Title: Crawling in the Dark

Rated: PG-13

Summary: Second Part of the Weathered Series. There’s a wolf stalking the SG, but who is it? And what does it want?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Joss, UPN, and WB own everything. Please don’t sue me.

Special Thanks: Once again, to my lovely and talented Beta readers, Haley, Jennifer, and Karen. They really help me out a lot and deserve a big thank you from everyone.

AN: Well, I’ve done the action/adventure with Weathered, and a light hearted comedy with Murphy’s Law, but now things are about to get a little bit darker and with more angst, at least in my opinion. Like the other two, I didn’t quite mean to do that, but that is how it happened. Still, I hope you enjoy.

***********

Part 1: Signs

She walked through the deserted street, the cool morning air blowing up the thin skirt she had on as she pushed a stray blond hair out of her face. The town was so still, so unnaturally still. It was starting to give her the creeps, even though the bright morning sun shone down on her. The warm glow was sure to chase all the nasties away. But something dark was following her, tracking her, even if she couldn’t find it.

On the steps in front of the Magic Box sat a little girl with hair that looked as if it couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be a light brown or a dark blond. The long curly mat that was her hair was pulled into two pig tails that hung low behind her ears and rested on her little shoulders. She didn’t look as if she were over four-years-old, and was just quietly bouncing a ball up and down.

Buffy came and sat beside the child who barely even noticed her presence.

“Hi,” the slayer said watching the ball come up again and land in the girl’s hands. “What’chya doing?”

“Waiting for my daddy,” she told her still focusing in on her ball. “He had to go out for awhile and told me to wait here.”

“What about your Mommy? Where’s she?”

The little girl caught the ball in her hand and looked over at the slayer. Her little face was so sad, it almost made Buffy want to cry for her.

“She didn’t listen,” the child said sadly. “I told her, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Told her what?”

“To beware the wolf,” she said as she continued to bounce the ball. “But she didn’t listen.”

Buffy felt her eyes grow wide. It couldn’t be.

“Dylan?” she asked softly.

The girl looked up at her again and she recognized those bright, blue eyes. Before she could react to what she was looking at, the child screamed, “Look out!”

Buffy turned just in time to see a large mouth of teeth launching at her.

The blonde sat up straight in her bed, a thin layer of sweat covering her body with her heart pounding in her chest. What was that?

From the crib that they had set up under the windows that she used to sneak in and out, Dylan was standing up, holding onto the railing, bawling. Her little face was red and sticky from tears as she waited for her mother to come comfort her and make everything alright again. Buffy lifted the child into her arms; her little yellow fleece body pajamas warm in her embrace as she swayed the toddler back in forth.

“It’s okay,” she told her rocking the child. “It was just a dream, nothing else.”

To be honest, she didn’t know who she was trying to calm down more, her daughter or herself.

Ever since Thanksgiving, the dreams had become worse and worse. They were always the same; she would be somewhere in town, see the same little girl but at different ages, and she would give her the same warning, ‘beware the wolf.’

At first, Buffy didn’t know who the child was, but she did now. The still whimpering baby in her arms was trying to tell her something, but wasn’t quite sure what. The fact that she said that she didn’t listen to her tonight really put the slayer on edge.

Did that mean that it was too late already? She just wished she knew.

**********

The house was dark. They were all asleep and safe in their beds, but he still kept his post under the old tree out front. He would stay there until the first rays of light would start to brighten the sky and chase him and the shadows away, but he would stay right there until then.

How many nights had he stayed under that tree, watching that window in hopes of catching a glimpse of her without Solider Boy? He had lost count from before.

He did remember the last night plainly, the night that he had shown her that her white knight had a few kinks in his armor. The night he had a moment to compare what her real nude body looked like as compared to the one he fantasized about - they were strikingly similar. The night before both their lives were turned completely upside down and inside out.

It struck him how differently their lives could have been had he not kept watch that night had he not dragged her out of her dream world and into the harsh reality that her commando boyfriend lived in. Would he be standing there, watching the room where both she and their daughter slept? Spike snorted. Probably bloody well not.

Unlike when he watched out of obsession, he had to watch now to keep his own sanity in check. They had been together for so long, just the three of them, and he knew they were both safe because he was always nearby in case something should happen.

The only time he had left, he had because he felt it was for the best. He worried constantly for the three months he was in Africa. Even during those deadly, gruesome trials, it was the thought of getting back to them that had kept him from giving up. When he had to recover and that blasted guilt was driving him insane, the thought of them being unprotected without him around was what finally forced him to stop feeling sorry for himself and haul his ass back to Madrid. He had nearly lost them that night; he was sure as hell not going to let it happen again. If that meant standing out there, under that window, and watching for the rest of his unnatural life, then so be it.

A faint sound floated from the house causing Spike to straighten up a little. He would know that sound anywhere. It was Dylan and she was crying, again.

In a move he had perfected over the months, he was able to climb the tree and position himself to where Buffy couldn’t see him before the slayer even had a chance to turn on the lights. Dylan was standing there in her crib, screaming like a banshee until her mother came and lifted her into the safety of her arms. The slayer herself didn’t look much better than the child. She looked worn and tired and scared, but of what he didn’t know. He couldn’t know because he wasn’t there with them, like he should be.

Spike stayed there, trying to will any comfort to them, until Rupert arrived shortly before the sun would have risen. The vampire felt a pang of jealousy towards the Watcher because he was the one the slayer still turned too, but he also felt better because he was there and perhaps able to help her. Reluctantly, but because he didn’t want to spontaneously combust, he slipped out of the yard and headed home.

He hadn’t gotten very far when a familiar sensation started to prick at his mind. Stopping in his tracks, he glanced over his shoulder and directly at the shadow he knew she was hiding in.

“Hello, Dru,” he said rather evenly, keeping his back to the vampiress.

The raven hair beauty emerged from her hiding spot, her black dress flowing around her white body as her insane grin never wavered on her lips. When she looked like this with her lily skin glowing in the moonlight and that childlike innocence to her there would hardly a man alive that would turn down whatever it was this creature was offering. A hundred and twenty-two years ago, he hadn’t, but he would tonight if she offered. Somehow, he doubted she would.

“Miss Edith told me a man stole my Spike’s body, but I did not believe her. Had I, then maybe I wouldn’t have punished her so badly.”

The bleach blond turned to face her fully. So, she knew about the soul. Still doesn’t explain why she’s here.

“What do you want, Dru?”

She took a step to him, seemingly amazed by him. “You sound so much like him, but the bugs ate my Spike away and left you in his place.”

She reached up to touch his face, but he took her hands away before her skin made contact with his. “Dru.”

His sire frowned at his dismissal of her fascination. “You see! He would never hurt his Mummy like you.”

Spike sighed at her. “You’re right, he wouldn’t have. But you’re talkin’ to me now, pet. What do you want?”

She jerked away from him, then turned her attention upwards to the starless night. “Did he tell you? The stars, they sing to me, tell me stories. They told me one about an angel the other day.”

Angel?!

“Dru, did you see Dylan?”

“I saw death,” she laughed playfully, clapping her hands together. “Death and darkness. But they did not play well together. Death kept cheating darkness.”

“Drusilla,” he practically hissed.

She blinked blankly at him, then held her hands up as she closed her eyes. “Shhhh. Don’t you hear it? Don’t you hear the wolf cry?”

He grabbed her by the shoulders, barely keeping the demon down, though he knew she wouldn’t mind. God, how did she ever not infuriate him with her cryptic messages before? “Drusilla, what is going on?”

“The fates are coming to play. They say it’s time to pay,” she told him, almost seriously. She then pouted, “But they don’t want me to play with them. They say that my part is done. Tell them I can play.”

Spike dropped his shoulders and turned away from her gaze. He wasn’t as good at translating what she was telling him like he used to be, but he knew what she was telling him was bad.

“Better listen to what they have to say,” Spike sighed after a moment.

She gave him a large pair of puppy dog eyes that he was sure he would be seeing more when Dylan got older, then said, “I wish you were still him. We created such beautiful darkness.”

“But I’m not, love,” he told her. She gave him one last sigh, then turned to walk way. Before she got too far, he called to her, “Dru.” She paused and looked back at him. “Don’t ever come back.”

“The slayer shouldn’t worry. I’m gone from everything now,” she told him before disappearing into the shadows.

**********

Steven sat on the balcony, staring out over the city below him. In his world, there was no place like this, only plenty of room for a boy to run and feel free. Here, everything was loud, crowded, and mostly, made him feel like he was trapped in a prison he could not escape from. There were rules here, a society that he did not understand nor wanted to. He missed his home and wished desperately that he was there.

After Justine had murdered his father, the boy had discovered some nasty truths that had been kept from him his whole life. Everything the teen had ever been taught was called into question, including his sense of right and wrong and who he really was. He knew he had been born of two vampires, but, after seeing Angel - his real father - fight all these months, Steven could not say without a doubt that he thought that all vampires or demons were evil and that men were all good. Both his fathers had proven the opposite could be true.

“Hey,” a woman said walking outside to join him. “I thought I might find you here.”

Cordy smiled warmly at the boy as she pulled her jacket a little tighter around her body. The late December nights were bitterly cold for LA, but he didn’t seem to notice that much.

He didn’t know why, but he liked Cordelia. Maybe it was the fact that she was always nice to him and treated him like a normal person instead of ‘Angel’s son’ like so many others seemed to do. She understood what it meant to be different, thanks to the demon that was now inside of her, and he was grateful to have someone who had stood on both sides of the fence.

“Did Angel send you to check on me?” he asked, never taking his eyes off the city.

She drew in a deep breath before she came over and leaned on the balcony that he was sitting on. “No. As far as he knows, I’m still manning the phones downstairs and you’re still in your room. Guess it proves that he doesn’t know everything like he thinks he does.”

Steven bit the inside of his mouth to kill a smile that threatened to come. Angel was the type of person who thought he knew what was best for everyone, not that the boy was any different. It did, however, provide for some very interesting ‘discussions’ that usually involved yelling and the breaking of objects.

“You know,” she continued after a moment of silence, “when you were a baby, I used to bring you out here whenever I couldn’t get you to calm down and Angel wasn’t around to vamp out for you. You loved it out here. Guess you still do.”

“I can think here,” he explained simply.

“About what?”

The boy looked over at the slightly older woman who had an eyebrow raised. “Stuff,” he said.

She couldn’t hold back a snort. “You’re more like your father then you-ugh.”

Steven jerked his head over to see what the matter was and found the woman holding her head as the vision came. He had only seen her do this a few times since coming to stay with Angel, but it still freaked him out.

“Cordy?” the boy said softly. “Cordelia? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she told him carefully, trying to pay attention to what she was seeing. The seer then straighten up, turned to the boy, and said plainly, “Connor, we need to go talk to your father.”

The boy knew that tone; it was the same one that his father had always used when trouble was on the way. Reflexively, he drew in his bottom lip to bite down on it, a bad habit that he had picked up as a child.

“Something’s coming, isn’t it?” he said.

“No,” she said sadly shaking her head. “It’s already here.”

**********

Joyce poured the hot liquid into the cup and handed it over to the middle-aged man that sat at the counter with her weary looking daughter. The sun would be up soon, and none of them had planned on starting the day this early. But a slayer dream and a screaming baby had proven otherwise for them.

Dawn was the only one who had been able to sleep through Dylan’s screaming fit. Joyce wasn’t sure how the teen had been able to do it. After all, her room was further down the hall than the teen’s, but Dawn had always been a sound sleeper. Her mother-in-law used to say that the girl could sleep through a tornado or a hurricane had either one of them ever struck California.

Rupert adjusted his glasses before taking the cup. He took a long sip from it, then turned back to her child. “How long have the dreams been going on?”

Buffy shrugged as she ran her finger along the rim of the coffee cup. The poor girl’s eyes were dark from lack of sleep, and Joyce couldn’t help but wonder how long she could keep up taking care of Dylan, going to school, slaying, and getting absolutely no rest. She would have to remember to speak to Spike about maybe helping out a little more.

“Ever since about May,” she told the coffee cup. “They’ve become more regular since Thanksgiving.”

The Watcher sighed deeply. Seven months and she was just now telling them about it?

“There’s more,” she went on quietly. “I-I think that…” Her voice died in her throat before she finished.

“What, Honey?” Joyce pressed softly as only she could do.

“I think that I’m…sharing the dreams.” She added quickly. “With Dylan.”

“Are you sure?” Rupert asked quickly.

“It’s her in my dreams, Giles. It took me awhile to figure it out, but I know it is. She’s trying to warn me about something, but I don’t know what she’s talking about. And then she’s always crying when I wake up.” She snorted at the last thought. “Actually, it’s more like bawling her little eyes out. You can ask Mom, she heard her this morning.”

Joyce paused for a moment. She had heard Dylan this morning, and there had been more and more nights where the child had woken her up screaming. The older blonde woman had never been able to figure out why a child who always seemed so content and happy would cry like that at night. But, if she were sharing Buffy’s dreams, then it did explain it.

“She has been rather upset at night lately,” her mother offered, not going as far as to agree with her daughter, but not ruling it out either.

Giles looked from one woman to another before pulling his glasses off and beginning to clean them. “I suppose if Dylan really is this ‘dark angel’ like that Becket fellow thought she was, then it could be possible. The problem is she is still only speaking in short sentences and cannot tell us out right if it is true or not. Maybe if she were older-“

“But she’s not,” Buffy told him. “So we’ll just have to go with my instinct here.”

“Which is?” Spike asked.

All three of them turned and found the bleach blond leaning in the open back doorway. His arms were crossed as he stared at Buffy, and Joyce noticed how her daughter seemed to relax slightly with him being there.

“What are you doing here?” the tiny blonde asked.

“Ran into Dru a minute ago,” he told her. “Said something bad was goin’ on, but I guess you already know that.”

“Great, Drusilla, just what we don’t need,” Buffy sighed deeply, turning her attention back to the coffee cup.

“Don’t think we’ll be worrin’ about her, love. Whatever it is, it’s pretty much told her to stay out of it. She was headin’ out of town when she left me. So, what’s your slayer instinct sayin’ we should do here?”

“Major research party for anything that might be going down in the next couple of days with a good, old-fashion shake down at Willy’s to see who might be causing trouble in Sunnyd. You and me can check it out tonight after sunset.”

Giles nodded his head in agreement and was mentally preparing himself for a long Saturday at ‘Scooby Central.’

**********

Tara sat in the large chair she had moved into the dorm room, her legs curled up to her body as she watched the young red head sleep in the bed. It had been nearly a week since Thanksgiving and the young witch seemed to be handling the adjustment back to the real world rather well, or as well as could be expected. She didn’t smile nearly as often as she had before, nor did she display as much confidence, but she was trying to get back to normal.

Tara just didn’t know what to do. It was Willow. There was no doubt about it, but she was different. She was…darker. Yeah, that was a good word for it. Her moods were darker, her clothes were darker, even her eyes somehow seemed darker. But that should be expected, she supposed. After all, she did just get back from the Shadow World.

That was another mystery in itself. The witch had never gone into detail of how she had returned from the place. She just left the Scoobies to guess. Giles had tired to pry into it, but Willow had quickly shut out the questions by leaving the room complaining she was tired and didn’t want to talk about it. They had agreed that she just needed time, but she needed to speak to someone about it soon. Tara didn’t care if it was with her or not, just someone.

Willow’s small body stirred in the large bed. She was grunting lowly to herself when the nightmares came on yet again. Tara wished there was something she could do to help her. It was true that she could use magic to make her forget, to help her to become her old self again, but she wouldn’t do that. Magic was never the way when it came to such problems; and, if one did use it in that manner, it was highly addictive. The young witch had seen others fall into it like that, and there was nothing sadder than to see a magic junkie looking for the next fix.

“No, please,” Willow whimpered lowly into the pillow as she slept. “Please, leave me alone.”

Tara stood from the large chair, the silk robe that Dawn had given her for a Christmas present last year falling around her body. She bent down next to the restless sleeper, reached out to offer comfort, but kept her hand just barely away from her face.

“No, don’t,” Willow said as the shut eyes began to have slits of water glisten at their ends.

“Willow,” Tara said softly gently shaking her shoulder.

“No,” the woman muttered again, not waking from the contact.

“Willow,” she said again.

“No, no, no, no,” she repeated starting to jerk forcefully. Tara sat up, unsure what she should do as Willow began to cry. There was something building around the red head, but she didn’t know what. “NO!!” she screamed, her body lifting upward from the bed.

The room seemed to explode from some kind of energy that lifted the blonde up off the bed and tossed her to the ground. Pictures and books were knocked over, and the glass vase that held the Japanese Fighting fish shattered, spilling the water all over the desk.

Willow fell limply back onto the bed with a thud, then moaned as she slowly regained consciousness. Tara lifted herself up off the ground and Willow began to look around the room as confused as she had been the night she wondered into Buffy’s yard. This was not good.

“Tara?” she asked weakly.

The blonde scrambled across the soft bed, scooped the still shaking red head into her arms, and began to rock her tiny body back and forth. “It’s okay,” she whispered holding her.

But she knew it was anything but okay. Somehow, Willow had tapped into something unconsciously that she wasn’t supposed to. It may be just a residual effect from being stuck in the Shadow World; after all, no one knew anything about that place because no one has ever returned from it, but Tara wasn’t sure. This was all just too…strange.

“It’s okay,” she said again, kissing the top of her head, trying to reassure herself of the same thing.

**********

Part 2: Hello Again

Dawn yawned widely as she hit the lights and headed back towards her room in a groggy state. She hated early morning bathroom calls, especially when that early morning happened to be on Saturday. Saturday was supposed to be her sleep until noon, get up, have lunch, take a nap before going out and meeting her friends at the Bronze day, not get up at the crack of dawn day. She silently cursed whoever had come up with the Big Gulp idea.

“Seven months, Slayer?” the teen heard a familiar British voice drift up the stairs. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell any of us?!”

The brown-haired girl quietly moved down the stairs, careful to avoid the parts she knew would squeak. She bent down low to peer through the railing and into the living room. Standing there in front of the couch was her sister and the bleach blond blood-sucker, as Xander called him. Spike had his back to the teen, but Dawn could tell he was upset at her dorky sister over something. Buffy had her arms crossed as she gave him an annoyed look.

“And what was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, while we’re surprising everyone with news about my return, Spike being souled, Dylan, and Willow’s return, I just want to add that I might be having slayer dreams about a wolf.’ I thought we had enough to deal with at the moment, thank you very much.”

Slayer dreams?! File that under things Dawn really didn’t want to hear.

He sighed at her sarcastic tone. “What, love? Did you just think that if you ignored it long enough it’d go away? You know as well as I do that’s not goin’ to happen. Not if they really are slayer dreams.”

She watched her sister’s annoyance melt away to an almost pleading, childlike look. The teen hadn’t seen her sister look that vulnerable since…well, since ever. Even when she was depressed over their parents’ split-up, or when Angel was causing her so much pain, Buffy never allowed anyone to see her vulnerable. She was supposed to be the rock for everyone else to stand on, and vulnerability showed weakness. Yet, from her perch on the stairs, Dawn could easily see her sister letting whatever barriers she had up crumble in front of him. The teen didn’t think anyone could ever get Buffy to do that.

“I know,” her sister sighed in response. “I just thought that…I don’t know what I thought. I mean, I haven’t had an official slayer dream since-well, Angel.”

Dawn heard Spike let out a deep breath. Though she still couldn’t see his face, she knew his anger at her sister was dying as fast as her sister’s annoyance with him. His shoulders relaxed before her glanced down at the ground, then looked back up at Buffy.

“It scares me, Spike,” she continued. “It really scares me to think Dylan’s having slayer dreams with me. I mean, they’re hard enough on me. I can’t imagine how scary they must be for her.”

“Yeah, I know love,” he said as he reached over and pulled her into a hug.

Dawn’s eyes were wide. Oh man! She knew it! She knew there had to be more going on between them than the whole ‘we’re just friends’ thing they’d been pedaling. The teen couldn’t hold back the very large smile that surfaced on her face, and was barely able to keep a very girlish, teenage squeal from escaping her mouth.

He was ever so slowly rocking the slayer as Buffy laid her head against his chest and said, “It’s just so-Dawn!!”

The teen jerked in surprise from being caught, which caused her to lose her footing. Her body twisted as she fell down the stairs butt first and hit every one of them on the way down. She landed with a loud thud on the foyer floor. Her back side was throbbing while she laid there on the ground, looking straight up at the ceiling, and then two worried adult faces.

“Dawn,” Buffy called.

“You alright, Niblet?”

“Good heavens,” Giles said coming in through the dining room with Joyce. He helped Spike lift the girl to her feet, then asked, “What happened?”

Buffy smirked at her sister before crossing her arms and saying, “Oh, Dawn was just demonstrating her catlike agility.”

Giles ignored the comment for the moment and kept his attention on the teen. “Are you hurt?”

“Only my pride,” she answered, wincing in pain. “And my butt.”

“Serves you right for spying,” Buffy said childishly.

“I wasn’t spying! I was…listening without being noticed.”

Buffy rolled her eyes as the others adults gave light groans. Some things would never change.

“Yes, well, if you’re sure you’re alright, Dawn, then I guess I best be on my way,” Giles said, giving the girl the once over before heading for the door. “It’s nearly time to open, and there are several books I need to retrieve from my home before we meet at the shop.”

“Yeah, I better get goin’ myself,” Spike agreed. “Overcast provides some protection, but no tellin’ when it’s goin’ to clear up.”

Dawn studied her sister reaction carefully. Buffy gave a barely noticeable sigh, and then said, “Right, sun plus vampire equals very bad thing.”

Spike smiled at the simple way she put it. “Yeah, love. So, I’ll get to the Magic Box later today.”

“Okay,” she smiled back before he headed for the door with the still apparently oblivious Giles. After they left, the slayer watched the closed door for a few moments, then turned to her mother and sister. Joyce looked confused about something while Dawn just flashed a knowing smile. “What?”

“Nothing,” Dawn beamed. Oh, yeah. She so digs him.

Buffy gave her a strange look, then charged back up stairs, muttering something about getting ready.

“Did I…miss something?” Joyce asked her youngest daughter.

The brown-haired girl couldn’t take it anymore. She gave her teenage squeal, then relayed everything she had seen to her mother.

**********

Buffy wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at the reflection in it. She was going to be meeting the others at the Magic Box in less than an hour, but she really didn’t feel like going. What she really wanted to do was to go back and hide in her bed with Dylan until this was all over.

Everything had just started to go right in her life. She had gone back to school and was actually doing well, her family and friends were being extremely supportive with her and Dylan, she had her own money for the first time in life, and there had been no major disasters or apocalypses since they arrived back in town. There hadn’t been the slightest sign of a Big Bad. But now there was and she was terrified.

If it had only been her, she would have never given it a second thought. That was what she did, who she was, the Slayer, hunter of the baddies and defender of the good. Now, however, it wasn’t just her. She had Dylan to think of, and her daughter getting hurt because of something like this scared her more than the Master or Glory or even Angelus ever could.

Buffy knew if anything ever happened to her that Dylan would be well taken care of. There would always be someone for her, whether it be Dawn or her mother or Giles or one of the guys.

Of course, they would all have to come after Spike. He swore to her once that he would never leave Dylan, and she was going to hold him to his word, even if she had to do it from beyond the grave.

She sighed at the thought of the bleach blond. Buffy didn’t how she felt about him anymore. It was so simple before; he hated her, she hated him, and they were happy that way. Now things were different, and she didn’t know how they got that way.

Thanksgiving had been the first time she really knew something had changed between them. First there was the kiss, that sweet kiss they had shared on the front porch. Even now, a week later, she still blushed when she thought about it. She found herself wishing that they would share more like that, but then came the memories of the fight.

Buffy wished she could tell him. They didn’t hold back secrets before, and she felt bad that she had to now. She knew she wasn’t alone in the knowledge about her baby sister, that she could always go and talk to Joyce or Giles about it, but she wanted to be able to talk to him about it. Spike always understood better than anyone she had known before.

She sighed again, then turned away from the reflection and began to get dressed. She wouldn’t let herself think about this. Everything would be fine, just like always. She didn’t know how, but it would be.

The slayer turned off the bathroom light and headed back into her own room to find Dylan was still asleep in her crib. The child had finally gotten back to sleep soon after their dream, and now was sleeping like a rock. When the girl wanted to, she could sleep as soundly as anyone Buffy had ever met before. Must get from Dawn, or maybe Spike.

Buffy looked out the twin windows above the crib. Over head, the sky had a thick layer of gray clouds cover up the blue, looking every bit the part of a winter’s day. Normally, she didn’t like it when the weather was like this, but she could use this to her advantage. The weather man had said it was supposed to stay like this all day and she hoped she would be able to get Spike out this afternoon so they could go pay Willy the Snitch an early visit. No harm in asking at least. Besides, the sooner they had information, the better she would feel.

“Come on, baby,” Buffy said, reaching down into the crib and picking the sleepy toddler up. “Let’s go see your Daddy before we go meet Grandpa Giles and the others.”

“No, sweep,” Dylan protested. She was starting to put together small sentences now, a major accomplishment for any child, but her mother found herself really wishing that the child could form larger ones to tell them what was happening. That is, if the child knew herself.

Dylan was fussy for as long as Buffy was dressing her, but, once her clothes were changed, the child’s demeanor did a one eighty and now she was ready to go anywhere her mother was willing to take her.

When Buffy finished, the now energetic child held her tiny arms up and said, “Swayer, up.”

Her mother dropped her shoulders before doing as the child asked. “It’s Mommy, Dylan,” she told her grabbing the blue jean baby bag and heading downstairs.

The child gave her mother a smirk that looked far too much like her father’s, and Buffy knew for a fact that the girl was calling her that because she didn’t like it. She was so Spike’s daughter.

Buffy shook her head as she reached the bottom of the stairs, then called back up them, “Dawn, we’re leaving.”

“Just a minute!” the teen called back and she could hear the shuffling coming from her sister’s room.

That’s great. A minute in teenage time meant at least another ten in regular.

“You have exactly one minute then I’m going with or without you,” Buffy said loudly.

The slayer wandered into the living room to wait, when Joyce walked in from the kitchen, nursing a fresh cup of coffee. “Are you sure you don’t want me to watch her for the day? A baby can be awful distracting if you’re trying to do research.”

Buffy gave her mother a weary smile. Usually, she did let Dylan stay with her mother when she had official Scooby business to attend to, but she didn’t want the child out of her sight today for some reason. She pushed the child a little higher up in her arms, then said, “It’s okay. Anya’s got the pen set up in the store already for Jessie, and she’ll be there, so they should keep each other busy.”

Joyce nodded, seemingly understanding more than Buffy thought. “Alright, dear. But I’ll be here if you change your mind.”

“I’m ready,” Dawn said, charging down the stairs, straightening out a purple crushed velvet shirt.

“Well, I’m glad you finally decided to join us,” Buffy answered sarcastically joining her sister near the front door. “Come on. We’ve got to stop by Spike’s place first.”

She came close to saying his crypt, but stopped just short. He didn’t live in the old place anymore, and that seemed beyond strange to her. The bleach blond had actually rented an apartment soon after they had moved back saying that he didn’t want Dylan running around an old cemetery when she came to see her da’. Buffy didn’t disagree with the decision, she didn’t want Dylan in a cemetery any more then he did, but she did kind of miss the place. She missed the candles being lit and the glow they gave the place. Not that she would ever admit to that in a millions years, but still, it was a good place to hide out when they needed it.

He had let some demon buddy of his named Clem move into the place. Clem was a good guy, once you got past the floppy skin and kitty eating thing, and said he would let them hide out or crash there whenever they liked. That would never happen, but it was good to know for just-in-case emergencies.

“Okay,” Dawn said with a sly smile as Buffy fastened Dylan into the stroller. “And since we’re going that way, can we stop by McDonald’s for a Quarter Pounder?”

Buffy rolled her eyes at her sister as she went towards the door. She had just seen that girl scarf down two eggs and a thing of bacon and she was sure that Xander would have made one of his donut runs by the time they got there, and she still wanted to stop by McDonalds for more?

“You are such a porker, Dawn,” she sighed.

“Am not!” the teen yelled, horrified that her sister would even suggest such a thing.

“Are too,” Buffy smirked as she pulled on her jacket.

“Am not.”

The two girls fell silent as the slayer stood there with the door open in her hand, both staring straight ahead at the person in front of them. Buffy felt her mouth go dry as she watched him shift nervously on his feet.

“Hello, Buffy,” Angel said.

**********

Anya frowned as she watched Willow grab a bottle of black sand off the shelf and placed it with the other items that she and Tara had collected for the protection spell for the Magic Box. Didn’t they know that black sand wasn’t cheap? It had to be special ordered all the way from the lower planes of India where one little old man knew where to find it. And he didn’t get it often!

But did Giles care? Nooooo. ‘Oh, no, Anya, don’t charge them. This is important. I don’t care if I go broke and die penniless in the street while you and your family starve because I give my friends special discounts.’ After working for the man for so long, the young woman had finally just decided that he knew nothing of how to be a good business man.

When the two witches had gathered their supplies and headed out the back door to begin, the bell over the front door rang out brightly, lifting Anya’s spirits with thought of a customer. She watched the sandy blond-haired man as he browsed around, carefully inspecting one item after another. When she felt this had gone on long enough, she came around the counter, planted that large smile she saved for when she felt a big sale coming on her face, and joined the man in the showplace.

“Can I help you?” she asked politely though her large smile. She had learned that people tend to buy more when you seem like you really want to help them and are nice.

The young man returned the smile and he picked up a package of troll wood moss. Oh, good, that stuff is nice and expensive too, she thought.

“Ah, yeah,” he said tossing the little baggy back onto the counter. “I’m looking for a book, Magicus de Praeteritum Tempus.”

“Oh, yes, I do believe we have a copy of it,” she told him leading him over to the counter before ducking behind it quickly.

He leaned against the counter as she began to dig around on the lower shelf where Giles had stashed the more expensive books. While she looked for the one he requested, the young man glanced over to the area under the loft that she had converted into a play area for Jessie so she wouldn’t have to leave her at home. The eight-month-old was sitting there in the middle, quietly chewing on a stuffed ret’yama demon that her Uncle D’Hoffryn had sent her. He made a face at the disgusting looking creature she was playing with, as her mother found the book and slammed it on the counter.

“This book has all sorts of protection spells in it, and all the ingredients that you will need are sold right here in the store,” she said brightly. He began to flip through the old, leather bound edition, silently making mental notes of pages. “There is one spell in there I highly recommend. The ingredients cost a little more, but you can’t beat its results. I used it on my home. I could go ahead and gather them up if you like.”

“Hum?” he said, having stopped listening to her some time back. “Ah, yeah, that sounds good.”

She knew it! This guy was going to be a good sale.

The ex-demon came back around the counter and into the main area they had just been in a few moments before. When she was gathering the ingredients, he called to her, “Is it true that there is a spell in here to strip a person of their powers?”

“Strip a person of their powers?”

“You know, make them normal, like us.”

Anya shrugged. “Yes, I believe there is one, but it is highly dangerous, even for the most experienced person.” She picked up the last of the ingredients and headed back around the counter. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Just curious is all.”

The little blond woman began to ring him up, knowing the sale was going to be at least two hundred dollars, happy that she would make some money today. The man, however, just kept looking over at Jessie, who was watching her mother work.

“That your kid?” he asked, nudging his head towards the baby.

“Oh, yes,” Anya said placing his things inside a bag. “That’s my little precious Jessica Diamond. That will be two hundred and fifteen dollars.”

“Jessica Diamond?” he asked with a raised eyebrow counting out his cash.

She took the wad of green bills and counted them out again to be sure he had given her the right amount. “Oh, yes. That’s her name. I wanted to call her diamond because those gems are so sparkly and pretty and expensive, but my husband insisted that we call her Jessie after some old friend of his. Can I help it that he had to kill him?”

The young man blinked at the woman before taking the bag from her. “Um, I guess not.” He backed away from her and headed for the front door.

“Thank you,” she called to his back. “Shop with us again.”

The shop’s bell rang again as the man reached the door, and Willow walked inside. Anya watched as the two eyed each other hard before he passed her and disappeared into to the street. The red head watched the direction he left in before hurrying inside.

“Who was that?” she demanded from the young woman who was working behind the counter.

“Who?”

“That guy! Who was he?”

“I don’t know, just some guy,” she shrugged. “He bought lots of expensive things, and actually paid for them in cash. Unlike some people.”

Drawing a deep breath, Willow glanced over her shoulder back at the door. “I don’t like him,” she said shaking her head. “There’s something off. I could feel it.”

Anya raised an eyebrow at that statement. “He seemed perfectly normal to me.”

“Well, if he comes back, don’t sell him anything else. We don’t want a repeat of what happened with Glory,” she warned, grabbed the rest of the black sand she had left on the table, and hurried back outside before Anya could protest.

**********

Buffy stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, watching the older vampire who was staring at the toddler that was standing up in her play pen, studying the strange new man who had come to visit. He didn’t look as if he quite knew what to make of her, and the child had the odd look of fascination as she cocked her head to the side and let her little mouth drop ever so slightly open. Angel jerked his eyes closed and turned away from her; Buffy knew why. It was, as Xander had put it, the ‘Spike look,’ and a painful little reminder to Angel about who Dylan’s father really was.

He had taken the news as well as could be expected from him. When she told him, he just looked at her stone faced, never changing emotion from the even face that he had perfected over the years, but she saw the fire dance behind his eyes. He was angry, upset, but, most of all, hurt.

Still, there was nothing to be done now, and she wouldn’t change it even if there were. Not for him, not for anyone.

Thankfully, her sister picked up very quickly that this was a place that she didn’t want to be, so she grabbed the young boy that had come with Angel and the polite, understanding creature that had once been Cordelia Chase, and took off for the Magic Box to let everyone know what was up. Dawn had the strictest instructions to head strait for the shop, but Buffy had a feeling that she may have made a detour to a certain bleached friend’s apartment.

“Angel,” Dylan said, smiling brightly at him, waiting for the happy reaction that all the others gave her whenever she said their name correctly.

But he just looked at her, his lips never wavering from the strait line, and her little face began to fall and darken. Looks like it’s time for Mom to step in. Buffy glanced around the room and found her stuffed dog lying on the end of the couch that Angel sat on.

“Dylan,” she said as she walked over and picked up the animal. “You want your dog?”

“Willow!” the baby cried happily, forgetting about the mean man that sat in front of her. “Want Willow.”

As she gave it to her, Angel raised an eyebrow. “Willow?”

“Don’t ask,” Buffy sighed sitting down next to him. “It’s confusing as hel-heck now that Willow’s back. I don’t think she particularly likes a dog being named after her either,” she said with a shallow laugh.

“I can see why,” he answered, the awkward silence coming yet again. “Did he…force himself-?”

“What? God, no!” she cut him off. “It was a spell. I told you that.”

“Are you sure he had nothing to do with it?” he asked coolly. “Because this is Spike we’re talking about. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, Angel, that makes a lot of sense. I’m sure Spike just woke up one night, said, ‘Hum, I’m bored so why don’t I go get myself kidnapped, put into isolation for months, knock the slayer up, then spend the next year runnin’ around the globe because some crazy witch wants the kid.’ Yeah, that just screams ‘Spike.’”

“You don’t know him like I do, Buffy,” he bit back, his own temper rising.

She gave him a good, long, cold stare. “I know him a lot better than you think.” Her anger began to die as she looked down at the little girl before them who was now sitting in the play pen, quietly cuddling with her stuffed animal. “He’s different, Angel. Even before the soul he was.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about the soul,” he grumbled coldly. “How do you even know it’s really there, Buffy? Does he feel sorry for the things he’s done? Does he mourn for the people he killed like I do? Tell me, Buffy. If you know him so well, does he?”

“He’s not you, Angel,” she told him, avoiding his accusing gaze.

“But he was close enough to get you to sleep with him,” he said under his breath, but loud enough to where she could hear him.

Without a thought, she spun around and slapped him hard across the face, causing his head to jerk to the side. Dylan looked up at the sound, but her mother was to busy concentrating on the person before her to notice.

“How dare you say something like that to me? I was under a spell then. We both were.” She then sneered, “You have a son with Darla. What’s your excuse?”

He frowned deeply at her choice of words and the point she had made. Then? He didn’t like what that meant.

“I knew this was a mistake to talk to you alone,” she said after a moment, her voice becoming softer with every word. “I just wanted you to understand.”

The tiny blonde stood up from the couch, picked Dylan up out of the pen, and disappeared out the front door to meet up with her friends.

**********

TBC

Part 3: The Gathering

Marie pulled back the cheap hotel’s thick, radiation proof curtains and checked for the familiar blue Taurus, only to find that it still hadn’t returned. It had been nearly an hour, where on earth could he be? It wasn’t like this was some huge town that he could get lost in. Hell, she had been to villages in Japan that were bigger then this place. Not to mention nicer.

“Re,” a little voice said from beside her as a tiny hand pulled on the bottom of her over sized peasant shirt.

She glanced down at her side and found the little three-year-old staring up at her with his large, tired brown eyes. His Spider Man t-shirt he wore was horribly wrinkled from his nap.

“When’s Daddy coming home?” he asked, a slight pout forming on his lips.

A kind smile formed on hers as she reached over and rubbed the side of his head. Unlike his father, Van a had head full of dark brown hair, reminding the young woman how much he actually looked like her sister. She wished so badly that she was still alive. If nothing else, so she could be here instead of her.

“Soon, baby,” she told him sweetly.

“I hope so,” the child told her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and laid his little head on her hip. “Night’s coming. Bad things come out at night. Like the bad things that sent Mommy to heaven.”

“I know,” she said, trying to sooth her nephew with a gentle rocking motion. “But that’s why Daddy’s here, remember?”

He nudged his little head closer into her side, and, to her relief, she heard the lock to the room being turned. Van’s face brightened when his father step through, carrying a large bag with ‘The Magic Box’ printed on its side. The child let go of his aunt and leapt to his father.

“Hey, buddy,” he said kneeling down to his level. “Have a good nap?”

“Uh, huh,” the child said bobbing his head up and down before noticing the bag. “Daddy, what’s that?”

Eric looked down at the shopping bag, then back at his son. “Something for your Aunt Marie. Now, why don’t you go wash up, and I’ll take us out to eat. How about at…Doublemeat?”

“Yeah!” the three-year-old exclaimed before he took off for the bathroom and left the two adults alone in the room.

Inwardly, Marie shuttered at the thought of eating at the disgusting place again. Just something about there being two kinds of meat in the thing made her stomach turn, not to mention the fact that it taste like neither beef nor chicken. But Eric just smiled at his son’s excitement for such a cheap meal before turning to his sister-in-law.

“Here,” he said handing the bag over to her. “Hope it’s the right kind of stuff. The sales girl just kept pulling these little bags off the shelf and shoving them in there.”

“Not to mention she over-charged you,” the woman answered, holding up a little bag of cat tooth powder. “How much did you spend?”

He sighed as he walked over to the table and flopped down in one of the chairs. “Let me put it to you this way. There’s a reason why we’ll be eating from the value meal for the next couple of days. So, you think you can do it with this stuff?”

“Oh, yeah, no problem. We just need one more thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “A lock of the girl’s hair.”

Eric groaned as he leaned back on the bed. Marie knew that was easier said than done, but there was no other way.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll get it, somehow.”

“Good, I’ll call the boss then and let him know what’s up,” she said as she tucked away the supplies. “Come Monday, this should all be over with.”

“I hope you’re right.”

**********

Travers sat back in his chair, staring out the large window in his office at the dark city bathed in a thick cover of fog. In less than two weeks, the child would be a full year old, and she was still beyond his control. It wasn’t right, she was his project, his prize, and she was still with that slayer and that…thing. Disgusting really, not to mention disgraceful.

Lindsey had been sensing her boss’ down mood and felt it best if she avoided him. He didn’t even remember the last time she had actually come into his office; just called him over the intercom if there were a call or let in a person with a scheduled appointment. Tonight was no exception.

“Mr. Travers,” a tiny voice came. “There’s a call for you on line two.”

“Thank you, Lindsey,” he replied before picking up the phone. “Travers.”

“Hello, Mr. Travers,” a woman answered coolly, causing the Watcher to sit up straight.

“Ah, it is so good to hear from you, my dear. Tell me, how are things?”

“Going very well, Sir. Though, I fear that the witch may be starting to suspect something.”

He frowned deeply at the news. “That is unfortunate. Do you think she’ll be a problem before you are able to fulfill your job?”

The woman on the other end snorted. “No. And even if she is, I can take care of that very easily.”

“Excellent,” he said with a wicked smile, feeling his spirits lifting with the news. “Do not forget our deal, Ms-“

“I haven’t. I give you what you want and we’re even.”

“Of course, my dear,” he lied. If she really thought that this would be the end of their association, she was seriously mistaken. “I look forward to seeing you and the child soon.”

“Sure, whatever,” she answered, sounding rather annoyed before hanging up.

The old man sat back in his chair and laughed slightly to himself. Well, maybe he would be celebrating the first year of life with the little precious herself after all.

**********

Angel paused at the entrance to the Magic Box. He knew he shouldn’t have said those things to Buffy; he knew when those words passed out of his mouth that he shouldn’t have, but he had. That look on her face hurt a hundred times worse then the sting of the slap.

He sighed deeply from within. Well, time to face the music.

The little bell rang out loudly as he pushed the door open and he felt the tension hit him in a hard wave when he stepped inside. The whole room paused and turned to look at him, half with scolding eyes, the others leaving him to deal with this on his own. Oh, this was definitely not good.

Buffy was standing over by the counter, the other women of the group forming an almost protective circle around her and the baby she held. Her usually bright hazel eyes were still dark from hurt as she pushed Dylan a little higher on her hip, and then said, “I’m going to go train in the back.”

“Buffy-“ he said gently, taking a step in the direction she was fleeing, but Dawn moved in his way, her arms crossed and the iciest glare on her face that he had ever seen before.

Cordy, who had much the same look on her face, grabbed him by the arm and started to pull him back towards the door saying, “We need to talk. Now.”

Angel cringed inwardly. He knew that tone, and this wasn’t going to be pretty. She dragged him out front, crossed her arms, and shifted all her weight to one foot. Her eyes were hard as she bit at him, “What the hell is wrong with you? Did that part of your brain that tells you when not to say something just stop working today or something?”

“Cordy-“

“Because, I swear that if you’d said that to me, you’d be calling the Dust Buster in the utility closet home.”

He dug his hands deep into his pockets as he looked down to the sidewalk. Cordelia became very nervous herself as she shifted on her feet and carefully asked, “Are you still in love with her?”

His head shot up at that. “What? No. I’m not. We’re just friends…or we were.”

“So, then why were you playing The Jerk?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I-I don’t know,” he said sighing. “I mean, she told me about her and…She told me who Dylan’s father is, and-I don’t know. I just got mad. I mean Spike-Spike!-has a child, her child. He got to see her first steps and hear her first words and he’ll get to be there for the first day of school and hear her call him daddy. He doesn’t deserve to have that.”

Cordy blinked as she listened to him. “You’re jealous.”

“What? No.”

“Yes, yes you are! You’re jealous of Spike.”

He glared at her for a moment, determined that she was wrong. He was not jealous of Spike, the annoying vampire had nothing he wanted. Just because his grandchilde got to have a pretty little girl, who would love him no matter what, and look to him for answers and comfort, and would never look at him with contempt because of what he was…Oh, God, he was jealous. Spike was going to get to have the life with Dylan that Angel never got to have with Connor, and that made the elder vampire angry. Why would the PTB’s allow the bleach blond to have that life and not him? It wasn’t fair. Spike didn’t deserve it, but, then, neither did he.

“Well, you’re just going have to get over it,” Cordelia’s voice broke through his thoughts. “I mean, look, I’m not all ‘yeah, go Spike’ or anything, but if you want to keep Buffy as your friend, I suggest that you get over it.”

“It’s not that simple, Cordy,” he said solemnly.

She sighed. “I know it’s not. But, remember, we’re here to help Buffy, not attack her and her life choices. If we were, I would have been all over that outfit she has on. I mean, hello, the peasant look is so yesterday.”

Angel couldn’t help but smile at her. She hadn’t even been back in town one night and she was already tapping her old May Queen persona. Must be something to do with the Hellmouth. Brings out the worst in everyone.

“Besides,” she went on. “If Dylan really is Spike’s, then that kind of makes her part of your family. Which means we’ve got some major catching up to do in the spoiling department if we want her to be as bad as Xander’s little girl.”

He laughed softly at her. Spoiling the girl rotten did have a certain nice evil quality to it.

“Now, go apologize to Buffy and let the spoiling begin. I want that kid so rotten by the time we leave that they’ll shutter the next time we call and say we’re coming up.”

Angel bent over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Cordy,” he said before heading into the shop to do just as the seer suggested.

**********

Buffy stood in front of the black bag, continuously punching it as hard as she could while Dylan watched in amazement from her play pen.

How dare he come here and judge her for something she had no control over! He at least knew what he was doing when he slept with Darla! But does that matter? No. Cause he’s Angel and he gets to make mistakes and not have anything said to him. But because she was Buffy, his pure, innocent slayer led to corruption by his wayward grandchilde, he could judge her life all he wanted. That just wasn’t fair!

She reared back and punched the bag with all her might, knocking it off the hinges and causing it to land on the ground with a loud thud.

“Well, it’s good to know that if we ever get attacked by a legion of evil punchin’ bags you can take ‘em,” Spike said sarcastically, leaning in the doorway from the alley.

The slayer glared over her shoulder at him before starting to take off the tape wrapped around her hands.

“Daddy!” Dylan chirped happily, holding up her arms to him. “Up.”

He smiled kindly at the child before complying with her wish. She snuggled into the cool, soft leather jacket as he kissed her forehead and turned his attention back to her mother.

“Take it Peaches ‘as been givin’ you a hard time,” he said calmly daring to get a little closer to her, though he knew he would be risking himself. Even if he was holding the baby, she could still take him out in a second flat and be holding Dylan in her own arms before he hit the ground. He’d much rather not go into how he knew that.

Buffy grunted as she jerked off the top to her water bottle. So he had talked to Dawn.

“You can say that,” she snorted before taking a sip of the liquid like it was vodka instead of water. “I mean, where the hell does he get off riding me for what happened? It’s not like he was in the picture then anyway.”

Spike frowned at her words. He wasn’t in the picture then?

“I mean, come on, give the jealous boyfriend act a rest already,” she said shaking her head slowly.

She knew he wasn’t really mad at her, he was mad at the situation, and, since Spike wasn’t there, he lashed out at her. Like the rest of her friends, it would take him awhile to get used to it, but he would eventually. Though, she didn’t think that she should plan on him ever liking the fact that Dylan was Spike’s child. That’s okay, though. She really didn’t like the fact that Connor was Darla’s son, so she guessed they were even there.

“Sorry I wasn’t there for you, love,” Spike said, shifting Dylan in his arms as she played with the lapel of his coat.

The slayer gave him a weary smile. “It’s okay. If you had been, I’d probably been empting what’s left of you into the trash right about now.”

“What? You think I couldn’t take on dear old Grandpappy?” he asked with a smirk.

“In a word? No.”

He laughed at her. “Okay, come on, Buffy. I could kick the poof’s-“

“Buffy, I-“ Angel voice called, cutting Spike off. The older vampire froze in the doorway, his eyes locked on the younger vampire. If looks could kill, Spike thought idly as he shifted Dylan in his arms. “You,” his grandsire hissed.

Spike smirked at the poof. “’ello, Peaches, it’s been awhile since I last tortured you.”

“Peaches!” Dylan repeated happily, causing Spike to smirk even more if it where possible.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered softly in her ear.

But Angel didn’t seem to notice the small child in his arms. In fact, he was across the room in a second flat and had Spike pinned against the wall by the throat. Dylan began to cry as her father tried to keep his grandsire off with one arm, and maneuver her with the other.

“Get off!” Buffy exclaimed in a horrified tone, jerking her ex to the ground and placing herself between the two. She took the screaming child from her father, began rocking her, and then turned her venomous stare toward her old flame. “Are you insane?! You could have hurt Dylan!”

Angel blinked from the ground and looked at the child in her arms, seeing her for the first time since he had come into the training room. “Oh, Buffy, I’m sorry.”

“Buffy!” Dawn said rushing in with Giles. “What’s wrong? Why’s Dylan screaming like that?”

The slayer gave Angel a cold look before turning her attention back to her sister. “She just got a little scared is all,” she said kissing the child on the head. “I think she’ll be okay in a minute.”

“Yeah, as long as the great hair gelled one stays away from her,” Spike added coldly.

His grandsire growled lowly at the comment, but Buffy quickly shut him up with a look before passing her baby to Dawn. The tiny blonde then said to Spike, “Come on, let’s head to Willy’s. I’m suddenly really in the mood to beat something up.”

Cordy was standing by the door as the slayer passed, a confused look on her face as the two headed out the front entrance. The seer then turned from the door, and glared at Angel, who was still sitting on the ground. “That’s not what I meant when I said apologize.”

**********

TBC

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