Title: Our Sons and Daughters
Chapter Title: White Stucco Finish
Author: Baby Blues
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com
Rated: R
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, except for the children and the story.
Summary: It’s the morning after, chaos ensues in the bathroom and kitchen. Angel gets to know his new wards and Connor meets his new housemates.
Dedication: To Marco, who finally returned my dad’s shirt and tie. Thanks, baby.
NOTE **Please Read**: I’m not gonna go for canon on Angel. A lot of the things on that show just bothered me this season and am not able to write down anything resembling to the whole AtS deal no matter how much I try and force myself to do so. Also, note that Vincent Kartheiser won’t be playing Connor. I’m sorry, I just don’t find him greatly attractive and Angel’s children, as well as Buffy’s, will always be beautiful in my world. So . . . Cordelia and Connor do NOT have a thing, Cordelia and Angel do NOT have a thing either, and Cordelia is NOT having a baby. End of story. It’s my fic so accept it or move on. ^__~ And also, the Buffy story line will stay true as much as possible.
Excerpt:
~Aiden: Hey, Good Lookin’! . . . We all know people whose hair grows straight up needs a gallon of gel each day, but that doesn’t mean they need to hog the bathroom the entire morning either. Now open the door before we smoke you out!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Liam stared at the ceiling in silence and contemplation as the sun rose timidly in the horizon, casting the room in a bright orange and pink light with a cool breeze blowing quietly through the open window.
A few weeks ago he had been in Sunnydale, getting ready for school right about now, finishing up homework as soon as he and Eliza got home, training with the Giles after that, and sparring with each other for a few hours just before dinner. They had no mother, no father, no other family, they were just two orphans taken in by their mom’s old Watcher.
Now, they were starting all over again with nothing more than their past and a bag of belongings. In this universe they had a father . . . well, a vampire who was as close to their own real father as he’ll ever get, and a mother . . . who was alive and well from what he understood from Whistler.
“What do you think she’s like?” Eliza asked from the other side of the bed. She had snuck into his room right when he woke up.
“Same, I would guess,” Liam replied, not really knowing if it was true or not.
It has been 7 years seen they had last seen their mother. Buffy Summers had been 28 years old, still looking so young with her golden hair, sparkling hazel eyes, and a smile that always reminded Liam of home . . . of safety. It has been 7 years since she left them with Mrs. Brown in the apartment next door and gone out hunting as she usually did almost every night. She had been wearing a tanned cashmere sweater, a pair of faded blue jeans, black boots, and an old black leather jacket. ’Your father gave it to me,’ she had told them when they were maybe five or six.
Liam had a suspicion that Angelus wasn’t the type of demon to give anyone a leather jacket. The vampire might have had an attraction towards his mother but from what he had learned from the Watcher’s Council, Angelus had probably given her his signature blood red roses instead. At least it hadn’t been the dead bodies of her friends, which was also one of his favored and more grotesque signatures.
Liam slowly closed his eyes at the thought.
“Probably still burning the French toasts even as we speak.”
Eliza laughed at that, the sound reminding Liam too much of their mother. “She did have the tendency to do that, didn’t she?” Liam smiled and Eliza sobered and looked at him thoughtfully, “I miss those mornings when we’d get burnt French toast and a glass of sour orange juice to go with it . . . I actually miss it.”
Liam continued to stare at the ceiling.
“Do you think she’ll like us?” she almost chocked out, not knowing if she wanted to know or not.
Liam reached for her hand and took it in his. “Do you want her to?”
“I want her to love us . . . in the way she used to before she . . . ” Eliza couldn’t finish the sentence, but then she didn’t have to.
Liam couldn’t meet her eyes as his own thoughts finished the sentence for her: Died, Eliza was about to say. He knew what she felt because they went through every momentous occasion in their lives together. He was there with her when the police came to Mrs. Brown’s door the next morning and gave her the news of their mother’s death. The two of had been standing right behind the old woman, hiding . . . crying. He remembered Eliza clinging to him as she sobbed and begged him to bring her back.
“Liam? Where is she? Where’s Mom!?” she had asked him in a voice filled with panic and, her face buried in his shoulder. “She can’t be dead, Liam! She can’t!”
He stood there, tears silently falling from his eyes.
“Make her come back! Make her come back!” she had screamed when he replied with nothing. She then crumbled to the ground, sobbing brokenly at his feet with a hand grasping strongly at his jeans. “Liam . . . ”
“Liam? . . . Liam?”
“It’s different here, Eliza,” he finally answered, his thoughts coming back to the present, “We’re not hers. Not really.” He finally looked at her in the eyes and wished he hadn’t. He felt like he had just kicked a puppy. He closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling again.
He had always been Eliza’s protector as well as her twin brother. He didn’t want anything wounding to touch her, whether it was mental or physical. He wanted her to be always safe from harm. Why? Because he didn‘t want his last remaining family hurt or dead. The loss of her would be too great for him to survive. He would have no one left in the world. No one but himself. What would his purpose be then?
Eliza clung to him now, and Liam wished he could keep her from this. “I know what you’re thinking, and I wish you would stop thinking it. I’m not 11 anymore, Lee,” she said, sadness in her eyes. He always did this, as though protecting her from the truth, the world, will heal and shield them both in ways that was impossible. She clutched his hand tighter. “Tell me the truth. Do you think she’ll love us the way she used to when we were kids?”
“No,” he answered.
The hand holding his went limp.
Liam became angered. She wanted the truth, right?
“Did it make you feel better?” he asked cruelly.
“No,” she replied.
Liam sighed and pulled his hand away from hers and ran it through his mused dark hair. “You know that we’re not hers. Not literally. We may be part of her blood, her body, but we’re not part of her soul. We were never inside her, she never watched us grow up.”
“I know . . . but she will love us.”
“Eliza . . . ”
“No, Liam,” she shook her head and sat up on the bed, her back leaning against the headboard. “Whatever dimension we’re in, Mom will always know the two of us are hers.” She looked down at him and sensed his wariness. He couldn’t . . . wouldn’t have faith in anything or anyone. It was sadly one of the things he quickly had to learn and accept after Mom died. He had no hope. In his opinion, nothing good ever came without a price. And whether that price was too high or too low, it was a bargain Liam didn’t risk gambling with. Eliza had to prove him wrong. “A mother never forgets. Isn’t that what she always said?”
Liam gazed back at her. He remembered, but that was usually when they would steal cookies from the pantry and try and convince her that they brushed their teeth when really they didn’t. But he wasn’t about to tell Eliza that. Their mother, their real one, was dead and gone. The love she gave them went along with her.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Angel gradually woke up with a painful headache accompanied by an excruciating throbbing twinge in the back of his skull. He groaned and rolled over, arms splayed out across his down comforters. The pounding and the ache in his head grew as his hearing cleared through his waking grogginess. The sounds of shouting and knocking outside his door enhanced the hurt in his brain. He groaned again and stared at the ceiling with blinking eyes, trying to get a hold of his surroundings and his memories.
After the teens inhaled the food Fred had ordered, and Ariella throwing it up soon afterwards, all 8 went straight to bed with Lorne showing them their rooms. Angel followed shortly afterwards, too tired to talk to them and make them feel at home in this new dimension. He didn’t even know how to deal or talk to even one teenager, and now he had a house full of them he had to care for.
A knock sounded at the door again.
“What?” he grumbled.
He heard the door creak open, letting in the distant sounds of arguing. “Angel?”
It was Lorne.
The demon closed the door, shutting out the noise along with it. Angel let out a sigh of relief.
“Some of your kids are raging a campaign outside that will soon transform into The Battle of Saratoga.”
“What? Why?”
“The bathrooms in 7 of the rooms aren’t working. The toilets aren’t running properly and they’re not getting any hot water. Gunn and Wesley are trying to look into it. But your eldest, Austin I believe, is the only one with a working bathroom and the kids are lined outside it.” He shook his head, getting a headache as well. “Might want to get out there. It’s like a freak show. Very disturbing.”
“Can’t you do something about it?” Angel almost begged.
“I tried. Now, I don’t want to anymore. They’re your kids, Angel Cakes, your responsibility. And boy, am I glad I’m not you,” he almost laughed.
Angel groaned and prayed for some sort of peace for an entire day, not just for a few hours. What were the Powers were thinking when they gave him 8 more teenagers to go with his already troubled son and insane family was beyond him. Not only that, but they expected him to call Buffy too?
“You okay?” Lorne asked worriedly.
Angel shook his head.
The green demon sighed. “I know how this is . . . ”
“No, you don’t,” Angel denied.
Lorne lifted a brow but then shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right, I don’t,” he said cheerily.
Angel wanted to hit him.
But Lorne slowly turned somber when he noticed that this was really getting to the vampire. “What I do know is that there are 8 kids out there who’s had a hard life, and some of them, if not all, will have an even harder future. They’re here for a reason, Angie, and the Powers aren’t about to hand them to you if they don’t know what’s best for those kids . . . what’s best for you.”
“I don’t know how to raise children,” Angel looked at him.
Lorne smiled. “As you can tell, they’re not children anymore. And who ever said you had to do this alone? Get Buffy. The sooner, the better. She needs to know, she deserves to know,” he advised.
Angel shook his head and rubbed the point between his eyebrows. “I can’t. I’ve talked to Willow. Buffy’s got too many things going on in Sunnydale already. I can’t interrupt her life now. She doesn’t need anymore complications . . . especially not from me.”
Lorne frowned. “How about those kids out there? They need their mother.”
“They have enough family here, Lorne. There’s me, you, Gunn, Fred . . . Cordelia,” Angel added hesitantly, almost wincing at the though of Cordelia being a mother to these teenagers.
Lorne cringed too. “I’m sorry, Angel Cakes, but we both know that Cordelia is way out of her league when it comes to young people who don’t exactly . . . know her or . . . understand her . . . as we do. In other words, she’s no Mother Goose.” He sighed and shook his head at the thought of Cordelia as a stepmother to those 8 kids, and that‘s not even including Connor. “The Slayer may have a lot of things going on in her own town, but as those kids’ mother, she needs to know, not only for her sake, but for everyone else’s. You have 8 souls to concern yourself with . . . you have to worry about them more than yourself or even Buffy.”
Angel was silent, knowing full well that what Lorne was saying was true. Buffy needed to be here . . . to know. And those teens . . . As the green demon said, this was not about him or even about Buffy, it was about 8 lonely children who were taken away from their home, from everything that was familiar to them and thrown into a dimension unlike their own.
“Tell me you’ll call her,” Lorne said.
Angel looked at the demon and finally, slowly nodded. “Yes. I’ll call her.” ‘Even if it kills me,’ he added silently.
Lorne let out a sigh of relief. “Good. Now you can go fix the petty bathroom problem outside.”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“Hey, Good Lookin’ !” Aiden yelled, banging against the bathroom door in Austin’s room as Brooke, Ariella, and Paige waited impatiently behind him. “We all know people whose hair grows straight up needs a gallon of gel each day, but that doesn’t mean they need to hog the bathroom the entire morning either. Now open the door before we smoke you out!”
“I’m almost done!” was Austin’s reply.
Aiden clenched his jaws and punched the wooden barrier. “C’mon, man! I gotta piss an ocean!”
The door finally opened and Aiden pushed his way through the door, causing the girls to groan and curse him. Austin shook his head and gently checked his hair before slowly moving away from the hostile glances the remaining femmes to use the bathroom were tossing at him.
He walked towards the little breakfast nook that stood by the window and sat down on the chair, throwing a quick glance towards the bed where the twins quietly sat and looking at nothing in particular. Although, Eliza was busy throwing a bright red apple from one hand to the next. She stopped and looked at her brother and held out the fruit, offering him a bite. He stared down at it and then solemnly shook his head. Eliza shrugged and bit into it, a bit of juice dripping down her chin.
Austin envied them. They had each other to help deal with this entire situation . . . they will always have each other if and when this all ended. How many of the others can say the same thing?
His gaze then moved towards Tristan who stood outside on the balcony, staring at the morning sun and at the buildings that surrounded the perimeter. Austin frowned and stood, walking towards the younger male whose eyes studied everything around him with sharp eyes.
“Hey,” Austin greeted, bending over so his arms leaned against the railing.
Tristan turned his head and gave him a small smile before looking at the street below, his motions languid, graceful . . . silent. He reminded Austin greatly of a patient, black panther, harmless and on the prowl, not for prey, but . . . for enlightenment, it seems. He was like a jungle cat . . . just watching a village of humans, not wanting to be part of their whole society, but not wanting to be exiled from them either. So all he can do was watch in the outskirts with perceptive eyes.
Austin became silent.
Tristan was the youngest of all the males, not to mention the quietest as well. He often wondered what went through his mind, what went on behind those blue eyes of his as he examined and dissected people with a quiet calmness that veiled an intensity that surprisingly never got the attention of those he watched.
Tristan observed, stored information, and remained silent. What he did with that information, Austin wasn’t sure.
Austin prided in being able to read people, but he couldn’t read the boy to save his life. But whenever he did see a little hint of something, he saw and felt and incomprehensible force that was beyond anything, even all the power he was surrounded with when he was still among the Powers.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Watching,” was Tristan’s simple reply.
Austin smiled. “I grasped that. But WHY are you out here?”
“I like watching the sun rise,” Tristan finally explained, his eyes never leaving the dim ball of fire in the distance, “Tomorrow I might not see it again.”
Austin frowned and was about to reply when a small commotion inside the room caught his attention. He watched his father cautiously walk in, fear and nervousness in his stance as his gaze wandered to and from Liam and Eliza who gazed back at him with a bit of awe and tension, as though they were ready to jump and run if he moved too quickly. His attention then turned towards the girls waiting for their turn in the bathroom, their things clutched in front of them as their eyes studied him in return.
“Morning,” he greeted.
“Morning, Daddy,” Ariella smiled up at him, causing him to smile at her in return. She was so adorable and vivacious as though nothing could tear down her little bubble. So much like Buffy when she was younger, a fresh innocence that Angel missed having around him.
“Morning,” the others mumbled in return, except for Brooke who rolled her eyes and with irritation knocked on the door, shouting at Aiden to get out before she picked the lock.
“What are you doing in there anyway?” she asked through the wooden barrier. Her eyes suddenly widened as she started turning the knob and pulling at it.
“If you’re jerking off in there I’m gonna kick you from here ‘til next Sunday! We need to use the bathroom too, and I certainly don’t wanna to see or touch anything grody when I get in there!”
“Shut it, Brooke, or I’ll take even longer in here!” Aiden yelled back in response.
Angel sighed. “My bathroom’s open.”
Brooke glared at him, wanting to tell him where to stick it . . . but her bladder quickly responded with a churn and she quietly groaned and marched off toward his bedroom with her chin held high, too desperate to use the bathroom for her pride to get in the way.
“There’s also another bathroom down the hall with only toilets and a sink. You girls can use it and come back and use the shower.” Ariella and Paige quickly raced towards it, causing Austin to smile a bit as he entered the bedroom with Tristan a few steps behind him.
Angel felt like bolting too. Four of his kids were staring at him . . . waiting for something. He had no idea what.
“Eliza, right? A-and . . . Liam?”
The twins nodded slowly.
The vampire cleared his throat and looked at the other two. “Austin and . . . Tristan.”
“Morning, Dad,” Austin greeted cheerfully with a wave.
Angel stood there stunned for a moment. The eldest had just called him ‘Dad’ . . . like he had been doing it for years. Connor couldn’t even bring himself to admit he was his father and this young man who he had just met only a few hours ago was already calling by a name reserved only for those who had a relationship that exceeded 10 hours.
Austin gently nudged Tristan and the younger boy nodded his own greeting with silent reflection.
Angel sighed. This was going super well. “I know this is awkward for all of you . . . it’s a bit more awkward for me. You have to understand I . . . ” he took a deep breath and scratched the back of his neck. This was harder than he thought. Just telling them his thoughts and feelings felt like he was stripping down to his boxers in front of them. “I’m not exactly good with people.”
“Yeah, just an anti-social with bad teeth,” commented Aiden who now stood at the doorway with a white towel wrapped around his lower half and water dripping from his hair and body down to the floor.
Angel frowned at him. “Thank you for that uplifting description.”
The boy shrugged and leaned against the door, waiting for him to continue.
The vampire sighed. “I’ll be calling Buffy later today.” He watched as all their eyes grew wide with anticipation and he smiled. Maybe things WILL be easier if Buffy was here. She had the most impact on most of the older teens’ lives, and it seemed as though they needed her more than they needed him. A thought that quickly punched him in the gut . . . But maybe with her help and her presence (that had the ability to always put him more at ease if not leave him even more in love and frightened) he can be more open to not only the 8 of them, but to his own real child.
“Do you think she’ll come?” Liam asked.
The others stared at him as if he had just asked if the moon was square. But his somber face never wavered as he looked Angel in the eyes for the truth.
“Geeze, Liam. Can you be anymore depressing? Get over the doom and gloom and bask like the rest of us,” Aiden threw his dirty black shirt at him. The other boy caught it and threw it back.
Angel stared at the boy. “There’s no reason why she wouldn’t.”
Liam said nothing, and he watched silently and without emotion as the vampire gradually realize his fear. He was, after all, the child of the demon Angelus. Nothing could ever change that, and Liam dreaded Buffy’s reaction to the news that the demon who had tortured her for months and did everything in his power to make her life miserable had gotten her with twins in another dimension. What would she say, do when she realized that Angelus’ blood flowed through his veins as well as his sister’s? Would she run from them? Terrified at what would happen if their own demons came out? Would she stay, but fear them? Just waiting for the moment when their own real demons came out to play.
“Buffy will come. I’ll make sure of it,” Angel said, locking his eyes with Liam’s.
Aiden frowned. “You’re talking like she won’t come at all. Like you’ll have to force her here . . . Dragging her kicking and screaming all the way from Sunny-D to LA,” he said, an undertone of command in his voice.
Angel sighed. “She’ll come here in her own free will . . . it’s just that . . . there are some things going down in Sunnydale that I know she can’t abandon at the moment. It might take a few days, even weeks until she’s able to get here.”
Austin shrugged. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere anytime soon.”
Aiden glared at him. “Why don’t we all just drive over there now and help her with the big Hellmouth problem. We can be more useful there than here . . . just sitting on our asses watching the Cheerleader’s hair grow roots.”
The others became silent, contemplating his words, and Angel knew they all agreed with him.
He shook his head. “There’s no possible way.”
“Why not?” Aiden demanded, blue eyes blazing in rebellion.
“We can’t just go waltzing into Buffy’s town like we have free reign. That’s her territory,” he told them. It would be unfair, just like it was unfair for him to have gone there during Thanksgiving, suddenly appearing in her life and leaving again just after he had left it. He shook his head, clearing away the memories for the moment as he continued on, “And I can’t just show up in her front door with 8 teenagers claiming to be her kids. She’ll have a seizure before you can say ‘Hi, Mom,’ ” Angel explained. He then sighed and rubbed his face wearily. “She’s got her own worries. She has too many lives to fret about and take care of. She doesn’t need us getting in the way.”
“Who says we’ll be in the way?” Aiden countered back, angered that this vampire was keeping him away from the one woman he’d been wanting to meet since the day he would remember, “I said we should go there and help, not be thorns in her ass.”
Angel stared at him, “But that’s what we’ll be. You don’t know Buffy like I do, Aiden. You don’t know how she gets . . . and when she finds out that you’re hers, there’s no way she’ll let you go and patrol cemeteries and graveyards alone or even by her side . . . not if there’s breath still left in her.”
He watched as Aiden’s eyes softened as respect for the woman he never knew grew more fiercely within his blue orbs.
“I’ll call Buffy later,” Angel went on, not wanting to argue with him any longer, “I’ll try and explain the situation here to her as best as I can. She’ll come when she can . . . But until then . . . how about breakfast?”
“Wow, he can fight evil and cook. Will wonders ever cease?” Aiden mumbled sarcastically. “Next thing you know, you’ll tell us you’re a hermaphrodite,” he added, shutting the bathroom door to get dressed.
Angel glared after him in disapproval.
“Don’t mind him. He insults everyone within his proximity,” Austin assured him, “It’s in his nature. You can’t take it away from him.”
Angel could only nod, still unable to believe that this young man was treating him like . . . a father instead of an absolute stranger, which he virtually was. It was a wonder, like discovering a priceless treasure or receiving a gift from God. This boy was his . . . his blood and his body. They ALL were. And it finally hit him . . .
He was their father, maybe not in the typical sense but . . . the feeling of fatherhood came to him easily as he looked at each of them in a new light, and he couldn’t help but marvel at it. He now had 5 new children he can claim to be his . . . he can claim to be his and Buffy’s. He beamed at that. He had children with Buffy. Will wonders ever cease indeed . . .
“Umm . . . Dad? You’re kinda freaking us out here with the loopy Cheshire Cat grin,” Austin said with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk of his own, “I mean, I know what Thomas Paine said: ‘I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress and grow brave by reflection,’ but . . . truthfully? It’s a little weird. No offense, old man.”
Angel laughed for the first time in 24 hours. “I’m sorry, it’s just that . . . you guys are mine . . . and Buffy’s,” he said, his brown eyes twinkling. “I never thought I would see the day, but have always dreamed of it . . . and here it is.”
The others couldn’t help but smile at the giddiness and the utter radiance that showed clearly on his face . . . until a loud scream echoed down the hall.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Connor stared blindly at the ceiling as his alarm clock rang like a siren next to his bed. He reached out an arm and slapped the Off button. He grumbled out a few nonexistent words and rubbed his eyes sleepily with a fist.
He had slipped out of his bedroom last night for a quick patrol. He had grown restless just pacing his bedroom waiting for absolutely nothing so he went out and killed a few demons in the other side of town, well away from his father’s usual hunting grounds. He had just returned to his room a mere 4 hours ago, bruised and aching, falling onto his bed, asleep before his head even hit the pillows.
He grumbled again and sat up on the cushions, wincing at the twinge of pain on his upper back and neck. Gently pulling the covers away, he got up and walked somberly towards his bathroom, stretching his arms in the air to get rid of the slight discomfort in his shoulders.
Yawning, he threw off his clothes and stepped into the shower, at first making it nice and cold so he would be able to wake up from his early morning fatigue. He shivered and turned the knobs, sighing as the water gradually turned hot to relieve some of his pain. After just standing under the hot stream for about 20 minutes, he finally got out, grabbing his towel and wrapping it around his waist.
Opening the mirror, he grabbed his toothbrush and scoffed at the empty tube of toothpaste. He snatched the offending object and frowned down at it, wishing it to hell. With an agitated growl, he threw it in the trashcan and stomped off in search of toothpaste. He stood in front of Angel’s room and knocked anxiously. No answer came so he casually entered, searching for his broody father with curious blue eyes.
“Yo, Dad?” he called out, knowing Angel would still be sleeping at this time.
He shrugged and then walked further into the room, stopping in front of the bathroom and noticing that the shower was on. He knocked softly on the door, hearing the water shut off. “Dad? I’m just gonna grab another toothpaste,” he said and shoved the door open.
“Ahhh!!!!”
Brooke snatched up the nearest towel and covered up her wet naked body. “Get out!” she screamed, grabbing a bar of soap and throwing it at him.
Connor stood aghast for a moment, shocked and taking the scene in with surprise. He then smiled and leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his bare chest and looking rather amused as he studied the girl who stood before him clutching a small white towel to cover her petite form from his interested gaze. “Don’t tell me you’re Buffy?” he smiled.
When all he saw was fire in her eyes, he straightened, “Please, don’t tell me you’re Buffy?” he almost begged, not wanting this hot sexy, little firecracker with the wet platinum blond hair clinging to her face and the aqua blue eyes staring up at him with contempt to be the infamous Slayer who had stolen his father’s heart. And if she was, he could see where his father was coming from.
“No,” she fumed and shoved him out the door with her right hand, causing the towel she held to ride down a bit to expose more of her breasts.
He smirked at that and then frowned, grabbing her wrist in a firm hold. “Then who are you?”
“Your worst nightmare if you don’t get your ass out of here!” she practically screamed, wanting nothing more than to beat him into a pulp and bang his head repeatedly against the porcelain sink, and shove him down the stairs just to make it even more bloody.
He just smiled down at her in utter amusement.
She growled her fury.
“What the hell is going on? Connor!”
They both turned and saw Angel running into the room. Brooke shoved him again and Connor faltered back before she slammed the door closed, locking it this time. “Keep that asshole away from me!” she yelled, “I’ll kill him if he comes near me again!”
“Connor . . . ”
“Who is that?” he asked his father with a smirk.
The others followed behind Angel and he frowned.
“And who the hell are they?”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Ten pairs of eyes studied each other silently as the clock in the kitchen ticked by. There was the distant sound of their breakfast cooking in the background, accompanied by the continuous dripping of the faucet.
Aiden sighed and rolled his eyes. “Are we just gonna sit here and play Mona Lisa or what?” he scoffed, agitated by the utter stillness that enfolded them after Angel explained to his son what all 8 of them were doing here. One would think that Connor would say something, but nooo . . . he was, after all, Angel’s son and he’d rather sit there like a zit on a nose and stare at everyone.
The blonde stood up in frustration, walking towards the stove and sniffing the sizzling omelets, bacon, and sausages. His stomach grumbled. Glaring at Connor who continued to sit there, Aiden asked, “Questions? Concerns? Comments? ‘Cause I’m kinda hungry here and would rather eat than sit there and wait for you to say something.” He flipped over some fluffy pancakes, “You could at least grunt or . . . do some sort of shoulder motion,” he smirked towards the table, “Maybe ogle Brooke some more.”
Her reply was a flying spoon to his back.
“Hey!”
“Be glad it wasn’t a knife.”
He glared at her and returned to checking over the food.
Connor stared at a crumb on the kitchen table. “What am I suppose to say?” he asked seriously, not really knowing how to react to all this. Yesterday, he had been the only child of the vampire . . . now he had a brood of siblings? He couldn’t even get along with his father and the rest of his wacky family and now he had another 8 strangers to socialize and deal with? He laughed humorlessly and sat lazily back on his chair adding, “What CAN I say?”
Angel shook his head sadly, “Nothing. I just wanted to explain all this to you.” And deep inside, the vampire feared his son would retreat from him even more just when he was making progress. Connor deserved so much more than this, ALL of them deserved more than this.
“Then there’s nothing to say,” his son replied with a shrug.
Aiden rolled his eyes again, waving a spatula in the air, “There’s always something to say.”
“Yeah, to a big mouth like you,” Brooke tossed at him.
“Hmm, funny, Brooke. Really. Har, har, har,” Aiden responded sarcastically.
Connor sighed. “Is it always gonna be like this?”
Austin laughed and nodded, brown eyes lit with merriment as he looked at his companions fondly, much like a brother would with his brothers and sisters, “It gets rather amusing once everyone gets even more riled up.”
“Yay.”
“Whatever,” Aiden sighed exasperatedly, “Can we eat now?” Without waiting for a response, he grabbed a plate and began stacking food onto the surface as though he hadn’t just eaten an entire box of pizza alone last night.
Some of the others stood and followed, leaving Ariella, who was still a little sick from last night’s scene with Angel vomiting blood, and Tristan, who was discreetly watching Connor as though he would learn the boy’s entire life story just by staring at him.
“When are you gonna call my mom? I’d really like her to be here. I’m sure she’d like to know about me. Maybe the two of us can go somewhere together. Back at home, we used to go shopping every Wednesday and Saturday, sometimes Friday too, and Dad sometimes even joins the two of us and we’d end up eating at a 5 star restaurant like Chaya Brasserie in Beverly Hills. Dad really likes their wine selections there. Wouldn’t it be nice if all three of us can do that here too?” Ariella asked with a sincere smile, her mismatched eyes locking with Angel’s.
The others froze.
Aiden glared at her. It was the way the child said it that had bothered all of them . . . as though Buffy was hers and hers alone. “Well, Princess, guess you’ve staked your claim, and making plans already. Can we come, chicklet?”
“Yeah, where do we fit in that little picture of yours?” Liam asked with a frown.
“We’ll probably be carrying the bags and driving and opening the limo,” Aiden sneered. “Serving the caviar and asking if they want more water,” he added.
The little girl blushed and sadly looked away. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, not understanding how they seemed so offended by what she had said. She just wanted to share a memorable story from where she came from, not only with her father, but the others.
Angel read her thoughts. Ariella was too young and too naive to understand the others’ response to her monologue that sounded rather selfish to those who weren't as blessed as she had been. He could tell that she was an only child and had no experience ever having to share her parents or even communicating with teens older than her.
“We’ll we get tipped, too?” Aiden asked coldly.
“That’s enough,” Angel growled.
The boy glared at him. “Just ‘cause she’s your kid.”
“No, it’s because she’s 13.”
“And a spoiled pain in the ass,” Aiden mumbled.
“Like you, right?” Liam retorted.
“Me? Spoiled?” Aiden scoffed and dug into his plate, “Get a brain, Junior, and while you’re at it, get a pair.”
“Fuck you,” Liam fumed.
“Fuck yourself.”
“I said, that’s enough!” Angel shouted, slamming a hand against the table ad causing everyone to jump and stare at him in surprise. He was sick and tired of their bickering, the way they tried to intimidate one another as though it would greatly help their situation. “Is this what Buffy’s gonna be seeing and hearing when she gets here? You want her here so badly? Then grow up,” he said, indicating mostly at Aiden and Liam.
“Screw you, you’re not my father,” Aiden shot back and pointed at Liam, “You're not even his either.”
“Shut up, Aiden,” Liam growled, unconsciously mimicking Angelus.
“No, I’m not,” Angel said truthfully, “But you do want Buffy here, all of you do. But if you're gonna act like this, I think she’d rather take on an apocalypse than waste her time dealing with all of you.” It was untrue, these were her children, and she would stay and become a permanent fixture in their lives if she could help it. But at this point, he was willing to say anything to stop the madness.
“All of you eat some breakfast, I’m gonna call Buffy now.”
Continued to Chapter 4: Beyond the Milky Way
Back to Chapter 2: One By One