Let's Stay Together

PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Still.

For Amanda and Adelyn.

A/N: I know that there are lots of recaps, but bear with it. It's a little more complicated than it seems first. Be sure to review and tell me anything.

Chapter Two

After all the fights. After all the falls…

Buffy, after conversations with Xander and Cordelia about Willow, headed straight to doctor Stansfield's office.

"Buffy, the doctor will see you now," Lisa, the nurse said with a smile. The slayer entered.

"Hey there," the doc cheerfully greeted. "How are you doing today?"

"Good. I know that I'm not on appointment, but I just need to know if my child is alright."

"What happened?" the lady leaned forward.

" I got into a fight with An--- …the father," she corrected herself quickly. "And it turned physical. I fell and rolled a couple of times, so…"

"Did you feel any pain?"

"No."

"Any awkward sensations?"

"No."

"When did this happen?"

"Earlier on today," she replied. The doctor plugged the stethoscope in her ears and placed the little disc on her chest, then unplugged and rose from the chair. She went behind her patient and massaged the underside of her chin and the sides of her neck, then sat down.

"Couples these days," she sighed, shaking her head. "You seem fine."

"My baby?"

"Should be healthy, just a little bumped around. Nice to see you. Take care, Miss Summers."

"I will," she said, rising from her chair. With a smile, she exited.

But when she stepped out, it instantly faded and distress marred her features. She was worried, and a little frightened of Angelus now. Hopefully, he hadn't figured out the reason why she was holding back when they fought.

More importantly, Giles was nowhere to be found.

Buffy walked out of the hospital, out on the way home, to go through the park. There was always a fang or two lurking around, so she thought she'd dust them for the time being to rid the anxiety in her heart.

Just when things couldn't get any worse, Spike appeared, and Buffy immediately locked into alert mode.

When he tried to step closer, she hit him twice in the face. She had to be careful. He grabbed her by the shoulders to restrain her, but she countered by kicking him in the gut.

"Now, you hold on a second!" his British twang broke the silent fight, then shoved the pregnant girl away from himself. Instead of listening, she grabbed a stake from within her coat, which startled the vampire quite much.

He immediately jumped back with hands up in surrender. "Hey!" he spoke again, "White flag here. I quit."

"Let me clear this up for you. We're mortal enemies. We don't get time-outs," she said matter-of-factly. She was still holding the weapon in her hand, in a tight, weary grasp that threatened to turn her knuckles white.

"You want to go around, pet, I'll have a gay old time of it." Spike shuffled. "You want to stop Angel… We're gonna have to play this a lot differently."

Buffy frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Seriousness enveloped the vampire. "I'm talking about your ex, pet. I'm talking about putting him in the bloody ground."

What? Was he kidding her? She was blonde, but not THAT dumb. The slayer chuckled. "This has gotta be the LAMEST trick you guys have ever thought up." She lowered her stake and relaxed. She was about to laugh, until he said,

"He's got your watcher. Right now, he's probably torturing him."

Buffy got defensive again. "What do you want?"

And so Spike's plan was unveiled, to get back Drusilla. A small fight erupted, but maturity convinced the slayer to listen. For the sake of a three-week child developing in her womb.

*

This was the time, apocalypse. Catalysed by Angelus. The plan devised HAD to work, regardless of who she was working with.

"You will be free," she heard Angelus say, before drawing a blade across his palm. The knife then clattered to the floor. "And so will we all."

Stealthily, she came up behind a bystanding vampire and removed its head cleanly with the sword she brought. As the ash fell to the floor, Drusilla and Angelus turned to look at the slayer.

"Hello, lover," she addressed with a smiled.

Angelus replied boredly, "I don't have time for you."

This was the monster that almost killed all her friends. Look into his eyes, girl, Angel is gone, she thought to herself for motivation. The best she could do was destroy the demon she brought forth and took him away. That took her Angel away. It was all her fault, really. That the apocalypse had come. It was her love that relived the curse, that gave her this beast. At least I gave him his happiness before he left.

"You don't have a lot of time left."

A smiled played on Angelus' lips. "Coming on kind of strong, don't you think? You're playing some deep odds here. Do you really think you can take us all on?"

Confidently, Buffy replied, "No, I don't," as Spike rose from his wheelchair and hands clasping an andiron to whip him across the back. Plan A initiated. Spike busied himself with sedating Drusilla with violence, Buffy did the same with another vampire, disposing of it quickly. However, when she focused her attention on Angelus, he already had held the sword in the petrified Acathla's heart.

He pulled.

Buffy scrambled to claim her own sword. He heart was in her throat, but she had to maintain calmness. It sucked, but it was necessary.

Now they were both standing. "You almost made it Buff."

"It's not over yet." Let's not hurt my kid, yeah? she thought.

"My boy Acathla here is about to wake up." He scowled. "You're going to Hell," he spat, like battery acid.

Retaining her charm, she readied herself. "Save me a seat."

The fight ensued. Much taunting and maliciousness perceived, but Buffy kept on. Kill This bitch, he isn't Angel anymore.

With a kick, she sent him flying through the mansion door, back into the room with the statue of Acathla. Their fight had commenced throughout the entire floor of the mansion. Before Angelus could regain complete footing, Buffy leapt and swung her sword at him. Because he parried successfully, she attempted again and again, until he missed a parry and got cut, a long laceration on his hand.

He immediately dropped his weapon and tried to see to his harmed hand. With a high kick to his face, he fell back and landed on his knees.

This is just his body.

She lifted her sword.

You promised Giles, remember? I need to save the world no matter what. I have to---

Angelus gasped loudly, then groaned in pain as his demonic façade melted into his human planes. His eyes glowed bright red for an instant before returning to the brown colour she knew…

Then he collapsed to the floor, crying hard. Humility meant nothing at this point.

Remember what you promised Giles, Buffy. This is no way Angel.

She couldn't bring the sword down. Angelus rose again, eyes laden with tears. Not Angelus anymore.

"Buffy?" he called softly. He looked at her like he was speaking to a mother. He sobbed. "What's going on?"

Oh my God, she realised, but unsure. She was frozen.

"Where are we? I- I don't remember."

This is the father, your daddy, she connected with the growing embryo. Buffy's face softened and she lowered her sword. Oh my God.

"Angel?"

He spotted the wound from earlier, when she was clashing swords with his alter ego. "You're hurt," he said in the voice full of the concern that she treasured. She looked down and felt his gentle touch on her arm. He injury felt nothing in this moment of preciousness. She looked back up at him and it drew her closer to him by a step. Angel!

Angel threw his arms around her in an embrace, so tight and warm. He rubbed his cheek against her hair in an act of affection. For a second, she thought his heart had beat.

"Oh, Buffy… God." She was completely unsure of the reality, but she accepted the hug. This is so unreal, she thought. "I… I feel like I haven't seen you in months." This is Angel. She closed her eyes, savouring the moment, inhaling his familiar scent and just… loving him. "Oh, my God, everything's so muddled," he continued, holding her closer. "Oh…" He sighed heavily and planted a soft kiss on her shoulder. "Oh, Buffy…"

She broke down and cried into his shoulder, holding him as close as he wanted. She was going to tell him about her baby, their baby, but a low rumble echoed throughout the room.

Acathla was awakening.

No! Not now… Not… ever! The petrified statue's mouth opened a vortex. Then came the dreaded reminder. I have to keep my promise.

She let go, which plastered a confused look on his face. "What's happening?"

"Shh, don't worry about it," she whispered to him assuringly. Her heart was ready to break. Buffy brushed her fingers over his lips, then across his cheek, laying her hand on it before kissing him sweetly. Hellos and goodbyes were too much. He returned her kiss passionately. The way he had held her told Buffy he wanted to stay like that forever. She broke and he whimpered as she looked into those soulful eyes.

"I love you," she whispered. So much.

Angel returned, "I love you," also in a whisper. Her fingers touched his lips again.

"Close your eyes."

She nodded reassuringly, and he closed his eyes in the trust that he placed in her.

I love you Angel. Tears threatened to fall as she kissed him again, but the vortex was growing larger by the minute. Oh my God. She drew back her sword and thrust it into him, his eye flying open. A hand reached out to the back-stepping Buffy, bewildered, shocked at the turn of events.

The vortex slowly engulfed him, shrinking as he called her a final time. Silence.

Her eyes were fixed on the stone being. It had dawned on her; she had just sent him, her only true love to hell. She had lost him.

Fatherless.

She sobbed hard, backing up against a wall. This was the worse day of her life, as she placed her hand over her abdomen like she had always had when she found out about her pregnancy.

Buffy cried in isolation, realisation of what she just did to herself.

The house flew past.

The whole Acathla ordeal was much too painful. The Scoobies could cope without the slayer, for sure. Her only choice was to leave it all behind.

She was going to L.A for a while, until she'd settled down. After the 'NOW LEAVING SUNNYDALE' sigh flew past, she exhaled deeply and relaxed. The further the bus was driving away from the Hellmouth, the more peaceful she felt about herself, but it didn't mean there was no turmoil residing in her empty heart.

A new life was what she was determined to live. To restart. Even if darkness followed the slayer around, she'd have less problems maintaining a normal life of the little tow she used to live in. Baby needs to grow a hip teenager, she thought to herself. She had nine months to settle everything. Long enough, she estimated. She could get a job, easy. Buffy was flexible.

The young slayer pulled the travel bag closer to her side to leave an empty space, in case anyone would want to claim it. She heard that there were lots more passengers to go, like Los Angeles was the Paradise to go to. They could've been wrong, but this girl was ready to risk it. First, she had to rent a place with the thousand dollars she withdrew, hopefully sufficient enough until she found a job.

Soon, it seemed like a mile already, and the space beside her was taken by a young man in his mid-twenties, dressed casually in khakis and a white polo neck that was beneath a green shirt. It reminded her of a melon somehow.

Sitting in one place and staring at her reflection for what seemed as an eternity was mind-blowing. She was fidgeting uncomfortably in her position, constantly shifting her bag, crossing and uncrossing her legs ever so often. Very soon, she couldn't take it.

"I'm pregnant," she turned to him with a smile.

He responded with a few blinks. "Is that so?" he asked rhetorically, an Irish accent thick. "It doesn't seem like it."

"Three weeks," she stuck three fingers up, "Coming to four."

His gaze seemed as if he was analysing her. Other than that, Buffy didn't feel anything unusual or supernatural about him. Mostly.

The bus had been travelling, and after the guy beside her came up, it was a straight route to L.A. Looks like the hokey-pokey about paradise was a myth after all.

"Buffy Summers," she held out her hand.

The man shook it. "Francis Doy--- ahHHH!"

His grip grew tighter as he purposefully slammed his head against the hard and cold steel lining that was backing the chair in front. He groaned and broke into a fresh cold sweat, teeth clearly grinding. So much for normal, the girl thought. Soon after his pain subsided, he gasped and relaxed.

"…A-are you alright?" she asked nervously. She might have been a slayer, but she was no medic.

"I'm better," he managed breathlessly, "I've been worse."

"Okay, I don't wanna know what's that like."

"You're the Slayer," Francis Doy-ahh quickly issued quietly.

She frowned. Then he sneezed, shocking the soul out of her with what she saw. "You're a demon!" Buffy exclaimed in alarm. The other demons looked at her, either in amusement or interest in the scene. "I thought you were human… You're a demon."

"Half-breed," he corrected. "Got a toffee?" She shook her head. He had green skin, and quills, sharp and deadly looking, that jutted out of his face. His eyes had turned completely bloodshot. His hands had also turned green. Then he shook his head violently, and all the demonic features she saw seemed to subside; the quills retracted into his face, his eye went back to turquoise, and his skin was a slightly tanned colour.

"…Bless… you." Buffy sat closer to the window.

"Thank you," he sniffed, then cleared his throat. "You don't hear those two words very often nowadays."

"What… What happened? During… the outburst," she asked.

He seemed a bit quieter. "Visions."

"Vis---"

"Shh…" he clapped a hand over her mouth, making her frown. After he removed it, he leaned in and beckoned her to come closer. "Premonitions. The Powers that Be gave these painful abilities to me…"

"Wait." Buffy moved away a bit. "What did you see?"

Francis leaned back. "Your almost immediate future."

"…Do it again," she held out her hand once more.

He shook his head and stared forward. "I can't."
"Why not? Do it again!" she said a bit louder. A purple skinned Rheyarc demon turned its long neck and looked at them curiously.

"Settle down, will you?" he looked around, a bit embarrassed. "Everyone will think we're doing something." She glared. "Hey, I can't, okay? It's the Powers that Be that control these visions. They're also very painful."

"What'd you see anyway?" she folded her arms, unimpressed.

"Men."

"Men?"

He shrugged. "And a bar."

"Bar?" Buffy rose an eyebrow in thought. "I'm going to work in a bar full of men."

"Maybe ," he shrugged again. "But I didn't see you in it."

"But you said that you saw my future."

"It was one man. Blond. Feeding… Vampire, I suspect. Then I saw a woman."

She huffed. "That's all? Gee, that's really useful, Francis."

"Doyle."

"Whatever." She realised her ultra-citchy attitude that took to Cordelia's . She shivered. "But thanks," she said sincerely, more gently.

"For what?"

"Taking my mind off things." She looked out the bus window and a sign that read 'One Mile to Sassy Los Angeles' conveniently passed by.

"It's no problem. Besides, even if you're the slayer," he discreetly belted out, "You're not the other legend that I've been looking for."

Buffy nodded, then looked out again, sorrow grossing her pretty features. She was thinking again. The dream she had, and Angel. The dreams were continuous, ever since that first night…
"Hey."

She looked to Francis. Or Doyle.

"Pregnant slayer is a big thing. It might change the fate of the world." Her face read "So What", and just like he deciphered it, he told her, "I think the Oracles might find you interesting."

"Oracles?" she echoed, cocking her head back a bit.
"Hard to explain. But if anytime you might like to see them, you can give me a call."
"Yeah," Buffy said unenthusiastically, "I'll call you by Wolf Whistle."

Doyle shook his head. "Sorry." Then he gave her a card.

Before she knew it, the bus had come to a definite halt. She was at the bus terminal. "Hey, who are you looking for anyway?" she asked, staring at the plain business card. No answer prompted her to look up, where he was gone, and the few demons in the bus started to alight. Maybe the other legend was the other slayer, risen after Kendra. Whoever she was, she'd better go back to Sunnydale and watch over the gang, because Buffy was starting to worry.

As soon as she had stepped down, the sudden smell of L.A. invaded her nostrils. It was so incredibly… Different. It smelled worse than Sunnydale, with pollution hanging thick in the air and bypassing cars expelling soot and black and white smoke. Despite the mean attitude this side of L.A. possessed, this slayer was ready to start living…

By finding a phone book first.