Ok, here's the end of Part 1--but don't worry, there's the sequel coming up very soon. Please read and respond, I'd like to know if there's anybody else in cyberspace who likes to read my fucked up shit lmao.

It was decided that they would separate the next day, the young fanatics having done what their association set out to do, namely save Baby Firefly, would settle someplace far away with different names. Ellen and Lowell would try for the Mexican border. Thankfully being the nerd he was Lance lived alone. The girls were given the amall spare bedroom and everyone else slept on the couch, sofa and floor. The blonde still had things to say to Lance, and knocked softly on his bedroom door. He opened it, wearing only pajama bottoms. He looked different without his thick glasses, his cheekbones were more evident as was his bright blue eyes. Searching her face a few moments he said, "You seem different...you're not Ellen, are you?"

"Tell you the truth, I don't know who I am. Can I come in?"

He stepped aside and let her in. She was wearing some of his old clothes which didn't fit her all that well, but she would've looked good in a cardboard box, he thought. "I uh..well I'm kinda attached to Ellen."

She giggled, a high-pitched childish giggle. "I know. You ain't got nothing to fear, she's much too practical to let me do anything stupid or careless." Lance thought it extremely peculiar for her to refer to herself in the third person. "I never thanked you for your help," she said softly, and he could feel Ellen more in her person.

"How did you find my house?"

"You left me your business card that first time we met. I kept it because I thought you were cute. Silly, huh," she snickered.

"No," he replied, scratching his brown-haired head. "I'm glad you did."

"I, uh, I'm very sorry about Otis," Lance says. "But it was very dangerous for you coming here."

"Well, I had to say goodby before I left," she smiles. "You've done so much for me."

The reporter observes her for a minute or so, finally saying, "You remember everything as Ellen?"

"O' course I do," the blonde answers. "I have all my memory back," she murmurs, a faraway look in her eye as she remembered. Then she begins unbuttoning the flannel shirt he'd let her borrow.

Lance's deep blue eyes grow wide as she lets the shirt fall to the floor. Then she casually steps out of the old pants that were also his. "What do you I call you, then," he wonders, taking in her tall, lean feminine form. Many scars marked her all over, a roadmap of the tribulations and struggles she'd been through and lived. It still didn't detract from the effect her underwear-clad body had on him.

"Why don't you think of a name for me," she purrs, sliding her strong arms around his neck. His finely made hands roam down her back to her bottom, now only covered by her skimpy panties. "I know," he says, oddly inspired. "How about Angel? Or Angela?"

"I like tht," she says softly, kissing him and leaving the man breathless.

"God, what are you," he moans a she starts relieving him of his clothes. She laughs.

"Don't be scared--Baby likes you too." Angela's bra goes flying.

Ellen loosened the reigns on Baby somewhat, who wasted no time getting down to business. It had been a very long time since she'd had sex, and she seemed to make up for it that night. She knew exactly how to ride him; she raised up oh so slowly starting out and the right angle, then impale herself on his engorged organ. He didn't know a woman could move her hips like that, she did things to him that blew his mind. When she was riding him the first time he climaxed hard and fast, then she took her time with him. She dug her nails in his shoulders as she came with him the second time...

...Then he fucked her on top, in the floor, on the bed again and in the small bathroom adjacent to his bedroom. He was wrung out and spent after that, sure his testicles were going to shrivel up. Lance fell asleep where he fell in the bed with her blonde head on his chest, both nude. Angela dozed for a while, then slipped to the bathroom to clean herself up, and went in search of Dr. Lowell. He'd made a nest of blankets on the floor.

She slipped under the warm coziness, snuggling into the doctor's body heat. Baby's habits were manifesting themselves; after fucking/torturing her usual prey she would bed down with her foster-sibling Otis. It made her feel safe.

At daybreak Baby's internal clock woke Angela up, smacking her lips. Lowell stirred and raised an eyebrow at the scantily clad woman curled up next to him. "Otis, what time is it," she yawns, scratching her tousled head.

"It's still darkthirty," he quips.

"We'd best go," she urges, crawling out from under the covers.

Lance awoke sore and drained the next morning and rolled over, felt nothing but bedding and opened his eyes. Angela wasn't there. Throwing on some pants he trudges through the house, she was gone, along with everyone else. "Dammit, Ellen," he grumbles out loud. He wanted to tell her good bye and good luck. Well, last night was Baby's way of saying good bye, he thought. It was a night he'd never forget.

Then new hybrid entity known as Angela wouldn't either.

Two months later...

Angela awoke to the alarm clock buzzing, slammed it off and sat up in bed, smacking her lips. She felt fatigued, but not bad. She'd been feeling rather worn-out of late. The young woman limped her way to the kitchen in her and Freddy's simple abode to find her companion already up and sipping coffee. "Legs giving you much pain," he asks her idly, trying not to make an issue of it.

"Sometimes," she says sleepily. He'd been getting her pain pills to help but she didn't like taking them. They'd both settled into a semi-normal life in Mexico, and Angela had surprised the psychiatrist since as Ellen she'd learned Spanish under his nose from the nurse, Maria and fit right in. Well, as good as a white woman could under the circumstances. Angela worked in a deli and Lowell had gotten employment at a pharmacy. He didn't mind that sometimes Baby manifested strongly and at times called him Otis. He was still surprised that her psyche was still holding together, but somehow she was making it all work.

"Here, have some toast," he offers.

"Ugh, I'm not really hungry," she turns up her nose.

"Angela, come here and let me look at you," he says, and brooks no refusal. She shuffles to him.

He looks her over very intently, laying a hand on her stomach, then cupping a breast which was more full and tender. "Hey," she squawks. Aside from being tired she looked radiant and content.

"You're pregnant, doll," he tells her.

"What!"

"How long has it been since you had a period?"

"Uhh..a couple months," she says. She'd written it off as stress and nerves. What the fuck was she gonna do with a baby?

"I know it ain't mine," declares Freddy, who'd begun reflecting Angela's hillbilly accent. "It's that reporter's, isn't it?"

Ellen was very happy at the prospect...another Firefly at last. At least they wouldn't all die out. Baby was fearful of the responsibility and the loss of freedom. Angela would have to mediate the twain...Freddy wondered how this new situation would play out.