Still His Girl

A fic by: Jen

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing, so please don't sue me! I'd totally love to own DB for just one teensy night, but alas…I do not, so this is my way of having "fun" with him! :)

**A/N1: First of all I want to give my heartfelt thanks to all of you who've been wondering where I've been—I'm extremely sorry, but I was in a pretty bad car accident. I broke my right ulna (forearm) in three places, broke my left collar bone, dislocated my shoulder and shattered my knee-cap. The paramedics (firemen) said that if I hadn't been wearing a seat belt—I most likely would have died. :O I know-it was bad. My face looked like Mike Tyson had went to town on me thanks to the air bag! I used to never wear a seat belt, but my kids nagged me into it several years ago and now it's just a habit, but thank God it was because I would not be here today if it wasn't! So seriously—not to be a nag—but as a newly re-born seat belt advocate-wear a seat belt you guys. :) It saved my life. Okay, no more preaching! But needless to say it has been a difficult recovery so I hope you all forgive me abandoning my fics…I didn't mean to and I promise to get to work on them as soon as possible, but please be patient with me until I've fully recovered. The next Buffy fic I will be posting on after this is 'Born of Darkness'. I really miss that evil-sexy Angelus! ;) :P

Again...Thank you for all your kind words and your pms asking if I was okay. Your caring and consideration-even your nudges and frustration made me feel so cared about and showed me how much you guys love my fics. Thank you! Okay…enough fluffy-Jen-mush…but I just had to tell you how much your support means to me. :)

**A/N: 2: Okay, so I wanted to get this out last week, but I had to re-read the entire fic because I wanted it to be a good chappie and not just a filler to post, you know? I wanted you all to really LOVE it. But—let me say, oh boy am I glad I read it all over because I found some MAJOR plot flaws in this chappie…that happens when you haven't posted on a fic in a while-you forget what you wrote before, but I've since corrected—at least I hope I caught them all—the mistakes in this chappie. There may be a few typos or grammar errors…sorry guys, but this is un-beta read, so any boo-boos are ALL mine. I just wanted to get it out to you because you've been so nice and patient (yikes, well most of you-lol) in waiting for this. I know it was long in coming and I'm very sorry, but as you saw in my A/N-1 I was in a really bad car accident so it was slow healing.

**Okay, now nuff of my chatter—on with Still His Girl. Ya'll have all waited long enough, right? ;)

To recap: Buffy just told Angel she remembers the day that never was and this chappie takes place directly after that moment—so you might wanna go and re-read it…

xoxo

Jen

Chappie 16

The atsmosphere had been sexy-post coital bliss is always like that. So relaxing-intimate and honestly Buffy had slipped. She hadn't meant to tell him that, but now that the cat was officially 'out of the bag' she realized this wasn't something she was going to hold back—there'd been enough of that already. She folded her arms across his muscled chest and propped her chin atop them. Looking down at his wide eyed-waiting for her to freak on him-gaze, she gave him an encouraging little smile. "Yeah Angel, I do—I remembered a while ago," she shrugged her shoulders slightly, "but I understand why you did what you did so you can lose the 'deer in the headlight' look, okay? I'm not mad," she told him truthfully.

His brow shot up to his hairline and he let out the breath he'd been holding with a loud *whoosh*. "You're not?" he asked, grabbing a pillow and propping it behind his back. He wriggled into a sitting position and Buffy cuddled up to him again, laying her head on his chest. He gazed down at her, his dark brown eyes wide and more than a little surprised. A soft smile curled his lips upward as he brushed the hair back from her face tenderly. "Are you sure?" She nodded and he wagged his head back and forth. "I don't understand. I gave away our chance at happiness—why aren't you mad at me?" he asked, seriously befuddled at her calm acceptance of what he considered his 'ultimate-making-a-decision-without-her-moment'.

Buffy sighed. She understood. She did hate how he'd always made every serious-life changing decision without consulting her, but that was then-this was now. She sat up a bit so that she was eye to eye with him. "See, its kind-a like getting mad at you for spilling milk years after you spilled it…" He frowned and she hastily added, "Not that what you did can be called spilling milk—unless it was like a thousand gallons and you dumped it on—" His brows lowered even more and Buffy sighed, "okay, never mind." She paused before continuing, "Anyways, what I'm trying to say is if I'd remembered what you did at the time…I would have been livid—insane with anger, even." Her brows lowered. "I probably would have wanted to stake you!" she admitted. Her face lightened. "But today…?" She shrugged, "not so much—" His eyes widened and Buffy explained. "Really, there was nothing I could do about it when I found out and even if I could, I understood why you did it—it was for the greater good. I get that."

Angel's thoughts went to Parker and his pulse accelerated. He had to stop to admire and just feel how strange his pounding heart felt. But then reality set in and he realized he had to tell her about his theory, even if letting her know that what he'd done might have cost them their child absolutely scared the shit out of him. Not only because he was the King of self flagulation and didn't really want to go there again, but he also had the immediate concern of how Buffy would take such news. He'd seen her pissed and he really didn't want that directed at him—especially when he didn't have vampire stamina and pain tolerance anymore! Her big green eyes gazed at him so lovingly-so full of trust and Angel felt like the biggest jerk alive. He had to tell her no matter what she did or how she reacted-he owed her that much. "Buffy..." he started, stopped, and then swallowed. "I don't know how to tell you this…" He choked on the words and his stomach churned. What if he lost her because of this? Angel felt physically ill at that, but was determined to tell her. He swallowed again, trying to find the words to explain...

Buffy's lower lip jutted out and her brows drew down. Angel looking like this was never-ever a good thing. Her green eyes drilled him as she gripped his chin and forced his gaze back to hers. "Okay this isn't funny. Angel…you have definite something face—so spill it cause you're starting to freak me out here," she said, worrying her bottom lip with her sparkling white teeth.

He took a deep breath. "Buffy, on the day when you came to LA…I was human, remember?"

She gaped, and then rolled her eyes as she snuggled closer to him. "Um—yeah, I totally remember the amazing sex-breaking your kitchen table-chocolate and peanut butter in bed and let's not forget the ice-cream..." She giggled, and flashed him a seductive little grin. "Mmmmm, kind-a hard to forget," she teased, running her hand down his belly to toy with the hair that made up his 'treasure-trail'. "Wanna go for a repeat?" she asked, licking her lips. "Got any ice cream, baby? I can spill it across your chest and lick it up..."

He groaned softly as his lower-brain urged him to just keep quiet. What she was suggesting made his body spring to life and her scenario sounded hot and heavenly-just like that day was so hot it was burned in his brain forever! But, Angel reminded himself, he had to tell her the truth. Even as he ached to re-live that memory, he struggled with the memory of what he'd done afterwards-the decision he'd made (again-without her) that was leading them to this particular conversation. Angel glanced down at the diminutive blond in his arms. She was his life. Buffy—his Buffy—he'd never thought to have her back in his arms and now that he did, he never wanted her to leave again. She was his everything and he loved her with every breath in his body. "Yeah," he agreed. "It was the most amazing day of my life until this last week…" he said softly. Buffy's smile was blinding and Angel basked for a moment before he remembered he did have a point to make. "But…well, um…you also remember I didn't wear protection, right?" he ran a hand through his hair. "I mean—I'd been a vampire for two hundred-plus years…Hell, condoms weren't even invented when I was human," he said with a small shrug.

She chuckled until she realized he was serious. Her eyes narrowed. "So…?" He was fidgeting and wouldn't meet her eyes again. Never a good sign with Angel. Buffy heaved a soft sigh, cupped his face in her hands and forced his chocolate gaze back to her own. "Angel, stop with the cryptic and just tell me what the hell you're talking about because I'm getting lost here. So…you didn't wear protection…what's the big? So we had unprotected sex years ago? I didn't get pregnant…see this is like the spilled milk thingy again," she said, grinning.

But Angel didn't return her smile. Instead he swallowed convulsively several times before answering and when he did it was the very last thing Buffy had been expecting to hear. "What if you did-what if something I did made us lose the child you were supposed to have?" he croaked.

Buffy's jaw dropped and her stomach flip-flopped. "Angel, if this is your idea of making a funny—it's really lacking in the funny part!"

"It's not a joke, Buffy," he said quietly, holding onto her tighter as he felt her body coil like a spring. He forced himself to go on. "I saw Parker tonight and he—the Powers—I think they—"

At that exact second Whistler and Doyle blinked into the room causing Angel to stutter to a stop just as Buffy's eyes were bugging out of her head. Whistler made a *tsking* sound. "You know Big Guy—you really weren't supposed to figure that out," the badly dressed demon quipped.

Angel gave a low growl at seeing Doyle and Whistler standing at the end of his bed, while Buffy gave a little squeak and dove under the covers.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the former vampire demanded, pulling the covers up to his waist, while making sure Buffy was totally covered from view.

"Looks like we're trying to stop you from opening a can of worms you're not at all prepared to deal with!" Whistler shot back.

Once Buffy was sufficiently un-exposed, she leaned back against the headboard next to Angel, tucking the sheet under her arms to keep her body covered. Her gaze went from Angel back to the PTB's messengers as if debating which she should grill first, finally she leveled her blazing green eyes on Whistler and Doyle and there was no mistaking the anger in her voice as she said, "Explain—now!"

Whistler gave Angel a disgruntled look before heaving a sigh. "Why don't you two get dressed and meet us in the living room." He smirked. "I love you two kids, but this is a little too cozy if ya know what I mean," he said over his shoulder as he walked out of the room.

Buffy turned to Angel after they'd left. "Angel—what are you talking about?" she asked, tucking a tangled lock of blond hair behind her ear. "You said Parker—isn't that Booth's son?"

He sighed as he got out of bed and padded naked to his dresser. "Buffy, I think Parker is our son, but I'm not sure." She was kneeling on the bed gaping at him like a fish out of water and he hated doing this to her, but she—he deserved to know if that boy was theirs. He handed her a T-shirt and a pair of his boxers. They'd be huge on her, but he was eager to hear if his theory was correct. "Here baby, put these on and let's get out there and let Whistler explain."

Numbly, Buffy took the clothes. She was flying totally on instinct right now as she began to get dressed. "But—" Buffy started and Angel cut her off.

"Buffy, you have to promise not to lose it when I tell you what I think…" he said.

She frowned as she knotted the boxers around her tiny waist to make them fit. "How can I promise that? If he tells me that's my child—I might just wring his stupid-powers-that-be-messenger-boy-neck!" she bit out, dragging the T-shirt over her head.

"Just promise you'll listen to what Whistler has to say then before you lose it then," he said as he took a pair of sweat pants out of his dresser and pulled them on.

Buffy pulled her hair out from the collar of the shirt and knotted it atop her head. "I got an idea—how about you tell me right now why you think Parker is mine?" she asked, crossing her arms and tapping her foot, giving Angel that hurt-confused-semi-angry look that always had and (to his dismay) he was now finding out, still did make him squirm.

Angel went to her and took her hands in his. He hunkered down so that he was eye to eye with her. "Because I saw Parker tonight and he looks just like you, baby. Blond hair, big green eyes—but it was his smile that really threw me for a loop." He cupped her quivering chin in one big hand. "Buffy, he has your smile," he whispered.

A myriad of emotions assailed Buffy at that point. Fear—excitement—rage and a happiness so great it left her breathless. Her stomach dropped and she suddenly felt sick. Why? Why would the Powers take her child? It was…inconceivable that they would be that cruel—wasn't it? They couldn't—they wouldn't—but as she thought back of how the PTB's had treated their Champions. It hit her like a sledge hammer to the gut. Oh yes, they could and would-if it suited the 'greater good'! Her knees wobbled and her mouth opened and closed without a sound coming out.

"Buffy!" Angel cried, catching hold of her as she stumbled. Wordlessly she clung to him for a few seconds before a small, but agonized sob burst out of her and Buffy pushed herself away from Angel. Her lip trembled and those huge mossy green eyes filled with tears. He reached out for her, but she slapped his hands away with a sharp 'don't!' Angel cringed at the little girl lost look she had on her face before she put her head down and took several deep breaths. He stood there fidgeting, unsure what to do. "Buffy…?" he queried, "Are you okay?"

She raised her head and that stubborn little chin lifted too. She met his gaze head on and gave him a smirk worthy of Angelus himself. "What do you think?" she snapped. Angel backed off and looked down. "No, I'm so not okay, but…" she sighed, "I'm not mad at you Angel."

He breathed a sigh of relief, but guilt was making him sick to his stomach. "I'm sorry-this is my fault. If I hadn't—"

"Don't!" she spat, interrupting him. "You've suffered at their hands just like I have so don't you dare take the blame for those lying bastards now!" she hissed. "Yeah, I'm pissed at you, but you didn't do this and I won't let you beat yourself up for it—we'll talk about your 'stupid-making-decisions-without-me-tactics and how you're not going to do it anymore after we deal with those two out there—alright?" Angel nodded, Buffy had that look he recognized as her 'ass-kicking' face and he did not want to add his ass to her list. "Good," she said. "Now I think our guests have been waiting long enough-don't want to give them too long to come up with another lie, you know!" she spat and without another word she spun on her heel and marched out of his room and towards the living room.

As he watched her storm out of the room, Angel could only be 'oh-so-glad' he was not Whistler at that point, but Buffy was angrier than he'd ever seen her and the ex-vampire realized Whistler might not get a chance to explain before she kicked his teeth down his throat. "Shit!" he cursed, as he took off after her. Hopefully Buffy would, at least, give the red-headed demon a small chance to tell the truth before she pummeled him!

The Church of the Holy Saints:

Brennan shut the door to her car and walked through the dark, eerie parking lot to the Church. For a place of God—the place sure did give her the creeps! It was so quiet—almost too quiet as a matter of fact. The door to the Church opened with a loud *squeak* and Brennan poked her head inside. "Hello…" she called out. "Father Donlan?"

In the rectory, Angelus was finishing a small-blond snack. He licked the wound on the girl's neck, relishing her sweet blood before dropping her dead body on the ground. "You're forgiven, child…" he said, audaciously making the sign of the cross over her body. He heard Tempe's voice and his head shot up. A cruel grin twisted his lips and he rubbed his hands together. "Finally!" he crowed. Now this was something that got his motor revving. He wondered if the good Doctor was a screamer. He wiped his mouth, making sure all traces of blood were gone before he headed out to the main church. "Let the games begin…"

Bones was about to leave when Angelus turned the corner and made his appearance. He spotted the brunette doctor and waved to her. "Dr. Brennan—over here," he called, stopping her retreat. Brennan made her way down the aisle, closer to him and Angelus almost licked his lips in anticipation…

Bones looked put out, but something-an internal instinct was holding her back-slowing her steps. "Look Father, I know Booth believes in all this..." She waved her hands at the altar, "but I don't. It's late, I'm tired and I have to be at the Jeffersonian first thing in the morning. So, what did you have to show me?" she asked when she was a few feet away.

Angelus urged her closer. Just when she was within reach, he looked down at his feet and let his demon out. Ridges popped along his brow and he raised his head, golden eyes glowed with evil delight and he flashed his fangs. "This," he whispered, giving her a toothy grin.

She took a quick step back. "Your face—it's—"

"Not what it used to be right now…but don't worry, I'll keep you alive until I'm the man—demon, I used to be," he said, giggling like a madman.

Brennan gaped, her logical mind unable to assimilate what she was seeing. "What are you?" she asked.

"What does it look like, Doc?" he quipped. She just stared and he snorted. "I thought you were the big-brain here. You know what I am don't you?" he crooned.

Brennan shook her head. "No, this can't be true."

Angelus rolled his golden eyes. "Oh for fucks sake, Doc—I'm a vampire-not quite the smoking hot vamp I used to be, but that's all about to change once my body gets here."

"Your body—what does that mean?" Bones asked, pausing to get a good look at the Priest turned demon.

It was that momentary pause that allowed Angelus to grab her. He continued to chuckle as he reeled her in. She struggled in his grasp, but he was strong-even in the feeble body, his demonic strength was far stronger than Tempe. He licked his lips as she was within biting distance. "Mm..." he purred, "how do you want it-in the neck or somewhere a little more private?" he purred, grabbing her hand to pull her in for the kill.

Tempe fought like a wildcat. She was made of tougher stuff than this and just when he thought he had her a new wave of adreniline hit her and she attacked him. Quicker than he'd anticipated she pivoted and kicked him in the stomach-hard. He stumbled back a few steps, more in surprise than actual pain—after all, she wasn't a Slayer or anything, but he hadn't really expected that kind of fight out of her. His golden eyes narrowed and he smiled wickedly. "I knew you were gonna be a screamer…" he practically purred, licking his lips. Tempe didn't wait to hear the rest of that statement. She took his moment of posturing to make a break for it, but Angelus had anticipated the move and grabbed her around the waist, cursing his less than able body as it took demonic force to catch the nimble doctor. When he thought he had her, she reared back, smashing the back of her head into his nose. Angelus howled and grabbed his (Father Donlan's) face. "Bitch!" he growled clutching his broken nose as the good doctor ran for the door.

Brennan's mind was reeling. Of course now she actually had *proof* that Buffy and Booth (Angel) weren't crazy—but she was also now in the hands of an obviously psychotic Priest/demon! Angelus suddenly appeared in front of the doors leading out of the church. Brennan skidded to a stop and tried to turn to run the other way, but he grabbed the back of her hair and yanked her backwards. She spun and backhanded him, then landed an upper cut that sent him stutter-stepping back. He reached blindly for her, but Brenna turned and grabbed the rectory sign-in book. She held the heavy leather-bound book in both hands and swung it hard, clocking him upside the head with it.

He staggered back, but still laughed insanely. "You know Doc—for such a smarty—you're pretty stupid! All your doing is pissing me off-now instead of simply eating you...I find I have other-far more wicked things I want to do to you!"

Despite the utter terror that statement brought to her, Bones didn't back down. She smirked, still clutching the book to her heaving chest. "Yeah, and its funny that you wear that collar, yet you're a demon! Where's God in all this? You're a monster in the house of God! I guess I was right after all," she said, trying to find some time to fgure a way out of this. Oh, if only she'd believed Booth *before* coming here

Angelus threw his head back and laughed, genuinely amused. "You're quite the little atheist aren't you...?" He winked. "I might just keep you as a pet...after I torture you that is," he said, licking his lips. Distracted by his taunts-Brennan slipped. She took her eyes off him for just that split second-looking for that escape and before she knew what he was doing he leaped over the pews seperating them and grabbed her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and gripped her around her throat. "I could snap your neck like a twig Doc-I'd think twice before attacking me again..."

"St-stop-don't please!" Brennan choked-gasping for breath as his amazingly powerful grip tightened.

"Do you give? Promise to behave and all that crap?" he asked tauntingly.

She nodded frantically as his hold got even tighter. The fight was swiftly leaving her as her breath dwindled. "Please..." she croaked again and Angelus relaxed his strangle-hold. She gasped, breathing in desperate, sweet air, shuddering in the arms of her tormentor.

Angelus paused to savor the scent of delicious fear. She was a fighter, so it made it all the better. He purred as he slid his nose and fangs along her face and neck. He lifted his head and his golden eyes met her wide eyed gaze. "Heavenly…your fear is intoxicating." His smile widened until it was positively evil. A few blood drops from his nose and rolled down his chin to drip onto Tempe's cheek. He smirked and leaned down to lick them away. Bones shuddered in raw horror at the beast holding her captive. Angelus raised his head again and a slow smile spread across his face. "You know—for someone who spouts off about not believing in God all the time…I'd be willing to bet you believe in the devil now—don't you Bone lady?" he whispered. He leaned closer to her cheek and licked the side of her face again, making her quiver in disgust. She made a gagging sound and Angelus gave her an angry look. "Just wait till I get my body back—they called me the devil with the face of an angel-you know that?" he growled. He inhaled Tempe's fear again and smirked, "Maybe once I'm me again, I'll give you a bone you'd really enjoy playing with, Doc," he taunted.

Tempe didn't have a chance to reply to that because he grabbed her by the head and banged her face off the wall, enjoying the crack of flesh hitting plaster as he knocked her unconscious. He gripped his nose and shifted it back into place, grimacing as tissue, cartiledge and bone began to knit itself back together again. It hurt and he scowled down at her. "I owed you that one," he said, touching his nose again tenderly.

The only witnesses to Angelus carrying Bones down the hall was the Svera Priests and they were too scared of the dark demon to do anything more than watch and cower—glad it wasn't them getting carried into his little room of horrors…

Inside the Camaro: driving across town:

Spike and Dawn headed over to Booth's apartment. "I think you should have turned back at that last street," Dawn said.

Spike shot her a look. "You said his place was by Castle Manor, right?" Dawn nodded, "Well that bloody Map-Quest thing said to take Columbia Rd. That's what we're on," he said with a nod.

"But Columbia turned back there and now we're on Hyde St.," she pointed out.

Spike's brows lowered as he read the next street sign. "Bloody hell—when did that happen?"

Damn grinned. "At that last right," she told him, smirking.

He rolled his eyes. "Everyone's a bleedin comedienne now…" he grumbled before slamming on the brakes, causing the tires to smoke as the car screeched to a halt. He made a highly illegal U-Turn and peeled out, tires smoking again as he headed back the way they'd just came from.

"You do know that was like totally crazy and against the law—right?"

Spike gave a little growl and tossed the Map-Quest directions at her. "Just read the soddin' directions, Bit, and maybe if we're lucky we'll get there before Angelus decides to make a guest appearance, hmm?"

Dawn rolled her eyes, but took the directions and guided him the rest of the way to Booth's, crossing her fingers and praying slilently that they made it there in time...

Booth's Apartment:

The first thing Angel noticed was Buffy had Whistler pinned by the throat against the wall and was proceeding to slam his head against the wall as if she were going to use his head to break through the wall and into the next room. Doyle tried to pull her off him, but she simply tossed the little Irish man across the room. Angel got to Doyle in time to help his old friend to his feet just as Buffy was using Whistler's head as a battering ram again.

"She's got a bit of a temper, eh?" Doyle teased, surprisingly good-natured for someone who was just tossed willy-nilly across a room by a girl who weighed no more than a hundred and five pounds.

Angel's smile was full of love and yes—desire too. He loved watching Buffy kick ass. "Yeah, she does," he said softly, noticing how when she raised her arm—holding Whistler above her head the boxers she'd cinched tight around her waist raised higher too, slightly exposing the rounded curves of her ass. He suddenly glanced at Doyle and grimaced when he noticed the Irish man taking note too.

"And not a bad—"

Angel clapped a hand over his mouth and turned Doyle away from Buffy and any view of her ass. "Finish that thought and—"

Doyle burst out laughing and Angel removed his hand. "I was going to say right hook, boyo." Angel looked sheepish until Doyle winked and added, "But now that you mention it—she sure isn't hard on the eyes is she now?"

Angel glared, but it was Doyle and his longtime friend was quickly forgiven with a small warning of A-keep looking at Buffy and Angel would forget how badly he'd missed Doyle and B) he'd make sure Cordy found out too! The second scared the dark haired, blue eyed demon more than the first and he immediately found something besides Buffy to look at!

The sound of Whistler's head hitting the wall with a *thwack* and a *crunch* quickly reminded them both of the immediate danger the red-head was in. Whistler's hat was lying crumpled on the ground and Buffy had him by the lapels of his jacket now—banging against the hard plaster with each word she spoke. "Tell-me-the truth-or I swear-I'll-make-you-a-permanent part-of this-wall!" she snarled a head thwack accentuated each word.

Angel rushed to his lover's side. He understood her anger, but killing Whistler—or splitting his head like a melon—wouldn't solve anything! "Buffy stop!" he said, pulling her off the red-headed demon.

Whistler dropped to the ground, choking. He shook his head, blood was seeping down the side of his face and he was definitely seeing stars as he tried and failed to get to his feet. He sagged to his knees and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the back of his skull. The white fabric came away matted with blood. He glared at Buffy. "Did you really have to smash my skull, Slayer?" He glanced over his shoulder noticing the wall had only suffered a small crack. "Sturdy stuff…" he muttered and Buffy and Angel looked at each other not sure if he meant his head or the wall.

Buffy ignored his question. Her hands were clenched at her sides and it was obvious only Angel's grip on her shoulders kept her from going after Whistler again. "Talk—now," she demanded, taking a threatening step forward despite Angel's hands holding her back.

Whistler scooted back quickly. "Hey kid, before you go all Slayer on me again—give me a minute to organize…." He held the handkerchief to his head again, but it wasn't bleeding so badly anymore so he tucked it back in his pocket before he picked up his hat and got to his feet. He smacked the fedora style hat against his thigh and re-shaped it before putting it back on his head. "It's not every day I get smacked around by a pissed off Slayer, you know?" he quipped, tugging at his collar when the joke fell flat.

Buffy gave a little growl and Angel struggled to keep her calm. "Damn it; just tell us if Parker is ours, will you?" he snapped, continuing to soothe his angry lover with his touch.

Whistler sighed. He'd tried to avoid this, but…"Dammit!" he cursed softly. "It wasn't supposed to go down like this!" he muttered.

"Is Parker mine?" Buffy shouted, breaking free of Angel and going for Whistler again.

The red head stumbled back holding out his hands to ward her off. "Yes!" he said quickly. Buffy stopped and Angel felt his knees wobble. "So it's true," the ex-vampire said softly, more to himself than anyone else.

Whistler heard him. "Yeah, it's true," he admitted, avoiding eye contact with Buffy at this point. "The boy is you and the Slayer's…created on a day that never really existed…"

Angel had known it, but hearing it confirmed—he felt sick to realize what the Powers had taken from him—from Buffy really since they'd essentially given Parker back to him. "Why?" he asked, glancing down at Buffy who had simply shuffled over to him and sagged against his body as if she'd suddenly turned into a limp noodle at Whistler's words. "Why?" he asked again, stronger this time. "Why did they take our child?"

Whistler whipped his hat off and began to pace. "The day had been erased big guy—she…" he pointed to a still strangely quiet Buffy, "didn't even remember it. How would she explain being pregnant? How could the Powers let it happen? What if it wasn't human? What if—"

Angel's eyes narrowed. "That was it—they were scared he might be a vampire or a demon, right?"

Whistler had the grace to look uncomfortable as he mumbled something that sounded like 'maybe'.

Angel's head whipped to Doyle. "Did you know?" he growled.

"What?" Doyle held his hands up and shook his head. "Hey, no…don't look at me like that, boyo—I was amongst the living when this all happened, remember?" he said. His hands waved as he explained, "Angel, I'd never do that to ya, mon. I swear to ya-on me Princess… this is all news to me…" Angel nodded. He believed the Irish man. Doyle glared at Whistler. "So, was this another one of those…needs to know situations?"

Whistler tugged at his collar again and that gave Doyle his answer. The blue eyed man cursed and began to pace.

In that moment the spark seemed to light up in Buffy again as she stomped up to Whistler and poked him in the chest. "So, the Powers decided that instead of having an inconvenient explanation of how their champion became pregnant—they would just steal my child and give it to some other woman?" She crossed her arms. "Or maybe it was just they didn't want the Slayer out of commission for nine months—was that it?' she growled.

Whistler tried placating her. "I don't know, Slayer—honestly, I don't know. All I know is big guy gave the day back and everything that happened with it went back."

"So the all mighty want to blame this all on Angel! They take no responsibility at all—is that what you're telling me?" Whistler swallowed and again tugged at his seemingly ever-tightening collar. Buffy snorted and her eyes narrowed. "Is that your final answer?"

"Slayer…you're not thinking clearly right now…" Whistler said. "It was already done—the decision to undue time had been made!" he exclaimed. "Plus-how would you have explained being pregnant when you didn't even remember going at it like bunnies with the big guy over there?"

Buffy gaped, then shook her head and glanced at Angel with a sadly wry smirk. "And they wonder why I'm done…did you guys watch us then too?" she asked softly.

Doyle shook his head. "And the plot thickens…" he muttered.

Whistler wiped at his brow as Angel and Buffy now took threatening steps towards him. "We uh…might have monitored you—only for a moment," he added hastily.

She laughed without humor before leveling her green eyes on Whistler. "I'm going to skip past the major eew factor there and let you slide on the fact that you could have helped us at any time because I get it—Angel had to be a vampire to defeat the Senior Partners. But that was then—this is now and I want my son!" Buffy looked deadly. Her eyes were hard and there was almost something menacing about her as she pointed a finger at Whistler and demanded, "You and your All Stupid Powers that Suck had better give me back my child or I'm going to make Angelus seem like a picnic—are we clear?"

"Slayer-you can't—" Whistler sputtered.

Buffy cut him off with a violent wave of her hand. Before he could react she'd shot across the room and grabbed him by the collar. She shook him like a rag doll and this time Angel didn't stop her. "I can and I will," she threatened him in a ragged voice. "You have no idea what I'm capable of anymore—trust me…" she snarled. She dropped the red headed demon on the ground and turned her back on him. "Just fix this. I don't care how you do it-just do it!" she demanded before turning to Angel. She held her hand out to him and he took it gently. Her eyes filled with tears and her lower lip quivered. "Angel…I need to see him," she said brokenly.

Angel pulled her to him. "You will…" he promised, glaring at Whistler above Buffy's blond head.

"Please…" she whimpered, clinging to Angel as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her little head against his chest as just cried.

Angel cuddled her to him, murmuring soothing noises as he rubbed her back and placed soft kisses on top of her head. After a few uncomfortable minutes of nothing but the formerly unbreakable Slayer sobbing into her lover's chest, Angel finally got Buffy to settle into soft sobs and sniffles. He raised his head and again he nailed Whistler with his eyes, but this time they were so dark—so angry they were almost black. "Go," he growled between gritted teeth. "Tell your Masters they better do as she asks…make this right because she has always been the key to everything and you and the damned powers have just effectively shut her down."

"But Angelus—" Whistler started.

Angel almost wished for fangs to flash right then he was so angry. "Jesus fucking Christ!" he cursed harshly, rubbing Buffy's back when she whimpered at his raised voice. He lowered his voice to a hiss, "don't you see it? She won't stand a chance against Angelus like this. He'll sense her pain and use it against her. Then he'll come after me and while I'm strong, I don't see this human body fighting him off…" he growled softly with an eye roll. Whistler still hemmed and hawed and Angel lost what little ounce of patience he had left. "You do understand what he'll do once he gets what he wants…right?" he snapped. At that point Angel gave Whistler a smirk that sent chills up the red head's spine it was so reminiscent of Angelus. His voice was a purr as he said, "Let's just say he'll make this town an all you can eat buffet before he heads off to the rest of the world to create a blood bath you'll never forget!" He nodded to Doyle, before glaring at Whistler, his voice hardening. "So you damn well get your ass up there and tell them to fix this."

"How?" Whistler bemoaned. "We can't just take the boy from Rebecca! She does think he's hers you know!"

Angel laughed. "Give me a break! I've seen entire memories erased—hell, you gave me a whole new fucking life that wasn't mine…so don't tell me you can't fix it." Angel glanced down at his quietly sniffling love. This was not Buffy—this was a broken woman who'd been betrayed by the Powers she fought for one too many times. He'd had just about enough. He placed another kiss on her brow, whispering his love to her. She rubbed her cheek against him and he felt soothed too. "Give us our son…and do it quick, Whistler or you and the powers will be facing Angelus alone because I won't let Buffy go after him like this," he warned.

Doyle was nodding as Angel spoke. "We'll do it," he said after Angel was finished and before Whistler could reply. When the red-headed demon shot him a look, Doyle glared right back. "Don't give me that look o'yours!" he snapped, pacing back and forth, obviously angry at playing any part in hurting Angel or Buffy. "The Powers owe them and I'm aimin' ta see it gets done. Don't bother tryin' ta change me mind, cause on this…I'm set. The Powers will help 'em or they can find themselves a new messenger too as well as new champions!" he announced, puffing out his chest. Angel smiled at his friend and suggested Doyle sick Cordy on the Powers. Doyle chuckled as he winked at Angel. "Always knew you were smarter than that brow o'yours suggested lad," he teased. "Not even the almighty Powers that Be can ignore me 'Princess' when she gets her mind set ta somethin' and I'm thinkin' when she finds out about this…" He shuddered and glanced at Whistler, "I'd say you best steer clear of her for a while, boyo." Doyle's aqua gaze met Angel's and Angel saw the love and determination there. "We'll make this right, Angel. For you and your Slayer…I promise…" he added before grabbing Whistler by the arm and then in a shimmer they were gone.

After Whistler and Doyle had blinked out, Angel led Buffy to the couch. She curled up into a corner, looking sad and forlorn. He tucked a blanket around her and went into the kitchen to make some coffee. After making them both a cup, he went into his room and got out every scrap book he could find on Parker. Smiling, he carried them to the couch where Buffy was huddled. "I have something I want to show you…" he said sitting down next to her.

Her head lifted and when she saw what he was holding a tiny smile finally pulled at her full lips. "Are those…what I think they are?" she asked, biting her lower lip, but scooting closer. There was a big red '1" on the first book.

Angel grinned. "Yep," he said, and pulled her onto his lap grabbing the first photo album.

Buffy blinked back tears and leaned forward to brush a petal soft kiss across his lips. "God, I love you," she said softly and settled herself against his chest to finally see what should have been hers all along—her son's first moments…

A little dive Motel in D.C.:

Before Sullivan could even knock on the door, it was yanked open and Collins; the leader of the council's goon-squad grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. After giving a cursory look to see if Sully was followed the silver-haired Brit shut the door with a soft click.

"It's about bloody time!" Weatherby snapped from his position across the room. He lounged in one of the two ratty gold chairs that were positioned around a scarred wooden table. Smith sat in the other chair.

"Maybe he thinks coz he's an FBI gent that he doesn't have ta help a bloke out anymore—is that what ya think Sullivan?" Smith asked.

Sully shook his head. "Look I've been working on it," he snapped. "Here's what I got so far." He handed Collins a file.

The man took a drag off his cigarette before sitting on the bed and opening the file. He stubbed out the smoke in the ash-tray and began leafing through the pictures and reading Sullivan's surveillance on Buffy and Booth. "So, they're shagging again, eh?"

Weatherby snorted with disgust. "Damned vampire—he always was her weakness."

"Ain't right," Smith muttered, his weasel-like features scrunching up in a look of distaste before he took a swig of his beer.

Collins made a sound of agreement as he kept reading the report. He snorted and raised a brow at Sullivan. "This is kind-a detailed, mate—what'ya do spy on em through a window or what not?"

Sully scowled and looked away, obviously embarrassed until he remembered following Booth and Buffy had not been his idea. His chin lifted. "Look, I got you what you wanted—do you really care how I got it?" Collins smirked and agreed that he didn't. Sullivan wanted nothing more than to fulfill his obligation to these men and leave so he told them the latest news—the information not in the report. "Listen, there's something going down at that Church-the Church of the Holy Saints. They've been finding body after body there. I've tried to get in on the case, but Tempe has been pretty close-lipped about it, so it's got to be something out of the ordinary. But I did hear her mention that Booth had caught Buffy snooping there. So…I'm thinking of the—"

"Slayer was snooping," Collins supplied, "it's because vampires are there…" Sullivan nodded and Collins clapped him on the shoulder. "And you're probably right." Collins and the rest of the Council assassins shared a meaningful look and the other two stood, tossed back their beers and pulled their leather matching leather jackets on. "But we need to have a look-see at this church…just to confirm your report—you understand, right?" Collins began leading Sullivan to the door. "You've done well, mate," the silver-haired council assassin told Sully. "Your father will be proud…but, we'll take it from here," he said. He left Sully standing at the door and smirked at the Agent. "You know the way out—right?"

The other two council men were gathering an arsenal of weapons together and loading them into a several large black duffel bags. Sullivan watched the assassins briefly, noticing that several automatic firearms had gone into that bag besides the 'normal' vampire weapons, like stakes and cross-bows. His jaw tightened. He knew what they were doing, they were going out to hunt Buffy and Booth, but once again he didn't stand up to them. He was weak and he knew it. Instead, he grabbed hold of the door knob, fidgeting a bit, he asked, "So that's it—you'll leave me alone now?"

Collins shot a look at Sully over his shoulder and smirked. "For now…as long as this pans out…" he pulled on his own leather jacket and lit a cigarette. He blew the smoke out and shrugged, "Who knows, maybe we'll be able to capture Angelus and the Slayer tonight and be on a plane back to England by morning—we'll be out of your hair for sure then, mate."

Sullivan opened his mouth to remind them they couldn't just take Booth—he was an FBI Agent for God-sakes, but he sighed. These men didn't follow normal laws and maybe with Booth out of the way, Tempe would finally decide to take that cruise with him after all. "Fine, just don't lead anything back to me." He nodded his head at the file. "And burn that. The last thing I want is the FBI to see it."

Collins nodded. "Will do, now if ya don't mind…" He wave his hand, effectively telling Sully he was dismissed, "don't let the door hit ya in the arse mate—we got a rogue Slayer and a demon ta catch!"

**Okay, guys—hope you liked it. I'm re-working the next chappie because it has some major boo-boos…but I'll be getting it up soon…Thank you again for all your love and support. You are simply the best. Now click that button; feed the evil little musie because she's been INSANE since I took her creative drive away and it's been MURDER keeping her from starting new fics! OMG! No! So just feed her and tell her how much you want her to finish what she has started now—kay? :) :) :)