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A/N Please remember that Buffy has been gone for two years- most people do move on. I'm trying to strive for realism in this story and I hope I'm succeeding. Thank you so much for the supportive reviews!



Chapter 23


The two men were locked in a staring contest for several long moments, neither offering to
shake the other’s hand, not wanting to get close enough to touch each other.
Unless it was a violent touch, that is. This thought almost brought a smile to both faces.

“Spike,” Angel finally said, as if he was thinking about the name, even
though he recognized it the second it left Buffy’s lips. “Michael’s…”

“Michael’s dad,” Buffy said softly as Angel’s arm went around her waist in a
possessive hold.

“Michael’s father,” Angel corrected, his eyes clashing with Spike’s.

“What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“Have you been there from the beginning?” Angel challenged as Spike clenched
his jaw, narrowing his eyes.

“I was there for the conception,” Spike replied in a deadly tone as he took
a step closer to the other man.

“Yeah,” Angel said with a glower. “And guess who’s there now?”

“That’s enough,” Buffy said in a low voice. Both immediately shut up, not
wanting to be on her bad side. “Angel, go inside, I’ll be there in a
minute.”

“Buffy, I don’t think-“

“I said go!” she said forcefully as she pushed Angel away from her.

“Is Michael here?” he asked with a smile that was obviously for Spike’s
benefit.

Buffy sighed, giving him a look. “Yes, he is,” she replied. “Mom was
watching him this morning.”

“Great,” Angel replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek before turning to
Spike. With one final glare, he left Buffy and Spike alone.

Spike took a deep breath, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked up
at the sky. “Well…”

“Now probably wouldn’t be the best time for you to meet Michael,” Buffy said
softly.

“I guess not,” he whispered. “I expected it to go a little better than
this.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Buffy replied. “If you two had to meet, I was kind
of hoping for a more controlled situation.”

“He seems pretty controlling,” he muttered under his breath, but Buffy could hear him anyway.

“Spike, please…”

“Sorry, luv,” he said, avoiding her eyes. “I forgot, it’s not my place to
say anymore.” Both stayed quiet for a minute before he spoke again. “How
long?”

Buffy took a deep breath before speaking. “A year,” she said softly, not
needing to ask him to clarify. “We’ve been together for a year.”

‘Longer than we were together,’ Spike thought with a pain in his heart.

“So you two have…”

Buffy’s breath caught as she looked away, not wanting to hear the rest of
Spike’s question. And she really didn’t want to answer it.

Spike shut his eyes, trying to reign in his emotions. “When can I meet him?”
he asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Can you come by later?” she asked, her tone taking on a hopeful quality.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Whatever time is good for you, I’ll be here.”

“He wakes up from his nap around four. Anytime after that will be fine.”

“And what about Captain Forehead? Will he be here, too?”

“Spike…”

“Simple question, luv.”

“I’ll make sure he’s not,” she said softly.

“Okay,” Spike said with a nod before turning and walking back to his car.
Opening the door, he turned to see Buffy standing in the same place, staring
up at the sky as she seemed to be lost in thought. “Buffy?”

“Yeah?” she replied, snapping out of her daze as she turned her attention
back to him.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

* * * * *

Buffy walked into the house, slamming the door behind her, causing three
heads to turn toward her. She saw Angel and her mother sitting on the couch
in the living room with Michael playing on the floor. Angel caught her eye
as Buffy pointed to him and then the kitchen, disappearing around the corner
with a dangerous look in her eyes.

Angel followed her, leaning against the island as Buffy paced around along
the tile. “What the hell was that?” she finally asked.

“What did you expect me to do, Buffy? The guy just shows up after being Mr.
Absentee Father, and you really didn’t expect me to be nice to him, did you?”

“He didn’t ‘just show up’- he lives in this town, and as much as I don’t want
to defend a lot of his actions, there were reasons that we weren’t together.
I’ve never lied to you, Angel, so don’t start treating me like I’m the
helpless victim. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into when I moved
away, and I don’t need you playing the role of ‘protector’. I can take care
of myself just fine. I did it for a year before you showed up, so don’t
think that I need a guardian.”

Angel sighed, looking around the room before catching her eye again. He
normally liked it when Buffy got worked up, she was a very passionate
person, but this conversation had the makings of something bad happening
unless he did some damage control. “I’m not going to be nice to him, Buff.
Even if Michael wasn’t involved, he would still be your ex and therefore not
on my ‘getting to know you’ list.”

“You knew when you agreed to come this week that this was a possibility. You can be civil without being nice,” Buffy said, her tone softening as she ran her hands through her hair, her eyes becoming glassy with unshed tears.
“Please,” she whispered. “I’m under enough stress as it is, please don’t
add to it.”

Buffy felt herself wrapped in his arms as she cried into his chest. “This
is why I hate him,” he whispered. “Every time you cry, it’s because of him
in some form or another.”

“Angel, please…”

“If it means that much to you, I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes slowly drying as she pulled away from him, not liking the fact that his touch wasn’t the familiarity she longed for. Taking several deep breaths, she left him standing in the kitchen as
she walked into the living room, saying hello to her mother before settling in to play with her son.

She found her mind drifting to the events of the last twenty-four hours.
The object of most of her thoughts was Spike and the nagging little voice
that kept trying to remind her how happy she used to be with him. For just a few
months, she wanted nothing and she longed to have that again, in some form.

‘When did life get so complicated?’ she asked herself before nearly rolling
her eyes when she realized what a ridiculous question that was. ‘Right
around the time that you started screwing your history teacher.’





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