Dare You To Move
By: Baysidegal
Disclaimer Don't own the characters. Just Genevieve and the other kid lets that won't be in this story much, just mentions of them.
Authors note Errr. This is a shaky plot. I like it its just not well thought up and stuff… I just had a spur of the moment idea and had to go with it. So, thanks.
"The senior partners, in return of being put through hell, literally, and for suffering all the emotional and physical pain you had to endure, have decided," spoke the woman, in a monotone voice that led up to a long dramatic pause.
"To give you anything you wish," said the man sitting beside her. Both were dressed as experienced business. The woman in a blue knee high dress suit, and the man, who appeared to be her husband in a gray three-piece suit, carrying a briefcase.
They were the senior partners, the ones that had done all of this to him. And as Angel stood there, hating them, he had to hold himself back from lashing out in anger.
"Anything?" Angel questioned, hunched slightly forward, a tear in his shirt just below his ribcage. His chest rose and fell slightly, as she inhaled and exhaled air that he wasn't breathing.
"Anything." Promised the man and woman in unison.
"To be human? To have my son back? To have Cordy back? To have Fred back?" He shouted. These problems, minus being human, were all caused by the Wolfram and Hart Law Firm, all their fault.
"To have Connor return, to have Cordy alive, and to have Fred return to her former being is simple," said the woman with a slight chuckle. "Such stupidity."
"What my wife means," the man explained, intertwining his fingers with hers. "All we would have to do is send you to the past. Right, before Connor was kidnapped."
"No Holtz?" Angel inquired, raising an eyebrow that was smeared with some demon blood.
"No Holtz." The woman confirmed. "The prophecy will still linger, you will kill Connor, eventually, because he suffers, years down the road. But you will get to see him grow and learn, don't not fret about that."
"Cordy? Fred?"
"Will be back to there old self's," The man informed him, opening up the briefcase. "Hyperion Hotel, 1999, please."
"Wait!" Angel tried to call, but there was a cool breath of fresh air and Angel was thrown backwards.
"It is done." The woman said before walking away in the darkness that appeared behind her. She was gone.
"You'll be in pain for a few minutes, then you'll be back where you want to be, Wolfram and Hart will never intervene again," the man said, before he too walked into the darkness, smirking. "You did well Angel." He faded away.
Angel screamed out in pain. Feeling as if his insides were being turned inside out. He shouted again in complete agony as he felt, for the first time a gasp of air feel his lungs. His heart began to thump, and only then did the pain of true hunger settle in his body. The process was over, and he lay limp on the floor, breathing heavily.
He only got a seconds pause to breath before he felt as though he were shooting out into space. He saw past experiences flash before him.
Fred was gone.
The phone call. Cordy is dead.
He stabbed Conner.
Cordy having a vision.
The Hyperion blowing up.
Wesley kidnapping Connor.
Conner laying peacefully in his basinet.
"Angel?"
Angel snapped out of whatever kind of trance he had been in. He was standing in the middle of the lobby of his old headquarters. He looked around in awe, turning a complete circle, is mouth hanging open.
"Cordy?" Angel asked, squinting his eyes at the brunette who sat behind the desk.
"Yeah… Cordy?" Cordelia Chase gave Angel a disapproving look before placing a file on the top of the counter. "Big, gooey, pointy horn demon. Just like the rest."
"There you go, buddy," Winifred Burkle cooed as she entered the lobby, holding a tiny baby in a blanket bundle.
"Fred?" Angel exclaimed when he saw the Texan girl. Not Illeriya.
"Morning Angel," she greeted, walking towards him smiling down at the baby. "He's all changed and fed. Missing Daddy."
Angel fell silent when Fred handed over baby Connor. The little boy squirmed before opening his eyes to stare up at Angel, only to close them again in reassurance.
"Connor," Angel whispered, cradling the bundle in his arms.
"Angel, pointy demon problem. Pronto," ordered Cordelia, waving around the manila folder. A strand of hair fell out of place and she blew it back up.
"Did I hear demon?" a voice called. Charles Gunn came in carrying a green-blood colored axe. "Pointy? My favorite kind."
"Here," Cordy said in an annoyed tone. "Mr. I-can-only-stare-at-my-son isn't gonna do anything about them."
"I'll have to have back up," Gunn mused, reading over the folder quickly. "Angel, you gonna come or stand there?"
Angel didn't answer, he kept his gaze fixed on the sleeping child in his arms.
"Angel?" Wesley spoke from behind him. "Angel, are you okay?"
"I'm fine Wes," Angel promised, instinctively pulling Connor closer to his large, beating chest.
"You don't look fine," came a tiny voice from the top of the stairs. "Nope, nope, not at all Uncle Angel."
All eyes looked up to see the dark headed child frowning down at them from the balcony. She stepped down the stair, her dark headed pigtails with every step. She shook her head and looked at them disappointed.
"Oncle Angel est être juste idiot" (Uncle Angel is just being silly)
"She speaks French?" Wesley questioned, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. He checked her over; she couldn't have been more then six years old.
"I've always spoke French," the child replied knowingly, stepping off the last step. "You knew that."
"No I'm afraid I didn't," Wesley replied, shaking his head confused.
"Yes, you did," she objected, pointing a chubby accusing finger at him. Her nose brow was wrinkled in annoyance and she sighed when the adults still didn't seem to get it. "Daddy, you always say thing in English and then say it in French and Latin."
"Daddy?" Wesley muttered in disbelief.