CHAPTER FOUR

Angel couldn't sleep. He didn't even really try. He half-expected to be dragged out into the sun by just about anyone at this point but no one bothered to come yell at him or even checked to see if he had come home. Finally he was alone in the house with nothing but his thoughts as company. He had done the right thing, hadn't he? Oh, he had done it badly but it was needed. He no longer had anything in common with Buffy that he could see. What sort of future would they have? A few months of floundering around? Some desperate sex trying to hold it together before it became obvious that they shared nothing, that emotion alone couldn't hold them together when there was no common ground under them?

The front door opened and Angel tried to decipher who had come in. The foot falls were nearly imperceptible. That would be Connor. Angel didn't move off his cot. He didn't feel like company. He wasn't about to invite it in—not that a lack of invitation would stop anyone. Connor came down the stairs and Angel still didn't even so much as sit up.

Connor's eyes flicked to the empty rack of pool sticks. "Hid them did you?"

"Didn't seem like the smart thing to have four long wood sticks just lying around," Angel replied sardonically. He didn't like the fact Connor's face was still bruised and swollen. His son had been hurt worse than he had let on.

"Didn't think you were actually a smart person," Connor said, sitting on the edge of the pool table again.

"I'm not in the mood to talk about it, Connor." Angel hoped his son would take the hint.

"Like I give a damn." Connor shook his head, a look of disbelief on his pale face. "You really are something, you know that? I remember you bitching about your dad being a self-righteous bastard and yet you are totally blind to the fact you're no different."

Angel sat up, glaring at him. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think I'm well qualified to talk about how much of a self-righteous bastard you are," Connor snapped. "Or maybe how you take it into your head that you know what's best for everyone and act on it without discussing it. You do it over and over. Look at my life."

Angel went over to him. Even sitting on the pool table, Connor was barely eye to eye with him. "That's not fair. I didn't have any choice. You were a little psychotic."

"I'm not talking about that. I know you had no choice there. I'm talking about before. You wanted me to read books you liked, fight like you do and when it suited you to toss me out you did even knowing I didn't have the first clue about this world because you were so confident you knew what was best and that I'd come running back to you begging for help."

Angel took a step back hearing the venom in Connor's voice. "I was wrong about that."

"And you're wrong now. Why did you do it? Did my falling on my head give you a concussion or are you just an ass?" Connor's expression softened a bit and he waved a hand at his father, giving Angel a chance to explain himself.

Angel went and sat back on his cot. "Probably the latter."

"I thought you loved her. You've been so wrapped up in Buffy since you woke up that there's been no room for anything else," Connor said, sounding a little hurt. Angel felt that pain. Had he squeezed his son out so he could spend more time with Buffy? He didn't think so but maybe and the thought worried him. "Did you even think to tell Nina you're still alive?"

Angel's eyes widened. How could he have forgotten her? He didn't love her but he was fond of her. He averted his gaze. "No. And I do love Buffy."

"So last night was what? Temporary insanity? I'll buy that. It seems to run in our family." Connor made a lemony face. "You're probably to blame for that, too."

Angel eyed him in irritation. "These official dates of ours have shown me something, Connor. Buffy and I have nothing in common. It doesn't matter how we feel. You can not build something that lasts without a foundation."

Connor stared at him then crossed over to the mini-fridge and got out two beers. He tossed one to Angel, opening one for himself. Angel didn't protest that his son was too young and it was a little early to be drinking. He felt the need for alcohol, too. "I'll grant you people with nothing at all in common are doomed. But you can't honestly tell me you and Buffy have nothing in common. You aren't stupid enough to believe that."

"Shut it." He stabbed a finger at his son. "You don't know what you're talking about. You know nothing about me and Buffy."

"I know she should have slain your undead ass long ago. That's her job and yet here you are." Connor shrugged. "So she obviously saw something that stayed her hand. And while we're on the topic of slaying, you have that in common. You both fight evil. Okay sometimes you are evil and I'm still not sure how that all works but the point is, you're on the same side of the fight. You share that. That's a big thing in common."

Angel sucked down half the bottle of beer in one long swallow. Connor was right. They did share that and that was a big thing but it wasn't what he wanted. "I don't want the only thing we have in common to be the darkness, Connor. There has to be something more than that."

"Ah." Connor's blue eyes lit up. "You're pissed that what you have in common isn't all hearts and flowers. You're looking for romance. Did it occur to you that this is more important than that? I don't know much about the romance stuff. No one's ever bothered to teach me that. I want it, too, but I'm not going to kick Faith to the curb because maybe we don't jive all the time on the romance thing."

"I'm not sure you and Faith-"

"Don't go there!" Connor's look was murderous. "This conversation isn't about me and Faith. It's about you doing something really stupid. You want to live Linkin Park's I In the End /I go ahead. I shouldn't care but for some dumb reason I do. So, I guess you're figuring if you hate dance clubs and she doesn't like ballet that's it, you have nothing in common. Maybe it's just that you don't have musical taste in common."

"Linkin Park?" Angel's brow furrowed. What in the hell was his kid talking about?

"I'll play you some later. You'll hate it." Connor grinned viciously, taking a swig of his beer.

"Look, Buffy and I never had anything in common. She hates books and plays and operas." Angel paused, wondering about what he had ever found to make him think they were meant for each other. There had been reasons then. He was sure of that in spite of what he had just said. "All we ever had was this deep strange connection that...I can't even explain it."

"And she was what? A high school grad the last time you spent any real time with her? Don't you think maybe she's changed? You've changed." Connor pointed the mouth of his beer at Angel. "Hell, you became a father since you last seen her, not much of a father for the most part but still."

Angel flinched at that. "Connor, I tried but it never worked. I kept at it until I had nothing left, until I felt like thin-spun cloth but I tried."

"Yes, you did. You tried and you keep trying. You haven't given up on me so why are you giving up now after two bad dates?" Connor's eyes bore into him.

"Because if we have no common ground, I'll just eventually hurt her. It's better to just end it now, get the pain out of the way so she can get out of my shadow."

"Well, we just established you do have common ground so did it ever occur to you to just talk about it? Okay, these two dates sucked. Fine, do you think you could find a way to make it work? No? So what else do you two have in common? Just sit and talk about what you like to do like this was the first time you met. Pretend you found her ad on the internet and you're at the coffeehouse. Tell her your interests, get her to tell you hers. There has to be something. Maybe it's not good. Me and Faith, we have a lot in common and some of it is seriously scary shit." Connor looked positively haunted. "That night you dyed my hair, I didn't pass out drunk because we were having fun. Okay it started that way but Faith and I started talking and we hit on some of the bad shit and we just got plastered. Maybe not the mature way to handle it but at least now we know." Connor wrapped his arms around his chest, curling in on himself.

Angel wanted to go over and hold him, to protect Connor from that ugliness but he knew that was likely to end up with Connor slamming a pool ball upside his temple. "I'm sorry, Connor."

Connor unfolded himself. "I'm not. I'm glad we know. And you know what, you and Buffy worked together to do this to me." Connor fluffed his blue hair. "Shows you have a wicked sense of humor in common. Why don't you talk and see what else you might have in common? You'll be surprised at what talking can reveal. Want to know what I found out just by talking? Did you know that you're the most important man in Faith's life?"

Angel shook his head.

"Well, you are. You're the first man she sees as ever believing in her. She knows Giles tried and I think there's something there with Xander but it missed with her somehow. You're the only reason she's still here and not evil. I know that because we talk to each other. I also know she's afraid no one will ever want her for more than just sex. That's why I took her with me shopping last night. I wanted her to see I saw more in her than her body but if we hadn't talked about it I might not have known she was afraid." Connor hopped off the pool table.

Angel hated to admit it but his kid made sense. "What makes you think Buffy will ever speak to me again?"

"She really shouldn't but maybe if you tell her you were out of your head with worry last night she might be forgiving." Connor smirked. "I'll go fire up Willow's computer. You can order flowers and jewelry from there. You'll need it for a start. Oh and even if you have very little in common, it doesn't mean you're doomed. Look at Arnold Schwartzenegger and Maria Shriver, totally different politics and yet they haven't killed each other yet."

"You make it sound so easy," Angel said.

"Talking's not that hard, except for me and you and then it's impossible," Connor said.

"Connor, it's not imposs..." Angel trailed off, seeing the heart-breaking look in his son's eyes. Was Connor giving up on them ever just talking like father and son? Or did he think Angel have given up. Angel couldn't deal with that now. "I'm just tired of making Buffy cry. No matter what I do, even when I try to do the right thing it ends in tears." He scrubbed a hand through his thick hair.

"So, you make her a cry a little in the talk. Isn't it worth it to know what you need to about her?" Connor shrugged. "Think Faith and I weren't crying during the drunk fest? Think you and I won't cry when we have that big talk we've both been avoiding?" Connor's head jerked up as someone came into the house. "Sounds like Buffy's home. I'll leave now. Tell her to save me your ashes if it goes badly." He headed up the stairs.

Angel sat for a while contemplating what his son had said. A lot of it made sense. Maybe he could blame his own short sightedness and insecurities on the brain damage he was still recovering from. His skull had been crushed, after all. That was believable, he assured himself. Angel got up and looked up the stairs. If he ascended them now, there'd be no going back. He'd have to commit one way or another; stay where he was and lose Buffy for certain or go up the stairs and try to make amends.

Angel climbed. He saw Connor in the living room at the computer. He really was getting it ready for Angel to search for a make-up gift. "Where did you learn about talking and listening? We never did it," Angel called to him.

Connor looked over his shoulder. "Holtz. We didn't have much else to do."

Angel shut his eyes, trying not to picture that bleak existence. He didn't want to think about his son lost in that hell. Climbing to the second floor, Angel carefully skirted the bright light that slashed across the rooms and hallway. He stood outside her bedroom door. Music poured out from under the door.

I You took your coat off and stood in the rain,
You were always crazy like that
I watched from my window,
always felt I was outside looking in on you
You were always the mysterious one
with dark eyes and careless hair. /I

The singer's soft smoky voice was pretty and sad and Angel was surprised to find himself liking this. It wasn't his usual sort of music. Maybe this was what Connor was trying to convey to him, stretching himself just a little to meet Buffy half way.

I Well in case you failed to notice,
In case you failed to see,
This is my heart bleeding before you,
This is me down on my knees

These foolish games are tearing me apart
You thoughtless words are breaking my heart
You're breaking my heart /I

Angel winced at those lyrics. It could have been written for Buffy and if that was what she was listening to at the moment, chances were she wouldn't want to talk to him, ever again. Angel rapped on the door.

"Go away." Buffy's voice was rough.

Angel ignored her command and went inside anyhow. Let him take the full brunt of her anger. The fire in her eyes told him he was about to get just that. Her chest heaved as she gathered herself up on her bed. A sea of sunlight separated them.

"What do you want?"

"To say I'm an idiot and to ask for another chance even though I don't deserve it," he said, not quite meeting her eye.

"Right on all counts," she said and Angel wasn't sure if that meant for him to get out or not.

He chose to plunge on. "Can we talk?"

"I think you said it all last night." She kept her gaze on her bedspread.

"No, last night I showed you all my insecurities and fears but that's not the only thing living in my heart." Angel felt his eyes growing heavy with tears. "Can I tell you about what else I feel?"

Buffy didn't answer him. She just turned away, looking at the wall. He gritted his teeth, looking at the wash of sunlight between them. He walked through it, ignoring the pain. Hearing the sizzle, most likely smelling the frying of his skin, Buffy flipped back over, staring at him in amazement. She swung off the bed and took his smoking hands. "Angel!"

"It's nothing," he said. "I would suffer far worse for you."

Her eyes misted over. "Then why did you force me away?"

He sat her down on the bed, sitting next to her. "Because I couldn't find anything we shared beyond what we're feeling."

She looked up at him with huge eyes. "What more do we need?"

"Love isn't always enough, Buffy. I've seen it too many times. I wanted to have something to build our relationship on and I couldn't find it." Angel shut his eyes. "I've only had one relationship that ever lasted and it was a sick one."

"Darla," she whispered.

Angel nodded. "Every other one was an unmitigated disaster. We've been given yet another second chance and I didn't want to lose it. But...we seemed so different, so much so we couldn't enjoy anything the other loved and I didn't know where that left us. All I saw was the inevitable collapse. Then Connor reminded me of the power of talking to someone, getting to know them. I never bothered with him and you know how that ended. He and I still can't bring ourselves to talk and the strain is returning. But he had a point, you and I have never sat down and just talked about what we like to do and what our interests are...at least not recently. I think we used to, didn't we?" His brow furrowed. "I remember you spending days with me whiling away the hours talking."

She smiled softly. "I remember that, too, and it was nice."

"I wanted us to have more than death and demons in common but time...it passes differently for me. Maybe that's a side effect of being what I am but I forgot that you're not a teenager any more. You've matured and I'm not sure I know anything about the woman you are beyond the slaying."

Her eyes dulled. "Does that mean we just give up then?"

Angel shook his head. "No, I was hoping we could do something tonight, go somewhere and talk, see if there is some common ground. I can make arrangements...if you're willing to give me another chance."

Buffy nodded. "But just one more, Angel. I can't keep going through this." She gave his hand a squeeze.

Angel got up. "Understood. Thank you, Buffy." He jumped through the sunlight again then stopped in the shadows near the door. He gestured to the cd player that was set on repeat so that the smoky-voiced girl poured the angst out over and over again. "I like this."

Buffy smiled. "That's Jewel."

"Jewel," he turned the word over in his mouth, contemplating the various meanings. If things worked out, he might be assigning another meaning to the word.

Angel left her and went back downstairs. The living room was darkened and no one was in front of the computer. He didn't doubt Connor arranged for that. He sat down and started looking for something to make the night special.