TITLE: Anchor (Part 15/16)
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.)

Fifteen minutes later, she wasn't quite so sure.

Anya and Xander were already arguing about the wedding again. This time it was primarily over how they were going to fit the entire Angel Investigations crew – including Connor of course – into the already crowded reception. This caused the continuing problem of where to seat Xander's Uncle Rory to raise its ugly head. Again.

Cordelia was haranguing Fred and Gunn over the possibility they could have been seriously hurt. It was abundantly clear that, regardless of whatever growing up she had done, Cordelia Chase could still really let it fly when she was so inclined. Gun was starting to get red in the face – quite an achievement given his dark skin – as he tried to explain adequately, more to himself that to Cordy, Buffy suspected, how they had been bested by Justine. Fred just looked miserable.

And as for Spike and Angel…

Buffy was sorely tempted to stake the pair of them.

They were walking behind the rest of the group and they were arguing. Not in an almost friendly way like Xander and Anya, and not through concern like Cordelia. This was proper, down and dirty, angry arguing.

Fortunately, everyone else seemed to be too busy themselves to be paying too much attention, but the odd phrase floated forward to Buffy and she was caught between embarrassment and anger. She was trying very hard to ignore them, but since she was what they were arguing about, it was extremely difficult to do.

"You hurt her and I'll come and dust you." Angel.

"You interfere and I'll stake _you_." Spike.

"You're a sore loser. She chose me." Spike of course.

"Because she couldn't have me." Angel, sounding particularly ticked off but not totally convinced.

"You know your problem, Peaches? She likes a little monster…"

Buffy had no intention letting him finish that one. Just in case someone else was paying attention.

She stopped dead in her tracks and spun around to glare at the pair of vampires. "Shut up!" she snapped. "How old are you again? Because you sound like a couple of ten year olds."

Spike looked hurt. "I'm only protecting your honour, luv."

"Ha!" Angel snorted derisively. "Maligning it, more like."

Of course, the other arguments had stopped now, and close attention was being paid to every word spoken.

"I am _quite_ capable of protecting my own _honour_," Buffy retorted coldly. "I don't need _either_ of you two idiots trying to do it for me."

"Luv…"

"Buffy…"

For a moment, they were united in their wide-eyed hurt.

Then it went downhill again as Spike, once again, couldn't help but push things a little too far.

"You know, Soulboy, she's right. She _is_ a dab hand with handcuffs."

"Handcuffs?" Xander repeated in a startled voice.

Buffy flushed and cringed, both at the same time.

"What's wrong with handcuffs?" Anya asked matter-of-factly. "I thought you liked them."

The cringe and the flush both receded as total annoyance took their place.

"Would everyone just _shut up_?" she snapped again.

Spike and Angel were glaring at each other again, but they did at least keep quiet.

"We might as well let them get it out of their systems." Buffy almost jumped when Cordelia spoke from about a foot away. She turned her head to see the dark haired woman standing beside her, an understanding look on her face.

It was kind of weird, discovering she had a sort of kindred spirit in Cordelia Chase, but Buffy couldn't deny that there was something there.

She nodded. "Boys will be boys," she commented a touch snidely.

"Even the dead ones," Cordy agreed.

"Hmmm."

Before he could guess what was coming, Buffy marched up to Angel and took Connor from his arms. The baby, finally deciding enough was enough, started screaming fit to wake the dead, but for once Buffy ignored it.

"Go on," she told the vampires flatly. "Go and have it out. Shout, scream, abuse each other. Beat each other to a pulp and see if we care. Just sort this out. Because I don't want to hear any of it ever again after tonight."

"Yeah," Cordelia agreed, backing Buffy up. "Just _get over it_." She brushed a finger softly across Connor's cheek. "Come on, little baby. Aunt Cordy and Aunty Buffy are taking you home while Daddy and Uncle Spike play at being big, macho vampires."

She turned on her heel and walked away, Buffy joining her. Xander exchanged a quick glance with Gunn, who shrugged in return.

"I'm cold," Anya announced loudly. "Let's go."

"But – " Xander protested. "I want to watch."

Anya took him by the arm and pulled him after the others. "Most vengeance is improved by an audience. This isn't. Come on."

Xander grumbled, but he followed her all the same.

In moments, Spike and Angel found themselves abandoned in the graveyard. The last thing before they heard before their fellow "champions" disappeared was Buffy speaking cheerfully to Cordelia. "So I get to be Aunty Buffy, huh? That's cool."

That and the fading sounds of Connor crying.

"You are _not_ his Uncle Spike," Angel said finally.

Spike just raised his eyebrows mockingly.

Things went downhill from there.

Dawn had refused to leave her post by the front window for the last three quarters of an hour. Both Willow and Tara had tried to get her to go to bed, or at least rest on the sofa, but Dawn was unmoveable.

"They should be back by now," she fretted. "Something's gone wrong, I know it has."

Willow and Tara exchanged a look Dawn couldn't see. They shared the same fear, but they had been trying to hide it to avoid upsetting the younger girl even further. If everything had gone according to plan, Gunn and Fred should have arrived back with Connor by now. They hadn't, which did indeed suggest something had gone seriously wrong.

"Maybe one of us should go and look for them," Willow suggested quietly as she passed Tara on her way to the kitchen, carrying Dawn's untouched – and now cold – mug of hot chocolate.

Tara frowned, and followed her. After a moment, she shook her head slowly. "We have our job, Willow. We might make things worse if we try doing something else."

"But something bad's happened," Willow wailed as she poured the drink down the sink. "I know it has."

"We _don't_ know," Tara insisted firmly.

Willow raised miserable eyes to her friend's face. "I'm such a failure, Tara. I should be out there helping them, instead of staying here too messed up to do _anything_ useful. I can't get anything right."

Tara had wrapped her arms around her ex-lover before her brain even had time to let her know it was thinking about telling her to move. "You're _not_ a failure," she protested fiercely.

"But you hate me." This declaration was barely audible.

"Oh, honey." Tara sighed, hoping she would be able to say the right thing. "Willow, I hate what you did. But I don't hate _you_." She swallowed. "I am so proud of you, the way you're fighting this. And I believe you can do it."

"You are?"

Tara nodded. "Very proud."

"Do you think you might want me back one day?"

A part of Tara, a very large part, wanted her back right then. Life just wasn't _right_ without Willow in it. Tara had found light and colour and laughter with Willow, and she missed it terribly. Things were grey again, just as she had begun to hope they might never be again. But life wasn't a fairy tale and mistakes couldn't be magically fixed. In fact, any magic at all would be a disaster. Real life was terribly complicated and it just wasn't fair.

"I think I might," she agreed in a voice that shook slightly.

"Even if I'm just boring Willow?"

For a moment, gentle Tara had a fight an urge to thump the other woman. "You're _Willow_. That's who I fell in love with."

Willow shook her head stubbornly. "I was magic Willow then. Maybe you won't like plain Willow."

Tara pulled away so that she could see Willow's face. "Why don't you keep working on being the best Willow you can be, and…" Tara swallowed again, feeling like she was laying her heart out on a altar where it might be cut into numerous little bits. "And maybe I could get to know _that_ Willow."

The green eyes watching her, widened. "Maybe you'll like her?" Willow suggested hopefully.

"Buffy and Xander have always liked her," Tara pointed out. "So has Giles. And they are all people I think have good judgement."

"I'll keep trying," Willow promised.

"No." Tara shook her head. "Don't keep _trying_. Keep _doing_. I know you can."

Slowly, Willow nodded. "I can do it," she agreed. "I will." She risked a shy smile. "And then maybe we could… could, um, go out for coffee or something?"

"Maybe we could." Tara had to hold back the smile. "The coffee that is. I'm not ready for 'or something' yet."

Willow laughed and the sound was only a little wobbly. "Or something might be dangerous," she agreed.

They both chuckled, more comfortable together than they had been for a long time. A comfort that lasted only moments before it was destroyed by a yell from Dawn.

Both woman hurtled out of the kitchen, expecting to find Dawn under attack from a posse of vampires at the very least. Instead, they found her pulling open the door and racing outside. Willow lunged, trying to grab her before she crossed the threshold and left the safety of the warded house, but she wasn't quick enough.

Dawn clattered down the steps and threw herself into the arms of the first figure walking up the path. Buffy staggered, and Connor howled, but Dawn didn't seem to care.

"You're okay," she cried. "You're okay. I thought something had happened to you."

Buffy hugged her sister back. "We're all right," she assured Dawn. "Just a few rough moments on the way."

"I was scared," Dawn whispered.

Buffy's hug tightened a little more. "Me too," she admitted.

"Touching though this is," Xander's voice interrupted, "why don't we continue it inside? Sunnydale, remember?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah," she agreed. "Inside." She handed Connor over to Fred, who was nearest, and pulled her sister up the stairs.

Tara and Willow were waiting anxiously just inside the doorway, and Willow was checking each new arrival as they came inside. "You're not all here," she said worriedly. "Where's everyone else? Where's Giles?"

"He's with Wesley," Anya offered helpfully.

"And where's Wesley?"

Anya shrugged, her face falling. "I don't know."

Cordelia had a look of distinct satisfaction on her face. "They're doing something that is hopefully very horrible to some lawyers."

"Oh," Tara said in a small voice and everyone trooped into the living room and collapsed in various ungainly positions all over Buffy's furniture.

Willow looked everyone over again, certain the numbers still didn't add up. Because there was Connor, safely in Fred's arms and no longer crying, but there was no sign of his father. Or Spike…

"What about…?" she began.

Xander saw where she was looking and understood. He sighed ecstatically. "Angel and Spike are beating each other to a pulp. It's a dream come true – and no-one would let me stay and watch."

"I told you…" Anya began and Xander nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, but my favourite fantasy comes true and I don't even get to see it." He sighed theatrically. "Life is cruel and unfair." A second later he brightened. "Maybe they'll kill each other."

"They better not," Buffy and Cordelia said firmly, both at the same time.

"Cat fight?" Xander commented almost hopefully.

Cordy and Buffy exchanged glances. "Nah," Cordelia said mildly.

"She can have him," they both finished together.

"But your guy better not turn my guy into dust," Buffy said warningly. "I hate vacuuming."

Cordelia laughed. "And dust can't change Connor's diapers," she added. "I refuse to do it all the time. That is _so_ a parent's job."

Buffy refrained from pointing out the Cordy was surely the closest thing Connor had to a mother. She grinned at Dawn instead.

"So do you want to hear about our magnificent doings? Giles was _so_ cool." She did her best to pull off a Harmony-flounce, hampered by the fact she wouldn't get up from the chair she was sprawled in. "I was pretty good too."

"From the beginning," Dawn said firmly. "Every little detail."

"I'll make hot chocolate," Tara offered.

Willow gave her a shy smile. "I'll help?" It was such a hopeful look that Tara chuckled.

"Come on," she agreed.

Connor had been put to bed and they were just finishing the tale when they were joined by two very sheepish looking vampires. Both were bruised and battered; Spike sporting a cut lip and by-now familiar bruises around his eyes, Angel a gash across his forehead that was still bleeding sluggishly and his own share of growing bruises.

The scariest thing was that they came in with their arms slung companionably around each others shoulders and sharing Spike's hip flask.

Buffy buried her head in her hands. "I don't think I want to know."

Spike just chuckled at her reaction and left Angel to cross the room and kiss her firmly on the lips. "Relax, Slayer. We called a truce." He looked back at his grandsire. "Otherwise, I'd have thrashed him."

"In your dreams," Angel retorted, but his eyes were on Cordelia. And his mind elsewhere completely. "Where's Connor?"

"Upstairs," she answered. "In Buffy's room."

He nodded and headed for the stairs. At the bottom, he turned back to her. "Coming?"

She grinned and jumped to her feet, and they went up the stairs together to check on the baby.

Giles and Wesley didn't get back until early morning. They crept into a silent, sleeping house and, in order not to disturb anyone, collected glasses from the kitchen and went back out to the porch to toast each other on their combined genius.

Buffy found them there two hours later, both sound asleep at opposite ends of the swing seat, an empty wine bottle lying on its side on the wooden floor and two equally empty wine glasses carefully sitting on the porch rail.

She stood at the top of the steps and watched day come to Sunnydale.

Despite all the crap, the world was a beautiful place and she was very, very glad she was in it. It might have taken one baby boy to show her that, but the sense of wonder he had reawakened had expanded to the point where at last she could see the beauty of life again.

It was in the big things and the little things. The sun rising behind a tree and turning the leaves a burning gold, the sound of birds squabbling over the first worms of the day, the sound of Connor rousing in the house behind her, her neighbour, going out to collect his paper and waving at her.

Buffy waved back and laughed, truly and completely as she hadn't since her friends had brought her back from the dead, delighted by it all.

The sound woke Giles with a start and he looked towards it and froze, transfixed by a miracle.

Buffy, silhouetted by the morning sun, laughing, her face bright and joyful.

Alive.

And back with them at last.

NEXT