by Jill
Disclaimer: let me check ... nope, still don't own them. Sigh! I'm not making any money off this. Several lines in this are taken from the Buffy-season-6-episode “Gone”. The episode was written by David Fury.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: B/A (strong in this part!), and the usual pairings from the show
Distribution: my site (http://www.never-ending-love.de), Land of Denial, if you have any of my stories, take it; anybody else tell me where it goes
Timeline: This is set into canon, in an attempt to make the whole series more B/A-friendly. Well at least it started out like this. As B/A are together now, I was forced to make some changes. You'll see them as soon as you read the story.
Spoilers: the whole B/A-canon to be sure, follows loosely “Midnight Angel”,“Midnight Whispers”, “Midnight Rainbow”, “Midnight Hour”, “Midnight Memory”, “Midnight Protector”, “Midnight Letter”, “Midnight Encounters”, “Midnight Eyes, “Midnight Lovers”, “Midnight Kiss”, “Midnight Song”, “Midnight Rose”, “Midnight Velvet”, “Midnight Sun”, “Midnight Shade”, “Midnight Secrets”, “Midnight Star”, “Midnight Dance”, “Midnight Wind”, “Midnight Storm”, “Midnight Fire”, “Midnight Breath”, “Midnight Wishes”, and “Midnight Sky”. You should probably read it to understand this. And you should have seen season 6/3 or at least read the transcripts (http://www.psyche.kn-bremen.de), or you won't know what they're talking about.
Summary: Buffy, Angel, and Connor go to Sunnydale. And they are not alone.
Feedback: oh yes, please
Dedication: To the great Babblers! You always make my day!!!
NOTE: This story replaces “Gone”. Personally I thought the episode was lame. I changed a lot for my sake. I used the invisible thing as back-story, but in my story it's different. You'll see as soon as you read it. Hope you'll enjoy.
*****
“I still can't believe I let you talk me into this.” Angel frowned slightly, but kept his eyes on the road.
“I needed to check on Dawn,” Buffy replied, casting a glance at Connor who was sleeping in the backseat. “I know you understand that.”
He followed her eyes and sighed, “Yes, I do. Still, I don't like you so close to Spike. Besides Dawn could have come to L.A.” “I don't like it either. But Dawn needs to go to school and I've stayed away far too long already. And according to Will and Dawn Spike's okay. I mean he's lurking around a lot, but he didn't do anything.”
“I think he already did enough,” Angel said darkly, a scowl forming on his handsome face. “I should have staked him long ago. I don't know what held me back.”
“Yes. Actually I've been asking myself the same question repeatedly,” Cordelia cut in from her spot beside Connor on the backseat. “Especially after he tortured you with hot pokers ...,” she trailed off, realising that Buffy had never heard that story.
“Excuse me?,” the blond asked, her eyes wide. “When did this happen?”
He sighed again, “It was a long time ago.”
“About two years,” the brunette was eager to report. “He came for that ring. You sent it, remember. And he kidnapped Angel, had him tortured with hot pokers. He looked worse for fear when we finally found him.”
Buffy stared at Angel, who kept his eyes on the road, not a muscle moving in his face. “Why didn't you ever tell me?,” she asked, her voice strained.
“It wasn't really important,” he replied evasively.
“Not important?,” she asked, her voice rising. “Not important? It was my fault he came after you and-,” she stopped herself, stunned by her sudden insight. “That's why you didn't tell me, right? You didn't want me to feel guilty.”
“Buffy-”
“No,” she interrupted him sharply. “Dammit, Angel. When will you finally stop protecting me. I'm a big girl. You can't keep these things from me.”
“I didn't,” he said firmly. “Honestly. Buffy, I already forgot about it.”
“I didn't,” Cordelia snapped from the backseat. “I was just starting to work for you, and I didn't care very much for losing my boss that early.”
“Thanks so much for your compassion.” Angel's voice was full of sarcasm.
The brunette grinned at him, then reached out to stroke Connor's belly, when the boy had started to fuss. “I think he's going to get your forehead. Looks kinda protruding already.”
Buffy giggled and Angel scowled at the women, while he unconsciously rubbed the mentioned bodypart. “Is he okay?,” he asked.
Cordelia sighed dramatically, “Sure he is. Angel he's fed, and you changed his diaper before we left. He might actually be able to live without your healing touch for two hours. Besides,” she grinned again, “As I see it, his favourite person is Buffy. Seems he developed a thing for her already. Like father, like son.”
“I can't blame him for that.” The vampire glances sideways and let his eyes linger appreciatively on Buffy for a moment.
“Don't I know it.” Cordelia sighed, then chuckled slightly, glancing back at the baby, who had fallen asleep again.
“You find your prince charming soon enough,” Buffy said encouragingly. “You'll see.”
“I don't think so.” The brunette scrunched her face. “I mean, there aren't that many men around who would put up with a girl who might fall into her plate once a vision hits her.”
Angel looked at her through the rear mirror, “It only happened once.”
“And that's enough. And how am I going to explain it? Sorry, honey, but I get visions from the Powers? Can I say mental case? Not to forget the fact that I can never talk about work. You know what? It was a wonderful day at work. We killed some demons, and the vampire I work with didn't brood more than two hours.”
“I don't brood that much anymore.” “Yes, you do. But that's not the point. No normal-Joe would understand my life. I can hardly understand it myself. Oh. Oh, and not to forget that there's an invisible ghost living in my apartment. Who can get a teensy bit jealous sometimes.”
Buffy raised her brows, “You live with a ghost?”
“Uh-huh,” Cordelia nodded. “Dennis. He came with the apartment. He's nice, most of the time. But sometimes ...,” she trailed off, sighed.
“He saved your life when you were kidnapped,” Angel reminded her.
“Yeah, I know,” she sighed again. “I like him, really. Still, he's just one more proof that I will never have a normal life.”
Buffy shot her a grin, “Welcome to my world.”
“I know, I know, I'm not the only one.” Cordelia leaned forward, resting one elbow on each seat, her forearms dangling between Buffy and Angel. “It's like living this big freak-show. To think I was once the daughter of rich parents, determined to become a Hollywood actress. And now I'm getting visions, and am working with a vampire who will probably get evicted soon.”
While Angel shot her a dark look, Buffy's head snapped around, “Evicted?”
“Uh-oh,” the brunette blushed, retreating into the back again.
“Evicted?” Buffy directed her gaze towards Angel.
“It sound worse than it is. It's just a new thing Wolfram & Hart have cooked up for us. They couldn't beat me through Darla and now they're trying to get us out of the hotel. Legally.”
“Not bad?,” the blond glared at the vampire. “It sounds pretty bad to me.” “It isn't,” Angel insisted. “I asked a friend who owns a software company and his lawyers are checking the whole thing. I'm sure it'll be cleared up in no time.”
“You contacted David Nebitt without telling me?” Cordelia's head appeared between Buffy and Angel again.
The vampire rolled his eyes, “Yes, Cordy. From time to time I even allow myself to call people without talking to you first.”
The brunette gave him the evil eye, sunk back into the back seat.
“Okay, so that Nebitt-guy is going to take care of it?,” Buffy wanted to know.
“He promised to talk to his lawyers. They'll get back to me as soon as they have news. Can we please change the subject now?,” he asked.
“Sure,” Buffy nodded, content for now with the answers he'd given her.
“By the way,” Cordelia announced from the back seat. “I really like your new hair.”
The blond grinned, “Thanks. Angel says he likes it, too.”
The brunette rolled her eyes, “Figures.”
They all laughed when they passed the Sunnydale sign.
*
Stifling a yawn, Buffy entered the kitchen at eight o'clock in the morning, humming slightly to herself when she saw Willow standing at stove. “Hey,” she greeted the redhead.
Looking up from the omelet she was cooking, the witch smiled a bit uncertainly, “Hey. When did you get here?”
“Last night,” Buffy replied. “With Angel only being able to drive in the dark and all.”
“Right. I didn't hear you coming.”
“We were really quiet. Even Cordy didn't make a sound.”
“Uh-huh,” Willow nodded, turning the omelet. “I saw her sleeping on the sofa in the living-room.” She paused, bit her lower lip, “So ... uh ... Angel came with you?”
Seeing her friends inquiring look, Buffy felt uncomfortable. Nobody besides Angel knew about the whole mess with Spike, the real reason Angel wouldn't let her out of his sight. “Yes. He thought it was a nice change,” she lied, then added, “We brought Connor,” hoping it would distract her friend.
It worked. “Oh, Connor,” Willow exclaimed excitedly. “I'm sure he's grown already.”
Glad with the change of subject, Buffy smiled, “Yes. He's a great baby.” The smile turned into a grin, “Listen to me. I can't believe I'm actually talking about babies.”
The redhead grinned, too, pointed at the Slayer's stomach. “I'm not surprised.”
They both laughed. Then Buffy grew serious again, “How are you doing?”
“I'm okay.” Willow frowned slightly, “Not ready to head back to classes, face the world okay, but ... better. I've been staying away from magic ... uh ... well, after we came back from L.A. I'm not shaky anymore, and I can spend a whole day not thinking about magic.”
They both turned their heads when the door opened and Dawn sauntered into the kitchen. She frowned when she saw her sister standing with Willow. “When did you get here?”
“Tonight.”
The teenager nodded, walked towards the stove, “You cooking?”
“Yeah,” Willow replied, reaching for a plate. “You want?”
“I was concerned about you,” Buffy said, irritated by her sister's behaviour. Dawn hadn't even said 'hi'.
“I'm not hungry.” Dawn turned away from the stove, making eye-contact with her sister for the first time. “So you finally remembered I was here.”
The Slayer flinched, but recovered quickly, “I never forgot you were here. I had some ... uh ... problems to work through.”
“Problems?,” Dawn shrugged, “Okay.” She turned and left the kitchen.
“Okay,” Willow pushed the omelet on the plate, “I deserve the wrath of Dawn, but ... she was okay with me. Why is she taking it out on you? Why now? She was okay in L.A.”
Buffy shrugged much the same way her sister had before, “Who knows. I think she feels neglected.” She sighed, “Only now I begin to understand what Mom was going through all the time. I wasn't a nice teenager either.”
“Oh, Buffy-”
“No,” the Slayer held up a hand. “I wasn't nice. Anyways. I think Dawn's just a typical teenager.” Buffy wished she could tell her sister why she had avoided being in Sunnydale on her own. Why it had been so important for her to find her old self again. Why being with Angel helped her to get her life back on track. And why being around Spike wasn't a good idea. Dawn would never understand, and frankly, Buffy didn't have the slightest idea how to tell her, even if she could.
“Probably.” Willow didn't look convinced. “Do you want omelet?,” she asked, holding out the plate to Buffy.
Suddenly feeling nausea, the Slayer shook her head. “No, thanks.” Seeing the slightly greenish colour on her friend's face, the witch shoved the plate away quickly. “Sorry.”
“I'm okay. Just-”
She wasn't able to finish the sentence when the back door burst open, and a blanket covered shape entered the house, slammed the door shut and threw the blanket off.
“Spike?,” Willow raised a brow.
“Morning,” the vampire replied, his gaze fixing on the Slayer.
“What are you doing?,” she asked. “And here?”
“Just ... uh ... took a stroll. Found myself in your neck of the woods,” he answered, leaning against the isle. “So you're back.”
Ignoring his last comment, Buffy raised a brow of her own, “Couldn't find a less flammable time of day to take a stroll?”
“I heard you were around,” he said softly, his eyes travelling up and down her body. “Seems you had a good time in L.A. You look good.”
Feeling as if she was right in the middle of something she didn't belong to, Willow grabbed the plate with the omelet, “I ... uh ... I'm going to head back to my room. Eat this, then get dressed.” Before Buffy could say a word, she slipped from the room. The Slayer looked at the closed door for a moment, then sighed. She didn't like being alone with Spike, but unlike before he didn't make her nervous, and that made her feel better. “What do you want?,” she asked finally, turning back to Spike.
He eyed her speculatively, “Something is different with you. I don't know what, but something is.”
“Did you just come to bore me out of my mind,” she asked, reaching for a glass, “Because if it's the case, better get lost. I'm not in the mood.”
One of his brows rose, “No? I remember a night when your mood was,” the brow wiggled suggestively, “quite different, luv.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, suddenly feeling nothing but disgust at his presence. And it was a good feeling. Not to feel any sexual tension, not to feel attracted in any way. She'd felt in L.A., and now it was even easier to see. She wasn't completely back on track, but she felt better, more comfortable with herself, than she had ever since Willow brought her back. “Don't call me that,” she said, her voice holding a clear warning. “And don't follow me.”
“Nice,” he nodded at her new hairdo. “Looks ... different.”
“That's because I *am* different,” she replied. “Remember? You said I came back wrong, Spike.” Her eyes never leaving his, she stepped closer, “That's what you said, right? But you know what, your little games don't work anymore. I came back wrong? So what! I don't care. I'm still Buffy.”
With satisfaction she saw his eyes widen in disbelief. “Do you understand?,” she asked.
In a flash his confusion turned into anger, and he attacked. Pushing her against the isle, he pinned her between it and his body. She felt his arousal pressing into her stomach, but again it didn't confuse her, as it had some days ago. The only thing she felt was anger. And disgust. “Sweetheart,” his voice was soft like silk, one hand slipped over her hair, “Feels nice. I love your hair. Long. Short. I love it. I love-”
He wasn't able to finish, because suddenly she shoved him away with all her might and he found himself flying against the stove. “Hands off,” she warned, her eyes blazing.
Ignoring the pain in his back, he grinned, “Seems you have a thing for going rough, huh. Remember when you got all hot and wet in the old house-”
WHAM
He heard his nose crack before he felt the pain, and long before he realised she'd hit him. He felt the coppery taste of his own blood on his lips, and was about to grin, and get up when he felt a foot on his chest. “Don't even bother getting up,” her voice warned him.
He looked at her, and there was something in her eyes, something that hadn't been there before. “Slayer-”
“No,” she said firmly. “Don't try any games. It's over.”
“Over?” He managed to leer at her, not caring that his blood was running over his face. “It's never over, pet. Not by a long shot.”
“That's where you're wrong,” she replied, removed the foot from his ribcage. Giving him a last look, she turned towards the door, “Let yourself out. I don't want to see you when I come back later.”
Spike stared at her retreating back, watched in disbelief when she left the kitchen, not sparing him another glance. And suddenly he knew what he'd seen in her eyes that had been missing before.
It was confidence.
*
Angel looked up when the door opened and a smile spread across his face when Buffy stepped into the room. “Morning.”
“Morning yourself.” She saw Connor wide awake, one of his little hands wrapped tightly around the vampire's forefinger. “I see he's well.”
“Oh, yeah.” Angel grinned, picking up his tiny son. “He's good. I already changed his diaper. I fed and burped him. He's a happy boy this morning, aren't you?” He tickled the baby's stomach and Connor gurgled in delight.
Buffy laughed, “You hungry?,” she asked. “I saw some blood in the fridge.”
“No,” he shook his head. “I fed before we left last night. I'm fine. But you should eat.”
“Willow made an omelet, but it made my stomach act funny.” She rolled her eyes, “The joys of being pregnant. I suppose as I passed the nausea stuff while being dead and all, I'm getting it now. I'll eat something later. I'm not much of a morning eater anyway.” She sat down on the bed beside father and son, her face serious again. “Spike was here.”
“Here?,” instantly concern entered Angel's eyes. “In the morning?”
“Uh-huh. He used a blanket.” She shook her head. “I threw him out.”
Concern changed into relief, then amusement. “You did?”
“Yeah,” she smiled, a happy smile Angel noticed. The tension she'd been carrying around for so long, was gone. “I was good. Spike didn't know what hit him. Literally.”
“You hit him?,” he asked.
“Broke his nose,” she replied casually. “I didn't intend to. But I'm not sorry it happened. I think he got the message. This time.”
He reached out, squeezed her hand, “I love you.”
“I know,” she beamed at him. “I love you, too. I'm so glad you're here.” Suddenly she sighed, “And I wish this could be all I had to think about today, but ... I need to talk to Dawn.” She saw him raising a brow, and sighed again. “She's ... angry with me. Thinks I don't care for her. Holidays are coming up. Do you think we might be able to take her to L.A. with us for then?”
He liked the way she used the 'us'. “Sure. I own a hotel, after all. There's enough room. Invite whoever you want.”
She laughed, stood. “See you later.”
“Yeah. Good luck.”
She blew him a kiss before she left the room.
*
When Dawn was sulky she usually went to her room, sat on her bed, cross-legged, pretending she wasn't there. That was exactly how Buffy found her after she'd left Angel and Connor in her room. Dawn's eyes were closed, and some soft music was coming from the radio. Defninitely sulk time. “What do you want,” Dawn asked without bothering to open her eyes.
“Talk,” her sister replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I think we need to talk.”
In response Dawn crossed her arms in front of her chest, leaned back against her headboard, but didn't say a word.
Buffy sighed loudly, “Okay, what's this? Did you take a class in Chilly Disapproval 101?”
A frown appeared on her sister's forehead, but after a moment hesitation the teenager looked at her, then reached out to shut down the radio. “So, talk.”
“What do you think about a week in L.A.?”
Dawn's eyes lit up instantly, “With Dad?”
“No, not with Dad,” Buffy replied, hating to see her sister's face fall. “With Angel.”
A brow came up, “Suddenly feeling bad for deserting me?”
“Actually, yes,” Buffy admitted. And it was the truth. She felt bad for deserting Dawn, although leaving her with Willow wasn't actually deserting. Still, she had left Sunnydale. She didn't want to tell Dawn why it had been necessary, but maybe she couldn't avoid it anymore. She wouldn't let Spike come between them. She had taken the first step in showing him his place. Now she would take the next.
She reached out, put a hand on her sister's arm. “Dawnie, I'm sorry, but ... but I had to go.” She looked down, then back up, “There were problems I couldn't deal with ... it was ... about Spike.”
Dawn's eyes lit up with interest, “Spike?”
“Yes,” Buffy nodded. “I know you think he's your friend-”
“Hi *is* my friend,” her sister insisted.
The Slayer looked into the dark-haired girl's eyes for a long time, contemplating what to say next. She realised again how difficult her mother's task had been, dealing with a teenager who wouldn't listen to reason, who thought she knew everything about life and love. “I know,” she said finally. “But things happened ... Spike ... “
“Is it because of Angel?,” Dawn asked suddenly. “Because he and Spike don't get along?”
“No,” Buffy said quickly. The last thing she wanted was for Dawn to develop some kind of resentment against Angel. Spike really wasn't worth all that trouble. Damn him, damn him to hell. “This has nothing to do with Angel. Well,” she amended, “Maybe it has, but not the way you think.”
“Huh?”
“God, Dawnie, I don't know how to explain this. Mostly because I don't understand most of it myself. I'm still trying to come to terms with me being back, and ... being alive ... and now being pregnant on top of all this. I'm good now, most of the time, but in the beginning ... it was hard. Difficult. And although I loved Angel...,” she paused, ran a hand through her hair, surprised when it ended at her chin.
“I ... uh ... felt kind of ... attracted to Spike. It wasn't rational, you know. It just ... happened, and-”
“You slept with Spike?,” Dawn yelped, jumping away from her, staring at her in shock.
“NO.” Buffy stood, too, walked over to her sister, touched her shoulder. “No, but it came close. It was ... after I found out about Angel and Darla, and the baby. Nothing made sense anymore and I ... I was so tired ... so confused ... I didn't care anymore what I was doing and ...”
“So you didn't sleep with Spike?”
The Slayer shook her head, “No. No, I didn't.” And I'll be grateful for it all my life, she added silently. She didn't even want to think about the amount of disgust she'd have felt afterwards. “But ... Spike kept ... he was stalking me. Coming on to me. And I couldn't deal. So Angel thought ... He took me to L.A. And I'm glad, because I feel much better today.” Involuntarily the fist that had broken Spike's nose clenched and unclenched.
“Well, that's good, right?,” Dawn said, sitting down again. “I'm really glad you didn't sleep with Spike.”
“Why?” Buffy was instantly suspicious.
“He's my friend. I don't want to think about you and Spike,” she grimaced, “you know.”
“Not my favourite image either,” Buffy muttered, chuckled when she saw her sister grin. She wasn't happy about Spike and Dawn as friends, but she was wise enough to let it go for now. Maybe staying with Angel for a while would serve more than one purpose. “So how about a week in L.A.?”
“It's okay, I guess.”
“You'll see, it'll be fun. Angel promised me to give me his credit-card. We can go shopping.”
At that the first real grin appeared on Dawn's face. “Yeah? Oh man, I can hardly wait.”
Buffy smiled at her, hoping that Angel loved her enough to forgive her that lie.
*
“Okay, let me recall this,” Buffy said when they were sitting in the living-room together at night, sipping from the orange-juice Angel had placed in front of her, “Willow was invisible because those geeks shot her with some gun?”
“Uh-huh,” Dawn nodded emphatically.
“And you didn't tell me this, why?” Buffy looked around seeing only guilty faces gazing back at her.
“It's not that we wanted to keep this from you,” the redhead began.
“Not at all,” Xander chimed in, placing an arm around Anya's shoulders.
“You didn't want to,” the Slayer said bitingly, “but you did it nevertheless.”
She sighed when Angel's arm slipped around her shoulder, “Buffy,” he said gently, “Maybe you should let them explain first.”
“Fine,” she sighed again - loudly this time - “Explain.”
“We were totally cool,” Willow was clearly excited. “And I didn't even use magic. We did it the old way. Well, being invisible didn't hurt of course. It was kinda ... fun. I even managed to get the social services lady off your back.”
“Social services lady?” Buffy stared at her in shock. “What social services lady?”
“Ooops,” the redhead smiled sheepishly. “I forgot. She came here. Made some comments about you not being here and all. But I took care of it. I think you don't have to worry.”
“Uh-huh,” Buffy said, not the slightest bit convinced. But for the moment she let it go. “Anything else?” Before anyone could ask, she held up a hand, “No, don't tell me. I don't even want to know. At least not today.” She looked at Angel, “You think evil will wait until tomorrow?”
“See the bright side,” Cordelia chimed in, “I didn't have a vision the whole day. I'm starting to miss the headaches.”
They all laughed. Angel bent down and planted a kiss on Buffy's crown. Willow smiled at them, and Xander tightened his hold on his fiancée. Dawn leaned over Connor, grinned when he made funny noises. At least for tonight they would pretend everything was normal, and there wasn't evil waiting in front of the door.
*
Outside, under a tree stood a figure, the tip of his cigarette glowing in the dark. He inhaled the smoke, the blew it out slowly, watching the people inside while he did so. His eyes narrowed. Without taking his eyes off them, he threw down his butt, and stepped on it. Then he turned abruptly and faded into the night.
The End
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