Part Six

"Someone tell me why are we at a Starbucks again?" Xander asked his friends. The entire Scooby Gang was crowded around a corner table at the coffee shop, looking at the huge old book Giles had brought with him.

"Because I'm tired of all of you messing up my house," the Brit replied. "And Cordelia thought this would be a suitable replacement meeting place."

Everyone glared at the budding actress. She looked around, a little wide eyed. "Hey," she defended after a sip of Caramel Frappuchino. "I don't see why we have to be uncomfortable and annoying when we can have good drinks and munchies while we work."

"Depends on your definition of good," Xander grumbled.

"Angel never complained," Cordelia mumbled under her breath.

"Can we get back to this please?" The ex-watcher pleaded, gesturing toward the book. "It would be nice if we could stay on task for once."

"Okay," Buffy grinned. "Now exactly what does this word Gnak'thoh mean?"

"That's what I've been trying to get at for the last fifteen minutes," Giles sighed. "We know it means swarm. I did some research and this is what I found." He pointed at a passage in the book. It looked like gibberish to everyone else at the table, as it was in a demon language none of them had ever seen before. "To the Vei-rogk, having one of their clan killed is an insult of the highest degree."

"Way to go, Buff!" Xander held up his hand as if for a high five, then saw the glares he was getting from the women, and Giles, around him. "Sorry."

"As I was saying," Giles continued. "To swarm means that the Vei-rogk will come down upon the death place of their brother with terrible force and an army of demons, to get revenge for the embarrassment of one of their own kind. They believe themselves too intelligent to be killed, and thus consider failure to be a stain upon the entire clan. They swarm to cleanse that stain."

"So we're talking end-of-the-worldy stuff again aren't we?" Willow asked unhappily.

Buffy grimaced. "I hate the end of the world. It's always late, and always at the worst possible time."

"Actually, wouldn't this be early for the world to end?" Xander commented. "I mean. I don't want it to end yet." He put his arm around Anya who, for once, had remained mostly quiet during the conversation.

"Then we need to come up with a way to stop it," Buffy said simply. "We kick bad guy butt, evil demons go bye-bye. Who's with me?" The Scooby Gang looked at each other for a moment, exchanging glances. "Not me fighting," Buffy smiled, sipping her decaffeinated hot chocolate. "Just with me on getting rid of them."

"Well of course we are!" Cordelia stated firmly, trying to make everyone else enthusiastic. "We can stop them. How many of them can there be?"

"According to this, there are at least twenty Vei-rogk in a clan. And each one can control up to fifteen demons in a fight. Their ability to take over the minds of the demons they have working for them -and it must be voluntary to work- makes them very deadly, since they are extremely intelligent."

"Ummm....anyone feel like running for the hills now?" Cordelia asked. No longer quite as enthusiastic as before.

"We can't," Willow replied. "If we don't stop them, at least Sunnydale is doomed. If we run, they'll follow us until we're dead."

"Wrong," the Slayer shook her head. "It's me they want. I'm the one who killed their brother. Hopefully it won't come down to them and me." And her children.

"We won't let that happen," Willow assured her. "I'm sure Tara and I can come up with another spell. Maybe one to stop them from controlling other demons?"

"It's possible," Tara nodded. "And maybe some others that could be useful in battle. We'll get started right away."

Buffy smiled. "Great. I just hope we get to them before they get to us."

"No problem," the brunette smiled. "Just give me a call if you need a ride home later." At Buffy's nod of consent, Cordelia put the car in drive and pulled away.

The blonde gathered her inner strength and walked up to her mother's door. She didn't know what was about to happen, but her mother had called her -for the first time since Buffy had told her she was pregnant- and asked her to come over for dinner. The Slayer knew better. Mom wanted to talk. The problem was, this was equally as likely to be another lecture as it was to be an "I'm sorry" talk. Buffy was hoping for the latter of the two. Feeling much more timid than usual, and not liking the feeling one bit, she rang the door bell.

"Coming!" came her mother's voice. "Buffy," she smiled as she opened the door. It was a brilliant happy-to-see-you-smile, but a I'm-relieved-that-you-even-came smile. Joyce's eyes opened slightly wide as she took in her daughter's radically changed appearance. Buffy noticed the little intake of air and slightly wide eyes that constituted a gasp of shock from her mother.

"I know, I'm huge," she smiled to break the silence.

Her mother blinked, then smiled a little sheepishly. "I'm sorry. It's just, I haven't seen you since that night when–"

"I know, Mom," Buffy cut her off before she started babbling. "Thanks for calling."

Joyce smiled. "Well, don't stand in the doorway all night. Come on in. I've got Tuna Noodle Casserole in the oven." It was a dish she had made often when Buffy was smaller, and had been the only way to get Buffy to eat tuna. "Are you hungry?"

"Starved," Buffy chuckled. "Seems to be the story of my life lately."

"I'm sure it does," her mother couldn't help but smile a little. "You should have seen the grocery bills when I was carrying you. Your father complained that he didn't have a wife and child-to-be, but a pair of racehorses." The oven timer went off.  "How's Riley?" she asked as she removed the casserole.

Buffy swallowed. "We...broke up."

"Oh, Buffy," Joyce swung around, her face full of motherly concern. "I'm sorry. What happened?" It was to her credit that she didn't make any assuming statements about why they had split up.

The younger woman felt a little relieved that her mother hadn't laid the blame on either of them immediately. It meant she was learning to reserve judgement til she knew more about the facts of the matter. Yet she didn't relish telling her the rest of it."I broke up with him, Mom."

Joyce looked truly confused. "But why? You seemed so happy together."

"He was stifling me, Mom. I couldn't deal with his overprotectiveness, his constantly trying to control my life. I don't think he really knew that he was doing it," she said in his defense. "But he kept taking over, and talking about how I'd have to stop slaying to take care of the baby, and telling me what I should eat, and all sorts of other stuff. I'm sorry, but tofu is not on my list of cravings!"

Her mother smiled a little at her last outburst. "He doesn't understand you," was all she said.

Buffy nodded. "He just can't grasp that Slaying is my sacred duty and all that. I can't give it up, even though I'd like to. But I can't and won't til the world is safe. I won't put my babies in danger, but if I have to sacrifice all of us to save the world, then I'll do it."

Her mother didn't look thrilled with that statement, but she nodded. "I know, honey. I've had several years to think that part of your life over, and see it in much more detail than I ever really wanted to," she said, then turning to put the casserole on plates. She spun back around an instant later. "Did you say babies? As in plural?"

Buffy let out a snort of laughter. "Yes I did. Didn't I tell you? I'm sure I told you." She grinned wickedly. "It's twins."

Joyce leaned back against the counter, dinner forgotten for the moment. "Twins," she repeated, stunned. Speechless, she finally just hugged her daughter. "You amaze me sometimes," she said, smiling. "I'm still not thrilled that you and Riley were so reckless that this happened in the first place, but if you're happy with your situation I'm not going to try and change it."

The Slayer smiled. "Thanks, Mom. But it wasn't totally our fault." Before Joyce could give the typical parental response to that statement, Buffy pushed on, telling her mother about the sexually repressed child ghosts in the frat house, and how the entire house and everyone in it had been overcome by sexual desires. She abashedly told her mother about how it was feeding specifically of her and Riley's sexual energy, and made it impossible for them to stop. At the end, she wondered if her mother would believe such a crazy story.

Joyce looked at her for a minute. "Sexually repressed ghosts forced you to have sex and got you pregnant."

"Pretty much."

"That is the strangest story I ever heard," her mother chuckled. "Sure beats conception on the kitchen table. "

"Mom, I didn't need that mental image," Buffy grimaced slightly. Kitchen table. Why did those words give her deja vu? Whatever.

Joyce smiled back. "I'm sorry." She looked at her for another moment. "Twins."

"I look it, don't I?" Buffy smiled. "Don't worry about me, Mom. Wait, let me amend that. Don't do any baseless worrying. I'm fine. No complications of any kind so far. And I am eating healthy. Willow, Cordelia, Tara, and Anya will all back me up on that."

"Good to know your friends take care of you," her mother seemed happy. "Cordelia's back?"

"Yeah, she decided she could use some acting lessons before actually becoming an actress," Buffy replied. "So she moved in with us."

"I thought you two didn't always get along."

"We didn't. And we don't always now," Buffy admitted. "But we are better friends than we were before. Things have changed a lot since high school."

"No kidding," Joyce dead panned.

Buffy grinned. "How about some dinner before I collapse on the kitchen floor and make you feel all guilty?"

"We can't have that now, can we?" her mother smiled. "And I won't let my grandchildren go hungry either." With that she turned and picked up two plates.

Angel was perfectly at home in the dark, Wesley was another matter entirely. Without the aid of a light to see, he was almost helpless in the dark. Angel's vampire eyes could see well enough for  the two of them though, and Wesley's ears were good.

After what seemed an eternity, Angel sighed. "We lost him."

"Are you sure?" Wesley asked his employer.

Angel nodded, even though he knew the Brit couldn't see him. "Positive. His smell is gone."

"How can you smell anything down here," Wesley said quietly, referring to the stench of sewer that surrounded them.

"Practice," he sighed, more out of habit than any real need to expel carbon dioxide. "We might as well go home."

They trudged back out of the sewers and began the long walk home through the nearly deserted LA streets. The glaring street lights accented the shadows and the vast emptiness about them. The worse parts of the city apparently *did* sleep sometimes.  A wind off the ocean blew bits of paper and city grit across the ground at their feet. It was a harbinger of the winter rains to come: damp and cool. It combed through Angel's hair like delicate fingers. In a breath of familiarity it was gone again.

"Angel."

He turned to look at Wesley.

"I need to tell you something." The tone in the younger man's voice was serious.

"Go ahead." Angel had a feeling he knew what was coming.

"I've been offered a job."

Angel managed a small smile. "Congratulations. When do you start?"

"That's the thing. They want me to start as soon as possible. It's a library position." The other man looked decidedly uncomfortable. "It's at U.C. Sunnydale."

"Oh." The vampire didn't trust himself to say anything more in comment. He hated losing friends. It was selfish, but then most of his existence had been led by selfish motives. He could be alone. He'd done so before. "That's...great."

"I won't go if you don't want me to, Angel," Wesley insisted.

"It will be good for you to go," Angel replied.

Wesley shook his head. "Don't start feeling sacrificial on me. Cordelia would have my hide if she knew I let you get away with that."

Angel chuckled a little at that. "She would. I mean it, Wes. Go back to Sunnydale. They can use your help there. It's not like there's been anything horribly exciting happening around here lately."

"Promise you'll call if you need help."

"I promise. I'm not a child you know."

Wesley grinned. "Tell that to Cordelia."

"I tried," Angel smiled back. It was sincere, if sad.

They reached the corner outside Angel Investigations' new building. It was only a few blocks to Wesley's apartment from there. They stopped for a moment.

"Good night," Wesley spoke at last.

"Good night, Wesley."

When the Brit was gone, Angel entered the building along, and feeling more depressed than he had in a long while. Closing his door against the world outside, he made his way across the apartment without bothering to turn on any lights. He didn't need them, nor was he in the mood for their cheery brightness. He pulled a packet of blood from the fridge and a pint of Irish whiskey from the fridge, mixing the two in a mug, about a quarter whiskey,  and taking the concoction into the living room where he crashed on the sofa. The whiskey had been Doyle's, left in his fridge and had somehow migrated over to Cordelia's before the old office had exploded. It had been decades since Angel had indulged in any form of alcoholic beverage, but he felt the occasion appropriate. He had lost again. First he left Sunnydale to give Buffy a real life. Then Doyle died. Cordelia left, and now Wesley. If he had felt he deserved it, he might have cried. Or gone back to Sunnydale.

He refused to do either. Tears he didn't deserve. Besides, he told himself, he was still needed in LA. Buffy could take care of Sunnydale, and she had her friends to do so until her child was born. Even if she wasn't with Riley anymore, she wouldn't want to see him. He would be a painful reminder of her failure in any kind of relationship.

He couldn't trust himself. Angel had to admit it. If he went back to Sunnydale he didn't think he could keep himself from pursuing Buffy again. That path went places they shouldn't ever go again, but that drew them both whenever they were within sight of one another. He had felt it those several months ago when he had gone to apologize to her. He hadn't known then that she was pregnant. According to Cordelia, Buffy hadn't known yet either. It was amazing she hadn't miscarried, fighting Adam as she did. Yet her baby was strong enough to survive. Her baby...and Riley's.

Angel was jealous. He could feel it seething within him, stronger than the demon. Riley had given Buffy everything he couldn't have with her. There was only a little satisfaction in the thought that Buffy had dumped the mid-western misfit. The child she carried wasn't his. Those nights of love had not been theirs. All his dreams were destroyed by an idiot from the Army.

Angel finished his dinner and went for seconds.

"He did!" Buffy grinned, taking a lick of her ice cream cone. "I couldn't believe it!"

"Who could have pictured Giles playing on a slip-n-slide!" Willow panted.

Buffy couldn't have until earlier that day. She had been stunned to find Giles babysitting for his next door neighbor, who had four children: ages 2, 4, 5, and 9. It had been a hot enough afternoon that the kids had pulled out the old toy and had been playing. Buffy had arrived just as they had convinced Giles, in shorts and a t-shirt, to try it. Needless to say, the former-watcher had been slightly embarrassed to have been discovered. "It was really funny," the Slayer chuckled. "Mmmm. Chocolate Maple Fudge ripple."

"Good, isn't it?"

The two girls had just gotten ice cream at a new shop that had just opened up in town. They had the most interesting flavors; all home made.

"It's del- hold on!" Buffy held up a hand, bringing Willow to a halt. "I feel vampire-y."

The red-head pulled a stake from her bag as the bushes next to them rustled.

"Come on out!" Buffy said loud enough for the bush to hear. "I know you're there."

"I kind of figured that," came the sarcastic cockney response.

Buffy and Willow looked at each other, stunned. "Spike?"

"Well who else would it be," the blonde vampire replied, stepping out of the dark, clad in black as always.

"Where have you been?" Buffy asked, curiosity getting the better of her. Spike hadn't been seen since before school let out the semester before.

"None of your business, Missy," Spike grinned. His eyebrows ran for his hairline as Buffy stepped into the light of a street lamp. "My, my. Look at what we've got here. If it isn't Miss Housewife-Idaho. Or is that Missus now? I don't see any diamonds."

"Shut up, Spike." Buffy glared at him, suddenly horribly conscious of her belly.

"Touchy aren't we?" He grinned devilishly. "Of course, that would be how this happened in the first place, wouldn't it." He glanced nervously around him, and Buffy noticed.

"You're being followed," she grinned, glad to be able to change the subject.

Spike leaned against the lamp post and lit up a cigarette, obviously upset that she'd noticed, but even more distracted by the fact that it was the truth. "Yeah. So what if I am?"

"Who's following you? And where have you been?" Buffy pressed him for information. It could be important.

"If you're just dying to know about the amazingly interesting things that happen in my life, then I'll tell you," Spike replied flippantly. "I was up north. It's beastly hot here in the summer, or hadn't you noticed."

"Enough with the commentary, I haven't got all night," the petite blond snapped.

"Oh, snippy aren't we. The bitch afraid she'll whelp outside? You look about ready to drop right here."

"Get on with it!" Only Willow's hand on her shoulder kept Buffy from staking the smart aleck right there.

Spike backed up a step, grinning. "Well, while I was up there, these guys started asking around; recruiting. Don't know what for. When I decided it would be better to clear out, they started following me."

"Who's they?" Buffy tried to reign in her temper.

"Don't know, ducks." He took a long drag on his cigarette. "But I'd be careful if I were you. They mean business. Everyone was seriously afraid of getting messed up with them, and even more so of resisting." He flicked the last soot to the ground and stomped it out. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got someone to evade for another couple of hours." He paused and looked Buffy over up and down, very slowly. "Maybe it's a good thing Peaches left. I can just imagine what he'd say if he saw you all knocked up. You look just ducky you know. Waddling and all."

"Damn you, Spike!" Buffy grabbed the stake from Willow and stalked forward.

A little unnerved, the vampire jumped backwards, away from the hormone ravaged Slayer. She was quite a sight, stake in hand, hair blown by the wind, and a good twenty pounds heavier. Her ice cream had fallen to the ground, forgotten in her rage.

"I'll just be going," he pretended to keep his cool. Buffy could see right through the act though. "Just be careful," he said before melting back into the night as fast as he could.

Buffy stopped, huffed, and lowered the stake. "I hate him!" Her voice nearly broke as a tear trickled down her cheek.

"Buffy," Willow came up and pried the stake out of her friend's clenched fist. "He's gone. We should go too. You know, and call Giles. He'll wanna know. And you're stressed."

Finally the Slayer looked at her friend. She couldn't believe she'd let Spike's taunts get to her that much. Was that what the others thought too? Of course not, she had to tell herself firmly. Spike's just a jerk. "You're right, Will. Let's go home."

Her friend looked concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Buffy wiped the trickle of tears off on her sleeve. The vampire's words echoed in her mind, though. I can just imagine what he'd say if he saw you all knocked up. Without a glance at the fallen ice cream, she continued toward the apartment.

What would Angel think if he knew? Would he be disappointed? Angry? Or would he be glad he had left? And why couldn't she convince herself that Angel's opinion of her didn't matter? Because he loves you, came the unbidden reply. That's why he left.

"But was this what he wanted?" Buffy asked out loud to her wallpaper. She didn't think so. He would probably be ashamed that she had made such a mistake. He didn't even like Riley. He'd probably think I'm a complete loser. Especially when I didn't apologize to him when he said he was sorry. He didn't even do anything.

Gently she eased herself down on the bed, ignoring the ache in the small of her back and focused fully on the nagging guilt she felt. She deserved it for her childish and selfish outburst in LA. Angel had done nothing to incur her wrath. It had been entirely her selfish pride, and anger at seeing him hug Faith. Betrayal had filled her at that moment, and jealousy. Jealousy that Faith was in those wonderful arms instead of her. The last time she had been in those arms....

Funny, it didn't feel like two years ago had been the last time. She could distinctly remember the feel of his strong arms, and the press of wood into her back. How strange, she thought. My mind must be making things up. Angel and I never did it on a table. Now, with Riley on the other hand...

A strong kick in the belly brought her out of her pensive mood. She smiled slightly and placed one hand over the left side of her stomach, where the now confirmed boy had woken up. "Aren't you the athletic one," she chuckled softly. Even though she was huge, and twenty-three pounds heavier than her preferred weight, the magic of the babies inside her could still make the college girl feel that all of the discomfort was worth it in the end. The boy kicked again. "No playing soccer in the house," Buffy told him firmly. The kicking softened to squirming and taps. "That's better." Then the other side of her stomach started wiggling. "You woke up your sister," she admonished her son. The left side moved again. "I'll take that as an apology," Buffy smiled. "And look at me. I must be nuts. I'm talking to my stomach."

Several angry jabs met that remark. Buffy chuckled and ran her hand soothingly over her swollen abdomen. "All right, I'm sorry. How about a story?"

The kicking stopped.

"Good then," Buffy reached down and plucked a children's book from the small collection that had grown in corner by her bed. "Once upon a time, there was a toy maker..."

Go to Part Seven