Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Angel or Buffy characters. They all belong to Joss Whedon.

London, England, April 5th, 2018

"Jake, Haley, time for dinner," Fred yelled up the stairs, hoping the kids wouldn't get in another fight before they reached the bottom.

Walking into the kitchen, Wesley smiled to her, his migraine finally subsided, then placed a quick peck on her cheek, "maybe after dinner, I could get some dessert," he whispered.

"If you play your cards right," his wife responded, giving him a small kiss on the lips, and smacking his rear with a dish towel.

"Urgh! Can you keep the public displays of affection to a minimum," Jake asked, sitting down at the table next to his sister.

"Yeah, I know! I caught them making out in the study earlier," Haley piped in.

Rolling his eyes, Wesley was thankful they were just getting along at the moment. "We really should have thought about that couple's offer to adopt our twins," he said aloud, placing the casserole Fred had made on the table.

Looking at him, then the twins, Fred borrowed one of Jake's famous mischievous grins, "I wonder if they'd still take them."

Sitting at the table, Wesley shook his head, "I think it was a one time only deal."

"Ha-ha, very funny," Jake smiled, "but what would you do if we weren't here to make your dull lives interesting."

"They'd probably sit around wishing they had children as wonderful as us," Haley grinned, helping herself to the casserole.

Scoffing, Wesley rested his elbow on the table and shook his head, "is that what you think we did before we had you?"

Both children nodded, making their parents laugh.

"You're father and I had quite the exciting lives before you two came along," Fred said, sharing a knowing look with Wesley.

"Yeah, well, what'd you do? Watch paint dry," Jake asked with his mouth full.

"No, we fought vampires and demons," Fred said, smiling.

Exchanging a glance, both children began cracking up, "yeah, sure! Are you positive you weren't insane before you had us?"

Laughing it off, Wesley raised his eyebrows to Fred, who took a sip of her wine, and stared right back. "It's t. . .," she began, but her husband cut her off.

"They're thirteen, Fred, too old for us to fool with those stories anymore," Wesley said, nudging her foot with his own under the table.

Feeling uncomfortable with the scene, Jake glanced from one parent to the other, "yeah, we're too old to be fooled by that kind of crap. Maybe you should try Hope."

"God. I wonder what they'll be trying to get us to believe next," Haley chimed in, amused.

Laughing it off, Wesley traded another glance with his wife, which she returned with a glare, letting him know that 'dessert' was no longer on the menu.

Sighing as he padded down the stairs in his pajamas, laundry basket in arms, Jake couldn't stop thinking about the tension at dinner. Maybe his parents were just having a rift. They never fought openly in front of the kids though, that is, when they fought. The two were perfect for one another.

Of course, could they being acting like things were perfect to cover something else up? Surely they weren't close to a divorce. Jim from school thought his parents were perfect, too until they got announced their split. Maybe he should start paying closer attention.

Getting ready to push the kitchen door open, the boy stopped at the sound of muffled voices from the other side.

"I just. . .I don't know, I'm thinking. . .maybe it'd be better for them to know," he heard his mother say, then the sound of a dish slipping into the water.

"After all these years? Do you know how absurd it would sound," his father said in a slightly louder whisper, and then continued, "besides it was you who said you didn't want our children to know."

"I know," his mother said, "but I was pregnant! I was thinking about them as babies, and how scary it would all be for them, but the twins are thirteen, and Hope isn't far behind, and now I'm thinking of them as teenagers and adults, and I just want them to be prepared!"

Sighing, Wesley leaned against the counter, and scratched his head. "I don't know. Maybe the older two could know. We could sit them down. We could. . .," he was cut off as the phone rang, making Jacob jump.

Realizing it was behind him, he quickly ran up the stairs and out of sight as his dad came out of the kitchen, and picked up the telephone, "hello?"

Deciding to act casual, Jake came back down the stairs, passing his father on the telephone as he went, and trying to get snippets of the conversation.

"Good Lord, Lorne," Wesley asked his old friend, grabbing Jake's arm as he passed to get his attention, strangely making his son jump.

Giving him an odd look, Wesley pointed to the laundry basket he had left by the kitchen door, and rolled his eyes. He hated when one of the kids left their stuff lying around. Going back to the conversation, all thoughts of Jake and his misplaced laundry basket fled his mind.

"We need to come to L.A.," he asked, surprised, "the bottle? Lorne, you're not making any sense!"

Taking a deep breathe, Lorne calmed down and began to explain everything, starting with the night they had performed the spell to return Cordelia's memory. Wesley listened, intently, and held didn't interrupt until the very end.

"So, now you need us in L.A.? After fifteen years? Lorne, we have. . .," suddenly aware of the fact that Jake hadn't moved at all, but was rather still standing five feet away from him, staring intently at his father, and trying to eavesdrop on the conversation, Wesley pointed at the kitchen door, sternly.

Rolling his eyes, the boy picked up his laundry basket and went into the kitchen, where his mother was finishing the dishes alone. "Hey, sweetie, who's your dad talking to," she asked, wiping the final dish dry.

"I dunno. Some guy named Lorne. He keeps going on about L.A.," the boy said, carrying his laundry into the room adjacent to the kitchen. Throwing the dishtowel down, Fred went into the hallway where Wesley was wrapping up his conversation with Lorne, and hanging up the phone.

"What's going on," she asked, "Jake said you were talking to Lorne."

Nodding, Wesley made a mental note to talk to Jake about eavesdropping later. "Yeah, it's pretty serious," he said, "we have to go to L.A. . . ."

"L.A.," Haley squealed from the top of the stairs, making both her parents jump. "When are we going," she continued, making her way downstairs.

"We. . .," Fred began, but Jake cut her off as he came out of the kitchen, "what's going on?"

Rolling his eyes, Wesley took his wife's hand, and let her toward the study, where he shut and locked the door, explaining everything Lorne had just told him to her. At the end of it all, they both agreed, they had to get to Los Angeles fast.

Opening the door to the study, Fred had to avoid the two teens that fell in. "We were. . .uh. . .," Jake began, trying to think of a good reason he'd have his ear against the door, but couldn't. "So, are we going to L.A.," he gave up and asked.

"Yes, go pack your things," Wesley said coming from behind his wife, no hint of a smile on his face, just seriousness. Scrambling up the stairs both children laughed and high-fived.

Watching, Wesley and Fred exchanged a knowing glance. The kids had no idea how serious this visit was.

"I think we should tell them, in L.A.," Fred said, "all of them."

"It's times like this I almost wish we hadn't dragged kids into this world," he replied.

"Yeah, I know! You are definitely not getting laid tonight," Fred said, climbing the stairs to their bedroom so she could go pack for the trip.

"The last time an apocalypse threatened I got laid," Wesley said to himself, following her up the stairs.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Next chapter, landing in L.A. and the spell. I think the kids are in for a little more than sun and sand. What do you think? Please review!