with me. Not now. Which means, no more lies. Tell me everything you know. And this time don't leave anything out. Do we understand each other?"
After a moment of hesitation, Darla nodded. Her voice trembling she began to talk.
Part 11
Faith looked up from the papers she was going through when the door to her office suddenly opened. She had expected David, her assistant, but to her utter surprise her lover was standing there, a strange _expression on his face - one she had never seen before. There was anger and disappointment, but there was also a mysterious smile playing around his mouth - and above all, she could recognize determination.
"Usually I'd say this is a nice surprise, but I have the certain feeling this isn't a lover's visit." She cocked an eyebrow. "Am I right?"
He frowned at her for a moment, before he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "You know me far too well already," Lindsey muttered, not sure what to think of this new development. He loved this woman - even though he hadn't told her so far - but someone who could read him like a book was a completely different matter.
She grinned, "Yeah, I know. Isn't it great." Getting up from her chair, she came around the desk, her left hip gliding along the edges of her desk in a deliberately sexual innuendo. When she reached him, she raised her hand and let her forefinger trail down the buttons of his shirt, "You didn't close the door," she purred. She knew there was something on his mind, but who said that it couldn't wait? The way his determination was almost radiating from him was attractive in a way she could hardly believe.
He caught her hand just before it reached his crotch and held it. "I didn't come for *that*."
"No?" She sighed in disappointment, then keeping a little pout on her lips - one she knew he could never resist - and looked at him. "Fine. So, why *did* you come then?"
"Stop it," he scolded not so gently, and traced a finger over her adorable lips. He could already feel his sex stirring, but suppressed the urge to follow his hormones. "This is serious, Faith." He let go of her hand, and with a last look at her went towards the window to look out on the street below. Faith had finished college a few months ago and had used a part of the money she'd inherited from her grandmother to open up a model agency. Lindsey had been doubtful at first, but she'd insisted on it, explained that with her background she knew enough of the right people. And so far she'd been proven right. In a few years she'd make a lot more money Lindsey could ever dream to earn as a lawyer. Obviously the name Marshall did the trick even in a business related to her father's.
Was he going to break up with her? That was the first thought that shot through Faith's head as she watched her lover turn away from her and walk to the window. They had gotten a lot closer over the past months, they'd even survived her father's attempt to break them apart. But so far she was still not sure what exactly Lindsey felt about her, why he had come to her in the first place. Sure, there was attraction, and the sex was phenomenal - the best she'd ever had, but from experience she knew that it wouldn't be enough to hold a relationship together. Sometimes she thought she knew what went on his head. But there were days-
"I was fired today."
His voice cut through her musings and forced her back to the present in a very unpleasant way. She stared at his back and blinked, "What did you say?"
"Duncan informed me that I was no longer needed. Or rather he said that the client wasn't happy about my presence in the firm."
She knew it the moment the words were out. 'The client', he'd said, but if he'd mentioned the name it wouldn't have made a difference. "My father," she whispered, her mouth suddenly as dry as a desert, her stomach clenching painfully. "Oh God."
He laughed - it came out a little more bitter than intended. He was over the worst of his bitterness. Had already started planning for the future - but it still hurt that he had been dropped like a hot potato. It shouldn't. But it did. "Yeah. He made it perfectly clear that his company was no longer interested in the firm if I was still part of the deal. So they - kicked me out."
"Just like this?" She was still trying to wrap her mind around this. They had fired Lindsey. Because of her father.
Because of her.
"No, not just like this. When I came into my office this morning I found a fucking letter." He whirled around, his eyes blazing with remembered anger, "A letter. Imagine that. Those cowards," he added on a snort, "they couldn't talk to me first. Only when I demanded a meeting they agreed."
He expected her to answer, but she didn't. Strangely she didn't make any sound at all, and after a while he turned around only to find her standing in the middle of the office, wringing her hands in front of her body, her face twisted in agony. "Faith?" He uttered her name in concern and attempted to walk over, but she held up a hand.
"No," she shook her head, taking a step back. "I'm so sorry. It's because of me. You lost your job because of me."
He didn't know what to say to her. Because it was true. He had lost his job because he had refused to exchange her for a bundle of big bucks, but it was also not her fault. *She* hadn't done anything, besides being the most beautiful and sexy woman he'd ever met. And one could certainly not blame her for receiving such a good mixture of genes. "Faith, listen-" he started, but was once again interrupted by the raising of her hand.
"Of course I understand," she said, her eyes strangely vacant, looking at nothing. She licked her lips, "I I mean, this is important to you. Your job is important. You can't give it up just because ," she didn't say it, but he could understand it nevertheless.
A frown appeared on his forehead, "Do you - by any means - think I came to break up with you?"
Her eyes flickered to his face before they once again gazed into infinity, "I wouldn't blame you," she said simply.
He was in front of her with two long strides, grabbing her shoulders almost roughly, "Then think again. Because you're not going to get rid of me that easily."
She blinked, and slowly her eyes refocused on his face. The relief she felt at his words was so huge, she felt her knees turn to rubber and she couldn't help to slightly sag against him. "Oh," was all she managed to get out.
"Yeah," he said gruffly, pulling her close and wrapping her in his arms. "I came to tell you. Just that. Nothing else. Wait, that's not completely true." He took her chin between thumb and forefinger and forced her to look up at him. "I also came to tell you that I intend to show them what they lost by firing me."
She managed a wobbly smile at his determination, "Sounds good to me."
"Hmmm," he agreed, returning the smile, feeling a softness inside of him, he couldn't believe it existed, "You really thought I'd let you go? Your father might be an asshole, but that's not your fault, honey. You're still the most incredible woman I've met."
Her spunk returning, she grinned, "Is that right? So," she reached out and ran her fingers through his thick hair, she loved so much. "What are you going to do to make them see their errors?"
"I'm going to start my own law practice. And I'm going to beat them in court so often they will come on bended knees and want me back. But I won't. I will like being my own master."
"I can see that," she purred, rubbing her lower body against him, enjoying the feel of his sex responding. "I think you should lock the door now." She licked her lips in the most sensual way she knew and he hardened even more.
He looked at her for a moment, then he reached around her and turned the key.
*****
"Wait a moment. Are you telling us that your ex-husband threatened you?" Cordelia wasn't sure what to feel about this woman sitting in front of her, her shoulders slumped she looked even more fragile than before. Plus, her face had a strangely yellowish color, a certain sign of illness. Cordelia was torn between anger and feeling sorry for her and had yet to decide which one was going to win out.
Darla turned her head towards the dark-haired beauty - Gunn's girlfriend no doubt - and nodded, "Yeah. He did. From the moment I announced that I would leave him, he threatened me. He even bought false witnesses to get Connor from the judge. But unfortunately for him the judge was a woman and she didn't buy any of his lies. I finally got full custody of Connor. But Steve is still his adopted father." The blonde's eyes flickered to Angel, who was watching her with barely suppressed anger. Cordelia couldn't really blame him for it.
"And his name is Gardiner? Steven Gardiner?" Gunn wanted to know.
"Yes," Darla nodded again, "I met him when Connor was about two. He and Steve liked each other instantly. I thought it was a match made in Heaven. And it was - at first. They went to little league games and Connor adored Steve. We married a year after we met. Then I found the pictures." She looked at Angel then, her face suddenly hard and unforgiving.
"You mean of other woman," he asked.
"No," she paused, took a deep breath, "of Steven and children. Little boys. He the pictures showed him and them ," she had to swallow, felt nausea again - and this time it had nothing to do with her illness, and all with the memory of finding the pictures in her husband's desk. "They were naked," she said finally, then laughed. "But I still didn't want to believe it. So I did some research, I even hired a PI. She found out that Steven had been married before. To a woman who had a kid. A little boy aged four."
Not able to sit anymore, Darla got up and ran an unsteady hand through her hair. All she could think was that they were wasting time, that Connor was missing, probably abducted by Steve or one of his men. She whirled around, "Do we really need to talk about this now? Connor is out there. Probably scared to death. We need to find him first. And we won't by sitting around an talking."
"I already called the cops," Angel informed her.
Darla's face went from yellowish to deathly pale in the split of a second, "T-the c-cops," she stammered. "Oh God." She pressed one hand in front of her trembling lips and tried not to give in to sudden despair.
"The cops?" Gunn raised a brow.
"I called Kate," Angel amended, then turned at Darla, "Connor was abducted. This is nothing we can do on our own. Kate is a friend. She-"
"You don't understand," Darla said, her voice rising. "You have no idea what kind of man Steve is."
"No, I don't," Angel agreed, his anger surfacing once again, "Because you lied to me from the start. You came and told me Connor was my son. Then I find out he might be my father's as well." He ignored the stab of hurt he felt at the words, he also ignored Cordy's shocked gasp, and went on, "And now you're telling me that your ex-husband is a child molester. Gee - it's really surprising I don't know what kind of guy Steve is."
Darla let the sarcasm in his voice wash over her without flinching. What was the matter of it, anyway. He had every right to be angry. She *had* deceived him. Had lied to him. Hurt him. What he couldn't know - and what she would never tell him - was that she had hated every minute of being with his father. She could still remember the smell of booze on Frank Sullivan's breath, could still hear the grunts he'd made moving in and out of her. He might have looked a lot like his son, but inside he was nothing like the gentle, sensitive boy she had helplessly fallen in love with. That was another thing she would take to the grave. She would never let him know what she'd felt then. Hew she was torn apart by wanting a sixteen year old teenager. She, a woman of twenty-seven. A teacher. She'd known it was an impossible fantasy she'd lived in for those all too short weeks of sweet love, but she didn't regret it. Couldn't.
Pulling herself back from the past, she concentrated on what was important. Connor. "Steve is he never touched me but I know he is a violent man. He has money. A lot. And he's used to get his will done. When he called me some days ago, I-"
She gasped when Angel suddenly grabbed her upper arm, and pushed her against the wall, his face only inches from hers, "What?" His voice was soft, but she could still hear the steel in it. "What did you say?"
"H-he called me some days ago a-and told me that he had found me. That he wanted Connor-"
"And you let Buffy leave with him? You knew Steve a violent man from your own words was after you and Connor and you let Buffy go with him." His palm hit the wall beside her face and this time she did flinch. There was such rage in his eyes, for the first time in her life she was afraid of him. "Damn you," he hissed, then with obvious effort let go of her and walked to the other side of the hallway.
"You bitch," Cordelia got right back into her face. "You knew this might happen. But instead of telling Angel, you hoped nothing would. She could have been killed, do you realize that."
"I know," Darla cried, pushing away from the wall, before walking over to Angel. "Liam, I'm sorry. I never thought Steve would try anything with Buffy around. Maybe he wasn't even there. Maybe one of his men thought it was me. We are both blondes "
"I really don't want to hear your apologies," Angel said, not looking at her. He wasn't sure that he could hold it together if he did. He saw Buffy on the examination table, her face bloody and bruised, her cold hand shaking in his, and the only thing he could think was that Darla had known. That nothing of this would have happened if she hadn't lied to him. "Is this the truth?" he wanted to know.
"I swear. It's the truth. He did have other women, but I left because I found the pictures. I was afraid Connor would be his next victim."
Angel nodded, more to himself than in response to her words. "Okay. I need to know another thing. I want to know if Steve is the reason you were determined to make me Connor's father?"
"Yeah," she confessed, feeling something akin to shame colour her face. "If Connor's biological father was around, Steve would never have a change to get to Connor. Especially if like in your case I never informed you of your fatherhood. You never got the chance to sign over your parental rights. Which means that as soon as you knew you could claim your son. Legally." She finally touched his arm, hoping for understanding, "I am dying, Liam. I need my son to be cared for. If you are not his father, then Steve will get him after my death. I can't let that happen. I can't."
She let go of him and turned away, tears rolling down her cheeks, a sob threatening to break out.
Angel watched her back, small and fragile, and a memory came to his mind of a twenty seven year old Darla, beautiful and vibrant, laughing in his arms, her eyes shining. Pinching the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, he asked, "You must have known this would come out sooner or later. The fact that two men could be his father."
Darla shook her head, looked at him over her shoulder, "I wasn't thinking. I just hoped you wouldn't question it. He looks so much like you," she almost smiled, "But I didn't count on Buffy." Now she had to laugh, "Woman are always smarter than men. And a lot more suspicious of members of their own sex."
"They are," Cordelia agreed, grinning slightly when Gunn huffed at her. "Okay, now that we know the truth," she gave Darla a long look, before taking a deep breath, "The question is what are we going to do now?"
Part 12
There was Brad who had lost his leg after some little shit had put a bullet into his femoral artery. He was doing desk jobs now. And Irene who'd been hit by the car of a runaway. She would spent her life in a wheel chair. And those was only some of the stuff that happened to cops almost regularly.
"Honey, is there anything I can do for you?"
Kate jerked back to the present and looked into the friendly eyes of a nurse who looked at her expectantly. "Sorry," Kate forced a smile. "A friend of mine called me before. Buffy Sullivan?"
"Are you a relative?"
Kate flashed her badge, "She was attacked," she explained.
"She's our star patient tonight," the nurse replied.
"Is that so?" Kate asked not really interested, but used to doing small-talk with the staff. You never knew when you needed their help again.
"Uh-huh," the woman in white nodded. "She was just moved to room 308. It's-"
"-on the third floor." She waved at the nurse while walking towards the elevator, and added as a matter of explanation. "It's not my first visit here, you know."
No, the nurse thought. I bet it isn't.
*
Angel was the first who saw her when the elevator doors opened, but only because he'd been watching out for her. Darla was leaning against the wall, looking as if she would break down any moment. Under different circumstances Angel would have gone to her, but he just couldn't summon any compassion for the woman who had caused most of the mess in the first place.
Glancing sideways at Gunn and Cordelia who were busy making googly eyes at each other despite the situation, Angel met Kate half-way, "Hey," he greeted her, feeling a lot better around her these days. He'd always been uncomfortable before, noticing that she had more than just a friendly interest in him. But ever since he and Buffy had gotten serious, Kate had obviously realised that any romantic interest in the PI was in vain and had backed away.
"Hey back," she replied, feeling a tiny pang of regret that nothing had ever happened between them. It was not her fault. She had tried her best to awaken his interest, but Liam hadn't returned it, and then he'd fallen hard and fast for his wife. Kate wanted to hate Buffy. Really, she'd tried her best - and had failed. Buffy was too nice, and she and Angel were so much in love you couldn't help admiring the striking couple they made. "So," she glanced quickly at the other three people who were still some distance away, "What is this about your son missing." She grinned, "I never even knew you had one. Liam, what have you been hiding from us?"
"Nothing," he said absentmindedly, not reacting to her friendly banter. "I just found out. Darla," he nodded towards the blond, "is an ex-girlfriend. She showed up a few days ago with my son. My ten year old son." He didn't tell her about the doubts regarding Connor's biological father. Couldn't. Not after what Darla had told them. Even though she had lied to him, Angel knew without a doubt that the things she'd said about her ex-husband were true. There had been so much despair in her eyes, and fear of what his step-father would do to Connor.
Kate let her gaze sweep up and down his form, "You certainly started off early."
Angel sighed, knowing that she only tried to be a good friend. But tonight he just wasn't up to this. "Yeah, well. Anyways. It was a big surprise. Darla is she has cancer. The doctors give her a year max. So she wanted me to take care of the kid." He looked down for a moment, then back up at her. "We had a meeting this morning about Connor and Buffy took him for an ice-cream. While they were gone, she was attacked and Connor taken."
"Oh God," Kate put a hand on his arm, "Is she okay?"
He nodded, "A minor concussion and a head wound. But she'll be released tomorrow."
"Good," Kate exhaled in relief. "And someone took the boy?"
"Yeah," he took her arm and led her towards the other people, "You remember Gunn," Angel said, then pointed at the brunette beside him, "this is Cordelia. You have seen each other at the wedding. And this is Darla." He stopped in front of the blond. "She says that her ex-husband took Connor. And she told us that he has a thing for boys."
The cop raised a brow, suppressing a shudder, "You mean he is a child molester?"
"I'm afraid, yeah," Darla replied, trying to figure out what kind of person this woman was. She would bet she had the hots for Angel. They way the cop's eyes changed colour whenever they rested on the PI was a dead give-away. Well, she couldn't blame the other woman. She'd felt that way too, after all - still did. But that wasn't what's important right now. Connor. Connor and his well-being was all that counted. "And I have not the slightest idea where he might have taken my son."
"Our son," Angel amended gently, finally able to put a hand on Darla's shoulder. He saw her eyes flickering towards him with gratefulness.
"I see," Kate pulled out her cell, and while she was already pinching the numbers, she said, "We need to talk to Buffy. She was there after all. You think she'll be up to it."
"Yeah," Angel replied, "I think that's okay. The doc said she could have visitors for short periods."
"Good," Kate nodded, then listened to the voice on the other end of the line, "Hey Garrison, it's Lockley. Give out a code red. We are searching for a guy called," she looked up at Darla.
"Steven Gardiner."
"Steven Gardiner," Kate repeated the name. "Description?" Once again she gazed at Darla.
"Early forties, six-two, blond hair, shaggy, blue eyes, dresses expensively and travels with bodyguards," she told the cop.
Kate repeated the description to her colleague. "Has a kid wit him. Called Connor, ten years." She took a picture, Darla handed her, "Dark hair, dark eyes." Covering the mouth piece she asked, "What's he wearing?"
"Denims, running shoes, a blue sweater, waterproof jacket - also blue," Darla told her, suppressing a sob. God, her baby was missing. She couldn't think about all the things Steve might do to him right now.
Once again Kate repeated the information to the other end of the line, then listened, "Yeah oh, yeah? Well, that makes it easier. Find judge Reynolds. She's yes, that's what I thought. Thanks Garrison. Call me if will do. Thanks."
Angel watched her stuffing her phone back into her pocket, "Judge Reynolds? The one who handled the trial that was on the news for months?"
"The very same," Kate replied.
"I'm sure she has a big heart for all the child molesters in the universe," Gunn said sarcastically. "You think she's going to issue a warrant for arrest for you?"
"I'm sure she will be pleased," the police officer wore a slight smile. "She's still pissed that the last one got away. He was guilty as sin, but that asshole of attorney knew all the tricks. Damn him."
They all remembered the big child molesting case that had filled the papers and news for months. A father was accused of having abused his two daughters and son over the period of three years. The daughter, now in her thirties had finally found the courage to go to the police. The trial had been long and painful, and unfortunately the father had had a clever attorney who had obviously been able to impress the jury. In the end the father had gotten off free for lack of evidence.
Kate sighed, "I gave them the description. And now," she looked at Angel, "let's go talk to your wife."
Gunn cleared his throat behind them. "I think I should hit on some of my contacts. Maybe one of them has heard something."
"Good idea," Angel nodded. "What about you?" he looked at Cordelia.
"I'll go back to the office. I suppose the firm doesn't even know that Buffy won't be coming in for a while."
"Right," Angel smiled at her gratefully. "Thanks. She might be able to go home tomorrow, but that doesn't mean she can work."
"Fine," Kate's gaze swept over all of them, "Gunn, if you hear anything, contact me."
"Done," he waved at her, reached for Cordelia's hand and the couple left. Not bothering to look at Darla, Angel followed the cop to Buffy's room.
*
Buffy was still pale but to Angel's relief she looked a lot better than the last time he'd seen her. They had moved her to her room a few minutes ago, and she was looking at them with a smile when Kate entered behind him. "Hey," she greeted them. "Kate, it's good to see you."
"Same for me," the cop replied, "though I wish-"
"Me too," Buffy cut her off, touching the bandage on her forehead, "Believe me, I can imagine nicer things than being hit on the head."
"Are you still in pain?" Angel rushed to her side, concern darkening his eyes, and took her hand, "I can get the nurse to-"
"No," she interrupted him gently. "I'm fine. She already offered me pain killers. But I refused. It's bearable and I don't want drugs in my system if it isn't necessary. Squeezing his hand, she turned to Kate, "I suppose you came to talk about Connors abduction?"
"Yeah. Angel said he already told you about the boy's step-father."
Buffy nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly, "I could hardly believe it. Just to imagine what this man could do to the kid. Connor is such a great boy."
Kate raised a brow, "A lot like his dad, huh?"
The other blond smiled, "Yeah. A lot. Unfortunately," she went on, "there isn't a lot I can tell you. We were walking down the street when a car suddenly stopped beside us and two men jumped out. One took Connor and when I tried to help him the other hit me."
"What kind of car?" Kate asked.
"Black, foreign model. Maybe a BMW, but I'm not completely sure. Expensive. Tainted windows. There was a third man in the back. But I saw only his legs, "she gave the cop an apologetic smile, "Sorry."
"You're doing great, love," Angel assured her kissing her palm. "Sure you are okay?"
"Stop worrying," she scolded him gently, "I'm fine."
"And the two men you saw?" Kate wanted to know.
"Both big, muscled. Wore long coats, dark. Sunglasses." She closed her eyes, "Ray-Bans. The one who took Connor had Ray-Bans. One was dark haired, the other dirty blonde. Both more than six feet. When I first saw them, I thought I was waking up in some bad Mafia thriller."
The cop nodded, "Fine. The description is very good. Still, I don't want to get your hopes up. But a colleague I talked to before said that he found Steven Gardiner in our computer. Seems the guy has had problems with the law before." She grinned, "Another reason for Judge Reynolds to give us the warrant."
"How are the chances to get Connor before his step-father can harm him?" Buffy asked, holding on to Angel's hand. She knew Connor only for a few days, but somehow she had already formed a bond with the smart little boy, had already imagined how it would be to have him live with them. She tried not to think about what would happen if Angel wasn't Connor's father after all, or if Steven Gardiner succeeded with his plan.
"To tell the truth, I don't know. But I would think that the boy is safe with him for now. I mean, sure, this man is a pervert. But from experience in cases like this, the adult rarely touches the child at the beginning. They usually wait for a few days until the kid is comfortable around them. If you ask me, it's sick. But right now it's our only hope. We will do our best to get him back, but even the best case scenario needs time."
"Darla says that Connor loves Steve. Maybe he won't be too scared," Buffy said, not sure if she needed to hear it or Angel. She had to remind herself that so far Steven Gardiner had been nothing to the boy than his step-father, a man who had taken him to little league games. A man who was the closest to a father Connor had known. Maybe that would keep the boy safe - at least for the time being. Maybe it would keep Steven Gardiner from hurting the kid. It wasn't much, but it was all they had. It was hope.
Part 13
Forty-eight hours later the hope was wearing thin. Gunn's contacts had produced nothing helpful, Kate Lockley and the police hadn't found a single trace. Angel had talked to everyone he knew, had called in all favors - and still nothing.
Buffy who had been released from the hospital the night before - but who was not allowed back to work for another week - was in the kitchen making coffee, glad to keep herself busy somehow, and not - like Darla - be condemned to stare at the phone praying for it to ring, but at the same time jumping out of her skin when it did.
"You shouldn't be on your feet all the time so soon. The doctor said you still need a lot of rest."
Buffy was arranging mugs on a tray and put the last one down, before she turned to look at him. She could see the worry in his eyes and knew he was afraid she might overdo and risk a setback. "I feel fine," she assured him. "No headache. And the stitches don't hurt at all." It was only a small lie, because they didn't hurt, not really anyway, and he sure as hell didn't need to worry about her, too.
He pushed himself off of the doorway, he'd been standing at, and walked towards her. Reaching out and hand, he touched the bruise on her forehead with gentle fingertips, "You still look pale."
Catching his hand in hers, she pressed it against her cheek. "I know you worry, Angel. But you shouldn't waste your energy on me. I might still look pale, but I'm fine. I promise, the moment it changes, I'll tell you."
Not quite convinced by her words, but determined to take her as a good example, he smiled slightly, "Energy spent on you is never wasted. You should know that. And Connor," Angel felt the smile slip from his face, "Whatever we're trying, we're only hitting dead ends so far."
"But what about the idea with the news?" Buffy asked, referring to Kate's idea of involving the public. "I think it's a good idea for Darla to go on the news and ask people for help."
He let his hand fall away from her face, then ran it through his hair. "It's a chance, sure," he admitted. "But I have a feeling it's only a small one. In fact, I don't believe in it. If what Darla told us about her ex is true - and despite her other lies I'm tempted to believe her in this - he's probably long gone. The guy is filthy rich, has contacts everywhere. He could already be out of the country - without us even knowing it. Damn." His flat palm slammed against the wall.
"Angel." He sighed when he felt her hand on his shoulder, heard her voice soft with love and compassion. "You can't give up. Not so soon."
"I'm not giving up," he said. "I know there's still a chance to get him. But this is driving me crazy. And all for a woman who had no scruples going from son to father in one night." He shook his head, then took a deep breath when he felt Buffy's arms slip around his waist from behind and her head come lying against his back, the warmth of her skin suffusing his shirt, giving him comfort and strength like nothing else could.
"This isn't about Darla," Buffy whispered, "If it was just about her, I'd be the first to throw her out. But it's Connor's life we're talking about. So what if he isn't your son? Then - at last - he's your little brother. Either way, you're responsible for him. No, let me rephrase that. *We* are."
"God, I love you," he groaned, covering her hands with his, pulling her arms even tighter around himself.
"I know." Angel could hear the smile in her voice, and wondered how he'd ever go through this without her. He might have gone crazy by now if it wasn't for her unwavering support.
"While I was staying in the hospital," she said, "I was talking to one of the doctors and he told me that genetic evaluation is a lot more exact these days. It'll be easy to find out if you're Connor's dad or not as soon as we find him."
"Yeah," he agreed, having asked the doctors already himself. He just hoped that he'd still have a chance to find out - that Connor would still be the happy little boy when they finally found him.
***
"Just eat, damn it."
Connor looked up from the strangely smelling box, meeting his step-father's angry eyes with a stubborn frown of his own. "I don't like Chinese food. You know that."
"Yes, well," Steve ran a hand through his hair, remembering the certain look on the boy's face. Connor had grown up and grown beautiful, but his stubbornness had increased, too. "I thought you'd finally grown out of this annoying habit. Chinese food is perfectly fine. It's from one of the most expensive restaurants in the city. It costs a fortune. So you either eat it or you'll go to bed hungry."
Not quite sure what to think of the man's mood, it had been several years after all since Connor had seen his step-father, the boy sighed, "It smells kind of funny. It makes me nauseous. What if I'm allergic to one of the contents? You know I'm allergic to a lot of things."
A strange glimmer entered Steve's eyes. Connor had been sure he'd remembered them, but right now he wasn't anymore. They looked strange, different somehow. The boy had been convinced they were green, now he realized they were more blue. He wondered what other things he'd forgotten about the man he'd once admired. To tell the truth, his step-father was scaring him a little. He was watching Connor all the time, yesterday night Steven had even come into the bathroom with him. Only after Connor had refused to use the toilet with him present - he was *not* going to do that in front of his step-father - the man had left. Connor had forgotten about it - but now he remembered - and started to wonder what it meant.
"Yes, I remember. You were allergic to Aspirin, right?" Steve also remembered that Connor had looked promising even as a kid. Promising in a lot of ways, he thought, licking his lips. The boy had always been bright, a good ballplayer, a son to make a father proud. Unfortunately Darla had taken the kid away before their bond had had a chance to strengthen. And all because she'd found some old pictures showing Steve with boys the age Connor was now. He'd tried to explain, tried to reason with her, but two days later, Darla and the kid were gone. The divorce papers had arrived three weeks later, with a letter from her attorney that she had copies of the pictures in a safe somewhere and would use them if he refused to give up all parental rights for Connor.
"And peaches, and seafood, and full fat milk lots of stuff. Mom had it all tested when we were living with you. How can you not remember?" What else had Steve forgotten? What about all the times he'd come to Connor's little league games? The man had been standing at the side, cheering him on, yelling at the coach and the referees. Connor had been so proud then. Had his step-father forgotten that, too?
Steve sighed and ruffled Connor's hair. The boy wrinkled his nose in disgust. He hated when people did that. "I'm sorry," the man said and it sounded honest. "You wouldn't believe how long I've been searching for you. But your mother, the old bitch, hid you well." The moment the words were out of his mouth, Steve knew they were a fault. But he really hated Darla for taking the boy away, and it was too late to take them back now anyway.
Connor jerked away from his step-father's touch, his whole body shaking with anger, as he stared up at the man. "Don't you ever call my mom that," he shouted, "Mike Donnelly did it, and he had a blue eye for days." The boy's hands curled into fists, clenching at his sides, daring Steve to repeat what he'd said before.
Looking at the fierce _expression in his step-son's eyes, Steve felt a rush of pride. Connor was as close as he'd ever come to having a kid of his own. He had tried to have one with his second wife, two years after Darla had left, but then the doctors had found out that he was sterile. It had been like a blow in the gut. Sterile. Not able to have kids of his own. Kelly had left him a year later and that's when he'd started searching for Darla and Connor. He might have given up his parental rights, but he was still powerful enough to find the only kid he'd ever known.
"I'm sorry, son," he said finally, hating the flatness in his own voice. He'd never been a good liar. And even though Connor seemed to love his mother, Steve was still convinced that she was a bitch. A lying, cheating bitch.
Connor narrowed his eyes, "I'm not your son," the boy shouted. Then, his voice slightly less loud, he went on. "Liam is my father. Mom said so. And I want M-mom." He hated the way his voice quivered at the end, didn't want Steve to see how scared he was. He wasn't a cry-baby, he thought, rising his chin stubbornly. "You said this was only for a few days. A few days are over now. And I want back to Mom. She is ill. She needs me. And I just met my d-dad."
"Your - dad?" Darla had never mentioned Connor's natural father. Not once during their marriage she had talked about the man. The only time Steve had asked, she'd distracted him with sex, and later the subject had never come up again. It wasn't important anyway. Then. Connor's father was nothing like an abstract image. Nothing important.
Now the situation had changed.
"Yes." The chin came up another notch.
And then the other words sank in, "Ill? Your mother is ill?"
As soon as the question was asked, Steve could see Connor close down. A shuttered look came over his eyes, and he turned his head away, before he shrugged. "Yeah."
"Serious?" Steve tried to keep his voice neutral, even though he hated surprises. A father was one thing he hadn't counted on. And now Darla was sick?
"Not really," Connor replied. But he was only ten years old and certainly not a good liar, either.
Realizing that he wouldn't get any answers tonight, Steven sighed, and with a last glance at Connor, walked out of the room, hoping that with time Connor would see what a good father he could be. And that not having Darla in his life wasn't that great of a loss.
***
"I wish the damn phone would just ring," Darla said, her voice bordering on panic.
Cordelia continued to gaze out of the window of Angel's and Buffy's house, trying to block out the voices in the back. Darla's whining was bad enough, but combined with the compassionate noises Fred made in regular intervals the two woman were driving her slowly insane.
And sure as rain, Fred's voice was to be heard next. "It will," the little brunette said. Cordelia wouldn't have been surprised if Fred's hand was covering Darla's once again. "The police is a lot better than you might think. And Gunn is out there, too."
She said it as if the fact alone would solve all problems of the universe. Gunn - the hero in shining armor. Only, he wasn't Fred's hero in shining armor. He was Cordelia's - and the faster the Texas girl accepted it, the better. She and Gunn were going to get married soon, and Fred could find her soulmate somewhere else. Still, the adoration Cordelia heard in the other woman's voice was testing her patience. Not that she had a lot left anyway.
And who would blame her, she thought. She wanted to see the woman who'd take it too kindly that another one was making googly eyes at her lover.
"Here, coffee for everyone," Buffy announced when she came back into the living room. Angel was carrying the tray and placed it on the table. It was sweet, really, to see Angel hover over his wife, who still looked a little pale, but seemed fine beyond that. Cordelia wondered if Gunn would act the same way if she was in Buffy's place, then dismissed the thought. She wasn't sure if she'd would even like being treated like easily breaking porcelain. Not that Buffy was really that fragile. Still, the blonde appeared that way - even if she didn't want to. There had been times when Cordelia had envied the effect it had on men. But that was before Buffy had hooked up with that boring idiot Riley and long before Cordelia had found her own prince charming - even though he was an ex-street kid and almost ten years her junior. But who counted when love and passion were strong, so strong, Cordelia had a hard time thinking straight sometimes.
And from the look in his eyes, Gunn felt it, too.
"Cordy?"
She turned and smiled at Angel who was holding a mug out for her. "For you."
Cordelia grimaced, "I'd love to, but no, thanks."
She saw him raising a brow, but he didn't comment. Instead he put the mug down beside her. "Just in case you change your mind. I wanted to thank you."
"Me?"
"For staying with Darla. I know she can be a little difficult. But I think she needs a friend right now."
A friend? Hardly. One thing Cordelia knew for certain, was that she and blonde would never be friends. But she also knew that right now wasn't the time for discussions of any kind. Buffy and Angel were going through hell already. And she was not going to add her own problems. "No problem." And she was really hoping she wouldn't be punished for the next lie some day. "She isn't that bad."
"Thanks anyway," he replied, sipping from his own coffee, before his gaze - once again - darted to his wife. "Does she seem alright for you?"
"Buffy? Sure. Angel, she's a lot stronger than you think." Cordelia chuckled.
"I know," he sighed and ran a hand over his tired face. He knew he was letting his fantasy run wild. But seeing Buffy on the examination table, the blood running down the side on her face he wouldn't be able to forgot those images as long as he lived. They'd always haunt him. "I'm just tired, I suppose," he added.
"Nobody blames you. Buffy certainly doesn't. It's pretty tough, finding out you've got a kid, only to lose it the next moment. I gotta say, I'm impressed by the way you both are holding up." And frankly, she was even more impressed by the easiness with which Buffy had accepted Angel's son. Cordelia wasn't sure if she'd be able to be such a good sport. True, Buffy hadn't been in the picture when Connor had been produced, but it still had to hurt to find out that you would never have the pleasure to place the first child in your husband's arms.
"Yeah, tough," he echoed, his voice blank. She didn't even know how tough. Angel didn't know why it mattered so much. But it did. Either way, Connor was his relative. Brother or son - it shouldn't make a difference, but it did. As did the fact that Darla had gone and slept with his father. Not because she still mattered to him. He had once thought he'd loved her, but knowing what he did today, experiencing a sort of love with Buffy he'd never known it could exist, he very much doubted he ever had. What hurt was the betrayal, the lies, and maybe the way she had destroyed the fond memories he'd still harboured deep inside.
Determined to get his - and her own - mind away from the present situation, Cordelia changed the subject, "How is Kathie these days?"
Angel needed a moment to pull his mind away from heavy thoughts and to lighter ones, but when he managed the step, he felt his spirits rise, and the smile returned on his face, "She's fine. In fact, she's great. She glows. I heard about it, but I never thought it was true. Until I saw my sister changing with pregnancy."
Would she glow? Cordelia wondered. She sometimes did, but only when she forgot applying make-up. And would Gunn even notice? He sure wasn't the romantic type, even though he'd been nothing but sweet so far. "And Wes?"
"The proud papa," he told her, grinning now. "He's to tell the truth, it's sickening sometimes. The way he jumps at every noise she makes. Last time I saw her she told me that he always wakes up when she turns in bed, asking if it was starting already." He chuckled, "They are so happy together - it's wonderful to watch."
"I never would've guessed that she and Wes," Cordelia sighed wistfully, "He's so stiff and kind of English?" She sighed again. "Who knows. But I suppose there have to be hidden depth if Kathie fell for him."
"He's a great guy once you get to know him," Angel defended his brother-in-law. He'd long come to appreciate his sister's husband. Wesley was steady as a rock, he was dependable, loved his wife dearly, and Angel had also discovered a very fine sense of humor in the other man. All in all, he'd come to the conclusion that his sister couldn't have chose a better one.
"I guess," the brunette gave him a smile. She was sure Angel was right. Wesley simply wasn't her type. But that was good - she'd found her type and she was happy. Or wasn't she? If she was happy, why did she still feel those nagging doubts. They simply wouldn't shut up ever since Gunn had popped the question and she'd said yes. Was it because of what had happened with Connor? Was it the fact that she had suddenly realised that there wasn't endless happiness in the book?
"Hey."
She looked up at the sound of Buffy's voice and saw her boss and friend standing in front of her, Angel's arm lying almost unconsciously around her shoulder. Would she ever find that kind of easy acceptance with Gunn? Gunn might - but could she? She was thirty-six years old, and yeah, she'd had her share of lovers - maybe even more. But so far she'd lived on her own, had always returned to her own apartment, her own space. Was she really ready to share her life now? And with a guy of twenty-six? Well, twenty-seven, but who counted?
"If Kate doesn't call until four," Angel informed his wife, "I'm going to leave. There's one contact I haven't tried to far." When he saw the question in her eyes, he sighed, "I didn't think it was worth the effort, but now maybe I'm grasping for straws, but "
"Better to-," Buffy started but wasn't able to finish, because suddenly Angel's cell phone started to ring.
Everyone froze at the sound, then, his movements controlled, and yet jerky, Angel pulled it from his pocket and answered. "Yeah? Yes, I've been I see " his eyes met Buffy's, needing the contact, the silent support they were always giving him, "and it is sure? No mistakes possible? Yeah," he blew out a breath, feeling relief so great, his knees were going weak, "Thanks. Thanks for calling. Yes, I'll meet you in an hour."
He turned the phone off, and stuffing it back into his pocket, he looked at his wife, but the news were for all of them. "That was Gunn. Seems one of the guys he's been seeing today finally is a winner. He is pretty sure that Connor never left town. Which means they're still around." Needing more than just eye-contact, he wrapped his arms around his wife, "Maybe that's what we've all been waiting for. The breakthrough we're all been hoping to have." His eyes met Darla's for a moment, and for that very short moment he forgot all his resentments, only saw what was in front of him, a mother, desperately hoping that her child was okay.
"Y-you mean," she swallowed hard, her voice wobbly, "You've got a trace?"
He could almost see the way she tried to squash the hope down, but failing miserably. Tightening his arms around Buffy, he nodded, "Yes, it sure seems that way. I'm going to meet Gunn in an hour. He's informing Kate as we speak. If we're lucky, Connor'll be back by nightfall."
And he prayed - in a way he never had before - that he would be able to keep this promise.
to be continued
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