g120- Yay your back. Hehe. By 'back to the plotline' I did mean my own plot. haha, but thanks, I appreciate what you said. It gave me a happy, but so much as 'I'm in continued awe at this creation'. That really inflated my ego to dangerous proportions. I think it was the word 'awe'. Made me go all crazy. Thank you for the review

Rabdireject- Thanks for review and nice use of 'another'. Makes it seem as though awesomeness just flows out of me like some awesome...glowworm...thing. I'm not that good with spontaneous similies, but the sentiments there.

Zigpal- Yay- my dosage of clapping hands. Mundo appreciation. Glad you liked the Fred/Joyce talk. I was really nervy about writing Fred atch- I absolutely love her to bits, but she's such a hard character to write; she has so many goddamn layers- so I'm glad you thought I did her justice. And the vision is kinda important to them...but not directly. ;-)

A/N: Took me a bit longer than usual to update this time, but that was unfortunately due to the plot bunny that was my Spoyce one shot Outrageous Affair (Go on read it. You know you wanna. Okay...pimpage over). It's all Kristine [Sutherland's fault. I came across an interview with her the other day while channel surfing since it was raining (pfft) and I was locked inside. And she just had such clever and witty responses that one such just inspired a little Spike/Joyce action.

But I'm back to my Cocorific baby now. It's terrible- I actually have this planned to way post- Chosen. You'll never get rid of me.

Ethan Rayne wasn't the most trouble-free of people. In fact, if he was honest, he pretty much reveled in it, particularly when he was the one causing it. Trouble with Cal Johnson, however, wasn't the kind of trouble he was particularly fond of.

Cal had come to him a couple of weeks ago, when he'd been 'vacating' in Boston. Cal had heard about him and wanted to ask for a spell and, more importantly, would pay money for it. This both satisfied Ethan's ego and Ethan's greed so he had listened to what Cal wanted.

Cal owned a business that built low rent housing and he had a plot in mind for his newest estate. However, the plot still had owners; apparently it was the inherited property of a family of Native Americans. Cal had gone through all the legal rigmarole to find he had no rights. If the family didn't give up the land freely, there was nothing else Cal could do.

Except go to someone who could magick right past all the legal tape. And that someone just happened to be Ethan Rayne.

Of course, Ethan took the money first- pay up front, that was the deal- and did the spell later, never actually revealing the details of the spell. All Cal had asked was for the legal business of it all not to concern his own business anymore. If he lost his business then it would be of no concern wouldn't it?

Course, it hadn't taken Cal long after becoming bankrupt to realize Ethan was to blame. So Ethan had hightailed it out of Boston and ended up in Chicago where he had heard from some amateur sorcerers, but sorcerers nonetheless, about a particular little trinket that harbored a demon which had the power to grant a wish to whoever was holding the trinket at the time. This sounded just the thing to Ethan- wish the little bastard Cal off his back for good.

He had eventually traced to talisman to Los Angeles. Though how it ended up there, Ethan didn't really care, only that he found it. So, as he sat in his dingy L.A Hotel, Ethan scryed, praying to god he would find the talisman soon before it was on the move again and also before Cal caught up with him. Without a business to run, Cal had developed quite a one-track mind.

"Where?" Angel asked in a deadly serious tone as Giles and Joyce walked over to listen in on the conversation too. Cordelia was silently thankful that both had nightgowns wrapped around them.

"Where else? An Alley...two streets away from where Caritas is...was,"

"Hey," Gunn walked over to them, munching on a sandwich (clearly his breakfast for the day), with Wesley next to him, "Just got the vision call. What's the gig?"

"A demon, near Caritas," Angel informed them and as if out of nowhere Lorne appeared.

"My bar? Demons want to trash it more?"

"This place is more crowded than our house," Giles commented, taking note of the huge crowd that had gathered at the doorway.

"It's always a party in L.A," Lorne replied, "But I suggest we all move aside right now," He advised and the group frowned at him.

"Why?" Cordy asked.

"Because I think Gunn's sandwich there is going to make Joyce run for the bathroom in say three seconds," Lorne explained calmly and immediately everyone moved aside and sure enough, a split second later, Joyce rushed past them in the direction of the bathroom.

"Sorry!" Gunn called after her, before looking down at his sandwich guiltily.

"What's on it?" Fred asked, sniffing at the bread slightly as if trying to decipher what it was through the smell.

"Ham, onions and mayonnaise," Gunn replied, as though it were the most obvious sandwich in the world and he looked confused when everyone grimaced in disgust at the ingredients.

"Cordelia, what was the demon you saw, like?" Wesley asked.

"Dangerous. He was huge, Wes and definitely fangy and goo-y and...well, green" She told him, "Not something you'd wanna tangle with alone"

"Then we go in force then," Wesley decided and Gunn nodded in agreement as he took the final bite of his sandwich.

"Yeah, we'll bring it down together,"

"What about Connor?" Angel asked.

"Man, I know Dads want their sons to follow in the footsteps but he's a little young you know..." Gunn told him and Angel sighed patiently.

"No, I mean, someone has to stay here and look after him. We can't all go"

"Well, we need you to come with us Angel, if Cordelia's description is accurate," Wesley stated, making a note to, as soon as the Connor situation was sorted, research into what the demon could possibly be.

"Well, we're not driving home till later today," Joyce said, returning from the bathroom and looking so decidedly woozy from the Sandwich Effect that Rupert immediately walked over to support her, just in case she randomly chose to topple over- it wasn't likely, but you could never be too sure. "We could look after Connor, if you'd like"

At this offer, Giles let go of Joyce in shock, but hadn't realized she had actually been leaning on him, so when he let go she actually did waver slightly in a way that threatened to end with her falling over. Luckily though, she retained her balance a moment later.

"Joyce, I'm not sure..ah, perhaps Angel wouldn't be comfortable-" Giles began but Angel interrupted him.

"No, no...that's great. I mean if you're sure...? You weren't planning on leaving earlier"

"It'd be fine," Joyce assured him, "I was gonna take a look at the arts markets in the square but..."

"You can still do that," Angel told her, just thankful someone reliable could look after Connor while his Dad went off to 'slay the dragon', "But just make sure you take Connor with you..." He looked at Cordelia as he said this and the girl blushed.

"I did that once the other day, once!" She defended herself, "And that was only because I was still all preoccupied with the demon attacks from last week."

"Well, that's, uh, settled then," Wesley concluded, "I'll get on with researching the demon,"

"I'm on weapons," Gunn added, following Wesley with Fred shyly following the both of them.

"I guess I'm helping Wesley," Cordy rolled her eyes and as she walked off she felt another painful reminder of the vision as her headache returned. She changed her plans- she'd take some aspirin and then she'd help Wesley with researching the demon.

"But- I- B-but, if, if w-" Giles stuttered as everyone walked off to their assigned tasks, leaving him, Joyce and Lorne stood in the corridor.

"Consider it practice," Lorne said, patting Giles on the shoulder semi-supportively with a grin, "Remember, it'll soon be a permanent gig"

"See, it's not bad," Joyce said later on as she tried to get Rupert to actually hold Connor instead of looking at him from a safe distance with wary fear in his eyes. They were sat together on one of the benches conveniently placed between two stalls at the art market.

Giles just gave her a look in reply that said 'isn't it?'. He looked terribly uncomfortable with the child in his arms, but while he was obviously disgruntled by it, Joyce found his uncomfortableness amusing. Especially since he told her he had never held a baby before in his life. Ever. What kind of sheltered life had he led in England?

"I...he keeps wriggling," Giles told her, trying to maintain some Watcher dignity as he said it.

"Yes, babies do that," Joyce smiled, "Look you're doing fine. He's not even crying...anymore," She added on the end. "Just hold his head...like, yeah,there ya go," She smiled at her own handiwork.

"Pretty bracelets for a pretty lady," A cockney accent drew both of their attention and they turned to see the young brunette from the stall next to them holding out a velvet tray carrying an array of beautifully handcrafted bracelets. "Sorry," The woman apologized, in a now very Californian accent, "I wanted to get your attention without disturbing the baby...and...well I decided...okay, no," She finished as she looked at the confused looks Joyce and Giles were both throwing her, "But see? Bracelets?"

Joyce couldn't help smiling. The girl looked to be a little bit younger than Buffy- maybe nineteen? And was clearly nervous about manning her own stall, plus who was Joyce to turn away someone who was involved with the arts? Particularly when it was an arts you could wear.

"They're lovely," Joyce told her, fingering some of the beads, "Did you uh make them yourself?"

"Some," The girl told her with a proud smile as Joyce took one off the velvet tray for a closer look. As she twirled the beads around her fingers she looked at Rupert again to see him still looking uncomfortable with Connor. She briefly wondered whether he would be the same with their own child. If so, then he'd better get over it fast. For his own sake more than anything.

Thinking about that brought her back to the thoughts of what Lorne had said. Okay, so her daughter was going to be okay, nothing tragic was going to happen but...destiny? More destiny? For God's sake, Buffy was a vampire slayer and Dawn was...once was a mystical ball of energy. Couldn't one of her children just be destiny free? Have a nice normal life? Was that too much to ask. With three in a row having some destiny entanglement, Joyce began to wonder if it was all her fault that her daughters had such a rough time of it. Lorne may have said the baby would be okay, but Joyce wished there was a way she could know that her daughter would be okay- would be fine, would survive whatever destiny was to be forced upon her.

Joyce shook her head, shaking away her too-deep thoughts and she looked up to see the young woman at the stall was looking at her. Oh yeah, she still had hold of the bracelet.

"Erm,so uh where are the others from?" Joyce asked, "The ones you don't make yourself?"

"Antique stores mostly," The girl admitted, "I mean I don't pay a lot for them...but people hardly ever get a chance to see them or buy them because they kinda pass off antique shops as boring and, well, stuffy." the girl grinned.

Joyce put the bracelet back. The girl's smile fell.

"I...uh don't buy antiques," Joyce told her. Not since the last few had almost gotten her killed. "Sorry,"

The young girl looked disheartened, but Joyce couldn't really feel guilty. She'd come across one too many demonic antique jewelery, not the least of which her engagement ring. She turned to look at Rupert to see he actually looked slightly more comfortable with Connor but not much.

"We'd better be getting him back," Joyce said, "I think he's been out long enough. I don't think we need Angel coming home to find his son a little worse off than when he left him,"

Of all the places for that scrying spell to point out to him, it had to be one of those dastardly crass markets in L.A didn't it? Probably some clueless young thing selling the talisman off as a piece of vintage jewelery.

God, how Ethan hated crowds. It was the only time in his life that Chaos worked against him in the extreme disadvantage sense of the word. There one was, just trying to get to your destination and people get in the way. Blunt force was also something Ethan wasn't fond of, he had more insidious tactics, but there was a rather large red head pushing a twin trolley as though it gave her rights to the town and all it's sidewalks that really needed knocking for six.

Ethan shook the annoyance aside and just focused and headed towards the stall that held Helena's Band. There the woman was who owned the stall- just as he suspected- very young, very pretty and he surmised very easy to charm. Definitely something he could work to his advantage. He could be quite the charmer, no magick necessary.

He had barely reached the stall and already his eyes had caught sight of the bracelet. It was just there. Finally, he could wish all his goddamn problems away (and then deal with the demon...or maybe he'd leave that to someone else. Those hero types or whatever. They were usually up for saving the day). He took a few more steps forward to see the bracelet disappear before him. Literally. In thin air. One minute it was there and then poof! Gone.

Which meant someone had made the First Wish already.

Ethan pivoted, looking around for the trinket amongst the crowds. The bracelet would have attached itself to the first wisher, using the energy from them to help the demon find another wish. It was the way it worked. And if the bracelet had just disappeared now then the bracelet couldn't be far away.

Ah! There it was! Attached to an oblivious woman's handbag rather like a powerful handbag charm. She had obviously inadvertently made a wish or she would have been keeping a tighter hold on the piece of jewelery.

Ethan squinted for amoment, planning to commit her face to memory so if he lost her in the crowd before he got a chance to snatch the charm, then he could easily find her again.

The face he saw was already committed to memory though from previous encounters. As was the even more familiar face of the man beside her.

"Oh bloody hell," Ethan grumbled. Why did nearly everything he did lead back to them? It was a bloody conspiracy.

"I just want...well, thank you I guess, for what you did," Joyce told Lorne later on. She and Rupert were just getting ready to leave, their bags already in the car, and they were all in the foyer saying their farewells which were more likely to become see-you-soons, to the team at Angel Investigations.

"It's no problem sweetcheeks, it's what I do," Lorne assured her, smiling when she frowned at his term of endearment, "But I do expect to have this one paying me a visit in the future," He added, patting her stomach and Joyce greatly hoped this wasn't going to be one of many stomach-pats from people. It was as though once you became pregnant, your abdomen became public property with complete strangers wishing to cop a feel.

"Sure..." Joyce told him, but she wasn't fully convinced, "But thanks anyway," She smiled, "Although I'm not quite sure how to take what you said as comforting or not..."

"Trust me, you haven't got a thing to worry about," He grinned, "Well you know...except the usual"

Joyce's expression when he told her that, pointed out to him that that had been the wrong thing to say and he rushed to reassure her.

"So this visit has been thankfully one of the less eventful," Giles concluded and Wesley nodded in agreement.

"Yes, you could say that. Though what prompted your visit could be called an event in itself," Wes added, glancing in the direction of Joyce, who, right now, was being comforted by a guilty looking Lorne.

"I suppose," Giles half agreed.

"Have you told Joyce of how the child will be most likely taken into the Watcher community, if not at eleven, then when she is of age?" Wesley asked and Giles immediately shook his head.

"No. And I don't intend to"

"You don't?" Wesley raised his eyebrows in surprise, "You and I both know that the Watcher line is inarguably strong in your line...well, with the exception of your brother of course"

"Yes, but oddly enough I find myself not caring," Giles told him and Wesley found himself smirking. The council may have started paying Giles again for his Watcherly duties to Buffy, but they certainly hadn't re-recruited him, "If that's the way she wishes to go then fine, if it's not then I shan't force it upon her or let Travers and his bunch of pillocks do so either."

"Do we hug?" Cordelia asked sceptically as she and Joyce came to say their goodbyes, "I mean I'm not like Buffy or Willow or whatever...I'm not sure we hug"

"Hey! It works!" The two were prevented from making the hug decision by Angel's sudden and unexpected, happy exclamation. They turned to see him using the rock-and-walk on Connor.

"That always works," Joyce told him, barely preventing a 'well duh' tone coming out in her voice.

"Well, see ya then," Fred said in her shy, quiet voice, "It was nice to meetcha"

"It was lovely meeting you too Fred," Joyce told her warmly, motherly instincts kicking in overtime as she looked at this sweet girl that reminded her so much of Tara, but so much of Willow at the same time. She wondered whether the girl would be too timid to happily receive a small hug, but decided to go with it anyway. If Cordelia didn't want a hug, then Fred could at least have one.

"Well, we'd better be off then," Giles concluded, walking over to Joyce as though this were the ultimate sign that they were leaving.

There were several more byes and farewells and awkward do-we-hugs-or-not circumstances before Rupert and Joyce finally did leave. Wesley wouldn't like to bet on whether they were coming back to L.A or not. On the one hand it wasn't likely they'd ever return, on the other- well, you never know.

It was a few moments after the gang had heard the couple drive away when someone burst in through the door. He looked haggered and panicked and was definitely in a rush. This was a man who screamed for the help of Angel Investigations.

"Can we help you?" Wesley asked, stepping forward.

"I need- have you seen Ripper- Giles. I need to find Giles," The man told him and Cordelia frowned as the name Ripper rang a bell in her head. She knew it was related to Giles, who this guy was clearly looking for, but she couldn't remember when she'd last heard someone say it (well, someone besides Buffy's Mom when she and hundreds of other adults of Sunnydale had become not-so-adult). She looked up at the guy, finding him faintly familiar.

"Don't I know you?" Angel asked, voicing Cordelia's question and when the guy immediately responded to this question with a shifty and nervous look, Cordy recognized him.

"You're- you're the guy!" She exclaimed, "The creepy tattoo guy with the demon thingy! Erm...Ethan!"

"Well, I'm pleased you remember," Ethan grinned, before frowning, "Though your description could use a little tweaking."

"Who?" Wesley asked,looking as confused as Fred and Gunn. Lorne looking only slightly less confused. "You're from Sunnydale?" He asked Ethan.

"Not exactly," He replied.

"He was like a mate of Giles or whatever in like the 70s or something," Cordelia explained in a slightly bored tone as if it were all old news, which it was to her. "When Giles was like all rebelling and what-not and they were summoning demons or something."

"Eyghon." Angel murmured as the memory came back to him, "I remember now."

"Eyghon?" Wesley asked in disbelief, "The Sleepwalker?"

"The very same," Ethan told him with a smile, but Wesley shook his head, even more perplexed than before.

"That demon is extremely potent- summoning can cause lethal possession...Giles would never-"

"You don't know Ripper too well do you?" Ethan asked, "Didn't they tell you anything at that Council of yours?" He guessed Wesley was from the same tweed clad agency as Rupert from the familiar stance and upper-class British shock.

"I had heard rumors but..." Wesley trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

"So Sunnydale's British Guy was a big bad back when," Gunn summarized, "And you're here now because...?"

"Catch up on old times?" Ethan quipped, but Angel's face was deadly serious.

"Get out"

"Come now, let's not be hasty," He replied, unfazed by Angel's threat, "I just need you to point me in the direction of Ripper. Need us to have a little chat, see"

"Why?" Angel asked, his voice a low growl and precariously, Cordelia took Connor out of his arms.

Ethan sighed as if this explanation they were asking for was going to take all his energy.

"If you must know, he's got a wish demon attached to him. Not to be confused with Vengeance Demons by the way and also, it isn't him it's attached to so much as his little wife who has herself caused me many issues in the past"

"What?" Cordelia asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "And you're just trying to help them?"

"No..." Ethan replied slowly and honestly, "I plan to use the wish for myself"

"Oh, well that makes sense," Cordy agreed, "For you"

"So...?" Ethan prompted, "Where are they?"

"Why should we tell you anyway?" Wesley asked bravely, but Ethan could see the fear beneath it all. Apparently Wesley wasn't quite confident standing up to a man who hadn't been afraid to summon Eyghon. Might have explained his slight nerves around Giles the first time he met him- subconscious working overtime perhaps?

Ethan sighed yet again as he was forced to answer more questions.

"Because helping myself inadvertently helps them...mores the pity- now; where are they?"

"They left already," Angel told him, "For Sunnydale"

Sunnydale. Could Ethan's day get any worse?

Revello Drive was completely empty. At the moment. A second later and a girl was in the house. Wherever she had been previously before her sudden appearance, she had apparently been leaning on something and with the prop no longer there to hold her up, she toppled over, landing in a pile on the living room floor. She sat up, pushing her dark blond hair out of her face and looked around the room with a deep frown, trying to identify her surroundings and failing.

"Huh," She merely said in conclusion.

Rupert and Joyce pulled up in the driveway, Joyce waking up from a deep sleep (Rupert was thankful he was the one who decided to drive), just as Buffy was wandering up the walkway with Dawn.

"Neat timing," Buffy commented and when Joyce looked at her questioningly she held up a bag heavy with contents, "Been school supply shopping. Just like I promised. Dawn will never be without a number two pencil again"

"She means it," Dawn told them, "She bought like the superpack of everything."

"So how was L.A?" Buffy asked casually and Joyce knew the hidden question was 'so how was Angel?'

"Strange," Joyce replied.

"So fairly normal in relation to our usual visits out of Sunnydale," Giles added. He and Joyce had both agreed in the car, that is before Joyce had been overcome with fatigue and had fallen asleep, that they weren't going to inform Buffy about Connor. That way led to sadness, moping, confusion and...well, sweaty palms.

"And the singing guy? Was he cooler than the guy who made us into a musical?" Dawn asked eagerly as they all walked up to the front door.

"Erm, he was decidedly less evil yes," Giles told her.

"And is everything okay in there?" Buffy asked, nodding in the direction of Joyce's stomach, as she pushed open the front door.

"Apparently fine," Joyce answered honestly, "Confusing...slightly, but fine" She smiled, but Buffy thought it was a little forced.

"Well," Buffy said as they all walked in, immediately turning towards the living room, "Now you can-" She cut off abruptly as she saw a stranger stood next to the couch.

The girl was about Buffy's age, a little taller though with dark blond hair that was curling at the ends. Wearing faded jeans and a purple spaghetti strap top she didn't look evil- but then looks could be deceiving.

"Excuse me?" Buffy asked in a tone that easily translated to 'who the hell are you?'.

The girl spun round, having been facing the fireplace till now, and her green eyes widened as she caught sight of the family in front of her.

"Oh my god," She exclaimed, looking at Joyce and Rupert in wonder, "Mom? Dad?" The girl looked totally blown away, "This is wicked weird."

Silent shock ensued.