**********

A chill nipped at Joyce as she walked through the cemetery to the plot in the far back. She was gripping tightly onto the flowers she had brought, hoping that the frost wouldn’t kill them by the next morning.

She found the plot and gently laid them on top of the grass that had long since taken root. Joyce didn’t like the fact that they didn’t have a body to bury, but, like the police had explained, the surf that night had been ruff, and she was probably dragged out into the ocean from it. Instead, all they had was the jacket, which was what rested six feet below her in a box Xander had carved himself.

She reached up and brushed away a few stray leaves that had rested themselves on the headstone as she read it for, what seemed like, the millionth time.

Buffy Anne Summers

1981-2001

Beloved Daughter and Sister

She Saved The World...A lot.

Joyce couldn’t help but smile at the last part. That had been Xander’s exact words when he gave the eulogy at the small service they had held. It was so true that Joyce had asked them to put it on the stone. She knew that the engravers probably thought she was nuts, but it didn’t matter. That was her daughter, and that was what she did, she deserved a phrase that was strictly hers.

“Hi, Honey,” she said as if she could hear her.

Well, people talk to these graves all the time, most not realizing that half of them were empty. At least she knew her daughter wasn’t buried under this dirt. Just a jacket, but that was all she had.

“I just thought I stop by on my way to the church. Yeah, the big day’s finally here. Xander and Anya are actually getting married. I hope they’re happy together. Dawn’s already there, or she would have been here with me. You should see her, Buffy. She’s grown up so much.”

She paused for a moment. Dawn, her baby girl, wasn’t really her child and still blissfully ignorant to the fact. Well, looks like mom did get to help her daughter in her slaying duties after all. She got to protect something that is more valuable then anything to them.

“She’s actually Anya’s maid of honor, you know. She was pretty excited about it, until she saw that awful green dress that Anya’s making her wear,” Joyce laughed. “I don’t think she’ll ever forgive her for that one.”

There was another pause as Joyce looked around at the other graves. Some looked like they had been neglected for years, while, others, looked as if someone had been there just before she arrived. There was crypt off in the distance, which caused the woman to frown.

She wondered whatever happened to Spike. He had disappeared about the same time Buffy had, and none of them had heard a word since then. They were all so trouble over what had happened to the slayer and with Glory to even notice he left, until Dawn said something about going to see him one afternoon only to find him gone. Her youngest hadn’t been happy about his sudden departure, and Joyce hadn’t either, but, with the others, there hadn’t been in real loss of love. In fact, she had caught Xander doing a ‘happy dance’ at the news of his disappearance and she thoroughly scolded him for it.

She drugged her thoughts away from the missing vampire, and turned them back to her beautiful daughter.

“Well, I can’t stay long. I just wanted to bring these by. I’ll be back in a few days though, I promise. After all, it’s almost Christmas, and Dawn wants to put up a little Christmas tree for you because she knew how much you loved them.”

She stood from her crouching position, and dusted off her nice black pants that had a few shreds of grass clinging onto it.

Running her hand across the top of the grave, she said, “I love you.”

Then, she walked back out the way she came, hoping she wasn’t going to be late for the children wedding.

******

Prague.

It was snowing hard in the Czech city. The news had said it was near white out conditions, whatever that meant. All she knew was that it was cold, and she was having problems seeing things past a block. Spike had been right about it being a pretty place, but she hadn’t gotten to see much it from the snow. Well, she always did want a white, white Christmas, and not one that it only snowed to save her suicidal boyfriend.

She passed a fat Santa who was mechanically ringing his bell for people to drop money into the little red pot beside him. Must be this countries version of the Red Cross giving, was only thing she could figure. He laughed hardily, with one hand on his large stomach, but the effect was pretty much ruined by his wearing of a brown Browning coat.

Buffy passed over a cobble stone bridge and headed towards a town house that looked like ever other one on the street. A few children were playing in the snow, but there wasn’t a lot of room for them to move that wasn’t in the middle of the street. At least there wasn’t a lot of traffic that afternoon, or they would probably have a real problem.

She headed up the salted down stoop and into the townhouse. It was much warmer inside, and she was happy to be able to shed a few layers of clothing upon her return.

“I’m back,” she called into the house as she pulled off the leather duster and hung it up. A few stray snowflakes fell from the coat, but she ignored it and headed into the adjoining living room.

This room was even warmer then the other, mainly due to the large fire that was burning. And she didn’t even have to turn on the air conditioner to have one, she thought with a grin. She walked around the couch that sat directly in front of the fireplace, and maneuvered herself down. It wasn’t easy, considering she was moving with the beach ball that was her stomach, but she finally managed, and she would swear her feet actually sighed in relief.

“‘ello, love,” Spike said coming out of the kitchen, carrying a smoking mug with him. “Back already?”

“Yeah, it’s too bad to stay out for to long,” she said as she started to pull off her black gloves. “Doc did a quick once over, and sent me home.”

“Oh,” he said as he came to sit by her. She glanced into the cup that he had, and smiled when she saw it was hot chocolate instead of blood like she had expected. Quickly, she snatched away from him, and began to drink. After all, she was the one that could feel cold, and she defiantly was. “What’d he say?”

She shrugged as she pulled the cup away from her mouth and balanced it on her stomach with both her hand still holding it. “Nothing much, just that the kid dropped a little, but it would probably be still a couple of weeks before Junior here is born.”

The child kicked, nearly causing her to spill the hot drink in her lap.

“Hey, you make me spill this and you’re born grounded,” she said to her stomach. She paused for a moment as she considered what she had just said. “Guess it’s more like me then I thought.”

She glanced over at him, to see what his reaction to her comment was, but he had this strange look on his face. There had been times over the past couple of months where she had seen it before, and usually it was whenever she was complaining about the kid moving around or hitting and kicking her. For the longest time, she couldn’t figure out what the look was, but she knew now. She drew in her bottom lip as she took the cup off her stomach and placed it on the small end table at the end of the couch.

“Give me your hand,” she ordered.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

When he hesitated, she reached over, grabbed his hand, and placed it on top of her swollen belly. The instant he touched her, the kid kicked as hard as she had ever felt it. He jerked his hand in surprise, and then a smile grew on his face. She couldn’t help but smile as the child kicked again, and he held his hand flat to feel it.

“Kid’s got some legs,” he said proudly.

“You’re telling me,” she grinned. “Try living through it for six months. I’m surprise I don’t have, like, internal bleeding or something from the beatings. I swear it’s bruised my ribs on more then one occasion.”

His trademark sly smile crossed his lips.

“Yes. That is my child.”

She rolled her eyes. Yup, he was most defiantly proud that the kid could bruise her ribs, just like she thought he would be. To be honest, she was kind of to. It was going to be strong; there was no doubt about that. With its parents being who they are, and that crazy Dr Lang and her goons looking for them, it was a good thing.

“Yeah, well, that’s what I told you in the first place,” she sighed as she laid back and tried to get more comfortable.

“That you did, love,” he agreed as he laid back himself. She took notice he didn’t take his hand off her stomach, but she didn’t say anything. “That you did.”

******

London

Lang felt nervous as she walked down the hall of the large building in London. Six months-six months!-and they were still on the loose. She knew Travers wasn’t happy about this. She wasn’t happy about this, but what was she going to do? They were no closer to finding them then they were yesterday, when the latest bounty hunter came back empty handed.

They had been on their trail for awhile. When they first got out, they had found them on a train to New Delhi, only to have the hunters to come up dead. Then, they found them in Tibet; once again, the hunters are dead. India, dead. Down to Turkey, dead. Over to Israel, dead. And the last place, Greece, dead wasn’t really the word to describe it. It was more like massacred. They were probably growing as tired of the chase as she was.

The child would be born in the next few weeks, so she knew they would be unable to leave Europe before then. But this was a big land with a lot of people, people who looked like them. If they could hide in Asia and the Middle East undiscovered, blending in here should be even easier.

She reached the office, straitened her jacket, and approached the desk where a pretty, young blond woman sat with a phone up to her ear. The girl held up her hand for Lang to wait until she finished, which was a moment later. She looked at her with a large, fake smile, and said, “Can I help you?”

“Dr. Janna Lang to see Mr. Travers,” she said politely like she was always taught to do.

The girl looked down at an open book in front of her. “Oh, yes, Dr. Lang. He is excepting you. If you will just follow me.”

She opened the door to the adjoining office and Lang saw Travers waiting for her. He had a large book opened up in front of himself, but didn’t look up when she entered.

“Dr. Lang to see you, Sir,” the secretary told him.

“Thank you, Lindsey,” he said, continuing to read. “That will be all.”

The girl nodded her head, and slipped out the door without another word, closing it firmly behind herself. Lang cautiously approached the man, stopping just short of his desk.

“Have a seat, Dr. Lang,” he said, which she complied too quickly. Finally, he looked up from the book and stared at her as he brought his hands up and locked them together. “So, what news do you bring for me today?”

She swallowed and then said, “We have a lead. We think they may be in Czechoslovakia, Prague, to be exact.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Yes, that would make since. The vampire has a history in the city. Anything else?”

She brought her briefcase up into her lap and popped the locks. Sliding a piece of paper towards him, she continued, “I had my men go over this three times. They say that the comet will be passing over in less then three days, but, Sir, the child isn’t due until the twenty-eight. That’s another two weeks away. Are you sure that we are correct in the matter of who it will be?”

Travers read over it before looking up Lang with an evil trying to be kind smile.

“Dr. Lang, you know as well as I do, that it has to be the Slayer. It can be no one else.”

“What of that Darla woman and the miracle child?” she asked before she could stop herself. When the stare turned icy, she barely managed to continue. “She was human and was able to carry a half breed.”

“Darla wasn’t human, my dear lady,” he corrected coldly. “She was a vampire who kept her humanity because she was pregnant.”

He took the paper and read it over again.

“I’ll send my best men to retrieve them. No offense, Lang, but your men have been coming up dead for the past six months.” The doctor barely kept herself from frowning at the statement. Didn’t he mean his men were ending up dead? She hadn’t sent a single group after them yet, but she was getting blamed for this. He continued, “I think its time we send in some real professionals to take care of this.”

She nodded her head in agreement. “Very well, Sir.”

The Asian woman stood and turned to leave when he called to her. She stood half way across the room and looked over her should at him.

“Lang, when the child is born, it will be brought here and will not be given back to you. The parents will be returned, but the child stays. Any child after that is yours to do with as you wish, but not this first one. Do you understand?”

Somewhere in her mind, she had known all along that it would come down to this. As much as she had convinced herself that she would get to examine and see the child grow and develop, she always knew that Travers would take it away from her before she really had a chance. After all, it had a destiny and all.

“Of course, Sir,” she said evenly.

“Good. Have a nice afternoon, Dr. Lang.”

“You to, Mr. Travers,” she answered as she hurried and left.

******

She sat Indian style in front of the fireplace, doing her best to untangle the string of lights that had now decided to make a collective ball of knots at her feet. A few days ago, Ekaterina, their neighbor, had dropped by and made a comment about the lack of decoration in their home. Buffy had made a quick excuse about not having any decorations since they hadn’t been married for that long, and the woman had come by that afternoon with a whole box of stuff for her to put up.

That was their cover story. They were a married couple who had just moved there for a job. She could kill Spike for letting him talk her into playing along with it, but it did feel better that people didn’t look at her like she was some kind of whore when they found out she was pregnant and not married. What happened to all those open minded people on TV who thought it was okay for a woman to have a kid by herself? Apparently they only did excise only TV.

She knew Ekaterina had meant well, but this really was a pain in the butt. Why couldn’t the woman at least have her husband untangle these things before letting her borrow them? Yet another one of those great mysteries in life.

Kind of like what happened to Spike account here. By the time they arrived in Prague, she had already been in her seventh month, thanks to the zigzagging they had to do with Lang’s people following them, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to travel home then. Still, when she was able, she wanted the first flight back to the States. Spike had gone to the bank to withdraw his money, only to find that a good chunk of it was gone. Apparently, the minion he and Dru had left there back in ‘97 had decided for a little restitution and robbed him blind. There was still enough for them to rent a fairly nice place to live for awhile, but it was going to take more then that to get them home. Really, could her life get any better?

“Ugh!” she groaned loudly when one knot infuriated her as she picked at it. “Stupid lights. Probably don’t even work anyway,” she muttered before taking a hold of the lights and shaking them. “Come loose, damn you!”

“And you thought I was crazy for swearin’ at the telly?” she heard Spike say from behind her. Great, just what she wanted to deal with at that moment.

“You weren’t swearing that ‘the telly’,” she said in a bad mock accent. “You were swearing at those stupid soap opera characters. You do know that they can’t hear you, right?”

He smirked at her as he came over and took the lights from her grasp. She sighed in relief when she didn’t have to deal with them any more, and went back to the box that was still filled with other decorations.

“Tell me, why I’m sittin’ ‘ere untanglin’ Christmas tree lights? We don’t even have a Christmas tree,” he said after awhile.

“Ekaterina dropped them off earlier this afternoon,” she told him. “You know how she’s been dropping by lately. It’d hurt her feelings if we didn’t put them up somewhere.”

“And of course we don’t want to hurt the old birds feelin’s,” he said sarcastically as he finally got out the knot she was having so much trouble with. He grinned at her in triumph as she glared at him for being able to do something she was unable to and the little comment.

“Just untangle the lights, you ungrateful dead,” she answered.

Buffy reached into the box, when she felt her stomach cringe tightly. It felt weird, a lot like cramps or something, so she tried to shake it way from her thought. But it wouldn’t go away. It just got worse, a whole lot worse, and very quickly.

She drew in a sharp hard breath and crunched her face up as the pain hit her head on. She had taken some pretty bad blows before, and been near death a time or two, but it was nothing compared to this. As the breath slowly escaped her, she heard herself say, “Ow, ow, ow.” Then it finally passed.

“Love?” Spike said from beside her. She had forgotten he was even there.

“I’m fine. I think I’ve just been sitting like this for to long,” she lied as she tried to get herself up, but failed miserably. “A little help?”

He got to his feet and helped to hers.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again. Was that worry in his voice?

Buffy had been so surprised by how gentle and worried his tone had been that it took her a moment to react. “Um, yeah, it’s okay. I’m just going to get, um, something to drink from the kitchen.”

He searched her face, before he nodded his head. “Alright. You just waddle yourself into the kitchen then.”

Her eyes grew wide in anger and surprise. “I do not waddle!” she protested. “I....shift.”

“That’s waddlin’, love,” he smirked.

She made a face at him and left as he continued to grin. Why did he always have to be like that? Why couldn’t he just be nice for once in his undead life?! But nooo, he has to still make sarcastic remarks even when she looked like she could go into labor at any moment. Stupid, blood sucking, son of a...

She stopped mid-thought when she felt it. Oh, no! Not now! Slowly, she turned and went back to the doorway between the living room and the kitchen and stood there with a slightly surprised look on her face.

“Um, Spike,” she said.

He looked up from the lights that he had gone back to working on.

“What? Forget how to work the stove without cursin’ at it?”

“No,” she said slowly shaking her head. She was only half listening to him as the information processed in her mind. “I think...no, I’m pretty sure...”

She stopped, her mind refusing to believe it and her being unable to push it out of her mouth to make it real.

“What?” he asked, starting to sound really annoyed. “That the kitchen needs to be painted pink? What?”

She looked at him as if for the first time. He was annoyed at her, and that kind of seemed reassuring.

“My water just broke,” she said calmly.

******

Dawn sat the table in the middle of the magic shop, her books scattered before her as she tried her best to concentrate on studying for her exam’s that started next week. It was hard to do, though, especially this time of year.

Yes, being that Christmas and vacation had something to do with it, but that wasn’t everything. Last week had marked the year anniversary since...since Buffy left. It had been a hard on the whole group when the day came.

Giles had closed the shop early and took herself and her mother out for the evening to try and keep their minds off of it. Her dad even called and told him that he was thinking about them and wanted to see how they were doing. Just to get a phone call from the great Hank Summers is something in itself. Tara, Xander, and Anya had gone with them, and the whole thing actually turned into a great tribute to the late great Buffy Summers. All in all, it turned out kind of nice, bringing almost a closer to the whole thing.

The newly married couple had brought even more good news that night when they remembered her sister. Anya, the ex-vengeance demon and the new Mrs. Harris, was pregnant. She was a little over two months, and was going to wait until after the wedding, but she said everyone was so depressed that it looked like they could use some good news. In a way, that helped too. They were celebrating the end of someone else’s life, and the beginning of a new one.

Anya was behind the counter, doing her usual thing as she counted out the money the store had made that day from the Holiday sells. She and Xander had been married the weekend before, but their Honeymoon wasn’t until after the beginning of the New Year. She had explained that it was busy time, and she just couldn’t leave Giles right at that moment, else he probably be curled up in the fetal position in a corner by the time she got back. He had assured her he would be fine, but, once Anya’s mind was made up, it was made up.

The bell rang announcing Tara’s arrival. She had a thick coat bundled tightly around her small body, and looked like she was half frozen.

“I-I didn’t know it got this cold in Sunnydale,” she said as she pulled off the jacket and hung it up on the coat rack.

“It usually isn’t,” Dawn told her as the blonde came to join her at the table. “Don’t you remember last Christmas? I had shorts on.”

“She’s right,” Anya piped up. “The last time it was this cold, was my first Christmas here and it snowed. I didn’t enjoy that. I liked it being warm.”

“It only snowed because Angel was trying to make himself a crispy critter because of the First. The PTB’s had to stop it somehow,” Dawn told her.

“Well, they could have chosen a warmer way,” Anya pouted as she came from behind the counter and went to restocking the shelves.

Dawn rolled her eyes slightly as Tara just smiled her sweet smile.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Giles said as he came out of the storage room, reading a book he carried in one hand, and carrying a cup of coffee in the other.

“What’s that?” Dawn asked. She was glad to have any distraction from school work.

He looked up from the text, as if noticing her presence for the first time. “Oh,” he said as he set the cup of coffee on the counter and took the book with both hands. “I was doing some research while we had this time with the demon population being so quiet, and I came across this old prophecy.”

“Don’t you always,” the teen muttered to herself, but no one but Tara heard it. She giggled lowly at Dawn’s comment, and the girl decided press on. “I swear, it’s like Giles is Prophecy ‘R Us guy. I don’t know what he’d do if he ever ran out of them.”

As Tara really began to laugh, Giles cleared his throat to let Dawn know that he had heard her, and child sunk back in embarrassment. “As I was saying, this prophecy comes from the Codex, the one Angel brought to me in Buffy’s first year of slaying. I can’t believe I never noticed it before.”

“Well, we never really had a slow time before,” Dawn pointed out. “I mean, it’s always something. The Master, Angelus, the Mayor, Adam, that Glory woman. I mean, I think this is the first year where we haven’t had a super bad guy to deal with. Just...vampires, and Faith pretty much has control on them.”

“Agreed,” Giles said. “Things have appeared to have quieted down since...well.”

Since Willow got sucked into who knows where, Dawn added silently. When Glory disappeared, so did all the badness that was plaguing the town since Buffy died. Now that she was gone, Faith, who had gotten paroled soon after, hadn’t had much to do but slay vamps. She knew that the girl was getting bore with it, and she wouldn’t be surprise if she left soon and just let the Scoobies take over the vampire slayage.

She was the first to speak. “So, what’s it say?”

“Pardon?”

“The prophecy, Giles. What’s it say?”

“Oh, um,

Seven days before the birth of Love,

When the gods trace their finger across the sky,

The dark angel will come,

And bring death and life to all.

Daughter to the last,

Sister to the first,

The perfect warrior,

With a will of her own.

A light, a darkness,

She is a shadow.

Existing from both,

Living for one.

Her life will not be her own,

She fights for right.

Alone she walks,

Together they stand.

Until the end.

The bitter end.

For she is the angel,

Sent to save us all.

The angel, the dark angel.”

The silence returned, as the group took in what he had just read.

“That’s about the Slayer, isn’t it?” Anya finally spoke up.

“One of them, yes,” Giles said. “Which one, I don’t know.”

“Save us?” Dawn asked quietly. “Save us from what?”

“Once again, I do not know, Dawn. I don’t even know when or if this will come to pass. You know how prophecies have a tendency to be....off.”

“Yeah,” she agreed with a sigh. “I know.”

The teen turned her head away from the man and looked out the window. Her eyes widen when she saw what was happening.

“Hey, guys look!” she said as she got out of her seat and headed over to the glass for a better look. The other came and joined her. Falling gently and covering the land with a white sheet, was snow.

******

Panic. That was the first thing he felt when she said those four simple words. That was what he was fighting when he stood there waiting for that blasted taxi to get there. That was what he was going through as they traveled up the slick, snow covered roads towards the hospital. It was ridiculous, really. He was a hundred and twenty year old vampire, and he was panicking. Vampires don’t panic, not masters anyway.

At first, when she told him that her water had broken, she looked as if she didn’t believe it herself, like it was never supposed to happen. Probably because the moment she said those words, it made things real, this was really happening. She was about to give birth, to his child, and it was happening now. Not later, not even tomorrow, but now.

On the cab ride there, her shocked and even expression had changed over to fright and his familiar panic. The slayer, the woman he had seen stand down Adam, a creature with the power of a god, and the tiny girl who had sent Angelus on a one way ticket to hell, was frighten and panicking. Well, that defiantly wasn’t good.

One of them had to be calm, but why did it have to be him? Calm was not something he was good at. He was even worse at keeping someone else calm. But you have to do what you have to do sometimes.

She drew in a hard, sharp, deep breath and scrunched her face up from the pain as she let it out slowly. There was no mistaken the panic there.

“Hey, it’ll be alright, Slayer,” he told her as calmly as he could, but he didn’t know how the tone came out.

“That’s easy for you to say,” she said through her teeth, angry that he would say such a stupid thing. “You’re not the one who feels like your insides are being ripped out slowly.”

From the front seat, the cab driver chuckled.

“First kid, hu?” he said in Slavic language.

“Yeah,” Spike answered him, but still tried to keep his attention on the slayer.

“Don’t worry. My wife and I went though the same thing with our first. Wait until she starts to swear that she’s never going to let you touch her again. They all say that about at the ninth or tenth centimeter. They never mean though. Else I wouldn’t have five children to prove it.”

“Trust me, mate. When she says it, she means it,” he told the driver, who chucked again.

“What’s he saying?” Buffy asked as she breathed through pain.

“Nothin’ important,” he told her.

The cab came to a stop in front of the hospital, and he was out of the car before it came to stop, and trying to help her. Standing off to the side where a couple of orderly, who went into action as soon as they saw the very pregnant woman emerge from the cab. They had in her in a wheelchair, pushing her inside before she knew what was happening, as Spike paid the cab driver. He turned to leave when the driver called out to him.

“Oh, Son,” reluctantly, he came back to the rolled down window. “If she wants you to hold her hand during this, don’t do it.”

“Why?” he asked before looking in the back seat. Buffy had grabbed a hold of the cage between the font seat and the back seat and had literally bent the steal. His eyes widen for a moment, then he looked at the driver and said, “Thanks for the warning, mate.”

“No problem. And good luck.”

******

The men sat across from the hospital’s emergency entrance and watched as the cab pulled up, a very pregnant blonde hair girl got out with a man with high cheek bones. A dark hair man brought the binoculars away from his face and glanced over at the man who sat next to him. With a slight nod, the man in the drivers’ seat picked up his cell phone and dialed.

“We’ve got them,” he said in a gruff voice.

“Good,” the man on the other end answered. “Don’t let them out of your sight.”

“Yes, Sir,” he said as he hung up and the two men and the young woman who sat in the back, got out of the car and headed inside.

******

**********

She laid in the hospital bed, already exhausted from all this, and it hadn’t even really begun. Upon her arrival, they had given her something to help with the pain that was more intense then anything she had ever felt before in her life. Her mom and Aunt Julie were not lying when they said that childbirth is the absolute worse pain you can ever go through. Buffy learned her lesson. Next time, listen to your mother. She knows what she’s talking about.

The drugged up, blonde slayer hadn’t seen Spike since administration nurse cornered him and forced him to fill out a pile of papers. She knew he couldn’t possibly know half the stuff they were going to ask him about her, but, hopefully, he’d know enough to get by with.

When they finally figured out that she didn’t speak a word of the Slavic language, they sent in a doctor that spoke broken English. Buffy had always been taught that English was the international language. So why was it hardly anybody in this freaking hospital spoke it?!

“Mrs. Summers?” the doctor said with a thick accent. “I, ah, look.”

“What?” she asked not understanding.

The doctor brought his hands together, and pointed out two fingers, then spread them apart.

“Oh, okay,” she said nodding her head and he went to work.

When he came back up, he looked at her with a smile and said, “You fast girl.” Then he started to yell at the door, to the nurse who nodded and disappeared into the hallway. Buffy had no idea what was going on, as the nurse reappeared with several others who brought a gurney with them.

“Wait, what’s going on?”

It took a moment for the doctor to understand what she had asked, and he told her, “Delivery.”

“What? Now?!”

He nodded his head as the men slid her over onto the moveable bed, though she was protesting the whole way. As they pushed her out into the hall, she began to search frantically for the ex-bleach blond who was suppose to be there at that minute, if, nothing else, translating for her what the doctor was saying.

“Come on, fang face,” she said lowly as they pushed her into a different corridor. “Where are you?”

******

He grumbled as he gave the annoying nurse her valuable papers and headed in the direction she said they had taken Buffy. The slayer was going to kill him if he was late for this. After all, she needed someone there who she could beat with her slayer strength and not actually kill. He was qualified for that, considering that he was already dead.

Spike turned down a hall and come to a complete stop when he saw two men, dressed in black over coats and matching suits, speaking to one of the nurses. A young woman was standing away from them, keeping an eye out, and spotted him.

“There!” she said pointing before she came charging at him.

Damn. He thought they would have a little time before those nitwits figured out that they were hiding out in Prague. Why did they have to find them now? They couldn’t wait one more bloody day.

He turn and hurried back down the way he came and ducked into the stair well he had spotted earlier. He had to lead them away from Buffy. The last thing she needed to deal with at that moment was these crazy goons going after her when she was in the middle of labor. They followed close behind, taking the same two steps at a time that he was as he charged upward. He finally came to the last level and charged out onto the snow covered roof. At least there, he stood a chance of being able to beat them from all the room, plus no nosey doctors and nurse snooping about to see what was going on.

He ducked on the other side of shed, the snow hitting him hard in the face as the icy wind slapped those who ventured out. There was a problem with these guys. Unlike the others, they were humans, he could tell by their sent and the way the blood was rushing through their veins. Human, one hundred percent.

Okay, so what’s your brilliant plan, mate? Let them watch as you have a massive migraine attack if you try to fight back?

He just had to keep them away from Buffy, that was all that mattered.

The two men flanked out from behind the young woman, he could hear one taking the right of the roof as the other took the left. The girl traveled strait forward. If he could get past them back into the stairwell, maybe he could lock them out here. After all, he didn’t think he would have a headache if they froze to death.

“Vampire!” she called into the night. “Show yourself. We mean you no harm.”

Spike climbed up on top of the tool shed. Maybe he could get the drop on her.

“Yeah, you just want to have tea and discus the finer points of Chaucer with me, right?” he said sarcastically as he made it up.

He bent over the side and watched as she hurried toward the sound of his voice. She crept along the font of shed, looking for him on the other side.

“You must trust us,” she told him as she jumped to try and surprise him on the other side, only to find it empty.

At that moment, he leapt from high above, and grabbed her from behind. “Forgive me, if I don’t believe you,” he said as he held her close to him as a sort of shield.

The other two came charging at them, but he positioned himself where she was in front, and they couldn’t get to him without going through her. It usually wasn’t his style to use a human shield, but he was desperate at the moment.

“You do not understand,” she told him. “You and the Slayer are in grave danger here.”

“Yeah, from you people,” he growled into her ear. “A problem I plan to rectify.”

As he back towards the door, he felt a sharp pain race through his body as something hit him hard from behind. He stumbled, letting the girl loose, who ran a few feet away from him, as he fell to the ground. Through his blurred vision from the blow, he looked up and saw a well dressed man standing over him. He had a club in his hands, and was preparing for another blow.

Oh, no. He failed her, he thought as the club came up.

The girl he had attacked flew from the side, and tackled club man to the ground. He looked over and watched as she punched the man hard in the face, then brought his head up and broke his neck. Spike could hear the other two fighting some others, but this was getting to weird. When she was satisfied with her work, she walked back over to the vampire lying in the snow, and held out her hand.

“Trust me. We are not here to hurt you. We want to help you.”

He considered his options at that moment. He could either, a) chose to trust these people who probably just saved his undead ass, or b) keep trying to run with the slayer and the kid until they did get caught and drug back to wherever it was that Lang had them in the first place. Though he knew that it was dangerous, he decided to go with a) for this one. He reached out and took her hand, and let her help him up.

“Good,” she said with a smile. “We must hurry. There is very little time left.”

******

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut as she did as the doctor ordered her to. She was pushing, but it hurt so much, she wasn’t sure if she could do this or not. Sweat and tears poured down her face, as she tried to hold back a scream, but failed miserably.

To fast, this was all happening to fast. She hadn’t been in labor long enough to be at the pushing state. Ekaterina had said that it took nearly twenty seven hours before her first one was born. She hadn’t even been in the hospital for two hours! How could she already be at the pushing stage?

She groaned loudly as she fell back, unable to go any more. The nurse was saying something to her, but she couldn’t understand, though she knew it had to be soothing because the tone she was using. She felt as if she were about to start hyperventilating as the soothing nurse dabbed at her forehead with a wet rag, trying to cool her off. There was blizzard outside, and she was trying to cool her off. Oh ironic is that?

The doctor looked up at her, and said from behind his mask, “Again, Mrs. Summers. Push, hard.”

She nodded her head, grabbed onto the mattress, and began to push. She could feel it coming.

As she kept her face squished up with eyes squeezed shut, she said through her clutched teeth, “Damn it, Spike! I really hate you!!!”

******

He slid to a stop in front of the room that they had told him Buffy would be in, but found that it held only one pregnant woman and her husband, while the other bed that had been occupied a short time ago laid empty. His new ‘friends’ searched around for her, but they weren’t having any better luck then he was. A young nurse came out of the room across from the one she was suppose to be in, and he pulled her aside.

“Miss,” he said frantically before calming himself. “Miss. Where is the young woman who was in that room? A Mrs. Summers?”

She smiled at him. “Oh, she’s in delivery, Sir. Right down the hall.”

“Thanks,” he said charging away in search of her with the other three in toe.

As he reached the end of the hall, a door opened and they pushed her out of the room. Her stomach was no longer large and swollen, and she looked utterly exhausted from the ordeal she had just been through. She looked at him with tired eyes before drifting away.

“Buffy,” he said as he tried to reach her, but a doctor stopped him. “Hey, that’s my wife!” Here anyway, he silently added.

“Sir, please,” he said holding him back as they took her down the hall. “She tired. Let her rest.”

“Is she okay? And the baby?”

The young doctor smiled at him, like so many people seem to be doing now a days. “They’re fine. It was ruff and fast, but they’re okay. You have a pretty little girl.”

A girl? He had a daughter?

“Give her a little time to rest, but we’ll bring the child to her room as soon as it’s cleaned up,” he told him before he could even process what he had just said about him having a daughter.

“All right,” he said as the doctor walked away.

The girl he had just met frowned at that information.

“We do not have that much time. Those men on the roof are only the first. Now that they know you are here, there will be more.”

Spike nodded his head in agreement. She was right. In no time, they would swarm this hospital like a pride of lions on a wounded gazelle.

“Can you and your boys give us half an hour? Let ‘er rest for a minute at least.”

The woman agreed with a nod, then said over her shoulder to the men, “David, James, contain the area. I’ll go with Mr. William here.”

The two large men disappeared without another word, and the young woman followed him down the hall to Buffy’s room.

She was a small woman, maybe a little taller then Buffy herself, with long black hair that flowed around her waist, and olive color skin. By the looks of her, Spike would guess she was of Italian decent, maybe Spanish.

“So, what do we call you? Ma’am?” he said as they reached her room.

“I am Catherine. You may call me as such.”

“Spike,” he said as he reached for the door handle. “No more Mr. William stuff, all right.”

“Very well,” she said sweetly. “Spike.”

The two entered the dim room and found the slayer lying, still asleep, on the bed that was raised up. She looked so peaceful there, he hated that they were going to have to wake her, but Catherine was right. It would only be a matter of time before Lang’s minions would show up.

He bent over close, which caused her to awake from the sleep she had been enjoying.

“Spike?” she said in a sleepy tone before she winced in pain.

“Hey, love,” he said lowly.

“Where were you?” she asked weakly. She then noticed the black hair girl standing off to the side watching them, and he saw her whole body go tense. “And who’s she?”

“Don’t worry, Slayer,” he told her, trying to get her to relax. “She’s here to help us. Listen, we don’t have a lot of time. See-”

A gently tapping came at the door before a nurse walked in, carrying a tiny child in her arms.

“Mrs. Summers?” she said as she bounced the child slightly. “There’s someone here to meet you.”

Spike step away from the bed as the nurse bent over and handed the child to Buffy, who face became as soft as he had ever seen it. He could just stare at them in amazement as she held the child, and slipped into a maternal side he didn’t even know she had. The nurse looked at him for a moment, before heading back out the door she had come in. He sat down on the edge of the bed, continuing to watch them, as the tiny baby yawned widely, and then opened her eyes, those bright, beautiful, blue eyes.

“I am sorry,” Catherine said, bringing them back to where ever their minds had disappeared to. “But time is of the essence. We must go at once.”

“Go?” Buffy said, looking at him for an explanation. “Go where?”

“That’s what I was tryin’ to tell you,” he said. “We ran into some of Lang’s boys here in the hospital. We took care of ‘em, but there are probably more on the way. So we need to make ourselves scares quick like.”

“But,” her voice dropped and he leaned in close to speak to her. “Do you trust her?” she whispered.

“I don’t think we have a choice here, love,” he said shaking his head. “I doubt you can walk, so you’ll just have to settle for me carrin’ you for now. Catherine, could you take...”

He stopped when he suddenly realized he had no idea what his daughters name was.

“Can’t very well call her Junior, now can we,” he said, reminding the Slayer that she hadn’t told him the name she was thinking of calling her.

“I was thinking Dylan,” she said in a ‘wanting approval’ tone. “After the poet.”

He smiled at her. Since when did she like poetry? “Dylan’s fine. I like Dylan.”

She smiled at that news.

Catherine came and took Dylan from her mothers grasp, much to Buffy’s disappointment, but she would have her back soon enough. No one was going to take his little girl away from them, he’d swear to that. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her from the bed and carried her out into the hall. He followed Catherine down to the parking garage, where David and James were waiting for them in a running car. Then the group disappeared into the snowy night.

******

It would be awhile before Buffy and Dylan were strong enough to travel very far. A few hours outside of Prague, they stopped in a town just outside of the Czech boarder, where Catherine informed them they would be staying until the slayer got her strength back. David drove them to a large estate on the outskirt of the town.

“Where are we?” Buffy asked half asleep as she leaned on his shoulder.

“Germany,” he told her. “We crossed the boarder about an hour ago.”

“Do not worry, Slayer,” Catherine said in her most reassuring tone. “You and the child will be safe here.” She then said to Spike as Buffy once again slipped into unconsciousness, “This is one of my fathers’ homes,” she explained. “There will be someone here to look after them until they are well enough to travel on.”

“Where are you goin’ to take us?”

“Madrid,” she told him.

He looked over at the sleeping slayer, who, in any normal state, would not allow herself to be in such a comprising position with him. Her arm was draped around his waist as she held on close, and he held his arm over her shoulder in a protective embrace. Next to her, in a little car seat, Dylan slept as well, oblivious to the anxious air that was passing through the adults in the car. He tore his gaze away from them and turned it back to Catherine that sat in front of him.

“I want answers,” he demanded coldly.

She shifted in the front seat to be able to see them better, and understood the moment her eyes laid on the three.

“My father will answer any questions you have,” she told him sweetly.

The car came to a stop in front of large entrance, where two well dressed servants waited in the snow with umbrellas. One opened Catherine’s door, and held it high over their heads as she walked around the car, opened the door on Dylan’s side, and took the child out.

The other servant opened Spikes door, though he was already half way out of it by that time, and protected them from the snow as he gathered Buffy up in his arms. Catherine came back around, carrying the baby that was still asleep like her mother, and headed towards the house.

“Come, I will show you where we can leave them for the time being.”

Inside the house, she led him up a large set of stairs that was the first thing he saw when they entered. It reminded Spike of the stair case from Gone With The Wind, but he would admire the decoration and design of the house later. Right now, he had more important things to worry about.

Unlike the one that helped Spike, the servant that had held the umbrella over Catherine remained with them, dumping the covering by the front door and following her up the stairs. When they reached a large pair of doors, he opened them for her and the group quickly stepped inside.

The bedroom was larger then Spike’s crypt, with every elaborate comfort he could think of. A gigantic bed stood as tall as the room, and he quickly hurried over and deposited the sleeping slayer in it. An old, old man in a white lab coat began to check her over. He didn’t trust anyone who wore a lab coat, not after Lang and the Commandos, but he said nothing as he back away and let the man work. He did, after all, seem to be trying to help her.

On the other side of the bed, Catherine had laid Dylan onto the soft bedding as a plump woman did nearly the same thing the old man was doing to Buffy. Dylan was awake now, happily kicking her legs up at the woman, who was literally beaming at the child.

When she was finished, she reached over, carefully picked her up, and said to Catherine, “She appears to be healthy, but you should not have taken her out in such conditions. There was a serious threat she could have caught pneumonia.”

“We did not have a choice, Rosemary,” Catherine answered as the plump woman walked over to a crib that was set up near by and placed her inside. “Lang’s people already knew that they were there. We had to leave at once.”

“The mother’s fine as well,” the old man said coming away from Buffy side and joining Spike at his. “Tired, but nothing else that is very serious. With her healing abilities, she should be up and about tomorrow morning at the earliest.”

“Good,” Spike said. The other three seemed to finally notice his presences then.

“Oh, I am sorry,” Catherine said. “Spike, this is Dr. Peter van Devender and his wife Rosemary. Peter, Rosemary, this is Spike.”

“How do you do,” the woman said with same silly smile she had when she was looking over his daughter.

“Alright,” he answered before turning to Catherine. “Your father?”

“Oh, yes. Please, follow me.”

She hurried out of the room, and, after a moments hesitation of leaving Dylan and Buffy alone with these strangers, he followed. The raven hair girl led him back down the stairs and into a part that was farther tucked into the estate. Spike half wondered if he should maybe leave a bread crumb trail to find his way back through the maze. Finally, she took him into a large library that would even make that Watcher of Buffy’s green with envy.

A middle age man, maybe a little older then Giles, sat in front of the fireplace that was burning brightly with a warm glow. There was a book opened on his lap, and a glass half full with bourbon clutched in his hand as he read. He looked up from the sound of approaching footsteps, and stood when he saw his daughter and a stranger coming towards him.

“Hello, Father,” Catherine said as the man placed the glass on a small table beside the chair he had been sitting in.

“Catherine,” he answered with all the warmth of three day old corps. Then a goofy grin broke on his face, and Spike figured that this was suppose to be two people greeting each other properly in public, but was obvious that they weren’t actually like that. “You must forgive me,” he said to Spike. He had an English accent, but it was so proper, that it made Giles sound like some kind of commoner. “My daughter wishes that we act dignified with company. Please, have a seat, Mr. William. Would you like some bourbon?”

“No thanks,” he answered as he took the seat next to the one the man had settled himself back in. “And it’s just Spike.”

The man nodded his head, and Catherine took that as a silent cue to leave. Spike and the man watched her go, before turning the attention back to each other.

“I do suppose you have questions,” he said as he leaned back in the chair.

“Yeah. Like who the bloody hell are you and why are you helpin’ us?”

“I am Nicholas Becket,” he told him. “As to why I am helping you, it is because I was told to a long time ago.”

He let out a sigh as he tried to explain.

“You see, Mr. Will-Spike, my family has long been associated with the Watchers Council in London, so the fact there are supernatural forces in the world has never been kept from us. Though there has never actually been a Watcher in the family, we help out the slayer in any way possible, whether it is by providing funds to help her in her fight, or offering shelter when it is needed. This is how it has always been for hundreds of years. That is, until the late fifties.

“I was a small boy then, and a woman who said she was sent by the Council came to our home. She told my father of the corruption that was plaguing the institution then. How they no longer actually cared about the slayers themselves and viewed them only as their tools for keeping the evil in the world in check. After all, if they ever lost one, they would just have to call another. This was something my father had feared his whole life, and dropped our whole families association with them.

“The woman was actually a seer and told my father that in the end times his family would help what she called ‘the angel’. My father became obsessed with discovering who this was, and why she needed our help. He spent the rest of his life in that quest, but never discovered who she would be. He discovered all sorts of text and left them to me upon his death back in nineteen eighty nine. The things he had marked made no since to me what so ever, so I left them and paid them no mind for the better part of ten years.

“Then, one day about a year or so ago, I ran into a man-well, a demon actually, who informed me of a vampiress who had been brought back as a human, and I remembered something I read in one of my fathers markings. This was speaking of the miracle child and how his mother would be twice sired.”

“There was a vampire who was human and was sired again?” Spike repeated as the words tried to sink in.

“Yes. I believe you know her. Her name is Darla.”

Spike nearly fell out of his chair at this news. Darla?! Darla was among the living again?! Bet the poof was thrilled about that one.

“But she is not important. What is, is that the child was born in November, which stepped up my search. You see, the miracle child is the forerunner for the angel, a guide if you will, for when she is older. I only had a few clues to go on, and then I got my big break. There was a rumor circulating in the demon community about a woman who was commission to make a damphyr. Suddenly, things in my father’s notes were making prefect since. ‘A light, a darkness, she is a shadow. Exciting from both, living for one.’ At least, that’s what the Codex said before my father lost it.”

Spike’s eyes narrow slightly as he understood what the man was saying. “You think Dylan is this ‘angel’. Don’t you?”

“I know she is,” he stated flatly. “Everything fits. Her parents, the day she was born, everything.” He leaned in closer, as if he were telling Spike some huge secret. “Your daughter has been sent to save the world. You should feel pride for that.”

The vampire clenched his teeth as his hands clamped down on the arm rest.

“The only thing I feel is pity for anyone who comes near her,” he hissed.

Becket leaned back in his seat and sighed. He wasn’t angry or sad by the man’s reaction to the news about his child. It was almost as if he expected it. A kind chuckle escaped from him as he shook his head.

“You miss understand my intention. I am simply here to offer protection for the child for the time being. To help you and the Slayer along until such a time comes that we must part our ways, nothing more.” He paused for a moment, letting Spike read his expression and know he spoke the truth. “If you wish, I can even assist you with your ‘Lang’ problem. I am a very powerful man, Spike, offering my serves for free because this was my fathers’ quest and now mine. I believe in this. I will protect the girl with all my being, as I expect you and the slayer will. The child what’s important, nothing else.”

Spike sighed as he leaned back in the chair, relaxing slightly for the first time since they arrived.

“That, mate, is at least something we can agree on.”

******

Travers stood at his office window, staring out into the London night. Usually, this time of year, it was snowing and the sky was not viable. Tonight, however, it was clear. Racing across the sky was the comet he fully expected to see, marking the beginning of his valuable projects life.

It had appeared a few hours before, very faint at first and even dimmer from the lights of the city, but it had gotten brighter. By morning, it would be gone, and, those not fortunate enough to look up in the sky that night, would never even know it had been there.

He had received a call a bit before from his men. They had found one of the scout groups dead on the roof of a hospital in Prague where a young woman matching the description of the slayer had had a child then suddenly disappeared with it. Needless to say, the hospital was worried of being sue should something happen to the mother and child, but he had a feeling they would never hear from them again.

They had someone helping them, he knew that now. The slayer was busy having the child, and the vampire wouldn’t have been unable to fight back against the humans that he sent, yet they lay in the snow dead with broken necks. Whoever they had helping them was good, he would admit that, but who could it be?

He had ordered look outs for every hospital placed within five hundred miles of the city, but they had all come up empty thus far. No. Whoever was with them now probably had their own doctors looking after the mother and child. But he wasn’t giving up yet. After all, tomorrow would be another day.

******

Spike came to the door of Buffy’s room just as it opened and Rosemary stepped out. She jumped slightly in surprise from seeing him, and, shamefully, he did the same. It had just been a long night, which, thank goodness, was almost over. Silently, she pushed past him and disappeared into the hall as he went inside.

Buffy was up now, standing over the nice and, now that he really looked at it, expensive crib. That must the only kind of taste Becket had. She had Dylan in her arms, swaying slightly as she cooed at the child. Her body tensed for a moment as she shot a glance over her shoulder at the door, but he simply held up his hands and smiled to show her it was just him.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, love,” he said as he slowly approached them.

Buffy snorted as she turned her attention back to the baby. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He came up beside her and looked down at the small wonder she held. Becket had been right, nothing else mattered but this kid. They might not share the reasoning, but they did share that.

“So, this is that Catherine girls digs, hu?” Buffy asked.

“Her fathers, or one of them anyway. Right interestin’ fellow,” he said as he reached over and gently touched the child chin.

That was when he realized that had actually been the first physical contact he had ever had with his daughter. As if sensing who he was, Dylan reached up and wrapped her tiny hand around the tip of his finger. He had no idea anything could be so small. The child giggled, and the slayer shook her head as she smiled.

“Oh, that’s just great. I think she likes you,” she said slyly.

“Well, you know how women love me,” he said in sarcastic sweetness.

She rolled her eyes, then said to Dylan, “Please don’t turn out like him. One cocky ass is enough.”

“Language, love,” he played as he took the child from her arms, went over to the bed, and sat down with her. Buffy followed, and sat next to him. “You shouldn’t say those words in front of the kiddies.”

“This coming from the man who once spouted out more absentees in one sentence then I knew existed because some kid cut him off in traffic.”

“Yeah, well, I said you shouldn’t swear. Never said nothin’ about me.”

She again shook her head, but kept her attention on the baby he had in his arms. He saw a frown slowly grow on her face as thought she had about what was going to happen to her weighed heavily on her mind. They probably mirrored his own fears and worries pretty closely, though she would never admit it.

“Don’t worry, Slayer. We’ll get though this.”

With his free hand, he found hers resting next to him on the bed, and he took it. She looked at him for a moment, but didn’t say anything. In fact, she seemed almost relieved to hear those words, even if she didn’t fully believe it like him.

“We always do,” she finished for him.

******

The estate in Madrid made the one in Germany look like a nice little country cottage. It was warmer here then in the other country, with no snow that she had slowly learned to loath over the past few months. At first, she had enjoyed the white powered, feeling like a child as she watched it cover the ground and the city. After about two months of seeing nothing but it, she had grown weary of the weather and was glad to see the green that Spain had to offer.

The slayer had never been so relieved in her whole life then when Rosemary, who had been with them since Germany, had told her it was the first day of spring. Buffy had packed up her then four month old daughter and taken her out for a day in the sun, though the child sleep most of it. She could already tell that she was going to be a night owl, just like her parents.

Becket’s home was roughly the size of Sunnydale itself. Catherine explained that this was where they raised their Thoroughbreds and those Spanish horses Buffy read about that did tricks, but she could remember the name of. The place was well guarded, like a fort, and no one from the city ever seemed to venture out this way unless they were lost.

Much to her surprise, or not, Spike took very good care of his daughter and was very protective of her. When he had explained to her what Becket had said about Dylan being some sort of ‘angel’, she had been worried of what the rich man might do. But he had sworn that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, and, so far, he kept that promise fiercely. He might be chipped, but Buffy felt sorry for any person who tried to hurt Dylan. They would not only have one pissed off slayer to deal with, but one very dedicated vampire who would probably push away all thoughts of the chip if it came down to saving his child.

Buffy was glad he was so dedicated to her. Her own father had never made much time for her or Dawn when they were younger and, the only time she could remember seeing him was when he was leaving for a trip and had to come by the house to get his stuff. That, or when him and her mother were fighting about something or another. To be honest, she missed him a little, but she was dying inside to go home to her mother and sister and the other Scoobies. But she was protecting Dylan, and her safety was what matter.

Seems like someone should remind Catherine of that.

A few nights ago, she had told Buffy and Spike that her father would be holding a party to celebrate the being of the racing season. Needless to say, the two were stunned at such an idea of exposing them like that, but Catherine had explained that it would be even more exposure if they did not hold the gala. Her father was known for this party, and, if he did not hold it, there would be questions as to why. She had tried to reassure them that the party would be heavily guarded and that no one without an invitation would be allowed in, nor any that did not pass a security check. Still, Buffy was uneasy about this.

What if they unknowing invited one of Lang’s men? What if someone recognized them? What if...? There really were too many what if questions.

It wasn’t so much as that she didn’t want to meet with other people, she was about to go crazy if she didn’t, but it was just so dangerous right now. Of course, another nagging voice told her that these were people who raised horses for a living and probably never went anywhere near a demon or vampire. Not to their knowledge anyway. In fact, if she said anything about it, they’d probably look at her like she had sprung another head.

Rosemary had dropped off a dress that Becket had bought for her to wear at the party, and she was now standing in front of the mirror seeing how she looked. It was a long, black dress that dipped down low in the front, and even farther in the back. Two small straps held the dress together on her shoulders, as a long split came up the side and stopped just below the hip. Buffy smiled as she looked at her herself from side to side, then from behind.

“Well, looks like Mommy got her figure back, hu?” she said to the baby, who giggled and clapped in agreement. “Oh, you find that funny, do you?”

She bent in close to the baby, gently scratching her stomach, tickling her. Dylan began to laugh even more, especially at the goofy face her mother was making at her as she assaulted her stomach.

Though the open window, she could see the sky turning into cool royal blues and black as the horizon burned orange when the sun had finally set. Coming through the forest cover road that led up the house, she could see a steady line of cars coming towards them as one of the stablemen ran one of Beckets finest horses along the fence to show it off. The party was being held in the back south lawn, which was now set up to look like the President was coming for a visit. A live band was already playing softly, and she could pick up the tune that drifted in on the wind.

“Are you ready to go, Buffy?” Catherine said as she walked in the room with Rosemary close behind who would be watching Dylan that night.

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” the blonde sighed as she joined the dark hair beauty and the plump woman went to taking care of the child.

“Do not worry, Ms. Summers,” Rosemary said as she bounced Dylan in her arms. “Have a good time tonight.”

“Thanks, Rosemary,” she said.

Buffy had long given up trying to the get her to call her by her first name. She was a very proper servant woman, who was only married to doctor but didn’t feel like she had raised in status any from it, and called all the people who lived in the house by Mr., Mrs., or Ms. Even Spike got to be Mr. Spike whenever Rosemary was around.

Buffy followed Catherine through the east wings halls that she had finally grown accustom to after awhile. For the longest time, it would only take Buffy a simple wrong step to get her lost, but she somehow always found her way to the kitchen. Catherine told her that nearly hall or stair well eventually leads there, so that had helped, but she so wished they would have just put in one of those ‘You are here’ maps every so often.

It was completely dark by the time they reached the others, who were already mingling and laughing about some boring thing. Upon seeing them descend the brick stair way that lead to the party, a large, well dressed man came up to Catherine, sized her hands, and gave her two quick pecks on the checks.

“Why, Catherine Becket, look how lovely you’ve become,” he said, and Buffy realized that this was an American by his accent.

“Thank you, Mr. Thomas.” She turned and pulled Buffy forward for a proper introduction. “Mr. Thomas, I would like you to meet Buffy Summers.”

“How do you do,” she said politely, remembering what her mother had always taught her.

“Buffy and I were roommates at UCLA a few years ago. She and her husband are here visiting my father and myself for the summer,” Catherine continued quickly, remembering the cover story they had came up with earlier.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Summers,” he said kindly. “So, I take it you’re American?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered. “I’m actually from LA.”

“Ah. So, what you think of Spain?”

“It’s a lot nicer then some of the places I’ve been,” she admitted. Of course, I haven’t seen much of it besides the ranch, she added silently.

“I’m glad,” he said, ending his small talk with her and turning back to Catherine. “So, where is your father?”

“Who knows? You know him, he’ll probably have to make some grand entrance.”

Mr. Thomas laughed politely, then said, “Yes. I believe he will. Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Summers.” He started to walk away when a thought crossed his mind. “Summers? You wouldn’t happen to be related to a Joyce Summers would you?”

Buffy was stunned for a moment. She hadn’t heard anyone say her mothers name in almost a year and a half. She was surprised at how many emotions it could bring by simply mentioning it.

Fighting to control her voice, she said, “Who?”

“Joyce Summers,” he repeated. “Lovely woman. She sold me a painting a few months back. Gave me a great deal. Then, if you are Mrs. Summers, I suppose she might be related to your husband.”

Buffy let out a sad sigh. “No, she is not related to Sp-William.” Except for her granddaughter, she added silently.

“Oh. Well, forget I asked then.”

Any joy she might have got out of the party left with that conversation and mention of her mother. She missed her so bad it literally hurt. Catherine gave her concerned look, but, before she could ask, Buffy took off for a dark section of the lawn. She just needed to be alone at that moment.

******

Spike walked through the hall, grumbling to himself. He had been living there for four bleeding months, and still got lost. When Buffy had raised the idea of those maps, he had laughed along with Catherine and Becket, but now that didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Well, he would just have to make his way to the kitchen and find his way from there.

The faint muttering echoed down the hall, and he was relieved when he recognized Becket was its owner. He came to the door that it was coming from, but stopped before he opened it. There was something there with him, something, not human. Spike growled lowly in his throat. So the little prick did sell them out.

“It will be difficult to get him to leave,” Becket said the demon that was with him. “He is very protective of them.”

“You want to see how protective?” Spike asked coldly as he stepped into the room.

Becket stood up strait behind the desk, surprised to see him there. The demon, however, rose slowly and showed no fear at the very angry vampire that stood in the doorway.

“Spike, this is not what you think,” he tried to defend lamely.

“Oh, I think it is,” he said as he vamped out.

Becket took a step back, probably never actually seeing a game face before this one. The demon simply shook his head as he gave a small laugh.

“I can see what you mean,” he said with a British accent much like Spikes. “He is protective, if not a bit short tempered.” The demon came closer to him, unafraid. “It is true what he says. I am not here to harm the child or her mother. I am here to help you protect them.”

Spike slipped out of his game face, unsure how to take anyone who claimed that they wanted help them. “Where were you people a year ago when me and the slayer were on the run? Couldn’t help us then?”

“We did not know of you then,” the demon said. “We do now.”

He went back and sat in the chair that he had been in moments before, but Becket remained standing.

“It’s true, Spike,” he told him, starting to relax a little. “Please, sit.”

Reluctantly, he did as he was asked to do, and Becket finally took his own set.

“Four months ago, I made you a promise that I would help you with your ‘Lang’ problem, as I called it. Well, here it is. I figure that you can pretty much take care of your own, and are very willing to do it, if tonight is any indication. What I am about to offer will help you take care of your um...family, in case any thing should happen to mine.” He leaned forward onto the desk. “You see, Spike, the only thing I see that is keeping you from being able to protect them they way you feel they should be is because of your chip and its incapacity to work on humans, who happen to be the enemy at this time. Kin’tel,” he nodded to the demon set beside the vampire, “knows a demon in Uganda that can take care of that for you.”

“What are you sayin’?” he asked, not believing what he was hearing.

“This demon can take the chip out,” Becket stated slowly.

******

Buffy started slowly back to the party, the grass already starting to dampen as the night wore on. Most of the people’s laughter could be heard from where she stood, but she still didn’t feel like join in on it. She was just so tired of running and hiding, even from her own family. Why couldn’t they just go home?

She moved through the crowd until she discovered Catherine, standing in the middle of a large circle of men, all who seemed to be admiring her...wit. The young woman was laughing at some joke or another when Buffy approached. Seeing the dark look on her face, she excused herself from the group, and joined her new friend.

“What is it?” she asked, her slight Spanish accent bleeding through terribly.

“I’m sorry,” Buffy said shaking her head. “But I’m really not in the party mood. I think I’ll just go back and check in on Dylan.”

“Are you sure, Buffy? The night is still young.”

“Yeah, I am. Please tell your father I’m sorry I missed him tonight.”

Catherine nodded her head, as Buffy headed back into the house. She was somewhere else as her brain went on auto pilot and lead her back to her room. Well, she thought with a sigh, at least I didn’t get lost.

“Rosemary,” she called as she opened the door. “I’m back.”

“I sent her on already, pet,” Spike answered.

She looked over through the French doors that lead from her room into the nursery. Spike was standing over the crib, looking over at the child that laid fast asleep inside. Somewhere inside of her, she felt something say that she should be annoyed that he just came up in here without her permission, it was her room after all, but she pushed it aside. After all, she didn’t have soul right to her daughter...their daughter.

She walked over and stood at the end of the crib, looking in at the angelic child. Dylan was the only thing now a days that made her really feel happy anymore. When she was around her, she didn’t think about Sunnydale or her family because this child was her family. In away, she was thankful to Spike for that.

“Take it you didn’t enjoy the party, then,” he said, studying the look on her face.

“Not so much the party,” she said sadly. At his confusion, she went on. “I meet a guy who knows mom.”

“Really? He knows Joyce?”

“Yup,” she said going out of the nursery back into her room. He followed, unconsciously turning off the light and pulling the door to so not to disturb Dylan. “Called her by name and everything. Said she was a sweet woman or something like that.”

“Yes, well, I suppose if someone was complementin’ my mum I would be upset about it too,” he said sarcastically, still not understanding her down mood.

That would have normally earned him a glare at the very least, but she didn’t have the energy for a fight that night. “It’s not that. It’s just...that was the first time I’ve heard anyone beside me or you even say her name. I couldn’t even tell him that was my mother. You have no idea how bad I wanted to.”

He began to understand. She was lonely and homesick. Unlike him, she hadn’t been use to leaving everything you know and love behind without a second thought. He had learned that years ago when he first became a vampire. It had been so long, he had actually forgotten how hard it could be.

“Come now, love,” he said. “You’ll see her again.”

“When, Spike?” she said suddenly directing all her anger at him. “When? When they finally get sick of chasing us? When-when I’m too old to have kids and they finally leave me alone? When I die? When?!”

He was surprised at the on slough, then frowned. “I don’t know.”

“See, that just it. No one does. I might as well face it. It’s going to be me, you, and Dylan for the rest of our lives,” she said as she flopped down on the edge of the bed.

“And that’s really so bad?”

“Yes! No. I don’t know,” she said as her face fell into her hands. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

He came and sat beside her, and placed his hand between her bare shoulder blades. It reminded her of the time she had been sitting on her back porch when her mom told her that she was sick. That had been the night she had told him that he was beneath her. He had been beneath her alright. That was how she got that child in the other room that was sleeping.

Before she realized it, she had leaned into him and placed her arms around his waist as her head laid on his shoulder. Something said that this should feel off, but she didn’t care at that moment.

“Promise me something,” she said looking ahead.

“Anything, pet.”

“No matter what, you’ll never abandon Dylan like my dad did me.”

“Done,” he said and she could see him smiling at her insecurity of it. “Besides, any man that would abandon you is a bloody fool if you ask me.”

She rose up out of the embraced and looked at him, as if for the first time. It looked like she was searching for something, trying to see into his soul like he was able to do so easily with her. He coward under the gaze, not liking where it was sure to led. Her face soften as she gave up the search for whatever it was she was looking for.

“Thank you,” she said as she went back to the embrace she had just pulled away from. “You know, if you nice like that more often you wouldn’t get hit in the nose so much.”

He chuckled, half from relief that she did not see what he had been trying to fight and keep from her for over a year, half from the humor. “I’ll remember that next time.”

******

The slayer sat up in her bed, sweet dripping down her face as her breathing deepen in small gasps. From the nursery, Dylan was balling like she had never heard before, and her mother quickly made her way to the obviously frighten child. She scooped her up into her arms, and began to sway to try and calm her.

It was then that she noticed she still had on the gown from the night before. She must have fallen asleep in it. The last she had remembered from the night before was talking with Spike, about her desire to see her mother, about him swearing to never leave Dylan. When she had confided in him about her father abandoning her, she had not expected the response he gave. She didn’t know what she expected him to say, but that surely wasn’t it.

For a moment, she had almost thought that he...loved her. That was something that a person would say if they loved someone else. Then she remembered that this was Spike she was thinking about. He didn’t really love, he couldn’t, being soulless and all. But she had seen him with Dylan. He did love her. And sometimes, she caught him looking at her the same way. Did he? Could he?

She shook her head and carried Dylan back into her room as the child sobs slowly lessened.

“You have a bad dream like Mom?” Buffy asked as she walked to the window, so the two could watch the sunrise in a few minutes. She kissed the child on the top of the head, and then said, “It’s okay. Those nasty dreams can’t hurt you.” I hope, she added silently.

The suns first rays had not come yet, but the sky was starting to grow warm from impending event. She was going to watch this, but noticed something going on in the front entrance. Dylan was quiet by now, pulling and eating her mothers’ hair who had been very interested in the events unfolding below her.

One of Becket’s cars was pulled out front, running as one of the servants placed a bag in the trunk. Becket and Catherine were waiting beside the open door, and shot to attention as a man came from inside the house. Buffy instantly recognized Spike, though he didn’t have on his black duster, just his red shirt and black jeans. He went to Becket, took his hand and said something to him, which the older man nodded his head in agreement to. He then went to Catherine, took both her hands, and kissed her on the cheek. For a moment, Buffy felt a pang of jealousy, but she was too scared of what was going on before to worry about that. When he was getting into the car, she turned from the window, still clinging Dylan to her, and ran for the entrance.

He promised! He swore he wouldn’t leave! He swore!!

She reached the main foyer just as Catherine and Becket were coming back inside, the black car that held Spike long gone from out front. The two were speaking softly to one another as she hurried up to them, adjusting her grip on Dylan.

“Where is he?” she demanded coolly. “Where’s he going?”

Catherine looked to her father, searching for the answer. Becket raised his hands, reminding Buffy of how her grandfather use to do when he had news, usually not the good kind, and it was a way for him to keep whoever it was calm.

“Buffy,” he said gently. “Perhaps you should step into my office.”

She turned away from him sharply as Dylan began to cry, frighten by her mothers mood and action.

“Where did he go?” she bit through her teeth, wanting a strait answer and wanting it right then.

Becket let out a sigh and then said, “Africa.”

The stunned blonde blinked. “Africa? As in Lion King, Tarzan Africa?”

“Yes.”

“Why would he go there? And why didn’t he tell me?”

The man paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to put this. That made Buffy even more uncomfortable. When people had to think of ways to put things, it never turned out to be a good thing. Seeing her father flounder, Catherine decided to take a stab.

“Buffy, you trust Spike, yes?”

Now it was Buffy’s turn to pause. Did she trust him? The answer was clear to her. She had trusted him since before they got off that island. At first, it was for necessity. After that, it was because he earned it. Never once in the past year had she even seen him consider leaving her behind, and there were so many times he could have. He could have left her in that hospital back in Prague and saved his own sorry hid, but he didn’t. In fact, from what Catherine had told her of the incident, he had actually lead them away from her. So did she trust him?

“Yes,” she stated, making it sound like a simple word, but knowing it wasn’t.

“Then trust him now,” she told her as only a friend could. Catherine approached her, and placed her hand on Buffy shoulder, opposite from Dylan that had claimed and was still whimpering onto her mothers new, and now wrinkled, dress. “Do not worry. He will return.”

“But...why did he leave?” she asked softly.

If it were possible, she would swear that Catherine’s face became kinder. “That is for him to tell upon his return. Now come,” she said as she started to lead her back into the home. “Let’s get you changed, and join Father for breakfast.”

******

Lang sat at the computer, typing away furiously. One little lead that was all she needed. One.

Travers was growing more and more impatient with her and she feared she might be joining her old assistant in the great beyond if she did not provide something useful soon. They had come so close in Prague, so close. But there hadn’t been a word since then.

When the words on the screen began to bleed together, Lang turned away, forcefully jerked off her glasses and throwing them on the table in front of her.

They knew it had to be someone with power that was helping them, that was the only way they could literally drop off the face of the earth like they had. The only question was, who? There were many powerful men who had knowledge of the super natural world, any of which could have taken an interest in the couple and the child. After all, with news of the miracle child’s birth, surely those who were familiar with the old prophecies would know that the angel would be soon to follow.

Travers had gone strait to work hiding this information from the rest of the Council. Most of them had no knowledge of the project at all, just a few high ranking officials, and that was how he planned to keep it. Someday, when the angel was older, she would have to choose her loyalties, and he wanted to be the soul person with that honor. He cared nothing if she served the Council, only him.

The computer dinged as it told her that she had a new e-mail, and the tired woman reluctantly answered it. Her eyes grew wide as she read the letter, a smile daring to grow on her mouth.

It was from one of a butcher shop just outside of Madrid that catered for ‘special need’ services. Apparently, some wealthy horse racer that lived on the outskirts of town suddenly had an increased need for pigs blood.

******

“Come on, Dylan, you can do it,” Buffy encouraged the child that was on its hands and knees on the perfectly manicured lawn. “Come to Mommy.”

She had herself position mere inches away from the baby, who was learning her brand new skill of crawling. Rosemary said she was still fairly young, being that she was only seven months, but Dylan was just like her parents. She was going to stick to something until she got it, no matter what people said. The child began to jerk back and forth as she tried to will herself forward, wanting to get to her mother so she would lift her up. Finally, she placed one hand out, scooted on her knees, then followed with the other hand.

“That’s it, come on,” Buffy said happily as the child came the few inches to her. She bent down and picked her up, kissing her on the cheek for her triumph. “That’s my girl,” she said between kisses.

“I take it she is mastering the art of crawling,” Catherine said as she walked towards the mother and daughter pair from the house.

“Yeah,” Buffy beamed. “Won’t be long, and I’ll have to chase her down for a bath or feeding time.”

“Trust me when I say you will never have to chase her down for a feeding,” Catherine laughed.

Buffy giggled a little before turning back to her daughter. Her little mouth formed a perfect O as she looked in wonder at the sky above, which was growing dark. For some reason, twilight and sunrise amazed the child, leaving her in a transfixed stage whenever she witnessed them. The stars started to faintly break through the veil of blue and black, and her tiny hand reached up, as if trying to catch one, temporarily forgetting her accomplishment.

Buffy bent over and kissed her forehead, marveling at her amazement.

Her bright blue eyes turned to her mother, and Buffy caught her breath. When she was born, Buffy had thought that she had inherited those from her sister, but Dylan’s was much sharper, much deeper. Now that she was looking at them, in dim light as night fast approached, she realized how much they looked like Spike’s eyes. In fact, those where his eyes.

The slayer frowned at the thought of him. It had been three months since she saw him load up in Becket’s expensive car and drive off into the early morning. She had spent the day worry about the sun getting him, as he stupidly decided to travel when the sun was out, but Catherine had assured her of the car’s safety from that very thing. She looked for his return every day for a month, then every couple of hours the second, and now every time she came out, she looked to the drive to see if the vehicle was returning. It always greeted her the same way. Empty.

Surprisingly, she found herself missing him. He had been her only company that she could trust for so long that it felt wrong that he wasn’t around. She needed someone who she could fight with, verbally and physically, who was on the same level as her. Catherine tried to fill in as a sparing partner, and, for a human, she was good, but Buffy still had to take it easy on her. After all, she was still the slayer and she had the slayer strength. Catherine did not.

Then there was Dylan. Three months in baby time is, like, a life time. He missed her getting strong enough to sit up on her own. He missed her learning to crawl. He missed her growing up. Babies don’t stay babies forever. Pretty soon, she would be walking and talking, celebrating her first Halloween - though Buffy knew how the undead hated that holiday - her first Thanksgiving - an American holiday she fully intending on exposing her daughter to just like she had the Forth of July - and her first birthday. If he didn’t come home soon, he’d miss all that. She didn’t want him to miss it. It wouldn’t be fair to Dylan, or him.

“Do not worry, Buffy,” Catherine said as if she could read her mind. “He will return soon.”

“I hope so,” the blonde confessed. “Dylan is growing up so fast....She’ll be driving and off to college before you know it.”

“I think you still have awhile to wait for that,” Catherine said smiling. “And I am also fairly certain he will have returned by then.”

Buffy gave a small laugh, realizing she was jumping the gun a bit.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed. “Why don’t we go see if dinners ready yet. How ‘bout it, Dylan? You want to eat.” The child giggled at her mother. “That’s what I thought you’d say,” Buffy said as she and Catherine turned and went back in the house.

******

Lang was practically glowing when she saw that familiar blond hair from the perch she had in the woods. It was her. It could only be her. And that child she was holding as she talked to the black hair woman, that was her baby, the one they had searched for over a year for. She could hardly contain her excitement as she turned back to the agents that Travers had sent along with her when she said they might have a lead. He had sent her with them to make sure there were no screw ups this time, and she fulfill intended on there not being any.

They were all identically dressed in long overcoats, with black jeans and shirts to match underneath. She didn’t know how they were burning alive in the outfits. All she had on was the black shirt and pants and she was already about to die.

The leader looked at her for conformation that they had found there target. Lang drew in an excited breath and said, “It’s her.”

He nodded his head and turned back to the group. “We move in at o’ one hundred hours. Remember, the objective is to bring in the slayer, the vampire, and the baby out alive. Terminate anyone else that might stand in the way.”

The all nodded their heads in agreement as Lang added, “Remember, the vampire will not be able to fight back due to that chip in his head, so he should be fairly easy to capture. However, the slayer is fully capable of taking us out. You men should focus mainly on drugging her first.” She turned back and looked at the house, whose lights were starting to come on one by one. “I’ll take care of the child.”

******

Nightmares plagued her dreams yet again that night. This one was different, an old one she had been having since she escaped from the island. She could see Willow fighting Glory and winning. She felt such pride for her friend as she stood down the woman as bravely as she ever could, only feel horror as Glory grabbed her and pulled her through some portal Willow herself had opened. Buffy sat strait up in her bed, suppressing a scream that hung heavy in her throat.

Her room was completely dark then, except for a faint, yellow light that glowed from the nursery. Buffy pushed the silk sheet off and went to investigate. Rosemary had fallen asleep next to the crib that Dylan slept it, the older woman having a colorful children book open in her lap. The blonde smiled at the sweet sight, and decided it best not to disturb them. Instead, she walked back through the French doors and closed them behind her as she headed back to bed to try and sleep again.

But something felt off in the house and she was becoming more and more uncomfortable by the minute. She tried to ignore it, but, the longer she lay in the bed trying to sleep, the more powerful it became. Finally, she gave up and decided to see what could be causing such a feeling. She would never get to sleep if she didn’t.

Buffy quietly opened the door and stepped into the hallway. It looked dark and mincing as she had ever seen it, but she pushed it aside as she began to go in search for the off feelings origin. Thanks to her navy blue pajamas, she blended more into the shadows then she would have normally, though why that seemed important she didn’t know.

She crept down the main stair well that lead into the foyer, her feet growing cold against the well polished black and yellow marble floor. Something, or someone, was defiantly there. What she had hoped was only her imagination suddenly became very real when she entered the main security office. Sitting behind the surveillance camera equipment was Juan, Becket’s head of security, with his throat slashed. He hadn’t even been able to get out a scream.

Buffy gasped, not actually having seen a dead human body in so long that she had forgotten how sickening one looked like. Slowly, she backed away from the open door; the light from inside flowing over her, exposing her to anyone came along. And someone did. Five of them to be exact, dressed completely in black, quickly formed a circle around the slayer.

“What? Surplus store have a sale on ninja outfits?” she asked dryly. They were really too big to be ninja’s, but it was the only thing she could think of at the time.

She did know one thing; there wasn’t enough room to fight here. If she wanted to stand a chance, she would have to lead them outside, or at least to a larger room, preferable one as far away as possible from Dylan.

She attacked the man that stood between her and the rest of the hall first, knowing that she could lead them away if she just get down it. Buffy quickly did a round house, knocking the man to ground, just as she ran over him and the rest of the group followed close behind. Using every ounce of her slayer speed, she darted through the dark home that she had thankfully finally learned the layout of, leading the men through corridor after corridor. Finally, she ducked into green house/garden that was attached to kitchen.

It was one of those creepy old green houses that had a knack for appearing in ghost movies now a days. Its cast iron frame, with fogged window walls except for the ceiling that was clear glass, and a large fountain with a statue of a young woman standing in the middle of the dark water set directly in the middle, provided her new battle ground.

Buffy never liked to come in here. One, even in the middle of the night, it was still much to hot for her taste, and two, this place gave off major wiggin vibes. Hopefully, with it being so dark except for the moon light, they’d get the creeps and she could use that to her advantage.

She tucked herself into one of the darker corner were a large batch of bushed provided covering, and watched as the five men, one limping now from being trample, came inside. The man at the head of the group, obviously the leader, pointed to two of the men to go check out the other side of the greenhouse as he and the other two checked the side Buffy hid in. The little blonde pulled in tightly to herself as the three slowly crept along the stone pathway, their heads turning from side to side as they searched for any movement. She watched through a small brake in the bush as they passed her by.

When they were passed her, she reemerged from her hiding spot and attacked from behind. The one on the back right side spotted her movements first, but only in time to see the back of her fist smash into his face, breaking his nose on contact. The other two swung around to see what was happening, as Buffy kicked the man in the stomach, then through him into the man on the left. The two crashed into one of the rose bushes, each yelping in pain as the thorns tore into their flesh.

The leader attacked her head on, with a blur of punches and kicks flying at her head. She ducked and dodged, trying to land her own on, but failed to. The two men in the rose bush scrambled to their feet and charged. She dropped to the ground, half trying to avoid them, half avoiding a well placed kick. One of the men tripped over her, knocking his head hard against the brick pathway, which cracked his skull. The other joined with his friend, giving Buffy a two sided fight.

The slayer leapt high into the air, kicking the man whose nose she had broken in the chest. The force was so great, that he flew backwards through one of the windows, shattering it as he passed through.

The man in charge hit her twice in the face, once from the left, once from the right, but the blows weren’t even as hard as the ones that Spike had given her in the sparing matches.

“You know, I would say you hit like a girl,” she said as she caught his fist mid air. “But that would be insulting to my gender.” She smashed her head into his face, knocking the man back as she head back for the entrance.

The man roared slightly as he leapt after her, knocking her to the ground with him on top of her. She rolled onto her back, and he sat on top of her, using all his weight to hold her down. He quickly grabbed both her arms and locked them over her head, and the other two men seemed to appear out of no where to assist.

They were stronger then they looked, holding down the slayer as she struggled to free herself from them.

“I guess you guys have been eating your Weatties,” she said mockingly as she tried to pull herself free, but failed. She really was out of practice.

One of the men who joined him reached into his pocket, pulled out a black case, and popped it quickly. Inside, was a needle filled already filled and ready to go. Her eyes widen as he prepared to use it.

“Have I mentioned I’m the fondest person of shots?” she asked lamely.

The man with shot descended upon her bare arm, and Buffy drew in her bottom lip as she prepared for the sting. Then, a shot blasted through the green house, echoing loudly, as the man who sat on top of her head basically disappeared from his body. The remains loosen its grip on her, and slid off to the side as the three look in carnage at the event. Buffy sat up slightly and saw Becket standing at the door way, a shot gun in hand that was still smoking.

He raised it again at the other two men, who knew they didn’t stand a chance against the weapon. She used this distraction to her advantage and jammed the needle into the mans knee that held it. He cringed in pain as she leapt to her feet and the other man got to his, as she punched him hard in the face. Both men were unconscious seconds later and she ran to join her friend.

“Thanks,” she said as he held the door open for her.

“As you American’s might say, no problem,” he answered as he shut the door behind her. “Now, come on. Let’s get the other and get the bloody hell out of here.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

******

Spike sat in the back seat of the car, watching as the dark forest passed by quickly. He had been away for so long. He hadn’t meant to, but he just didn’t know how he was going to face her again. Becket had been right, the demon had gotten rid of the chip for him, but it had cost him something, cost him his demon. Now, he had a soddin’ soul.

He should have known to choose his words carefully. But did he? No. He had to say ‘Make me what I was. Give them what they deserve.’ Well, won’t Buffy and Dylan be surprised.

He was thankful that he hadn’t turned out like the great brooding man himself. No, he had always been too much of a realist to become like that, even with that hopeless romantic and poet that he shared his memory with. It was in the past, it was done, and there was no changing it, no matter how much he would like to. One reason, he supposed, was that the poof had find redemption through helping strangers, that they were his second chance. Spike already had his, and she was hopefully sleeping peacefully in the nursery.

It had only been a couple of nights ago that he actually found himself laughing at the absurdity of it all. Unlike a certain souled vampire he knew, his was already secured, lock, stock, and barrel with not happiness clause in sight. Good thing too, with Dylan and Buffy around.

Like every other plan he has ever concocted that involved the slayer in some form or fashion, things didn’t go as planned and consequences were had. This happened to be his this time. Now that he thought of it, it was really that bad a deal.

“We’re here, Sir,” the driver called from up front, as the manor came into view.

The car came to a stop at the front entrance, and he got out as the driver hurried to retrieve his bag from the back. The moment he stepped into the house, he knew something was wrong. There were more people here, their sent was lingering in the foyer, and it was recent. Very recent. Twenty minutes recent. He placed the bag down by the door, and began to creep through the house.

He moved into the east wing, picking up a strong sent that was heading like a bee line strait to Buffy’s room. Spike came to her door and found it wide open, a stranger dressed in black standing in the nursery doorway, looking at the child that slept. He felt his anger rise, and he vamped out.

“Get away from there!” he demanded.

The woman head shot up just as he tackled her to the ground. Rosemary screamed loudly at the sight, and Dylan began to cry at being startled awake. The nanny scooped her up in her arms and took off into the hallway as the two wrestled and fought on the ground. Spike finally got on top of the woman and hit her hard in the face, knocking her out cold.

He went out into the hall where he found Rosemary trying to sway Dylan into being calm again, but was failing miserably. The old woman jerked slightly, not recognizing who he was for a moment, then relaxed.

“Mr. Spike,” she said happily. “I’m so happy you have returned.”

“Glad someone is, love,” he said. “Come on, let’s find Buffy before sleepin’ beauty in there wakes up.”

“What’s going on?!” Catherine demanded, emerging at one end of the hall.

A shot gun blast rung through the house at that moment and Spike felt his body become even colder then it already was.

“Buffy,” he said in a hushed whisper as he took off to the origin of the sound, with Rosemary and Catherine tailing closely behind.

The group came charging down the main stair well just as two people emerged from the back end of the house, the petite blonde being one of them. She froze at upon seeing him, and he didn’t know if she were happy to see him or not. Dylan’s crying had died down, but the whimpering was still audible as her parents looked at each other for the first time in months.

When she was over the initial shock of seeing him again, she walked to him, her arms swinging hard at her sides. He was preparing himself to be punched in the face. Instead, she nailed him in the stomach, causing him to double over from the blow.

“Good to see you too, Slayer,” he said as he slowly straiten up.

She then reached up, grabbed the back of his head, and crushed her lips to his. It was tight, controlled, and, most of all, happy. He looked at her in surprise when she pulled away from him, but she kept her face even.

“Don’t you ever leave me like that again,” she warned sternly. “Or I’ll have to stake your ass.”

He opened his mouth to point out that she had said ‘me’ instead of Dylan, when Becket cut him off.

“Continue this later,” he said as Rosemary handed Dylan over to her mother. “We need to get away from-”

Becket yelled in pain as an arrow entered his chest, just above the heart. He grabbed for it as he fell, the shot gun falling to the ground and sliding out of his reach. Catherine called out to him as she raced for her father. Dylan began to scream again as Spike put himself between the mother and child, and whoever had fired the shot from upstairs. Slowly descending down the stairs, was the woman in the commando outfit he had knocked unconscious in Buffy room. Spike heard Buffy catch her breath at the sight of her.

“Lang,” she said in a low voice, pulling the wailing baby a little closer to her.

“Hello, Ms. Summers,” the Asian woman answered with a wicked smile as she swung the cross bow at her side. “You’re looking well.”

Spike growled at the woman. So this was the infamous Lang he had heard so much about from Buffy and that Chen guy. Funny, there didn’t look to be a lot to her. He took a step towards her but the cross bow shot up from her side and pointed directly at him.

“Uh, uh,” she warned. “I know I don’t usually don’t do the retrieving parts of these missions, so my recon isn’t as sharp as the others, but I’m pretty sure pointy, wooden objects are a no no for your kind.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rosemary make a move for the shot gun that had slid to just a few feet in front of her. As she went for it, a shot rang out, and the old woman fell to the ground dead. The group of four turned to the door that Buffy and Becket had come through and saw a man dressed completely in black with a bleeding nose standing there, a rifle that he must have liberated from the security office raised and ready to fire.

“And bullets are for the rest of you,” Lang smiled as she finally reached the bottom of the stairs, the cross bow staying on Spike.

He backed up, still keeping himself between Buffy and Lang. If she wanted her or Dylan, she’d have to kill him first.

“Dustin’ me or killin’ the slayer doesn’t work real for your little project. Now does it?” he said coolly, trying to buy them time so they could formulate some sort of plan.

“No, it doesn’t,” she admitted as she reached them. “But I don’t know how much use I have left for you anyway, considering that little chip in your head isn’t working anymore.”

“What?” Buffy said horrified from behind him, clutching Dylan tightly.

He turned to try and quickly make her understand, but Lang spoke first. “Yes. You didn’t know?” An evil smile crossed her lips. “He’s the one that gave me this nice little shiner.”

“Buffy, it’s not what you think,” he tried to defend, but she was already afraid of him again, or afraid of what he would do.

“That’s where you’ve been?” she demanded. “You went to get your chip out?”

He stood in silence for a moment, then said, “Yes. But-”

“How could you? How could you put Dylan in that kind of danger?”

“Buffy, please, listen. It’s not what it seems.”

“Then what is it?!”

Lang cleared her throat, bringing the two back to the situation at hand. “Not that I’m not enjoying this little scene from One UnLife To Live, but I do have a job to do here. Marcus,” she yelled at the man that held the rifle on them. “Get the kid.”

He came towards Buffy, and Spike made a move to stop him, when Lang and her cross bow blocked his path. Marcus kept his rifle slightly lifted at the slayer, who looked as if she had no intentions of giving up her child to this man.

“Catherine,” Spike heard Becket whisper to his daughter. “When I tell you to, pull out the arrow.”

“What? I can’t do that. It could kill you.”

“Just do it. Please.”

Catherine pressed her lips tightly together, and then nodded her head. Spike knew what he was doing. He was going to give them a distraction, even if it did cost him his life.

Marcus reached the mother and child, and he lowered his rifle as he reached for the baby girl.

“Now!” Becket hissed.

Catherine complied and a blood curdling scream pierced through the manor. Both Marcus and Lang turned to see what was going on, and the parents took point. Spike stepped at Lang, and knocked the cross bow upward, the arrow firing at the ceiling. As she stared in surprise at his action, he reached back and punched as hard as he could in the face, knocking the woman a few feet away from him.

At the same time, Buffy took advantage of his distracted state and kicked Marcus in the stomach with a sideways kick. When he doubled over, she kicked upward like a cheerleader, landing it right in his chin. He did a flip in the air, and landed hard on his stomach. With the force of the kick, Spike was pretty sure she broke his neck.

The room was silent for a moment, expect for the crying baby, as the group tried to comprehend what had just happened. As Buffy rocked Dylan, saying soothing things to the seven month old, Spike slowly approached them.

“You alright, love?” he asked cautiously.

She nodded her head quickly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“And the little one?” he said as he reached out and touched the back of the baby’s soft head with her thin, blond hair. Thankfully, Buffy didn’t jerk her away from him.

“Just scared, I think,” she told him.

They stood there like that for a long while, letting the silence wash over them. It was something they needed. She was staring into his face, giving him the obvious look of disapproval for he had done while he was away, but saving the fight for another day, another time.

When she finally turned away from him, she looked over to the side, and her face fell. “Catherine?”

He turned around and saw the young black hair woman standing up from her fathers’ body. Buffy hurried over to them, and Spike followed, but he knew it was already too late.

“He’s gone,” Catherine said sadly as she kept her head down and walked away towards Rosemary’s body.

Spike looked down at the man. He had been right when he meet him. They had agreed on why Dylan should be protected, but he gave his word in that he would die protecting her. In his book, that made him a friend. The vampire bent down to his knees next to the body, reached up, and closed his eyes.

“Thanks, Mate, for everything.”

“Ms. Summers!” a voice screamed at them from behind. Buffy and Spike turned to see Lang holding the rifle up at the slayer. “I believe you have something that belongs to me,” she said as she prepared a shot that would have taken Buffy’s head off. Spike vamped out, ready to attack when another voice rang through the hall.

“Hey, bitch!”

Lang turned just as the shot gun went off, putting a nice hole through the woman’s chest. The Asians woman face was forever frozen in shock as her body fell to the ground, right on top of Marcus’s.

The two turned to see Catherine bringing the shot gun down, an even look on her face as she looked at the woman she had just killed. The weapon fell to the ground with a loud thud as she looked over at them.

“That was for my father,” she told them as she turned and walked away.

Spike got to his feet, and turned to Buffy. Lang might have had a boss, but she was the head of the project. Without her and her knowledge, there was no project. That meant...

“It’s over?” she asked like a small child. “We can go home?”

A faint smile crossed his lips as he pulled Buffy to him, careful to leave plenty of room between them for Dylan, but holding her close enough to where he could rest his chin on her head. He kissed the top of it before saying, “Yeah, love. We can go home.”

******

Travers sat behind his desk with his fingers locked. So, Lang was dead. Well, he can’t exactly say he was sorry. To say she was incompetent was insulting to all incompetent people. No, he would just have to play this a different way. No more going directly after them because that was a tactic that just didn’t work. He would have to try something else.

More then likely, they will head back to Sunnydale now, thinking that since Lang is gone, they will leave them alone. He would for awhile, let them get comfortable, let them drop there guard. Yeah, that was what he will do. Let her Watcher even call the Council about the child, which he was confident he would do someday. But if they thought that this was over, they couldn’t be more wrong.

The End of Part One