Disclaimer: I will not claim to own anything of this story. Joss Whedon created the characters, Billie Letts wrote "Where the Heart Is", which this is based on.

Rating: This will be rated R! Sorry kiddies, but I like using inappropriate language.

Author's Notes: Sorry for the long wait. I got home about a week and a half ago, just after I finished my first finals. Just in case you are curious, I passed everything and will be attending school for at least another term. Not only have I been recovering, but because my mom would not let me bring my faithful computer up for the holiday, I had to steal my brother's, re- format it, and then install Word. Anyway, updates! This is a small one, but I promise to put another one up for Christmas. Even though the Christian population will not be reading it because they are celebrating the birth of Christ. I, on the other hand, will be celebrating the many presents Santa brought me. Holidays are fun! By the way, I put a link to my diary on my main page, so if you have time to waste and you can't get sex . . . ah, don't waste your time. It's not worth it.

PS: Happy Hanukkah, Emma! ____________________________________________________________________________

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Chapter Twelve- End of the Line

Angel never got used to the feel of handcuffs.

After all those years, after all of those arrests, he had never been able to feel comfortable with his hands chained together, the cold steel pressing into his wrists.

Nervously, he glanced around the courtroom, and it finally struck him what deep shit he was in.

He caught the eye of one J. Whistler, his court-appointed defense attorney. Whistler managed a small grin when he met his client's gaze, although it was forced and false. A man with crooked teeth, bad hair, and a worse taste in clothing, he was more interested in getting home than defending the obviously guilty man.

"If the prosecution is finished, I will read the verdict," announced the judge, an older, graying man nearing retirement from high atop his desk.

The District Attorney glanced up from his notes, which were discreetly covering a copy of the newspaper, and pushed his glasses higher up onto his nose.

"Not at this time, Your Honor," he sighed, turning his attention back to the cartoons.

Edging forward on his creaky wooden chair, Angel began to chew lightly on his fingernails. Just as his fate was to be decided, a voice, one he hoped would remain silent throughout the proceedings spoke up.

"Just a moment, Your Honor."

Grimacing, Angel looked over to his right, and studied the smug face that belonged to Assistant DA Lindsey McDonald. A few moments earlier, Angel had been witness to this man's obsession with putting people away for a horrendous amount of time. He had put a petty drug dealer in for fourteen years, and did it with complete joy shining through his eyes, almost like he was anally raping the man right in front of the judge.

("Your honor," THRUST, "You can't," THRUST, "Deny," THRUST, "The facts." THRUST THRUST.)

Now, he was prepared to give Angel sloppy seconds.

"Before you sentence this man to his jail term, you might just want to know who 'Angel' really is." He stood up, opening up a rather large file and flipping through it.

"Mr. McDonald," began the judge, folding his hands together, "I don't think the courtroom would be interested in another example of just how great a lawyer YOU think you are."

"Your honor . . ." A light red tint appeared in the corners of his face, but he pushed on. "This man has, remarkably, gotten off fairly well during this trial. The parents of the little girl don't wish to press charges, and the owner of the truck just wants his vehicle back. You will probably decide his sentence based on the drug possession charges, which, given your past history, will only get him in for a maximum of eighteen months."

Glaring daggers, the judge began to growl. "Just what is the point?"

A tiny smile flicked up on his mouth, and he spared a quick glance at Angel.

"I don't think the constituents of this great county want someone like Mr. Metatron released so quickly."

He stepped around the prosecution table, and took a place right in the middle of the floor.

"Liam 'Angel' Metatron has served a combined six years in prison for various crimes. Most of them are small incidents: drunkenly misconduct, disorderly behavior, shoplifting . . . The most recent one took place less than a month ago in Arizona. But, that's just the beginning. He served one year in a Nevada correctional institute for three counts of aggressive assault. In '99, he was held on suspicion of the robbery of an Idaho Mini Mart, but the evidence was inconclusive. Finally, he has jumped bail TWICE, once for selling pot in Seattle, and for stabbing a man during a bar fight in Portland."

Clearing his throat, grin firmly in place, McDonald set Angel's criminal file on the table, right in front of the DA who was currently involved in another episode of "Get Fuzzy".

"You have to ask yourself, Your Honor, if you want someone like this roaming the streets, and how comfortable you think this would make your supporters feel?"

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As inmate 3674514, Angel became accustom to the new world that was the Corcoran State Prison. He never spoke to any other inmate unless they addressed him, he tried to never be alone with one of the burlier inmates in the shower, and he never ate the green shit disguised as Sunday lunch.

There were a few incidents in the beginning. To put it easily, he was not able to shit correctly for a month.

This was to be his life for the next five years, two if they got him paroled in time. But, he somehow found a way to live through this torturous hell.

He found music.

Using a guitar some inmate across the hall traded him, he taught himself the basics. Soon, he was writing songs, composing epic pieces that would have the other inmates plotting his demise when he strummed a B-flat chord at three in the morning.

He wrote songs, full of pain and misery, about loss and betrayal. But, he didn't realize whom he wrote these songs for, because it all seemed to pour out of a disguised wound. It wasn't until he was older, and just a bit wiser, that he realized he wrote these songs for Buffy and his child.

* * * MySweetAudrina- Ten snaps! Awesome! Thank you very much, and I hope you like the rest.

Imzadi- Well, are you happy now darling? Just kidding. I hope you think his little cameo was appropriate, if short. But I keep my promise. As for Darla, lemme just ask if you would rather have Joyce as that character? Joyce is a sweetie, and I wouldn't want to portray her as a cold bitch. She's too good for that.

Tobert- Daily raping for Angel would be a good thing, but I actually plan on redeeming this guy, so that would be a bit cruel. In the actual story, the character I made Darla into takes the money, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

chrestomanci- You are also a bitch. You haven't emailed me in quite some time, and I am having some withdrawls. Also, as for your post on my journal, Orlando Bloom is so incredibly hot, and the elves are cool mother fuckers! I miss you and everyone else in the dorm, and I can't wait until January for our reunion. Have a great X-mas, if I don't post before. Tell your family I said hi!

FirstAidKid- You are too kind to me. I update as soon as I can, hon, so be patient.

Atterb- Next chapter is all Spuffy interaction, so hurrah for that!

fashiongrrl- I know it was weird for me to not make Joyce Buffy's mom, but in this way she can be the supportive person Buffy's never had. Thanks for all the compliments.

Comedia- Here's my response to you, slut: I hope you and Diamond Dave's first kid comes out at least with a partially functioning brain. Miss you much, and hopefully you haven't committed any acts of patricide. See you at the airport! Yes, at the airport.

Carmine007- Before I start, please just log in. This name is really crappy, you frigid cow. Also, please do not use responses as a chance for you to tell me about your life, darling. That is what the good lord Sauron invented email for. I love you so much, even though I plan on smothering you in a pillow tonight. Willow/Tara rocks!

AJ Hofacre- ". . . some parts ARE better than the movie" ?!? Is that criticism, my dear? No, I'm just kidding. Thank you.

hells_angel- You are too sweet. I swear to Goddess, all of these responses are, in a way, electronic ego masturbation. But keep it going, because I can't get enough. Again, you are too sweet.

A- Duh. Read the author's notes at the beginning for the disclaimers.

Spuffy- I try to post as soon as I can, so I'm sorry to make you wait.

cindy- New reader? Bonjour! Well, because I am stupid, I have no idea what the rec website is. But, I'm really glad that you like this story.