This is an Angel the Series fanfiction set after the episode “Lullaby” (when Connor was born) but following it’s own alternate story line.
The last rays of the evening sun tickled the tops of the buildings, glistening against walls of glass and steel. Pink and fiery orange tendrils reached out across the horizon, pleading to stay one more moment in the day, only to be taken over by the cool purple night. Behind him a few stray stars fought against the city lights for dominance in the sky and the moon played peek-a-boo through the wispy clouds.
Angel took a deep breath, letting the cooling night air caress his lungs. He often reflected on how he was more aware now that he didn’t need them of the mechanics and pleasure of breathing. He held the breath in long, feeling his useless lungs expand and fill his chest. There was no reason to exhale, no burning sensation as your body screamed for fresh air. Angel wasn’t even sure if he remembered the feeling. And still he went through the motions…in and out the air went for no other reason than habit.
The door to the roof creaked opened and he let the air out of his lungs softly. He could tell by the footsteps across the worn tar and gravel who it was. He didn’t turn until he felt her hand on his arm. She looked beautiful and so young, Angel thought. Her long brown hair was pulled up with curls spilling out from the clip. She was already in her dress, long and pure white. Angel felt an overwhelming urge to hide her away, to protect her from the world well up in him. She was too young for this, the thought, and then reminded himself that she was 22 and old enough to make her own decisions.
Slowly he let a smile play across his lips. She squeezed his arm tighter.
“Come on, Dad, we’re going to be late,” she said sweetly, using the look her mother had taught her. Pride welled in Angel. He followed her down the stairs of the hotel watching her maneuver gracefully in heels while carefully holding her dress above tripping level. Grace…something else she gets from her mother, he thought.
Outside two limousines waited. Angel took one last look at his hotel before climbing in the the first one with his daughter. The inside was empty.
“Where is everyone?” He glanced over his shoulder at the other car following.
“I thought we could take the last ride together.”
Angel glanced at her. “Oh.”
“Nothing,” Angel said with a smirk, “but won’t your mother be mad she wasn’t here for the ‘last ride’?”
She smiled, showing a row of perfect teeth. “It was Mom’s idea.”
She wrapped her hands around his arm and Angel settled back in the leather seat, feeling at ease for the first time that day. Things had been crazy the last week and now his little girl was getting married. He took another deep, unneeded breath and wondered how he had gotten to this point.