Arezue; Desire

Chapter Fourteen: Family Time

Angel walked back into the lobby and started to go through the already ransacked fridge, noticing that Fred and Gunn were making out on the couch whilst Cordelia and Wesley (who, Angel could see, was plainly not enjoying Fred and Gunn's display of public affection) flipped trough one of Cordelia's fashion magazines together.

He noted that business had been rather slow lately as he pulled out two bags of blood and headed into the kitchen. Pouring the blood into two mugs and setting them in the microwave, Angel became busy making an after school snack for Connor. He really couldn't stop his mind from drifting back to everything that had happened in the last twelve hours or so.

Arezue probably hated him now (more then before), he mused. It didn't really surprise him. He had come to expect it.

He thought back to last night and how he's promised himself that he'd do anything to redeem himself in his daughter's eyes. And he hadn't changed his mind.

But now, he had to think of her as well. He wanted to do what was best for her but the demands for her hand from the vampires wanting to up their place in society – she was a direct descendent of the master, after all - had been pouring in like crazy since her big split from Spike in the seventies…

This opened up even more complications. He knew that not only was Charlotte Jane still madly in love with her William – but that Spike still harbored feelings for her.

Yet, Spike was already inter-mated with Drusilla. Although male vampires were allowed to have as many mates as they willed, he knew that Spike would never see it in such a way.

Furthermore, there was Dracula. Dracula had helped him out of a tight spot during the French Revolution and he would, Angel held no doubt against this, demand Charlotte Jane O'Connor as compensation.

He couldn't refuse Dracula's request. To do so would be scandalous – more so then having a soul and killing other vampires. And anyways, he needed someone to make an honest woman out of Arezue as soon as possible. She whored around too much for her own good.

Angel walked back to his office to find Arezue in Connor's arms, still crying. He set down the two mugs and placed the two plates he held on the desk.

"I bought you a snack, Connor." He reached out to smooth Arezue's hair.

"And Char, I've got breakfast. See…" He held up the plate of Oreos. "I know you like to dunk cookies into blood, so I bought you some." He really was trying… Arezue moved away from Connor.

"I never told you that." She whispered, wiping at her eyes with the sleeves of his sweater. Angel shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well no, but Spike – I know – likes them." This bought up scenes from Angelus's rage over Sunnydale and an immobilized Spike; Angel bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to forget.

"So you figured I'd like it." Her tone was suddenly bitter as she stared at him, their eyes intersecting. Angel stared back and she dropped her gaze, nodding resolutely.

"Yeah." She took the plate form him. "I don't drink animal blood." Angel shot Connor a look, showcasing the annoyance Arezue stirred within him.

"It's human blood, just bagged." She made a face and opened her mouth, presumably to rebuttal his remark.

"He's trying to help, Arezue." Connor broke in. She just sighed and took the mug.

"If you say so." She sounded defeated. Angel knew it was probably because he was exercising his sire rights for the first time in over years and she now felt as if she'd been demoted to fledgling status. He sat down in one of the office chairs, facing the desk. Arezue was sprawled in his chair with Connor next to her. Being as tiny as they were, both of them easily fit into the oversized chair that could dwarf even him at times. He wondered what he ought to say.

"How was school?" He finally asked Connor. Connor shrugged in reply.

"You know, normal." He hesitated. " This girl talked to me…" Angel grinned at this.

"A girl, huh? Bet she couldn't help but fall over her own feet." He was proud and it showed. "It's in your genes, you know." Connor laughed and Angel joined him.

Arezue watched them, a distant memory rising in her mind.

1752, Ireland

Liam O'Connor lay in bed with a raging headache, watching his eleven-year-old daughter, Charlotte Jane, as she worked on her sewing. It was only seven thirty but he'd been banished to his room by his father for 'not paying proper attention to your daughter' and 'whoring around'.

"You know, lass," He finally said and Charlotte Jane looked up, her hand pausing it's mending.

"Yes, papa?" He wanted to yell at her for being so – perfect. He wanted to beat her and punish her for it. But, he knew to do so would be sheer madness. She was, after all, the only person he knew of that seemed to truly love him.

"I want boys one day." He told her flippantly. He was saying it to just cause her a little pain, but she didn't know that. She was to trusting to think such things. "Not another daughter like you," The words fell from his mouth before he could think twice.

"Daughters – woman – are space gone bad." He could see her tearing up and he hated himself for doing this to her – but he didn't want her to blindly love him. He didn't deserve it. " I want boys, lots of them. I suppose you'll go to the streets then." Her sewing clattered to the floor, shocked tears streaming down her face.

" Men," He said over her sobs, trying to drown them out. He didn't want to see her cry, but what other choice did he have? It was her fault for loving him so relentlessly in the first place.

"I'd want lots of little men." He paused in his ministrations. " Do you suppose the brothel down the street will take ya' in? They might remember yer mum." He regretted the hurtful words the moment they were said. His eleven-year-old daughter was shaking by now, her face stricken as tears made their way down.

"Weren't you mendin' me shirts for Sunday mass?" Charlotte Jane just nodded, bending down to pick the fabric as well as the needles up.

Arezue snapped out of her reverie to see Connor and Angel chatting about something called the soup-er bowl…They hadn't even noticed her zone out.

Frowning, she stared down at her cup of blood. She didn't really understand why. Why did he not lover her? Why did he want Connor more than he wanted her?

And she wanted to hat Connor – was all set to – but she couldn't. He'd actually been nice to her – nobody had ever done so before (unless they had ulterior motives to do so).

She felt tears sliding down her face once more. Before she could wipe them away with her sleeve, Angel passed her a Kleenex box.

Just out of contempt, she raised her hand to wipe her tears on the sleeve anyway.

"Don't." Angel's voice stopped her. He was daring her to go ahead and do it; he wanted to see if she would do it, knowing of the whipping that would follow for intentionally disobeying him.

Charlotte Jane slowly lowered the sleeve and instead used the Kleenex. Angel and Connor began to chat again – and when he knew Angel wasn't paying attention, Connor reached out and squeezed his sister's hand.