SERIES: Nobility #3

AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue

E-MAIL: tisatko@msn.com

DISCLAIMER: I am not Joss. Never have been; never will be.

RATING: NC-17, overall.

PAIRINGS: S/Dawn; A/W; G/Gabriella; more.

DISTRIBUTION: if you have other fic of mine, you can have this, too. Also, MY site!!!

FEEDBACK: would be nice, I think.

DEDICATIONS: Jeannette and Nat, for the site; everyone who likes this series and bothered to tell me so. Thanks!!!

NOTES: Okay, it's 2007. Dawn lives in New Orleans, because that's where Giles moved after adopting her. She's with Spike. The entire LA crew is in N.O., too, except Cordy, who's on her way. A certain prophecy has made something rather unlikely clear to Spike and Angel, and their respective Mates. * *= emphasis.

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They sat at the end of the bar, only the sharp wooden corner keeping them from being beside each other. But that was fine, as they'd never truly been comfortable with that sort of closeness. Not that they hadn't-- at various points in their lives-- been incredibly close, but... not the kind of close that they'd think nothing of their legs brushing lightly, their hands 'accidentally' touching as they reached for their drinks. No, that sort of 'closeness' hadn't existed between them for well over a century, and they were both glad of it. Their Mates wouldn't understand, after all, if they'd given serious thought to returning to their original relationship. So they didn't, and neither of them regretted that in the slightest.

Their conversation was easy and simple, for the most part, rehashing events long past with an almost wistful air. Nights in London, and Belfast. Parties they'd attended, the two females they'd cared for by their sides. Mornings spent in hurried passing as they sought refuge from a sun too hot, too intense, too dangerous for them. Women they'd 'known', during the times Darla and Dru had run off to do 'girl things', although those times were few and far between, mostly due to the fact that the blonde woman had had very little tolerance for the poor, insane girl.

Los Angeles was discussed, as was Chicago, and talk turned, eventually, to Slayers they'd known. One Slayer in particular, whom they had both loved.

"I don't know, Angel," Spike said quietly, draining the beer in front of him while gesturing for another. He smirked slightly at the bartender's skeptically raised eyebrow, and laughed when she shook her head in amazement. Apparently the girl was surprised by the tolerance for alcohol he and his Sire were displaying. "I mean," he went on, getting back to the subject at hand, "Before she died? I felt like... Fuck, I guess I felt like... maybe, if she could love me back, then the chip wouldn't matter, you know?" He took a long sip of the fresh drink, and shook his head. "But she couldn't. I didn't understand why until much later, though."

Angel nodded sadly, well into his tenth draught. "The same reason, I'll bet. The demon."

The black-haired vampire sighed, and glanced at the bigger man from the corner of his eye. "That, too," he admitted, "But mostly? Mostly, it was that I wasn't you. I hated it. Hated *you*, for a while there. Figured she'd gone and fallen for one demon; what the hell was the big deal about loving another. But," he shrugged slightly, "In the end... I just wasn't you. Didn't stop me from loving her, though. Didn't keep me from wanting to be worthy of her, either."

The one-time Scourge of Europe sighed and motioned for another drink. "Hell, boy, even *I* wasn't 'me'. Or not the me she *thought* I was. And... honestly, she wasn't exactly who I thought *she* was." He sighed again, running one big, manicured hand through his hair. "Do you know," he continued, not looking at his childe as he spoke the words for the very first time, "I think... I think I was with her... because she *was* the Slayer. Because a part of me figured she was strong enough-- hard enough-- to handle what being involved with one of us can be like?" He swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a moment as he pictured the little blonde who he'd once been with. "I'm not saying I didn't love her. I did. Or as much as I could love anyone, back then, but... Willow."

The formerly blond man forced his sudden anger aside, and made himself consider what his maker was saying. Time changed everyone, he knew; even immortal beings who didn't age. *He'd* certainly changed, and yes, it was mostly due to the chip in his skull, or was it? Well, it was to the extent that his inability to feed on humans had made him reliant upon them. He'd been forced into interacting beyond the 'come here, my little happy-meal' stage, and... He'd learned that William the Bloody wasn't really that different from William the Bloody Awful Poet. New accent, new fashion sense, entirely new vocabulary, but... He'd been driven-- as a human and as a vampire-- to fit in amongst his own kind. The chip had made it impossible for him to be admired and envied by his fellow demons, much as his Sire's soul had done for the older vamp. Yes, he told himself, he understood. Loving Buffy had been a stepping stone for Angel.

His childe's silence was worrisome; if only because he'd been expecting the boy to explode. Spike had loved the Slayer, as well, after all, and if he really thought her feelings for *him* were the reason she'd ignored the then-blond vampire's feelings, the lad should have broken out in homicidal impulses. But he hadn't. Not that that was a problem, in and of itself. No, the *real* problem was that... a silent Spike was generally a *plotting* Spike, and whatever happened? Angel was pretty sure he'd not only be on the receiving end, but deserve it, too. He swallowed hard again, trying to find something to say, only to be stunned by his boy's next words.

"Yeah," Spike mused, "Willow. I guess I get that, mate. Buffy showed you the beginnings of what could be. It was Willow who showed you the reality, right?" He almost felt like he was betraying the late Slayer's memory with the words, but... He'd been telling the truth when he'd confessed to Dawn. He'd loved Buffy, but... he'd never been in love with her. The two were completely different things. "Like Dawn's done for me," he murmured, mostly to himself.

Spike knew, and understood? How was that even possible, he wondered. Still, it was apparently the case, and Angel vowed to himself that he'd stop expecting his childe to act like the vampire he'd been even three years earlier. That Spike-- freshly moved to Chicago, newly drafted to the Powers' cause-- would have gone ballistic at the very notion that Buffy had been less than a perfect Goddess, regardless of the amount of time he'd spent bashing her personality, intelligence, and even her looks. His boy had loved the girl, but apparently... not as much as they'd both thought. "Huh?" he said, disgusted with his own lack of verbal acuity.

The look of annoyance on his Sire's face was beyond amusing, especially since Spike could tell the older vamp meant it for himself. Still, it was a question, and maybe trying to answer it would clear a few things up in his own mind, so he chuckled and waved for the bartender again, fingers indicating four beers this time. He didn't particularly want to be interrupted, after all. It was the first time he'd had a real 'talk' with Angel in years, and surprisingly, the mighty pouf wasn't being a great prancing git about it. "Buffy," he began, starting on the first of his fresh beers, "Was amazing. A true Slayer. Had the moves, and the strength, and the heart to get the job done. She was smarter than any of us gave her credit for-- even you, you prat. Couldn't have been easy to come up with all those witty one-liners on less than a moment's notice, right?" He nodded definitively, draining his glass suddenly. "Unfortunately, she *was* the job, wasn't she? It hardly left her time to just... be a girl, did it? And then there was... *you*."

That one sentence was enough to have Angel imitating his childe's drink order, and once they'd arrived, he nodded sadly. "Me."

"You. Dark, and dangerous, and *exactly* the wrong bloke for her. Part of the reason she was so determined to have you, I suspect. Knew it would give the Watcher the creeping horrors, you know?" The black-haired vamp nodded again. "She loved you, though. With that kind of obsessive, possessive need that's only seen in teenaged girls. And vampires, of course. But you had a *soul*. You weren't 'evil'. Made her think you were a man, it did. And you weren't."

Angel sighed one more time, vowing it would be the last. "You could say that..."

Spike smirked slightly, starting his next beer. "No, I *did* say that. So, she loved you, and you-- in your oddly juvenile way-- loved her. Only problem was... a vampire, in love with a Slayer? How the fuck could you ever think *that* would work?" Spike sighed himself, cursing silently that the great pouf had managed to infect him with that 'boo-hoo, poor me' sound. "But that's neither here nor there, because... I was even worse. I got chipped, got all 'friendly' with that little pack of humans, and went falling for the same girl *you* loved! Followed her around all puppy-like, hung on her every word; hell, I even *lurked* in my attempt to be 'good' enough for her! And all the while? There was Dawn, and I couldn't see her for the li... well, I was going to say 'for the life of me', but..." he shrugged. "Didn't even know I gave a rat's ass about her 'til I woke up in her bed, with a hangover you wouldn't *believe*. Didn't want to think it was so, but..." he shrugged yet again. "Some part of me reveled in finally being by her side. I'm guessing it was the same for you, but with Willow."

A loud laugh burst from his lips, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Trust his childe to put something so amazing into such simple words. Still, "Yeah, except for the being in her bed and hungover parts." His smile turned tender as his mind turned inwards, and his eyes softened at the memory. "She walked into the hotel, and... I just *knew*. Her eyes, her hair, her skin even... I just knew I couldn't let her leave. Ever." A small tinge of wickedness leaked into his expression, and he chuckled, just a bit darkly. "I confused the hell out of her for the first month she was there; she kept thinking I'd gotten all 'Angelus-y' on her..."

Spike rolled his eyes, having heard it all before. "Yeah, Peaches, and then the Prom Queen had to go spoiling all your fun, telling the little witch about the Powers securing your soul. I know. Still, you got the girl in the end, didn't you?" It took him a second or two to realize just why his Sire was scowling at him, but then he laughed. "Didn't mean it like *that*, you great wanker!"

Angel grinned sheepishly. "Sorry," he said, picking up the last of his four beers. "Time was.."

The younger man snorted loudly. "Time was, I wouldn't have been sitting here with the great sodding prick who *made* me, wondering just how long it takes to buy stuff!"

His childe was entirely right, and he knew it. Still, "We're Mated to the two most incredible women ever. They *love* us, Gods know why, *and* they're somehow pregnant, even though we're *dead*. If it takes them all night to buy whatever they're shopping for, well... We're still pretty much the luckiest vampires ever, aren't we?" he murmured, sipping slowly at his glass.

Spike grinned almost entirely happily. "You got *that* right, mate." He still wished his woman would finish with whatever she and Willow were off doing, though. Not that he was bored, but... he'd been apart from her for almost four hours, and it was making him twitchy.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dawn giggled wickedly at Willow's enormous bag from the small store on Bourbon Street. Considering the way the older woman had looked at her-- stunned, shocked, and a little bit *freaked*-- when she'd dragged her inside, the witch had recovered remarkably well. She wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to know exactly what the redhead had in mind for many of the items she'd purchased, though, because much as she loved Angel and Willow both, the very idea of then actually *using* any of those things was just... gross. Kind of like the way she didn't think about what Gabby and Giles got up to together. Some things were just too traumatic. "So," she said, as they stepped onto the street, "I guess now you know 'why I dragged you into that kind of a place'..."

Willow grinned, her eyes darkening slightly in anticipation. "Oh, yeah," she allowed, sounding just a bit wicked, "But... are you sure that little outfit doesn't make my butt look too big?"

The blonde girl giggled again. "Will! You could tape basketballs to your ass and it wouldn't look too big! Well, okay, it would, but come on!" She chuckled one more time before suddenly sobering. "What about what I bought? It doesn't make me look... I don't know... Like I'm playing 'porn-y dress-up' with my mother's clothes?" The sudden scared expression on her friend's face made her re-evaluate her words. "Not that my Mom ever... and ewww..."

The redhead shuddered dramatically, and threw an arm around her young friend's shoulders. "But that's not the worst part, Dawny," she said. "Just think about it... First off, we don't have that long to *wear* these things before we're both big as houses. And secondly? Once we have these kids, and get our *real* bodies back? *We're* gonna be the 'Moms', and our kids'll shudder just like *we* just did!"

Dawn suddenly groaned, realizing the truth of the witch's words. "Oh, Gods! I'm gonna be *Mom*?" She stopped in her tracks, trying to process that little blow to her ego. "Will... will Spike still want me?" she asked, in a very small voice.

Willow could have cursed herself for forgetting how new Dawn's Mating with the formerly-blond vampire was, but... the girl was so very self-assured about everything else, it was *easy* to forget, after all. "Honey," she said, honestly, "Spike would still want you if you were three feet tall and covered in warts. He loves you, Dawny. Nothing's gonna change that." She grinned then, and increased the pressure of her one-armed hug. "Not even the great big belly you're gonna have from making his baby, dearest. Or the morning sickness-- hell, he'll probably be trying to hold your *hair* back every day. He'll rub your stomach, and massage your feet when they swell, and..."

"Hey!" the Key broke in, "You're *supposed* to be making me feel *better* here!" Her stern expression lasted for all of a second and a half before she dissolved in giggles right there on the street. "If he does all of that, I'm going to kill him," she admitted. "I love him, but... I'm not *about* to let him crawl up my ass for the next nine months, and *stop* *that*!" she demanded, well aware of what was running through the redhead's mind, "That's not what I *meant*!"

The witch sniggered and rolled her eyes, even as she pulled the girl around the corner. She could feel her Mate nearby-- at the bar they'd left him and his childe at-- and she could *also* feel that he'd had enough to drink that he wouldn't feel her approach. "Shhhh...." she hissed, moving slowly towards the slatted floor-to-ceiling windows that served occasionally as extra doors for the Alibi Bar.

Dawn's eyes were just as wide as Willow's as they listened to their Mates talk about Buffy, then about *them*. She was almost pissed off when she heard what they said about her sister, but... it had all been so long ago for her, and... she supposed she understood. They *were*, after all, looking back from a distance of a few years. Feelings changed, and it was just natural that their psyches would convince them that their feelings had been less than they'd really been. It didn't matter, she supposed. She loved Spike; he loved her. They were Mated, and bound by a God. He was hers, no matter what, and... Sad as it still made her, Buffy was dead. Yes. He was hers.

She could see a possessiveness similar to her own in Dawn's eyes, and she exchanged one short glance with the younger girl before they both nodded. It was time to claim their men and take them home-- Willow back to the hotel, and Dawn to the room she shared with her love. The redhead almost laughed at the way the blonde moved in concert with her, but... They were through the door, their bags suddenly on the floor, and... "Hey, baby," she murmured against her Mate's strong back, her arms tight around his waist.

Dawn's intention had been to take her love in a similar fashion to Willow's hold on Angel, but he surprised her by spinning on his barstool and pulling her between his legs. "Spike..!" she cried, a small laugh in her voice that died quickly from the heat in his eyes.

"Missed you, pet," he announced, a slight bit of growl in his voice. "Spent all this time talking to the Pouf, when all I could think of was taking you home, and..." A wicked light started in his eyes, and he pulled her hard against him. "I have *plans* for you, love," he elaborated, "But they don;t involve all of sodding Bourbon Street."

"We're on Iberville, Spike," Angel said smugly, turning around to tug his own Mate to his suddenly aching body.

The black-haired vampire rolled his eyes. "Like I *give* a fuck about what street we're on, mate," he snarled. "I'm more interested in the smell of leather and lace coming from those bags... Somebody got me a prezzie?" he added hopefully, "Maybe something to look at before ripping off?"

Willow giggled softly as Dawn pulled away from her vampire and dragged him to the door, an impatient 'Later' being the only word of farewell. She smiled up into Angel's dark eyes, and snuggled closer to him, her flat stomach against his groin. "Maybe we should go, too?" she said hopefully, her smile growing wider at his growled agreement. She reached out for the last bit of beer in his glass, only to have him slap her hand away softly. "Angel...?"

"No alcohol, Will," he ordered, even as he pulled her tempting heat closer to his cool, aching body. "It's bad for our child." He frowned slightly at her suddenly woeful expression. "Willow?" He hadn't thought she cared that much for the taste,but... "is that going to be a problem...?"

"Huh? No!" she answered swiftly, her fingers moving slowly up and down his spine. "I'm just... It wasn't quite *real* to me until just now... You know? I mean, I *knew*, in my head, but..." Her initial wonder at the news returned, and her entire body glowed with the truth of it. "I'm... We're having a baby..."

Angel laughed softly, all his delight clear in the sound. "Yeah, baby," he told her quietly, his voice barely detectable under the loud voice of Tom Waits wailing 'Heart Attack and Vine' on the jukebox. "We're having a baby... the two of us. Together." His forehead dropped to hers, and he gazed happily into her eyes. "I love you, Will," he whispered, and he swallowed hard when she licked her lips. "I love you, and as soon as I pay my bar tab? I'm going to take you back to our room and make love to you until the sun comes up."

His wicked little grin was enough to have her panting against him. When it was added to the feeling of him holding her so tightly, it was all she could do not to throw him onto the pool table in the center of the small bar and... "Hurry," she demanded, gratified by the speed with which he complied. Even her lustful haze didn't blind her to his half-amused growl, though. "What?" she said, breathlessly.

The dark vampire pushed himself from his stool, making sure to keep his woman pressed tightly to him the whole time. "Nothing important," he said, leaning down a bit to kiss her softly, "Just my boy. Left me with the check again."

Willow smiled. "Well, he's still Spike, after all..."

Angel growled again, a bit more loudly. "I don't want to talk about Spike," he informed her; "In fact, I don't want to talk at all..." He stopped whatever she was going to say next by the simple expedient of covering her mouth with his own, and when he finally pulled away, he was thrilled by what she *did* say.

"Hotel. Now." Fortunately, she thought, her mate was used to those kinds of demands from her. Used to them, and always pleased to fulfill them. "Love you, Angel," she whispered into his ear as he carried her the few blocks to their hotel.

"You, too, Heart; more than anything..." he murmured back, amused by the fact that no-one on the street was paying any attention to them. Apparently there were more interesting things to look at in New Orleans than a vampire carrying his pregnant Mate down the street with the goal of loving her unconscious. "I think I like it here," he added as he felt her teeth nipping gently at the slight scar she'd given him, which was growing more clear and more permanent every time she bit him. "Oh, yeah," he sighed, his feet moving quickly across the lobby floor, "I *definitely* *like* *it* here..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Cordelia sighed quietly, not wanting to wake the little girl sleeping in her arms. It had taken far too long to get a flight out of LAX, and when she finally had, the plane had been delayed for takeoff, then had had to circle in New Orleans. But they were finally down, and... she was beat.

Still, that wasn't a good enough reason to wake her daughter. If Lexi woke now, she'd be up all night. So Cordy toughed it out, collecting their two small bags as quietly as possible in the bustle of an international airport, even if it *was* almost midnight.

Fortunately, she knew exactly which hotel to find the rest of the team at, and she'd been able to reach David Nabbit's mistress. Lina'd sworn she'd pass the message on, so at least she knew she had a room for the night.

She'd deal with the vision that had brought her in the morning. At the moment, the important thing was to keep her child asleep.

Cordelia sighed one more time, even as she found her way to the cab stand. Once she actually *got* a taxi-- and had given the name of the hotel as her destination-- she relaxed in the back seat, watching her daughter sleep. The girl's father wasn't reflected much in her features, but... that was probably all to the good. Not that she hadn't *loved* him, because she definitely *had*, but... "Some day, Lexi," she murmured softly, "Some day you'll know who you are. Where you come from. I'll tell you; I swear." It wouldn't be an easy conversation, but thankfully, it was a long way off.

End-- pt 2

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