Chapter Eleven

SO HERE'S WHAT HAPPENED: (Maybe I can get Robert Redford to do this! ::grin::) Spike and Buffy head to Los Angeles to inform Angel of three things: They are in love, they're going to have a baby, and he is going to be a father. There is a pretty stomach-turning scene in which Angel dominates Spike in a moment of insecurity, and then Buffy comes back from the beach with Cordelia and heals him with her blood. Spike, Angel and Buffy visit the Oracles, where Buffy inadvertently finds out about Angel's redemption. When they get back to the hotel, Angel begins to describe it, at which point Spike goes suicidal and nearly kills himself. Issues are worked out, and the blond couple return to Sunnydale, then move to L.A. in Buffy's ninth month in the hopes that Darla will reappear. Lo and behold, one night as Angel drags himself home covered in demon-ooze, Darla shows up, screaming bloody murder. "Angel, give me a stake," she groans.

"A stake?" Angel asked, worriedly. He inched back a bit. "You're not going to use it on me, are you?"

Darla clutched her stomach, doubling over. "No," she ground out. "I need you to use it on me." She screamed around a contraction. "There's something wrong with the baby."

"But... wouldn't that kill the baby too?" he questioned as he slowly pulled a stake out of his sleeve.

"It's human, Angel, and there's something wrong, and you're killing it." She looked up at him. "Do it."

Angel's hand trembled. "I--I can't." he said.

"Slayer." Darla panted. "You know how you didn't get to kill me last time?"

Buffy nodded warily, sweat matting down her hair. "Why?"

"Now's your chance. Kill me and save my baby." When Buffy hesitated, Darla pushed. "Come on. It's your job. Do it."

Buffy took the stake she had been biting on to take the edge off her contractions. She looked Darla in the eye, and saw relief. Without any more warning, she plunged the stake into the blond vampiress' heart. As the dust settled, the cries of an infant filled the room. Nestled in his mother's dust was a tiny baby boy.

"Graaaaaaaah! Oh my god, it's coming!" Buffy shrieked.

Angel contintued to stare down at his child. Cordelia, who had been witnessing this from the sidelines, rushed over with a soft towel and cleaned the baby off. She wrapped him in a small blanket and handed him to his stunned father. The child immediately calmed down at his father's cool touch.

Meanwhile, Buffy screamed one last time, then fell back, panting, as a slippery infant fell into its father's hands. He held the baby up proudly. "It's a girl!" he said, puffing his chest. Cordelia took the child from him, using makeshift methods to tie off the umbilical cord. She again cleaned the baby and handed her to her mother.

"We should get these kiddos to the hospital," Cordelia stated, grimacing slightly at the babies, placentas still attached.

Buffy handed her daughter to the former May Queen and allowed Spike to lift her gently into his arms. "Angel, we need your keys," Cordelia said to the still stunned dark-haired man. When he didn't respond, she plucked the keys of his convertible from his pocket with one hand. The four adults and two newborns left for the hospital a few moments later. Angel had never driven so cautiously in his entire life. Cordelia held the infants while Spike soothed Buffy in the backseat. He would clean the upholstery later.

They entered the hospital, Cordelia signing them all in, and Buffy was sent to get inspected for any major injuries sustained during the birth of her daughter. The infants were measured, cleaned more thoroughly, and their umbilical cords cut.

"Who is the father?" a nurse asked the group of onlooking adults.

"I am," Spike and Angel immediately responded, then looked at each other. "He is."

Cordy rolled her eyes. "Buffy was so wonderful to have carried our son during her own pregnancy, wasn't she, Liam sweetie?" she asked Angel, elbowing him in the ribs. The nurse raised an eyebrow when Angel yelped and clutched his side for no apparent reason. Spike smirked.

"I see," said the nurse patronizingly. She took out the form for the baby boy. "And your names are..."

"Liam and Cordelia McCormick," Cordelia said cheerily. "Can we see our baby now?"

The nurse looked at the brunette couple, then back down at her clipboard. "Do you have a name chosen for your son?"

"Connor Angelus," Angel stated. Cordelia's eyes widened at his choice for his son's middle name, but she said nothing.

Spike coughed. "How is my wife doing?" he asked the nurse.

"She's going to be fine. She's really tired right now. Would you like to see her?" the nurse asked.

Spike nodded vigorously and allowed himself to be led down the corridor to the private room where Buffy was resting. She held their daughter gingerly, cooing softly to her and stroking her downy hair. "Your daddy and I love you very much, baby. And someday you'll find out that daddy's a very special person..."

"You look beautiful," Spike murmured upon entering the room. He kissed his wife softly, then gazed adoringly at his newborn daughter. "What are we calling her?"

"Anne," Buffy replied, smiling softly at the infant that cuddled to her breast. "Do you like that, name, baby?"

The infant cooed softly. Spike's face split into a grin. "I think Anne likes her name. I was thinking about Rachel for the middle name. My youngest sister's name," he explained.

"Anne Rachel Alexander. It's perfect." She pulled Spike down for another gentle kiss. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too, pet." He looked down at his daughter. "Can... can I--"

"Hold her?" she asked. He nodded. Buffy smiled. "Of course you can. She's your daughter too." He picked the infant up gingerly, not wanting to hurt her. Soon, however, he held her much more comfortably.

"'Allo Anne. I'm your daddy. Your mum and I love you very much," he murmured to the baby. "Your mum is a very special lady. Never met a lady so brave or so strong in my entire life. Hope you grow up to be just like 'er."

Buffy watched the tender scene with teary eyes. She had never pictured Spike to be a domestic until that very moment. A soft knock sounded at the door and Angel and Cordelia walked into the room, Angel carrying his newborn son.

"Connor, this is Buffy, your daddy's ex-girlfriend," Cordelia explained to the groggy infant. "Don't let him get too close to her, or he'll go crazy. But don't worry. See that guy over there with the total absence of hair color? That's Spike. He'll keep your daddy away from Buffy." Angel rocked his son gently, scowling at Cordelia.

Spike grinned. "You know it," he said, sticking his tongue between his teeth. "Anne, this is Peaches and the May Queen." He walked over to where the brunettes stood. "When you're older, Cordelia here will teach you everything you never wanted to know about fashion." Cordelia huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "And this little guy is Connor."

"The Child of Light and the infant of the sun and moon have been born," a gravelly voice stated flatly. "Together. They have destroyed the apocalypse already."

"Don't worry, Master. There's always next time," came a nasally, whiny voice. Screams of agony filled the air, as well as the acrid scent of charred flesh. "And it will be sooner than those warriors think."

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