"She's pregnant?" Xander screamed.

"Xander," Wesley murmured. "Shh."

Gunn just stared at Cordelia. /Pregnant?/ How the hell. The cave. "Holy fuck."

Cordelia flopped bonelessly against Wil. "Oz?" She whimpered. "I want my alpha!" She cried, her eyes tearing. Oz stood quickly and reached for the distraught werewolf. As soon as Angel released her she launched at the man, rolling both of them on the ground. Oz held her tightly, watching Gunn as he comforted Cordelia. The young werewolf looked shell-shocked.

Wil and Angel backed out of the kitchen, into the hallway. All of this was more than they could handle. As they left, they snagged Xander and Wesley. "Come on," Wil whispered to the two men.

"What?" Xander asked distractedly. "She's pregnant!" He repeated.

"It's a pack thing," Will hissed. Wesley nodded and retreated with the vampires.

"Wil's right, Xander. You can ask questions later." The four men went back to the computer room, both to give the werewolves some privacy and to take some time to themselves. When they got there, Xander immediately turned around and went to the back door.

"I'm going out to the barn, ok?" He stated.

Wil and Angel glanced at Wesley. "Perhaps we should go up to our room," Wil suggested. Wesley nodded and sat down at a computer.

"I need to do something with my hands right now," He murmured, giving them permission to leave him alone.

...

Gunn felt Fred sit down next to him, but he didn't acknowledge her. His Delia was pregnant.

Pregnant.

He was going to be a father.

The werewolf shook his head slowly. This was not happening. Yeah, he and Cordelia had discussed children, in a very abstract way. She knew she'd want them eventually, some day in the distant future when they weren't hiding and fighting all the time. Some day when they weren't both young almost-adults with stakes in their back pockets and visions of Armageddon in their heads.

Well, at least they weren't that young anymore.

But children? Their world was no place for a child. Connor had been proof enough of that. Gunn shuddered at the memories of Angel's young son, dead, sacrificed as a pawn in some insane vengeance plot. How were they supposed to protect a child, an infant?

While Gunn was frightening himself into a panic attack, Oz was trying to calm Cordelia down. The seer had shifted from a hormone-driven, violent insanity to a hormone-driven, irrational anxiety. She was quivering and shaking, crying into his shoulder about how she wasn't ready to be a mother, how she couldn't believe this was happening, and where were they going to put a crib in this place? Was labor going to hurt? Who was going to help her burp the damned thing at two in the morning? Then she remembered that Gunn hadn't wanted kids, at least not yet. He didn't like the idea of kids when they were living such dangerous lives. How was she going to make it up to him? Would he ever forgive her?

"Gunn?" Fred murmured, placing one gentle hand on his shoulder. "Gunn?"

"Yeah?" Gunn replied absently.

"How's Cordelia doing?" Fred inquired. Perhaps he'd actually look at his lover now.

Her question did the trick; Gunn came back to life and looked down at Cordelia. "Delia?" He murmured. "Come here, baby." He reached for the werewolf, who moved cautiously into his arms.

"I'm sorry," She chanted, burying herself in his arms. "I didn't think, I didn't know. I know you don't want it. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Shh," Gunn whispered. "Don't say that, Delia. How can I not want it?"

She looked up at him, obviously surprised. "You said you didn't want."

"No, it's not a very good time," He admitted tentatively. "That doesn't mean I never want kids. I."

"You don't want me to get rid of it." She began when his voice trailed off. His expression alone answered her question.

"NO!" He growled. "Never! This is our kid, there's no getting rid of it involved," He insisted. "Don't even think about it, Delia. It's not going to happen."

"Wouldn't anyway," Oz murmured from his spot on the floor. "Not a good idea for werewolves."

Cordelia glanced at Oz. "Oh yeah, not human anymore. Is this gonna be a bad thing?" She asked. "More than it is already, I mean?"

Oz thought for a few minutes. "There's a lot to think about. It's not inherently dangerous."

"But there aren't a lot of werewolf ob/gyn's around here, are there?" Fred asked quietly.

Oz shook his head. "No. Most take care of it themselves."

"No doctor?" Cordelia whispered. "That's not safe!"

"What would they tell you?" Fred inquired. "You're not human."

Cordelia nodded. "I'm sorry. I wish I'd." Gunn held her tighter, rocking slightly.

"Nobody's mad at you, Delia. And this is as much my fault as it is yours," He said.

"They're gonna be mad," Cordelia insisted. "This messes up everything. Everything! How are we supposed to bring down Wolfram & Hart with baby formula on our shirts?"

"We aren't mad," Fred reminded her. "Yes, it'll be hard, but what isn't? You're going to have the most spoiled child in the world," She assured Cordelia. "Who in this house isn't nuts about kids? Or have you forgotten." She paused before mentioning Connor.

"Exactly," Cordelia cried. "They're going to think about him and-"

"Be happy you've got a kid," Gunn finished. "Do you really think Angel or the others will begrudge you a child?"

Cordelia shrugged. "But he lost his," She murmured.

"All the more reason to love yours," Fred whispered. "Not everyone who can't have children hates those who can, or their offspring," She reminded Cordelia. The seer blanched, remembering that Wesley and Fred would never have children of their own-not without help, at least.

"It's going to be ok," Gunn whispered. "It has to be, because no kid of mine is going to not be ok."

Oz nodded.

...

Wil led Angel upstairs slowly, making sure the numb vampire didn't trip on anything. The older man was sort of staring off into space, obviously thinking about Connor. After all, what else would be filling his mind at this time? "Angel," Wil whispered, pulling his lover into their room. "Please, talk to me."

"They'll have a beautiful child," Angel said brokenly. "Tiny, perfect baby."

Wil shuddered and pulled Angel close. "They didn't plan it."

Angel glanced at his pale lover. "I'm not angry, Wil. I know they didn't mean for this to happen. And I'm happy for them-very happy. Cordelia's wanted a child for a long time, longer than she realizes. It's just that."

"I know," Wil murmured. "I loved him every bit as much as you did."

"You were his father," Angel insisted. "Just as I was." The two men had considered Connor theirs from the moment of his birth, although Angel often forgot Wil's part in his son's life when he sunk into his grief. "This will be very difficult."

"It seems impossible," Wil replied. He could envision hundreds of worst-case-scenarios. They had no choice but to continue their mission to destroy Wolfram & Hart, but now they would have to protect a child at the same time. A baby was just another target for the firm. Even with the time involved in their plans, Cordelia's baby would still be a small child when it came time to return to Los Angeles.

Angel gathered Wil close. "Do you think we should. move the time frame?" Angel asked softly. "Just a little?"

Wil shrugged against Angel's chest. "I'm not sure," He replied. "We'll have to see. If she stays this. unstable for the duration, yes."

Angel chuckled. "She did seem a bit out of control today."

Wil snorted. "She made Darla look like Oz." Angel laughed outright at the comparison.

Eventually he sobered. "How will Gunn take it?"

"He loves children," Wil reminded Angel. "And I think that once he gets over his shock, he'll be an excellent father."

"He has to marry her," Angel insisted. "Soon. Now."

Wil leaned back to study his lover. "Playing the protective father all of a sudden?"

Angel glared at Wil. "He. Will. Marry. Her."

"And what if she doesn't want to get married?" Wil asked, playing the devil's advocate.

"The she should've thought about that before we went camping," Angel shot back. "Because it's a bit late now."

"Old fashioned, are we?" Wil murmured.

"I'm more than 250 years old," Angel reminded Wil. "And for that matter, you should be on my side in this." After all, Wil had been brought up in Victorian England.

"Oh, I am," He assured the dark vampire. "But I believe that they would rather us leave such things in their hands."

"They'll put it off," Angel swore.

""S not like they can make it legal," Wil muttered.

"They're both legally dead," Angel countered. "Who cares?"

"Where are we going to find someone to not-legally-marry a couple of werewolves?" Wil asked.

"The internet?" Angel offered. For that remark he got a sharp rap to the head.

"I'd like to be there when you suggest that," Wil muttered. "With body armor on, of course."

"You have no faith in me," Angel whined.

"I have enormous faith in you," Wil protested. "Including a great deal of faith in your ability to get on Cordelia's bad side."

"I've never been on her bad side!" Angel said vehemently.

"Right," Wil murmured, running a hand through Angel's hair and over one earring. "I believe that."

...

Xander climbed up the rickety ladder to the hayloft, heading straight for his favorite bale of straw. He needed time alone-not just in another room, but really alone. His blocking abilities were such that he could've easily kept out all the roiling emotions in the house, but he desperately needed to be able to let go. When he was blocking that much, he didn't have a lot of freedom to think about his own emotions.

Cordelia was pregnant. His ex-girlfriend and werewolf seer was pregnant. Knocked up. Stuffed full, with child, had a bun in the oven, one in the pot, preggers, was breeding, in the family way, gravid, expecting, parturient, gestating, increasing, up the duff. The rabbit died. Cordelia Chase was having a baby.

Xander leaned over suddenly and threw up.

After a moment, he recovered and sat back, none the worse for wear-besides the less-than-pleasant aftertaste of his stomach's contents, which was mostly bile.

He was excited. Cordelia would make a great mother-she already had the take-care-of-people, nurturing thing down. Beneath the now-thin veneer of spoiled, greedy valley girl was a strong, smart woman who knew how to take care of herself. Any kid of hers would be a force to be reckoned with. And Gunn wasn't anything to sniff at; he had morals and values as steady and deep as the mountains they lived in.

Xander was also scared out of his mind. How were they going to protect a kid? What happened when Wolfram & Hart took a shot at it? He wasn't sure this group could handle the loss of another child. While it seemed like Angel, and Wil, had born the brunt of Connor's death, the truth was that everyone suffered. Many a long night was spent crying over the babe's death. Who wouldn't? It had been tragic and wrong and violent and stupid. And Xander didn't want to see it happen again.

"Why us? Why her? Do you have something against us being happy?" Xander shouted at the roof, aiming for The Powers That Be. "I mean, a kid? Now? That's like directing a vanload of nuns to attend a Church of Satan meeting. Stupid and pointless and way below you."

Xander paused, wondering if his bosses would send a really nasty vision to get back at him for being so nasty to them. Fortunately, they didn't. "You've got to torture someone with having to worry about another life, so you pick Cordelia. You know she can't stand loss like that!" Xander raged up at the sky, suddenly hating The Powers. "She cries when she loses a shoe. What's gonna happen when some demon bites the kid's head off, or kidnaps it?"

The sky was silent, as was the barn roof that blocked Xander's view of the stars. He lay there on the straw, panicking and crying and laughing and wishing that Cordelia'd remembered her rubbers and that he could have kids, and that Fred and Wesley and Angel and Wil could have them too because all of them loved kids and wanted their own and Angel had had one but had lost it because life sucked that way. The Raphe didn't remember falling asleep, but he did, dreaming of beautiful, brown-eyed babies with drop-dead gorgeous looks and acid tongues.

...

"Perhaps the bank has updated their records," Wesley murmured as he hacked into one of their target banks. He was pointedly avoiding thinking about the pack that currently inhabited the kitchen. If he did, he'd think about Fred, giving comfort to Cordelia and Gunn, sharing in and not sharing in the new life Cordelia held hidden inside her. He'd have to think about the fact that Fred was a fertile body and so was he, but together they were nothing.

Then he'd have to think about that sad look that Fred was sure to get in her eyes, even as she laughed and smiled at Cordelia's baby. Wesley didn't want to do that, didn't want to consider how he was a failure and was sterile to his lover-and-someday-wife. Fred willingly bound herself to him, knowing that theirs would never be a normal relationship. Predator and prey, hunter and hunted. No child they raised would be wholly theirs. And, unlike Xander and Oz, or even Angel and Wil, they couldn't comfort themselves in the fact that they shouldn't ever be able to have children. No, only a cruel twist of demonic genetics stood between Wesley, Fred and an elusive, happy future. There was a someday in Wesley's mind, a sometime after Wolfram & Hart were a memory, where he and Fred stood with two beautiful children between them.

It wasn't a picture he liked looking at anymore. Now that he knew those children were either his or Fred's, but not both. When he was younger, and human, he'd always derided those who wanted children with such a passion, for whom adoption wasn't good enough. They wanted children of their own loins, who looked like them not out of coincidence or for the sake of a squinted and hopeful eye, but because genetics and gametes said that that child was theirs, by the gods, and no one else's. He'd laughed and mocked.

Tonight he was not laughing.

"Ah, so they did," He told himself, opening the bank's records. He could at least be productive in some small way. Even if his comfort was cold and hard and not what he wanted.

It would have to suffice.

*****
Part 78:

"I thought they made prenatal vitamins," Cordelia said hopefully as she stared at the kitchen table. "You know, one big horse pill."

Oz and Wesley glanced at the table full of bottles. "Two things," Oz murmured. "Those take a prescription,"

"Which we could get you, but it isn't worth the effort," Wesley interjected.

"Not worth the effort?" Cordelia muttered. "Why not? Because you want to watch me choke on.fifteen different kinds of supplements?"

"You're not human," Oz continued. "Human prenatal vitamins will make you sick."

"Oh," Cordelia whispered. "So nobody makes wolfy vites for with-babies?"

"Nope," Oz replied. "It's only twenty-eight tablets a day."

"We have them organized. Here," Wesley said, holding up an impressively large tackle box. "You simply follow the chart; box one before breakfast, box two after breakfast, box three with your midmorning snack, box four before lunch, box five after lunch, box six before supper, box seven after supper and box eight just before bed, with a glass of milk."

"Uh huh," Cordelia murmured. "You guys aren't gonna do a tongue check, are you?"

"Are you going to skip your vitamins?" Wesley asked archly.

"No," She swore. "Gunn's gonna watch me take them." Her lover wasn't about to let anything hurt his babies, even Cordelia. The seer reached for her new, high-fashion accessory and carried it upstairs to her bedroom. The fact that it only contained a week's worth of vitamins scared her. Yeah, she knew she'd be gaining weight, but she wanted that to be from the babies, not from the tons of vitamins she choked down.

"Those the pills?" Xander asked as she headed up the stairs. "I really don't envy you, you know."

"I can tell," Cordelia muttered. "Have you seen Gunn?"

"Wil and Angel took him to pick up computer parts," Xander replied. "Then they're gonna stop by the grocery store and bug Fred."

"And get some papaya?" Cordelia asked. Xander pulled out a cell phone.

"They are now," He said as he dialed. If Cordelia wanted papaya, Cordelia got papaya.

...

"I can't be sorry."

Wil glanced over at Gunn, who was in the front passenger seat. "We don't expect you to be, Charles. We're not."

"You thought we'd be angry," Angel said. He leaned forward, sticking his head between the two men. "We're happy for you. Children are the most beautiful thing in the world."

"But now?" Gunn murmured. "It couldn't be much worse, not without a lot of fire and brimstone."

Wil shrugged. "So the timing is less than fortuitous. We'll adjust."

"I don't understand why you two are taking this so well," Gunn stated. "We were careless and now Cordelia's pregnant, and you two lost Connor."

"We did," Angel confirmed. "But that doesn't mean that we begrudge you your child. As for the timing, I agree with Wil. It does stink, but that is no reason to get upset."

"And think, Gunn," Wil said. "You don't have to fret about four a.m. feedings."

Gunn smiled. "You got that right. I never really thought about the advantages of vampire nannies."

"We're not going to be nannies," Angel growled. "I am not a nanny."

"He looks horrible in white frocks," Wil concurred.

"Nah," Gunn said, laughing. "You're more like sucker uncles. I know you're gonna spoil the kid rotten and teach it to coo and giggle at you guys in gameface."

Angel grinned. "What? You don't want your kid to laugh at vampires?"

"It would certainly confuse any he or she ran into," Wil murmured. "Think; some unwitting fledge thinks it's found dinner, only their prey starts laughing. Right before staking the vamp, of course," He added.

"Hah hah," Gunn muttered. "So why are we really out here? I mean, Oz is usually the one scrounging computer parts, and you two could have told me you weren't mad back at the house."

"Do you remember what Oz told you about werewolf pregnancies?" Angel inquired.

Gunn frowned. "Yeah. Uh. not all that different from human pregnancies, although she won't show quite as much. Mood swings might be a bit more pronounced, but we've already seen that. Towards the end she'll get a bit territorial."

"What about timing?" Angel pressed.

"He said it would be longer than a human pregnancy," Gunn replied. "Why?"

"Thirteen months," Wil murmured.

"Yeah, that's what he said," Gunn nodded. "Something wrong with that?"

"We're supposed to move within the year," Angel replied. "We were planning to leave in about eleven months."

Gunn let his head drop back onto the seat. "So you're saying we have to move Cordelia, when she's out to here?" He asked, holding his hand away from his belly.

"Either that or risk staying," Will said. The longer they stayed in one place, the greater risk they ran of being discovered. They'd been in Knoxville for almost two years, so it was time they started planning their next move.

"She's not gonna like that," Gunn warned. "A lot."

"We know," Angel murmured. "It won't be pretty."

The computer part shopping went well; the motherboard Oz wanted had come in. The three men headed for the grocery store, to pick on Fred and get a few things they didn't have at home.

"Fred!" Wil called out as they slid through the automatic doors. "Busy night?"

"Nope," Fred replied from behind her cash register. "So far it's been quiet."

Wil nodded and ran to catch up with the others. "Why is it that Angel and I end up doing the grocery shopping so often?" He asked Gunn. "We don't eat this stuff very often."

Gunn shrugged. "Xander would feed us nothing but junk food, Oz wouldn't get past the steak and granola, Wesley has the oddest tastes I've ever seen, Cordelia does not buy groceries, and Fred works here. We don't want to torture her with buying food too."

By the time they got to the register, the cart was full of things the three men thought Cordelia ought to be eating. They watched in surprise as Fred added several papayas. "Xander called. She wants them," The woman explained. "As soon as possible; she's growling."

"Right," Wil said, waving Angel forward. The dark vampire paid for their food and the three men quickly returned to the car. They did not want to be on the receiving end of one of Cordelia's mood swings. She got.violent.

...

"Papaya," Cordelia moaned, digging into the fruit.

"At least she isn't eating it with anything weird this time," Xander commented. The seer werewolf was feasting on fresh papaya, doused in honey and topped with cinnamon granola. It wasn't Xander's favorite way of eating the fruit.or anyone else in the house's, but it wasn't outright nauseating. Lately Cordelia had been doing some damned strange things to food, like eating cold cereal with chicken broth instead of milk. It was enough that Xander had changed his eating habits. Now the Raphe took his meals outside, in his bedroom, or anywhere else that Cordelia wasn't inhabiting. She nearly put him off chocolate when she used it to flavor sauerkraut.

"It'll pass," Oz assured his lover.

"Uh huh," Xander grunted. "Well, we'd better install that motherboard. We're holding up the research." He and Oz left for the computer room, where Oz began to install the motherboard while Xander worked on rewiring Gunn's stereo. "What do you think it'll be?" He asked Oz once both men were buried up their elbows in electronics.

"What?" Oz murmured.

"The baby. What's it gonna be?" Xander repeated.

"Werewolf," Oz stated. "Babies of werewolves are always werewolves."

"Smartass, I meant will it be a boy or a girl?" Xander replied.

Oz shrugged. "Dunno, girl?"

"You're no fun," Xander mumbled. Then something occurred to him. "So this is gonna be a werewolf baby. Will it wolf on full moons?"

Oz nodded. "Yup, from the very first one. Remember how I got turned?"

"But that kid was in human baby form," Xander recalled.

"He wolfed too," Oz stated. "But cubs are fun," He continued. "Easy to keep up with."

"Easy? As in, stays in the crib, easy, or looks like a puppy so we can put it on a leash, easy?" Xander asked.

Oz growled. "Looks like a puppy, keep the leash away, easy." Nobody was going to leash a wolf, even a cub, in his pack.

"Chill, Oz, I was just kiddin'," Xander muttered. "Nobody's gonna do anything to hurt her cub/baby/thingy. By the way, what is the right word for it?"

"Depends. A lot of werewolves call them kids or children, just to keep from having to answer questions. But the technical term is cub," Oz replied. "Haven't asked Cordelia which she prefers."

"Could you hand me the needle-nosed pliers?" Xander asked. "I'll be she goes cub. Nobody around to ask uncomfortable questions."

...

The next 'family' dinner was a cautious affair. Two weeks had passed since Cordelia's breakdown in the kitchen and this was the first time they'd all tried to actually sit down together for a formal meal. In honor of the occasion, candles were lit, wine was uncorked.and juice for Cordelia, and someone had even ironed the tablecloth.

"Who cooked?" Xander asked as he pulled out Oz's chair. "It smells great."

"Cordelia and I," Fred murmured. "Don't make one crack, Xander, or I'll chase you down myself."

Xander gulped. "Like I said, smells great."

"Stop bitching," Cordelia said as she walked into the room. "I'm over that weird food stage. No more nasty onion jell-o."

"Good to hear," Xander choked out. He remembered the onion jell-o a bit too well. He glanced over at Wes, who also had a bit of a green tint to his face. "Where are Angel and Wil?"

"Right here," Angel said as he stepped up to the foot of the table. Wil moved around to the other side, taking his place at the head. "Xander, don't make crude remarks about Cordelia."

"I wasn't!" Xander denied. "Really, I wasn't. The food looks wonderful."

"And it didn't before?" Cordelia asked calmly.

Xander bit his lip and refused to say a word. He was not going to get beaten up tonight. He wasn't. Absolutely not.

Cordelia grinned. "We're just giving you a hard time, Xan."

"I know," He murmured. "Can we eat now?"

Food was passed around the table, compliments were given, and the entire group was generally quite cheerful. It was hard to be gloomy with the quantities of wine and food they were consuming, in honor of a peaceful house, a successful month trying to defeat Wolfram & Hart, and a generally good atmosphere.

"So what are you going to name the cub?" Xander asked Cordelia. He'd been wanting to ask for a week now, but never could get up the courage.

Cordelia grinned. "Sebastian."

"Uh uh," Gunn denied. "Julian."

"Or maybe Artemisia, if it's a girl," Cordelia murmured.

"No way," Gunn replied. "Thalia."

"What about Philip?" Xander suggested. "Or Felix."

"Felix?" Wesley echoed. "The child will be a werewolf, Xander. They're not going to name it something related to felines."

"Ophelia?" Fred murmured. "Or maybe Cassandra?"

"She was damned," Wil said. "No one believed her. I'd go with Beatrice, or Benedick."

"You would, Shakespeare," Angel muttered. "Ian's a nice name. So is Colin, Siobhan, Maeve."

"Irish, are we?" Xander shot back. "Gregory, Geoffrey, Michael, William, Timothy, Theodore, Matthew, Lucas."

"Amos, Job, Jacob, Malachi, Abel, Cain, Ham, Noah, Abraham," Oz continued.

"Getting a bit Old Testament, are we?" Wil commented.

"Deuteronomy, Ecclesiastes, Romans." Fred whispered.

"Like I want a kid named Pentateuch, Apocrypha, or Talmud," Gunn growled.

"What's wrong with the Talmud?" Wesley inquired.

"Nothing at all," Gunn said. "But would you want to walk around with the name of a religious text? I mean, just imagine. 'Hi there, Bible Talmud Chase-Gunn. How's it hanging?'"

The table cracked up. "No worse than 'Deuteronomy Malachi," Wesley shot back.

"I really do like Ian," Angel said to himself.

"What if it's a girl?" Xander asked. "What about Mare, Monica, Allison, Maria."

"Alan Francis," Cordelia murmured.

"Francis?" Xander replied.

"It's a beautiful name," Angel said quietly.

"So's Connor," Cordelia replied. "But that's all a long way off," She said, brightening. "And we're celebrating here! Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we have to go back to work."

"Hear, hear!" Xander said. "The Queen has spoken; let us imbibe and consume!"

...

Angel opened the screen door for Fred as they stumbled into the house. Work had been tiring for both of them; the grocery store had been understaffed and Vince had decided to throw a 25th anniversary bash at the video store. As a result, both investigators were about to collapse. "My word," Wesley murmured, reaching for Fred. "Falling down after work is certainly becoming a habit around here." Fred smiled weakly and let Wesley carry her upstairs.

Wil heard the two come in and walked downstairs, only to find Angel slumped against the front door. "Vince really worked you over tonight, hmm?" He asked as he pulled Angel away from the door and towards the stairs.

"Customer appreciation and anniversary sale," Angel muttered. "I was in charge of demonstrations." Wil stopped dead in his tracks.

"Demonstrations?" He murmured. "What kind of demonstrations?"

"Not that kind," Angel replied. "Turning on and off vibrators, putting dildos into harnesses, adjusting said harnesses, explaining how to use liquid latex, painting said liquid latex onto arms and legs to demonstrate, explaining how to use cock rings and buttplugs, drawing diagrams of how to use anal beads."

"You should've been a teacher," Wil said lightly, resuming their trek to the bedroom. "I'm sure Vince was suitably grateful."

Angel grinned briefly. He wanted to just fall over on the bed and pass out, but Wil was preventing him from doing that by trying to remove the dark vampire's clothes. Angel pushed his hands away, doing the chore himself. First, though, he had to empty his pockets. The first thing he fished out was a set of cock rings, strung on a loop of silk rope. "Oh, Vince was very appreciative." He tossed the rings to Wil.

"Very nice. Steel, silver, ribbed. He has good taste," Wil murmured. He looked up just in time to catch three plugs that came flying at his face.

"The green one vibrates," Angel warned. "And the red one is for Gunn."

"Gunn?" Wil murmured, his attention focused on the green plug. Vibrating.he could think of so many evil things to do with that one.

"Told Vince about the kid. He figured it was high time Gunn broadened his horizons," Angel replied. He carefully handed over the next items he found in his coat pockets. They were in glass jars and he really didn't want to break them.

"Ohhh." Wil moaned, seeing what Angel had given him. Vince had an in with a local supplier of massage oils and ointments, which sold very well at the store. Of course, Angel didn't tell Vince that the reason they sold well was that while they were pleasant enough for humans, they were particularly.stimulating for most demons. They were the primary reason why nonhumans visited Vince's store. Angel had thanked him profusely for the six jars he'd given the vampire, knowing that Wil would drool over them.

"Oh, and this too," Angel said, handing over the last item. "Vince said we had to take it, since we bought the other one." Wil glanced down, eyes widening when he saw a milky white jade dildo that was an exact match for the one he'd made Angel buy from the shop.

"Vince's gratitude knows no bounds," Wil murmured. "Are you sure that all you did was talk and draw pictures?"

Angel grinned. "I helped push the product," He admitted. "According to Vince, nothing sells sex toys better than a hot guy willing to discuss anal sex."

Wil choked on his laughter. "He's got a point, you know." He could well imagine Angel, blushing slightly despite himself, wielding a dildo as he crooked the fingers of his free hand, explaining how to find a man's prostate. Yeah, he'd have bought something from the shop too, if he'd been there. "Too bad you didn't call. I'd have gone."

"That would've been bad," Angel warned. "The place was."

"I can tell," Wil assured him. "If you weren't nearly unconscious, I'd jump you." The blonde sighed. "As it is, I'll have to wait until morning."

Angel nodded and finished undressing. He was still revved up from the evening's work, but he was also tired enough that he couldn't manage anything. Yeah, they'd have to wait, at least for a few hours.

"Besides, while you're sleeping, I'm gonna go give Gunn his new toy!" Wil said, waggling the small red plug. "Or maybe I should give it to Delia."

Angel grinned and climbed into bed. "Give it to Gunn, but do it later. Come sleep with me now." Wil set the toy down and joined Angel in bed, wrapping himself around his exhausted lover. He could wait to see Gunn's face. Besides, he wanted Xander there too. Gunn had given Xander a lot of grief about the ball gag, so the Raphe was due a bit of payback.

*****
Part 79:

"Bugger all!" "Giles slammed his soft leather briefcase into the stairwell. "Buffy!"

The blonde Slayer stepped out onto the second floor landing. "You bellowed?"

"Please, remind me again why I want to help rehabilitate Faith?"

Buffy shrugged. "Masochism?"

The older man slumped down onto the stairs, looking rather rejected. "That must be the answer; otherwise I would have ceased subjecting myself to such torture long before now."

Buffy walked down the stairs to six next to her Watcher. "What happened?"

"She refuses to discuss the possibility of returning to Slaying, or of even training, when she is released from prison," Giles muttered. "I cannot make her see that it is dangerous for a Slayer to do such a thing; there are many who would jump a the chance to fight an out-of-practice Slayer."

"Did you tell her that the Council won't let her just walk away?" Buffy inquired.

"I might have mentioned that," Giles conceded.

"Hmm. She won't like being told what to do," Buffy commented. "At least, she hasn't so far."

"I realize that," Giles replied shortly. "However, it is one thing for her to be resistant to the idea of taking up studies. She cannot avoid what she is-a Slayer!"

"Why don't you hand her off to that Brian guy you brought in from the Mothership?" Buffy suggested. "He doesn't seem to have enough to do; he follows me around all the time and won't even help out in the office!" More than once she'd tripped over the young Watcher as she tried to work. He just stared and took notes, not even offering to assist her, Willow and Dawn.

"Perhaps, although I doubt he will have any better luck than I," The older man murmured. "Where is Dawn? I promised to visit the mall with her today," Giles continued.

"She's at the police station, trying to convince some detective that he didn't see a bunch of demons attacking a Girl Scout troop," Buffy replied.

"Did a bunch of demons attack a Girl Scout troop?" Giles asked, worried.

"Yes," Buffy said, "But only after the Girl Scouts harassed them into buying five cases of cookies."

"And that was reason enough? I assume you handled the demons," Giles stated.

"Yup," Buffy replied. "Told them to donate the cookies to the local shelter and stay away from little girls in green clothes."

"You *WHAT*?" The Watcher shouted. "They were attacking children!"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "No, they were seeking retribution. The Girl Scouts used underhanded tactics to force the demons to buy the cookies; they made it look like the demons had damaged the cases, and the demons had to buy them or the cops would rough them up. Only thing is, the Girl Scouts set them up with Trefoils."

"And this is so damning why?" Giles grated out.

"Azyakka demons have a deadly allergy to shortbread cookies," Buffy said. "When they got the cookies, they realized that not only had they been bullied by a bunch of kids, they'd been sold their equivalent of poison. They wanted retribution."

"Ah," Giles murmured. He wasn't sure he liked the way she'd handled it, but he held his tongue. The past few years had been enlightening for the Watcher; when he'd first arrived he'd been shocked by the changes he'd seen in Buffy's attitudes toward demons, humans and her predestined duties. In the time since then he'd seen her change even more and while occasionally he disagreed with her, over all he was quite impressed, although the shock had yet to wear off.

Buffy no longer held the 'humans' first attitude that marked her youth. Gone was the time-honored training that all Slayers endured, namely that of learning to identify and kill demons while saving humans. Oh, Buffy still did a lot of that, but she refused to live such a simple life anymore. Giles wasn't sure if it was the lingering influence of Angel and his group's nonhuman make up, Buffy's relationship with Lorne, or the presence of Wolfram & Hart. Regardless of cause, Buffy had shaped herself, and thus the reputation of the Slayer, into someone who defended innocents, be they human or demon, and pursued the evil and unjust, regardless of species. She didn't slay humans, making sure the cops got them somehow, or they got payback in some non deadly form. She still slayed most of the demons she pursued, but that was mostly because death was the way most demons were used to being punished. Only a few demonic communities in Los Angeles had any sort of formal judicial system in place to handle crime; the ones that did had already learned to work with the Slayer when she came to them. The vast majority of the demon population, however, knew that when they crossed the Slayer, death was the most likely outcome.

"If it is not too much trouble, could you tell Dawn that I will be in my office, should she still want to take this odious trip to the mall?" Giles murmured as he rose.

"Sure," Buffy said, waving him off. Her computer bleeped and she went to answer it. /Damn. Vision, and nobody's here but me and Giles./ "Hold up a sec, Giles."

Giles stopped in the doorway. "What is it?"

She scanned the e-mail. "Job, emergency one. Wanna go stake some vamps in Echo Park?"

Giles sighed. "The sun is not down yet," He reminded her.

"No, but it will be in three hours, when the vamps are gonna be swarming a barbecue." According to Xander's vision, there were going to be around twenty vampires, all intent on slaughtering a family reunion.

"As you wish," He said, moving over to the weapons room. "I find it interesting that you receive so many of your most critical jobs via e-mail."

Buffy looked over at her Watcher. "Giles, it's 2007. Dawn orders pizza by instant messenger. Willow refills her prescriptions via e-mail. We shop by text-messaging on our cell phones. Some of our best clients prefer to use e-mail. Why? Because a lot of them are snitching on their own kind and they don't want to be found out; they'd get killed."

Giles looked suitably chastised and went about the business of selecting a few stakes. He still got a bit surprised sometimes at the selection and quality of the stakes and weaponry Buffy had inherited from Angel. Traditional Watcher mentality stated that weapons should be of good quality, maintained meticulously, and respected faithfully. Angel, however, had added an element of aesthetics to his collection, choosing blades with mirror finishes, inscriptions and other such decorations. The stakes, too, were carved with designs and words, as though to differentiate each one. "It would seem as though Angel had an affinity for the baroque," Giles murmured, holding up one particularly gaudily decorated stake.

Buffy peered over. "Beech. Don't use that one; it's the last we've got. Besides, vamps don't care if it's pine or pi�on."

"Ah," Giles said, setting the stake aside. "Beech? Those are rarely used, except against"

"Parghfa demons, I know," Buffy said. "Junior year, just before Christmas." She walked over to Giles and picked up the stake. "Angel and the others carved them all as some sort of bonding thing. Each kind of wood got a different design. I guess it helped for the ones that looked really similar."

Giles nodded and resumed his arming. This time he made sure to select only the more mundane woods. He quickly realized that the oak stakes were all carved with a design of winged phalluses. His first and last thought on the artwork was that he wouldn't have thought that Spike could carve.

...

Dawn got home to a quiet hotel, but she was expecting that. Lorne was out working some of his business contacts, ever trying to improve the club. She'd gotten Buffy's message about the vampires while on her way back home and had continued on to grab a bite and check her mail. She still had plenty of time to meet up with the others, and besides that she needed to leave a message for Willow. The redhead had left her phone and pager at the hotel, so she was incommunicado at the university.

The young woman grabbed a banana and a bologna sandwich and then headed up the stairs. A quick trip into the office told her that all her e-mail was utterly mundane, so she jotted a note to Willow, stuck it on her computer screen, and ran to her apartment for a change of clothes. The cute little blouse and skirt she'd worn to the police station just weren't cut out for slaying, no matter what Buffy thought. For Dawn, fighting was done in blue jeans, long sleeved shirts and leather. Lots of leather. No heels. She preferred her motorcycle boots most of the time.

Checking one last time to make sure all the wards were in place and hadn't been tampered with, Dawn returned to her car and drove over to Echo Park. She hoped Willow got the message either early enough to join them before the fighting started, or late enough she knew to just visit with Lorne.

When Dawn reached the park, she scanned the area, looking for where Giles and Buffy were stationed. They signaled her and she took up a spot in the third position in the triangle. The sun would be down in less than ten minutes and the party they were protecting was in full swing. Dawn wished she could join in; the food smelled divine, the music was addictive and there were bunches of kids playing games and stuff. Sighing, she returned her attention to the task at hand: dusting vamps before the interrupted the event. Fun could be had later, even if it was at Caritas and not in the park.

The last rays of the sun were just dying when Dawn spotted the first vampire. He was leading a whole pack of them, waltzing over a low hill as though they owned the park. She backed up a bit, making her presence less obvious. The vampires didn't even notice her-or Giles and Buffy-as they zeroed in on the partygoers. The demons paid for their inattention; the leader burst into a cloud of dust as Buffy launched a stake at him.

"Dawn!" Buffy shouted, directing her sister towards a trio of vamps heading for some children. Dawn staked the first through the back before jumping up to leap over the second. She landed right on the third, falling onto the ground as the vampire turned to dust from her stake. She flipped as she landed, holding a stake up in her hands. The third vamp was already reaching for her, so she just nudged the stake up a bit and impaled the demon, remembering to close her eyes and breath out through her nose as the dust covered her face.

"I hate vampires, especially when they do that. In fact, I'll pay anyone who develops a vampire who just explodes into *nothing* when they get staked!" She muttered, launching herself into the fray once again. She made sure to keep from getting backed into any tight spots; there were enough vamps that Buffy wasn't going to be able to just save her if she got into a spot of trouble. Giles was holding his own, staking the demons as fast as he could, but he was hindered by his age. Oh, he wasn't over the hill yet, but compared to Buffy and Dawn, he just wasn't that agile anymore.

"Duck, Giles!" Buffy screamed as a vampire pulled out a long knife and began brandishing it towards the Watcher. Giles simply stepped back and waited for the vampire to finish showing off. Then he threw a stake at the demon. The rest of the fight was over quickly; Buffy finished off the last three fledges with no difficulty and the Park was soon free of vampires. For the moment, anyway.

"Thanks, Dawn," Buffy said as she retrieved all their discarded stakes. "I take it you didn't see Willow?"

"No," Dawn replied. "But we did ok on our own."

"Very true," Giles murmured. "We should get back, though. Lorne has a surprise for Buffy at the club tonight."

"I thought it was supposed to be a surprise. You know, the whole 'don't tell Buffy about it' kind of surprise," Dawn shot back. Buffy just grinned.

"It's ok," The Slayer said. "I knew Lorne was up to something. Besides, Giles didn't tell me what the surprise was, you know."

"Fine," Dawn relented. "Can we swing by the mall on our way home? I need to grab a couple of things."

Buffy frowned. "I guess so, as long as it's quick."

...

"Damn," Willow swore. "There was a vision, and I didn't have my phone with me."

Lorne patted her hand. "It was fine, honey," He said. "They called in, everything went ok, and they're on their way back now. Besides, you were busy."

"I was reading," She shot back, still worried. "And I have to start keeping my phone with me more. I can't believe I keep forgetting it!"

"Perhaps," He murmured. "But you did get a lot done today. Now we know who Wolfram & Hart have at the library. That'll help Buffy figure out who's behind those attacks on the physical plant staff."

Willow nodded, partially appeased. She took her work seriously and didn't like the idea of shirking, even if it was accidental. "So what do you have planned for the evening? And don't bother denying it; I know you've got something going on. I distinctly remember you placing an order for a Frangelica torte this morning, and you've been stockpiling cognac for weeks now."

Lorne managed to blush a dark green. "It's a surprise."

"What kind of surprise? I mean, I know it's for Buffy; she's the one with the Frangelica addiction around here. But what are you planning?" Willow pressed.

Lorne stared at the bar for a moment before reaching into his pocket. He withdrew a small box and placed it on the shiny surface, pushing it over to Willow. The redhead glanced from the demon to the box, eyes wide and curious. "If that's a ring." She began slowly. Lorne said nothing, so she reached for the container. Inside, nestled in a swath of velvet, was a braceletor an anklet, she guessed. It was a bit long for a bracelet. "Er, what is it?"

"A ring," Lorne said softly. "Of sorts."

Willow lifted the jewelry. It was a surprisingly heavy, complex chain of interlocking links, all made of hammered platinum. She felt the slightest hum of magic on the piece, which she quickly set down. "I take it that's a bit more than a tennis bracelet?"

Lorne laughed roughly. "More than a bit more," He replied. "I'm not sure if it's a good idea or not, though."

Willow smiled and pushed the box back towards him. "It is. She loves you, more than she's loved anyone else. I can tell, you know. I've seen her in love before, and this is different. She actually talks to you, which she never did before. Yeah, she talked to them, but it's not the same."

Lorne nodded.

"Besides, you're practically married anyway!" Willow exclaimed. "But please, don't let her pick out the bridesmaids' dresses? She'll go for chiffon, and I hate chiffon."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Lorne replied. "Demons don't usually."

"And you'd deny her a big wedding because you're green?" Willow asked ominously.

"Not if she wanted it," Lorne admitted.

"Good. Because she might, or she might not. Never can tell with Buffy, not on that issue," Willow stated. "But good luck anyway. You gonna sing?"

"No. I'd mess up anything I tried," He said jokingly.

*****