TITLE: Anchor (Part 10/16)
AUTHOR: Kerry Blackwell
PAIRING: Genfic - B/S and X/A as on the show
RATING: R
SPOILERS: Through "Wrecked" on Buffy and "Dad" on Angel
TIMELINE: Imagine it's about six weeks after those episodes and the ones we saw didn't happen.
DISCLAIMER: All things Buffy and Angel belong to Joss Whedon, the WB, UPN, FOX and Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. I own only my genius (yeah, right!)
DISTRIBUTION: My site - White Hats - http://www.whitehats.co.nz (as soon as I'm well enough to code it and upload it) Any one else please ask first
FEEDBACK: Yes please!
THANKS: To Sarah for her editing assistance, and to Sarah and Ang for being ready to brainstorm with me when I begged appropriately.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I started this after seeing "Wrecked" and "Dad". My take on what could have happened next. It got totally Jossed immediately of course and since it takes me a long time to write anything, it got more and more AU as time went by. I had hoped to post it in the break, before anything _more_ happened, but I didn't manage it. Anyway, here it is. Just forget what happened after those two episodes and read my version. Please...

CHAPTER NOTE: "ahmic" is pronounced AH-vic and is about the only bit of IrishGaelic I know, having picked it up from a novel. It means "my son". (I think that's right.)

"Are you sure?" Giles asked, a furrow forming between his brows as he considered the ramifications of this new wrinkle in things.

"Of course I'm bloody sure," Spike retorted. A pause. "All right," he conceded reluctantly. "As sure as I can be, given I never met the bloke and he's supposed to have been dead for 250 years."

"Let me get this straight," Willow said slowly. "You saw someone who you think is this big vampire killer who was after Angel in the seventeen-hundreds?"

"And Darla," Spike reminded her. "They screwed him over right proper."

"And he's back?" Giles added.

"There's someone," Buffy said firmly. "I saw him too. He was with a couple of humans and a demon. And from what the demon said, they're after Rupert. Therefore they're bad news, whoever they are."

"Holtz," Spike repeated stubbornly.

"Tell me about the demon, Buffy." Giles ignored the vampire, moving automatically into research mode.

Buffy thought about it for a moment. "Average height, brown robe, scabby face. You know, demony."

"Very helpful," Giles muttered, low enough that he could argue he hadn't said anything at all if Buffy called him on the sarcasm. "Can you be a little more specific?"

"Ah…" Buffy was saved by the ringing of the doorbell. "I'll get it," she offered quickly, jumping up and disappearing before anyone could stop her.

"Chicken," Dawn commented into the silence, more because she couldn't pass up the opportunity to score against her sister than for any other reason.

Buffy was about to follow up with a snappy, Buffy-trademarked comeback when she saw who was standing on the other side of the door and stopped dead, reduced to shocked silence.

"Hello, Buffy," Angel said quietly.

Buffy stared, too surprised to say anything. He looked different from the last time she had seen him, those few months ago. She couldn't explain it, couldn't understand it, but he looked both more relaxed and more careworn than she had ever seen him. Both at the same time, which was quite crazy, but true all the same.

"Buffy?"

She blinked, finally finding her voice. "What are you doing here?"

"That's some kind of welcome," a new voice said with a touch of sarcasm, and Buffy looked up to see Cordelia walking up the steps, followed by Wesley and two others – a tall black man and a small woman – who had to be the two she had heard about but never met.

"Not now, Cordy." Angel flicked a glance at Cordelia that silenced her, and she shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest, staring at Buffy.

"All of you," Buffy managed weakly. "You're all here."

"I need your help," Angel said quietly, and there was such emotion, such desperation in his voice that all she could do was stand aside.

"Come in," she said simply.

She was surprised by the depth on relief on Angel's face as he stepped across the threshold, and she realised he had half expected he was no longer invited into her house. It was more of a shock to realise that the before-Rupert Buffy of a week ago probably would have wished she had taken that precaution. It would have been more than she could cope with.

The other four trooped into the house behind Angel, led not by Cordelia as Buffy would have imagined, but by Wesley. The long-haired girl with the boy's name Buffy couldn't remember gave her a nervous nod as she passed.

Buffy closed the door and led the way into the lounge, hoping they'd be prepared to sit on the floor, because she didn't have enough chairs for this many people.

Angel stopped abruptly in the archway, staring across the room in shock. It took Buffy a moment to realise he was looking at Spike. Despite the mess she had made of things, she'd grown used to seeing him around. Angel, though, was clearly stunned by the other vampire's presence.

_He's going be get more shocked,_ Buffy reflected. For all that this was Angel, she found she was looking forward to finding out what was going to happen next. For the first time, she understood Spike's delight in mischief for mischief's sake. She didn't approve of course – or at least, she _shouldn't_ approve, but she understood.

"Been trying to call you, Peaches," Spike drawled. "Saw an old friend of yours earlier tonight." There was the slightest of emphases on the 'old'.

Angel glared, quite unable to help himself.

"Who?" Wesley asked, and there was a quiet authority in his voice that none of the Sunnydale crowd had ever heard before. Giles looked up, studying the younger man thoughtfully.

Wesley was looking at Spike, his gaze steady and assessing. "William the Bloody, I presume," he said calmly. "Whom did you meet?"

"What are you doing here, Spike?" Angel demanded a fraction of a second later.

"Visiting," Spike returned in the same, almost insolent drawl he'd used before. "Got an open invite, you know." The expression in his eyes showed he'd heard Buffy ask the other vampire into the house.

"So does Angel," Buffy interjected instinctively. "We never uninvited him when he left."

The vampires continued to eye each other up and Buffy searched for a way to diffuse the tension. She was beaten to it.

"Can we stop with the macho vampire territory crap?" Cordelia interrupted. She laid a gentle hand on Angel's arm. "Angel. You came to ask Buffy to help find Connor. If you're not going to do that, let's go and we'll keep looking for him ourselves."

Angel blinked, physically shaking himself back into reality.

"Who's Connor?" Dawn asked curiously.

Angel answered her, but his gaze was entirely on Buffy. "Connor is my son," he said softly.

Buffy knew her mouth was open, but didn't seem to be able to do anything to fix it. There was a thump as Dawn sat down abruptly, and Willow and Giles had exactly matching expressions of astonishment on their faces.

"Pull the other one, mate," Spike scoffed, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.

"Connor is so Angel's son," the woman protested, sounding profoundly offended.

"It's okay, Fred," Cordy said softly, but Fred shook her head.

"It's not okay," she protested. "It's the truth."

"I was not aware," Giles said steadily, "that vampires were able to have children."

"We're not," Spike said firmly.

"So how...?" Willow began, but the rest of her question was lost as everyone started talking at once.

Buffy let it flow over her for a few moments, until she couldn't take the noise any more.

"Shut up!" she yelled, and silence dropped over the room as everyone turned to stare at her. She pointed at the group from LA, all still standing in the doorway, then pointed into the room. "You lot, sit." Still in silence, they sat.

She looked at Angel, really looked, and discovered her heart didn't lurch inside her they way it used to do. He seemed tired; there was a tightness about his eyes that she recognised from seeing it in the mirror.

"How do you have a son, Angel?" she asked, and she realised she was curious, not heartbroken, at the concept. "And why are you here?"

He didn't answer, just looked up at her, and she understood in that instant that he still loved her. He always would, but it was no longer with the single-mindedness of before. It was a love without the immediacy, the passion and the pain, and she felt a pang as she understood that, at last, he had gotten over her. She just wasn't sure if he had realised it yet.

The silence stretched, until Wesley filled it. "We don't really know how," he admitted. "Although we have found references to Connor in various prophecies – the Nyazian mainly," he added to Giles, who nodded thoughtfully, looking suitably impressed.

"So…" Willow began, and this time everyone looked at her. She swallowed. "Who's the mother?" she asked quickly.

"Darla," Angel said simply.

"Oh," Willow responded weakly.

"Darla," Buffy repeated automatically. She gave Angel a quizzical look. "Isn't that kind of like incest?" she asked.

To her amazement, Angel laughed. "Quite possibly," he agreed.

Spike looked outraged about the entire situation. "So you and great-grandma have a little vampire baby?"

"Connor's human," Cordelia interrupted sharply.

"And he has a soul," Fred added helpfully.

"Darla's dead," Angel added. His gaze turned inward as he remembered something. "She killed herself so Connor could be born." He sounded vaguely surprised. "She loved him."

"Sure she did," Spike agreed. "The bitch never loved anyone. Not even you, Angelus."

Angel didn't react, either to the comment or the name. "She loved Connor," he repeated simply.

"So when can I meet him?" Dawn demanded. "I think it's cool. A baby, just like…"

Buffy wasn't sure why she interrupted, just that it seemed vitally important to do so. "Where is he, Angel?" she asked.

At that, an expression of such pain settled on Angel's face that Buffy felt like her own heart was being cut into pieces.

"He's gone," Angel said softly.

She waited, but he didn't say anything else.

"There are several groups who want to lay their hands on Connor," Wesley explained into the silence. "Someone stole him. We had a lead that at least one of the interested parties was in Sunnydale." He shrugged. "So here we are."

And then, Buffy just _knew_. It all seemed to be so amazingly obvious she couldn't see how she hadn't figured it out before. A part of her wanted to scream at the unfairness of Fate, the rest to laugh at the irony of it.

She held out a hand to Angel. "Come with me."

Over his head, she could see Giles nodding in understanding, Spike giving her a surprisingly supportive smile.

"I don't..." Angel looked confused.

"Come with me," she repeated, and he slowly took her hand and stood. "Tell them about your ghost," she told Spike, and pulled Angel out of the room, leading him across the front hall to the stairs. Behind her, she could hear Spike starting to explain, again, about the mystery man in the cemetery.

"Where are we going?" Angel asked as he obediently followed Buffy up the stairs.

She didn't answer, just pulled him on along the hall until they reached the door to the master bedroom. It was there that he finally balked.

"Buffy, what's going on?" His voice was tight and impatient. "I've got better things to do than play guessing games."

_You'd be surprised,_ Buffy thought. She turned around and gave him a calm, steady look. "Angel, do I have to kick your ass right here in the hall? Because you're coming with me."

He looked startled, but she was rewarded by a short, small smile.

"All right," he agreed reluctantly. "But this better not take long."

Buffy opened the door and pushed him inside. "Take as long as you want."

Angel walked in uncertainly, his posture suggesting he expected some kind of monster to jump him at any second. He stopped, so motionless he might have been made of stone, when he saw the crib nestled against the wall near the window.

Buffy gave him another push and he stumbled across the carpet. He stopped beside the crib, every muscle in his body screaming tension. He looked inside, and all that tightness and anxiety just drained away. Buffy had never seen such love and devotion and total relief on his face before, and a part of her was obscurely hurt that he had never looked at _her_ like that.

Angel's legs seemed to give way and he dropped to his knees beside the cradle, one hand lightly touching the sleeping baby. "Oh, my God," he whispered brokenly. "Oh, my Connor, my precious, precious boy. Connor, _ahmic_." He started whispering endearments in Irish, and if Buffy couldn't understand the words, the relief and the joy and the love were unmistakable.

Buffy waited in the doorway, transfixed by the scene in front of her, yet feeling like she was intruding on something precious and private.

Angel stood again, leaning into the crib and carefully picking up the child inside. Connor opened his eyes for a moment, rubbed at one with a tidy hand and went back to sleep. Angel settled him against his shoulder and turned back to Buffy.

"How did you...?"

"I found Harmony with him one night on patrol," Buffy explained. "I rescued him. We've been trying to figure out who he is and why he's so important for days." She shrugged. "I guess now we know." She looked up, seeing him in a totally new light, as a man with a child. "Angel, I didn't know. If I had, I would have called you straight away, but I didn't know he was yours."

Angel was still watching his son, one hand softly brushing across the little boy's hair. "Thank you, Buffy," he said simply. "For saving him and protecting him. I'm in your debt forever." He smiled suddenly, and her heart went _thump_ automatically, even though she knew she had been right, and they were finally over each other. "Do you make a habit of it? You saved me, you know. Without you I was nothing and knowing you, loving you, it made me something. Now you've saved my son, and knowing and loving Connor, that's finishing what you started."

It was the look in his eyes that was too much. Without answering, Buffy turned to flee, run away and hide from this feeling ripping her apart inside.

But for the first time, Angel didn't let her go. He was across the room, baby still cradled in one arm, before she could reach the door. His other hand settled gently, but firmly, on her arm, stopping her flight.

"What is it, Buffy?"

She was horrified to find herself crying.

"Buffy?" Angel insisted.

She shook her head, hoping he'd leave it, but this was a new Angel, who didn't seem to give up on emotional complications as easily as the old one had.

"We're staying here until you tell me," he said firmly. "And imagine how bad that will get if Connor starts crying. Or worse, if he needs changing."

Buffy looked up, aware of the tears staining her cheeks. "Did you just make a joke?"

"I do sometimes," he assured her gravely. "Occasionally, they're even funny."

She smiled, unable to help herself.

"So what's wrong?"

Buffy shook her head. "It's mean and selfish and totally Buffy-like."

"I think I can cope."

"It just isn't fair," she said with a sigh. "You're the vampire and you get this beautiful baby, and I'm the human and I never will."

"There's no reason you can't have children, Buffy," Angel insisted, but he was aware of his grip on Connor tightening as he remembered yet again what a miracle his beautiful boy really was.

"Duh!" she retorted, and that was the old Buffy. "Slayer, remember? Short expiration date." She suddenly looked very, very embarrassed. "Besides, as of today, I'm kind of..." She trailed off.

"Kind of what?" Angel asked nervously.

"Kind-of-going-out-with-Spike," she answered all in a rush.

There was a moment of silence as Angel tried to process that information and failed utterly.

"Spike?" he managed to yelp finally, in a voice that was pitched much, much too high.

Buffy's head went up, her spine straightening. "Yes," she agreed. "He loves me."

"He's a soulless demon," Angel pointed out.

"Yes," Buffy agreed again. "And he treats me infinitely better than you ever did when you were a soulless demon."

Angel's gaze fell. "I guess I deserved that," he admitted. "But I don't like it, Buffy."

She shrugged. "That okay," she said easily. "It doesn't actually have anything to do with you."

Angel struggled with a desire to rush downstairs and stake the blond vampire, warring with the reluctant knowledge that she was right. "I still reserve the right to beat him bloody and then stake him if he hurts you," he said finally.

"I think," Buffy said slowly, "that if he did, he'd be happy to do it for you. If he really hurt me."

Angel nodded, but he was still planning on having a talk with his errant grandchilde.

Buffy wiped the tears from her face and smiled purposefully. "So, no more weepy Buffy. What's with you and Cordelia?"

Angel blinked at her. "Huh?"

Buffy actually chuckled. "There's something," she said firmly. "Even I could see it. I'm having a short attack of being percepto-girl, you see. I doubt it will last long."

"There's not..."

"Is too," Buffy retorted with all the cheerfulness and certainty of a three year old. "Be honest with Aunty Buffy."

Angel smiled, found the smile deepen a little at the thought of Cordelia; often annoying but always there for him.

"Maybe something," he admitted slowly. "I don't know what, exactly. We might just be really good friends."

"Don't run away from it," Buffy told him firmly. "That just makes everything messier. Just… Angel, be careful. I'm sure Cordy doesn't want to end up staking your alter-ego any more that I did. And I've never seen you so happy and relaxed as you are with Ru- with Connor. Just be careful."

"I..." Angel didn't have an answer. He wasn't sure he even knew how to react to this mature, insightful Buffy.

She seemed to realise that and smiled a little. "Don't worry, it probably won't last. Take the risk, just do it carefully. Time's too short, even for you." She looked up at him. "Come down when you're ready."

And she left him there with his son and went back to join the council of war downstairs.

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