Still His Girl

A fic by Jen

Pairing: Booth/Buffy

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from Bones or BtVS…I wish I owned DB, but…*sobs* alas I do not!

A/N: Okay—I know I haven't posted on this in a long time, but musie is a fickle little thing and I also wanted to finish it BEFORE I posted on it again. Here's the latest chappie. I want to thank you all for loving, supporting and patiently waiting for this fic. Seriously, you are the best…

Now enough of my chit-chat—on with the show! Right?

Hugs,

Jen

Chappie 14

Booth stiffened and his body went into something that resembled an epileptic fit as the flashback of his life as Angel ended. "Connor…" he gasped. His body jerked again. "Buffy!" he shouted and toppled forward, landing on his face with a thud.

The room seemed to freeze as the dark haired ex-vampire fell to the floor. He lay there for several seconds seemingly unconscious before suddenly jerking up and letting out an agonized scream that sent chills up the spines of everyone in the room. He swatted at his arms and chest furiously as if experiencing the fire all over again. He had no sense of anyone as he opened his mouth and screamed Buffy's name, the muscles and tendons in his neck and arms bulged with the agony he was experiencing and Buffy had to forcibly restrain herself from going to him. It seemed to go on forever and Buffy was crying freely when he finally got to his hands and knees panting. You could have heard a pin drop in the room when he raised his head and looked around the room in a daze. "What happened?" he croaked.

No one said a word and Angel's eyes flickered across the room, trying to find something familiar. This was worse than when he came back from hell. At least then he was an animal without any memories. This time Angel felt like he was coming out of a fog—a peaceful, happy fog, so why had he thought he was on fire? Was he in Hell again? He scanned the room again warily. He had no idea where he was, but then he saw her and a sense of peace settled over him again. He couldn't be in Hell, not if Buffy was here. She was light—everything good, so he must still be in Heaven. "Buffy," he choked out, blinking those big dark eyes at her. "How…?" He tried to sit up, but he felt so weak and only managed to fall back again. "Where am I?" he asked, finally settling on putting his hands on his knees and keeping himself upright by sheer force of will.

"Booth?" she asked tentatively, stepping forward.

Angel shook his head as if to clear it. "Who?" His brows drew down and he stared at her in confusion. "Why are you calling me Booth—don't you recognize me?" he asked her, clearly disorientated, but there was a shadow of hurt there that she'd called him by another man's name.

Buffy's stomach dropped to her toes and the tears flowed like wine at an Italian wedding as she recognized that soulful—worshipful kind of love shining in those dark brown eyes. She took two quick steps forward. "Angel?" she whispered, shuddering to a stop as her knees wobbled and threatened to give out on her.

"Yeah, it's me. Who's Booth and why did you call me that?" Buffy fumbled, fidgeting as she wracked her brain for the appropriate reply, but she was saved from answering when Angel noticed Doyle. His eyes widened. "Doyle? But you're—"

"Supposedly dead?" the Irishman supplied. Angel nodded, still looking confused as he ran a shaky hand down his face. Doyle shrugged. "Well, you know how those crazy Powers are boyo—nothing ever really stays dead, right?" he joked nervously—it was obvious Angel wasn't remembering anything about being Seeley Booth yet. Angel asked if he was in heaven too and Doyle suddenly had the urge to catch the next jet to another dimension. "No man, we're not in heaven. You're alive—don't ya remember?" Angel frowned at his friend, but the sudden pounding in his chest caught his attention then and he placed a hand to it in wonder. "What's the last thing ya remember, Angel?" he asked.

"I—I don't know," he said running a hand through his hair as he finally managed to sit up. "Why do I feel so weak?" He turned to the Buffy. She'd always been his shining light at the end of whatever tunnel he was in and he looked to her for answers now. "Buffy—what happened? Where am I and how did I get here?"

Swallowing back her own conflicted emotions, Buffy came to kneel beside him. "Angel, I don't know how to exactly explain it," she started, but before she got any further he reached out and hauled her to him and she was crushed in his strong embrace. He clung to her like she was his life-line, holding her so tightly she thought he'd actually turned vamp again.

Angel buried his face in the side of her neck, inhaling the sweet smell of vanilla and something uniquely Buffy. It was just her scent and it was the closest thing to a feeling of coming home that he'd ever had. "Buffy—I never—I thought you were lost to me forever," he said softly against her throat.

She wrapped her arms around him and tears rolled down her cheeks as she stroked her hands through his soft dark hair. She murmured soothing words while placing tender kisses along his jaw and cheeks, before finally kissing his lips with a gentle wonder. She'd thought he was lost too, but she didn't say that. "Oh Angel, never, even if you were gone, I'd never stop looking for you. I didn't stop…" she whispered, cradling him to her. "I love you. I've always loved you."

They stayed like that for several long quiet moments. No one said a word, as the two lovers clung to each other. Angel held onto Buffy like she was the only thing in this world that made sense to him and Buffy cradled his head to her breast, rocking him like he was a small child. The moment was magical. Willow looked away, the private moment almost too intimate to look upon. Doyle was so choked up he looked ready to cry and even Whistler looked affected as he loosened his collar. It was too beautiful. The love Buffy and Angel shared just seemed to fill the room with a golden glow, that is until suddenly Angel stiffened in her arms.

"You betrayed me!" he bit out, yanking himself out of her embrace so quickly that Buffy lost her balance and landed on her rear end on the floor. She gazed up at him, hazel eyes wide as his face contorted. "You said you didn't trust me anymore!" he accused. Then his lip curled and an expression so ugly crossed his face Buffy swore she was looking at Angelus again. "You let Fred die!" His eyes shot to Willow. "She was hijacked by some God and you and Giles—all of you could have helped but you didn't. You said I was evil, so what the hell are you doing here now?"

Doyle glanced to Whistler; who shrugged. "Hey, telling him was your idea, not mine," he said. "He'll have to remember in his own time."

Buffy tried to touch his arm, but he yanked it back. "Don't touch me!" he snarled. Her lower lip trembled and the words that exonerated her in that whole debacle died in her throat. His chest heaved as he stared down at her like she was something nasty he'd just stepped in.

"Angel, I—" His jaw clenched and Buffy's face paled when she saw something she never thought to see in Angel's eyes, at least not directed at her. He was looking at her like he hated her. Her little shoulders drooped and she sagged against the couch as if all the life had been sucked right out of her.

Willow stepped forward. "Angel, I know this is all a little much, but we don't have time for blame games. I'm sorry, but there's more important things going on right now than you and Buffy's past. You need to remember—"

He glared at her. "Yeah, maybe to you and I do remember!" he snapped. "I remember you—" His words screeched to a halt as a blinding white hot pain exploded behind his eyes. "Aaagghh!" he yelled, gripping his head as memories began to flood his brain, assailing him from all sides and so quickly that it felt like his head was being torn in two. Everything rushed in—Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart. Cordy and Wes dying. The alley—rain and fire, with he and Spike battling more demons than they could count. Connor showing up at the last minute. He saw a near dead Gunn still crawling out to battle even though his guts were hanging out and a look of fury passed over his handsome features. Quick as a cat he scooted away from Buffy. "You left us to die!" he roared glaring at her as if she were the devil himself.

Buffy looked like she was going to be sick. She reached out her hand to him again, but he smacked it away. "Angel please…let me explain," she whispered brokenly.

He made a chopping motion with his hand. "Don't give me that pouting bullshit!" he snarled. Buffy clapped a hand over her mouth to keep her tears from choking out of her, but Angel didn't seem to care. He gave a sarcastic snort that hurt almost as much as his anger."You know Buffy, that pout may have worked before, but truthfully I've kind of lost the urge to protect you—maybe it had something to do with you calling me evil, hmmm?" he said, lashing out at her. Buffy was crying now and he smirked at her in a way that was truly Angelus-y. "Go ahead and cry—I did when you called me evil…did you know that?" he said. He shook his head. "No, of course you didn't because you weren't here. You didn't give a shit—so don't pretend you do now!"

"Angel I didn't know!" Buffy finally said in her defense. "Giles didn't even tell me about your situation—I would have come…"

"She's telling the truth," Willow added. "Giles didn't want her distracted from our mission with the Immortal so he didn't tell her until it was too late."

That gave him pause, but the pain was brutally fresh all over again and he reacted from that place. "Yeah whatever, that's easy to—" He stopped mid-sentence as memories of the dragon and being on fire flooded his brain. "Wait! I died!" he gasped. His eyes flickered around the room for a second before he gave another short mirthless laugh. "And you all brought me back! Great! I guess the whole earning peace when you die saving the world is a foreign concept to you, isn't it?" He directed that comment to Willow mistakenly assuming she'd brought him back like she had Buffy at one time.

"Angel…" Buffy started, but he leaped to his feet and stomped away from her.

Whistler chose that moment to step in. "Look kid, if you're done having your tantrum I can explain."

Angel turned hostile eyes on him. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow. "Let me guess, some big bad is threatening the world again and you needed my help so you dragged me back?" he asked sarcastically.

"Um—well something like that, but not exactly," Doyle said.

Angel couldn't be angry at his old friend and his eyes softened. "Doyle, tell me what the hell is going on. I don't remember anything after L.A. What happened?" he asked softly.

"You saved the world and earned your Shanshu, boyo," the Irish man said.

"So it was the Powers that brought me back?" Doyle nodded. "Then where am I? This isn't my place in L.A. and how long have I been gone?"

"Um…well that's the thing…" Doyle hedged as Whistler gave him a warning look. The aquamarine eyed half demon nodded. They couldn't make him remember anymore—it would have to come to him. "You fought the dragon that day, right?"

Angel frowned, "Yeah," he agreed, trying to put the memories still assailing him at random into some kind of order. "I remember the dragon. Me and Spike fighting and—" His eyes bulged. "Oh God, Connor! He came after me—tried to help me." He whipped about to Whistler and stalked across the room to grab the smaller man by his jacket. "Where is he?" Whistler looked away uncomfortably and Angel's gut tightened in dread. Answer me! Where's my son?!" the ex-vampire demanded, shaking the little demon until his teeth rattled.

Buffy stuffed a fist in her mouth to stop her sobs as she watched the scene before her. It was going from bad to worse and she'd known this would happen. Her gut had warned her, but she'd foolishly gone along with Willow's plan because somewhere, even as happy as she'd been with Booth, a part of her had wanted her Angel back. Well, now he was back, except he wasn't hers anymore. She wanted to go curl up in a corner and cry, but she stayed put. Even if he hated her, he was going to need her and this time she was determined to be here for him.

Whistler finally managed to pry Angel's hands off him. He fixed his suit jacket as he tried to find an easy way to tell the angry man his news. He glanced at Doyle for help, but Doyle had suddenly found his feet utterly fascinating and wouldn't meet Whistler's eyes. The demon gave a small snort in annoyance, but when Angel clenched his fists and came at him again, he held a hand up. "No need to get physical again, big guy. I'll tell you, but you're not going to like it."

Angel crossed his arms over his chest. "Just tell me," he bit out.

"Look, I'm sorry Angel, but the kid didn't make it. He—"

Angel's roar cut him off. "The Powers saved me, but not him?!" He grabbed Whistler again and tossed him against the wall. He didn't have vamp strength anymore, but he was still a big, strong guy and Whistler wasn't. A sickening sorrow was threatening to overwhelm the ex-vampire as he absorbed the knowledge that Connor was dead. They'd let him die. "That's so predictable." He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "Well, let me give you a message for them…if they think I'm still their errand boy—they're out of their higher minds!"

"Angel, you gotta listen to reason man," Doyle said, but this time Angel wasn't interested in even what Doyle had to say.

"No, see I really don't. I don't care what the Powers have planned. Had they saved my son…saved my friends—someone I loved, then maybe I would have, but I stopped caring the second you told me that everyone I love is dead." His eyes flickered over to Buffy when she made a whimper of pain at being left out of his 'people he loved' list. He almost went to her because that sound still had the power to hurt him, but he ignored it and her and grabbed a jacket lying next to the couch instead. He shrugged it on, not at all surprised that it fit him. This place felt familiar and he somehow knew it was his home even if he had no memory of it yet. "I need to get out of here and away from this for a minute," he said gruffly. What he really needed was to be alone—to mourn losing his son and he supposed everything else too.

Buffy started to grab her jacket too. "Angel, can we please talk?"

"Not right now." His eyes were still hard, but they weren't filled with hatred anymore. "Maybe not ever," he added with a sigh. Buffy's shoulders sagged again and he hesitated. She looked so sad and while he wasn't sure of her anymore—not like he used to be, her pain still made him ache and he didn't want to keep hurting her, especially if she hadn't betrayed him. But the fact was he simply just couldn't do this with her—at least not yet. "We'll…talk, but not now, okay?" Her eyes lightened at that and he nodded at her a small smile tilting up one side of his mouth."I promise, but right now I just need some…time, alright?"

Hope sprung up in her. "I get it, but you're open to us talking in the future, right?" He nodded. "Alright. I'll deal. Um, do you mind if I ask where you're going?"

He shrugged. "I was going to stand on the porch."

A relieved look crossed Buffy's face. "Oh—just a trip to the porch—okay, um…we'll just…ah…wait here for you then."

Willow's eyes widened when it became apparent the Slayer wasn't going to stop him. She nudged Buffy, but the Slayer ignored her, shaking her head at Willow in an effort to just give him a minute, but Willow wasn't having it. Time was of the essence in her mind and she didn't have the time to coddle Angel's feelings. "You can't leave. There's too much going on—things you need to know first," she said when he headed for the door.

He had no interest in anything she had to say—she obviously had known about what was happening in L.A. and had chosen to not tell Buffy. He shot her a smirk as he opened the door. "Really?" He gave a short bark of angry laughter. He didn't forgive Willow and didn't know if he ever would—Giles either. "Watch me!" he snapped and without waiting for a reply, slammed out of the apartment.

"Buffy, why didn't you do something?!" Willow demanded. "He has to know about being Booth and Angelus—you have to go after him." Buffy ignored her outburst. Her brows were drawn down and she looked deep in thought. Willow gave a loud huff. "Fine, if you won't, I will," she said.

Buffy moved so fast Willow was stunned to suddenly find herself pinned against the wall. "Wave those witchy hands in his direction again and you'll have nothing but stumps left, Wills. I swear it," she said fiercely. She let her friend go with a sigh. Willow rubbed her throat where Buffy's hand had been. Buffy wrapped her arms around her middle. "We've done enough to him today. Didn't you hear him? He's just going out to the porch. Let him come to grips with everything and then he'll help. It's who he is, so just give him a minute to deal and then we'll drop the rest of our bombs on him. You know he is only human now—just how much misery do you want to lump on him in one day?" Buffy growled. "I mean, he just found out his son died, Willow! God, what happened to you? You used to care about people more!"

"I lost someone I loved too, Buffy or have you forgotten that?"

"Well, let's hope he doesn't react like you did, huh?"

"That's not fair," Willow snapped.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, it is. If Angel had done what you did all of you would have demanded I stake him—so don't talk about fair. When he's ready to come back in, he will. Until then leave him alone."

Willow started to argue, but Whistler nodded and agreed with Buffy. "The Slayer's right. He has no memory of being Booth yet—it'll hit him and he'll work it out. Angel's got heart—it's why the Powers chose him." The older demon turned to Doyle. "Now we gotta go—you," he said motioning to Doyle, "get to explain to the big guys up there how this all went so wrong."

Doyle sighed. He was going to be in trouble with his Princess and the powers for mucking this up so badly, but he also knew Angel. The man was the real deal, so Doyle knew he'd rise to the occasion, take up the hero mantle again and be ready to fight when the time came. But he at least wanted to say goodbye this time. "Maybe you better go check on him just the same"

Buffy went to the door and opened it. He wasn't on the porch and she looked around. He wasn't in the front at all and it took her a second to realize the big black SUV was gone. Uh-oh. She turned back to everyone, chewing her bottom lip. "Okay, well that trip to the porch just got a lot longer…he's gone," she said softly.

Willow threw her hands up in the air. "Great! I told you to stop him!"

Buffy shot her friend a glare. "So not with the helping," she muttered.

"Where do ya think he'd go lass?" Doyle asked.

Buffy shrugged. "He's in a city he doesn't really remember—"

Whistler shook his head. That's not really true. His memories of Booth haven't surfaced yet, but they're still there. He may have remembered when he walked out the door, who knows?"

Buffy fidgeted nervously wondering what he was doing. Was he okay? "Well, he's in pain. We have to find him." She gave Whistler and Doyle an exasperated scowl. "Come on you're both flunkies for the PTB's right?" Doyle and Whistler both bristled at that term, but nodded just the same. Buffy waited, tapping her foot. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Well…can't you…I don't know…feel him or something? Track him somehow?"

"It doesn't work that way. He doesn't have a supernatural lo-jack installed, you know," Whistler deadpanned. Buffy shot him a look that said clearly she was not amused. he sighed. "Tough crowd."

"About to get tougher," Buffy growled advancing on him with her tiny fists clenched.

Whistler held up his hands. "Hey, one pummeling a night is all I can take. Look kid, I'd love to wave a magic wand and tell ya where he went, but I can't. He's human now, plus me and the sap here need to get back." Doyle balked at being called a sap, but he did agree they needed to explain to the PTB's what happened here. "Look," Whistler continued, "We've been here and interfered a hell of a lot more than we were supposed to," he said giving Doyle another baleful glare.

"I can do a locator spell, but I need my herbs and tools. Also, I should check in with Giles—see if he's figured out the ritual Angelus will use to get his body back." The red headed witch turned to Buffy. "Buffy, I know I seem harsh and I'm sorry, but I thought you of all people would understand sometimes we have to put our own happiness to the side when it comes to saving the world."

Buffy's eyes about popped from her head at that hypocritical statement. "Seriously? Miss I'm going to end the world cause I lost my girlfriend—you're really saying that to me?"

Willow's eyes narrowed. "Like you haven't jeopardized all of us for love, Buffy?' She made a scoffing sound. "Really," she said with an eye roll. Before Buffy could reply the red head was talking again. "I'm going to get my supplies, I'll be back," she said and teleported out leaving Buffy standing there furiously glaring at the spot she'd been standing.

"Nifty trick she's learned," Whistler commented.

"Yeah, real nifty," Buffy ground out. "But she's lost what used to make her Willow," the Slayer said sadly as it finally became very real to her that Willow and her weren't really friends anymore.

"We need to get back and report to the bosses—this thing with Angelus is about to kick off and we need all the players ready. You've spent time with Booth. Do you know where he'd go?" Whistler asked.

Buffy sighed. "No, but…" Her eyes lit up. "I think I know someone who might," she said. "Look, you guys go handle whatever it is you have to handle. I'm the Slayer—I'll deal with Angelus. I know where he's at. Just get me the Intel on how to kill him, but right now I'm more worried about Angel's state of mind, so if we're done here…I need to call a cab and get back to the hotel and my car."

Doyle and Whistler agreed and after arranging a new meeting time and place, they popped out. After calling a taxi service, Buffy sat down to wait. Now all she had to do was figure out just 'what' she was going to say to Booth's partner to get her to spill. Temperance Brennan didn't seem like the type to get intimidated easily or go for the mystical and Buffy was all about the supernatural. She sighed. This should be interesting indeed.

Angelus turned as the Father Donlan entered his room. "Finally! Where the fuck have you been?" he snarled savagely. "The Svera Priests are here—ready to do the ritual. Can't you hear them?" The old Priest nodded and tried to explain his whereabouts, but Angelus cut him off with a violent wave of his arm. "Actually I don't give a shit. Let's just get this show on the road because I swear if I have to listen to them chant for another minute I'm going to say 'fuck the ritual' and eat one of them just to shut him up!"

Father Donlan began backing towards the door and Angelus' scaly brow raised. "Care to share why you look so nervous now, Father?" The Priest looked like he wanted to make a break for the door so Angelus moved to stand in front of said door, blocking any hope of escape. "I'm not seeing the happy-joy-missions a go-look from you, Donlan." Angelus' red eyes narrowed and he grabbed the priest by the collar, hauling the old man up off his feet. "Where's my body?" he asked in a quiet, but menacing voice.

Father Donlan let out a squeak. "He didn't show up!" he babbled, tears flooding his eyes as terror overwhelmed him. He felt the snarl reverberate in Angelus' chest and he began to pray, scared to the point of nearly wetting his pants as the demon glared at him like he was something he wanted to crush—or worse—dissect .

Furious, Angelus dropped him barely resisting the urge to rip the old man's throat out for his incompetence, but then he thought of Angel and all his responsibility issues came to mind and his eyes narrowed. "Something's wrong," he muttered. "I know my goody-goody soul and he'd never duck out like that. Something happened and I have to know what." Angelus glared down at his green scaly hands and with a short roar of rage he realized he couldn't even go out looking for his erstwhile body. "Dammit!" he snapped, clenching his fists.

"Well, maybe he was sick…" Father Donlan started, only to bite back his words when Angelus shot him a furious look, his pointy teeth flashing as he growled. The old priest stumbled back a step in fright. "Or something like that," he finished quietly.

Angelus paced. "No. I feel it, something's wrong." He paused and rolled his red eyes as the chanting of the Svera Priests got louder. "And that damned chanting…" His jaw tightened and a rumble sounded in his chest. "I can't take anymore of it!" he gritted out. Suddenly his eyes lit on the Priest and they began to glow a blood red. "Okay—plan B. Since you fucked up the ritual," the demon said with a crafty smile, "you get to fix it." With a cry of sheer terror Father Donlan turned and ran for the door, but Angelus was there long before him. "Unh-unh-uh," he taunted, wagging a finger in the priest's face. "This party is just getting started. If Agent Booth won't come to me…I'll go to him. And your body…" Angelus' gaze raked over the Priest's stocky, but aging frame, "will have to do," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"No-no—please Angelus…" the priest begged, but Angelus simply shook his head and clamped a hand over Donlan's mouth as he dragged the struggling clergyman out the door and down the hallway where the Svera Priests were chanting away in preparation for the Resurrection spell.

He flung open the door. The seven priests' heads shot up when he entered the room. The chanting ground to a halt and the priests all took a quick step back, their fear of the demon obvious. Angelus tossed Father Donlan into the center of the circle. "Okay, listen up—change of plans. Put me in his body for now—"

One of the Priests' raised a brow. "This is the body you choose?"

Angelus growled in frustration as he gave the man a look that said, 'are you serious?' The white haired, sky blue eyed Priest took a quick step away from the mercurial tempered demon. Angelus smirked, good mood restored as their fear wafted to his nostrils. "No, this isn't the body I'd choose you moron, but it's a body available." The Priest looked like he was going to say more and Angelus cut him off with a sharp wave of a hand. "Don't worry about what I'm doing! Just do the God-damned ritual and put me in the old man for now," he bit out angrily.

The Priests all looked at each other and Angelus gave a toothy grin. "Oh…and keep on chanting because I'll be back with my body by tonight and you better be prepared to do it all over again," he said almost pleasantly, but there was no mistaking the threat in his voice.

The Priests looked at each other warily. The spell was a powerful one—doing it once was a chore, but twice…?! The demon was asking a lot, but the fear of Angelus made them all nod. "As you wish, Angelus,' the Priest who'd spoken earlier said as he turned to gather the herbs and other tools they'd need for the ritual.

Jeffersonian Medico/Legal Lab:

Buffy stormed into the lab. "Dr Brennan," she called out from beneath the dais. "Hello…Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan glanced up from the remains she was studying, a frown marring her features as she took off the magnifying glasses she was wearing. She went the railing of the platform and looked down to see Buffy standing there. Her frown deepened when she looked for and didn't see Booth accompanying the blond Slayer. "Ms. Summers?" she replied. "It is Ms. Summers, right?"

Buffy nodded. "Call me Buffy and I don't have a lot of time so can you come down here? I seriously need to talk to you."

Tempe shook her head. "I'm in the middle of this case Ms.—um—Buffy. You've been dating Booth, surely you know that."

"Yep, I do, but this kind-a has something to do with the case, so can you please come down here so we can talk in private," Buffy said as she noticed the rest of Dr. Brennan's team gathering around to listen to their conversation.

Brennan too had noticed Hodgins, Angela and Zack take pause in their work to blatantly eavesdrop—which wasn't all that difficult considering the young woman was yelling from beneath the platform. "Fine," she said. She marched across the floor, swiping her card quickly before coming down the stairs to meet Buffy. "I'm not sure exactly what you can offer this case, but I want you to understand I don't like being disturbed in my lab," Brennan told Buffy bluntly. "The only reason I'm even discussing this with you is because Booth obviously trusts you," she said as she led Buffy to her office.

Buffy's eyes widened a bit at Brennan's brusque, straight forward manner. "Okay, not exactly the welcome I was hoping for…but she didn't throw me out either," Buffy muttered under her breath. Now if only no one discovered those two unconscious guards she left in the supply closet…

Rebecca Stinson's house.

Angel sat in the car for several minutes gathering up the nerve to go up the steps to the front door. His memories as Booth had hit him almost as soon as he'd walked outside his apartment earlier. It had been a shocking revelation as he remembered everything from being a childhood with an alcoholic, abusive father, to being a sniper—which he found ironic, even in this life he was a killer. He remembered almost marrying Rebecca and then Parker…That had almost brought him to his knees. On the heels of learning he'd lost one son, he remembered he had another. Blinding sorrow had mixed with joy, melding together, twisting and turning until Angel wasn't sure what he was feeling anymore. It was a bizarre conflict of emotions and he'd gotten so furious at the people inside—he'd just left.

Why the hell had they made him remember? He'd been damned happy as Seeley Booth. Hell, he'd even found and fallen for Buffy again! That had simply blown Angel away in a manner he hadn't felt since the first time he'd laid eyes on her. She truly was his soul-mate. He no longer had any doubts, but he was seriously pissed off at her right now so he had to sort out his feelings before talking to her. He pocketed his keys and stared at Rebecca's house again. A woman he'd never really loved, but had memories of loving. A woman he had a child with. Was Parker even his? He had to know and the only way to do that was to see the boy. Angel's gut told him he'd know—maybe Connors soul was in Parker. It gave him hope. He opened the door and headed up the walkway, brows drawn down into a frown as he tried to come up with a reasonable excuse to be here since it wasn't his 'visiting' day.

He knocked on the door. To hell with excuses, he needed to see Parker—end of story.

Rebecca opened the door and her smile faded as she saw him standing there. "Seeley," she said, standing in the doorway and not inviting him in. "What are you doing here?" Rebecca noticed his expression and hers turned to one of apprehension. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Angel replied. "I just…" He swallowed hard. "I just wanted to see Parker real quick. Can I come in?" he asked softly.

Something seemed off about him to Rebecca so she stepped aside and let him in. "He's up in his room. Are you sure you're okay?" she asked again, laying a hand on his arm.

Angel looked down at the small blond. Well, at least they'd gotten his type right; he couldn't help but think as visuals of him and this woman having sex floated across his mind. But it had never happened—well, actually in the last few weeks it had, but it wasn't really him. She was waiting for him to answer so he nodded, shaking off the lingering images. "No, everything is fine, Rebecca, I just needed to see him. Thanks," he said, heading up the stairs to his son's room—feeling strange that he knew the way even though he, himself, had never really been here.

He opened the door and poked his head inside. The boy was beautiful and Angel stared in shock as he suddenly noticed the striking resemblance the boy bore to Buffy. Wide hazel eyes, wavy dark blond hair—Buffy's natural color, not the bleach blond she'd been going with the last few years, but when Parker yelled 'dad' and leaped off his bed to race across the room and into Angel's open arms, it was the smile that snared his attention and held it. That was Buffy's grin. Angel clutched the boy to him as he counted back the years and days to the day that never was. His knees wobbled and he fell back, still holding Parker. "Oh my God," he murmured as he realized Parker was born nearly exactly nine months after the day that never was. It hit him like a Mack truck driving straight into his gut. This was his child—his and Buffy's.

He swallowed back the overwhelming emotions coursing through him. Parker wouldn't understand. "Hey buddy," he said as his son squeezed his neck tight and giggled at how his dad had toppled over. Angel gave a shaky laugh, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. "Hey, whoa there—not so rough on your old dad," he said, heart soaring even as he raged at the powers for nearly taking this away from them.

Parker gave him another hard hug. "Aw, come on dad, you're like a super-hero. You can take it."

"A super hero?" he asked, brow shooting up. "Really?" His face broke into a grin that lit up his handsome face. "That's…" he paused, "totally cool," he said. "Is that really how you see your old man?"

Parker giggled again. "You're not old—well, not that old, dad," he amended, a teasing sparkle in those green eyes that reminded Angel of Buffy so badly it nearly choked him up all over again. Parker leaned back in his dad's arms. "So what-cha doin' here?"

Angel shrugged. "Just wanted to say goodnight."

Parker seemed to ponder that and then as if finding it a valid excuse he shrugged too. "Okay. You looked kind-a weird when you came in that's all."

"Weird?" Angel asked, brow skyrocketing again. "How did I look weird?"

"Oh I dunno—like you were gonna cry or something, but that's silly right?"

Angel laughed. "Hey guys cry too."

"They do? But not you dad. I've never seen you cry."

"Oh I've cried," Angel said, picking up his son.

"Over what?" parker asked in disbelief as Angel carried him back to bed.

"About…" Angel drew a blank. He certainly couldn't tell him some of the things that had made him cry—he'd scare the kid half to death! "I cried when you were born," he finally said. Parker looked at him like he was kidding so Angel leaned down, tucking the covers around Parker's small frame lovingly. "When I found out I had a son—I cried because I was so happy," he said softly.

Parker seemed to find that excusable and he smiled. "Does Mom know you cried?"

Angel thought of Buffy, even though Parker meant the stranger downstairs. "No and don't tell her," he said in a stage whisper.

"Why?" Parker asked, his voice dropping to a whisper too.

A slow grin spread across Angel's face. "Because then she might think I'm a sissy, right? And we don't want her to think that."

Parker burst into laughter. "No way. Mom says you're like the bravest guy she ever met."

That floored Angel and he blinked at Parker for several seconds. "Really?"

"Sure dad, come on you save people every day. That's so cool!" the boy exclaimed.

Angel felt his chest swell. These were the things he'd missed with Connor—he wasn't missing them again. "I love you," he said and placed a kiss on Parker's forehead.

The boy grimaced. "Aw dad, kissing is just gross you know?"

Angel's laugh was husky with emotion. "Well, you'll have to deal," he said getting to his feet. He grinned and brushed back the hair from Parker's face. "Sometimes your old man just needs to get mushy—am I still a hero?"

"O'course," Parker said as if that was a stupid question. "Even Superman gets all mushy sometimes."

Angel touched the boy one last time. This was his son—his and Buffy's child created on a day that was so perfect it had been tucked away into the farthest regions of his psyche because even to think about brought a pain so excruciating it was nearly debilitating. "Goodnight Parker," he said softly, before he turned and headed for the door.

"G'night dad," the boy answered, snuggling under his covers with a yawn. "Love you too," he mumbled as his eyes drooped closed and he drifted into sleep.

At the doorway, Angel paused, watching him a second longer before he turned out the light and shut the door with a soft click. Outside his son's room he leaned against the wall as his heart raced—that was something he was still getting used to. He put a hand to his chest as if that would help. What the hell should he do? He knew that was Buffy's son—he felt her soul in that boy. Should he tell her? His gut churned as he pictured her emotional response. No—they had to face Angelus first. Getting into the day that wasn't would only leave them more vulnerable to Angelus' mind games. Angel pushed off the wall. He wouldn't tell Buffy—not yet, but he did intend to get the story out of Whistler—even if he had to rouse up some of Angelus' more creative torture techniques to do so.

After a brief thank you and goodbye to the woman who wasn't really the mother to his child, Angel headed out into the night; his only thought was on talking to Buffy. He had to tell her he forgave her and that he loved her. He'd thought she was lost to him, but somehow she'd found him. He didn't want to waste anymore time being angry at her. Too much time had already been lost. No, tonight he wanted to hold her in his arms—his—as Angel. He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to watch her face as she came under him—over him—next to him. Hell, he just wanted to make love to her as himself period. They were facing possible death once again, they deserved a night together as Angel and Buffy—the Powers, at the very least, owed them that, he thought as he hopped into his Suburban.

His phone rang as he started the engine. He grabbed it out of his jacket pocket. "Booth," he answered automatically, frowning slightly as he did so.

"So you're not missing," Bones said.

He frowned. "Huh?"

"Your girlfriend is here and she told me you were missing…" Angel rolled his eyes. He should have known Buffy wouldn't wait patiently for him to come back. "Booth, I don't want to alarm you, but I think she's unstable. She came in here with a story that would make a Stephen King novel seem like non-fiction. Can you get over here because she's a little hysterical and I think she also injured some guards on the premises too."

"Shit!" he cursed under his breath. "Listen Bones—don't call security. I'm on my way," Angel said, falling into Booth almost, but not quite naturally as he worried over what exactly Buffy had told the ever scientific Dr. Brennan.

He shook his head. "Great," he muttered as he pulled away from the curb, resisting the urge to put the pedal to the metal and floor it. Suddenly he noticed the switch that read lights/siren and he grinned. "Why not," he said to himself and flipped the switch. Blue and red flashing lights flashed in his grill and the siren began to wail. Angel gunned the engine, feeling better as he ran red lights at will, eager to get to Buffy before she got arrested or worse—told Bones about their past…

Okay guys…hoped you liked that chappie. I have two left and yes, they're done!! I will be posting a chappie a week on this for the next two weeks…and then it's over and I'll get back to BoD as well as my Vampire Diaries fic. BUT—I want to get this one out there to all of you who have waited so patiently. THANK YOU!! Again, you are simply the best and I love you all. Now feed the little beast so she feeds me. Thanks again for all your support and patience. :) :) :)

Xoxo

Jen