Hey all, sorry for the slight delay posting this was actually ready to go yesterday and given how much time I spent online yesterday I'm not quite sure how I managed to not post it… but it's here now!

I really would appreciate a few more reviews… I know I have my beloved regulars (recently Out-of-Reality, Brit, Sphynxx6 deserve much much thankfulness on my part), but I'm still pretty curious to see if anyone else is reading this… and if not why not? Constructive Criticism is perfectly welcome.

Part Twenty-One

baby things ain't been so good at home and the people that you loved never cared at all you wanna run away that's all you know

Angelus growled, on his feet in an instant and leaning over the table so his face was mere inches from Giles'. "I told you-"

Giles shook his head. "It wasn't us."

Angelus cocked his head sideway and straightened his back, so he towered over the others in the room. "What happened, Rupert." He demanded.

"We arrived at the Watchers Council four days ago to find that every senior ranking member of the council, and every watcher whose Slayers still held their alliance to the Council had gathered the night before in the conference room to discuss what was to be done about us."

"The Junior staff all went home," Wesley continued, "when they arrived for work the next morning they found every single one of those men dead in the conference room."

Oz blinked. "Well that's convenient."

"But… if it wasn't us, who was it?" Willow mused.

"Not to be rude, but why are we looking the gift horse in the mouth?" Faith argued, "evil people trying to kill us are dead. Why aren't we partying?"

Doyle shrugged. "It does seem like we should be rolling around in happy fun time."

Giles sighed. "Unfortunately, I suspect it's more likely that we must expect dire consequences."

"Do we know anything useful?" Angel asked quietly.

"Only this…" Wesley rummaged in his pockets for a moment before pulling out a grainy black and white CCTV camera photograph. "Quentin's Secretary said that the Council has been acting under guidance from an outside source for the past two months. The orders to have Buffy removed to the Initiative and again to have her killed came from this woman."

Angel studied the photograph, the poor quality of the photograph made the image of the female hard to decipher, but her long curly dark hair and pale skin contrasted enough that along with her height and build, Angel knew her.

"That photograph is from the night of the murders."

"Did you manage to gleam anything from the crime scene?"

Wesley shook his head. "Unfortunately some prat of an under secretary called MI12 they where in and out before we could do much of anything, so we've got nothing more solid than the evidence of some extremely frightened cleaners."

Giles studied Angelus carefully, since hearing of the deaths of those Council men he'd been oddly quiet for a man who had wished them dead so soundly a hundred times before. As if sensing his gaze on him, Angel brought his eyes up to Giles' and they met for a moment, with a note of pure understanding.

"This girl is an Immortal, she can die but as soon as she does she instantly reincarnates and when she does she always looks the same, she lived in Galway in 1877 under the name Kaitlyn O'Connor." Angel fired at them Wesley was hastily scribbling these facts down next to Giles, muttering to himself under his breath.

"Well, I know it's not perfect but we could just kill her, it would get rid of her…" Faith started.

"But only for a while. And then she'd be really pissed." Doyle finished.

"She's dangerous." Giles commented.

"Extremely. And she does not like me." Angel added, sighing a hint of fear flashed through Angelus' pure black eyes. "If she was involved with the Council it is mostly likely the entirety of the last few months was machinated by her. No one is to go anywhere alone until we work out some way to kill her for good." Grabbing his leather duster from where it had been lying over a chair back Angel pulled it on. "I'm going to go check on Buffy and Connor."

Crouched down between the toilet and sink, Buffy rubbed a tooth brush in bleach and started scrubbing the back of the sink again. Watching the bristles run over the limescale stains again and again with no effect she scrubbed harder and harder, barely noticing the way the bristles where now barely touching the sink as they had been pushed aside by the plastic head which equally did nothing to the stains. Hearing a final lurching snap Buffy watched as the toothbrush finally gave up the ghost and snapped in half from the pressure she had been putting it under. Slowly the head floated to the ground and bounced up from the spotless tile, splattering the white with the grey yellow concoction that had been spread over the bristles.

Pulling her knees up against herself Buffy pulled in a tight breath and licked the tears from the salty tracks that had been worming their way down her cheeks for the past hour. Her mother was coming tomorrow… she glanced at the clock. Today, she corrected herself, and nothing was even remotely ready. She was completely and utterly screwed.

She felt him long before she heard his footsteps in the hall, calling her name softly, so as not to wake Connor. It was long minutes before he saw her there half hidden from view, curled up on the bathroom floor. Moving in front of her, he squatted to match her height level, and she watched the muscles in his legs, hidden by a pair of black jeans, shifting to accommodate the change of stance. His fingers were under her chin drawing her face up to his, and his big brown eyes where on hers, boring into her soul.

"What's wrong, baby?" He whispered.

Her eyes dropped. "I'm not ready."

There was a long pause. "For what?"

Buffy smiled weakly. "For my mother. For all the recrimination, and all the implication that it's because I lack a strong male role model." She sighed softly, her breath coming out in a short puff. "I don't know how to defend what we have."

"Does it matter if she won't approve? You told Doyle it didn't."

Buffy paused, twice opening her mouth to say something before she managed to get out. "She's my mom. It's different."

"I never really knew my mother." Angel admitted. "Life wasn't like that… when I was alive."

"What about your father?"

Angelus growled. "We were never on the best of terms." Sitting down properly on the floor, he waited while Buffy crawled into his lap, her head resting on his chest before continuing. "I was the eldest, and I had three younger sisters. The oldest of those was married when I was changed, the others where still at home with the nanny."

"Where you married?"

Angel laughed. "No, I wasn't married. I was much too lazy to go to all the trouble of marrying a girl."

"Then what did you do?"

Angel shrugged, and he felt Buffy's weight shift against his chest as he did so. "Nothing. I was rich I didn't have to."

Twisting in his grip, Buffy faced him, so her legs where slung on either side of his hips. "Did you like it better then? Better than you do now?"

Angel laughed out loud at that. "I could never like a world without you in it, better than a world with you." Feeling his words slip through her senses, Buffy blushed slightly, and leaning in closer she brushed her lips against his.

"Me neither." His hands skimmed down her body, resting on her hips and she sighed softly at the luscious feel of their jeans rubbing against each other. "I really need a shower." She moaned, smelling the overpowering scent of bleach even over his rough Angel-smell.

Faith sat shotgun in Spike's black De Soto as they tailed the witch and her wolfboy back to Oz's apartment. It was weird after two years of seeing Spike calling all the shots to have Angelus suddenly jump in and take charge, as though he'd always been the one that ruled the Order. She knew Angelus had only the vaguest of interest in the ways of the numerous vampire orders, and then only when it amused him to be involved.

Faith remembered the time before, when she'd still been trying to finish high school and the old master, Nest, had haunted her every dream with visions of her death. In the end it hadn't happened that way. Nest and Darla his favoured child had wanted to drag the world to hell with them and Angelus and Spike, favouring the happy meal on legs existence they where living to any numerous hell dimensions might provide, stepped into the fray. Faith only met him briefly that first time, Nest had been right in front of her, her neck in his vice like grip, when Angelus had smashed him round the head with a burning candle to attract his attention.

Faith ran.

Once everything had settled down, she heard that Angelus' now ruled the order, but she never saw him, and after a few brief run ins with Spike they formed their shaky reliance which had rapidly formed into an even less stable relationship.

The more Spike let her in and the more she pushed the council away, the more she understood that being truly evil had far more to do with paperwork than she had ever imagined.

Being sat in the car with him, watching as his eyes constantly watched the cars surrounding them, casually inspecting the passengers for anyone with the dark curly hair and pale skin of the girl in the photograph, it finally really felt like she was fighting the bad guys again.

Buffy stretched languidly on her bed and watched Angelus sated form under half closed lids. Curling her body around his, she laid her head on his chest, and felt his arms automatically warp around her body and pull her closer. Ear pressed against his chest she listened to the rumbling roar of his unnecessary breath and smiled softly to herself. "Are you purring?"

Angel kissed the top of her head. "Maybe."

Flexing the muscles in her arm, Buffy sat up distractedly. "I'm not going to sleep." Her eyes darted around the room. "I want to patrol."

Angelus eyes shot open, and his rumbling purr rapidly became a growl. "No."

Glaring, Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "Why not?"

"Just not tonight Buffy, There's no one else here - we can't leave Connor alone." He reasoned.

"I suppose."

Moulding herself back to Angel's side, she shifted distractedly. "Tell me about your family then."

He sighed. "What do you want to know?"

She shrugged. "What was your name?"

"Liam O'Connor." He replied shortly, his body tensing, she moved away and he sighed softly, pulling her closer, feeling the need to feel her warm flesh close to him. "My sisters where called Niamh, Alish and Kaitlyn." He added.

"What where they like?"

He tensed again. "There isn't much to say Buffy."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You grew up with them, something must've happened."

"No, they never really lived." He closed his eyes. "They couldn't. I killed them all." Buffy recoiled from him, and Angelus watched her with black hooded eyes. "I'm a vampire, Buffy. Or did you forget?"

She shook her head vehemently and cautiously lay back down beside him. "That's one thing I've never forgotten."

"Then why don't you flinch when I touch you? Knowing the blood on my hands?" He asked her.

Running the palm of her hand over the lines of his body, she paused when she reached his hand and entwined her fingers in his. "I know the things you did, Angel, I knew them before the initiative took me, before I ever really knew you. And I wanted you anyway, you're different now."

"Why does it matter? Why does your soul make a difference?" He asked her angrily, shifting position to face her.

"I love you. That's reason enough for anything." She said and curling into his side once more, she laid one hand over his still heart. "It's not a curse, this soul inside you. It's a gift." She muttered sleepily.

Watching as she drifted into sleep curled up at the side of a self confessed murderer Angel ran one hand through her blonde locks. Maybe it was selfish to have locked her in this bond with him, maybe it was wrong that he now dictated almost every part of her life, with the limitations of how little time they could spend apart now there bond was as severely strained as he had let it become.

Undoubtedly her life would have been better if he had never once been in it, and his would have been a lot simpler too, Spike would have kept running the order, whilst Angel was now reluctantly running it with Buffy's persuasion, he wouldn't be compelled to help the hopeless to keep the girl nestled at his side happy, and he would feel no nagging guilt over the deaths of those that had once been so close to him.

Perhaps he was wrong, he wasn't dictating Buffy's life, long ago he'd let her dictate all of his, though she didn't know it. Curling toward her and shutting his eyes, Angel sighed deeply. He wouldn't have it any other way.

TBC… Again…

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