There were very few times that Angel was really surprised anymore.

But the words out of Kate's mouth had completely floored him.

For a minute he said absolutely nothing. The darkness in his eyes made them all look at each other uneasily, and not a muscle moved, when he finally rasped, "Xander?"

He heard Doyle's quick intake of breath, but Kate's smile was a gentle one as she shook her head.  "No. You."

"But how-"

"The change, the warmth," Willow put in, her voice soft, almost as if afraid to break the stillness of the moment.

Angel was completely still, his eyes flickered slightly and she saw him swallow, eyes closing as the words slid through him, and when they opened again, they were bright, so much brighter than she had ever seen them.

He turned, the long black coat swished behind him, and Doyle was immediately following his step, never having to ask, knowing the answer already even when Willow asked it.

"Angel, what are you doing?"

"what does it look like I'm doing, Willow?" he snapped behind him. "I'm getting her out of there."

"Okay, fang guy, can we hit pause for a second?" The quip was thrown by Kate, who was now standing straight and tall, moving after then to grab a hold of Doyle's sleeve.

Angel sighed raggedly, "Kate-"

"Don't do that. You know full well if you in there commando then we're all fried. It's called a plan. It works."

"You have one?"

Kate shrugged, chewing the top of one lip absently as she turned to the tall building that stood proudly in the shadows.

She took a breath, and finally, she took the gun she had holstered, and cocked it thoughtfully. "Maybe."

~*~

She didn't respond right away, but it was doubtful he really expected her to, because he merely sighed, frowned and stood.

"Desert?'

Her throat was too full to do anything but shake her head no, and when he offered his hand, she shook it off, using the table to brace herself as she stood, swallowind down the emotion.

She couldn't quite look at him, but her body was shaking ever so slightly, when she managed one syllable.

"Why?"

He was quiet, and just as quickly, he answered, "Because."

And with that, the pair turned out of the dining room, and into the drawer room, where he took a book and thumbed through it deftly.

Cordelia Chase took her seat, the news forcing a glistening in her eyes, removing the reserve she had been so careful to construct earlier.

"That's bullshit."

"Yes, I thought so too," he answered distractedly, reading the book, a hand on his chin, his fingers twiddling absentmindedly. "I expect your friends will be coming for you sooner rather than later? Have you notice everyone works in teams? All the good guys? We did that on purpose."

"Then why'd they send only one of you?"

He looked mildly surprised at the question, and then eyes widened slightly in realization and he shook his head slowly.

"Child, the choice is yours. YOU carry out the end result."

Her eyes squinted slightly, and Cordelia took a ragged breath, unsure what he saying, what he meant, until her heart skipped a little too hard and she lost a second to a blank mind and the words spit out before she could think, 'YOU BASTARD."

When her eyes met his, there was a bit of geniune emotion behind the dark eyes, and he could only shrug his shoulders slightly.

"We don't like it anymore than you do, Cordelia Chase. But you know more than any of us... its' not the individual, it's the fight."

"You know I don't believe that."

"You know you do." His eyes narrowed. "IF Angel suddenly turned, and you knew there was no way of bringing back do you honestly think you would let him go around killing people for the sake of bringing him back?"

She swallowed, eyes watering slightly as she jerked her face away from his, breaking the gaze that had passed between the two of him.

"I don't know."

"Yes you do. It's in your heart."

Her voice was hard when her hair flipped up, her eyes locking with his again.

"Then you know that I'd damn well destroy myself before I let ANYTHING happen to him."

"If it weren't for the child."

THE CHILD.

She took in a haggard breath, feeling a soundless moan escape her as her fingers drifted to her stomach yet again.

Her child.

Angel's child.

Oh, God.

"It's not fair. You can't ask me to-"

"I have no choice."

"EVERYBODY HAS A CHOICE YOU ASSHOLE." The words ripped from her as his image became blurry, the moisture hit her skin and she laboured for breath, feeling the change, the burn in her eyes as he watched her with almost no expression.

"You're not evil," she finally rasped. 'You can't... not to us."

"I'm not good either," he answered. "I don't have a choice. Unlike you. And unlike him."

"This isn't a choice I'm supposed to make."

"Yes it is. You'll have to make it sooner or later, Cordelia."

He rose, nodding, closing the jacket around his waist as he walked towards the door, leaving her alone in her chair, looking so very much like the child she no longer was.

If he noticed her lithe form shaking, her hands gripping the couch so hard the knuckles were a bright white, the tears flooding from her face, he never mentioned it.

But he paused, he looked back, and he grimaced.

That was all the emotion she ever got from him.

~*~

His knuckles were bleeding.

Angel ran his fingers absently over them, resisting the urge to lick the blood away, instead letting Willow wipe at them quickly, neither of them really paying attention to the injury, instead looking to where the half demon and the detective stayed hidden in the bushes, the darkness providing ample cover to everything but their smell.

Blood had a strong, dangerous smell; it distracted, he knew that well enough, and when his hand had scraped against the tiling he had been momentarily grateful for it.

"So this is Kate's big plan, huh?" Willow whispered, running a hand through her short red hair and straightening. "Just walk right in?"

Angel shrugged, knocking again, and when the door opened, he found he was not surprised when the men let him in without a word, Willow following closely behind.

~*~

"Some plan."

Kate swallowed, stifling the urge to glare at the half demon, instead placing an absent hand on the holster of her fun, and sitting back, heart beating wildly.

"Doyle."

"Yeah."

"When you have a vision of someone. What does that mean?"

He seemed surprised at the nature of the question, but when Kate gave him one long gaze, he found himself suprressing all the cracks about this being a bad time for twenty questions and instead answered in that distinct tone of his, "that they need help."

"Oh."

There was silence, as they both watched the house, bodies inches apart.

"I just thought. .. . This time it was a trade off, you know?"

Her voice was quiet, dismissive, but a tad hopeful, and he turned, studying her in the moonlight as if he was seeing her for the first time. Her head cocked, and her eyes locked with his.

He had to look away a second later.

"Maybe it is, sweetheart."

"Maybe."

More silence, more watching.

"Kate?"

"Yeah."

"I missed ya."

A pause, then. "I missed you too."

~*~'

He was let into a dark, empty room, only two lights lit, and on either side of him, bathed in those two lights, were two people.

One was a man with dark hair.

The other was Cordelia.

He didn't move, though his heart jolted, and her name stuck in his throat, instead he kept Willow behind him, and he narrowed his eyes, sniffing the air, looking at Cordelia, who didn't react at his entrance.

Her eyes were glowing an eery yellow.

The man didn't react either, almost didn't even give him a glance, but said in a slow, passive voice, "She's choosing your fate, Angelus. Please stand aside."

There was a gasp from Willow behind him, and he didn't move when the men came up around then.

Instead he only saw Cordelia, who in turn, was looking straight at him.

And never reacting.

And he really began to be afraid.

"Cor."

~*~
She felt her mind reel, her eyes blinked twice and she shook her head, the feeling of passiveness, the calm in the midst of such a terrible, terrible storm eating her up inside.

It was a choice that she was damned to make, and she saw him, looking so scared and so worried, and so caring that she knew that it was a choice she could never make.

But she felt nothing, did nothing, her eyes closed and her mind opened, and she felt all that the man from the messengers had been told to give her, the knowledge that she would know for an instance.

Her body trembled and her head ached, as she swallowed against crying out, the tears sliding down her face as she gripped at the handles of the chair.

The pull of darkness, the pull of good, the delicate balance that seemed neverending and GOD it hurt...

And it was so hard to keep the balance, to go either way would mean so much pain and so much battle and GOD she was so TIRED-

Her eyes opened when she felt the panic in the room, and they widened at what they saw.

There was fighting, as a blonde haired women and an Irish half demon burst into the room, throwing men off as they went. As her angelic lover tried to desperately to get to her and was held back by the men fighting to keep him where he was.

The with who tried incantation after incantation that meant nothing in the place of choice.

The chaos erupted and it was such a delicate balance, and Cordelia's life, all the good and all the evil, slid through her and around her, and she knew the choice was coming-

The choice was inevitable.

She saw Xander, and she saw Buffy. She saw Giles and she saw Jenny. She saw Harmony and Jonathon, and she saw Gunn and Wesley and every person who had passed through their lives.

She saw Buffy's eyes the day she found out she was engaged to Angel.

She saw Xander's eyes the day he opened the door to her hotel and found Angel there in a towel.

She saw Faith's face when she collapsed in Angel's arms.

She saw Kate's face as she walked away from them eight years before.

Her strength, her will was fading as the fighting around her continued, and she found herself a spectator as she could do nothing more than watch.

"CHOOSE!"

The voice erupted, and her friend's voices were getting so much closer, and something jolted inside of her and the darkness threatened to take her with it, because GOD she couldn't take him from the world-

The world seemed an eternity to her, her hand on her stomach and her eyes on the scene before her.

On the red headed witch with the bloodied mouth, on the detective who seemed the only one standing, her blond hair matted and dirty from the conflict, from the fight.

And she was tired, sliding back as she heard footsteps pounding toward her, and was suddenly leaning against the half demon that whispered in her ear to stand up, to fight.

She couldn't fight, her body was tired. Her mind was exhausted.

And the demon was coming.

Her head buzzed as Angel cried, and in his voice she heard the demon, and she shivered, sobbing and crying, and feeling the anger and horror, and the pulling of her own soul within her.

It was a deal, it was a battle.  It was a choice.

And her body fell and her head snapped against the wood of the floor, and her eyes closed and there was a rage, a flowing, an awakening-

"It's a bound thing."

Her eyes snapped open and she saw him, the eyes glowing as he took the form of her lover, her haziness making her swallow, blink, so unsure and scared and calm-

"Having my baby." The demon Angelus sung to her, swaying, the voice so eerily cheery and obsessive as he walked towards her. "What a wonderful way of saying how much you love me."

Her heart beat so much faster then, as he came forward, and her breath constricted.

"I'm dreaming," she whispered shakily.

"Are you?" He raised an eyebrow, hands reaching out as if for the world. "Look around, baby! It's our world! Our child! MY CHILD. My future. You've given it to me. You tipped it my way baby."

He came forward, and she couldn't find the strength to move, felt something inside her rumble

"NO," she stood, her form shaky but powerful, voice tired but so firm, so sure of herself, that he became unsure, stepping back slightly, the demon from the cheerleader in an ironic turn that even she had to smirk at. "I won't let it happen. Not to me. Not to him. Not to Angel. And not to my baby. It's MY choice."

"MY son, baby-"

And her fist swung and he stumbled back, reeling from the pain, from the force behind her blow.

"MY SON. MY CHILD. MY DESTINY. Do you get that Angelus? You're not in me. Not even close. It's ME in me. ME and my bitchiness and its' ME that will raise this child. You're not in Angel. And you're not in me. And I don't give a damn about the balance. Because its' my choice. And My Destiny. Which means I control. Which means these messengers don't know a damn thing."

His hand reached to his face, found his nose bleeding, and he snorted, looking up at her as he stepped back, her eyes blazing with hatred and fury.

"Where's that anger coming from, Cor? Where's that hatred? It's ME. That's your tip, Cor."

"God, have you NOT forgotten I'm bitchy in my own way?" she shouted, and her hands were on his shirt, and she swung, and he crashed into the walls, and she continued her assault, suddenly so very sure of herself.

It was the key to believe, to believe in the love that she shared, the love she was capable of giving, and the strength in the simple pleasures, the simple instincts that she had been so afraid to nourish, so afraid to slip back on.

It was in the pleasure of love. Of Being loved. Of loving as a mother and a wife. And of protection.

And the magic of belief.

"Stay away from me, Angelus," she whispered, eyes blazing, tears sliding down her cheeks in her anger, palm reaching for a splintered piece of wood. "I know damn well that if I destroy the demon I destroy the lover, but that's in MY power. In ANGEL's, not yours. You're a prisoner."

"I own you," he hissed. But the uncertainty was there, and she smiled when she saw, as she slowly shook her head, voice so sure, the conviction clear.

"You forgot one damn good lesson, Angelus," she hissed, eyes yellow, voice filled with fury and hate. "Don't piss off the bitch."  And the hand came down and the cry was heard, and suddenly Angel's voice morphed in sync with it, and she turned.

"COR!"

She sat up, blinking as she found herself surrounded in chaos.

"CORDY!" Hands lifted her up and she found herself leaning against Doyle and Kate, their hands slipping around her waste as they looked in horror around the shaking building.

"What's going on?!"

"What's going ON?!" Kate's voice was impatient, scared.

"Get Cordelia out of here!" Cordelia blinked as she saw Angel fighting off ten men, his demon morphed on his beautiful face, and she found herself swallowing, looking around, and suddenly remembering all of it.

"No," she found herself whispering.

And the rage built inside of her and a growl slid from her, and suddenly she pulled free, throwing off men left and right, and nothing stopped her from reaching the man who now stood before her.

The man who had placed the destiny of many to come in her own hands.

The look on his face was surprised, but not scared, not yet.

The activity around them stilled, and out of the corner of her eye, Cordelia saw Angel look at her helplessly, the demon sliding off his face as he moved back towards Doyle and Kate, the detective looking equally bewildered.

And her eyes slid to the nameless man's, and she found the gaze intense, disturbing, and she knew why.

He understood.

"This is over now," she whispered.

"There's still a choice," he answered.

"I'm choosing not to choose."

"That's not an option."

"You think we'll destroy the balance. The balance that's needed. You're governed by rules. We're the last line."

"The last line of what?"

"What stands between you and chaos."

He cocked his head, staring into her eyes, licking his lips slightly. "You understand."

"Of course I do. We all do. But it's OUR world. OUR choices. We've done pretty well without you guys, and if the world tips a little bit and screws up the bad guys, well so the hell what?" She blinked, biting her top lip as she staggered slightly, and before her friends come near her, she straightened again, swallowing, regaining her composure, her voice still strong, still firm, still so full of impossible belief. "I'm leaving now. And you'll leave us alone."

He didn't look convinced, but when she moved back, when she turned and met Angel's gaze with a sad, strange look of her own, when the others crowded around her and looked at him wearily, he never moved.

He had conceded to whatever battle had been waged.

Even if neither had spoken of the impending war.

"It's not over, Cordelia. The choice is coming. You'll have to make it. He's not strong enough to. And neither is the child."

She paused,  and in her glinting eyes was a danger that was never quite there before, an aura of mystery and wonder, and for moment he was completely afraid and completely fascinated.

"I'll find a way to end it," she answered. "Count on it." And suddenly the yellow eyes dimmed, and the woman was Cordelia Chase again, slipping her arms around her lover, the blonde women next to her holding on to the half demon with a grip that seemed almost tender.

His hands were in the pockets that draped on his thighs just a little too well, his posture straight and just a little too rigid, and his too ordinary features betrayed nothing.

But his eyes sparkled, and when he spoke after they walked out of the room, there was a lump.

"I tried."

There was a crash, a sound of lightning, and suddenly a voice answered through him.

"It is their own choice. They're destiny to make."

"Are they strong enough?"

"One must hope."

"And when the horror comes?"

"She will make the choice."

"Yes, but what will it be?"

There was silence, and suddenly a flash slid through him and his eyes widened and he swallowed and cried out, and in the wake was one last booming sentence in the now empty room.

"Destiny will decide."

~*~

She collapsed thirty yards from the house.

Doyle cried out and Willow jumped, Kate could only watch with sad eyes.

But it was Angel who caught her, who cradled her closely to him, and buried his face into her neck.

It was Angel who let out one horrifying sob in his lover's arms, echoing the sorrow and the pain that had slid through her body in her myriad of conflictions.

The trio watched, hands clasping shoulders and other hands, unable to say a word as Cordelia's eyes opened slowly, a dark, seeping hazel gazing into Angel's darker orbs.

And when she smiled, laid a tender hand on his face, when she leaned forward and placed her lips on his in a deliberate kiss, the tears on her face mingling with his, the damn broke.

Kate stifled a sob and suddenly turned, burying herself in Doyle's arms, who looked surprised by the tenderness but not altogether disappointed, and then completely out of his element when the beautiful former detective cradled his head in hers and kissed him gently on the mouth.

Willow found herself smiling, and when her cellphone rang she slowly picked it up, eyes never leaving the four as she answered hello to her husband.

And Cordelia, cradled in Angel's arms, could only smile, a tired grin as she swallowed, thumb tracing the curve of his lower lip, throat too full of buried emotion to do anything but gaze at him with absolute adoration.

"I love you," she finally managed.

There was a wisdom in her eyes, the kind that only comes with sadness and resignation that almost scared him, but when her fingertips traced her mouth and her eyebrow quirked, he found that he was buried with so many overwhelming emotions that he could only crush her too him, whisper his own words of love, and not quite willing to let her go, carry her to the car, for the moment almost ignoring the fact that Kate was blushing like a beet and Doyle seemed to be giving her a run for her money.

"Get a room," Cordy offered as Angel swept past them, and Kate coughed, ducking her head, hand suddenly fiddling with the gun that was never used.

"Uh... Sorry," she muttered stiffly, and crossing her arms, grabbed Willow by the arm, leaving Doyle to follow behind with blinking eyes and a whirlwind in his head.

In the end, all he could do was shrug, take a breath, and look back at the dark house from which they had just emerged with their lives, before turning back and heading to the car where they were all waiting.

Women.
 

~*~

She slept for forty-eight hours.

The two men who's life had always been the cheerleader stood vigil by her side, only Angel never moved.

Willow and Oz had taken a hotel room, never more than ten minutes away, running their lives as much as they could from the makeshift office, waiting for Cordelia to wake.

Waiting for questions to be answered.

It was under general assumption that Kate Lockley was no longer in trouble with the CIA, or any other organization.

What she was do now was never discussed.

She continued to sleep on the couch, occasionally Doyle slept with her,  a hand about the waist of a cherished friend, not quite ready to accept she might become anything more than that.

Once or twice she answered the phones of Angel Investigations, and when a customer came in on the second day and asked if she worked there, she had answered that she did without thinking.

Doyle, who had been sitting with her, didn't correct her.

As far as he was concerned, she was already on the payroll.

Cordelia now slept with a smile on her face, and there were no dreams, but pure exhaustion from the inner turmoil she had tried to keep to herself for so long.

The morning she awoke, she found a demon with a soul snoring lightly on her stomach, a hand that was not quite human enclosed in hers, and as Cordelia looked down upon Angel, she found herself smiling.

She shifted slightly, and he jerked up, nearly falling back in the chair he had been slumped in.

"Morning dopey."

He turned, registered her face, and suddenly smiled. "Hey," he rasped.

"Hey yourself."

His thumb traced her palm as he leaned forward, pressing his lips against her hand, burying his face in it.

She took a ragged breath, licking her lips slightly as her hand slid to his bangs, playing with them affectionately.

"How you feeling?"

He gazed her , eyes warm and open. "I'm good, You?"

"Mmm... better than I've been in a while."

He swallowed, nodding, looking down at her hands, letting his fingers slide through hers, the sensation of her skin against his a comforting, affection distraction.

"Cor. About that house."

"Don't worry about it."

His eyes darkened slightly, he opened his mouth to argue, but she merely reached over and covered it with her free palm.

"Look, Angel, you don't need to know. What he had to say was for me, and me only."

"Mhphgmgh-"

"No. Look I know you can be stubborn. That one of the things I both hate and love about you but... nothing's set in crystal yet. It's something I'll tell you about. Later. Right now there's no need."  He didn't look convinced, but she only smiled tenderly. "Sides, we've that whole baby thing to worry about."

When she smiled, she took the world with her, and when he smiled, he took what was left of it.

Their hands clasped together, and suddenly he reached forward, hands slipping around her, pulling her in closer.

Cordelia Chase took a ragged breath as she rested her forehead on his broad shoulder, held the man she loved with an intensity that was far beyond destiny and choosing and future prophecies.

Who believed everything they were foretold anyway?

It was the simple things she had learned to cherish.

The Simple Pleasures.

"Hey... I think it's going to be a boy."

He grunted slightly, and she grinned, "How can you be so sure? Maybe it'll be a girl."

"It better be a boy. One Cordy is all I can handle, without a Mini Me running around."

And she laughed as he kissed her, as he held her close, whispered he loved her, and let her whisper it right back.

She pulled him up on the bed with her, head resting on his chest as they lay there, quietly.

"Angel?"

"Yeah."

"Let's get married."

And all the peace and stillness in the room was erupted by a shriek of laughter as Angel pulled her up and carried her out of the room.
 

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