The next morning, Buffy was waiting until after breakfast to order the release of the prisoners.
A tad spiteful, perhaps, but getting her girls killed tended to bring out the worst in her.
Not that she'd had any appetite herself for the morning meal, but luckily the discomfort of the situation hadn't rubbed off on the children, who'd been happily gobbling down syrup with a side of waffles when Marie came in.
Buffy, who had Joan in her lap as she worked to get food into the little blonde's mouth, looked up, a knot already forming in her stomach as her second in commend approached.
"What? Did something happen? Angel?" The slayer asked Marie as the other woman came to stand by the table, a frown on her lips. It wasn't uncommon for Marie to be the one delivering news, usually bad, and more often in not because her husband was involved.
The living vampire had risen just after sunrise and there hadn't been much talking between them as he'd helped with getting the kids ready for the day. The tension was still tense between them, not explosive, but cool indifference.
He'd vanished pretty much right after they arrived at AI via garage portal, and Buffy figured it was safer to give him some breathing room.
Safer for him.
Marie shook her head, "Far as I know, Angel is down in the training rooms beating a punching bag into submission, unless it started winning, I'm assuming he's fine. I came here on behalf of the trainees, they're asking about when we're doing this."
Confusion washed over Buffy's face, "Doing what?"
Marie raised an eyebrow since the answer seemed obvious. It had been the hot topic between the slayers recently, talk blazing up between both the Angel Investigations dorms and the more permanent housing at the Hyperion, "The Watcher vote." Marie answered, leaving a bit of 'duh' in her tone.
Buffy, Giles and the slayers had talked briefly about events after the Hellmouth disaster, but nothing concrete had been said about the Watchers fate.
Hazel green eyes blinked, "Oh." There was a slight pause before Buffy replied in full authoritative mode, "The vote has been cancelled, the watchers are leaving. In fact, can you let the guard team know to get them out of the building pronto."
The younger slayer's mouth dropped open as if to provide a retort, then clamped shut quickly upon seeing the warning flash in her superiors eyes, "Yes, Mrs. Summers." The other woman's tone awfully similar to that of a kid replying back to a parent or teacher about a particularly displeasing command.
A moment later, the younger woman was out the cafe door and Buffy turned her focus back to feeding her children.
...
WHAM!
The bag rocked hard, threatening to tear off the chain...again.
Angel wiped the stinging sweat out of his eyes with the back of his hand, pondering if one of those sweat headband things wasn't such a ridiculous idea after all.
His thoughts were interrupted as he heard a heartbeat approaching, an essence of demonic power accompanied it, signalling a slayer.
Glancing behind him, he nodded as the brunette entered though the wide swinging doors, boot heels clicking on the smooth polished hardwood floor as she came to stand behind and just to the left of him.
"Marie." He greeted without turning around, giving the bag a few more quick jabs as she inched closer.
She stood by quietly as he worked, observing his experienced technique as a student and admiring his graceful form as a woman.
Despite being "old", a dad, a big boss and the 'queen slayer's' spouse, most of the straight slayers still found Angel incredibly hot, living vampire and all.
Talk about the ultimate bad boy fantasy.
Realizing she wanted to talk, he grabbed a towel from the bench beside him, wiped at his face, then focused on the team lead, "What's up?"
A smile tugged at her lips, Angel, despite his demonic reputation, now seemed more approachable in comparison to his wife's aura of potent authority.
Vampire to slayer interactions historically were similar to oil and water, not at all mix-y, but being taught by several for months to years helped tone down the instinctual 'eat/slay' reactions. It seemed weird, feeling more comfortable with a 'monster' than your own kind, but again, historically speaking, there never was more that one slayer at a time either...
It could be less to do with physiology and more with human psychology.
Every day non-super woman had cat-fight issues all the time, having super powers just made it worse, apparently.
Not to say that Angel's demon wasn't scary powerful, but most of the slayers still found it less intimidating than Buffy when in a fowl mood.
Not to mention they've seen her kick his ass.
"About the vote being cancelled..." Marie began, but Angel instantly held up a hand to stop her, "Oh no. I don't think so." He countered, folding his arms across his chest, "I play this game enough with my kids. You get an unsatisfactorily answer from 'mom' so go ask 'dad' instead. Nope, not playing, I always lose."
He'd known full well that Buffy was blowing off the vote, and he entirely disagreed with it, but he sure as hell wasn't throwing himself into the fire.
Occasionally he actually learned from his many mistakes.
Marie's smile dropped, her cheeks coloring as she stuttered a denial, "That's not what I meant..."
"Oh?" Angel countered, leaning back against the wall, crossing his legs at the ankles and raising a dark eyebrow to her, "So what is it then?"
Blinking, she tried to clamor together some words that made sense, "Ahh, well, the girls just wanted another opinion..."
Holding up his hand, Angel shook his head, a small grin on his lips, "So not getting in the middle of a Buffy's vs other slayers fight. It can only end badly for me."
"Oh come on." Marie countered with a desperate whine, "You're always getting in the middle of something around here."
Angel's eyebrow quirked up in a warning glare.
True or not, he was the boss and Marie was not.
At his frosty stare, Marie's cheeks bloomed pink as she twitches nervously, "Umm, sorry, I didn't...that wasn't...I'm not saying this right..."
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Angel nodded, "Noticed."
Marie closed her eyes, let herself think a moment, "Ok, I don't want you getting in trouble with Buffy, but there are a lot of us who are interested in the Watchers. I mean, Giles is... okay, usually boring and stuffy in class...but the things he knows and has done for Buffy are like...epic. This whole generation never had a Watcher...a lot of us feel like we are missing out on something that's been vital to the slayer line for...forever."
Angel listened, his jaw clenching as his mind raced for a response that wouldn't land him on his wife's bad side... or underground.
There was already more than a little tension between them, he didn't want to stir it up into something explosive.
After letting his mind work it over a little, he pushed off the wall and stood beside Marie, the young woman was tall, only a few inches shorter than he with a fierce determination that reminded him of his wife, "Marie, Buffy and I are the owners of this business. We have legal guardianship to every girl under 18. When we make rules about how our business is run or how the girls are trained, that word is pretty much law."
The younger slayer's shoulders sagged, she was going to be given a lecture about undermining authority.
"Those over 18 are guests here, and anyone wishing to remain a guest is required to follow the guidelines we deem appropriate."
"You're right, I'm sorry." She interjected respectfully, cheeks still burning over how dumb it was to push him like this.
As she turned to go, Angel caught her arm, "Hear me out."
Marie paused and Angel continued, "Remember the rules apply everywhere within the building, not the whole city. You and the other 18+ are adults, no one here can tell you who you can and cannot associate with on your own time."
With a glimmer of hope, Marie caught on, "So say if a group of adult slayers wanted to talk to the Watchers off campus..."
Angel lightly touched his nose, "Wouldn't be any of mine or Buffy's business."
Marie's smile faltered, "She'd still be pissed."
Nodding, Angel agreed, "Yeah, probably right, but she wouldn't have any legal leverage over you."
The doubt and embarrassment vanished as a full smile spread across her mouth, eyes gleaming with excitement, "Okay, thanks!"
The living vampire winced to himself as she left, knowing this would probably come back to bite him in the ass but realizing Buffy would need to learn the slayers weren't her eternal responsibility. Just like with children, it was the parents job to pass down the information to the younger generation, to get them ready to be adults. Then they were responsible for themselves.
Even if it wasn't under their roof, if Watcher/Slayer interactions succeeded, there was always the potential to bring some of them on board.
Gods knew they could use help with research.
With watchers on his mind, he turned back to the bag, needing to work more of the tension out of his body before interacting with more people.
Especially his wife, he had a bad feeling her fury was going to lash at him later.
...
A few hours had passed, Angel sighed at the broken punching bag, "Fifth one this month."
In a facility training slayers, the equipment maintenance and replacement fees added up quickly.
'Oh well, can't really spend all day hitting things down here anyways...', he took a quick shower in the locker room, changed into one of his many spare clothes he kept in his locker, then headed down the hall to the Med-Ward to check in with Cassidy on Theodore's condition.
"See for yourself." The red head nodded towards the intensive care room as she restocked one of the rolling supply cart draws.
Heading over, Angel peeked into the window, his lips pulling into a sly smirk.
Becky was in the seat beside the healing man, her hand holding his tightly while she spoke excitedly about other slayers interested in meeting with the watchers.
Seems word traveled lightning fast in a building stocked with mostly teen aged woman. Who knew?
"Last night and early this morning...well his condition was starting to nose dive... but I think he's pulling out of the danger zone." Doc Cass said as she came to stand beside her boss, "I'm still leaning heavy on the antibiotics, but he's in higher spirits now, sometimes that can make a big difference."
Angel nodded, he knew that well enough. He himself always healed faster and more thoroughly when he was in a positive mood, like surrounded with his family.
Neither of them said anything out loud, but Angel was aware the downshift was likely from his talk with the young man the previous night and the only reason he was doing better now was Becky telling him the slayers wanted to meet the watchers.
She was giving the wounded man a reason to live.
"Should I expect blood in the water when Buffy hears about this?" Cassidy asked him, glancing over at the dark haired man and quickly scanning for signs of distress.
Just like how quickly the slayers/watchers rumors spread, just about everyone in the building knew immediately when there was stress between the bosses.
Angel shrugged, "Hoping not, but you know how she gets."
The medic knew better than most how they both got, but just nodded, "Good luck."
"Thanks." The living vampire mumbled dejectedly, figuring now was as good a time as any to face his wife's wrath.
...
"I said NO!" Buffy's high and strained voice penetrated though the thick wooden door of her office, unfazed by obsolesces like walls, paint and carpeting. "Last time I checked, NO was a word in the dictionary used to convey meanings like 'not happening!'
Marie shifted from foot to foot, eyes cast downwards and speaking quietly towards the floor, "We aren't meeting them in the building..."
The older slayers eyes blazed, cutting the younger woman off,"You are not meeting them at all!"
Angel cringed as he listened outside the door. He'd received a quick FYI text from Willow while he'd been heading upstairs that word had already reached Buffy about the intentions of the slayers to meet with the watchers and she'd instantly called Marie to her office.
"You want me to go in with you?" The red headed Witch asked, looking just as uncomfortable outside Buffy's office as Angel did.
"No, no sense in getting yourself in hot water with her too." The Irishman replied, steeling himself for the inevitable wave of anger that was about to plow into him once he entered the room. "Besides, how much longer do you want to leave Oz alone with both Joan and Danny?"
Willow and Oz's son, Daniel Alexander Osbourne, was about a month younger than Joan, had his father's eyes and laid back attitude, but not much known as of yet in the werewolf department. While Oz junior could lay down chewing a teether for an hour straight in quiet contentment, Joan would be wriggling around all over the room like a mini energizer bunny, much like her older sister Katie.
The Wicca grinned as she spoke about her spouse, "He does surprisingly well under pressure, and he practically Pied Pipers them when he gets his guitar out."
Another burst of yelling came from behind the door and Angel shook his head, "Hold that thought."
It wasn't an action hero entrance, smashing the door open with a dashing display, instead he just slipped in quietly, but his slamming the door shut behind him caught both arguing woman's attentions.
"Marie, wait outside." His voice called out in a steady no-bullshit tone.
Buffy's mouth dropped open to counter his command but Angel cut her off, "We're not doing this with an audience."
The blond fumed and turned away from him, coiling herself to strike when it suited her.
Marie fled quickly, trying to send Angel a quick 'thank you' nod but finding his stern glare almost as intimidating as Buffy's.
When he'd told Marie the slayers could meet outside the building, he thought they would have the courtesy to be discreet about it, not let the news run wild for Buffy to hear about before it even happened.
"You knew, didn't you?" Buffy threw the accusation at him once her door shut and they were alone in the room. "You gave her the idea to go behind my back."
Angel shook his head, "It wasn't like that." He responded but Buffy stomped towards him, rage in her eyes, "You went behind my back!"
He caught her hand as it came at him, he wasn't sure if it'd been to punch him or grab his shirt, either way, he deflected it, grabbed on and pulled.
With a yelp of anger, Buffy spun as he twisted and trapped her against his chest, his arms locking around hers as she struggled against him. He knew if she really wanted to make contact, she would have, so he took this as a good sign she wasn't completely intent on decking him, "I'm not fighting you Buffy."
Her heeled boot stomping down on his foot didn't follow with his hypothesis, nor her head whipping back to impact his face, hard hitting his nose and lips.
"Damn it!" He growled, releasing her as his hands went to his nose, blinking automatic tears from his eyes as hot blood dripped down to mingle with the blood welling from his newly split lip. Blows to the nose always made the eyes water, and in defense he took a few steps back from her, relieved another round didn't come at him while he couldn't see it.
When his vision cleared, she tossed a tissue box at him.
He caught it, then stuffed a pile of the white Kleenex against the red running on his face, ruining another shirt, "Are you done?"
"You should have ducked." She retorted back. Her tone was snippy, but he was sure she had an underlying note of remorse in it.
When she realized she'd drawn his blood, the fight went out of her...but she didn't have to let him know it.
"Or." His voice was turning more nasally as his nose began to swell, "You could have, you know, not tried to hit me."
"Or, you know." She shot back using his same smart assy tone, "You could have not gone behind my back."
He started to shake his head, thought better of it, and moved over to the couch, sinking down onto it as he tossed the bloodied tissues into the trash can. At least he's stopped bleeding already, but it had been a slayer sized headbutt and it still freaking hurt.
"Here."
She'd sat down beside him, having snagged an ice pack from the freezer of the mini-fridge under her desk.
Taking it, he laid it gingerly over his face, the intense cold helping to dull the pain, thought not rid it entirely.
After a few long quiet minutes of letting the ice cool his burning nose and lip, he spoke, though still nasally, "The intention wasn't to go behind your back."
"Then what was the intention?" Buffy demanded, doing her best to keep the angry expression on her face to cover her guilt for whacking him.
"Buffy." He took the ice pack off his face and looked into her eyes, "These young woman are adults, we don't have any legal rights to restrict who they speak to or hang with outside our building. All I did was remind Marie that the under 18's are subject to our rules but the over 18's aren't, at least not offsite."
Her jaw clenched, "We have a right, a responsibility, to protect them."
"From demons? Yeah. But not from life." He answered, holding the ice pack back up to his face.
He may or may not have been using it as a shield.
Neither spoke for a while, then he added, "These slayers grew up learning about you and Giles, how his fatherly mentoring of you changed the course of slayer history. I hate to say it, but the impression they're getting right now is you get to have a watcher but the rest of them don't. They don't think it's fair that they can't decide for themselves."
"Life isn't fair." Came her annoyed reply.
Angel shook his head, then spoke, "Turn it around, look from their perspective."
She did think it over, and she'd flatten anyone who tried to take her watcher away from her.
"Imagine how Giles feels." The living vampire provided, "The role of Watcher and slayer has reversed. There were many Watchers to one slayer, now many slayers to one Watcher. Is that being fair to Giles?"
"He's fine with it." Buffy muttered, looking pensive and uncomfortable.
"Am I?"
Both of them turned to face the door, where the elder Watcher stood, Willow lurking in the hall behind him.
Apparently she'd called him too.
Buffy scowled as Giles walked over, his posture stiff as he stood before his charge.
"I've...umm, heard some rather unsettling rumors of late. I was certain it'd been grossly exaggerated but the colorful bruise forming on Angel's face is leading me to believe it has a fair amount of merit." Said the former librarian, giving his slayer a scolding glance.
After the battle at the Hellmouth, Giles had asked for a few days off. He'd wanted to try and get in touch with any of his old associates again and cross check what the new watchers had told him about their base of operations. He hadn't been thrilled to learn upon his return the new watchers had been imprisoned for days and Buffy had ordered them to leave without allowing the slayers to have a say in the matter.
Hazel green eyes avoided his as he turned to the living demon, "Angel, would you mind terribly if I had a few words with my slayer alone?"
"She's all yours." The Irishman rose, bringing the bag of ice with him, and went to collect Joan from Oz, dragging Willow with him to give Giles and Buffy privacy.
The Englishman sat on the couch, the spot Angel just vacated. "So, will you tell me what's been going on, in your own words."
Buffy pulled her legs up, her expression crestfallen but gave a quick run down of the last few days. Even to her own ears, it sounded more than a little harsh when spoken out loud. "I...I don't know. Sometimes I feel like...like I'm losing control of everything. The slayers don't listen to me anymore, they counter my commands. All I want to do is keep them safe...and they still get hurt, killed."
Giles smirked, "I know the feeling."
Buffy glanced up at him, his gaze studying hers, "What?"
At his raised eyebrow, Buffy's lips quirked into a smile too, "Ok, yeah, I guess I did the same to you."
"And the same will happen with your children as they age. Buffy, we all want what is best for those we love, but we cannot control every aspect of their lives...though we may try at times. The adult slayers are no different. Yes, Kwan was, well a raving lunatic for certain, but I checked it out, their claim is authentic, be it as it may, they are young but eager watchers. And yes, being the only Watcher has been...difficult to say the least." He sat back, crossing a leg other the other, letting his eyes roam out to the floor to ceiling windows, observing the city-scape in the distance.
"This is all just a polite British way of telling me I'm being a bitch and overreacting." Buffy said quietly, thinking about what he said and not finding it unreasonable.
"I would never say such a thing." He remarked, hand over his heart.
The twit.
Buffy grinned, "Of course not, you stuffy English type never say anything improper..."
Giles smiled, then looked at her seriously again, "I do not wish to go against your wishes Buffy, but I am planning to meet with the Watchers myself in the very near future, and I would prefer to do so with your blessing."
"How do we know they can be trusted?" Buffy demanded, not forgetting there would be three slayers alive right now if those people hadn't come-a-calling. "How do we know there aren't more like Kwan?"
Giles shrugged, "We don't."
At her frown, he added, "But in comparisons to the benefits, I am will to take a moderate risk for monumental gain."
Now closer to moping than mad, Buffy sighed, "Fine, the older slayers can do what they want, offsite, but the younger ones are off limits."
He waited a moment, then leaned over and hugged her, "I'm mourning too Buffy, we all are, in our own way."
She hugged him back, fiercely, tears shimmering unshed in her eyes, "Thank you, Giles."
"For what?" He asked into her ear.
Smiling against his check she answered, "Just being you."
"That's hardly worth thanking me for." He replied as they separated, "I wouldn't know how to be anyone else."
...
Angel had Joan in the crook of his arm, her little hands gripping a bottle of breast milk as she half ate, half slept though dinner. She'd already made a mess with elbow pasta and sauce.
Liam had his hands full with a cheeseburger, trying to work out the right angle to get both bread and meat into his mouth together while Katie's spoon disappeared into her mouth from the bowl of mac and cheese fully loaded with noddle and cheesy goodness.
There was ketchup and cheese on most of the table and covering half the kids faces, but anything less would require some form of divine intervention.
Dinner in the cafe was always the easiest, there was little clean-up (as optional extra money makers, slayers were paid to cook, clean and do dishes), a wide variety of meals (usually 2 main courses to chose from on any given day but pizza, sandwiches and burgers were always available), and it was faster, no pulling out pans and preheating ovens. And less likely food would get burned.
It was typically the go-to when it was Buffy's turn to cook, but when Angel had picked up Joan from Oz and the kids from the slayers babysitting, they had been 'starving to death'. The family had taken the portal to work, so neither car was at the office and Angel hadn't know how long Buffy and Giles were going to talk, so the cafe was the obvious choice.
His own meal was on hold for the time being, it was hard enough juggling the kids, never mind trying to feed himself. Besides, anything he got he'd end up having to share, and he wasn't sharing when it was roast pork night.
He felt it when his wife entered the room, it was a kind of tug at his senses. Even with a load of hungry slayers and numerous food smells, her scent jumped to the top of his awareness. Even her heartbeat seemed more focused that those of the other slayers around them. Buffy was like a walking neon sign to his perceptions.
Almost immediately, he caught her eyes, but instead of coming over to their table, she'd gone straight though the seating and back into the kitchen area.
'Well, she's either very hungry...or avoiding me...' He thought, shifting Joan as her bottle began to sag and leave a wet streak on his shirt.
A short time later, the blond exited the kitchen, empty handed, and walked over to their table, giving the kids kisses as she simultaneously exclaimed, "What did I say about not touching Mommy with sticky fingers!"
Angel couldn't help but smirk, the woman had fought hell creatures, demons, demigods, every type of monsters known, actually been a rotting corpse, and still couldn't do sticky things...
He offered her the baby, which she quickly accepted, making cooing noises and she nestled the sleepy babe against her chest.
Angel was about to rise and grab some dinner now that his hands were free, but Buffy's command to 'Don't go anywhere' froze him before his rear even left the seat. 'Ok, I'm guessing she's still pissed at me...granted I didn't actually DO anything to warrant anger...' The Angelus side of him wanted to tell her to go pound sand, but in the middle of the crowed cafe was not exactly the best place, best time.
No only would a verbal fight compromise their authority in front of the trainees, spread even more damn rumors, upset the kids, but mostly it would damage his ego if he had an audience to Buffy kicking his ass.
He stole a french fry off his son's plate, causing the boy's head to whip around, "Daddy! That's mine!"
Angel stuck his tongue out, with the half chewed fry on it, "Still want it back?"
Katie and Liam started laughing, the later shaking his head, "Eww no!"
Buffy rolled her eyes, trying to keep her focus on the baby in her arms and trying not to show her amusement.
The kids were just finishing eating when a slayer walked over with a large paper bag, placing it on the table and giving Buffy a nod.
Angel's eyebrow quirked up, giving his wife a 'what's in the bag' expression.
Instead of answering, she handed Joan back to him and told him to get the kids cleaned up.
She then stood, took the bag, and threw a flirty smile over her shoulder as she began to walk towards the door, "Meet you at home."
Perplexed at the mix of angry and sexy signals he was receiving from her, he did as he was told, bringing the kids to the restroom to wash up.
About twenty minutes later, the kids were clean-er and he was damp.
Not exactly fazed by the inevitable anymore, he rounded the two energetic tykes and herded them to the Med-Ward, both to check in again with Cass on Theo's condition and to get to the portal in the basement.
"Triple duty?" The red headed medic commented when Angel came in with the kids, finding it funny that the big-bad scourge of Europe could double as a stay-at-home dad.
He shrugged, "Hazard of the job. How's Theo?"
Cassidy plucked a little hand out of the drawer closest to her, "Holding steady, not exactly improving much but not degrading either. I'm still adjusting the med levels, so it should show more in the next day or so when he can be released."
The tall man nodded, grabbing Katie by the back of her shirt to keep her out from under the medical cart, "Good, I'll check in tomorrow."
Realizing the kids were too rowdy right now and would likely damage equipment, he quickly routed them out and towards the portal home.
The minute Angel walked into the house, the smell hit him.
Oh god, was it divine.
Buffy appeared from around the corner, taking Joan from his shoulder and shooing the older ones to go play in the living room.
The door from the garage, where the portal was, opened into the kitchen, which was full of the tantalizing scent of bacon & brown sugar roasted pork, buttery mashed potatoes, carrots, onions and corn. There were half a dozen still warm fresh from the oven dinner rolls, plates and silverware for two, a pair of wineglasses containing something yellow and frothy, and a small pastry box that would hold some form of dessert.
Well, now he knew what had been in the paper bag.
"Is that beer?" He asked, checking out the wine glasses again.
"Shut up, we didn't have any wine." Buffy retorted, having grabbed the pack'n play from the living room, while Angel gawked at the food, and laid the sleeping child down.
"Wasn't complaining." He responded, then looked over suspiciously at her, "Who'd you invite over for dinner?"
Casting a 'really?' glance at him, "Keep it up, funny guy and it won't be you."
Angel wasn't sure if this was some kind of trap, so he asked her.
Closing her eyes, Buffy took a few calming breaths before walking over to him.
A part of him thought maybe he should duck for cover, but he held his ground firm as she came up to him.
She didn't whack him, didn't wiggle a finger at him, didn't lecture him.
She kissed him.
He liked it.
When she pulled away, he opened his eyes and looked at her questioningly.
"I'm trying to apologize dummy." She told him, nudging him towards a chair.
As he sat, he quirked an eyebrow up, "Umm, apologize for what?"
Buffy settled into the chair across from him, the meal laid out between them. Her blond head shook, trying to figure out how her husband can know like a million languages, remember all kinds of biblical, historical and strategical details, live for hundreds of years and earn thousands of hours of experience, and still not 'get it'.
"Oh, I don't know... maybe I'm apologizing for being a bitch to you earlier...or maybe that thing where I flattened your face?"
Angel blinked at her, after a moment asking, "Ok, so how is this different than most days at the office?"
She threw a dinner roll at him.
Demonic reflexes came in handy at times, he managed to grab the roll before it could hit the floor, taking a big bite and savoring the buttery-garlicky infusion.
Shaking her head at him, Buffy stood and began portioning out the food between the two plates while he chewed the bread, his eyes watching her carefully.
When she noticed his gaze, "What?"
A small smirk crept to the corner of his mouth, "Nothing."
Narrowing her eyes at him, "You're like two seconds from being covered in mashed potatoes."
"And waste perfectly edible food?" He teased back, watching her reaction. "You wouldn't."
"No?" She scowled at him, "Maybe when I'm full."
Before she could sit back down, he grabbed a handful of shirt and pulled her down onto his lap.
Instead of whacking him, she allowed the indignity, his lips were making nice tingly sensations along her neck.
After a moment of savoring the warmth of her in his lap, Angel spoke, "Buffy, you don't need to apologize to me. I understand, you're grieving, we both are."
Buffy stiffened against him, almost ready to push out of his arms, but the warmth and love from his limbs around her waist sucked the fight right out of her. "I hate this." She whispered, trying to blot out the feelings of uselessness and failure that accompanied the loss of slayers.
"I know, me too." He agreed, kissing the space behind her ear.
Leaning back against him, she greedily absorbed the comfort he was offering.
After a few moments, she spoke, "I like this better than fighting, let do this instead."
He grinned against her ear, "Kay, long as we get to eat too. The smell is killing me."
Their stomachs overpowered all other emotions and they managed to devour 95% of the food, only having a few rolls leftover.
Once their stomachs were full, the air between them was calm again and switched back to the usual nightly routine of getting the little ones ready for bed.
...
Buffy inhaled deeply, even for her muted mortal senses, the lingering perfume of sex still lingering in their bedroom, even several hours after the main event.
Angel was still asleep under her, the living demon spent from his slayer wives intimate demands.
Her lips quirked upwards as she laid against his chest, listening to the slow rhythmic thump of his heart under her ear.
The last few days had brought a storm of emotion into their life again, bouncing their marriage around like a small vessel in the ocean.
But they'd weathered the squall and stayed afloat, all the stronger for it.
She still hurt inside, losing a member of her slayer family always cut deep.
But she knew something now.
The pain wouldn't destroy her.
Nor would it dismantle her marriage.
Together, they were stronger.
Not just her and Angel, but the slayers, her friends, her extended family.
And maybe, one day soon, the slayers would once again join with the Watchers.
They could all be stronger together.
They would need all the help they could get to fight what was coming.
...End...