Me and Emily

Part Four

Disclaimer: see the first chapter. The lyric, once again, belongs to Rachel Procter.

Author's notes: life sucks right now, got bit by the neighbor's dog, so I wanted to get some fluff out to you guys. Ain't it ironic? Lol….anyway, here's the last chapter.

I want to thank everyone for reviewing the story, 11 in all as of right now. Queen Boadicea, it seems that yet again, your wish is my command. A bit of Angel thought….

And I would like to know what you think of the ending. Like I said at the beginning, when I started this, I had thoughts of dragging it out much longer, making it more angsty and all that, but it didn't play out as I wanted coughstupidmusecough.


It was a smelly ride back to the hotel, and it was also silent.

"Wait," she said once they reached the hotel, and they were on their way in. Angel stopped, looking back at her. "It's light out."

He sighed, "It happened a long time ago. Things were bad…there's this prophecy…but I started an apocalypse just to stop it, and so they gave me this," he raised his arms, "I'm not human, and I'm not a vampire. I can be staked, crosses still bug me, holy water too, but sunlight has no effect, and I won't age. I can't die by natural means, old age, sickness; it doesn't bother me. It's not the prophecy I knew, but it works to our advantage."

She just stared at him in awe and shock.

"Let's get inside, before we draw attention" He led her inside, her still too awed to speak.

Words came, however, after she had showered and changed, "H-How long?" she asked, sitting on the circular couch.

"Five years now," he said, five frustrating years where she had been missing.

"Wow."

"Yeah. So…how have you been?"

"Good. I got a bachelor's degree in fitness and health. I was going to be a fitness instructor but…"

"Emily?"

"Yeah," she took the easy way out. She didn't have to tell him she settled.

"What about you-"

"Dad," Connor came out of the office, interrupting, "There's someone on the phone for you," he finished after seeing Buffy and the look of surprise on her face.

"I'll be right back." After he had entered the office, and Connor had gone into the kitchen, she went up to her room, reeling from the blow.

"Angel," he barked, a bit perturbed that he hadn't gotten the chance to tell her about Connor.

"It's Willow. I think I have a lead on Buffy. And she's in trouble. There was this story in the Times yesterday. One sec…" there was the rustling of paper, "Eric Jordan, 26, was found early Wednesday in his apartment on 88th. Cause of death still unknown. His wife, Buffy, and daughter are missing. If anyone has information on their whereabouts, contact New York Police, 27th precinct," she stopped to catch her breath.

"Will, I've got to go, I'll call you back, ok?" he said, his mind racing. IS that why she had come to LA? Not to move here with whomever was Emily's father, but to get away from something?

"Wait-" he hung up. He went back into the lobby, but it was empty. He climbed the stairs and knocked softly on her door before entering.

"Who's Connor?" she asked, her back turned. She was staring out the window. Emily could be seen asleep in the next room.

He sighed, "Darla, brought back by Wolfram and Hart, seduced me. She wanted to relieve me of my soul, but I didn't love her. Nine months later…

"He grew up in a demon dimension where time flows differently. He'd be about eight now, if he hadn't gone. He came back, tried to kill me. Things happened, including what ultimately killed Cordy, and he tried to kill himself. So I signed on with Wolfram and Hart so they'd give him a real family, a normal life. He wasn't supposed to remember, but somehow he figured it out. Now he helps out around here.

"How about you tell me about Eric?"

She breathed out harshly, "That didn't take long. He was…convenient. He was good looking and good to me while we dated, and he convinced me to marry him, though my heart wasn't in it. I-I just wanted to forget. You and everyone I had lost…

"He wasn't such a nice guy once we were married. To say he was abusive is an understatement. But I took it. He could never draw a sound out of me, never made me bruise for more than an hour. He never made me cry like you used to, with just a look, or lack there of. And that infuriated him. But for some reason I didn't fight back. I didn't run away.

"But then Emily was born, and the abuse continued up until I went into labor. Somehow I managed to keep her, and she's healthy. But then he started beating me because of her….

"On Monday, he reached for her when he was hitting me, and I lost it. I never loved him, and had no qualms in killing him. But now I'm a murderer, and Emily will be taken away from me… So I ran. I ended up here by chance, just hoping to get lost in the bigness of the city… But then you found me…" She looked down at the windowsill, at her white knuckles, her fingers digging into the wood.

"It's ok," he moved to her and took her in his arms, their first real contact since she had arrived, "I'll take care of it. You'll have to give a statement, and maybe we can use some of your slaying scars to help our case, but I won't let them take Emily away from you."

She turned, looking up at him, tears in her eyes, "Why would you help me after all I've done?"

"Because I love you." He bent down to kiss her, and as their lips touched, there was a loud noise and light went through him. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground.

Emily in the next room awoke and started screaming.

"Angel?" she bent down, touching his arm, and was burned by the heat of him.

"That was some kiss," he murmured, and she smiled. "Go take care of Emily, I'm fine." She nodded and left.

When she returned he was sitting in a chair, not moving. "Angel?"

"I guess it was it after all…"

"What?"

"The prophecy, the apocalypse. I have some research I have to do, but I guess it wouldn't take full effect until the love of my life was here."

"What?" she asked, confused.

He stood, coming over to her, "I seem to be very much human." He touched her arm and she flinched once more at the heat that radiated from him. She stared up at him, an awed look on her face.

That afternoon, Friday, she met with some LA cops. Her arm was in a sling, and her eye was a yellowish color. Angel carried Emily. She told them the story, and her appearance convinced them that she was the victim of domestic violence, and let her go without a scratch. She apologized profusely about running, telling them she didn't know what to do, didn't know where to go. Some tears fell, and they took pity on her. Angel was amazed about how good an actor she was.

They let her go about an hour later, after signing a statement that would be sent to the 27th precinct. She knew her name would be in the paper again, but she didn't care. She had Em, and as they walked out, hand in hand, she looked up at him, and she had her angel.

Later that night, after he helped her feed and bathe Emily, they put her to sleep in the big bed, and tiptoed into the living area.

"Thank you," she whispered, standing in front of him.

"No problem." He pulled her closer and bent to kiss her. She stood on her tiptoes to make it easier for him, to deepen the kiss.

"I love you," she whispered after he had released her lips.

"I love you."

That night, they all slept in the big bed, Emily in the middle.

Maybe I'll find someone to love the both of us

END