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Buffy stood on the balcony overlooking the sea, caressing her large pregnant belly. She raised her head; eyes closed and felt the early morning breeze wash over her skin. Her pregnancy hadn't put a damper on her Slayer skills and she sensed someone coming up behind her. She went on alert and relaxed only when she felt Angel wrap his arms around her and rest his hands on top of hers on her belly.

"I still don't know why you don't want to name her Anne" he said, his breath slide over the back of her neck and she shivered in pleasure.

"Because the only time I've ever seen the name Anne was in some history movie or on my headstone."

"Well, I like it" he said, pouting a little. Buffy smiled, even though he was over two hundred years old, her husband could still act like a stubborn child.

"Yes, but lets not forget, you also like Bernice and Gertrude."

"So?" Buffy laid her hand against Angel's cheek.

"Oh, you poor dear." Despite his faults, her husband was, after all, only human. She could feel one of the sharp, strong kicks that had been peppering her stomach for months now, and it instilled in her a deep feeling of love and perfect happiness.

"I love you" she whispered, "I know it sounds stupid after all we've been through, but I do."

"I love you too and it's not stupid, the truth is never stupid." Buffy smiled but her smile quickly turned into a grimace, the pain in her belly was suddenly almost unbearable. Angel, behind her, noticed the change in her demeanor.

"Buffy, what's wrong?" His concern for her was palpable, washing over her like a wave. She turned to face her husband, tears of joy and pain in her eyes.

"Angel, I think I'm in labor"

2

Buffy woke up in her bed, sweat coursing down her body, fear visible in every line of her face. She ran a hand down her smooth, toned and decidedly non-pregnant stomach. Drawing her knees up to her chest, the Slayer rested her head against them, attempting to clear her mind of her dream. 'It's not real' she told herself, 'It's just a dream'. But still she couldn't shake the feeling of deja-vu that surrounded her, choking her like a shroud. Being a Slayer, Buffy was connected to powerful visions and dreams. Not all of her dreams were prophetic, but those that were usually carried the same air as the dream she had just had. Keeping her legs still tightly curled against her chest, in the fetal position, Buffy lay back down. Before her head hit the pillow though, she knew there was only one way to solve her puzzled mind, she had to go to L.A, to Angel.