Title: Angelus' Child and Childe

Author: Platypus

Rating: PG-13 for language. Likely to be R later on.

Summery: Connor meets Buffy, and things don't go well. B/Aus. Trust me, you'll see.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All characters are property of BtVS, Angel, and the creators of both shows.

AN: Please R&R! If you like the story, and don't have time to write anything, just type 'more' or something. I need the inspiration!


Buffy stood silently at the street corner; her attention was seemingly fixated on a flattened wad of gum on the sidewalk. Her arms hugged around her chest protectively, as if the flesh of her arms could protect her mind from the emotions swirling around in her heart. Obviously, it wasn't working too well.

A noise behind her caused her to start as a rude cab driver honked loudly at her. "Hey lady, you waitin' for a cab or what?"

Buffy managed to look the driver in the eyes and slowly shake her head no. She wasn't in the mood for a cab-ride with some weird stranger that would probably end up asking her what was wrong when, really, he didn't give a shit. Besides, where in LA could she go?

Her father had moved God only knows where after her mother's death. Yes, he knew about that. The bastard had found out when he called, for the first time in almost two years, to ask about his child-support payments. He called to say that he no longer felt responsible for paying them. When Buffy had told him about Joyce's death, he passively gave his daughter his sympathy, repeated that he was no longer sending child-support, and then off-handedly mentioned that he was moving to somewhere in Europe with his new girlfriend.

As three giggling teenage girls stumbled past her, Buffy's slim figure slumped more, in a defeated gesture. She really managed to screw it up. If she had been there to encourage Xander about his wedding to Anya, maybe he wouldn't have walked out. Maybe, he wouldn't have been killed by Anya's demon friend, who was out to avenge Anya for the pain Xander had caused her. Perhaps if she had saved Tara, Willow wouldn't be wandering the world in misery, trying to re-discover a reason to live. If only she had been obedient to the council, and lionize them despite their inhumane rituals, Giles wouldn't be stuck in England discussing random technicalities. Maybe if she, the 'perfect' Buffy Summers and 'devoted' slayer, had been there to oversee her sister, Dawn wouldn't have ended up in a rehabilitation center for trying to rob a department store. Several times.

The word 'if' sucked.

With nowhere else to go, Buffy allowed her feet to carry her to the one place where she might be able to curl into a ball and cry the pain out of her. *************

Conner looked at the woman lying next to him. She had looked so beautiful to him before...but now? It wasn't her stomach, or even the few extra pounds that she had gained in her pregnancy that bothered him. It was just *her* in general. Everything she said, every move she made, sent him fuming in a rage of unexplained anger. She acted so fake, so happy, that he just wanted to kill her. And she kept bringing up the baby. Didn't she understand that he wasn't ready? That he didn't want to be a father yet? That he didn't want her to be the mother?

Thinking back, Conner wondered why she had never bothered him before. Now, even in his memory her actions bothered him. Was it possible to hate someone so entirely after thinking that you loved her? He looked longingly out the window.

If only he could go outside in the busy streets of the city and relieve himself of his own stress by watching others drown in theirs, he might not be so frustrated. If only.

He knew he would stay here, though. With *her.* With Cordelia. He would be a good father, unlike his own: Angel, Holtz, it didn't matter. Both of them were terrible parents. He wouldn't be. He refused to be. He was NOT Angel.

Suddenly, he tensed. Something powerful was lurking just outside the hotel. With the vow to protect his unborn child, he pulled a knife from his sleeve. With silent steps, he slowly descended the stairs as his eyes locked on the door. Connor crept towards the door and pressed his back against the wall. His eyes were now intently focused on the silver of the doorknob as he prepared to pounce when the creature came through the doors.

He shivered as he once again marveled at its power. It wasn't Angelus...perhaps it was a demon he hired? It didn't seem like Angelus' style to hire something to do his dirty work, but you can never put anything past a vampire. Of course, there was always Wolfman and Hart as well.

Finally, the lock snapped, the doorknob turned, and the door swung open. He shot forward with a war cry, his knife raised high.