"Hamburgers," Buffy mumbled in her sleep, tossing and turning, propping himself up on one elbow, Angel stared down at her in concern.

Her skin was soaked in sweat, the sheets sticking to her naked body yet she still shivered as though she were locked in an ice locker, a troubled frown creased her brow every so often replaced by a look of genuine terror. With a soft whisper of her name, Angel gently shook her shoulder.

"I'm getting it OK," she snapped, lashing out at him as she came round.

"Easy," he mumbled, nursing what he was sure was a broken nose.

"Oh my God Angel!" all sleepiness had left her as she reached up to gently touch his bruised feature. "I am so sorry!"

"Why were you dreamin', sorry, nighdmarin', aboud 'amburgers?" he asked, sounding distinctly strange.

For a second she stared at him without understanding before she broke into a soft laugh as she realised what he was saying, impeded by his rapidly swelling nose. But then the thought of hamburgers took over and she shivered violently. As super human, yes human, healing kicked in, Angel's voice returned to normal.

"Were they like, giant mutated hamburgers with legs?" he questioned her with interest, looking at her searchingly.

"No, just regular hamburgers, hamburger-sized hamburgers with relish and cheese and pickle all laid out in a row…"

"And that scared you?"

"Yes."

"Why?" he asked, his voice blank and mildly confused.

"You try serving them to horde after horde of junk food fuelled teenagers, fat businessmen, harassed women with screaming kids all of them wanting instant service, word perfect, extra mayo, extra pickle, hold the onions, side order of fries, chocolate milkshakes, I didn't order this, this has too much lettuce… ARGH!"

"Whoa, baby," Angel gathered her against his chest, laying a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "That's all over now, you work for me, and you never have to get hamburgers again what brought this on?"

"Cordelia."

"What'd she say?"  Angel groaned.

"She sent me out to get lunch and they wanted," pause for a theatrical shudder. "Hamburgers."

"But you were the one demanding," Angel allowed himself a cruel smile. "Extra mayo, extra pickle, no cheese, no relish, small fries, small chocolate milkshake…"

"STOP IT! SADIST!" she yelped, burying her head under the pillow and dragging the covers with her for good measure. "I HATE HAMBURGERS!"

"I know what you do like…"

"What?" she muttered warily, allowing him a wary look.

"You like spaghetti-o's," he whispered, pulling the covers down a little.

"Mm," she agreed.

"You like cookie dough fudge mint chip ice cream… especially when it's all melty and gooey…"

"And I'm eating it with, should I say 'off', you…."

"You like caramel frappuccino from Starbucks with whipped cream first thing on a morning…"

"I do," she responded, touching her lips to his.

"You like going to the beach and watching the sun set on the horizon, the way the sky turns orange then black and watching the stars come out one by one and the moon rise," he continued, displaying the depth of his intimate knowledge of her. "You like making out on the couch, watching a movie while it's raining outside, sweet popcorn, Christmas, going to clubs, dancing…"

"What do you like Angel?" she questioned softly. "Tell me a secret, something I don't know about you… something you've never, ever told me…"

"My middle name's Conleth…" he informed her sheepishly, lowering his eyes.

"Conleth?" she repeated softly. "Liam Conleth O'Brien. It's nice, but I prefer Angel."

"So do I, want to know something else?"

"What?"

He leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially in her ear.

"I love you."

"I love you too," she responded, kissing him gently. "But that wasn't really a secret… shall I tell you a secret?"

Her eyes were sparkling playfully as she looked at him and he couldn't help but smile with her. So obsessed was he with drinking in the sight of her that he forgot to answer her question.

"Do you want me to amaze you?" she prompted him.

"You already do, each and every day," he responded softly.

"Charmer," she looked down and blushed before once again meeting his gaze. "Give me your hand."

He did as he was told with a slightly puzzled smile, she held his large hand in her much smaller one for a few seconds, running her fingertips over the calluses and indents in his palm before drawing it to her stomach and laying it on the smooth, tight flesh.

"Do you want to know a secret," she repeated in a theatrical whisper, he nodded slowly. "You're touching the newest addition to the O'Brien name…"

"You mean you're… we're gonna… you're pregnant," he squeaked, his voice comically high.

"I'm pregnant," she confirmed. "We're gong to have a baby."

"Oh my God this is fantastic," he yelled, squeezing her tightly.

"Angel calm down! You'll wake Dawn!"

"I don't care! You're pregnant with my baby! Our baby! We're having a baby!"

"Stop speaking in exclamations," she scolded playfully.

"When we… you know… earlier," he began, suddenly worried. "We didn't harm them, did we?"

"No, Angel," she kissed him. "Stupid man! When mommy's happy, the baby's happy, and trust me, what you did made me very happy!"

"Me too," he smiled at the memory.

"So you're not mad?" she asked cautiously.

"Mad?" he looked at her blankly.

"About the baby?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"I love you Angel," she murmured, snuggling into his chest and tucking her head under his chin.

"I love you too baby," he responded, kissing the top of her blonde head and closing his eyes.

Within minutes, the pair were asleep.