Spike resolutely kept his eyes on the paperwork in front of him, refusing to look up. “Please, Will.”

“Emmie—” he warned. ‘Don’t look up,’ he told himself silently. ‘Beware the eyes.’ He was a tough guy, and he still retained most of the characteristics of the Big Bad. There wasn’t much on the planet that phased him; he’d already died after all. But as Dawn had often accused him, he was a softie when it came to certain people, and he would do anything for any one of “his” girls.

“Please.” The naked pain in her tone had him looking up to meet her big brown eyes, and he was lost. Spike sighed. The puppy-dog eyes had won again.

“Look, pet,” he said patiently. “I can’t always step in when you and Angel have a disagreement. It’s not healthy.”

Emmie knew she’d won. He was definitely caving. “It’s not so much a disagreement as much as it is that he just won’t talk to me. Angel’s been brooding non-stop for the last two weeks, and he’s driving everyone, including me, crazy.” She plopped down in the chair across from him. “I just don’t know what to do,” she confessed. “I could threaten to leave, but…”

“But you don’t want to have to carry out the threat,” Spike finished for her. He had definitely been there. And Emmie was right, Angel had been brooding for the last two weeks, which meant he was functional, but not much fun to be around. To be fair, she wasn’t the first person who had asked him to have a word with the boss. Gunn had been in earlier that morning, and he was fully expecting Wesley to come by later in the afternoon. Even Ty had said yesterday that someone needed to pull his uncle’s head out of his arse. Spike had disciplined him for his language, but had to agree with his son. He just didn’t see why he had to be the one to do it.

As though she’d read his mind, Emmie continued. “It’s just that you and Angel are close, Will. Maybe not like best friends or anything, but you understand him better than the rest of us can. And you’re the only one with a prayer of beating some sense into that thick head of his.”

“I think Buffy would argue with that,” Spike disagreed mildly. “I’ll talk to him, Emmie. But I’m serious. I can’t step in every time you two have a hard time communicating. You’re going to have to learn how to talk to each other.”

“We do talk,” she protested. “But we’re coming up on our two year anniversary, and I’m just worried—”

“He’s not thinkin’ of leavin’ you, luv,” Spike said instantly. “Peaches is still head over heels, trust me. I’ll figure it out, or at least get him to talk to you.”

“Thanks,” the young Slayer said gratefully. “I’ll owe you one.”

“You’ll owe me several,” he called after her as she dashed out of the room. He sighed again. He’d never liked confronting the great poof when he was being especially poofish. Getting Angel out of a bad mood typically involved pain on someone’s part, but he hated to see Emmie miserable. And much like his own Slayer, she was particularly vulnerable when it came to relationships, having had so few good ones in the past.

“Hey.” Spike looked up to see Buffy standing in the doorway, smiling at him.

“’ey, yourself, luv,” he said, coming from around his desk to greet her with a thorough kiss.

When she finally pulled back from him, there was a slightly glazed look to her eyes. “Mmm. I should leave more often.”

“Absolutely not,” he said, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. “Miss you too much.”

“Well, that goes for me too,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. “Unfortunately, duty sometimes calls me away. I think you should come with me next time, though. Think about how much fun we could have in Europe.”

“And all the things I could teach the Council,” he teased.

Buffy smirked. “I’d love to see the looks on their faces. Some of them would flip to meet the former William the Bloody.”

“What do you mean, ‘former?’” he said in mock protest. “’m still the scourge of L.A., you know.”

“That’s right. You’re so scary you couldn’t tell Emmie that you weren’t going to get involved,” Buffy replied in amusement.

Spike sighed. “You heard that, did you?”

“Ran into her in the hall,” the Slayer admitted. “Spike, I thought we talked about the whole non-involvement thing. Healthy relationships, etc.”

He shook his head. “Emmie wasn’t the only one up here today, pet,” he stated. “Gunn’s been after me to talk to him too, and even Ty’s noticed his mood. To be honest, ‘m about that close to bangin’ his head into the wall till he gets some sense knocked into him.”

Buffy frowned. “He hasn’t gotten any better in the last week?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Worse, actually.”

She paused for a minute and then conceded. “You’d probably bettter talk to him then,” she admitted. “It’s not just a lover’s quarrel at this point.”

“Why me?” he demanded.

“Because it’s your duty as his second-in-command. And he’s family.”

It was logical. Spike hated logical. “Bugger family,” he muttered.

~~~~~

Wesley stuck his head inside Spike’s door. “Do you have a minute, William?”

“Sure, come on in,” the former vampire said, resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to have any peace at all until he talked with their boss.

“I’ve been wanting to ask if you would talk to Angel,” Wes said without preamble, sitting down across from him. “I tried talking to him myself the other day and got nowhere.”

Spike grimaced. “Was plannin’ on talkin’ to him tonight, maybe askin’ him to go out hunting or something.” He glared at his friend. “You do understand the sacrifice this is, don’t you? Buffy just got back today.”

Wesley winced. “Quite. It’s just that—”

“Say no more,” Spike said. “You’re the third person who’s asked me to say something to him today.”

“Do you think it’s something I’ve done?” Wesley asked quietly.

Spike looked surprised. Wesley was almost always the most self-assured one of the bunch anymore, though he’d heard stories of a time when he was a bit more insecure. “What on earth would that have been?”

“It’s just that the beginnings of his depression coincide with our—mine and Fred’s—announcement. It seems a little too much of a coincidence.” Wesley looked worried, and Spike sat back in his chair thoughtfully. The other man was right, now that he thought about it, and it was a better explanation than the others he’d considered.

“Angel’s happy for the both of you,” Spike assured him. “An’ the rest of us are all lookin’ forward to havin’ another little one runnin’ around the place. But—”

“But it may have reminded Angel of what he can’t have,” Wes said heavily, pulling off his glasses and running a hand over his face. “Lord knows I never thought to be a father, and this was a surprise to both of us, but I never wanted to hurt him.”

“Wesley,” Spike said firmly. “This isn’t about Angel. This is about you an’ Fred bein’ happy and havin’ a baby. There’s nothin’ wrong with that. I’ll talk to him. If that’s what’s bothering him, he’ll just have to get over it.”

~~~~~

They perched on the rooftop, looking down into the alley, a well-known haunt of the worst kind of bloodsuckers. “Quiet tonight,” Spike commented.

Angel grunted a reply.

“Not much goin’ on.”

“Why are we here, Spike? And don’t tell me Ty had a vision.” Angel didn’t even bother looking over at him, and the smaller man grimaced. It was going to be one of those nights.

“He didn’t.” He looked over at his grand-sire and wished once again that he could have shoved this duty off on someone else. Angel was the only one of the old crowd who called him Spike. Things had gotten pretty strained between the two of them after he’d gotten his memories back and Angel had anchored his soul. It didn’t make much sense, really. There should have been enough happiness to go around. But Spike had never completely worked through his resentment of Angelus, and Angel had never quite gotten over his hatred of the young vampire who had made his unlife as miserable as possible.

Really, there had been harm on both sides, but Angel hadn’t had to deal with the old Spike, and Spike had been William for eight years—sans all real memory of Angelus. The tension had built up over a period of weeks until they’d had a truly glorious screaming match, followed by a spectacular fist-fight, and then a bottle of scotch spent in mutual reminiscing. When they had gotten home, it had been nearly dawn, and both Emmie and Buffy were completely disgusted. On the other hand, after they’d gotten over their hangovers, things had been much better between the two of them. Buffy had been right about one thing: they were more like brothers than they ever had been in the past at this point.

“Emmie’s upset,” Spike finally said. “She wanted me to talk to you. And Wes and Gunn both were askin’ me to figure out what’s wrong. Even Ty’s noticed your bad mood. So you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Angel straightened and stalked away from the edge of the roof. Spike was never one to give up easily once he’d started something.

He grabbed Angel’s arm and forced him to turn around. “Is this about Wes and Fred’s little announcement?” he demanded, going straight for the throat.

Angel pulled away impatiently. “Of course not.” There was a long pause. “I’m happy for them.”

“Good,” Spike said, anger touching his tone. “Because you’re makin’ our lives miserable. You got something to find fault with, then come out with it. Otherwise, get over it, Angel.”

Angel shook his head. “Emmie’s so good with kids. You’ve seen her with Ty. You know. How can I ask her to give that up?”

The younger man’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t even tell me that you’re thinkin’ what I think you’re thinkin’. Angel, Emmie knew what she was getting herself into. Bloody hell, man, she loves you!”

Angel sat down, leaning his back against the ledge. “I can’t give her what she needs.”

“Who are you to decide what she needs?” Spike demanded. He sat down next to Angel. “Look, Emmie’s young yet. She might not even be thinkin’ about that right now. Besides, there’s other ways of getting kiddies, Peaches. Plenty of people out there who can’t have their own. ‘s not like you don’t have options.”

“What?” Angel snorted. “Like adoption?”

“Worked for me, didn’t it?” Spike asked quietly.

Angel looked over at him in surprise. “Ty’s yours, Spike.”

“Yeah, because I said so. But it’s the same thing as adoption.”

“No,” Angel shook his head. “I had a paternity test done a few months ago. I wanted to be sure there wouldn’t be any problems in the future, just in case somebody tried to claim him. I had the test done three times, and it came out the same every time. He’s yours by blood.”

Spike stared at him, half in anger, half in disbelief. Angel had said nothing to him about the tests. But it wasn’t possible—“I was dead, or dying, when Erin conceived,” he protested. “You know that.”

Angel shrugged. “I know, but it doesn’t seem to have mattered in this case. He’s yours, Spike. You said that Erin didn’t remember much about it. Maybe the Powers had something they needed Ty for. It’s not much stranger than you being brought back from the dead, or even two vampires having a son.”

‘Ah,’ Spike thought. ‘So that’s what this is about.’

“Nevermind Ty,” Spike said aloud. “Though we will have words later about not telling me ‘bout that blood test. This is about Connor, isn’t it?”

“Forget it,” Angel said, rising to leave.

Spike shook his head. “Not so fast, Angel. You can’t blame Wes for what happened. He doesn’t even remember it.”

“I know that,” Angel hissed. “Spike, he was my son. Mine. I want—”

Spike looked at his sire with a great deal of compassion. “You want what you can’t have,” he said softly. “Angel, Emmie loves you. Your soul’s anchored. You’ve got friends and family that love you. You keep this up, you could lose all that, and then where will you be?” Angel buried his face in his hands. “Look, talk to Emmie ‘bout this. Take my advice, an’ tell her about Connor. Figure out what she wants. Maybe she doesn’t want kids of her own, and maybe the two o’ you could adopt.”

“I’m a vampire, Spike,” Angel said. “Vampires don’t adopt.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Git. You’re the head of a multi-million dollar corporation. You can do whatever you damn well please. Talk to Emmie, Angel. She’s thinkin’ you might not love her anymore.”

“But, I—”

“Don’t tell me, Peaches. Tell Mary Elizabeth,” Spike instructed gently. “And do me a favor. Don’t make me have to have a heart to heart with you again.”

~~~~~

“And he was sure?” Buffy asked quietly.

They had just spent the last few hours making up for being away from each other for the last few days, and Spike was filling her in on what Angel had told him. “He said he’d had the test done three times, luv. But it’s impossible.” He paused. “An’ I’m still mad at him for doin’ it without tellin’ me.”

Buffy stroked his chest with a soothing hand. “I get why though, Spike. Ty’s really special, and if someone ever challenged your right to have him—it could get ugly. I’m sure Angel just wanted to be prepared to tamper with the evidence or something.”

“Yeah, but what does this mean?” he asked her, a plaintive note in his voice. “I mean, we knew I got brought back for him, but this is—”

“Scary,” she finished for him. “It means there’s even more to this than we thought. And Wesley hasn’t been able to find anything?”

Spike rolled over on his side so he could see her better. “No, but prophecies are notoriously unreliable. And—” he broke off.

“What?” When he remained silent, Buffy sat up to face him. “Spike, you have something face. You’re not hiding something from me, are you?”

He was torn. “Not exactly. ‘s not my secret to tell, pet,” he said slowly. “Let’s just say, there’s a particular prophecy that seemed to involve Angel, and it didn’t really get fulfilled in the way anyone might have expected.”

“Prophecies never get fulfilled in the way anybody expects,” Buffy said. “There’s a little more to it than that, isn’t there?”

Spike hesitated, and then nodded slowly. “Angel’s regrettin’ not bein’ able to give Emmie kids.”

Buffy’s eyebrows went up. “But Emmie knew that when she decided to be with him. He’s not actually thinking about leaving her, is he?”

“I don’t think so,” he said. “But he wants kids of his own, luv, and I can’t blame him. Fred bein’ pregnant just makes it that much more obvious what he can’t do.”

Buffy sighed and didn’t reply. She remembered very well why Angel had left all those years ago. It was long past now, and she didn’t regret it for a second while lying next to Spike, but she was afraid for Emmie, that Angel would decide to be all heroic again.

“What about you, Buffy?” Spike asked suddenly, a wistful note in his tone.

“What about me?” she asked in surprise.

He hesitated, and then took one of her hands in his. “Look, luv, ‘m not saying that I’m not happy, but have you ever thought about having, you know—”

“Kids of our own?” She looked at him tenderly. “We have Ty.”

He looked abashed, but pressed on. “I know, but I wouldn’t mind havin’ another one or two, you know. I wouldn’t even mind getting married.” This last was said quietly, and Buffy was silent for a long time, not knowing exactly what to say. Spike was the first guy to seriously bring up marriage or kids, as in wanting both with her, and a part of her wanted it. The other part was scared stiff.

“Spike—”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he said quietly. “Like I said, ‘m happy right now.”

“It isn’t that I don’t want to,” Buffy assured him. “Are you serious? I mean, really serious about this whole thing?”

“’Course,” he replied. “I love you. I don’t want to be with anybody else, ever. We’re both human, you love Ty, he loves you. There’s nothing standing in our way, Buffy.” Spike wasn’t trying to push her, but in his heart of hearts, there still lived the Victorian gentleman he had been. And that gentleman had been brought up to believe that marriage was the end goal.

Buffy looked into his eyes and suddenly wondered why she was having such a hard time deciding. He was right. There really wasn’t anything standing in their way. Maybe they hadn’t talked about it before, but it was more because they’d been content with what they’d had, not because she hadn’t wanted more someday. “I never thought I’d live long enough to make it worthwhile,” she confessed. “I don’t know, Spike. I haven’t really thought about it, but, yes. I would marry you. And I wouldn’t mind having a child, but I think I’d like to wait for a little while on that one.”

A smile grew on his face, dazzling in its brilliance. He gave her a hard kiss on the mouth and buried his face in her hair. “I love you.”

The Slayer held him close and wondered what she’d ever done to deserve him. “I love you, too, William.”

~~~~~

“Angel, talk to me,” Emmie pleaded. He’d come home from his meeting with Spike quiet and thoughtful, but she’d let him make love to her, even though she really would have rather talked first. She was so afraid that she was losing him. Angel had been distant the last two weeks, and had avoided her every attempt to draw him out. That had been the only reason she’d gone to William about it. Normally, she would have wanted to handle him herself, but that just wasn’t an option this time.

Angel rolled over to look at her, and he could see the fear Spike had told him about. Suddenly he felt bad for not coming to her sooner; he knew she was still insecure when it came to relationships. “I’m sorry, Emmie.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, suddenly angry. “Just tell me what’s going on.” She would have gotten up from the bed, but he tugged her back into his arms, needing to hold her, to feel her next to him.

“I can’t give you kids, sweetheart,” he said softly, knowing she would understand.

Emmie blinked, realizing immediately what this had all been about. “I knew that when I fell in love with you, Angel. I didn’t have to choose to be with you, you know. I could have left.”

“I know, but now that Fred is pregnant, it’s just—”

“It’s okay,” Emmie said softly. She twisted so that she could look him in the eye. “I’m only twenty-four, Angel. Barely. I have some time to make that decision, and there are options.”

“That’s what Spike said,” he muttered, somewhat sourly.

She chuckled. “Well, he was right.” Emmie reached up to caress his face. “There are other things to loving a vampire that I have to deal with, you know. You’ll stay young, even though I’ll grow old. I could get sick, and you won’t. I know all that, and I’m okay with it. But you can’t shut me out like that, Angel.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and stroked her hair tenderly. And then he showed her again just how much he loved her.

Ty’s voice progressed through the text slowly, but steadily, his young tongue tripping lightly over the Latin phrases. When he finished the paragraph, Wesley nodded encouragingly. “Excellent, Titus. And in English?”

“The Kraigorn beast makes its home in the deep places of the earth, making war at night—” he paused slightly. “Coming from the deep and dank.” Wesley waited a beat to see if he would catch his own mistake, and was not disappointed. “Not dank. Dry. Deep and dry.” Ty looked up to beam at his tutor.

“Very good, Ty. Very good indeed. I think that’s it for today.” Wesley watched the boy fondly as he stood to put the book away. The decision two years ago to take the boy out of public schools had turned out to be a good one. While he did most of his classes by satellite at this point, Wesley was still in charge of languages and magic, while everyone else took their turns teaching weapons and hand-to-hand. The nearly idle comment he’d made, almost five years ago now, about the asset he would be to the forces of good, was certainly proving to be more prophetic than he had meant. By the time he reached adulthood, Ty would have had more training than most Watchers or Slayers.

In many ways, Wesley’s relationship with the boy had settled many of his fears about becoming a parent before it was even a possibility. He knew now, perhaps, that he was not his father. “Have you finished the rest of your work?”

“Yeah, I finished hours ago,” Ty said easily.

Wes smiled. “Then I believe you’re free for the rest of the afternoon.”

Ty hesitated slightly, and then asked. “Uncle Wes? Would you come play darts with me? Please?”

“Darts?” Wes frowned. “What got you thinking about that?”

“It’s just that Dad was saying the other day how you can hit anything, and you’re almost the best shot he’s ever seen. And then he said you stole all his money playing darts. Would you teach me how to do that too?” Ty’s blue eyes looked pleadingly at his mentor, and Wesley could really find no good reason for saying no.

He had set up a dart board in his private office, where he spent little time. Wesley could most often be found in the archive room, reading documents, or possibly in the office of one of the other department heads. (Particularly the lab.) But his office was where he retreated when he needed to be alone, to think through some knotty problem, and to facilitate thought he’d put up the dart board. He found it relaxed him; and it was where William had lost most of his money recently. Wesley was indeed a very good shot.

Patiently he began explaining to Ty how to hold the dart, the way of flicking the wrist just right. “It’s not about hitting the bulls-eye,” he explained. “It’s about sending the dart where you want it to go.”

“Would you take me to the shooting range sometime too?” Ty asked innocently.

Wesley stared at him. “Certainly not without asking your father first, and probably not for a few years yet. What’s brought this on?”

Ty shrugged. “I’ve gotta know everything I can, Uncle Wes, because someday I’m gonna do what my dad does. And he had a really long time to learn everything.”

The older man’s face softened. It wasn’t hard to love this boy, really. He was so young, and yet so old for his age, already thinking of duty and necessity. He and William had often spoken of the fact that he seemed to have lost his childhood, that they might be depriving him of it by keeping him out of school, by teaching him what they were. And yet the visions had showed him from an early age all the bad things that could happen, the things the world must be protected from. Perhaps it wasn’t fair, but it was the way of things. “It’s our job to make sure you know what you must know, Titus,” Wesley said gently. “And you’re well on your way already.”

Wes directed the boy’s attention back to the dart board and was rewarded with Ty’s cheers and groans as the darts plunked into the cork. Well, at least mostly into the cork; the wall would certainly have a few new holes.

Ty’s grin grew huge when his dart hit the outer circle of the bulls-eye, partly through luck, and he turned to make sure his uncle had seen. What he saw, however, was not Wesley leaning casually against the large wooden desk, but his uncle laying quiet in a hospital bed. The room was darkened, and he could see the lights of the monitors blinking steadily at him. “Uncle Wesley?” he asked.

This Wesley’s eyes fluttered open, and Ty could see that he was older. His hair was almost entirely gray, and there were deep lines in his face that he’d never seen before. “Titus?”

“I’m right here, Uncle Wes. I’m not going anywhere.” The words came out of his mouth, but Ty was barely aware of even thinking before he spoke, and he suddenly realized that he was older in this vision as well. He was taller, for one thing, and the hand he held out was larger and rougher.

“It’s good to see you again.” The man in the bed coughed weakly. “I wanted to be able to say good-bye.” And then the monitors began to bleep frantically, and Ty panicked, unable to figure out what was going on, what was happening, except that his uncle was dying. He was—

“Titus!” Ty’s eyes suddenly focused on the clear blue eyes of a worried Wesley. He let out a startled sigh that quickly turned into tearful sobs.

“I’m sorry, Uncle,” he choked out. “I’m sorry.”

Wesley held the boy in his arms, trying to get him to calm down, but nothing was working. Whatever he had seen, Ty was inconsolable, and he cursed under his breath. He was grateful enough that the visions weren’t the physical burden on the child that they had been on Cordelia, but the emotional toll was sometimes much too high. After a few minutes, he rose, cradling Ty in his arms. It seemed only his father could comfort him when he was like this.

~~~~~

Spike looked at the clock longingly. It was 3:00, and he knew that Angel was with Gunn in

negotiations with an important client. On any other day he’d use the opportunity to sneak off and spend some quality time with Buffy and Ty. Today, however, he’d made an appointment for an interview to find a new director of Internal Security. If he’d only made it for earlier in the day…

He looked back down at the resume and cover letter, as well as the background check he’d had performed. The applicant, while young, seemed to have all the requisite education and experience. Bachelor’s degree from UCLA in Criminal Justice and Computer Science, he’d worked for a high-tech firm for the last six years developing security systems while assisting with government contracts for such agencies as the FBI, CIA, and NSA. And he was the best bet they had so far.

The background check had come out squeaky clean, as one might expect for someone with that kind of employment history. There was just one small detail: Spike knew he was missing something. Something was bothering him about this man, and he had no idea what it might be.

The intercomm beeped, and his secretary’s voice came through, letting him know his appointment was waiting for him. “Send him in,” he replied, and waited to see if he could put his disquiet to rest.

The man who entered looked to be in his late twenties, with shaggy brown hair and alert blue-green eyes. He moved gracefully, and Spike recognized in his movements an innate balance that spoke of a warrior’s skills. But his disquiet only grew; there was something familiar about his eyes, the chin, the slope of the shoulders. In fact, he looked like—

“Mr. Smith?” the man held out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Same here, Connor,” Spike replied, shaking the proferred hand and waving at the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.” And as he sat, it all came back to him.

They had spoken of it just a few days before, and Angel had been just as anguished, more than ten years later, as he had been that first night he’d told Spike of Connor. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t put the two together.

“Tell me a little about yourself and why you decided to apply at Wolfram & Hart,” he invited, desperately making a bid for time. Time to get himself under control and figure out what the bloody hell he was going to do. He couldn’t let Angel see him; he certainly couldn’t hire him. But the man was the first truly qualified candidate to cross his path, and he didn’t want to turn him away, dammit.

As Connor explained how he’d heard of the law firm, (an anonymous letter detailing the job offer) Spike recalled what he’d learned from the background check. Both parents dead in a freak accident two years after he’d started college. Two sisters, both in different parts of the country, none of them apparently close. A few close friends, no real romantic relationships. Dedicated to the job, whatever that might be at the time. Now Spike knew why he’d sounded so familiar; it wasn’t just the name, he was exactly like Angel.

“Tell me what you’d bring to the table that our other applicants might lack,” Spike said.

Connor hesitated. “I’ve heard about the kind of work you do,” he said. “And I know that you deal with some pretty strange stuff. I’ve done a few side jobs for people, and I can guarantee I’m in better physical shape and better equipped to deal with whatever you have to throw at me than anyone.”

“Is that right?” Spike asked, not doubting it for a minute, but playing the skeptic. “What does that mean?”

Connor swallowed. Hard. “That means I’m faster, stronger and more agile than just about anybody.”

Spike stared at him. He would be of course, with Angel and Darla as parents. Just because Angel had played around with the boy’s memories, as well as everyone else’s, it didn’t change the physical facts. How much to say, to reveal? Or should he complete the interview and let Connor walk away forever? That would certainly be the easiest solution, of course.

Suddenly the door burst open. “William, I’m sorry to bother you, but—”

Wesley held a still-crying Ty in his arms, and Spike knew what that meant. Another vision, and one so disturbing that he was the only one with any hope of calming his son. “Sorry, Connor,” he said. “I have to deal with this.” He looked from his old friend to Angel’s son and sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Connor, this is our head of Archives, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Wes, this is Connor. He’s interviewing for the internal security position.”

He went over the couch where Wes had deposited Ty and knelt next to him. “All right, Little Man,” he murmured. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. Just take a deep breath.” Spike watched as Ty struggled to obey him and ran one hand over the boy’s straight, dark hair. “That’s right, lad. Just breathe.”

When he had a little more control, Spike asked quietly. “What was it about, Ty?”

“Uncle Wes,” Ty said, his lip still trembling, his control obviously tenuous. “He was dying.”

Spike did his best to keep a poker face. That was not good news. “Tell me about it. Could you tell when it was?”

Ty shook his head. “But Uncle Wes was old, and it was in the hospital.” Wide blue eyes so much like his own pleaded with him to make it okay. “He was really sick, I think.”

Spike shared a half-relieved glance with Wesley, who looked a little shaken that it was his own death Ty had seen. They shouldn’t have been surprised, of course. While Ty typically had visions of the near-future, there had been a few flashes of the distant-future as well. It wasn’t so unlikely that he might see their deaths at some point.

Taking a deep breath, Spike looked deeply into his son’s eyes. Knowing of nothing else to say, and hating himself for what he was about to do, he said, “Everyone dies, Ty. If what you saw was in the distant future, there’s nothing we can do about it now. There’s probably nothing we would be able to do about it then. That’s just the way life is.” It wasn’t fair, Spike thought resentfully, as he saw Ty absorb what he was telling him and nod bravely. No ten-year-old should have to face the fact that his beloved uncle would someday die. He certainly shouldn’t have to see it in a vision years before it would ever happen.

“I know, Dad,” Ty said. He gave a shaky smile. “It just kind of freaked me out.”

Now Spike gathered his son into his arms and held him. “I know, Little Man. It would have freaked me out too.” As he released Ty, he saw him looking over at Connor, who had been watching the entire scene with more than a little puzzlement. Even as he opened his mouth to explain, Ty got a peculiar look on his face.

“Hello, cousin,” Ty said, standing and facing Connor. And then, in a voice that seemed to come both from him and somewhere else at the same time, he said, “You are your father’s son, and you will be a Champion.”

There was a long moment of silence after Ty had made his pronouncement, as the boy blinked and shook off whatever spell it had been. It certainly wasn’t one of his regular visions, and he seemed not to have even realized he’d done anything at all as he looked curiously from one man to another. William was more than a little stunned, and he could see that Wesley felt the same. There was, of course, no way he was going to let Connor go at this point, now that he seemed connected to Ty in some strange way. Thankfully, he was saved from having to deal with the implications immediately by Dawn’s entrance into the office.

“Spike!” she called. “I’m really sorry to burst in on you like this, but Buffy just called. She ran into some trouble on the training run, and she needs you now.”

All thoughts of what had just transpired disappeared from his mind as this new catastrophe revealed itself. And it was a catastrophe, of that he had no doubt. Buffy never called him in for backup like this unless something really bad had happened. “Fine,” he said, turning to look at Connor. “Do you want the job?”

The younger man blinked and then nodded slowly. “Yes sir, but—”

“You just got your first look at the strange happenings at Wolfram & Hart,” Spike said, with a touch of grim satisfaction. “Dawn, this is Connor, our new head of Internal Security. You’re in charge of him today and tomorrow, until I can get things straightened out. Dawn is Wesley’s second in the archives. Both of you are in charge of Ty until Angel can take him.” He then looked at Wes. “You ready for some action? Angel and Gunn are in negotiations.”

Wes’s eyes lit up. It was rare that he got to participate in the physical action anymore. “I’ll gather my things and meet you in the lobby.”

“Meet me in the garage,” Spike corrected him. “We’ll take one of the company cars.”

He might have asked Dawn to go along for the ride, but he needed someone to take care of both Connor and Ty. And it had been the work of a moment to let her know that Connor was to be given the grand tour, told to return tomorrow morning, and not, under any circumstances, was Angel to see him. Thankfully, all he’d gotten from that last instruction was a raised eyebrow, though he knew he’d be hearing about it later.

Wes was waiting for him, crossbow slung across one shoulder. Spike could see the bulge of twin guns under his jacket, and he raised an eyebrow. “You do know bullets don’t kill vampires, right?” he asked, amused.

“They’re new,” Wesley confessed. “Fred’s been working on bullets that contain wood. The casings are made of teak.”

“The hardest wood in the world,” Spike replied, understanding beginning to dawn. “And this is the first chance you’ve had to try them.”

Wes grinned happily. “Got it in one.”

Spike chose the Viper, wanting one of the faster cars. They had little to go on; Buffy had instituted the 911 signal about a year ago when she’d first begun having special “Slayer Training Seminars.” All it took was a couple pushes of a button and the signal got sent to the designee’s pager. Since the younger Summers was the one who wasn’t in meetings today, she got to be emergency-girl, and it was her job to round up help if something went wrong. This was the first time something had gone wrong.

“Do you know what Buffy and the others were supposed to be doing today?” Wesley asked.

Spike shook his head. “It was just supposed to be a few vamps. Certainly nothing they couldn’t handle.”

The other man considered that for a minute, and then looked over at Spike seriously. “What happened in your office, William?”

“I don’t know,” he replied truthfully. “Do you have any ideas?”

Wes hesitated, and then said quietly. “There was a prophecy I ran across a few weeks ago. It’s distantly related to the Shanshu prophecy, and I thought it might have something to do with Ty, since it talks about the son of the Phoenix. On the other hand, it names him as one of two ‘cousins,’ or sons of brothers, and I knew very well that you don’t have a brother.” When Spike didn’t immediately correct him, he continued. “The only person who might even come close to fitting that description would be Angel.”

“That would mean Angel would have to have a son,” Spike said evenly, hoping that nothing in his manner would give him away. He was a terrible liar, and Wesley was better than most at reading him anyway.

“It would,” Wes agreed, but he said nothing more for a long time. As they neared their destination, he finally spoke again. “I understand that there may be things you aren’t at liberty to share with me, Will. But should I have another look at that prophecy, or is it a dead end?”

Spike was silent, unsure of how to answer. Say one thing, and potentially important information could be lost. Say another, and Wes would know at least part of Angel’s secret. “Keep looking into it,” he said. “I think it might be important.”

“As you wish.” And Spike was grateful that Wesley trusted him enough at this point to let it go at that.

Seconds later they were at the warehouse that was supposed to have contained nothing but a few vampires. Neither man said anything; they had worked together for too long to need words before going into battle. They went around to the side entrance, Spike twirled his ax once before breaking the door in with one sharp kick. It didn’t take much force, and then he was inside, ax ready, Wesley covering him from behind with the crossbow.

Inside the warehouse was chaos. Spike could see Buffy battling a large demon off to his left, holding her right hand to her side, apparently hurt. The girl on the ground behind her was unmoving, and his Slayer was obviously trying to protect her. A quick look around showed a young Slayer fighting off about three vampires at once, and Emmie holding her own with a large demon. Spike immediately headed to the left, while Wesley went right. They both knew by now that Spike’s first priority would be to Buffy.

The ax, Spike’s favorite, was the twin of Gunn’s old one. Gunn had gotten tired of having Spike borrow his all the time, and had found someone to make him one exactly like it. It was razor sharp and perfectly balanced. Spike took off the demon’s head with one swipe of the ax and met Buffy’s gaze. “You alright, luv?”

She nodded breathlessly. “Help the others,” she commanded, kneeling down next to the fallen girl. A tree name, Spike remembered. Birch or something like that. Once he was certain she was fine, he turned to see the Slayer struggling with four vampires now, another couple having come from out of the woodwork. Wes had emptied his crossbow and both clips of the pistols. The demon hadn’t even slowed, and Spike called out to him. “Wes!” He sent the ax spinning end over end, and Wes snatched it out of the air. Deciding that the ax should be able to take care of it, he went to help the other Slayer with the vampires. Pulling a stake out of his belt where he’d stuck it earlier, he managed to dust two of them in two quick swipes. Taking care of half the problem allowed the girl, Kris, he remembered, to take out the last two.

Kris gave a sigh of relief and gave Spike a shaky smile. “Thanks,” she murmured.

“My pleasure, ducks,” he replied easily, turning to look for Wes and Emmie. Wesley was cleaning off the ax on the back of the demon. Buffy came up next to them, followed closely by the younger Slayer.

“Where’s Lena?” Buffy asked suddenly, her voice quiet.

Wesley straightened and tossed the ax back to Spike. “William.” Spike followed quickly. It didn’t take them long to find the body. Lena’s neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, her eyes wide open. The ex-Watcher knelt next to the body and tenderly shut the eyelids.

Spike heard a tear-filled gasp from behind him; one of the younger Slayers he was sure. And when he turned around he could see identical looks on Emmie and Buffy’s faces. Clenched jaws and guilty eyes. “Wes, get Buffy and the others back to the offices. I’ll call the clean-up crew and take care of the rest of it.” Buffy looked like she might argue, but he gave a quick shake of his head. “Please, luv. You need to get that wrist checked out.”

Buffy sighed and nodded, knowing he was right. Even Slayer healing took time with broken bones, and she wasn’t the only one hurt. “Fine. I’ll see you there then.”

Emmie spoke up quietly. “I’ll stay with you, Will.”

Spike wanted to argue, but she wasn’t badly injured, and the truth was he really didn’t want to stay with the body alone. “Alright then, luv.” Spike called the clean-up team as soon as the others had left. He knew that they would take care of calling the police and dealing with the body; it’s what they were there for. When he’d made the call, he led Emmie away from the dead girl. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head. “I really don’t know, Will. It was just supposed to be a small nest of vampires, but when we got here—” The young Slayer took a deep steadying breath, and went back to the beginning, anticipating Spike’s request. “When we got here, Buffy took Birch with her, and I took Lena and Kris through the back. It was a routine training run, and then we got in here, and suddenly we were surrounded by vampires and demons. I don’t know what most of them were, but we couldn’t even stage a retreat. I still don’t know how Buffy managed to fight them off and contact you.”

“There’s nothin’ you could have done about it, Mary Elizabeth,” Spike said gently, knowing that she was busy beating herself up. “These things happen sometimes.”

Emmie shook her head. “Lena was under my care. She was my responsibility.” And then whispering, “She was only seventeen.”

Spike didn’t even bother replying, only pulled her into his arms and let her cry out her heartache. This wasn’t the only time he had comforted her, of course. There had been the time she’d come to him after her first fight with Angel. The time after she’d realized what it would mean to love a vampire, with no hope of a real future. Buffy had accused him of stepping in too often, but what she hadn’t realized was that Emmie was very much like his younger sister, and he hated to see her in pain, of any kind. And this, losing people under your command, was pain of the worst sort.

~~~~~

When it was all over, when the clean-up crew had come, and he could take Emmie back to the offices. After he could reassure himself that Buffy would be fine, and that the two remaining Slayers would survive, and they started to hash out what had happened and what went wrong. After they had all argued about why demons and vampires were working together in the first place, and what they were going to do about it. That’s when Spike finally had a bit of breathing room, and went to find his son.

Ty was in Angel’s office, a sanctuary of sorts. Angel rarely did much actual work in there, preferring instead to move over the building and occupy his friends’ offices. Indeed, about the only thing the vampire used his office for anymore was brooding, and it was largely understood that if Angel wasn’t using the office, Ty was welcome to it.

Sure enough, even at 11 when the boy should have been fast asleep, he was playing one of those video games he and his vampire uncle were so fond of. “Hey, Little Man,” Spike said softly.

Ty was silent, waiting until he could get to a stopping point and save it, before turning to look at his father. “How’d everything go?” he asked.

Spike could never quite believe that his son was only ten; there was nothing childish about him. “As well as might be expected,” he allowed quietly. “Are you alright, luv?”

The boy looked away, shrugging slightly. “I guess. It was so real, Dad.”

“I know.” He watched as his son rose from his spot on the floor and came over to sit next to him on Angel’s black leather couch. “I wish I could make this go away for you, son. I really do.”

Ty shook his head. “No,” he said. “It’s okay, Dad, really. It’s right that I have these visions, because it was meant to be.”

“I ever find out who picked you, I’m goin’ to beat ‘em within an inch of their lives,” Spike growled, and pulled Ty in close to him. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Dad,” Ty replied. And then, more quietly still, “When are you going to tell Uncle Angel that you hired Connor?”

Spike winced noticeably. That was one of the things he was hoping to avoid for as long as possible. He didn’t even want to know how his son had guessed that Connor was important in the grand scheme of things. “Not until I have to.”

“I can’t believe you’d do something like this to me, Spike,” Angel said. He wasn’t shouting—not yet—but the intensity of his tone and the look on his face had Spike wanting to back up a couple paces. Not that he was scared, but Angelus could be one scary guy, and right now Angel was bearing a lot more resemblance to his soulless alter-ego.

Spike had managed to keep Connor out of Angel’s way for over a week, not an unimpressive feat. But he had to give Angel an update on the hiring process at some point, and secrets weren’t kept around Wolfram & Hart for long. Truthfully, he was surprised Angel hadn’t already found out. And he was hurt by the betrayal evident in Angel’s voice. “This isn’t about you, Angel,” he replied firmly. “This is about the fact that your kid has a part to play in what’s comin’.”

Angel wasn’t listening to him. “You knew what this would do to me,” the big vampire hissed. “He’s my son, and you—”

“And I, nothin’.” Spike’s eyes were blazing at this point. Angel wasn’t in the mood to do anything but cast the blame, and it was beginning to piss him off. “This is about Ty, Angel. You remember, my son? The one who calls you uncle an’ likes to tease you ‘bout your girlfriend?”

The vampire backed off just a hair. “Spike, you know I care about Ty, but—”

“No,” Spike said, looking him straight in the eye. “Get this through your thick head, pillock. If I had known who Connor was before he walked into my office, I never would have offered him an interview, never mind that he’s the best applicant we’d had so far. If I’d figured it out and Ty never showed up to start spoutin’ some bloody prophetic crap, I still would have chased him off.

“But as it stands, Wes is busy translatin’ some prophecy that seems to apply to both of ‘em, Ty did have some sort of episode soon’s he saw him, and now we’ve got vampires and demons workin’ together, an’ it all spells apocalypse.”

“I know that,” Angel said quietly. “But you didn’t have to hire him. Dammit, William, you know how I feel about him.”

“This isn’t about you anymore, Angelus,” Spike said forcefully. “This is about Ty. He’s linked into this somehow, and I don’t doubt it also explains how the bloody hell he came to be mine by blood. So, if your son is part of all this, I want him near so I can keep an eye on him, an’ on what’s goin’ on.”

“Fine,” Angel said angrily. “Do what you like, Spike. You always do anyway.”

Spike froze. He wanted to beat Angel to within an inch of his unlife. He wanted to make Angel see that this wasn’t about hurting him or anyone else, it was about saving the life of one little boy and making sure the world didn’t end on their watch. But he could see in Angel’s eyes that he somehow blamed him for it all. “You don’t have to see him,” Spike said. “But you’ll have to meet him and be civil when you do. And take my advice, Angel,” the younger man glared at him. “You’d better tell the rest of them. Wes needs this information to decipher his prophecy, and if Emmie ever finds out, she’ll probably stake you. Not to mention the boy. When this starts heating up, it’d be better if it doesn’t get sprung on him.”

But Angel didn’t bother replying, turning from his friend to stare out the window, tension in every angle. He wasn’t ready to hear it, Spike knew, but he’d better get ready, because this was bound to get a lot uglier before it was all over.

~~~~~

Wesley was muttering to himself as he went over the prophecy and his own translation. There was little room for error here. Time seemed to be growing short, and he needed to get this right the first time. He had made a mistake in the past and it had been—

He frowned. Other than the mistake he’d made with the Shanshu prophecy, telling Angel he was going to die, there hadn’t been another. And yet, he had the strangest feeling that he’d shot something all to hell in the past and that it had been costly. It was a very strange feeling, like déjà vu.

“Wesley?” He turned to see Fred standing in the middle of the living room, watching him. “Aren’t you coming to bed?”

He gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Fred. I was just working on this translation, and I lost track of the time.” Now that he’d been reminded, he glanced over at the clock and winced when he saw it was after 2. Getting up in the morning was going to be a bugger. “You should be sleeping.”

“I was,” Fred said, amused, coming over to him and beginning to rub his shoulders. “My stomach was kind of queasy though, and it woke me up. You’ve been really busy with that prophecy.”

It was not meant as a reproach, and Wesley knew it, but he still felt badly. It had been a while since they had been able to spend time together. “I know, but it just seems important right now. I’m almost certain it centers around Ty, but I just can’t put the pieces together. I feel as though I’m missing something, perhaps something that should be obvious.” He leaned back into her embrace. “Did you and your mother have a nice conversation?”

Fred smiled. “Yeah, it was nice to catch up. She and Daddy are thrilled about the baby, of course, but she said they’re not coming up until closer to the birth. Mama was pretty insistent about me not traveling.”

“Your mother is a wise woman,” Wesley murmured.

Fred rolled her eyes in response. “I’m only five months along, Wesley. That hardly makes me an invalid. Have you talked to your parents yet?”

Wesley squirmed just a little bit. “No. I’m waiting for the right time, you know.”

“And when is that going to be?” Fred moved so she could look him in the eye. “You’re not going to wait until the baby’s born, are you?”

He’d certainly thought about it. “I’ll call,” he promised. “It’s just—”

Fred’s glare softened to a smile. “I know. It was hard to tell my folks too, and I knew they’d be thrilled.” Suddenly the look on her face changed to one of surprise, and she smiled widely. “Here.” She grabbed his hand and placed it over her abdomen, where there was just a slight bulge, hardly noticeable yet.

Wesley’s eyes widened as he felt a sharp thump against his hand, and he looked at his girlfriend in awe. “Was that—?”

“Yep,” Fred replied. “I’ve been waiting for you to be around for that.”

Wesley kept his hand where it was, reveling in the sense of motion, the baby suddenly becoming real for him. Before, it had been an abstraction almost. But now, it was real, just under his fingertips, and he was overwhelmed with love for both child and mother. “Fred, I love you. You know that, right?”

Fred looked at him, smiling. “Of course I do, Wesley.”

“I don’t say it often enough,” he said.

She shrugged. “But I know, silly.” The woman hesitated. He was so reticent, her Wesley, so afraid to say what he felt. She remembered thinking him distant after his break with Angel and the rest of them. He had never been cold before. Reserved, perhaps, but never cold. And really, it hadn’t been until after William had come with Ty, and she’d seen that there was so much to him that he rarely shared. She’d caught him and the boy in his office one day, and Wesley had been teaching Ty to do a little magic. Wesley had been so patient, so gentle, and her heart had been lost in that moment.

“You tell me every day, Wes,” she finally said. And then, reaching out a hand, she led him off to bed.

~~~~~

Connor held back a sigh of frustration. “This is a state of the art system,” he said. “It’s guaranteed to notify you of intruders, plus it means instant notification of all emergencies. You build the rest of the security systems around this one, which means that everyone who needs to know is instantly warned when something goes wrong.”

Spike eyed the younger man with some humor. “We’ve got a system in place,” he reminded him.

“Right. The magical protections,” Connor replied glumly. He still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

“That’s right,” Spike replied. “Look, I know it takes some getting used to, but magic is real, and it does work.”

Connor pounced on his opening. “Most of the time. But who would suspect a magical system backed up by this kind of electronics? This kind of thing is virtually fool-proof, and with the two of them together, you aren’t going to have holes.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “There are always holes,” he objected.

“But they’ll be minimized,” Connor said persuasively. “You’re covering yourself on all fronts.”

Spike finally nodded, smiling in what looked to be satisfaction. “Well, lad, you’ve convinced me. Now, it’s just a matter of convincing Angel, and he’s a cheap bastard if there ever was one.”

“Is he okay with you hiring me?” Connor asked. He’d finally met the vampire last week, and had found him somewhat cold, in more ways than one. Oh, Angel had been polite enough, but he’d been distant, even cursory in his questions, and then had dismissed him with barely another word. Connor, to be quite frank, had expected a little more in the way of welcome.

While he understood that Wolfram & Hart bordered on nepotistic in its hiring practices, everyone else had been more than kind. William and Buffy had even had him over for dinner, where he’d been able to get a much closer look at Dawn. The others had been friendly and warm at least. His position was on a level with most of theirs, really. But Angel was another matter altogether, and he couldn’t quite figure it out.

“He’s fine with me hiring you, Connor,” Spike finally replied after a few minutes of silence. “Angel—Angel has had some difficult circumstances over the past few years, and he doesn’t warm up to strangers quickly. Give him time, he’ll come around. You were the best person for the job, and he can’t argue with that.”

Spike stood. “In fact, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to talk to you about designing a security system for my house. You can never be too safe, you know.”

Connor stood as well. “That would be fine. Security is as much a hobby of mine as it is my job.” The other man might have left then, but he stopped him with a question. “You never did tell me what happened in your office the first day I was here. Dawn told me your son has visions, but she seemed as surprised by what was said as I think you were. So what did all that mean?”

Spike looked up to the ceiling, as though praying for patience, or perhaps wisdom. “Connor, I can’t tell you.”

“You won’t tell me,” he accused.

Spike faced him, and there was a sad, almost wistful expression on his face. “No, lad, I can’t tell you. Believe me, if I could, you’d be the first person to know. Part of it is that I was, as you said, surprised. Flat stunned, if you want the truth. The other part of it is that I’m not free to tell you. That information is privileged, and I’ll be buggered if I let that cat out of the bag. Got enough secrets of my own to appreciate another person’s privacy. ‘m sorry for that.”

The funny thing was, Connor really believed that he was. The look on Spike’s face said that he really wasn’t happy with the situation, but he couldn’t do anything about it. “What happens if my not having that information puts this firm, and the people who work here, in danger?” he challenged.

“I’ll have to live with it,” the former vampire replied. “I live with a lot most days.” He turned to go, but just before he got out the door, Connor heard him mutter, “Never believed he would be that bloody much like his dad.”

Connor almost went after him. Almost bodily dragged him back into his office to explain himself and that comment. He was fully aware that William had done an extensive background check, but there was no way he could have known his father. Which meant he knew something else, he was aware of something about Connor’s past that Connor wasn’t even aware of. And he didn’t like that feeling one bit.

It was a sense that had been growing since just after the deaths of his parents. It had led him to push himself through school, to get a job, to push himself physically. There were things no one was able to explain; like why he was faster, stronger, than your ordinary mortal. Why he never, ever got sick. Why had a car crash that should have killed him barely left a scratch? Why, once he discovered the truth about vampires, and other creatures of the night, could he hunt them, find them, and kill them? There had to be an explanation for all of this, and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was the place to find them.

Somehow he knew that he couldn’t go to William, that to do so would only get him more evasion. Even if the man wanted to tell him, something was holding him back. No, he needed someone else, someone who would be sympathetic. He needed—

~~~~~

“Dawn.”

“Hey, Connor.” She looked up from her desk and smiled at him. He found her dazzling, really; her beauty, her intelligence, the aura of strength and poise she wore like a garment. If his life wasn’t more than a little crazy right this moment, he would have been trying to figure out how he was going to ask her to dinner.

“Hi,” he said, a trifle awkwardly. “I was wondering if you could help me.”

Dawn gave him a penetrating look, and nodded. “Sure. Why don’t you shut the door?” she suggested, and then put her pen down. “Whatcha need?”

He sat, and then slowly began to explain what he knew. About himself, about what was going on, about feeling as though something were being kept from him. “I just feel like I can’t be sure of anything right now,” he confessed. “I wasn’t sure who else to ask, but you seemed like you might understand, and maybe like you’d be able to help me.”

When Connor risked looking into her eyes, he found more understanding there than he’d even thought possible. “Well, you’ve come to the right place, that’s for sure,” Dawn said smiling. “And may I say I know exactly how you feel?”

Normally, Connor might have bristled at that, but somehow he believed her. “Really? Then you’ll help me?”

Dawn nodded slowly. “I had some of the same questions about myself at one point in time, and a friend helped me dig up the answers. Not everybody was happy that I’d found out, but I think it was better in the long run.”

He swallowed, feeling a huge sense of relief. “Where do we start?”

She smiled. “Where everything starts. In the file room.”

~~~~~

The room was huge, full of more filing drawers and cabinets than Connor had ever thought possible. “You sure you won’t get into trouble for this?” he asked, concerned, his voice a mere whisper.

Dawn shrugged. “That friend I told you about? He picked a lock for me and broke into a shop. He also happens to be your boss. I think we’ll be okay, even if we do get into a little trouble.”

Connor frowned suddenly. “Is that why you and your sister call him Spike?”

“Uh huh.” Dawn was looking at the labels on the drawers, trying to figure out which one, exactly, that she wanted. There were a lot to choose from. “You knew William was a vampire, right?”

“Heard a rumor to that effect,” he admitted, trailing along in her wake.

“Well, that was his name, Spike.” Dawn shrugged and suddenly smiled at him. “Of course, his name was William too, but everybody called him Spike. And then he died and forgot who he was for a while, so everybody called him William. And then he remembered, so now he’s Spike again. It’s pretty much take your pick, since he’s both.”

“Right.” Connor hadn’t followed all of that. “Sounds like an interesting story.”

“If you have about a day,” Dawn agreed. “We should go to the beach someday. I’ll give you the whole sordid tale.”

Connor blinked in surprise, not quite believing that she’d sort of just asked him on a date. “Uh, yeah. It’s a date then,” he said, inwardly groaning at his own stupidity.

But she just replied with one of those blinding smiles of hers, and he felt his heart rate speed up just a little bit, along with hers. That made him feel better. “Here we are,” she said triumphantly. “I took a risk and decided to look you up by your first name, and not your last. The most recent background file would have you listed under your last name.”

Connor watched nervously as she rifled through the drawer, and then her eyes widened as she pulled out a folder, which she then handed to him wordlessly. He opened it, and was stunned to see a photograph of Angel holding a baby, as well as the translated script of a prophecy. He looked at her. “What does this mean?”

“It means there’s a lot more to you than meets the eye,” she replied, trying for some levity. And then, pointing to a sticker on the folder, “It also means there’s a contract with you in it somewhere, and we need to find it.”

But a search for the contract turned up nothing, and they both finally had to admit defeat. “This doesn’t tell me anything,” Connor protested, staring at the picture and the rough translation. And what it might tell him was too impossible.

“I think we need to talk to Spike,” Dawn said quietly. “He can be pretty closemouthed about this kind of thing, but if you confront him with the truth, he’ll usually spill the rest of it.” The young woman shook her head. “I know this sucks, Connor, trust me. I really have been there and done that. But I don’t know what to tell you at this point. Contracts don’t get shredded. They always have a copy somewhere, which means that someone has it physically. If you want my best guess, that someone’s probably either Spike or Angel.”

Angel. Connor stared at the picture once again, trying to remember, to jog some part of his mind that wanted to understand. That wanted to put words to the emotions he already had. And he didn’t have those words. “All right,” he finally said. “Let’s go talk to Spike then.”

~~~~~

Spike was more than a little worried at the moment. Wes had just given him an update on his translation of the prophecy, and it was both vague and disturbing, talking about sons and brothers, all of whom were named different things. So far, Wes hadn’t been able to find the name of the second brother, but the first was always called “the Phoenix,” and Spike had a good idea of what that meant. What it also meant was that Wes needed the rest of the story to make any sense at all out of the wording, and he hadn’t been released from his promise yet.

“Bollocks,” he snarled under his breath. This whole thing was getting them nowhere; he was going to have to have another talk with Angel, and this one was going to involve his fists if he couldn’t get the big wanker to see sense.

“Spike?” He looked up to see Dawn in his doorway, Connor a step behind her. And they were holding a file. Spike gave an inward groan. The Powers were testing him, he knew, because this was just getting a little bit ridiculous.

Motioning them both in, he sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching as Dawn shut the door. Oh, yeah. This was going to be interesting. “Connor had some questions, so he asked me to help him out. And now we both have concerns.” She handed him the file, and he flipped it open. He should have known that W&H had kept records.

“What do you want to know?” he asked evenly.

“I want to know what you do,” Connor replied. “Dawn says there’s a contract related to me, and I think you know what was in it, or at least where it is. And I need to know how you know my father.”

Spike raised a scarred eyebrow. “What makes you think I do?”

“You said so. You said I was like him.”

The ex-vampire could have shot himself. “Blasted vampire hearing,” he muttered. “I always forget about that. Sit, both of you,” he said more loudly. “Dawn, I’ll need you to back me up, and I’m going to swear you both to secrecy for the time being. Understood?”

Dawn blinked. “Back you up?”

Spike didn’t reply immediately, instead punching his intercomm and letting his secretary know that he wasn’t to be bothered by anybody for any reason whatsoever. “I don’t care if the world’s ending,” he said. “No one is to come through that door.” Then he reached over, unlocked one of his desk drawers and pulled out a file, one that had a sticker on it matching the one on Connor’s personal file. Silently, he passed the file over to Connor.

The younger man flipped it open and read through the legalese as quickly as possible, frowning in consternation. “But this is about Angel’s takeover of Wolfram & Hart. I don’t see what it has to do with me.”

“Keep reading,” Spike said evenly.

“Angel will take the L.A. holdings of Wolfram & Hart under the following conditions: One: that he be free and clear to do with the firm as he pleases. Two: that his son be placed…” Connor’s voice trailed off slowly. “It’s not possible,” he whispered. “Vampires can’t have children.”

“Normally, you’d be right,” Spike agreed. “Except that the rules don’t seem to apply to Angel and me. Ty is mine by blood, and you are Angel’s by blood. The difference is that your mum, Darla, was a full-out vamp, no soul involved.”

Connor shook his head. “No, I don’t remember any of this. This contract is dated ten years ago, and I was with my parents. They have my birth certificate, I don’t—”

“It’s possible, Connor,” Spike said. “Just ask Dawn.”

Dawn suddenly realized exactly what Spike had meant by “back up.” “It’s true,” she said slowly. “Memories can be planted. I remember growing up with my mom and Buffy, but I wasn’t actually real until I was 14. I guess.” She frowned, trying to think of how that sounded, and if it made sense, but Connor was shaking his head.

“But no one else here knows me. Except for you,” his tone turned accusatory, and Spike held up a hand in his own defense.

“Look, Connor, I knew about you, but only because I made a guess after I brought Ty in. The way Angel looked at him told me everything I needed to know, and I didn’t have a lot of memories of my own at that point; I didn’t know Angel wasn’t supposed to have a kid, to be honest.” Spike sighed. “I told Angel to tell you, but he didn’t want to, and he didn’t want to tell anyone else either. All I’ll say is that he gave you up because he loved you, because he thought you’d be happier and safer away from him.”

Connor couldn’t believe it, and yet wouldn’t it explain why he was the way he was? Why he was so strong and fast and damn near invulnerable? He shook his head slowly, and Spike decided to get them both out of there. “Dawn, take Connor. Go out or something. Tell him as much as you feel comfortable telling him about yourself. I’ll have to talk to Angel later today, and we’ll have to break the news. This is getting us nowhere, and he needs to know what’s going on.”

Dawn nodded, her eyes deeply sympathetic. “I’ll have my cell on if you need to get in touch,” she said, taking Connor’s arm and tugging him along.”

Spike put his head down on his desk. He should just go back to bed. Crawl under the covers and hope that this was all a dream when he woke up again, because Angel was definitely going to kill him. Not to mention the rest of the blood that would be shed once the rest of them found out that a secret of this magnitude had been kept.

“Spike? You okay?” He felt Buffy’s hands descend to his shoulders, working on the knots that were there.

“No,” he said, his reply muffled by his arms. “I am well and truly buggered. Angel’s going to kill me.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, but didn’t reply. She was used to Spike’s melodrama at this point. “Do you want to find an island, luv?” he asked wistfully. “Just you, me, and Ty? We can come back when this newest apocalypse is over.”

“You think that’s what this is going to be?” she asked. But when he stood and met her eyes, she could see the fear there, and knew that it wasn’t simple overreaction on his part. “Okay, an island sounds good,” she said, a reply to the look on his face.

He gathered her into his arms, and they took strength from each other. It was better now than it ever had been before, Spike thought. Even that last year as they’d faced the First, they hadn’t been able to count on each other like this. They had been friends and allies, comrades, but now they were lovers, truly two halves of the same whole. “Buffy-luv?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you trust me?”

“With all my soul.” She pulled back and looked up at him.

“Good,” he murmured. “Let’s not keep secrets, pet. This is going to get ugly before the end.”

Buffy had no idea what he meant, but she knew it had something to do with the prophecy Wesley was working on, something to do with Connor and what Ty had seen, or rather, said. She had a feeling that the two were connected. “No secrets, Spike,” she agreed. “Though, just so you know, I’m still not telling you what I got you for your birthday.”

Emmie entered William’s office after a perfunctory knock. She was used to being able to come and go at pretty much all times, unless he’d left a “do not disturb” order with his secretary. She’d needed to give him some reports, and had been planning on discussing some other things that had been happening, but it seemed he was nowhere to be found. She frowned; he was almost always in his office this time of day.

Shrugging, she decided to put the reports on his desk now and catch up with him later. But Emmie had been feeling a little clumsy lately, and putting the reports down on his desk knocked another file to the floor, sending papers everywhere. She sighed in frustration, glad she wasn’t this much of a klutz when she was fighting.

Picking up the folder, she began gathering the pictures and bits of paper that had scattered. It wasn’t like she had meant to pry, but she couldn’t help but see the picture as she tucked it back in, and William didn’t really have any secrets from her.

The picture itself was of Angel, with a bundle in his arms that could only be a baby. Emmie was puzzled; the only kid Angel knew or hung around with as far as she knew was Ty, but they hadn’t met until the boy was at least five. So it couldn’t be William’s son in the picture, and the clothing Angel was wearing didn’t give the time-frame away, except that it was probably in the last decade or so. Well, it had to be, because Angel had been in Sunnydale before that, and then eating rats in an alley before that. Which could only mean one thing—

With trembling fingers, she began looking through the rest of the file, noting the translated prophecy and the brief reports present. Emmie also saw the sticker on the file, and without thinking about what she was doing (prying, and not something she usually did), she began looking for the contract file, and soon found it.

You didn’t spend time in a law firm without learning how to decipher the legalese, and at this point she could read it almost as easily as a newspaper article. It didn’t make sense to her, though. That Angel had a son, and then hadn’t told anyone. That he hadn’t told her, which was more to the point. They had been honest with each other, or so she had thought. Honesty was important to her, most important really. She had to be able to trust her lover, or the relationship wouldn’t work.

Oh, maybe he hadn’t lied, but to hide something like this—Her first reaction was to try to deny it, to pretend that it had never happened and just walk away. But her anger wouldn’t let her. She didn’t want to leave him; she loved him too much for that. However, Emmie did want to let him know just how badly he had hurt her by hiding this little secret.

With that, she set the file down on the desk, back where she found it, and marched the short distance down the hall to Angel’s office. There were times when it probably wasn’t a good idea for William and Angel to be so close, but the rest of the time it was a convenience no one wanted to do without. This was one of those times; her anger didn’t have a chance to cool before she encountered him.

Emmie didn’t even bother knocking. She just walked in, stopping just inside the doorway when she saw Gunn and Angel looking over a couple contracts. “Hey, Emmie,” Angel said, smiling. “Give me just a second.”

Gunn waved a greeting, and then pointed. “And sign there.” He watched as Angel put down his John Hancock, and nodded in satisfaction. “That should do it.” Gunn straightened, and looked over at Emmie, obviously about to say something, but the look on her face froze the words in his throat. Apparently, Angel had just caught it too, because his face went from happy to see her to worried to apprehensive in the space of a few seconds.

Gunn gathered up his files, and pointed at the door. “You know, I’ve got some things to take care of, and I’ve got Ty this afternoon, so I’ll just be going.” And then he excused himself, knowing a coming storm when he sensed one.

Emmie waited until he’d exited and shut the door behind him before saying anything. “Why?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me about Connor?”

If vampires could have paled, Angel would have. “How did you find out?”

“Oh, please, Angel,” Emmie said, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. “After what Ty said the other day, and then the prophecy that Wes has been working on? I’m surprised I didn’t catch on earlier. But to answer your question, it was an accident. I saw a file you probably didn’t want me to see.”

The big vampire stood and came around the desk. “Look, Emmie, no one knew. It wasn’t just you.”

“Bull shit.” Emmie’s voice was furious now, her face pale with anger, a stark contrast to her dark eyes and hair. “William knew, and I’d bet he’s known for a while.”

“William guessed,” Angel replied, a tinge of anger in his own voice now. “Look, Emmie, I get why you’re upset, but I had my reasons. Connor was—”

“Connor is your son!” Emmie cried angrily. “You had a son and you didn’t tell me!”

Angel stood toe to toe with her. “I’m a vampire,” he replied harshly. “I’m not going to tell you everything.”

Emmie nearly belted him. “That’s not the point, Angel,” she yelled. “The point is that even if you were human and you’d hidden something like this from me, I would have been angry. The point is that you kept this from me, and this is huge. How would you feel if I’d had a child and hadn’t told you?” Silence met her question, and Emmie had her answer. She turned away.

“You aren’t talking to me, Angel,” she said sadly. “You’re keeping things from me.” She clenched and unclenched her fists. “You know how important trust is to me, and you know why. I think we need some time apart.”

Angel froze, and then reached out to touch her arm. “No, Emmie. I’m sorry, I should have said something about it, but the time was never right. I wanted to tell you.”

She pulled away from him, and then turned and faced him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Not good enough, Angel. You know everything there is to know about me. You know about my past; we’ve talked about it. But you didn’t trust me, and that hurts a lot.” Emmie backed slowly out the door. “If you can’t talk to me, I don’t think we can do this relationship.”

Angel was left staring at the door, wondering how it was all slipping away from him.

~~~~~

Buffy had glanced into Spike’s office and hadn’t seen him, and so had headed off towards her own office. He’d seemed pretty frazzled earlier. She’d half-hoped she could kidnap him and take him somewhere nice, where they could relax, especially since neither of them would have Ty until the evening. Those plans were disrupted both by his absence and by the sight of a teary Emmie coming out of Angel’s office.

Buffy immediately went to the younger woman. “Emmie? Are you alright?” The young Slayer shook her head miserably, and Buffy took her by the arm. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

They went to a small coffee shop near the office. Buffy was never comfortable having personal conversations in the office, if only because someone usually saw, and then it ended up as water cooler gossip. “What happened?” Buffy asked when they both had their drinks and had settled down at a small corner table.

Slowly, Emmie began to explain, twisting tendrils of hair nervously around her fingers as she spoke. Buffy felt a rush of sympathy for her. In some ways, Emmie was more of a younger sister than Dawn at this point. Dawn had done a lot of growing up that year they’d fought the First Evil, and when it was all over, Buffy had discovered that quite a bit of distance had sprung up between them. In time, they’d grown close again, but their relationship became more like friends than siblings.

On the other hand, with Emmie, the age difference was large enough that the girl pulled up her maternal instincts. Plus, there was no real baggage between the two of them, and Emmie was very much like a younger sister to Spike. Times like this, however, it became just a little strange to think about a girl, nearly ten years her junior, dating her ex-boyfriend.

When she had finished her story, relishing just a little the spilling of Angel’s secrets, Buffy sighed. So this was what Spike had been so twitchy about for the last few weeks. No wonder. “I don’t blame you for being angry,” Buffy admitted. “But, Emmie, this isn’t really something that Angel would probably have told anyone. I don’t really want to take his side, but I’m not sure I would have told anyone either if I were in his shoes.”

Emmie nodded unhappily. “I know. I really do. It’s not that I don’t understand why Angel kept it from me, it just hurts.”

Buffy clearly remembered finding out about Drusilla and how hurt and shocked she’d been to find out exactly what kind of a vampire Angelus had been. She really couldn’t blame the other woman for her anger. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Emmie admitted. “I think I just need some time away from him. I need to figure out if I can deal with this.” She looked up at Buffy. “You know about my step-father, what he did to me. Trust is not something I can just not have in a relationship. It took so long just to get to a point—” Emmie broke off, not sure how much Buffy really wanted to hear. “Like I said, it isn’t that I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me. It’s that I need to be able to trust him, and right now, I’m not sure I can.”

~~~~~

Ty finished his math homework with a flourish and looked at Fred expectantly. “Done.”

Fred smiled at him, and picked up the paper, quickly glancing over the fractions problems, and then her smile broadened. “Good job, Ty,” she congratulated him. “You got every one right.”

The boy smiled triumphantly and wriggled with excitement. “Can I go now?”

Fred looked over at the clock and nodded. “Who’s got you now?” she asked.

“Uncle Gunn,” Ty replied promptly. “He said we’re going to work on hand-to-hand today.”

“All right,” Fred said, leaning down and giving him a peck on the cheek even as Ty squirmed uncomfortably. “You’re outta here.”

Ty grinned and was out of the lab like a shot. He didn’t mind the math and science lessons with Fred; she always made them interesting. But his favorite times of the day were weapons practice. Angel and Wesley usually taught sword work; Angel was Budokan, Wesley was traditional fencing. Buffy and his Dad were hand-to-hand and acrobatics as was Emmie. But Gunn—Gunn taught street fighting, and his lessons were probably the most fun. The best times were when Gunn and his dad sparred and let him watch. At that point, the quips they traded were as much entertainment as the fighting itself.

Today looked to be no exception. Gunn was waiting for him, dressed in an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt, about the only time he didn’t wear a suit anymore. Ty slipped off his shoes, and went to meet his uncle in the middle of the mats. “Hey, Little Man,” Gunn greeted him with a high five. “You ready?”

“Yeah.” Ty’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Good,” Gunn said, and then motioned to the stakes scattered around the room. “Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to get to those stakes. You’re fighting, and somebody knocks your weapon out of your hand, you got to get it back. So, that’s what we’re gonna work on today.” He waited for Ty’s nod of understanding. “No rules.”

Ty’s eyes widened. “No rules” meant anything goes. You do what you have to do, just like in a real fight. It also meant that if he made any stupid mistakes, Gunn was going to let him know. Not in a mean way, just in a way so that he wouldn’t forget the lesson very soon. He gulped and then nodded, glancing around the room to figure out where his weapons were.

“Let’s rumble,” Gunn said, smiling, and lunged.

Ty dove for his first stake. This was going to be fun.

~~~~~

Spike entered the lab, feeling a little more cheerful, if only because he’d been able to avoid Angel for the last few hours. As long as he didn’t actually see him, he could pretend as though nothing had happened. Or, at least he could avoid all responsibility. Either way, he was happy. Right now, however, he had a different sort of responsibility, and not one he minded in the least.

“’lo, Fred,” he said as he spotted her behind a microscope.

She smiled brightly at him. “William! What are you doing down here?”

Spike shrugged and came to sit next to her on one of the stools. “Came to talk to you, pet,” he said easily.

She narrowed her eyes. “Is this a friendly chat, or a talk with a purpose?”

“You got me,” he admitted. “Came to talk to you about maternity leave.”

“Maternity leave?” With a frown she turned back to what she’d been studying. “If Wesley put you up to this, I’m not an invalid, William.”

Spike winced slightly. Wes had not put him up to it, but he had made more than a few comments about not liking the love of his life working so hard during her pregnancy. He himself could remember feeling much the same way during Erin’s last couple months. There was something about a pregnant woman that called out the protector in pretty much every male alive. “It wasn’t Wes,” he replied. “But you do need to be thinkin’ on it, Fred. Angel and I talked, and we’re both willing to keep your job for you no matter how long you decide you need to be out. Even if you want to take a few months off, that’s fine.”

Fred turned to look at her friend, who had nothing but concern on his face. And she unbent just enough to smile. “Just because I’m going to be a mom doesn’t mean I need to quit working.”

“No one’s sayin’ that, pet,” he replied. “But if you decide you’re needin’ a bit more time, I want you to know you’ve got it. ‘s not about what everyone else thinks is best. It’s about what you want.” Spike hesitated, and then said very quietly. “Erin an’ I were lucky after Ty was born, ‘cause we could have him at work with us. And you’ll be able to do the same to a certain extent. But I know if that weren’t the case for Erin, she’d have wanted to stay home with Ty. Not sayin’ you will too, but just to let you know you might want the choice, an’ you’ve got it.”

Fred nodded slowly. She knew that Wesley was just worried about her at this point. He could be incredibly overprotective at times, but it was for a good reason. And it did feel good to know that she had the choice; she was well aware that not everyone did, one way or the other. “I’ll think about it,” she promised.

“An’ that’s all anyone can ask,” Spike replied, standing. He still had things to do, and as pleasant as spending time with Fred was, he needed to get back to work. “I should—” Spike broke off suddenly, a faint sound alerting him to the fact that something was very wrong. “Down!” he shouted, pulling Fred down, with his own body just a second behind her. It was a second too long as the explosion rocked the lab, sending flying glass his way. He could feel it hitting his back, even as he ducked behind the large table, covering Fred’s body with his own, praying that they would both make it out of there in one piece.

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