Notice: I do not own these characters, except for the ones that I make up.

Author's Note: Hello, everyone. It's nice to meet you, guys. Am I being too friendly? Fabulous. Well, anyway, I've been following this website for a while now and I love it. I sort of love it, anyway. I am going to let you guys know that I except all reviews but I do not except flames that have no explanation behind them. I toss those reviews into the garbage where they belong. I'm not trying to be mean but flames without explanation is kind of lame.

Summary: This takes place after season seven of Buffy. Buffy goes back to LA to find Angel and they soon reunite their love and end up in small town Cedar, Colorado with three daughters. This is a little AU because Connor never came to be (he's a very bad boy), Spike and Anya are alive, and well, I think that is it.

CHAPTER 3

          Later that evening, Chelsea and Vanessa sat at the kitchen table with Angel who held a small cup of coffee in his hand. He and Buffy had both taken a strange liking to drink. Chelsea had a couple of books in front of her, straining over a homework assignment. Vanessa had two thoughts going on inside of her head. One was her desire to play yet another vampire game and the second was the threat Angel had given her over those exact games.

Chelsea groaned, scribbling away at something that she had written down in her notebook with the eraser end of her pencil. "Who was the sodding idiot that invented algebra?" she grumbled, sounding very British.

"The same sodding idiot that invented curfews," Angel spoke up.

Buffy glanced at the wall clock for the fourth time that night, a worried look on her face. "OK. This is getting annoying. Where is Stacey?"

"She'll be home," Angel assured her, trying to cover his own worry.

"You said that twenty minutes ago," Buffy reminded him, going over to the boiling pot that was on the stove. "The whole call if you're going to be late for dinner thing should really apply here."

"She'll be here," Angel said again more firmly.

Chelsea groaned again and threw her pencil down. "This whole studying crap is really getting to me." She looked back at Buffy. "I think I'm going to skip dinner to study. If I don't pass this test then I'm pretty sure I won't be allowed in high school therefore I'll never graduate, get married, have children, and be able to let you guys brag to your friends in the park about what a genius your middle daughter is."

"Chelsea," Angel cut into her rant, making the blonde girl look at him. "Just go."

Chelsea smiled at him, gathered her books, and slipped out of the room.

"When do we eat?" Vanessa moaned.

"We're trying to wait on Stacey," Buffy replied.

Vanessa pouted, resting her head on her little fist. "Can I cook my own dinner? I can use the stove." Angel simply raised an eyebrow at her and Vanessa quieted down quickly.

          Upstairs Chelsea tossed her books onto her bed and made her way to the closet. After she had picked herself out an outfit she put thick curls into her hair. When Chelsea was finished getting dressed she looked herself over in her vanity mirror, getting a good look at herself and what she wore: Nicely curled blonde hair, a black mini skirt, and a sparkly, gold halter top.

          After getting a good look at herself Chelsea grabbed a purse and slipped into Stacey's room, which was the room with the great climbing tree outside the window. Chelsea made her way down the tree, momentarily dreading that her skirt was so short, and ran off down the block.

          About an hour later Buffy, Angel, and Vanessa all sat around the kitchen table, eating their spaghetti and pork chops silently.

"I still can't believe she didn't call," Buffy grumbled silently, rolling a meatball on her plate with a fork.

"She still could," Angel pointed out, still defending Stacey.

Buffy just sighed and kept playing with her meatball.

          Down at the Hot Spot, the local night club, Chelsea had met up with a couple of her friends. The blonde teenager sat at the back of the club where bean bag chairs could be found. She and Danny Fetcher, one of the boys from her eight grade class, chaired one of the bean chair. Chelsea was lost in the boy's dark green eyes, which went just right with his dark hair. Chelsea had been wanting to go out with him all year and she had finally decided to make her move that night.

"So how's your mom handling the divorce?" Chelsea asked him, going into their third conversation that night.

"She's OK I guess," Danny replied in his low Italian voice that Chelsea just adored.

"Are you, though?"

Danny shrugged and moved around on the bean bag. "I'm cool. In fact I'm sorta glad they finally got divorced. Now I don't have to wake up in the middle of the night to listen to them fight."

"It still must be tough," Chelsea said, compassion in her voice. "Or is this just the whole macho attitude thing that I hear so much about?"

"Probably," Danny smiled at her. He looked her over. "I forgot to tell you earlier. You look really beautiful tonight."

Chelsea smiled bashfully as she thanked him. Respect from an extremely cute boy was worth its weight in gold. Before Chelsea could say anything about the way he was dressed their friend, Brenda, wondered over to them, some type of drink in her hand.

"Hey, Chelsea," Brenda said, kneeling down to the bean bag, which was hard as her jeans were tight. "Some cute guy is looking at you."

"What cute guy?" Chelsea and Danny asked simultaneously, Danny a little angry and Chelsea curious.

Brenda pointed towards the stage and Chelsea saw Lorne, which made her eyes immediately go wide. "Cute guy?" she nearly exclaimed. "That's my uncle, Lorne."

Brenda sipped her drink. "Well, he's cute from where I'm standing."

Danny shrugged and kept his eyes on Lorne. "He's OK. If you go for that muscle bound, sweet smile thing."

Chelsea couldn't believe either of them and look from one to the other. "What is wrong with you guys?" She pointed at Brenda's drink. "What's in that exactly?"

Lorne made his way over to Chelsea's small group, much to the blonde's dismay. "Hey, C girl," the green man greeted.

"Uh, hi," Chelsea forced a smile at him, trying to tug her skirt down.

"Hi," Brenda smiled at Lorne in a fawning teenage girl sort of way that made Chelsea roll her eyes.

"Can we concur for one little teeny minute?" Lorne asked Chelsea, pulling her aside before she could answer.

"It's not what it looks like," Chelsea began.

"Not what it looks like?" Lorne echoed, his voice trying to remain nonchalant. "It looks like you're at this club on a school night, dressed like that, and..." Lorne sniffed the air a little. "Don't tell me you've been drinking."

"No!" Chelsea practically shouted. "That's that crap Brenda drinks. I'm not into that."

"Well, that's one good thing," the green demon said, folding his arms. "Not that it saves you."

"What makes you think I don't have permission to be here?" Chelsea asked him cooly, putting a hand to her hip.

"Because it took your dad like ten years to let you go trick or treating by yourself in this itty bitty town."

"Oh..." Chelsea's hand slipped off her hip. "Well, I just needed a break is all." She looked him in the eye, giving him her best Buffy like pout. "You don't have to tell anyone, namely my parents, do you?"

Lorne sighed, giving into her adorable look. "I'm watching you, missy," he warned, waving a finger in her face.

Chelsea gave him a very grateful smile before rejoining her friends.

          The night was dark yet moonlit as Stacey walked along the side of the road that stood next to the woods. Her red hair flapped like wings against the night air, a slight chill running through her despite the jacket she wore. Stacey finally stopped at a tree stump and took a seat, pulling a carton of cigarettes from her jacket pocket. She lit one of the tobacco sticks and started to put it in her mouth.

"How's it hanging, chit?" Stacey, startled, looked over to see Spike leaning against a tree in the woods, looking directly at her. "Cancer could look really good on you."

Stacey half smiled as she took the cigarette away from her mouth. "Hello, dear Uncle Spike." She looked at him. "It's not what you think. I'm not addicted to the stuff or anything."

"Doesn't matter." Spike held out his hand to her and Stacey grudgingly gave him her cigarettes. "You're still just a little nip and these things could bloody well kill you. Plus let's not forget the millions of ways your dear ol' dad would have to punish you."

"Doesn't really matter," Stacey shrugged, glancing down at her boot cut jeans. "Nothing matters anymore."

"Don't be such a drama mama," Spike said, slipping a cigarette out of the carton and lighting it.

"Hey, hypocrite much?" Stacey said to him.

"Nope. Because unlike you I won't be bloody dead meat if I get caught with these." The vampire stuck the cigarette into his mouth and puffed on it a little. "Then there is the whole I don't breath so asthma means a whole lot of nothing to me."

Stacey stuck her hands into the pockets of her jacket and hid a tiny smile. "Yeah..."

"So..." Spike blew smoke from his mouth as he spoke. "What do you think you're doing out here all alone at night? Any member of my kind would be more than willing to jump out of these trees and enjoy having a walking happy meal all to himself."

"I could use a happy meal." Stacey pulled her right foot up and played with the laces of her boot. "I know I missed dinner."

Spike knew that she would just avoid his questions so he decided not to push her too far. "How about I take you home? Like now?"

Stacey glanced over at his eyes as she said, "I'm thinking I don't have a choice in the matter."

"Good guess," Spike smirked.

Second Author's Note: I hope you guys liked this chapter. I should mention that I'm a total fluffer as you can guess from my name and profile so the main reason I'm doing this story is for that reason, fluff. Why? That's the way I write, simple. Now could you press that little button down below so I feel the need to update? Thanks.