Disclaimer: I don't own the challenge; that belongs to Lee. Buffy and Angel and respective characters belong to Joss Whedon, and Ocean's Eleven belongs to Warner Bros.

Feedback: Please do.

Challenge: Basically, redo the basic plot of Ocean's Eleven with Buffy and Angel characters. Angel should take the place of Danny Ocean, and Connor as Linus Caldwell. The other characters are up to you.


Other Requirements:
Keep the running gag of the Rusty character always eating/drinking something.

All characters should be at the jobs they were in the movie (Frank a dealer in a casino, Basher in the middle of another heist, Rusty teaching movie stars how to play poker, Danny/Angel in jail, Livingston working freelance for the FBI, etc.)

Imzadi: Indeed she would be… Glad you liked the other characters, and, trust me, it is going to be REALLY difficult for Angel to convince Connor to help.

Flaire Delacour with Faith: It's not going to be Wesley convincing Connor, it's going to be Angel; I'll be taking the chance to explain his relationship with his son anyway.

ka-mia2286: There might be a relationship reunion, but since he's still suffering from HIV, it'd be a bit of an awkward one…

Flight of Fancy: Yeah, I see what you mean

a2zmom: Glad you liked it; I wasn't sure if the HIV thing would work, but I wanted to make it something real while sticking to continuity as much as I could, and that instantly sprung to mind.

Loz: You wanted it, and here it is.

Angel's Eleven

A few hours later, Angel was sitting in a train carriage in New York City, watching the young man standing in the carriage a few metres down from him.

Connor Angelus.

His son.

The child he'd given up when he was barely eighteen.

And a symbol of a painful past that he'd been trying to forget for so many years.

Angel sighed as he thought back to that dark period of his life.

He'd always been a rebellious child when he was growing up in Ireland- his little sister Kathy had been the only thing in his life that really kept him on the proverbial straight and narrow, and, after she'd died in a car accident when he was thirteen or fourteen, well…

He sighed.

Angel hated to admit it, but it was the only way to put it.

He'd turned into a right bastard. He'd spent a few days just wandering the streets, committing random minor crimes, and then he'd fallen in with a small group of wannabe criminals; mostly teenagers who had relatives in prison, and had thus decided to rebel against society as a whole. Angel hadn't been too interested in what happened to him at that point, and, after some debate, he'd joined up when he became infatuated with…

With her.

Darla, the adopted daughter of the group's leader; a career criminal

He'd known that wasn't her real name, of course- he'd heard enough hints around the hideout to know that much- but, at the time, and at barely fourteen, he hadn't cared; that just added to the air of mystery that drew him to her.

Even though they'd been too young, the two of them had spent several nights engaged in… somewhat adult activity, he should probably say. Never going all the way, of course- even they hadn't been stupid enough to risk things before they were fully developed- but there'd been more than the occasional accompanied orgasm; he was fairly sure they'd both sucked each other off at least once, if his memory served. They'd spent most of their seventeenth birthdays enjoying each other's company, revelling in the ability to do something that they could actually get away with…

And then, there'd been her.

It had been almost four years to the day since he'd joined the group. They'd gone on a bank raid- along with Spike, their newly-arrived demolition expert- and, although the raid had gone well, a twelve-year-old girl had died in their escape.

And, when Angel had seen the body of the girl lying there, he'd realised something.

He hadn't cared.

She'd been so alike his sister that they could have been twins… and he'd felt nothing.

Angel hadn't been able to cope after that. For the next few hours, he'd wandered the town, trying to figure out when he'd stopped caring, and then…

Then he'd found Darla waiting for him in his room.

He hadn't even cared what happened then; he'd jumped on her, and practically raped her, although she'd certainly proved eager to do it as things went on…

And then, when he'd woken up, he'd realised that he couldn't do this any more. He couldn't keep on going around committing crimes just because he felt hard-done by, just because he felt betrayed by the world. After all, some day, who was to say he wouldn't cause someone else to experience what had happened to him…?

After that, he'd spent a few months lounging around in a hotel, trying to deal with his troubled conscience while figuring out what to do with his life, until Darla had shown up, six months pregnant, scared, alone, and desperate for Angel's help.

Initially, Angel hadn't wanted to accept it, but slowly, he'd come to realise the truth; thanks to the baby, Darla had changed, her new responsibility for the life within her forcing her to grow up and take responsibility for her past actions. She'd genuinely wanted to become a better person, and, for the next three months, he'd tried to help her cope with their shared past, as they'd made plans for their future…

Then, as she was giving birth, the doctors told him that Darla had an ovarian cyst that would kill her shortly after the delivery. It would have been detected earlier, but Angel and Darla had both stayed away from the hospital until they absolutely had to go; the buildings didn't exactly hold pleasant memories for them

After their son had been born, Angel had asked to spend a few minutes alone with Darla and the baby…

A few minutes that remained burned into his memory like they'd been carved there with acid.

"He's… he's beautiful…" Darla smiled, as she looked at the small form cradled in her arms, sucking thirstily at her breast. Neither of them were sure whether a baby was meant to be that thirsty so soon after being born, but he evidently wasn't one to pass up a drink…

And besides, Darla had wanted to do this one thing for her son.

"Yeah… he is," Angel smiled, as he stroked his son's cheek with his finger. Then he looked over at Darla. "What do you want to call him?"

Darla was looking visibly weaker now, but she still found the strength to smile at the father of her baby. "I can't even quite remember my real name. You choose."

Angel stared at his son for a while, and eventually made his decision.

"Connor."

"Connor," Darla said, smiling as her son finished sucking at her nipple and looked up at her with a remarkably attentive expression for his age. "I like it."

She sighed as she looked over at Angel. "Angel… he's the first- the only­- good thing we ever did. Make sure… make sure he knows… make sure he knows that I loved him… please…"

Angel took her hand in his and kissed the knuckles, staring into Darla's eyes pleadingly as he did so.

"I will…" he said, a tear trickling down his cheek as he spoke. "But… but you'll be there for him as well…you've got to be…"

"Angel…" Darla said, pain in her eyes as she reached out and stroked his cheek. "Before I go… thank you… these past few months…"

She coughed briefly, and then looked back at him, a smile on her face although her entire body seemed to be wracked in pain.

"You've made me feel…" she gasped, coughed once more, and then, smiling at him, spoke once more.

"You've made me feel human…"

Near tears now, Angel leaned forward and caught Darla's lips in a passionate kiss, knowing that, this time, it would have to last them both forever…

Then Darla's head fell back, and she was gone.

Angel hadn't been able to quite cope with things after that. He'd spent a few months trying to raise Connor on his own, but eventually he'd been unable to cope and had given Connor to a couple he knew from the pre-gang days and left to wander the world aimlessly for a few years…

He stopped himself; Darla's death had been painful enough, but he didn't want to have to think about her as well…

Looking back at Connor, Angel nodded slightly in approval as Connor swiped a man's wallet as the train jolted slightly, taking advantage of the disturbance to make it look as though his fall forward was natural.

At the next stop, Connor got off the train, Angel getting off as well at the next door in their carriage. Pulling on a hat to conceal his face from view, he walked past Connor, swapping the wallet for a card as he did so, and then headed on to a nearby pub.

Half an hour later, Angel was sitting in the pub in question, nursing a pint of beer he'd purchased earlier, and staring at the door in front of him with a remarkable intensity; if his eyes had been a laser, he'd have destroyed the door by now.

Then it opened, and Connor entered, walking sullenly over to the table where his father was currently sitting.

The two of them looked at each other for a moment or two, and then Angel smiled awkwardly and indicated the seat in front of him.

"So… nice pull back there on the subway, son," he said, sheepishly; he knew that 'son' was a stupid thing to call Connor, but he couldn't think of anything better right now, and he had to get them started, right?

"Don't call me that," Connor said, looking back at Angel with the usual expression he had whenever he and Angel met; not hatred, but something relatively close to it. Angel more thought of it as apathy, to be honest; he'd eventually managed to convince Connor of his reasons for abandoning him, back when Connor was thirteen, but Connor still resented him for never even contacting him before Wolfram & Hart's intervention.

"Anyway…" Angel said, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ticket before he laid it down on the table. He looked at Connor. "You're in or you're out; right now."

"Family trip?" Connor asked, scoffing slightly as he looked at the ticket before looking back at Angel. "I'm not interested."

"It's not family; it's a business thing," Angel explained. "I'm organising an attack on Wolfram & Hart- you remember them, right?- and I need your skills in a professional capacity. You say no…"

He shrugged. "We'll find someone who isn't as good, things take longer, and you keep on just nicking wallets for a living."

Noting Connor looking inquiringly at the ticket, Angel smiled slightly as he noticed how like his mother Connor seemed in that moment…

After a moment's pause, Connor looked back up at Angel and nodded.

"All right; I'm in," he said.

Then his face hardened again. "But I'm not taking any preferential treatment from you; you won't win my forgiveness that easily."

Angel just nodded, silently relieved that he'd gotten that much out of Connor.

Now, they were eleven.