A/N: This is it, the end. I'm kind of sad to see it end; I've had a great time with this story. It's been nearly a year and a half since I started writing it (and I apologize for how long it's taken, particularly to those readers who have been with me since the beginning. The over-a-year break between chapters 2 and 3 is a personal worst), and at that time I'd never completed a multi-chapter story. I've gotten so much more comfortable writing BtVS fic since then, it's taught me a lot about keeping up a plot and how to capture the voices of various characters. I still can't quite believe I've actually completed a long fic with lots of group scenes and a coherent plot. This concludes my tl;dr victory ramblings.

Thank you so much to my reviewers! I love you all, you make me want to keep writing. And I especially want to thank Brandi Rochon, Geeky13, and Princesakarlita411, who have reviewed nearly every chapter.

To everyone who asked: Yes, there will be a sequel. It's called Damphyr, and I'll post the next chapternext week. I also have a season 3 rewrite fic that I'm working on, which is completely unrelated to Innocence Rewrite and Damphyr, which I'll start posting sometime soon.

Disclaimer: I am not Joss. Therefore, I have been forced to conclude that I do not own BtVS.

Epilogue

Several Months Later

"Hey, G-man," Xander said. "Mind telling us why we're here?"

"Uh, yes, of course. Sorry, just double-checking a few things," Giles said as he emerged from his office. "And Xander, I do believe I instructed you never to call me that."

"So then, what's the what?" Buffy echoed Xander's question. She was seated on Angel's lap, with her feet propped up on the table. Giles scowled at her feet.

Buffy scowled right back. "Deal with it. My feet are swollen and they hurt."

"Uh, yes," Giles stammered. He sorted through the pile of books he had out on the table and seemed to regain focus. "I believe I've found exactly the sort of thing we've been looking for. The Prophecy of the Damphyr."

"Prophecy of the whosit?"

"Damphyr. It's the folkloric term for the offspring of vampire and human," Giles explained.

"There's a word for it?" Willow asked incredulously.

"If you look hard enough, there's generally a word for just about anything," Ms. Calendar observed.

"Mind explaining why there's a word for something that isn't supposed to be possible?"

"Folktales and fantasy stories. It just means someone's imagined the concept. While a surprising amount of mythology is based in truth, it remains that much is erroneous. Now, are you going to pick apart everything I say, or are you going to let me explain?" Giles said stiffly.

"Do you really want us to answer that?" Xander inquired cheekily.

"Go on, Rupert," Ms. Calendar said.

"Yes, anyway, the prophecy is rather frustratingly nonspecific, but it speaks of a child of Champions who will be a Champion in her own right, born to the once-dead Chosen. It comes from the Pergamum Codex, which is a highly authoritative source – in fact, the most complete and accurate volume of prophecies relating to the Slayer." Most of the teens rolled their eyes at this; they really didn't care about those sorts of details. Giles ignored them and continued, "Quite frankly, I'm surprised I didn't think of it sooner. Only I've been rather leery of the Codex since … um, events of last year."

"I'm surprised at you, Giles," Buffy teased. "I can't believe you would abandon a valuable source just because of a little detail like my death."

"He's irrational like that," Xander laughed.

"I beg of you not to make light of that," Giles replied seriously.

"Sorry," Buffy murmured.

"May I?" Angel asked, gesturing to the tome Giles was holding. The Watcher flipped open the book of prophecies and handed it over.

"Poor thing," Willow said softly.

"What?"

"The child. Imagine growing up with that kind of destiny hanging over you head, always knowing –" she cut off abruptly as she noticed her best friend's stricken expression. Whoops. "I'll be quiet now."

"I'm sure she'll be just fine, Buffy," Ms. Calendar reassured.

"Yeah," Xander added supportively. "What kid wouldn't turn out well with such a great family?"

Nevertheless, Buffy was uncharacteristically quiet on the way home. ('Home', incidentally, was now a mansion on Crawford Street, Angel having decided that the apartment might be a bit of a tight fit for three. Buffy had no clue how he'd procured it.)

"What's on your mind?" Angel asked gently.

"Lia," she replied simply. Lia Kathleen Summers was the name they'd tentatively decided on for the baby.

After a long moment, she elaborated. "Willow had a point. I was thinking about it even before she said anything … my first instinct when I found out was 'it's probably some kind of prophesized warrior' … or something like that. I've never been so sorry to be right. Ours isn't an easy life. It's not what I want for my baby. I doubted she'd be spared from it, but … I'd hoped."

"Think of it this way," Angel suggested. "She'll have to see the darkness of our world anyway; there's no way around it. At least this way we know she'll have the strength to handle it, to fight it."

"But I don't want her to have to fight it. I want to protect her from it," she protested.

"So do I," he replied. "So do I. But that won't work forever."

Buffy suddenly laughed. "Wait a minute, when did I get to be the overprotective one?"

Angel smirked. "I don't know. But I suspect Lia's not going to suffer from being overexposed to the dangers of the world for a long time."

-finis-