Chapter One ~ Chapter Two ~ Chapter Three ~ Chapter Four ~ Chapter Five ~ Chapter Six ~ Chapter Seven ~ Chapter Eight
Vietnam
Written by Tammy
"If we quit Vietnam, tomorrow we'll be fighting in Hawaii and
next week we'll have to fight in San Francisco."
- Lyndon. B. Johnson, who became President after the assassination of J. F. K.
“Miss Summers, we got a new one for ya. Time to get to work. He's just been brought in. Name's Liam O'Connor. He's comatose - blunt trauma to the head. He was up at Hamburger Hill, poor kid. Looks older than some of the boys we bring in though; my guess is he's been in since the beginning. He's on an I.V drip - no pain meds. He's not feeling anything where he is…”
Buffy Summers looked up from the medical chart she was filling in for a soldier who was paralysed from the waist down. “Sorry Sarge, I gotta go. I'll be back later to change your I.V, 'kay?”
“Yes ma'am. Shame they be taking you 'way though - you're the right prettiest little nurse in this here hospital.” Sergeant Riley Finn was only young, but had risen up through the ranks of the U.S. Marine Corps pretty quickly due to the need for soldiers to fight the Vietcong. He had been unfortunate enough to step on a mine while leading his troops, but lucky enough to survive.
“Well, I'll be back. You just keep on getting yourself better.”
Buffy walked into the ward in which her new patient lay, all the while musing to herself. 'He's a nice enough man, and he seems to genuinely like me. And he's good-looking and smart. Any kid would be lucky to have him as a father… But he strikes me as the type that wants commitment. And I sure as hell ain't committin' myself to no man. Not after what I been through. You can't trust men. That asshole of a step-dad proved that…Cute he may be, but under that nice smile, who knows what's lurking there…' Her thoughts trailed off as she began to work.
Her new patient was a 25 year-old Irish-American. “Liam O'Connor, well what do we have here?” Most people didn't believe a coma patient could hear a word you said, but Buffy thought differently. Who knew where this man's mind was?
“Well, aren't you a mess? Bandages all over that head, what have you done to yourself?” Buffy kept up her monologue as if she was talking to him as she swept around his room. Checking his I.V was full and his blood pressure was right, and that his catheter wasn't too full, she kept herself talking as much for herself as she did him. It kept her mind off of her life, her past, and the future that always seemed just out of reach…
“Well, Mr O'Connor, I know they're part of your uniform, but someone appears to have forgotten to remove your dog tags. We can't be having with that, you might strangle yourself! Don't you worry though; I'll keep them safe… Well now. 'Angel'. Thought your name was Liam? It's a right pretty name though. And I don't know, it seems to suit you somehow. Maybe you're an Angel sent to bring me some luck? Lord knows I need it. I'll keep these tags for you, and when you wake up, you ask for them back, y'hear?” She put the dog tags in the large pocket in her nurse's uniform, and walked out of the room. As she reached the doorway, she turned around.
“I'll be back later, 'Angel'. Don't you go flying away on me, ya hear me?” And with a small smile on her face, Buffy Summers continued with her rounds for the day.
Buffy Summers leaned over and turned off the alarm that was ringing near her head. She was tempted to throw it out the window, but it would cost her too much to replace it considering the salary she was living on. Sure, she loved being a nurse, although especially considering there was a war going on it was stressful, but that didn't mean the money was good enough to be breaking perfectly good alarm clocks…
“Morning Buffy! What time do you have to be at the hospital today?” Willow Rosenberg, Buffy's best friend and roommate, taught third grade at the local school. Even in the 'swinging Sixties', women still mostly worked the 'mother figure' jobs. But that didn't matter to Willow, who while being all for women's rights and equality, loved children. Her husband, Daniel Osbourne, who preferred to be known as 'Oz', was a rock star at heart and in his spare time, but taught music at the local middle school to tie up any loose financial ends the three had.
“Buffy?” Drawn from her musing by Willow's insistent calling, Buffy got out of bed and showered, getting ready for her next shift at the hospital.
“I'm up, I'm up! What's for breakfast?” Buffy yelled as she came barrelling down the stairs.
“Pancakes, but only if you hurry! Oz has his eye on them…”
“Don't you even think about stealing my pancakes, mister! I need the energy - that new coma patient needs his bandages removing today, and lord knows, there're enough of them! Although, I kinda wanna see what he looks like under all that cloth…”
“Ooh, Buffy, you'd better tell me when you get home! With a name like 'Angel', what's the bet he's pretty good-looking under those bandages? And, oooh, does that Sergeant Finn guy still hit on you? He's leaving soon, so you wont have that whole Nurse-patient thing to worry about. Think he'll ask you out properly?”
“Will, even if he does you know I ain't saying yes. Ya can't trust men - saving yer presence, Oz, of course. And even you don't keep yer paws off of other people's food!” Buffy slapped Oz's hand as he reached for one of her pancakes. “Although at least you got the decency to look ashamed of your actions, boy!”
“Well, I gotta go. Those kids won't teach themselves. Coming honey? You can drop me off. See you tonight Buffy! Don't forget to buy a bottle of wine - tonight's Wednesday, you know, so it's girly gossip night!”
“Well, Mr Angel, so what do we have to do today? I see we're taking your bandages off later, maybe I can finally see if you're as handsome as that name suggests!” Buffy's daily stop in Angel's room was her favourite part of the day. Unlike most of her other patients, he didn't talk back, and there was something relaxing in the way she could continue her routine with no interruptions from cranky old women or soldiers who tried to chat her up. Also, there was something almost comforting in his presence, as if she felt totally at ease with him. Of course, she told herself, that was probably because he was unconscious. Nothing to do with the fact that just being in the same room as him made her feel calmer, or the tingly feeling she got whenever she touched him to check his blood pressure or change an I.V…
“Let's get started on these bandages then, shall we? I know they've probably been mighty uncomfortable for you, so we'll start slowly.”
Layer by layer, Buffy gradually began to unravel the bandages that covered the top half of Angel's face, trying to ignore the humming in the pit of her stomach. 'I don't know why I'm so nervous, I've removed bandages from hundreds of patients, why should this one be any different?”
Buffy let out a small gasp as she finished removing Angel's bandages. Lying on the bed before her was one of the most gorgeous men she had ever laid eyes on.
“Why, Mr Angel, your name don't do you justice! Although I 'spose it's fitting - you do look a lot like an angel, right enough.” Turning away and checking his blood pressure again, to take her mind off the man lying there, Buffy's mind began working a mile a minute. 'God, he's gorgeous! Why oh why did he have to be MY patient? To have to look at a man that fine all day, I don't know if it's something I can take. Although, he's still a man. And you can't trust men. Remember that Buffy, before you go getting any ideas. Oh, why am I even thinking like this? He's in a coma, fer cryin' out loud! It's not like he can ask me out, now, is it? Although, Lord, he is fine…”
Looking at Angel, Buffy noticed something she hadn't noticed before, too swept up in his looks. He appeared to be frowning, as if he was upset by something.
“Oh, now Angel, what's wrong? Is your mind in a bad place? Now, just you stop thinking about whatever it is that's got you so upset, ya hear? You wont be getting better till you start thinking some nice thoughts now.” As Buffy spoke, she noticed the expression on Angel's face seemed to relax, as if somehow he had heard what Buffy said, and it had helped. Turning back to her duties, Buffy sighed deeply, wondering exactly how Willow would react to her gossip later that night.
“God, Will, he was so amazingly gorgeous, ya know?! I mean, I just get tingles in my stomach thinkin' bout him… Lord, he was fine!”
“Oooh? Tell me details, Buffy, details!”
“Well, for starters, he had this messy brown hair, kinda spiky, ya know? And he had this perfectly chiselled face, full kissable lips…Mmm. I can't tell what colour his eyes were on account of the coma, but I'm betting they're just as fine as the rest of him.”
“Buffy, he sounds… well, yummy! Oh, the poor guy. I wonder if he'll recover from the coma?”
“Well, I don't know. When I was doing my rounds, he was frowning, like something was upsetting him. But as soon as I started talking to him, he smiled. I dunno, it was like he could hear me or something. All's I know is, wherever that mind of his is, its not nice. I just hope he wakes up soon…” 'So I can see what colour those eyes are,' thought Buffy, although she wouldn't admit it to Willow.
In fact, Willow could see that Buffy was becoming smitten with this new patient. Since Buffy had run away from home at the age of sixteen, when her violent step-father had tried to rape her, Buffy had always kept men at arm's length. Even Oz had taken a long time to penetrate the tough exterior that Buffy assumed when talking to men, but he had persevered, as he genuinely liked the small, fiery blonde. But Buffy had been talking about this 'Angel' ever since she had first been assigned as his nurse, and Willow could tell that something about the comatose soldier had affected Buffy deeply. Willow just hoped for Buffy's sake that if, and hopefully when, Liam O'Connor woke from his coma, he would be everything Buffy was dreaming of. Lord knew, Buffy deserved some happiness.
The next day Buffy awoke with an intense humming in the pit of her stomach, much like the one she had felt when removing Angel's bandages. 'Something big is gonna happen today, I just know it. Getting ready and leaving for the hospital as normal, she tried in vain to drown out the feeling of anticipation running through her veins…
“Miss Summers? Miss Summers!” While filling in a medical chart for a soldier with a broken arm, Buffy suddenly heard one of the newbie nurses calling for her. From the vicinity of one Liam O'Connor… Ignoring the feeling of dread that hit her as she ran through all the reasons the nurse could be calling in her head, she ran into the room.
“What's wrong?!” Frantic, she came to a sudden halt as the scene in front of her registered in her brain.
“Millie, go get the doctor. NOW!” The young girl ran out of the room to find the doctor on-call. There, in front of Buffy, lay one Liam 'Angel' O'Connor. A very AWAKE Liam 'Angel' O'Connor. 'His eyes are brown…' thought Buffy, as she tried very hard to process the new situation…
“Ma'am? Um, I know this might sound just a little bit silly, but where am I?” The sound of the soft, Irish lilt coming from the man in front of her jolted Buffy back in to reality.
“I'm sorry; I'm Buffy Summers, your Nurse. You're at the Sunnydale memorial hospital, and you have been for two weeks now. You were injured at the battle at Hamburger Hill, and fell into a coma. Now, I'm afraid I'm gonna hafta ask you some questions of ma own, to make sure that bump on the head hasn't done you any permanent damage. Would you mind telling me your name, date of birth, and who the president is?”
“Not at all, Ma'am. My name is Liam O'Connor, and I was born on August 29th 1944, in Ireland. The President should be Richard Nixon - at least he was the last time I checked…Anything else I can do for you ma'am?”
'Kiss me…' “Just, don't call me ma'am? Makes me feel old… Call me Miss Summers. Or, better yet, Buffy. And other than that, you seem to be in good shape for someone who's been in a coma for the last few weeks.”
“Buffy. I like that. So, you're my nurse? Any possibility of a sponge bath?” Angel said with a wink.
“Now then Mr O'Connor. You just behave yourself, or I might just make sure you stay in the bed fer much longer than you need to! The doctor should be here any minute now, and you shouldn't tire yourself out…” Funnily enough, while it usually made her skin crawl, Buffy found that she didn't mind the flirting when it came from Angel. Trying not to think too much about it, she busied herself with taking care of him before the doctor arrived.
“Make you a deal? I won't call you ma'am if you don't call me Mr O'Connor. Makes me feel like my father. Call me Angel? It's an old nick-name…”
“Well, Angel, you have yourself a deal.” As Buffy saw the doctor arriving, she prepared to leave the room. “I'll be back later, Angel, ya hear?”
“Um, Buffy, I seem to have misplaced my dog-tags. And for some reason I get the feeling that you're the one to ask about them?” Angel questioned, just as Buffy was about to walk out of the door.
“I'll get them to you as soon as the doctor's done with you.” Buffy replied with a grin.
Angel spent the next week and a half drifting in and out of consciousness. When awake, he was lucid and had many short, flirtatious conversations with Buffy. However, due to the damage to his head, he spent large parts of his time asleep, and Buffy found herself sitting by his bed on more than one occasion watching him as he slept. She found herself strangely drawn to him, despite her usual wariness with men. Something about Angel seemed… different.
'I just don't know what it is,' Buffy mused while watching Angel sleep one night. It was her turn for the night shift, and she was revelling in the peace that prevailed upon the normally busy ward. The only other person in was the ward sister, and she would often trust Buffy to the rounds. 'I feel so right with him. I never thought I'd get along this well with a man - but he seems so kind, and nice. He'd make such a good daddy - he gets along really well with the kids on the ward. I just… No. Don't be stupid Buffy. Nurse, patient, remember. He's just so fine though…'
Buffy was suddenly jolted from her musing by the sound coming from Angel's vicinity. He was moving about on the bed, and appeared to be in pain. “Angel? It's okay, ya hear? What's wrong? Another nightmare?” As Buffy moved to comfort him, a hand suddenly gripped her arm. Trying to break free, she was pulled violently towards him and ended up sprawled across his lap. Standing, Buffy found herself held against Angel in an iron grip. Surprisingly, it wasn't painful. In fact, he seemed to be…smiling? Shifting herself into a more comfortable position, Buffy noticed that Angel appeared much calmer while holding her. She wasn't exactly complaining either - being in the arms of a man like Angel tended to make you quite relaxed.
As Buffy tried to wriggle into a better position, Angel stirred again. He seemed to be talking in his sleep, but Buffy couldn't work out what he was saying - it sounded like another language, probably Irish, she thought. Then, she heard something that shocked her.
“Buffy…tá mé chomh mór sin i ngrá leat.” [lit. I love you so much. I'm unsure of this translation, if anyone can do better please let me know, there are a few other things I'd like to know as well!] Buffy was shocked. She couldn't understand the second part, but why was he saying her name? Wriggling to get closer to his mouth, 'Only to hear him, not because he's got such full, kissable lips, of course,' Buffy felt Angel stir again. He moaned, and Buffy realised he was in fact becoming hard underneath her. 'God! Here I am thinking he's talking about me and snuggling into his arms, and he's having a dream about some girl. I feel so cheap!' Ignoring the nagging part of her that was becoming increasingly turned on by Angel's proximity, Buffy tried to pull herself away from Angel, only to be pulled back down.
“Buffy…” Angel moaned again, this time clearly. Buffy looked at him in shock. 'He's dreaming of me? But, I'm just… me. I'm some nurse, and he's so gorgeous! How?!' Her inner musing interrupted as Angel stirred again, Buffy felt him press up against her stomach, and found she was growing increasingly aroused. 'It couldn't hurt… Could it? He's asleep, after all…' Buffy timidly leaned up to him and kissed him lightly on the lips. Angel kissed back, softly at first but then building in passion until Buffy was moaning into his mouth. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair, and nearly fell apart when his hand slid up her back to pull her towards him. He groaned, and Buffy trembled at the sensations he was causing. All from a kiss… Suddenly coming to her senses, Buffy moved to pull away, but found she couldn't leave, as her legs had somehow become intertwined with Angel's. She felt his hands begin to roam across her back, and gradually succumbed to his touches.
“Mmmm… Buffy…” Still half-asleep, Angel was in the depths of the most amazing dream. His cute little nurse was writhing against him, moaning into his mouth and with her hands tangled in his hair. This was much better than his usual nightmares, that was for sure. Gradually he slid his hands forward to her breasts. The sounds she was making were driving him crazy, and all her wanted was to take her right there. He fumbled with the buttons on her uniform, and she arched into his hand. Noticing he was finding them difficult to manage in his semi-asleep state, Buffy reached up to her top and undid the buttons for him. She had long ago lost any reservations about her actions, as although he was still mostly asleep, Angel was obviously enjoying their activities…
“Angel…” Buffy moaned into his mouth as Angel kissed the skin just above her bra. God, the things the guy could do with his mouth. And half-asleep no less. Buffy hazily wondered, 'If this is what he's like when he thinks he's dreaming, imagine what he'd be like if he was fully lucid!' She was suddenly dragged from her musing by the bolt of white-hot pleasure that shot through her as Angel took one of her nipples in his mouth, her bra pushed aside. Arching against him, Buffy slid her hand down to reach the hard member she felt pushing into her thigh. Hearing him moan at her touch, Buffy grinned evilly, and began to slowly stroke her hand up and down over the fabric of his (very thin!) hospital-issue trousers. Pulling off her uniform with her other hand, Buffy captured Angel's mouth with a deep kiss. As Angel began to shallowly thrust into her hand, Buffy slid her other hand up Angel's chest, removing his thin t-shirt. She peppered kisses all the way down his smooth chest, as briefly stopped her strokes to remove his pants. Smiling at the low groan that he gave as she stopped, she took him into her mouth and began slow, languorous movements up and down, pausing occasionally to swirl her tongue around his large member.
“Buffy… muirnín, don't stop…” Angel moaned, as she continued her ministrations. Smiling wickedly, she stopped, and shucked off her underwear. Before Angel could complain about the loss (how he was still half-asleep she'd never understand), Buffy positioned herself above his cock, and gradually eased onto him. Hissing at the sensations caused, she began a slow, rocking motion, teasing both herself and Angel with the pleasure that seemed just out of reach. As Angel reached up and began teasing her nipples, Buffy felt herself reaching an explosive climax. Shuddering, she came against him, amazed at the feelings this man was able to evoke in her. Lifting herself up, she began to ride him harder, seeking another release as the tension began to build within her body again. Leaning down to kiss him, his hands snaked around her back and pulled her roughly against him as Angel neared his own climax. The sensation of her nipples rubbing against his chest proved too much for Buffy, and as she came again, her walls fluttering against Angel's cock, she screamed into his mouth. The sound sent Angel hurtling into his own climax, and he came hard, shooting his seed deep inside her.
Shaking as she came down from the heights of her orgasm, Buffy was snapped back into reality. What had she done? Here she was, a nurse, and she had just taken advantage of a patient at an extremely vulnerable time. God, it had been amazing, but the pleasure Buffy felt only served to make her feel even more guilty. Yes, Angel had enjoyed it, that much was obvious, but he was still asleep. He may have said her name many times, but that didn't mean that when awake her felt the same way. And what had happened to her morals? Her inbuilt reservations around men? They went up in smoke because some guy touched her the right way? Suddenly feeling dirty, Buffy crawled off Angel and began to dress herself, trying to ignore the tenderness and moisture between her thighs. Cleaning up and re-dressing Angel, she took some small comfort in the fact that he was still sleeping, and appeared content.
'He won't remember, will he? He'll think it's a dream if he does. Lord, why did I do this? What the hell have I gotten myself into? God, if only… No. Buffy, do not go there. This can't happen - you're his nurse! Once was bad enough. Don't you go getting silly ideas into that little head of yours. Just you finish your shift and go on home, and pretend this never happened. It's the only way.' Still mumbling to herself, Buffy left the room and her patient behind her, unaware that he had woken up the minute she moved away from him, but had been so scared of her reaction, he hadn't said a word.
'She thinks I won't remember? That it was a mistake? Well, if that's what she wants…' Aware that the woman he had begun developing some interesting feelings for was slipping away, Angel resigned himself to the knowledge that he would probably never have her. She'd be mortified if he ever told her that he woke up. 'I don't want to hurt her. No, if she wants to pretend it never happened, then I'll pretend it was just an amazing dream. It's the only thing I can do.' Slipping back into unconsciousness, Angel found himself taunted by dreams of a golden goddess, dancing forever out of his reach.
One month later
Buffy woke up on Sunday morning slowly, gradually becoming more alert as the light filtering through the window made it impossible to stay asleep. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realised she wouldn't have to work today. It had been so difficult over the past month. Dreams of her encounter with Angel had been plaguing her at night, all ending with him waking and throwing her off, telling her she was a whore, that he never wanted to see her again, that she had violated him. It had made her daily shifts at the hospital unbearable - to work with him, changing his sheets, checking his vitals, and avoiding his conversations had become the lowest part of her day, instead of the highlight it had once been. She longed for the days when she could breeze around, as if she had no cares in the world, brushing off the male attention with flippant comments and a smile. What had this man done to her? Since that night, all she could think about was Angel, his face, his eyes, his hands, his… 'Okay, not going there. Bad Buffy.' But she could never have him. And after that night, she had tried so hard to get over this obsession, but it was impossible. Her soul ached for him, and the worst part was, the most amazing experience of her life wasn't even remembered by this man. If he even thought about it, surely he thought it was a dream. Sighing again, at the bleak, desolate wasteland that her life had become, Buffy rolled over, and tried to fall back to sleep.
Angel rolled over in his bed. It was Sunday, meaning that Buffy wouldn't be in. As much as Angel missed the sunny personality she used to exude, this new, quiet Buffy was better than no Buffy at all. Over the past two months, Angel had gradually fallen in love with the blonde nurse. Desperately trying to hide his feelings, he had cultivated an apathetic, flippant shield around himself after that wonderful night. Her muttered words as she left the room had hurt Angel more than he cared to admit, and subconsciously he was trying to punish Buffy by acting as if he didn't remember the night, that he thought it was a dream. For her to then dismiss him so callously, acting as if she thought no more of him than the sheets she changed, hurt even more, and Angel found himself withdrawing. His initial efforts to start conversations were abandoned, and now when she came in to work, they were both silent other than the usual platitudes. But even in silence he could watch her, and when she wasn't there he found himself aching for her presence, as if a part of him were missing. The fact that he was dreaming about their encounter didn't help - every morning he woke from vivid dreams that began with her writhing on top of him, and always ended in the same way. When their passion was spent, Buffy would rise, tell him that he was a means to an end, and then leave him lying there, in that hospital bed. The truth was, Angel loved Buffy. But he couldn't admit it, even to himself.
Buffy lay back on the couch, her head in her hands. How could she have been so god-damned STUPID?! It had been over a month… Rolling onto her side, she began to cry, great, wracking, shuddering sobs. How had her life become this? Yes, once it had been everything she wanted. And it still was. But not like this, never like this. A product of a stupid mistake, a night she wanted to forget? However, her doctor had been very clear. Buffy was over a month late. When she had slept with Angel, she had been fertile, and they hadn't used any protection. Buffy was pregnant, with Angel's child. 'God, can my life get ANY more fucked up?' She couldn't tell him. Hopefully by now she had enough leave to take time off before she began to show. And maybe, by then, Angel would be well, and she would be able to bring up her child without hurting the man that she loved. She realised that as much as she hadn't planned this, she was glad she had this child, as proof of her love for Angel. Even if he would never know.
Angel fell back onto the pillows in shock. He was being transferred? Evidently, they thought he was well enough to be sent to a different convalescent hospital, one in Florida that specialised in rehabilitating those who had suffered 'cerebral trauma', as they put it. Basically, it was the equivalent of a half-way house. They would help him find a job, a place to live, and make him into a productive member of society again. He would be leaving in two days. Two days… Suddenly, blonde hair and blue-green eyes flashed within his mind. Buffy. He hated what their relationship had become, but to never see her again? The thought made Angel's soul ache. He would never see the blonde Angel that had nursed him back to health again. Never see the twinkle in her eyes, hear her laugh… Angel closed his eyes in grief. He couldn't say anything to her, not after a month of silence. He would just live the rest of his life, cherishing a memory of that one tumultuous night, and he prayed that that would be enough.
Interlude
Buffy hobbled into her bedroom, sighing. She had just finished her last shift at the hospital - she was now officially on leave, as her due date was two weeks away. She had stayed on for as long as she could cope, needing the money. After all, how would she be able to raise a child without a husband? Yes, it was nearly Christmas at the end of 1969 - the free love era of the sixties meant there were more single moms than ever before - but on a nurse's salary, Buffy knew that without Willow and Oz, she'd never be able to cope. 'Thank the Lord for good friends! I'da gone crazy if I didn't have them to keep me grounded. And keep me from obsessing over Angel…' A pang shot through Buffy's heart at the thought of her baby's father. In nine months, her memories of Angel were as vivid as if they had only met yesterday. She couldn't get him out of her mind, and many nights she woke up in tears, desperately wishing he was there with her. She had fallen deeply in love with the young soldier from Ireland, and she knew that she would never find another man that would touch her in the same way. 'Oh, Buffy. Stop dreaming. He's gone, long gone, and you won't see him again. Not that he'd ever forgive you if he knew what you'd done…'
Angel looked around him, and sighed. It was good to be home. After seven long months in that damn place in Florida, he had finally managed to earn enough to get back to his roots in Galway. Sure, he'd spent the best part of a month on a cargo ship to get there, but it was worth it to be home for Christmas. He'd go to stay with his Grandma in her cottage, and he'd visit his mother's grave while he was there. Lord, he missed her. She'd know what to do. Her and Kathy… Angel's mother and older sister had died when he was young, of pneumonia. Kathy had kept the young Liam grounded, and when they died, both Liam and his father had been lost. Liam took on the name Angel ever since - it had been his sister's nickname for him, borne out of irony that his innocent good-looks meant that he could get away with nearly anything. His father took him to America, running from the loss that haunted them both. Angel hadn't been back for nearly fifteen years… Fifteen years too long.
“Liam? Is that you? It's about damn time!” Angel chuckled, pulled from his thoughts by the voice of his father's mother. Never one to sugar-coat anything, he thought wryly.
“Yeah, Grams, it's me. Miss me?”
“You know it! Now come over here, and give your grandma a hug. It's been too long, my Angel. But I'm glad it wasn't longer.”
Angel hugged his grandmother, and followed her inside the small cottage. Pausing, to look at his surroundings once more, he sighed. It was good to be home. And maybe now, the dreams that had been plaguing him since he had left Sunnydale Convalescent Hospital would stop. Dreams of a blonde, with blue-green eyes, always dancing, laughing, and always just out of reach…
Buffy went into labour on December 31st, 1969, and on 1st January, at precisely 12:03 am, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Faith Anne Summers was born with a thick head of blonde hair, and her father's deep chocolate eyes. Willow and Oz insisted that she was the spitting image of Buffy, but whenever Buffy looked at Faith, she saw her Angel. Rifling through her mother's things one day, a seven-year old Faith came across a pair of dog-tags with the name Liam 'Angel' O'Connor inscribed on them. When she asked Buffy, her mother took the dog-tags, and looked at them wistfully.
“Well, baby girl, these dog-tags belonged to someone your mama cares about very much. But she hasn't seen him in a long time. A very long time…” Tailing off, Buffy smiled at her daughter. “Faith, I think it's time I told you about your daddy.”
Chapter
Eight
Buffy looked around her, sighing. Behind her, Faith was jumping up and down,
trying to take in as much as possible of the beautiful country side. Walking
along the lane towards the inn they had booked a room at until their new house
was ready, Buffy began to think about the last ten years of her life. Ten years
ago, she never would have imagined that she'd one day be living in a small
village in Ireland, but now, nothing seemed more fitting. From a hardened,
tough young girl, running away from an abusive past, to a troubled young nurse,
Buffy had matured into a 29 year old woman, and mother, and while the spark had
never left her, it had been tamed somewhat. Yes, Galway was the perfect place
for the woman Buffy had become, and the small house that Buffy had worked hard
for over the years would be perfect for her and Faith.
One thing was for sure. Faith would never face the problems Buffy had run from.
'The only thing missing from her life is a father, and Lord knows I was better
off without mine,' thought Buffy, trying to ignore the pain that she felt
whenever Angel came into her thoughts. Shaking off the memories, Buffy grabbed
the hand of her excited child, and steered her gently inside the inn.
O'Connor's, it was called, and was part of the reason Buffy had chosen to stay
here. She knew that was a fairly common name in Ireland, and besides, Angel
lived in America as far as she knew, but she hadn't been able to resist booking
a week there until their belongings had been safely moved into their new home.
Walking over to the bar where a young redhead that reminded her of Willow was
working, she received their key and lead Faith upstairs to their room. After
Faith had fallen asleep, tired from the long journey from America, Buffy went
downstairs, where she started talking to the young barmaid. Her name was
Jessica, and she was one of the O'Connor family, daughter of Jenny O'Connor and
Rupert Giles, the owner, an attractive older, British man, who had preferred
his wife's side of the family, and as such named the inn for her. Deep in
conversation, Buffy never noticed the man with spiky brown hair and dark
chocolate eyes that had entered and gone upstairs.
“Pop! This is Buffy, our latest guest. She's stayin' here with her
daughter, Faith. Come and say hello, and bring Ma with ya.” Jessica's
Irish brogue rang out across the bar, and Rupert and Jenny smiled at her
exuberance. Walking over to the small blonde, Rupert remembered something his
nephew had said to him about his stay in America. More specifically, about a
blonde nurse by the name of Buffy. While Angel hadn't been very forthcoming
with details, in his usual taciturn way, Rupert knew his nephew, and had caught
the emotion in his voice. Shaking off the thoughts, he decided to get to know
this woman - if she was indeed the blonde who had captured his nephews heart,
(and how many people went by the name of Buffy anyway?) then he wanted to be
around for the eventual fall-out. Especially if she had a daughter…
Within five minutes of talking to Buffy, she had captivated Rupert and Jenny.
And, when a refreshed Faith came bounding down the stairs, they were all the
more entranced. The Summers women wove their spell around the Giles' family,
and when Buffy excused them, saying they needed their rest as tomorrow they had
a long day of moving ahead of them, Rupert, Jenny and Jessica all found
themselves offering their services, and that of Jessica's fiancée,
Xander. After Buffy protested, Rupert insisted. After all, it was a Sunday, and
they would not get much business on the day of rest. And any that they had, his
nephew would take care of it. Careful to avoid mentioning Angel by name, Rupert
assured Buffy that they would not take no for an answer. Smiling at her new
friends, Buffy took her half-asleep daughter into her arms, and headed
upstairs. For long after she had gone to bed, Rupert and Jenny sat up, as
Rupert told her Angel's story of the blonde nurse in Sunnydale, his suspicions
that this new young woman was indeed Angel's Buffy, and, after meeting her
daughter, his thought that maybe their might be more to Angel's story that
meets the eye…
Angel lay in his bed at the inn, tossing and turning. He'd felt a strange pull
in his stomach since he had got back from visiting his grandmother. Trying to
ignore the odd feeling, he rolled over, and eventually fell into a fitful,
dream filled sleep. Only tonight, his dreams contained the normal blonde, but
in the background, also out of reach, he could hear the laughter of a little
girl…
TBC…