Sunnydale, 2001

"There's something wrong with me."

Giles crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "There is nothing wrong with you, Spike, except that you are standing in my home and I believe I've told you to stay away."

"That's not what I mean," the vampire responded, walking over to the table and sitting down. "I think I'm going crazy. Insane, crazy, like Dru." He began rubbing his hands together, gazing up at the Watcher through wide eyes. There was a touch of panic in the vampire's voice and a vunerableness in him that Giles had never seen.

"Why do you think that?" he asked, relenting. Giles walked over to his couch and sat on the arm.

"I love Buffy."

Giles closed his eyes in annoyance. "Yes, Spike, you've told us. We're very unimpressed."

Spike ran his hand through his hair, mussing his blond locks. "But I *do *. I really love her and now I'm completely miserable!" Spike bit his thumb hard, then looked at Giles again, eyes pleading. "Look at me! I'm going crazy. I can't hardly sleep and I can't eat and killing demons isn't as fun as it used to be." The vampire ran a hand over his face. "I cried when I found out about Joyce, Rupert, cried! Me, the Big Bad, crying like a baby because some chit's mum bit the dust."

Giles raised his eyebrow. "Well, you certainly are a terrific actor."

"I'm not acting!"

"What is it you want *me * to do, Spike?"

"I don't know." The vampire rose, still agitated, and began pacing. "I feel guilty, you know."

"About all those deaths you caused?"

Spike waved his hand dismissively. "No. I'm a vampire. Why should I care about that?" he asked, reasonably. "No, about Captain Cardboard - uh, Riley. I shouldn't have done it llike I did. I should have tried and helped him."

"He wouldn't have wanted you either, if that is what you were thinking."

Spike stopped, staring wide eyed at Giles. "Don't know what you mean."

"Please; the only person you are more attracted to than Buffy was Riley. I could see that quite plainly. You had a choice: him or her and you chose her. Now you're regretting it."

The vampire pinched the vein on his neck hard in a distracted manner. " S'not true. Just thought I shoulda done something other than burst in on him, that's all." A deep red mark blossomed where he pinched himself.

Giles rose and walked to Spike. Taking the vampire's hand in his, Giles pushed up one sleeve of the duster. The skin was covered in bruises. Understanding began to dawn. "Where is Harmony?"

Spike shrugged. "Dunno. Left Sunnydale, finally. Said she wasn't going to be second to some stupid slayer."

"How long ago?"

"Few days, why?"

Giles began to gently run his hand up and down Spike's skin in a soothing caress. The vampire closed his eyes, body immediately relaxing.

"How long has it been since you've had sex?" was Giles's next question.

"None of your business, now, is it mate?" was the defiant answer.

The Watcher took Spike by the chin, holding him firmly until the blue eyes opened. "How long has it been since anyone has touched you?" he asked softly, a dominating tone edging his words.

The deep blue eyes went wide with surprise. "Few days, maybe a week. Tried to get a whore, but didn't have the money; couldn't seduce anyone for some reason; stupid lot of bitches in this town."

Giles was silent for a moment, still stroking the vampire's arm soothingly. Angel had once told Giles what the Watcher's diary left out about Spike. About how the blond vampire needed to be caressed, loved, touched, beaten, anything just as long as attention was paid or else he began to unravel. Touch was the key to controlling Spike when the vampire had lost control himself. Now, with no mate, no girlfriend, no power, and no ability to form a new clan thanks to the chip, Spike had definitely lost control. In Giles's hands were the key to getting Spike to work for their side indefinitely, or at least until the chip was deactivated and he could kill again. And with Joyce's death hurting Buffy so, an extra fighter would be helpful.

But did he really want to do what was necessary? Giving Spike what he needed might prove harder than it sounded.

Spike suddenly pulled away. "You can't help me. Don't know what I was thinking, coming to an old, has been like you. See ya, mate." He turned to go.

Without pausing to think, Giles grabbed Spike, forced him around and bit him on the neck hard enough to draw blood.

The vampire stiffened and moaned.

"I know what you need, Spike," Giles whispered into Spike's ear. "I can make the pain of being alone go away, but you have to do something for me."

Spike's hands were on Giles's arms, holding on tightly. "What?"

The Watcher licked the wound, wincing at the coppery taste of the blood. "Fight on our side, do what I say without question. Obey me until I release you."

"I can't."

"I think you can. Think about it, if you do this, then Buffy will see you doing good and maybe - maybe - she will want you. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes."

"Then, will you do as I say?" Giles bit the wound again.

Spike's knees buckled and he fell against the human. "Ripper," he moaned.

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Good." Giles pulled away. "Down on your knees, boy, and show me your devotion."

As the vampire happily complied, Giles sighed. There were, he supposed, worse ways to go about this. He felt the cool mouth enjulf his apidly hardening member. Definitely, it could be much, much worse.

* * *

"Giles was your lover?" Riley asked, his tone incredulous.

Spike, his head pillowed on Riley's stomach, looked up. "No. He took over Angel's duties for awhile, that's all."

"Being under the command of a human doesn't really seem your style, Spike." He stroked his lover's back gently.

"Well, I was sick and confused. The chip was reeking havoc with everything. I was alone and I *hate * being alone. I wanted Buffy and couldn't have her, NO vampire's would listen to me, no demons would have me, so I had to turn to him. And he kept me sane until Buffy realized she wanted me. Then he stopped and I did good because it made her happy."

"And now you do good why?"

Spike grinned. "Because the alternative would be to go up against Angel and not have you, and I don't like that idea at all. I don't need to kill humans, never have. I'm more of a lover who has to fight 'cause I need blood. Only really killed extravagantly for attention and right now I've got plenty of it." He slid up Riley's body to kiss him deeply.

"That you do. But, God, Rupert Giles?" Riley replied when Spike pulled back to let him breath.

"He's got this lovely dark and evil streak, just like you've got this beautiful commanding streak." Spike gently traced Riley's scarred jaw line, his eyes soft and loving. "I like it when you tell me what to do. In fact . . .Riley? What's wrong?"

Gasping for air, Riley struggled to sit up. "I don't know. I can't breathe. I . .."

"Youre hearts racing." Spike placed his head on Riley's chest, over his heart. "Fuck, it's too fast. Stay here; gonna call the hospital. Don't worry, Riley; it'll be ok. Just stay with me."

Riley lay back on the bed as Spike ran out of the room, hand over his heart, just trying to breath. His lover's words rang through his head, "Just stay with me."

Gasping, he whispered back, "I'll try."

*****

Anne walked down the stairs slowly, holding her head. "Angel?" she said softly.

The vampire looked up, then quickly rose to go to her. "Are you ok?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leading her the rest of the way down. He sat her in a chair before leaving to get her some pain killers. Cordelia had trained him well on how to respond to a vision victim.

"Yeah, I guess. Tomorrow night there's a girl you are supposed to meet at a super market on Orange. She's in trouble." Gratefully, the blond took the pills, swallowed them, then smiled weakly. "They're more painful than I thought and I imagined they'd be pretty bad."

"Well, it's hard to know what pain will feel like." He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sorry you suggested it?"

"God no. I want to help, and this helps. I know I do important work down at the shelter, but being around you demon hunters so much, I feel like sometimes I don't do enough."

"Anne, you've been running that place since you were basically a kid yourself. I personally think that you do too much sometimes. I'm just glad that now you're giving some of the other workers more responsibility so you can have time to rest."

She shrugged. "Well, I need to. Cordelia needs help getting ready for the baby." The blond bit her lip. "Angel, do you think I'm pushing her?"

He was silent a moment, considering. "I don't know. No, I don't think you are pushing her into anything she doesn't want, or at least, doesn't think she wants. I think there is a chance that she was clinging to you to help her with the loss of Gunn and being pregnant, and now she knows how you feel, she's holding on even more. I think she does need the kind of support and love that you give her. What I don't know is the extent of her feelings or how much we can trust her to be feeling what she thinks she's feeling right now." He paused. "Did that make sense?"

"You mean, she may think she wants me as more than a friend, but because she's in mourning and her hormones are all over the place, she may not as much later?"

"Basically." The vampire leaned forward and took her hand. "She would never intentionally hurt you and I can see her trying to treat this like a friendship still, only with a new way to deal with it. Maybe she will fall in love with you and want you the way you want her, I just think you should be careful. Just in case."

Her eyes sad, Anne nodded. "Yeah, I guess I agree. It's hard, you know? Loving someone who may or may not love you back."

"I kind of have an idea. I think everyone in this house does. We've all been there at one time or another."

"Then I'm in good company." Anne stood, squeezing Angel's hand. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Get some sleep."

"I will. And you try and relax a bit. Wesley is fine, I'm sure, and Xander sounds like he's having a great time. You know, when he's not spending his nights in the hospital and his days catching up on sleep."

"I'm just worried about all those handsome men and women running around. Him all alone, looking as beautiful as he does, on an island: he may never want to come home." He paused. "I miss him so much."

"I know." She sighed. "They'll be back soon. End of the week, right?"

Angel nodded. "It just seems so far away."

Anne walked over and hugged him. "You look like you can use this."

"Thanks." He squeezed her, then let go. "I think I can last. All I want is for them all to come home, alive and well."

"They will, I promise."

Spike ran down the stairs. "Is the ambulance here yet?"

"What's the matter?" Angel asked, rising.

"Something's wrong with Riley. He can't breathe; his hearts too fast." The blue eyes were wide and scared.

As Angel and Anne began to go for the stairs, an ambulance pulled up in front of the hotel. A few seconds later, the EMT's rushed in.

"This way." Spike darted back up the stairs.

Angel and Anne followed. "What next?" Angel sighed, heart contracting in fear.

* * *

Riley lay on the bed, breathing steadily. Spike was next to him, eyes on the monitor above him, listening to his lover's heart beat.

"He should be fine now," the doctor said. "His medication just wasn't working right. I'm prescribing new medication for his heart and something for his breathing. You say he's been shaking at night?"

"Yeah; he was going to tell you when he saw you later in the week. He had an appointment," Spike replied.

"The new heart medication should help, but I'll have to do a more complete exam later. The shaking may continue. In the mean time, make sure he gets plenty of rest and not to over exert himself. Try to keep the stress level low."

Spike snorted. "He works at a high school; stress is part of the job description."

Angel put his hand on his childe's shoulder. "Then it's up to you to make sure he relaxes at home."

"That's right," the doctor said firmly. "He should be released tomorrow. Try not to worry too much; it was a minor attack."

"Thank you doctor," Angel said.

"My pleasure. Oh, and my thoughts and prayers are with your family and the Prophet right now. I hope he is ok."

"We hope so too."

The doctor left and Spike laid his head on the bed, gazing up at Riley. "I don't want to lose him, Angel."

"You're not going to, Spike." Angel gently caressed his childe's neck, full of tenderness for his poor boy.

Spike reached out and took Riley's hand, squeezing it. The former solider opened his eyes and smiled at his lover; encouraged, Spike began to purr.

Riley's smile grew. "What did I do to get you to purr?"

"You stayed," Spike answered simply. He reached up to kiss Riley tenderly. "You stayed with me."

*****
Part 11:

A week later. . .

To everyone around, Angel was the soul of calm. He stood under the awning at the airport, gazing serenely at the plane that had just landed and was rolling along the runway towards them. His hands were in his pockets, face expressionless, not moving, not breathing.

The ambulance drivers, hospital staff and the few news crews that had gathered to witness Wesley and Lindsey's return to L.A. knew what he was. Still uncomfortable with the idea of demons and vampire among them, they were experiencing firsthand the uncomfortablness that came when told all vampires are evil but that they could trust Angel. Granted, he had helped save the world, but with the outbreak of anti-vampirism sentiments after the war, Angel knew he was only saved because Wesley - loved and adored as he was - had proclaimed the vampire as being safe. So, the group gave him ample space and watched him out of the corner of their eyes, trying not to be nervous, and marveling at his extreme impassivity.

Of course, the vampire was anything but impassive. He was churning with all kind of emotions inside. Xander was coming home; he'd been gone almost a month and a half. Since getting together, he and the mortal hadn't been separated for more than a day. Missing him was a powerful ache, stronger than Angel would have thought. He knew that when he saw his lover, it would take all the control he had not to strip him of his clothes and make love to him right on the runway.

Oh, that was a nice thought. Angel followed that path to distract himself in the slow moments before the plane stopped. In fact, when it did and Xander was the first out, the vampire literally had to remind himself not to follow through with it.

Xander jogged over to him with easy grace. "Hey stranger," he said, a loving smile breaking out on his face despite the obvious worry etched into it.

For the moment, Angel ignored the worry, needing to pull Xander to him and taste his lips again. He hungrily explored the longed for mouth, searching every inch as he held tight to *his * Xander, smelling him, feeling him, loving him.

Xander went limp in his arms, groaning into Angels mouth. Reluctantly, he pulled back. "Oh, God, Angel, I want you so much. I've missed you."

"Me too." Angel hugged him hard, burying his face in Xander's hair.

The author pulled back. "Angel, Wesley needs you. Now. I don't think Willow's going to be able to handle him when they take Lindsey away."

His lover's words caused Angel's stomach to drop, a bad feeling spreading through him. "What happened?" the vampire asked, pulling away and beginning to go to the plane. Already, the people from the hospital were in the plane, getting ready to take Lindsey.

"Lindsey's real bad. He seemed ok when we left, but when we were about half way here, we hit some turbulence. He got really sick and it just got worse. He's unconscious right now, but alive, barely. Wesley's . . .Wesley's . . .just go see him."

Angel ran up the steps into the plane. Lindsey was on a gurney, strapped down. The vampire could just barely make out his too slow heartbeat as the crew, talking a mile a minute, began to unload him. Tearing his eyes away, he found Wesley and Willow.

Wesley was curled in his seat, knees drawn to his chest, arms clasped around them. His eyes were a piercing silver, skin glowing, breathing in short, rough gasps. Willow had her eyes closed, hand on his head. Angel knew she was trying to draw power from him; Tara had done it a few times, but she had been a sorceress. Willow was just a witch.

Sensing Angel, she glanced over at him, eyes full of tears. For a long moment, they gazed at each other before the witch rose silently. She went to him.

"I don't think he's going to be able to control it, Angel," she whispered. "He's drawing in power too fast."

"Get everyone away as fast as you can. Just have them take Lindsey; I'll follow in the car. Go, now."

Willow nodded and rushed out, urging the crew to go.

Angel knelt in front of Wesley. "Wes?"

"Why?" came the plaintive question.

"I don't know. He's not dead; maybe he'll get better."

"Maybe." Wesley shut his eyes, chest heaving, holding his breath.

Sensing the danger, Angel lifted Wesley in his arms and ran out of the plane. They were in a private field, luckily, so there weren't many people or planes around. The vampire ran as far away from everything as he could before he set the sorcerer down.

As soon as he did, Wesley's power exploded everywhere. Angel was knocked off his feet, flying though the air before hitting the ground. Behind him, he could hear glass shattering and the plane rocking, blue light rushing over everything. When he sat up, he was relieved to see the ambulance had already gone, screaming away into the night so only the news crews had been effected by Wesley's explosion.

Wesley, now lying on the ground, unconscious, blood slowly dripping from his nose and mouth, bruises forming around his eyes, his skin pale, pale white.

*****
Part 12:

Three weeks later. . .

"Wesley, you've been here all day. You should go," Lindsey said, his voice still sounding too weak to Angel's ears.

The sorcerer squeezed the hand he was holding tighter. "I don't want to leave you. I'm fine right here."

Lindsey raised an eyebrow. "Right. You're still sick from your little outburst and getting more and more tired every moment."

"I'll take another nap; I'll be fine."

"Naps don't cut it, baby. You need to go home and sleep in your own bed. I need you to get better if I'm going to get better, you know that. You're the one with the stronger energy; if you're weak how am I going to get stronger?"

"Wesley, he's got a point. You can't kill yourself just so you can stay near him."

"Bugger off, Angel," Wesley said petulantly. "Lindsey, I . .."

"Go. I'm serious. I want to be alone tonight anyway."

Wesley's face crumpled. "But it's our anniversary."

Lindsey closed his eyes for a moment, then pulled Wesley to him. After kissing his partner thoroughly, he pulled back an inch and said, "I am not celebrating an anniversary every month. This is just two months, right? It's too soon. If we celebrate every month for the rest of our lives, it'll just get ridiculous."

"But . . ."

"Baby, I promise you there will be many years ahead of us, I swear. There isn't any need to do a two month."

Angel felt like he should turn away to give the two men some privacy, but he didn't. He just gazed at them, two of his best friends, both very weak and ill, both too close to death for comfort.

The Prophet's eyes were sure and steady, gazing into his true love's. "Just go home, get some sleep, and dream of me. Dream of us on our golden anniversary, dancing and laughing, with our friends around us. We'll get there, I swear."

"If you're certain."

They kissed again. "I promise you, baby, it's going to happen. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course. I love you."

"I love you too. Angel?"

The vampire walked over and ran his hand through Lindsey's mussed hair. "You rest too, got it? When we come back tomorrow, I want your eyes bright and you strong enough to . . .to . .."

"Tear the ears of a Gundark," Wesley supplied.

Angel shot him a look. "You watch that movie too much."

"Just when Lindsey's gone." The sorcerer smiled. "It keeps me company."

Lindsey crossed his arm, pouting. "Stupid Luke Skywalker with his stupid hand and his stupid pretty eyes. You think he's cute, admit it."

"Not as cute as you." He kissed Lindsey, then said, "Maybe it is time to go. I'm suddenly quite tired." His smile turned mischievous.

"Angel, make him watch Indiana Jones."

"I've been trying, but he blushes so much whenever Indy pulls out the whip that it makes me laugh. He won't let me put it on anymore."

A nurse stuck her head in. "I'm sorry, Wesley, Angel, but you really have to leave now. Visiting hours are over."

Wesley sighed. "Thank you, Jenny." He looked at Lindsey again, kissed him, then pulled back. "Sleep tight, my love."

"You too. I'll be out soon and then we'll be on the trail for the . ."

"Don't say it," Angel interrupted, his voice murderous. "If I have to hear your stupid grail rhyme one more time, I'll tear the ears off something and it won't be a Gundark. Let's go.'

As they left, Lindsey sung off key to a made up tune, "On the trail, for the grail that's where me and Wes will goOOoo."

Angel groaned.

* * *

Three nights later, Cordelia went into labor. After seven hours of labor, in which Anne's poor hands were bruised and Angel's ear drums almost popped from her yelling, she gave birth to a healthy, baby girl.

Anne stood next to Cordelia, watching the new mother cradle her baby. They were both tired but happy.

"What are you going to name her?" the blond asked, her hand on Cordelia's shoulder.

"Kimberly. Kimberly Gunn Chase," the proud mother answered. She kissed the baby's soft, dark hair tenderly. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Just like her mom."

Cordelia looked up at Anne. "Thank you for being with me."

"You're my best friend, Cordy; of course, I'd be with you." Anne kissed her forehead. "I'm so happy for you. Little Kimberly. Do you want me to get the others?"

"Yes."

A few moments later, the rest of the group filed in. "Everyone," Cordelia said, sitting up, "Meet Kimberly." Then, as all of them admired the baby, she realized something. "Giles? Would you like to hold her?"

The Watcher looked surprised at the honor; of course, he couldn't actually see the child, but he was getting used to that. The offer obviously moved him.

"Yes, thank you."

Cordelia watched Giles's face change as he held the baby. Willow was hovering at his shoulder, gazing down, her hand resting on his back. They looked . . .domestic. Almost like she imagined she and Gunn would have looked. For a moment her throat closed, but she pushed past it.

A hand took hers. She glanced up. Angel was sitting on the bed, tears in his eyes. Cordelia could tell he was thinking the same as she was. Leaning against him, she gazed first her family around the baby, then at Anne.

She loved Anne, she knew that. The blond was her best friend, funny, smart, tough, and reliable. She was also beautiful; Cordelia had always been attracted to her. But, as Wesley had so long ago discovered, there was a difference between loving and being in love. Cordelia didn't know which it was that she was in.

Then, directing her gaze back to her beautiful baby, she decided that right now, she didn't really care.

A short time later, Wesley sat in the waiting room with Giles, obviously itching to go to Lindsey. Giles had been assigned the job of keeping him in the maternity ward until the rest were done and it was time to go home.

"So," the sorcerer finally said, breaking the silence, "are we going to tell her now, or wait until she comes home?"

Giles sighed and rubbed his eyes in an old, familiar gesture. "I think we should wait," he replied, slipping his sunglasses back on. "There is no need to upset her while she's here, and it's not like we can do anything about it now. What I want to know is why? I mean, Kimberly is just an infant."

"It is unusual. I can't remember off hand if it's ever happened before. I wish the Oracles were back so we could consult them. I suppose, we could go to the temple and find out what the Powers were thinking, but I doubt Angel will take me there right now."

"I'll have Willow start going through the diaries, if you can spare her from grail research. Maybe she can find something there. I wish there were some way I could help but not being able to see to read really puts a damper on things."

"I know it must." Wesley looked at his friend sympathetically for a moment then said, "This should be interesting. A blind Watcher and an infant Slayer. What will happen next?"

*****
Part 13:

Angel knocked softly on Wesley's door softly. When he received no answer, he went in. The Sorcerer was having a hard time staying awake lately and often fell asleep in the oddest places. A few days before, Angel had gone into the kitchen to find Wesley leaning against the wall, snoring lightly. A few days before that, a large bruise had appeared on the side of Wesley's face; after being pressed, Wesley had admitted he had drifted off while showering and hit the side of the tub as he fell.

It was like the months after he had destroyed Wolfram and Hart all over again. So exhausted from expending too much power, Wesley barely had the energy to do even the smallest tasks. What was most frustrating was that Wesley knew how to control his power these days, he had just lost control. That little accident had hurt him, not as badly as after destroying the firm, but it had weakened him enough to cause concern. The hospital staff had pulled an extra bed into Lindsey's room for Wesley's frequent cat naps, although more often than not, Wesley fell asleep in a chair, head pillowed on Lindsey's bed. Unlike the last time, however, the sorcerer was growing stronger faster, although something - most likely Lindsey - was holding him back.

Wesley was sprawled across his desk, eyes shut tight. Angel lifted him gently and carried him to the bed. After tucking him in, the vampire returned to the desk to shut off the light, when what Wesley had been looking at caught his eye. It was not, as Angel had thought, Grail research, but newspaper ads. He read over a few, then glance speculatively at Wesley before shutting the light and going to his own room.

"Xander? What's the matter?"

The mortal looked up and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "I was reading Liz's last issue," he said, holding up the copy of "Underworld Desire's" to show his lover.

"Ah." As a therapeutic way to help him with Buffy's death, Xander had killed off her character in his series of stories. Angel had tried to tell him that he didn't need to, that Buffy could live on through Liz indefinitely, but Xander had been firm. "You ok?" Angel draped himself across the bed, gazing at Xander.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." He closed the magazine and put it on the night-table. Reaching out to play with Angel's hair, he asked, "So, how's Wesley? Tuck him in all safe and sound?"

Angel nodded distractedly. "Why do you think he's looking at ads for apartments?"

Xander's eyebrows raised. "They were serious?"

"What?"

"In Hawaii I heard Lindsey talking to Wesley a couple times about them moving into their own place. Most of it was kind of, well, dirty talk, like what they would do in such and such room, so I thought it was a game. But maybe they really do want to move away."

The vampire sat up. "Why? There's room here, there's family here. Why would they want to move."

"Because there isn't just family here, there's a lot of family here. Let's face it, the Hyperion isn't exactly the most private place in the world. Maybe they just want their space."

"I don't like it. I don't want them to move away. It'd be weird."

Xander put his hand on his lover's knee. "I don't think Wesley really wants to move away either, at least not far. He sounded a bit upset when he thought Lindsey was getting too serious. But I do think that he wants to have a house or something; a place that would be just his and Lindsey's."

Angel was silent for a moment, brooding.

"Deadboy? What are you thinking?"

"You know, the back property extends almost a mile," he said.

"Yeah."

"Out past the pool there's that big field that we've never done anything with."

"Once again, yeah. What's your point?"

"Do you think that would be private enough?"

"Making them live in a big empty field? Dunno. I suppose it depends on your definition of privacy."

The vampire lightly cuffed his lover on the head. "No. What if we built them a house out at the edge of the property? Far enough away not to be around us all the time, but close enough so if anything happened, they'd be right there. Do you think they'd go for it?"

Xander grinned. "I think that if we built them something, they would have to go for it. It'd be pretty rude not to. Let's do it. I can help design the plans, we'll find a builder, set them up. Wesley and Lindsey will have a little love nest all their own."

"Good Except for the love nest part; that sounds stupid. Now, come here."

"Why? Oh," Xander said as he quickly got his lovers point. "Got it."

* * *

"Cordelia, we have to tell you something about your child," Giles said gently.

"Oh, God, I knew it!" she exclaimed, her hold on the baby growing noticeably tighter. "She's demon spawn isn't she? Or the official sacrifice for the next Summer Olympics? Or . . .or her blood will end all life on earth if spilled under a full moon while . . ."

"She's the Slayer," interrupted Wesley.

Cordelia's eyes widened and she looked from man to man, searching for signs of amusement. "The Slayer? No. I mean, she's a baby, not a teenager. Buffy was a teen; Kendra was a teen; Faith was a teen. Kim is a baby." She caressed her child's head, then looked back up. "Why? I mean, infant. She can't even walk."

Giles shrugged. "We don't know why. All we know is that she is the Chosen One."

"Well, how do you know?"

"Same way we always know. She has the mark . .."

"You mean that pretty looking butterfly on her back?"

Wesley closed his eyes. "No, not that mark. The mark under it that looks like a "VS." Buffy had one too. And, besides, Watcher's are trained to see the energy around a slayer."

Cordelia sighed and sat, gazing at her baby's face. "I had hoped that she would have a chance at a normal life. What's going to happen?"

Giles sat next to her. "We will train her while she is young so she learns to control her strength. It wouldn't do to have it out of her control. But as for actual slaying, I am not prepared to send a child out, at least not a very young child. Until we all deem she is old enough, and you will have a say in this Cordelia, I see no reason that she cannot live a relatively normal life."

"I was hoping a Slayer would show up in the form of a complete stranger, not my daughter." Cordelia sighed and kissed Kimberly on the forehead. "You promise that you won't do anything behind my back?"

"We promise," Giles answered solemnly. "Times have changed. The old Watcher's Council has been destroyed. I don't even know where most of the Watchers who survived the war have gone. Wesley and I will take on the responsibility of training her, with Angel and hopefully Graham when he returns. Like Buffy, Kimberly will have her family to help her survive."

"Good." Cordelia sighed again. "Kimberly the Vampire Slayer. Has an interesting ring to it."

Spike walked in just then. "Kimmy is the Slayer?"

"Kimmy?" the mother repeated.

He stared at the baby for a moment, a speculative and sad look in his eyes.

Wesley and Cordelia exchanged glances; the last thing they wanted was to send Spike back into a depression over Buffy. It had been bad enough the first time through.

He walked over and touched Kimmy gently. "Yeah.. S'got a pretty ring to it. Kimmy the Vampire Slayer. Can I hold her?"

Cordelia handed Spike the baby. He held her tenderly, gazing into her face, love and adoration evident in the blue eyes. "Hello, little one. I'm your Uncle Spike and we are going to have a lot of fun." He kissed her forehead. "I'll make you the best fighter ever and you will be my girl, got it?"

The other three adults exchanged amused looks. Spike looked very serious and very enchanted.

The baby cooed and reached out to grab Spike's finger as he ran it down her face. He grinned. "That's my girl. Hold on tight, little Kimmy. You're going to be the best slayer ever."

*****
Part 14:

Xander was sitting at the lobby desk, typing when Angel came behind him, engulfing him in his strong arms.

"Have I ever mentioned how irresistible you are when you're writing?" the vampire asked, peppering Xander's neck with kisses.

Xander leaned into the embrace, baring his neck further. "Maybe once or twice.'

Undoing a few buttons on Xander's shirt so he could run his hands over the warm, smooth skin, he asked, "Anything important happening in the world?"

"Actually, yes. A group of people attacked some vampires at a demon bar last night; five humans were killed, no idea about the vamps. It was an unprovoked attack; the people just walked in and started staking." His tone was disapproving.

"We are talking vampires, Xan."

The mortal sighed. "Yes, I know, but it just seems cold blooded. And stupid. I mean, after the war, we told everyone not to go vampire hunting. Lin and Wes did those commercial spots to get the message out. We gave numbers and locations of legitimate places to train. Why don't they get that?"

"Fear. People fear what they don't understand so they ignore it. When they are confronted with what they fear, they try to kill it. It's an old story." He nuzzled Xander, lovingly. "So, was it our friends in the True Way, or the Anti-Vampire League of Humans?" Angel asked, his hand still stroking Xander's skin under the shirt.

"Neither group is claiming any connection, but my money is on the second. True Way seems more concerned with getting rid of all demons and witches, starting with our boys." Lindsey and Wesley were coming to be known as 'our boys.' "Besides, the main branch of the AVLH is here in L.A."

Angel sighed. "I understand what they want to do, but they're endangering themselves. The more of them that get killed, the more people are going to get scared and the more people are going to go hunt." He bit his lover's ear gently. "I think I may see if Raoul and his team want to go patrol tonight; it's been a bit since I've gone with them. I'll ask Spike too, but I doubt I'll be able to get him away from Riley."

Xander, becoming more demanding as he became more and more aroused, arched up to Angel. "I think," he said kissing the vampire, "Riley is having trouble at work. That's why Spike's been so over attentive lately."

"And the problems he's having with his health." Angel pulled Xander up and sat him on the desk, pulling the shirt off the mortal.

"Spike's cure for everything is a lot of sex, which Riley doesn't seem to mind. I, of course, am thrilled because it keeps him away from the plans for our boys' surprise."

"How's that coming?"

"I'm almost done; I have a meeting with the architect tonight to go over the plans again. If he says they are workable, we'll be ready to find a builder. But, you know, speaking of sex, how about it?"

Eyes burning with lust, the vampire reached for Xander's belt as he laid his mortal on his back. No one was home, no one would care if he took Xander in the middle of the lobby. Besides, it was Angel's house; he could do what he wanted.

He yanked off his lover's pants, dropped them on the floor, then draped himself on top of Xander, mouth all over. Xander was breathing heavily, his hands fumbling with Angel's clothing, tongue tracing intricate patterns on Angel's skin, causing the vampire's brain to kick into overload.

So wrapped up in the pleasurable sensations, Angel didn't hear the door open. In fact, he didn't even realize there was anyone in the building until a soft voice said, "Excuse me. I have come to heal the Prophet."

"Fuck!" Xander squeaked, sliding down the counter, while frantically grabbing for his clothing.

Angel stared in disbelief at the woman standing serenely in the lobby. Dressed in some sort of traditional robes, her skin dark and smooth, hands clasped in front of her, she had the aura of a queen in perpetual waiting. Every pore radiated patience, as well as amusement tinged with sensuality.

She gazed at Angel through calm eyes, almost otherworldly in her presence.

The vampire glanced down at his lover, who was fastening his belt, face an enticing shade of pink. Angel raised a questioning eyebrow; Xander shrugged in return.

"Um, can you repeat that?" Angel asked, feeling intelligent.

"I have come to heal the Prophet," she said again in a musically accented voice.

"Heal him." The statement had a questioning and incredulous tone to it.

"Yes. I am a healer. I use the power of the earth in such a way to heal the body of injured and sick people." She was unfazed by Angel's obvious skepticism, never batting an eye.

He walked to her, as Xander rose, fully dressed. "Why now? Lindsey was injured almost four months ago."

She shrugged. "He is important, yes, but there were more pressing matters closer to home I had to attend to. Once those were completed I attained enough money to come here. I understand that I, as well as the world, owe Mr. Whyndam-Price and his consort a great deal. My talents are humble, but I wish to do my part."

"Ok, but if it were that simple, why can't Wesley do it?" Xander asked. "I mean, he draws his power from the earth too, right?"

She inclined her head. "He is not a healer. He is a sorcerer. He has been trained to use his powers in a different way. It all comes from the same source, it is how a person is used to using the power and where their talents lie that direct what they can and cannot do." She narrowed her eyes slightly, then said, "You do not wish my help."

"No, we didn't say that," Angel responded. "We're just . . .surprised."

"Suspicious. I do not blame you, you must be careful. There are many, both human and demon, who would wish harm to them both." She paused, then said, "You care a great deal for them, Warrior. That is admirable. I assure you I mean no harm. I only wish to help."

"What's your name?" Xander wanted to know.

"Induna."

Angel nodded and glanced at Xander. His lover shrugged helplessly. Taking a deep and unneeded breath, Angel made his decision. "I want Wesley to meet you first. I want to know what he thinks. Please accept our hospitality until we decide what to do."

She bowed slightly, her deep brown eyes amused. "Thank you. I accept."

* * *

A few days later, under heavy protestation from the doctors, Induna performed her healing magic on Lindsey. Burning incense in a darkened room, stones placed at various points on Lindsey's naked body, she chanted over him, touching him with her smooth, care worn hands.

The Prophet felt himself relax and melt into a giant puddle. Drawn deep into his body by her power, he could ^^feel^^ her repairing the damaged tissue and leading him back to health. In fact, he could almost see the areas himself. There were the parts of his body obscured with dark foreboding patches. She led him through the patches, giving him strength, touching each place gently with her magic, knitting the tears and wounds together. Each place she ^^touched^^ was left feeling reborn and healthy. Lindsey could feel the difference, feel himself growing a bit stronger with each touch.

As she worked her magic, Induna tapped into the bond between him and Wesley. She ran her own energy over it, feeding bits of herself into Lindsey and into Wesley, giving them both strength. It felt like mere minutes to him, but in actuality, it took Induna three hours to repair all the damage and make him whole once more.

When she was done, the doctor examined him. Lindsey wanted to laugh at the look on his face.

"But, I don't understand."

Grinning, he glanced at his partner and his healer. "If you're going to believe in Wesley's powers and my connections, Doctor, then you have to believe in miracles."

He was released that day.

"It was really no miracle, Prophet," Induna said in the car. "It was simple healing, drawing on the magic of the earth."

"It was to me. I thought I was never going to get better. Thank you."

She smiled softly. "You are most welcome. I must warn you, though, you and your consort will still be weak for awhile. I repaired the damage and gave you some strength, but your body is still lethargic. You, Sorcerer, will grow stronger faster because of your connections; the stronger you grow, the stronger he will grow. Your bond makes you reliant on one another in many ways."

"Yes, I know. Thank you," Wesley replied, reaching for Lindsey's hand, his eyes glowing and with happiness.

"You are welcome. Your bond is very unique; I am sorry I will not have the chance to study if further."

"Why can't you?" Lindsey asked.

"I must leave at sunset. My work here is complete."

Wesley looked confused. "But, surely you can stay for a bit longer. There are things you could teach me, things I want to know."

"No, Sorcerer. Our talents are different and I feel the call of someone else who needs me."

"Is there any way we can thank you?"

The mysterious smile returned, and she shook her head. "Seeing you well is reward enough."

They pulled up in front of the Hyperion. After climbing out of the car, Induna turned to face Wesley. "I hear you seek the Grail."

"Yes."

"I do not know much about it, but I will tell you this: it is changeable and not what you may think it is. The Grail itself is formless and seeks."

"What does it seek?"

She shrugged. "The one worthy to posses it. The Grail knows who it wants and has for all ages. With every incarnation, it changes form and becomes something new."

"How will I know what it is when I find it?"

"Faith." Induna bowed. "Farewell." Then she turned and left.

*****
Part 15:

Azazel sat in the back of the bar. In front of him was an untouched glass of wine. He was dressed in black, draped casually in a chair, one hand tapping restlessly on his knee and the other toying with an unlit cigarette. To anyone not paying attention, he gave off the impression of casual indifference and easy grace. It was only if you were playing close attention that you could see his eyes obsessively returning to the door every few minutes and the anxiety in his posture.

Finally the figure he was waiting for appeared. She walked through the bar easily, eyes on Azazel, not paying attention to anyone around her.

"Well?" Azazel asked as she stopped in front of his table.

She sat before she answered, that damn smile on her face as it always was. "It is done," Induna said. "The Prophet is healed."

"And Wesley?"

"He will recover. He was badly exhausted from whatever he did to himself. The Prophet was holding him back from healing properly, but now the Sorcerer will be fine.

Azazel's eyes lit up. "Good. Great. So, what do I owe you?" He took a sip of his wine.

"Six point five million in hard currency."

He coughed politely. "Excuse me?"

Induna gazed at him through serene eyes, not saying anything.

"Christ, six point five? No; four point five."

"Six and I will tell you a secret about the seer's child."

"What, that she's the slayer? Already know that, sweetheart. Cordelia Chases's little bundle of joy is a lean, mean, vampire killing machine; already got the memo." He took a breath, then said, "Five."

"Five point five and I will not tell the vampire that you tried to seduce the Sorcerer."

"How did you know that?"

"The Prophet knows."

"Really? So dear old Wesley did tell him, isn't that sweet? Ok, five point five and you tell me how the Prophet feels about me trying to seduce him. And I want details."

She raised one eyebrow, then said, "Very well." A bag appeared at her feet. "Five point five, hard currency, as promised. Tell, tell." He bounced in his seat a bit, leaning forward.

Induna studied the bag for a moment, then looked up. "He is jealous, and worried. It is the Prophet's greatest fear to lose the sorcerer to you. He is afraid that the sorcerer will chose to become an Immortal and leave him, or that you will prove to be too attractive a being and seduce him away. It is not necessarily the sorcerer's love and fidelity he does not trust, but you. He has no illusions about what you could do if you put your mind to it. To him the sorcerer is his greatest treasure, but one he is not sure he deserves to possess. On day, his love might realize that and leave him for someone new and less mortal.."

Azazel sat back, lifting the cigarette to his mouth. Despite the rather large no smoking sign in front of him, he lit it and took a long drag. "I like the Prophet, really. Do you want to know why?"

"I personally could care less; it does not affect me in the least."

"I like him because he thinks like me," the demon said airily, not listening to Induna. "He has the propensity to be really evil; he actually was on the right track for a bit. I thought for awhile that he would move up into the upper echelons of Wolfram and Hart and that I would offer him a place in my new world. But he turned on me. Because of Wesley."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." He took a meditative puff. "Well, that's why he stayed against me, at any rate. Unless there is something you are not telling me." His keen blue eyes pinned the healer.

She shrugged. "I looked for what you asked me to, but I cannot confirm if your suspicions are correct or not."

"Can you really not confirm or will you just not confirm?"

"I do not want to give anyone too much information. This is not my quest; it is yours and theirs. And no amount of money will make me tell you." She rose smoothly. "I must go."

Azazel rose as well, pouting. "I hate beings with no loyalty or morality; you're all so fucking frustrating. Thank you for your services, Induna, they have been most appreciated and most useful."

She bowed slightly. "I wish you no luck on your quest, Azazel, as I wished them no luck. I do not have a stake in this, so I do not particularly care if you get your desire or they do theirs. I will only give you what I gave them: farewell."

The demon fought the urge to roll his eyes, and responded, "Farewell," as he watched her go.

* * *

At a nearby table, a man finished his drink. He rose, feeling excited. Finally he had found what he needed, after months of searching. Finally, he would have the tool he needed to fight the war. The only thing to do was attain the key.

*****