I do not, repeat, do not own the characters from either Angel or Buffy. Rose and the twins are mine, the occasional villain and demon. The rest, heavy sigh, belong to the great and powerful Joss.

Unforgettable

These Our Players

"Mummy doesn't do it that way."

Spike sighed and leaned his head against the wall. If he had a nickel for every time he'd heard that phrase this past week, he reflected, he could probably buy the whole bloody building, complete with employees. God, he missed Rose. This past week had seemed like an eternity. He vowed then and there that he wasn't having any more of these little jaunts. He didn't care that it was business related, or who broke what. He was going to put his foot down. The man of the house. From now on, Rose was going to stay where she belonged. He had lost track of what he was doing though, as he let his thoughts wander. Ariel reminded him.

"Daddy, the oatmeal's boiling over." She smiled sweetly at him, but Spike could swear that he could detect a slight hint of malice in his daughter's expression as well. "Mummy turns the heat down when it starts bubbling. Then, it doesn't boil over."

Spike looked helplessly to his son, for what, he wasn't sure. Maybe just a little moral support.

Alaric sat back in his chair and smirked at his father. And for the first time, Spike understood just why so many people wanted to hit him.

&&&&&&

"Please stop fussing, Fred," Wesley begged. "I broke my leg, not my head."

"No," Fred replied. "I think you broke your head first." She went over to the sofa where Wes was ensconced, cast and all, and snuggled herself carefully onto his lap. "Honey, you're just going to have to admit one of these days that you're not as young as you used to be, and you just can't keep up with Angel and Spike."

"And Val," Wesley reminded her, just a little bitterly. "Let's not forget any of the forever young brigade." He put his arms around her, more out of reflex than anything.

Fred pulled a pout. "I thought you said that you wanted to 'grow old along with me'," she said. "Did you change your mind when I wasn't looking?"

"No, of course not, darling," Wes replied, a little shamefaced. He kissed her cheek, and was moving to work his way to her mouth when she turned to look him in the eye.

"Then stop going on demon hunts with Spike," she snapped. "And stay in research where you belong."

&&&&&&&&

Rose looked out the airplane window, longing for the moment when the plane would land and she could set her dainty feet back on the pavement of L.A. The Watcher's conference had been very interesting, for the most part, and Giles had gone out of his way to make sure that she felt welcome. But she missed Spike and the children so much. A week was simply too long to spend away from them all. When she got back, she thought, she'd give Wesley another lecture on just how stupid he'd been to break his leg, thereby forcing her to take his place. Never again, she silently vowed. Interesting though the trip had been, from now on, she intended to stay at home with the people she loved.

&&&&&&&

Richard McDaniels spared a glance at his seat mate. Distractingly pretty, obviously not the least bit nervous about flying, but for the several hours that had comprised their trip, he hadn't been able to get anything out of her other than the briefest of replies to his questions.

He frowned. He didn't usually have this much trouble making an impression. He decided to give it one last try.

"Anxious to get home?" Richard waited several seconds to allow the information to sink in to, Rose, he had at least learned her name.

Rose turned towards him and gave him a nearly natural smile. "Very much so," she replied. "I've been away a whole week."

"A whole week?" Richard echoed teasingly. "That's almost long enough to notice that you've been gone."

"I've never been away from my husband and children for so long." Rose's dimples appeared, but her eyes flicked back towards the window, as though afraid that if she didn't keep a sharp lookout, they'd never reach their destination.

Richard had difficulty concealing his shock. "Married, I can believe, just," he finally managed to say. "But children? Plural?"

"They are twins," Rose answered, but then gave the knife another twist. "They've just turned seven."

Richard's jaw fell open, and he completely forgot tact and spoke his mind. "How old were you when they were born? Twelve?"

Rose smiled weakly. Her not aging kept her in step with Spike, but not with the majority of the populace. Most of the time it didn't occur to her, since she worked among people who knew and didn't particularly boggle at it. Now, she was beginning to see that out in the 'real' world, it could create certain problems too.

&&&&&&&

"You're sure you don't want to take the day off?" Angel asked as Spike methodically beat him back with a series of lightning quick strikes of his staff. Spike had been mopping the floor with him all week, and Angel felt that he could use a respite.

"She don't get home till late tonight," Spike replied, not bothering to explain who 'she' was. Angel knew. "I don't much fancy hanging round the place till I have to. 'Sides, Oz said something about giving the kids exams today."

Angel's interest picked up. He was always ready to hear news about his godchildren. "What grade?" he asked curiously. Aside from being telepathic, the twins were so incredibly intelligent that it came as a shock to some people when they actually acted like kids.

Spike shrugged, but didn't let it slow down his relentless attack. "Only the fourth," he answered. "Oz said something about not wanting to bring them along too fast. Some muck about keeping them from being too far ahead of their age group when they do go to school. Don't much see the use of them going to school anyway."

Angel sighed, but didn't let it stop him from dodging a blow from the staff. "Spike, I know you've heard it from Rose," he commented. "And probably from everyone else as well. They do need to go to school. They need to learn to relate to kids their own age. How to get along with people who don't work at Wolfram and Hart."

"And I am bloody well sick of people telling me how to raise my kids," Spike snapped. "Can't see that they need all that crap anyway. They do have destiny working for them."

"That doesn't mean that you shouldn't be doing everything in your power to prepare them to deal with it," Angel pressed, making a careful, strategic retreat. On the practice room floor, not the argument. "The prophecy is just there to tell them who they are and what they're supposed to do. They didn't come pre-programmed. They have to learn. And the best place for them is in school."

"Maybe," Spike almost conceded. "But not just yet. I want them old enough to be able to defend themselves against..,"

"Their teachers? Their classmates?" Angel supplied. "Spike, people send kids younger than Alaric and Ariel to school every day, with nothing happening to them. And since you brought it up when Rose was drinking blood, do you think The Powers would let anything happen to the instruments of their own prophecy?"

Spike, in a fury over having his own arguments turned against him answered with a new volley of attacks, until Angel was driven across the room and into a position that his only option was to yield. Or, find a way to distract Spike.

"Want me to take the kids tomorrow so you can be alone with Rose?" he offered.

Spike hesitated. And barely evaded Angel's counterstrike.

"Well?" Angel prompted. He kept pressing, even though he hadn't gained the advantage, just a brief reprieve. But he would be happy to take the kids anytime.

"Could you make it Sunday?" Spike asked. It was obvious that it was a difficult decision for him to make. "I'd love to have her to myself right as soon as she got home, but it wouldn't be fair to the kids. They've missed her too."

"Sunday it is," Angel agreed. He took another swing which Spike ducked, then just barely dodged Spike's next attack. The whole week he'd been fighting like he'd meant it. "I'll be glad when Rose gets back."

&&&&&&&

A freak breeze parted the smog for a moment, and Rose's eyes misted over. "I can see home," she murmured, half to herself.

"Where's home?" Richard asked politely. He'd made zero progress, and he was more than somewhat put out, even given Rose's marital status. She not only was attractive, but he felt that she had the potential to be the perfect show wife. Just the sort of window dressing an up and rising young political hopeful could use.

"Over there." Rose pointed, and Richard leaned over across her, following the direction her finger was pointing and squinting his eyes.

"All I see is the Wolfram and Hart building," he muttered. "Are you sure that you're pointing in the right direction?"

"That's where I live," Rose replied. "In the Wolfram and Hart building." She saw him look at her with a question in his eyes and before he could ask, just said, "It's a long story."

&&&&&&

The flight attendant had stopped at the seat in front of Richard and Rose. "I'm sorry sir," she said quietly. "But you really do need to turn off your laptop."

"I'm busy," the man muttered, without looking up from his computer screen.

"Sir," the flight attendant said with a sigh. "Your computer could interfere with the operation of the plane's computers. Regulations state that it has to be turned off."

"Get out of my face before I sue the company," the oaf growled.

The flight attendant gave up for the moment, but returned shortly with the co-pilot.

There followed a heated argument, a brief tussle, and just when it seemed as though the co-pilot was about to prevail, the creep gave his property an extra vicious jerk and yanked it out of the co-pilot's hands. He had too much momentum going, however, and the laptop continued on its current trajectory. Over the back of the seat to wallop Rose soundly on the head.

&&&&&&&

Spike fumed, and almost literally had to bite his tongue to keep from swearing out loud in front of the children. What with trying to get things cleaned up after the near disaster dinner had been (disaster in this case would have been having to call the fire department), they were already running late to get to the airport to pick up Rose. Then, once he'd hit the road, thinking to make up for lost time, wouldn't you just know that he had to get caught waiting because of a fifteen car pile up?

Sodding L.A.

&&&&&&&&

She tried to sit up, but a gentle pair of hands held her down.

"Just take it easy for a few," a masculine voice advised her. She turned her head to see close-cropped light brown curls, eyes so light brown that they were nearly amber, and tanned, rugged good looks. "You took quite a shot to the head there."

"I did?" She raised a hand to her head and felt a large bump. And pulled her hand back quickly, because it was still quite tender. "Ow, I guess I did." She looked up at him quizzically. "Who are you?"

"Richard McDaniels," he replied, puzzled. He knew he'd told her his name. "Don't you remember?"

She started to shake her head, then stopped abruptly, because it hurt. Another questioning look. "Who am I?"

Richard's eyes nearly popped out of his head, but he kept his cool and thought fast. "Why, you're my wife, Lily."

&&&&&&&

Spike checked the time. Damn! They were over an hour and a half late. What must Rose be thinking?

"I don't see mummy anywhere," Alaric informed him.

"It's a big airport," Spike said evenly. He was trying to reign it in, but he'd have thought that Rose would be pacing near the exit, waiting for them.

"Me too, daddy," Ariel murmured, slipping her hand in his, replying to what he had not spoken. "I can't find her anywhere either."

Spike looked down at his daughter and realized that she wasn't referring to a visual search. "Nowhere in the airport?" he asked slowly, trying to stem the tide of horrible images that began racing through his mind.

"No." Alaric shook his head. "We'd know mummy's mind anywhere, no matter how many people are around."

"She's not here, daddy," Ariel confirmed. "Where do you think mummy has gone?"

Spike sat down in the nearest seat and buried his face in his hands for a moment. He didn't want to do it, he really did not want to do this. But he couldn't think of any way out of it. He pulled out a cell phone, Rose's, as it happened, and reluctantly began dialing Angel's number.

&&&&&&&&

Richard opened the door to his condo. "Here we are, sweetie. Home at last."

She looked around curiously. "How come I don't remember this?" The place looked positively alien to her. Surely she'd recognize her own home. Wouldn't she?

Richard came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "You haven't been here before, Lily," he informed her. "We met in England, and married there. This is my home in L.A. You've never been here before. We've just gotten here after our honeymoon."

She had already preceded him into the bedroom and opened a closet door. "Is that why there are only your clothes here?"

He closed the closet doors. "Your things got lost in shipping," he lied smoothly. "But not to worry, Lily, darling. I'll buy you a whole new wardrobe. Consider it a wedding present from your loving husband."

She turned a smile on him. "You're so good to me, Richard."