Part 3
The Present…
Angel knew the room wasn’t really spinning. The world hadn’t actually turned upside down. And he wasn’t suffocating, because a creature that didn’t need to breathe couldn’t suffocate.
He stared at his twin, and the baby said twin was cradling in his arms.
A son. He had a son. But…
“This isn’t possible,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears.
“No, it isn’t possible,” the Other said. “But it’s the truth.” And his tone seemed to dare Angel to say otherwise.
Angel took a step forward, barely hearing his twins’ warning growl. Instinctively, he sniffed at the air.
“Human,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. How could this…
“Get out!” the Other snapped.
Startled, Angel looked into eyes that were identical to his own. Eyes filled with anger and…something deeper.
“Hey, there you two are.”
Both men turned as Cordelia Chase entered the room.
The brunette took several steps inside and paused. A small frown marring her brow, she looked from one to the Other. “Could the tension in this room *get* any thicker?”
“Cordy,” the Other began. “Get *him*”—he directed a contemptuous nod toward his mirror image—“out of here.”
Cordelia gave the Other a long, hard look. Finally, she shook her head. “Angel, did you get *nothing* from our little talk?”
The Other refused to answer. Mouth pressed into a tight line, he looked down at the squirming child.
Cordelia sighed. “Come on,” she said to Angel. “There isn’t much you can do when he gets this way.”
Angel hesitated, eyes glued to the baby that couldn’t exist, and the man that couldn’t be its father.
Cordelia grabbed his arm. “Come on,” she demanded.
And Angel reluctantly followed her out of the room.
“Don’t worry about Angel,” she began as she led him out of the suite. “I think he’s freaked out by the whole ‘another him walking around’ thing.”
Angel nodded. At the moment, he more than anyone could understand that. But he had a feeling his twin’s hostility was caused by more than uneasiness.
“Let’s find you a room,” Cordelia continued. “As far away from Angel’s as possible.”
As Angel followed her through the hotel, his mind returned to the hotel. To the nursery.
Now that his shock was wearing off, he could think more rationally. And his rational mind knew it wasn’t possible. There was no way…
“It’s yours.”
Surprised, Angel paused. Cordelia was watching him with knowing eyes.
“The baby is yours,” she continued, with complete certainty.
Angel frowned. “But, how…”
“Not to go into details or anything, but there was some *major* magic mojo involved.”
Angel nodded. He’d seen the incredible, impossible things magic could do. He imagined it would take a great deal to make a vampire a father.
Angel almost staggered to a stop when another though slammed into his mind. If he *was* a father—if he could truly make himself believe that—then who was…
“It’s not Buffy.”
Pausing, he turned to stare at Cordelia. How did she keep *doing* that?
Cordelia grinned. “No, I can’t read your mind. But I remember what you were like three years ago. You pretty much had Buffy—and not much else—on the brain.”
With a perfunctory nod, Angel started walking again.
“You weren’t much of a talker either,” Cordelia muttered as she trailed behind him.
Angel barely heard her. He was too busy watching his thoughts race.
If he *was* the father, and Buffy *wasn’t* the mother…
((No,)) he thought, shaking his head. He loved Buffy. She was everything to him. There was no way he would betray her to be with someone else. Just the thought of doing such a thing seemed as impossible as…a vampire becoming a father.
Abruptly, he spun around.
Cordelia let out a startled shriek, barely managing to stop before she barreled into him.
“Who *is* the mother?” he demanded.
“Geez!” Cordelia gasped. Hand pressed to her heart, she took several deep breaths. “That’s one of the things I’m not supposed to tell you,” she finally answered. Then, she pursed her lips into a frown. “I *can* tell you she wasn’t one of my favorite people in the world.”
“*Wasn’t* one of your favorite people? So she’s not…around anymore.”
Cordelia looked surprised, like she’d revealed more than she intended. But she nodded. “His mother…left right after he was born. And it was probably the best thing she ever did.”
Angel waited for her to add more. Realizing she wasn’t going to, he continued down the hallway.
A son. He had a son.
Cordelia believed it. And his twin believed it. So, maybe…
Angel felt something squeeze his heart. It wasn’t the usual, oppressive weight that rested there. This was something new. Something uncertain but…good.
“What’s his name?” he muttered, a catch in his throat.
Cordelia cast a sharp look in his direction. Then, a gentle smile curved her lips. “Connor.”
“Connor,” Angel whispered. It was a good name. A good, Irish name.
Finally, Cordelia opened the door to a clean, sparsely furnished room.
“There’s not a lot of interesting décor to distract you,” she said. “So it’s perfect for resting. Or brooding.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you hungry? Want me to toss some O pos in the microwave?”
“What?” Startled, Angel stared at her.
“Blood,” she said slowly, tone a little patronizing. “Do you want me to get you some?”
Uncomfortable, shook his head. He never discussed his diet with anyone. Not even Buffy. When he was hurt, and she had to bring blood to him, he’d always been too embarrassed to feed in front of her.
“Well, if you change your mind,” Cordelia said, and she started to leave the room.
“Cordelia,” he called.
“Yeah?” She gave him a questioning look.
“What are you doing here? With…him?
Her smile was bright enough to rival a sunrise. “That’s another one of those things I can’t tell you.” With an apologetic shrug, she closed the door.
***
For two hours, Angel tried to sleep. He *was* tired. Every second, weariness seeped further into his bones.
But his mind wouldn’t rest. There were too many questions.
He wanted to know about Buffy. The fact that he didn’t filled him with frustration.
Was she here in LA?
She had to be. He couldn’t imagine his future self being here otherwise. There was no way he would have left her in Sunnydale.
He couldn’t imagine betraying her, either. But he obviously had. He’d been with—had a child with—another woman.
He had obviously hurt her deeply. Hurt her so much that she had left him…
Feeling the stirrings of panic, Angel sat up in the bed. He wasn’t going to *think* about this. It was pointless. And frustrating. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it!
Restless, Angel stood. He really wanted to be alone right now. To think. But he couldn’t stay trapped in these four walls, with nothing but questions that didn’t have answers.
So, leaving the room, he began to roam around the hotel.
He found that, for the most part, the building was empty. He found a fully furnished room here and there, even a few that felt lived in. But most were filled with broken furnishing, if any at all, and in serious need of repair.
He paused at the top of the steps and looked down at the lobby. The only person he saw was Fred. She was sitting at a desk, on the computer. Smiling happily as her hands flew across the keys.
Frowning, he wondered where everyone else was.
And that’s when he heard it.
Singing.
Really bad singing.
Turning his head towards the sound, he listened. And finally identified the song as…a lullaby.
Curious, he followed the song. Into the suite he’d visited earlier. Pausing outside the door to the nursery.
Cordelia Chase held baby Connor in her arms. She was swaying from side to side, singing the lullaby with gusto, unmindful of the occasional flat note.
When she finished, the sound of baby-laughter filled the room.
“And your Uncle Lorne says I have no talent for singing,” she scoffed.
When she turned towards the door, Angel found himself stepping back so she wouldn’t see him. He didn’t know why. He just…
“My little Connor Wonnor,” she crooned. “You are just the sweetest, cutest, handsomest baby in the whole world. I could just eat you up.” There was a thoughtful pause. “I guess I really shouldn’t say stuff like that around here, huh?”
The baby giggled in response.
“You think you’re having fun now, wait ‘til your daddy gets back. If beating up on slimy, virgin sacrificing demons doesn’t cheer him up, maybe a night of Disney will. What do you think?”
And, again, she started to sing.
Angel edged forward, so that he could see *into* the room without being seen himself.
Cordelia was dancing gently around the nursery. Swaying and spinning. Making the baby laugh even more.
Watching them, Angel felt the same squeezing in his chest. But stronger this time. Deeper.
Cordelia Chase might not have given birth to that baby.
But Angel suddenly knew exactly who Connor’s mother was.