Dedication: For all of you who wanted a sequel and gave me such great feedback for "By My Side". Thank you guys!!!! This is for you!

Part 1

Buffy Finnegan looked up from her desk when she heard a knock at her office door. A second later Eileen, her secretary, came in: "Buffy, Mr. Bowler is here."

"Oh, yes, please offer him a cup of coffee. I'll be there soon," the blonde replied. When Eileen was gone, she picked up the phone to dial the familiar number.

"Angel Investigations," Cordelia answered the call.

"Hi, Cordy," Buffy greeted her friend.

"Oh, it's you," the brunette replied. "Angel and Doyle are out."

"Actually I wanted to talk to you, to remind you to think about our dinner tonight."

"I would never forget about it, you're sure we can bring Camille?", Cordelia asked cautiously "Yes, of course," Buffy tried to affirm her quickly, while she closed her eyes for a moment. She took a deep breath, no not now, she thought. Rubbing her eyes she focussed back on the phone. "Georgie and Gavin will come with Daniel, so the little ones can play and then you can put them asleep."

"Isn't it nice they're living in LA now, Georgie and Gavin, I mean?"

"Yeah. Sorry Cordy, I have to go, there's a client waiting for me. See you tonight then."

"Sure. 'Til later."

Putting the phone back on the receiver she took another deep breath and then stood up to meet Chris Bowler. He was the director of one of the big museums in New York and was meeting with her to acquire some paintings. She had to laugh. Who would have thought that she would end up working in her mother's art gallery. Well she did part time. And she was good at it. The other time she was trying to make herself a name as a photographer. It had started as a hobby shortly after her wedding, then during one of Angel's cases a professional photographer had seen some of her pictures and declared she was very talented. So she had taken courses and slowly became more known for her work. There had been two photgraphic exibitions with her work in her mother's gallery so far and currently she was working on her third. She was very good at her work maybe because she was so focussed on it now. At the beginning it didn't look like it, but dreams didn't always come true, she thought sadly.

Shortly after their honeymoon she became pregnant. Buffy vividly rememberd their happiness, the joy in Angel's eyes when she told him about it. They had been looking for a house with more space already as they were still living in Angel's old apartment at that time, looking for furniture for the baby's room when a drunken driver had hit her car one evening. She wasn't hurt badly, but she'd lost her baby. Physically she recovered quickly, but the emotional pain was another thing. Until today the sight of a small child was painful for her, and she hated herself for the jealousy she always felt seeing Cordelia or Georgie with their children.

Angel had tried to persuade her to have another try but she wasn't ready for it. Not yet. She was still so scared to lose another child because she wasn't sure she would be able to deal with a new loss. The first months after her miscarriage had been extremely difficult, she had been bitchy and unfair especially with her husband, who in her eyes was not caring enough about it. Thinking back she was still overwhelmed that he took all her insults and bad mood for so long. And maybe she would have continued with this and destroyed her marriage. But then one day she had appeared unexpectedly at his agency and overheard a conversation between him and Cordelia.

Suddenly Buffy had realised that he was suffering as much as she did from the miscarriage and that he even felt guilty for it because he had been meant to drive her home that evening. He had been delayed by a call in the office and so Buffy had taken her own car and had been hit by the drunken driver. Knowing about his pain she had realised how selfish she'd been and with lots of tears and talking they'd found together again, loving each other even more than before now.

Still a new baby wasn't on the agenda. For Buffy it was too early, even after three and a half years, although she had to admit that the thought was more tempting now than before.

Taking another deep breath she pushed all these thoughts into the back of her mind. There was a client to talk to. So she opened her door, a professional smile on her lips she extended a hand to Mr. Bowler. ******

"Hi, you two," Cordelia greeted the two men entering the office. "Your wife has called," she told Angel.

"Yes?" His head snapped up.

"To remind me about our dinner tonight," she smiled. "She didn't even ask for you."

"Isn't she the incarnation of sweetness and love," Doyle teased his wife while he was looking at his friend.

"Maybe you've been a very bad boy in a former life and this is your torture," Angel grinned at him.

"Alright, boys," Cordelia stood up and put her hands at her hips. "Did you take an early drink or what? Where does this incredibly good mood come from?"

"Oh nothing," Doyle went over to his wive and slid an arm around her waist. Kissing her on the cheek he reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced a cheque. Waving it in front of her face he added: "Only this."

Giving her husband an annoyed glance she snapped it from his hands to take a look at it. Her eyes widened in surprise: "Oh my..."

"You can say that," Doyle nodded walking over to pour himself some coffee. "You want one," he asked Angel, who gave him a nod in response. Ever since the case with the abused boy the agency had become famous. As a result lots of people of the high society hired Angel and Doyle. When the work became too much Spike and Dru became employées of the agency. But even with four working investigators they were all very busy, but earning good money for it now.

As casual as possible, but barely hiding a grin, Angel said: "The lady thought she had to give us a bonus. She was particulary fond of Doyle. Said she just loved his Irish accent as her father came from Dublin."

Narrowing her eyes Cordelia watched her husband who seemed to take sudden interest in his shoes: "What exactly do you mean by saying 'particulary fond'?"

"She called him darlin' Francis," Angel added with a laugh, but then quickly caught the brunette's arm: "Cordy, she's happily married, besides she's eighty years old."

"Well, that's a relief," Cordelia replied and a mischieveous glimpse appeared in her eyes: "Still, you never know when men develop a sudden interest in elder ladies."

"This is ridiculous," Doyle shook his head and looked back and forth between his wife and his best friend. "And it isn't funny," he added with a firm and serious voice.

In response Angel and Cordelia burst out laughing.

*******

"Mom, are you at home," Buffy asked when she entered her parents' home at five o'clock.

"In the kitchen, honey," came Joyce's reply.

"Puhhh," her daughter made and let herself sink onto one of the chairs at the counter.

"Hard day at the office?"

"Hmmm, Mr. Bowler kept me busy for three hours. He's a bit ... difficult." Her eyes narrowed a little bit. "And he was definitely too interested in my female attributes. He kept on staring at my backside the whole time." She sighed loudly. "And then I had to go shopping for tonight's dinner."

"Oh I remember, welcome dinner for Georgie and Gavin. Isn't it great he got such a good job here in LA?" Joyce turned round and looked at her daughter, whoes eyes looked tired. "You should try to get more sleep, honey," she remarked.

Buffy rolled her eyes: "Yes, mom. But if you might remember, there's my third photographic exibition coming up in two weeks."

"Oh," her mother raised an eyebrow. "And I thought there were other things keeping you busy at night," she grinned.

Buffy shot her mother a nasty glance but then grinned as well: "Well, that too. Not that I mind. On the contrary, I wouldn't want to miss it." Then she added quickly: "I have thought about another baby lately."

"Oh," Joyce took a seat beside her daughter and looked at her: "And?"

Buffy shrugged: "I know Angel wants a baby, and I want one too. I really do, but still..."

"You're still afraid you could lose it again, right?" Mrs. Giles put a hand on her daughter's knee. "I know how you feel. Of course I never lost a baby, but having two children I can understand how one must feel losing one. But wasn't it you who once told me dwelling on the past wouldn't help."

Her daughter sighed: "I know. But we had such a hard time after...," she took a deep breath. "I was horrible to him, mom. I don't want to hurt him again."

"I know," Joyce smiled. "But don't you think it's worth the risk. Buffy, honey. You lost your baby, and it wasn't an experience you want to repeat, but it was an accident. You weren't ill or anything. How likely is it that you're going to have another accident?"

"I know, I know. Don't you think I've said this all to myself. In my head I know all this, but it's here," she put a hand over her heart, "there I'm afraid."

"Don't push yourself honey," her mother leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You've made great progress. When the time is right you'll know. Maybe it'll just happen one day."

"Yes, maybe," Buffy sighed again. "Now, tell me, where is my little brother?" 

 Part 2

Putting the shopping bags down, Buffy reached for her key in her pocket, when the door of the apartment opposite opened. After losing the baby she and Angel had decided to stay at the apartment, as there was no reason to move and Buffy was scared of a big house with many rooms remembering what could've been.

A man stepped out of the door, he was in the beginning of his thirties with brown hair and tall, not as athletic as Angel, Buffy thought immediately.

"Hi," he greeted her. "I'm Paul Cook, your new neighbour."

"Hi, nice to meet you," she said, extending a hand. "I'm Buffy Finnegan."

"Nice to meet you too. Can I help you?," he asked nodding at the bags on the floor.

"Oh," she smiled. "No, thanks. I'll manage. We have a dinner invitation tonight."

"You and your girlfriend?" He raised an eyebrow and smiled at her flirtatiously.

"No, actually...", Buffy began, when she was cut off.

"Hey, honey," a well known voice came from the door of the elevator and she turned with a smile on her lips.

"You're early," she greeted her husband.

Grinning he bent down to kiss her: "I have to cook, haven't I? And for six people it needs some preparation time."

"Hmmm," she made, licking her lips after the kiss. Then she remembered the man still standing behind them: "Oh, Angel, this is Paul Cook, our new neighbour. This is Angel, my *husband*." "Oh," Paul seemed surprised but extended a hand. "Nice to meet you. I just moved in."

Both men shook hands then Angel looked at his wife: "I don't want to press you, but maybe I should start preparing dinner," he said with a pointed nod at the bags.

"Yes, of course," she replied and gazed at Paul. "Sorry, but we're a bit busy tonight. My sister-in-law has just moved to LA with her husband and they'll come over. So, see you."

"Yes," Paul gave the couple a smile, but it was only warm when he looked at Buffy, Angel noticed immeditely. "Have a nice evening."

When he went for the elevator he could hear the laughter in his back and the young woman said: "Angel, stop that," more laughter, "I thought you wanted to start dinner," another laugh, "oooh, but that feels very nice." That moment he knew he wouldn't like the husband.

*******

"Do you have everything?," Doyle asked his wife, while he was tryting to find his car-keys. He definitely knew he had put them somewhere, but Cordelia had distracted him the moment they'd entered their house and he'd forgotten all about them. Sighing he kneeled down to look under the sofa when he saw a pair of eyes looking at him from the other side. Grinning he said: "Oh, who is there?"

A giggle was the response.

"Do I know you?," he asked.

Another giggle. And then a shriek when he jumped up and leaned over to pick the little girl sitting there up. "Daddy," she cried happily.

Holding her under his arm he began to tickle her.

"Oh Doyle, stop that," Cordelia came from their bedroom fixing her second earring. "She's all dressed up and you ruin her clothes." Putting his daughter down he looked at her: "Your mother has definitely a thing with clothes," he joked and she smiled up at her father.

"While your father has no fashion sense at all," Cordelia replied drily, but her eyes were smiling. "Now come on you two. Uncle Angel's making dinner, Camille and I'm sure he's made your favourite desert."

"Yeah," the little dark-haired girl smiled happily. "Will Aunt Buffy cry today," she then asked.

Exchanging a quick glance with her husband Cordelia bent down to her daughter: "Camille, I already told you why she's sometimes so sad. They wanted to have a little girl of their own, but it died. It has nothing to do with you. Aunt Buffy loves you very much." She kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Just be really nice to her."

"'kay," Camille said with a serious expression. "I love her too."

"I know," Cordelia smiled. "You're my little girl. And now let's go. You'll meet littel Daniel today. I'm sure you two'll like each other."

"Ewww, a boy," Camille wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"You're truly your mother's daughter," Doyle grinned stroking her little head. Raising an arm in defense towards his wife he began to laugh and the family left the house.

*******

"What time is it," Buffy asked from the bathroom. She was busy fixing her makeup.

"Ten to eight," came Angel's reply from the kitchen.

"Oh God," she groaned. "Only ten minutes. It's all your fault if I'm looking dreadful."

"I'm sure you'll look fine as ever."

"Sure," she snorted. "Typical answer for a man. Life isn't fair, you only take pants and a shirt and look georgeous while I ... Angel," she shrieked, when arms were encircling her from behind.

"Mmmm," he made, nuzzling at her neck.

"Stop it," she tried to escape his grip halfheartedly, but then a moan escaped her lips. "Oh God," she groaned. "I'm never going to get ready." She sighed. "You and your damned ... uuuh ... distractions." She sighed again.

Pulling back from her he grinned at her in the mirror: "I just wanted you to relax."

She shot him a look, but then sighed again: "Good work. But I'm still not ready. There was enough time actually, but then you distracted me."

"I had the feeling you enjoyed it," he grinned devlishly.

"Of course I did, but it wasn't planned." Suddenly she grinned mischieveously: "Somehow I smell something."

His head shot up: "Smell?," there was a note of panic in his voice. "As if," she sniffled, "something's burnt."

"Oh god," he stormed out of the bathroom when he heard the laughter behind him. "Oh you," he turned and stopped in the bathroom-door. "You pay for this."

"Hmmm," she made and grinned. "But later."

"Promise?"

"Go and finish the dinner," she leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. "Work first, reward later!"

Grinning back he returned to the kitchen.

*

Only five minutes later the doorbell rang. Buffy went to answer it and smiled when she saw her friends standing there: "Cordy, Doyle, Camille, come in."

Doyle was the first to hug her, then Cordelia, while Camille waited with huge eyes. She loved Buffy, but she was always a bit unsure around her. Too often the blonde had started to cry without a reason. Now Buffy kneeled down in front of her: "Hey, little one."

"Hi," Camilled said shyly.

"Don't you want to hug me?," Buffy asked cautiously.

As a response the little girl launched herself in her arms which made her laugh. "What a nice way to greet me." With the girl in her arms she stood up and carried her over to the kitchen.

Seeing his wife approching him with Camille in her arms, Angel felt a little pang in his heart, but tried to hide the feeling quickly. "Hi, my angel," he said stroking Camille's cheek with his index-finger. "I have ice-cream for you, but later."

"Yay," the little girl exclaimed happily. "Icecream." When she began to wiggle in her arms, Buffy set her down. Then the doorbell rang for the second time.

"Hi Buffy," Georgie said with a smile on her face, while her husband stood behind her, carrying Daniel who had obviously fallen asleep. "He's tired," Georgie said with a nod at her son after embracing Buffy. "We were in the car for five minutes and he was already fast asleep. Too much excitement with the moving and all."

"You can put him into the bed in the guest room," Buffy offered and lead her over. "It's your old room actually," she opened the door. "And we still have all the furniture."

"Thanks," Gavin went over to the bed and put Daniel down. When he was safely tucked in, they left the room again, leaving the door slightly open, so they would hear him waking up.

While Buffy made drinks for everyone, Angel greeted his sister and her husband.

After that they all sat down and Angel began serving the soup.

"This tastes wonderful," Cordelia sighed. "Like heaven. Really, I still think you're in the wrong business. You should open a restaurant."

"He was always the best of us. Mom tried to teach us all, cooking I mean," Georgie looked at the brunette. "But somehow Angel seems to have a real talent for it. Plus he likes cooking while I hate everything connected to a kitchen."

"The same here," Buffy raised her hand with the spoon. Then she grinned: "One reason I had to keep your brother."

"Yeah, it can be very handy to have a good cook in the house," Doyle said with a pointed look at his wife.

"Hey," she replied in mocked insult. "You better be good. Otherwise you'll make your coffee by yourself in the future."

"You would never do that to me," he grinned. "You love me too much 'Delia."

"And don't call me that."

"Mommy?," Camille asked with wide eyes. "Daddy cannot make coffee," she stated matter-of-factly. "You always say his coffee tastes like shit." She grinned proudly at her comment which made the adults laugh, exept her mother.

"Camille," Cordelia gave her daughter a look. "I told you never to use the s-word."

"But Daddy does and you too."

"Oh god," the brunette groaned.

Still laughing, Georgie looked at Cordelia: "The joys of parenthood. Why on earth did we ever want to do such a thing?."

It was meant as a joke but the moment Georgie saw Buffy's face she wished she could take the words back. Her sister-in-law was desperately trying to keep herself together. Then she stood up: "Sorry," she said hoarsly and ran into the kitchen.

Angel looked at his sister for a moment, who had a guilty look on her face: "It's okay Georgie."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't think," she replied.

"I said, it's okay. You just eat. I will look for her," he said and went after his wife.

*

He found her leaning at the sink, eyes closed, desperately trying to suppress tears. He walked over to her and very gently pulled her in his arms, stroking her head and back. "Shhh," she tried to comfort her.

"I'm so sorry," she sniffed.

"Hey," he slightly pulled back and cupped her cheek. "No need to be sorry. They all understand. Georgie just didn't think."

"But that's just it," Buffy replied, angry with herself. "She cannot even make a simple joke without me losing it."

"Darling," he looked deeply into her eyes. "We've lost our baby. Nobody expects you to behave as nothing has happened."

"But it's more than three years. Don't you think I should be over it. Other women lose their babies too, but they just move on."

"You're not other women," he told her. "You're Buffy, you're very sensitive and that's one of the reasons I love you so much. And about moving on. I will certainly never be over it. There's not one day I don't think about our child."

"Oh Angel," she hugged him tightly. "I'm such a selfish brat."

Hugging her back he kissed her on her skull: "You're not selfish. We both have suffered. But the most important thing is that we didn't lose each other, on the contrary, I think our relationship is much stronger now."

"Yes," she nodded. "I love you so much."

"Love you too." Pulling back again he looked at her: "Are you okay now?"

"Yes, thank you," she stroked his cheek. "You're just the best."

"Never forget that," he grinned.

She hit his chest playfully: "Down, boy. Or you won't get your reward later."

"You'd never do that to me," his grin never faded.

"No, probably I won't, you're just too damned attractive" she sighed dramatically. "But now let's go back. I'm really hungry."

With entwined hands they went back to join their guests again.  

 Part 3

It was about a week after the family and friends dinner when Buffy sat at her office desk sorting through her photgraphs, trying to figure out which ones she wanted to use for her exibition. The title was LA's people and so faces and situations she'd photographed throughout the last months looked up at her from the pictures. Most of them she could clearly remember, like the face of the little boy crying on his mother's arm. Both barely clothed, obviously living on the streets, poor, hopeless, forgotten.

This picture would definitely be shown she decided. It was black and white and very intense. The despair was almost tangible, but there was something else, the love you could feel this mother felt for her child, the way she held him, the way her hands were touching the tiny body said more than words. It was one of the best pictures she'd ever taken.

"Buffy," Eileen's voice came from the door.

The blonde looked up: "What's up?"

"There's a customer who says he's a friend of your's."

Buffy quirked her eyebrows: "And the name?"

"He didn't say. Said it was a surprise," Eileen shrugged. She was the gallery's secretary for six years now. 10 years Buffy's senior she was married and had two children.

"I hate surprises," the blonde sighed but stood up followed the secretary to the show-rooms only to find Paul Cook standing there. Inwardly grimacing she planted her business smile on her face. She'd met him three times over the last week and each time she'd liked him less. "Paul," she greeted him and dismissed Eileen with a warm smile and a nod.

"Buffy," her neighbour turned to her. "I remembered that you told me about the gallery two days ago. My apartment is still empty so I thought maybe I could find something." His eyes were wandering up and down her body.

"I see," she tilted her head, ignoring his looks. "What exactly are you looking for?"

"I'm not sure yet. But probably a painting. I've seen the flyer at the reception desk about your exibition in two weeks."

"I do not paint. I'm a photographer," she told him still wearing ther business smile. From the first moment she'd seen him she knew he wasn't poor, so he might be a real customer and the first rule was never to let personal feelings ruin a deal.

"Oh," he gave her a smile. "I'll come and look at them."

Great, she groaned inwardly, but was all nice and pleasant on the outside: "What sort of painting are you looking for? What period, classical, modern?"

"Modern I think, my apartment is all leather and chrome, so it's not really the place for some old master."

"I see," she replied and led him to a corner in the back: "This is a new, young, local artist. His name is Darren Cahill. I think he's very talented." When she turned to look at him she saw his gaze was at the backside of her body and it seemed as if he hadn't listened to one word she was saying. Deeply annoyed she put her hands on her hips: "Paul, why did you come here?," she wanted to know, being nice to customers was alright, but everything had limits.

"Oh, sorry," his head snapped up, but immediately a seductive smile appeared on his lips: "Come on, you know why I came. You must have felt it too," he stepped forwards and laid a hand on her waist. "That's the reason you choose this dark corner of the gallery, right?"

"Stop that," she hissed. "I'm not interested in you. Take your hand off of me."

"Don't play hide and seek with me, Buffy. You're an attractive woman and I'm not too bad either."

"Talk about an ego," she sighed loudly. "And now, take your hand off my body," she glared at him.

Taking a deep breath he stepped back. Of course this wasn't the right spot for his plans, it could wait for later: "Alright," he raised his hands in defense. "I appologize. Obviously I misunderstood the signs."

"Obviously," she replied, her eyes narrowing. "And I'd appreciate when you would stay away from me. Maybe you've forgotten, but I'm married, but even if I was not, you wouldn't be my choice."

"Maybe I should talk to your boss, about the way you treat your customers," his eyes were narrowing as well now and Buffy could see a dangerous glimpse in them.

"That's a good idea, an excellent idea actually" she interrupted him, seeing Joyce coming towards them. "This is Mrs. Giles, the owner of the gallery," she told him. "Maybe she could help you." With a sweet smile she introduced the two people. "Mr. Cook, that's Mrs. Giles, *mom*, this is Paul Cook. He's interested in modern art." She glanced at her watch: "I really have to go. Angel's waiting for me."

With a last look on Buffy's retreating form Joyce turned around and smiled at Paul: "Now, Mr. Cook. What did my daughter show you so far?"

He gritted his teeth and fumed inwardly. The little chick would pay for this.

******

"Hi Cordy," Buffy entered the agency about half an hour later and smiled at the brunette sitting behind her desk.

"Buffy," she stood up. "What a surprise."

"Not really, I'm meeting ... ah, Angel," she greeted her husband, who came out of his office and kissed her.

"You're early," he looked at his watch. "We said one o'clock."

"I know, but I had an annoying customer who was more interested in my parts than in paintings," she sighed and sat down on the chair in front of Cordelia's desk.

"He didn't bother you?," her husband asked concerned.

"Not really, no. I think he understood the message. Mom's taking care of him now. She's going to lecture him about art, I'm sure," she grinned evilly.

"Well done," Cordelia grinned as well.

"You're still busy," Buffy asked her husband.

"Only two more phone calls, then we can go," he answered and disappeared in his office again.

"How do you feel," the brunette wanted to know, after Angel was gone.

"Good," Buffy stood up and got herself some coffee. "A bit busy with the exhibition and all. I'm very nervous."

"Why? You're good, the other two times were a great success, you sold almost all your pictures."

"I know, but this one is important for me, it's mostly about human faces and they are very difficult to catch," the blonde sat down again, holding the cup in both hands. "And what about you? Any news?"

Averting her friends eyes, Cordelia cleared her throat: "Actually..."

"What?," Buffy asked.

"I'm pregnant again," the brunette blurted out.

The blonde felt tears welling up in her eyes, but surprisingly for herself they were happy tears only, she was happy for her friend: "Oh Cordy, that's great." She put her cup down and came around the table to hug her friend.

"You really mean that?," Cordelia hadn't been sure about telling Buffy.

"Of course. It's great news. What did Doyle say?"

Realising the blonde really meant her words and didn't seem sad, Cordelia didn't hide her excitement anymore: "He's on cloud no. nine. I told him yesterday and now he's already planning for the room for the new baby," she grinned. "He's not here today if you've noticed. He went shopping," she threw her hands in the air. "Shopping. Imagine it! Usually you've to drag him into a store, but now he made an early lunch break to buy a new crib. I said that Camille's old one would do, but oh no, this is a new baby, he said, so it needs a new crib." She let out a short laugh: "This morning Camille asked me, if there was something wrong with Daddy, because he wouldn't stop smiling."

The same moment the office door opened and Buffy grinned: "Now if that isn't the happy father," she greeted Doyle, who was carrying something big and obviously heavy.

"God," he groaned. "I never thought a crib could be that heavy. Hi Buffy." He put the wrapped object down beside the door. "I'm not sure it'll fit in our car," he told his wife and gave her a quick kiss.

She rolled her eyes: "What do you think this baby is going to be: an elephant?" She motioned towards the enormous thing standing near the entrance. "If it is I'm refusing giving birth to that baby."

"'Delia, darlin', it's only all the parts. It's a swinging crib," he explained, when Angel stepped out of his office the same minute.

"Buffy I'm ready now, we can ... good God, what's that?," he asked pointing towards the door.

"That," his wife stood up and took his arm: "Is the crib for Cordy's and Doyle's new baby. I think we leave it to them now, because I'm really hungry. By you both," she turned towards the other couple and smiled: "Maybe it'll be twins," she joked.

Laughing she and Angel left the office and Buffy realised that for the first time in almost four years she'd been able to laugh about the mentioning of a baby. 

 Part 4

"To Buffy," Cordelia raised her hand holding a glass of champagne and ignored the displeased looks she got from her husband, "the exibition was a great success. Congratulations."

"To Buffy," the others said unison and everyone nipped at their glasses.

"To my wife, the greatest photographer," Angel whispered into her ear and kissed her behind her earlobe.

She turned her head and smiled at him: "Thank you," then looked at her friends who were celebrating with her. "Thanks to all of you."

"No need to thank us," Willow laid a hand on Buffy's arm. "You did a great job. The pictures are wonderful."

"Yes, they are," Sheila Finnegan stepped forward and embraced her daughter-in-law. "You're a genius."

"Oh, Sheila," Buffy blushed slightly. "I'm far from it. But I'm so glad you and Daniel came to LA especially."

Mr. Finnegan cleared his throat: "Well it was a good oportunity to see our grandson," he said.

"Stop it Daniel," Sheila slapped his chest playfully. "He just isn't one for compliments. But he's very proud of you too."

Buffy smiled and leaned closer to Angel whose arm was wrapped around her waist protectively. She felt great. The exibition had been a great success. The press was impressed and she'd sold three quarters of the pictures. Joyce was thrilled and Giles almost burst of pride. It was almost nine and they were all assembled in the gallery which was closed since an hour. Buffy's mother had taken care of some sandwiches and drinks and now she was celebrating her success with her friends and family.

"Gavin bought one of your pictures," Georgie said when she and Buffy were standing together in one of the corners. The guests of the little party were scattered allover the gallery now.

"You didn't have to," her sister-in-law nipped at her champagne. "I would have given it to you."

"Oh no," Georgie shook her head. "No way. You're an artist and you cannot just give your pictures away." She grinned: "Angel's very proud of you. You're very, very talented. The one Gavin bought for me is great. It's a mother holding her child."

"Oh I know," Buffy's face lit up. "It's my favourite too. She's so desperate and lost, but there's still so much love between her and the little boy."

"Yes," her sister-in-law nodded emphatically. "The love is almost palpable." She sighed and leaned one shoulder against the wall. "It's an overwhelming feeling to be a mother, it's very special..." suddenly she stopped and covered her mouth with her hand: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

Buffy laid one hand on her arm: "It's okay," she smiled. "Really, it is. I'm much better with his now. Somehow it just happened. I don't know why but when Cordy told me about her pregnancy the only thing I felt was joy."

Georgie beamed: "Oh, I'm so glad. I was so sorry when you lost the baby. Angel was devastated. You had a hard time after this I understand."

"Yes," the blonde nodded: "I ...," she took a deep breath, "I was very unfair to him. Only because he didn't show the pain he felt all the time I thought it wasn't hard for him too. But I was wrong, oh boy, how wrong I was."

"I'm glad you both got through this. I've never seen two people more in love than you two, it would've been a shame if this would've separated you."

"But it didn't, it made us ... ohhh," Buffy reached for the wall to steady herself, feeling dizzy for a moment.

Concerned Georgie took her arm: "Are you okay? Shell I get Angel?"

"No, no," the blonde shook her head and smiled. "I'm fine. I just, well I didn't eat all day," she admitted. "I was so nervous and my stomach doesn't take food then. And now all that champagne, it's just not the best combination."

"Agreed," Georgie said with a nod. "But that doesn't mean your husband shouldn't take care of you. Excuse me for a moment," she said and went over to get her brother, who was talking to Joyce and Willow.

He turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder: "You better get your wife some food, she didn't eat all day and you aren't taking care of her," she teased.

"Buffy," he turned and looked at the blonde who was smiling at him and shaking her head. "Is she okay?"

"Yes, now go and get her some food," his sister took his glass. "I'm going to entertain myself with Mrs. Giles. Go," she gave him a little push.

"Are you alright?," Angel asked with the same concern Buffy had seen on his sister's face before.

She smiled and nodded: "I'm fine. You know me, I was nervous and couldn't eat all day. Then champagne on top of it...," she trailed off.

"I'll get you something," he gently kissed her hand and headed for the food.

"Now Buffster," a voice came from behind and she turned around to look into Xander's grinning face. "You're getting famous."

"Well," she tilted her head and looked at Anya who was standing beside her husband. The two of them had been married two years ago. "And you're getting very busy soon," she said with a pointed nod at Anya's rounded belly.

"I'm cannot wait to get rid of this," she sighed loudly. "Being pregnant is highly overrated. You know when I found out I was pregnant all my friends were grinning and telling me how wonderful this would be but I feel horrible. Fat, ugly and I'm walking like a duck."

Buffy grinned: "Poor Anya, but it'll be over soon."

"Another week," Xander's hand stroked his wife's belly gently. "I can't wait to see him."

"It's a boy then?," Angel asked while he handed his wife a plate with two sandwiches.

"Yes, a boy," Anya nodded. "We saw it on the ultrasound," a grin spread over her face, "actually the doctor told us. Ultrasound-pictures aren't that clear, at least not for me."

"Buffy," Xander looked at the blonde. "It was a wonderful evening, but we'll leave now. Anya needs her rest."

"Of course," Buffy handed Angel her plate for a moment and embraced her friends: "Thanks for coming. Thanks a lot. And tell me when the Baby's arrived."

"Of course," Xander grinned and the couple left the gallery.

"Hmmm," Buffy chewed her sandwich and looked at her husband. "That tastes like heaven. I'm so hungry all of a sudden."

He smiled: "Of course you are. All this has been wonderful," he gestured around the gallery, "and now you're relaxed. Time for your stomach to call out."

She sighed: "Yeah, you're right. I still can't believe everything went so well. Mom said we earned a lot of money today."

Angel took her hand and kissed it's back: "I'm so proud of you. After all you've been through in your life, you never gave up."

She looked at him for a moment: "But you didn't either. I mean, you were with me through all the storms in my life, well, the important ones at least."

"Isn't that what marriage is about. To be with each other, to take care of each other, to give each other strength?," he asked now kissing her palm.

"Yes." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm really tired now. I hope this will soon be over."

"We can push them all out," he offered. "I'm sure they'll understand."

"I think I'm going to sleep for 24 hours then," she sighed, then suddenly a wicked grin spread over her face: "Talking about marriage, it reminds me of something I want to do before I sleep like dead."

"Really, whatever could that be?," he asked innocently and raised a brow. Kissing her hand again he added: "I have a better idea. We could go now and leave the pushing-out part to your mother. I'm sure she'll understand." With this he went over and talked to Joyce for a while. When he came back he simply took her hand and pulled her with him while Buffy had to grin when she saw her mother winking at her.

******

Paul Cook sat in his living room with a glass of wine and a well proportioned blonde beside him who seemed to be a promise for a night of passion. He'd been at the gallery today but Buffy had ignored him. He wasn't entirely sure that it was only because she had to talk to the press. The moment she had been free he had tried to approach her when he had seen her husband entering the gallery. So Paul had left without even exchanging a word with her. He had been furious afterwards and to please himself he had called Denise, a girl working at his office who had tried to hit on him for weeks.

Now she was sitting with him on the sofa, the fingers of her left hand wandering seductively over his arm, when he heard laughter from the hallway and two people, a man and a woman talking to each other. He couldn't hear the words clearly but even a fool would've noticed that they were heading for their bed, but not to sleep in it.

He felt anger rising inside of him again and when he heard the door of the opposite apartment shut he pulled Denise in his arms. She was blonde and not to tall, maybe if he closed his eyes he could imagine she was someone else for the night. 

 Part 5

Buffy was dreaming a wonderful dream. She was laying in the arms of her husband and his hand was stroking her rounded belly, gently, softly, and she felt good, oh so good. She felt safe and protected in Angel's arms, she could see his smile, they both were happy. Suddenly the scenery changed. Darkness was surrounding them and she could feel a threatening presence somewhere near them. Her hand reached for her belly, but the roundness was gone, it was flat again as if there'd never existed a child. But there was blood, lots and lots of it. "No," she scremed and bolted upright in her bed. She panted heavily, *a dream, it was only a dream*, she thought and started when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Buffy, my sweet, did you have a dream?," a beloved voice asked beside her. When he realised her body was trembling he immediately wrapped her in his arms. "What was it?," he asked softly.

"Oh, Angel. It was the dream, you know the one I always had after I lost the baby," she sobbed in his arms.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. Shhh," he stroked her hair and back. "Please don't cry."

"I'm okay again," she sniffed and pulled back slightly. "It was just so ... so unexpected. I didn't have the dream for over two years. I don't understand why it now comes back to haunt me."

"Maybe all the stress because of your exibition," he suggested. "You were feeling dizzy yesterday night." He kissed her softly on the forehead and then suddenly looked a little bit guilty. "Maybe I shouldn't have distracted you afterwards."

"Nonsense," she replied with a smile. "It was wonderful and you know that. I love making love to you."

"I love it too," he smiled. "In fact I love you," he then added. "Are you feeling any better now?"

"Hmmm," she sighed and snuggled deeper in his embrace. "You're always great in making me feel better," she yawned, "an expert actually," she yawned again and her voice was already far away when she added, "Gavin bought Georgie one of my pictures, did I tell you?"

He smiled and looked at her, she was fast asleep. But Angel wasn't able to go back to sleep for a while. He wasn't usually a person who believed in supernatural things, but he too thought it was strange she would dream that special dream right now.

****

"Morning boss," Cordelia grinned when Angel entered his office two weeks later. "You're early."

"Morning to you too," he greeted back and glanced at Doyle's office, "Is your dearest husband there?"

"No, he's out already. Some research for the Cameron-case."

"I see," Angel nodded. Rebecca Cameron was a middle-aged woman who suspected her husband, a well known director, to have an affair with a young starlet.

"And there's a new client in your office."

"Oh?," he raised an eyebrow.

"Hmmm," she made and looked at the computer screen. "Something about his daughter. He wouldn't tell me, he wants to talk to one of the partners he said, and as Doyle was out already..." "Alright. Could you get me some coffee. Black, strong."

She grinned again, "Still tired my friend? You should really be careful about your nightime activities. You don't get any younger you know," she teased.

"Sure," he grinned back, "You're the expert on sleep I say," he added with a pointed look at her belly and then disappeared in his office.

******

Buffy closed the door and ran for the elevator. She was already late this morning. After Angel had left Noel Lansing had called her and talked to her on the phone for hours. He was the owner of a big gallery in New York and had also been one of the guests of her photo exibition. Now he told her that he was interested to have something similar in one of his galleries. He was a boring man, but the opportunity to show her work in New York was too intriguing. So she had to patient on  the phone and listen to all his stories about his children before he came to the point.

Another glance at her watch told her she had to hurry, her mother had a business appointment at ten o'clock and she had promised her to be at the gallery in time. The doors of the elevator opened and she stepped it. Pressing the down-button she gasped when at the last possible second Paul Cook slipped in.

"Morning," he said with a smile.

"Hello," she replied.

"May I say how beautiful you are this morning," he complimented her.

"Hmmm," she made searching in her purse for the car keys and not really paying attention to him.

"On your way to the gallery I guess."

Her head shot up, "Oh sorry," she gave him an absentminded smile. "I'm really in a hurry."

As soon as the door of the elevator opened she rushed out without looking at him again. He on the other hand watched her leave the house and get in the car. The chick was ignoring him. He would tell her... but then a smile spread across his face, maybe this was her way teasing him. He wanted her and he would have her, he vowed. Husband or not, he would have her.

*****

"Now, Mr. Benton," Angel took another sip from his coffee, "let me resume this. Your daughter is 24, a single and lives in L.A. She's blonde and around five feet high. Usually she calls you once a week, but for two weeks you have not heard from her." He didn't like it. This didn't sound good, not at all.

Miles Benton nodded, "Exactly, Mr. Finnegan. And she's a very dutiful daughter. Her mother is out of her mind because she didn't call. She moved to L.A. a year ago. She had a hard time at the beginning." He smiled, "we tried to persuade her to come back home. We're from a small town in Ohio, you know. But she was too stubborn, she's always been stubborn. She wanted to go through with his." He sighed, but his expression was full of love and concern for his daughter. "And then she fell in love with one of her collegues. Obviously he didn't feel the same, but it didn't bother her. She's always been a hopeless romantic. Like her mother," he sighed again. "But then two weeks ago this young man seemed to notice her. He invited her for dinner. She seemed so happy. Since that day we haven't heard from her."

Angel looked at Cordelia who was writing down all the facts. Then he turned back to his client, "Do you know the name of that man?"

"No," the older man shook his head, "Somehow it never came up, it wasn't really important as he didn't seem to be interested in my daughter at first. I don't know why he changed his mind." He reached into his pocket and then handed a picture to Angel, "This is her. It was made a year ago. But she hasn't changed much. She's been home for some days six weeks ago."

Angel's eyes widened for a moment when he saw the picture. The girl was a petite blonde, with large hazel eyes and a nice smile. She reminded him of Buffy at the first look. She didn't really look like Buffy, but she was a similar type. He handed it over to Cordelia, who gasped a little bit. Obviously she had the same first impression.

"Well, Mr. Benton," Angel gazed at the concerned father, "we will try our best. Did you talk to the police?"

"I did," Miles Benton nodded, "but it wasn't very promising. She's an adult and they mainly shrugged saying it was nothing special that a girl of her age would disappear for a while. Some people would go on spontaneous vacations, they told me. But Mr. Finnegan, my daughter isn't like that. She would've called us, informed us where she would go. My wife has a weak heart and our daughter wouldn't have done anything to upset her."

"Alright. Would you please leave any further information with Cordelia," Angel stood up and looked at his client. "We need her postal adress, the adress of her work and these things. Names of girlfriends if she's told you about them and so on."

The older man nodded, "Of course. Mr. Finnegan you were recommended to me and I trust you. Please find my daughter, she's all we have. My wife ... she wasn't well and so she's our only child."

"I understand," Angel assured him and he did. He had to think about the baby he and Buffy had lost. "We will try to get information as quick as possible. Oh another thing. You never gave us the christian name of your daughter."

"Really?," Mr. Benton looked at him for a moment and then shrugged. "Obviously it never came up. It's Denise. My daughter is called Denise Christine Benton."

Go to the Part 6