Title: Kiss You Back

Author: meagan

nutmeg@serv.net

Summary: Just some sweet happy fluff (I hope). No real plot. Oh, okay, Xander and Angel hang out with the babies. After "A Little More Closure."

Spoilers: Let's just say everything, although at this point, it's really nothing.

Disclaimer: Of *course* they belong to someone else. I could never come up with characters like this. Specifically, they belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, WB, and anyone else I forgot.

Rating: G, I think. Maybe PG.

Distribution: Please ask.

Feedback: Please. I'm just trying to sort out what the voices in my head want me to do. There are just so *many* of them, telling me all sorts of different things, and I'm not sure which ones to listen to. Feedback would probably help. So would therapy, but I can't afford that right now, so I'll just try to keep on writing.

Note: I'm trying for light here, but a few serious things worked their way in anyway. It turned out much sappier and introspective than I had planned. Oh, well. The title and lyric snippets come from the Digital Underground song (from the album _Sons of the P_. It's also on the Rhino Records compilation _What's Up? Rap Hits of the '90s_). I've given Xander glasses because, well, I get to do things like that. And it just makes a cute visual.

Reversal 13: Kiss You Back

by meagan

"If you play with my tummy/ I'll tickle your feet..."

Angel put down his book, watching Xander singing and dancing with babe in arms, gently rubbing tummy and feet at appropriate moments, finally lowering his head to first blow a raspberry against, then to kiss tender baby tummy. Sasha giggled, waving his pudgy arms and catching his father's hair between his fingers. Deftly, father untangled son's fingers before an overenthusiastic infant could rip strands from his scalp, but not before his glasses were knocked askew.

Whenever he had considered the events of the past five years, Angel had thought that he regretted only two things: That he had let Xander walk out of his life one evening, and that he hadn't chased the youth into the night. Really, the same thing, but he considered them separate events. Now, watching the man in their living room and his baby, Angel was actually thankful that those intervening years had kept them apart. If Xander hadn't left, the mortal wouldn't have met Kim, and Xander wouldn't have had (albeit unknowingly) the two beautiful babies that brought him back together with Angel.

And Angel wouldn't have had the time apart that convinced him that he was incomplete as long as they were apart. All he could think about was finding Xander and instructing him to return to his life. Fortunately, Cordelia got wind of that plan and told him in no uncertain terms that it was unacceptable. She was the support he needed to talk things through with and figure out what he needed rather than what he thought he wanted.

Now he realized why he had been so... wrapped up with Buffy. She was always *there*. Her constant presence demanded attention. She was beauty and physical strength, and she relied on him for emotional strength. That appealed to his eighteenth-century sensibilities. But as he became more familiar with the twentieth century, he realized how much more at ease he felt with the changed times. He grew weary of always being the strong one when it came to feelings. And her absence did nothing for him except make him marvel that he had once cared romantically about her. Sure, he was still concerned about her well-being, but, after his first week away from Sunnydale, he found he didn't even miss her. Those first few days were hard to get through, but he thought of Buffy as a form of heroin for him. At first, she was a pleasant distraction, but as things wore on, her presence -- though debilitating -- became necessary for him to get through his existence. After he and Cordelia arrived in Los Angeles, he was going through withdrawals, so of course he felt horrible for a short while. Once he got through that agony, though, he couldn't remember why he had wanted to be with her. He felt on even ground with Xander. Instead of heroin, Xander was meditation. Or oxygen. Even if he didn't need it directly, he still needed it. The animals that provided his meals needed it as did the assorted humans he had come to realize were vital to his happiness. Like Xander.

"If you love me/ then I'll love you back..."

Xander jumped at Angel's arms wrapping around his waist, then relaxed against the larger man's torso pressing against his back, the lips dipping to touch the back of his neck. "Hi there."

"Hi there yourself. You did good, Xander." Angel reached out to touch his son's nose. His son. With a start, he realized that he finally did consider the twins to be *his* children, not just Xander's. Even though Angel had them for two months before Xander was told about them, those two months were filled with thoughts of "Xander's babies," not "my kids." As if he was just taking care of them until Xander returned to claim them and whisk them away. If he was to be honest with himself, he had to admit that was exactly what he thought he was doing. He had *hoped* that Xander wouldn't waltz through and take them away, but that outcome was never

considered seriously. He had expected to be left alone once again, just as he had been after being cursed with a soul nearly a hundred years ago. Now, whatever happened with the infants, half of it would be because of him. The enormity of the situation -- one that he willingly sought out -- would have frightened lesser men, but instead, he felt proud to have chosen this path. "The other one's not bad, either." As if she knew they were talking about her, Gillian began gurgling happily in her crib. Releasing Xander, Angel scooped her up and moved about the room attempting to dance, happily looking like a man who had not ever danced to hiphop at any prior point in his existence. Of course, that's exactly what he was, but no one in the room cared. He repeated Xander's earlier raspberry-and-kiss movements, delighting in the happy gurgles it produced. "Thank you."

Xander turned his gaze away from his son and to the man who had brought them all together. "No. Thank *you*."

~~~~ the end ~~~~