Chapter Five

'You have fornicated with my pet and impregnated him.'

Angel sighed wearily looking up from the paperwork covering his office desk, 'Yes Illyria, can I help you with anything?'

Illyria stood in the doorway and cocked her head. 'I wish to examine you both to understand how two half-breed males could copulate and produce young.'

'What?'

Spike looked up from the couch where he was productively hitting buttons and making a screen beep a lot. 'Apparently she wants to watch us go at it, see how I got preggers.'

'Not helping, Spike.'

Spike ignored Angel and turned his attention to Illyria. 'Anyway love, wasn't us as such that managed it, wizard did it. Turn my bits inside out and as they say, Mr Storks then making a delivery. Though I've got to say that the delivery was pretty damn quick.'

Angel ignored the provocation and stared at his paperwork some more. His delivery service was just fine, dammit.

'You annoyed a keeper of the realm of magic and now life grows within you. In my day magic was but as inconsequential as a shimmer of sunlight on a glacier. We shook it off as if drops of rain and crushed those that might use it against us under our feet.'

'Oh hey, I'm all for crushing in this instance Blue, but as you can see', Spike ran a hand over his distended stomach, 'Magic not so insubstantial now.'

'And this magic created lust for each other? Made you desire each others forms and wish to consummate?'

Angel grimaced in annoyance. 'Illyria, as fun as this discussion is I think there is a fern out in the lobby that wants to chat.'

'You attempt to dismiss me half-breed merely because you squirm, like a worm consumed by its own futility. I go because I desire it and because that particular green has much to tell me.' Illyria paused as she went to leave. 'I approve of your joining.' With that she stalked off, a bee line for one of the planters further down the hallway.

'Well how about that, Illyria herself approves', Angel with sarcasm in his voice.

'Not only that,' Spike piped up from his game, 'apparently the fern in the lobby is right old gossip. Might go out there later with pruning sheers; see what I can get out of it.'