A/N: Hi! Sorry this is a tad late. I have a reason! Granted, it's not my most valid excuse, but it still counts in my book. All-State Choir Try Outs are tomorrow and I've been stressing all week. Today was extra bad because, well, today is Thursday...tomorrow is Friday...All-State is Friday, which, as you all know, is tomorrow...

So, it's safe to say I haven't written anything all week because I can't stop stressing. I have a feeling if I wrote anything now, Buffy and Angel would end up having a huge fight, Buffy would leave, Angel would descend into depression, Cordy would go evil, Gunn would leave AI, and Wesley would get lost in the library. Of course, if all this happened, it would leave Fred all alone. Which would really suck for her...

Probaby a good thing I didn't write any this week, right?

You guys are lucky I've had this chap written for awhile! I just couldn't get myself to edit it and post this morning. But, alas, here I am, posting...

Random Disclaimer: (I don't own Buffy).

Angel: Um, AC, are you okay?

*Me rocking back and forth in a dark corner*

Me: Sing on beat 1, don't go off tempo, Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!...Daemon!...sing on beat 1...Shining!..sing on beat 1...

Buffy: She's lost it.

Me: (looks up) Have not.

Buffy: Yeah. You're bordering on insane.

Me: No, you know what's insane? Having conversations with fictional characters twice a week and posting them for the world to see.

Angel: She has a point.

Me: Damn right I do. Now, if you please, I'm busy stressing...

Angel: You shouldn't stress all the time. It only wears you down.

Me: (scoffs) Yeah, practice your own advice Sir Broods-A-Lot

Billy Part One

"Don't stiffen up."

"Yeah, you either."

Buffy smirked and couldn't contain the giggle that escaped her at her joke.

"Oh, ick," Cordelia shuddered. "I didn't just hear that, I didn't just hear that…" she muttered before glaring at Angel and Buffy who looked completely unrepentant.

"You two are supposed to be training me in the art of combat!" Cordelia complained. "I'm not volunteering my time and my sweat to listen to you two trade innuendoes. It's not as if either of you are sex-deprived!"

Angel pointed his finger at Buffy. "She said it, not me."

"Tattletale," Buffy grumbled, crossing her arms, though she was careful not to slice herself with the sword that she held in her hand.

"And tell me again, Buffy, my dear, pregnant friend," Cordelia stressed. "Why do you have a sword?"

Buffy pouted. "What? It's not like I'm fighting with it...or fighting at all," she added bitterly. No Slaying or physical fighting of any kind was proving to be the only downside of being pregnant. The innate urge to protect and defend was nearly overpowering sometimes. She hated being side-lined.

"She was just going through the motions." Angel fought a grin. Buffy was so cute when she pouted.

"Okay, so can we get to the teaching now?" Cordelia raised her eyebrows.

"Right," Buffy nodded, handing her sword to Cordelia.

"A good defense is about moving the line of attack," Angel explained as he adjusted Cordelia's grip on the sword and positioned her correctly.

"When a bad guy comes at you, you want to step off the line," Buffy picked up where Angel had left off flawlessly.

Angel turned Cordelia in accordance to what Buffy had just explained. "Like this," he said and jumped out of the way to avoid Cordelia's sword disemboweling him.

"This way you create a new line," Buffy explained as Cordelia and Angel went through the movements of a fight step by step. "Careful," Buffy couldn't help but add. "I need him."

Cordelia snorted. "Don't we all know it…"

"Moving on," Angel said quickly, getting them back on track. "Every time you create a new line, your attacker will be forced to adjust. Always make the other guy work."

"Okay," Cordelia nodded. "Move the line. Got it. Then, what?"

Angel picked up his own sword. "Then, just keep moving the line. You'll be able to keep the attacker busy until…" Angel paused. "You know…"

"What?" Cordelia raised her eyebrows. "Until he dies of old age or you swoop in and save the day?" Cordelia shook her head. "Angel, I didn't ask you and Buffy…" she paused and looked toward Buffy briefly. "Mainly you to train me," she amended, casting an apologetic look at Buffy, who pouted, but nodded in understanding. "I didn't ask to learn to stave; I already know how to stave. I need to know how to fight."

Angel studied the Seer for a moment, before nodding. "Okay," he agreed as he came to stand next to her. He began going through some motions, Cordelia copying his movements.

"When you put an adversary down, you want to make sure he won't get up again. So, like I showed you…" Angel trailed off as he watched Cordelia's movements, noting with some surprise how quickly she seemed to be picking it up.

"Force the other guy to counter and he'll open himself up," Buffy explained, watching them with a critical eye.

"Like this," Angel demonstrated. "We'll go half-speed until—" Angel put his sword down.

"No need, I got it," Cordelia said confidently. "Three years of Varsity Cheer Squad. I only had to be shown a move once."

"You know, Cordy, handling a lethal weapon is just a little different than shaking a pom-pom," Angel told her, unable from letting just a little condescension seep into his tone.

Cordelia's eyes narrowed. "Ready? Okay!"

That was the only warning Angel had before Cordelia came at him full-speed. She quickly had him pinned against the wall, her sword at his throat. Angel looked at her, slightly wide-eyed. "Whoa, easy there…" he chuckled nervously. "Um…go team."

Buffy's laughter rang out through the basement as she strode forward. "Cordy, I think you proved your point," she joked.

"Was this how your training sessions went?" Cordelia asked, the blade of her sword still at Angel's throat. "All the 'take it easy' crap?"

Buffy's eyes sparkled. "Not quite."

"Ew," Cordelia shuddered. "Never mind."

"You asked," Buffy shrugged. "Now, could you put down your sword?" she giggled. "I really do need him fully functioning."

"Gah, Buffy, what have hormones done to you?" Cordelia asked exasperated, but nonetheless dropped her sword and quickly exited the room, mumbling about lust bunnies.

Once she was gone, Buffy eyed Angel heatedly, her green eyes darkening. "Have I ever told you how sexy you look with a sword?" she asked as she ran her hands over his chest.

"No."

"Hmm," Buffy hummed as her hands slid slowly down his stomach. "Well you do."

"Good to know."

"Mhm."

"Gonna kiss me yet?"

"Workin' on it."

"Work faster."

Buffy smirked at his husky tone, her lips at his collarbone. "You know, out of the two of us, you're the impatient one."

Angel growled from deep within his chest, causing Buffy to giggle. His hands clutched her hips, pulling her to him. "I've never heard you complain," he retorted before his lips descended upon hers.

Buffy smiled into the kiss, even if in the back of her mind she was lamenting that she couldn't be totally pressed up against him anymore. She was four months pregnant and there was now a significant roundness to her stomach that prevented her from feeling every inch of him against her.

Buffy slipped her hands underneath Angel's shirt before pulling back just long enough to pull it over his head. Her hands instantly moved over the newly exposed skin, her fingernails trailing lightly down his back. Angel's lips moved down her neck, lingering on his Mark, which elicited a low moan from Buffy's lips.

"We're going to need a bed," Angel murmured against her skin.

Buffy nipped at his earlobe in agreement. "Fast."

A few hours later, Buffy was sitting with Cordelia in Wesley's kitchen. Angel and Gunn were in the living room playing video games, while Fred sat perched on the arm of the sofa, watching the two play.

"It's inspiring to see you like this," Wesley said to Cordelia. "The initiative you've shown in training with Angel," he elaborated.

"And me," Buffy added with a glare.

"And Buffy," Wesley amended as he handed her a jar of crunchy peanut butter and a stalk of celery.

"Ooo, yummy," Buffy licked her lips before digging in. "Thanks, Wes."

Wesley smiled in reply before turning back to Cordelia, who was contemplating the possible consequences of trying to get a bite of peanut butter. "Taking responsibility," Wesley continued. "I'm proud of you."

"Well, it never hurts to be prepared," Cordelia replied absently as she took her chance, snatching a piece of celery and dipping it in the peanut butter. She quickly stuffed it into her mouth and met Buffy's raised eyebrows.

Smiling slightly, a red-tinged, embarrassed blush lit her cheeks; Buffy set the peanut butter in between them. "I'm not moody today," she explained.

Cordelia smirked. "Nope, Angel took care of that."

"Cordy!" Wesley and Buffy both protested, but Cordelia shrugged nonchalantly.

"What?" Cordelia questioned with a smile. "I may complain about those hormones, but I don't know what I'd do if Angel weren't here to take care of those mood swings."

"I don't have mood swings," Buffy grumbled.

"Denial," Cordelia sing-songed, laughing when Buffy tried to shove her off the stool.

Desperate to continue his line of thought, Wesley soldiered on. "We should all be battle ready," he said as he looked towards Fred. "Every one of us."

"Dead! So Dead!" Gunn hollered from the living room. "So very, very dead! How dead are you, huh?" he taunted.

"I'm tired of being the dead one," Angel muttered broodingly, causing a smile to pull at Buffy's lips at his unintentional joke.

Buffy turned back to Wesley, feeling bad that they seemed to be conspiring against him. He still hadn't said all that he'd meant to say. "You were trying to say, Wes?" she asked with a smile.

Wesley gave her a grateful look. "I was thinking that perhaps I'd enter into a similar training arrangement with our Fred."

Buffy's eyes lit up slightly at that, and she and Cordelia shared a knowing look. After their last case, Buffy had pulled Cordelia aside and told her about her suspicions of a potential love triangle erupting in A.I.—specifically concerning Gunn, Wesley, and Fred. Cordelia too had noticed the long looks the two men had aimed towards Fred, who seemed completely oblivious.

Cordelia couldn't help but tease Wesley. "Oh, hey, well if you think that she can help you fight, then why not?" she laughed. Wesley shot her a look. "I'm kidding," Cordelia smiled.

"Wes," Buffy glanced at Cordelia and then back to Wesley. "If you want to get to know Fred better, maybe next time you have her over for an intimate dinner for two, you won't ask the rest of us to come along." Buffy smiled at him sympathetically.

Wesley began to stutter. "I, ah, I…" Cordelia raised her eyebrows, and Wesley sighed nervously. "I'm not that obvious, am I?"

As if on cue, Gunn yelled at the TV. "Yes! Ha, ha!"

"I don't think anyone else has noticed," Buffy reassured him in a whisper.

"She's an extraordinary woman," Wesley said, a dreamy quality catching in his voice, causing Buffy and Cordelia to hold back giggles. Wesley had it bad. "Still," he paused, his voice becoming hesitant. "The last thing any of us should be doing is…coupling…with each other." Buffy frowned. "I mean, office romances, even under the most normal circumstances…"

"Hey," Buffy interrupted with a glare. "I'm close to being insulted. What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, obviously, you and Angel have proven that you are exceptions to this generality," Wesley was quick to assure her. He didn't want an angry, pregnant Slayer on his hands.

"We don't live in normal circumstances," Cordelia pointed out as she took another stalk of celery and scooped a large portion of peanut butter on it. "I mean, what are the odds of any of us finding someone out there who can deal with the kind of stuff we have to deal with?" Cordelia shrugged. "I don't know, maybe we are meant…"

"For each other?" Wesley finished, and Buffy felt her heart tighten at the hope in his voice. Wesley was like a little boy sometimes, and Buffy's mothering instincts were starting to take over.

"Actually, I was going to say 'to be alone,'" Cordelia admitted with a sympathetic frown.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Wes, if you like her, tell her," she advised.

It did bother that she and Angel were the only ones coupled off. She knew that their lovey-dovey moments grated on their friend's nerves sometimes. It was like Cordelia had told her once, "Well, it's hard not to be a little depressed when you've got Mr. and Mrs. All Powerful Love as friends."

"Yeah," Cordelia agreed with a shrug, deciding to go with Buffy's optimism. "If you like her just go up to her and hug her into little pieces."

Suddenly, Cordelia gasped in pain and fell from the stool, clutching her head. Immediately, Angel and Gunn were by her side as Wesley hurried around the counter, and Buffy carefully slid from her stool. "Easy," Angel ordered gently as he helped Cordelia sit up.

"Convenience store," Cordelia muttered. "Man attacking a woman—it's his wife." Cordelia frowned. "It's his wife," she repeated confused.

"How many convenience stores we got on the Westside?" Angel asked the room.

"Well," Fred began. "Even if you just include Santa Monica, Beverly Hills and Malibu only, the combined population is something like a hundred thirty thousand people spread over more than thirty square miles, and given that..."

"A lot," Gunn finished for her.

"I was getting there," Fred frowned slightly, folding her arms over her chest.

"Alright, so we split up," Buffy suggested. "Two teams. Gunn, Wes—"

"No, it's too late," Cordelia interrupted, causing everyone to look at her in confusion. "You can't save her."

"Why?" Buffy frowned.

"Because it happened over a week ago," Cordelia explained with a frown of her own. She looked up at Angel. "Why would they send this to me now?"

Buffy sighed as she lay back on the bed. She let her head fall to the side, looking at the empty space next to her. Angel was out patrolling. He'd grown frustrated when he'd learned that they couldn't get the information on the case of the convenience store murder until tomorrow. Apparently, knocking around a defenseless punching bag wasn't going to cut it. He wanted something that would fight back.

Buffy frowned. Used to, before she was pregnant, they would just spar. Buffy missed sparring.

With a small frown, Buffy placed a hand on her stomach. She'd grown used to the changes in her body. The ever-growing stomach, the ever-growing breasts—Angel was thrilled. The thought caused Buffy to smile. This pregnancy was causing her to see a whole new side of him. She'd never seen him so excited. He was practically giddy.

Buffy had another appointment with Cassie a week ago and she'd said that Buffy should be feeling the baby move any time now. Angel had been disappointed when he'd learned that he wouldn't be able to feel it, but that didn't stop him from talking to her stomach all the time.

The door opened then, and Angel came down the stairs. He smiled when he saw her. "What are you smiling about?" he asked as he pulled his shirt over his head.

Buffy admired the way his muscles moved for a moment before she spoke. "You."

"Me?" Angel chuckled. "What's so smile-worthy about me?"

Buffy snorted. "I'm not even gracing that question with an answer."

Angel grinned as he leaned over her, a hand on either side of her body. She was trapped…and she didn't mind a bit. "Hmm," Angel hummed before kissing her softly. "Are you sure you don't have an answer for me?"

Buffy smiled. "Yep."

Angel sighed, shaking his head before leaning in and kissing her again. His lips strayed to her jaw, planting feather light kisses to the sensitive spot behind her ear. "Are you sure?"

Buffy tilted her head to give him better access. "Positive."

"Liar," he accused as he kissed his way down her neck.

"I was thinking," Buffy began, but paused when Angel's lips trailed along her collarbone. "About how you talk to the baby," she admitted with a small smile.

Angel smiled against her skin. He looked down at her stomach. "See? All she does is laugh at me."

"I do not," Buffy defended herself, looking down at her stomach. "Don't listen to your father. He's an idiot."

Angel frowned. "Don't listen to your mother, she's young."

Buffy scoffed. "Don't listen to him, he's old. He just doesn't look it."

Angel opened his mouth to retort, but then chuckled. He looked back at Buffy, his chocolate brown eyes sparkling. "You realize we're defending ourselves to someone who can't possibly referee."

"Yes he can," Buffy said. "And he'd declare me the winner."

Angel sighed. "I knew it," he shook his head. "He's going to be a momma's boy."

"But he's definitely his father's son," Buffy returned with a smile.

Angel simply stared at her for a moment. One of his hands came up and lightly caressed her cheek. "I still can't believe this is happening," he murmured eventually. "Us. A baby."

"Me either," Buffy admitted, her smile still in place as she leaned into his touch. "I just wish that I could help you like I used to," she divulged truthfully with a regretful frown.

"Hey," Angel chided her gently. "So what if you can't fight anymore?" he asked. "You're doing something far, far more important." Angel kissed her lips gently. "You're keeping our baby warm and safe and happy, and that is more important than any right hook."

With a sigh, Angel pulled back. "You better get some sleep," he advised. "It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

"Yeah," Buffy agreed as she thought over the day's events and what tomorrow could possibly bring. "I just wonder what's in that file."

"What's this?" Cordelia asked as Wesley dropped a file on top of her desk.

"Everything," Wesley replied. "Everything about the crime I believe you saw in your vision. Police reports, husband's written confession, captures from the convenience store's surveillance cameras…"

By now the rest of A.I. had joined them and were flipping through various papers in the file. "And I have to caution all of you," Wesley continued. "But the medical examiner's crime scene photos are there as well."

Cordelia went to pick up the pictures, but Angel snatched them out of her hands. "You don't need to see that," he argued quietly.

"Why not? I've already got the THX version," Cordelia retorted, snatching the pictures back. "How'd you get this stuff?"

"The old-fashioned way," Wesley answered. "I bought it."

"The police sold you this stuff?" Fred asked as she looked through the victim's phone records.

"Not exactly," Wesley explained. "A source, someone who has access. Usually they sell to the tabloids when the victims are more…high profile."

"Charlene Baird," Gunn read the name.

"The victim," Wesley acknowledged with a nod. "She and the perpetrator were married for thirty years. No history of domestic abuse."

Fred frowned. "So why did he do it?"

"He says she wouldn't listen to him," Wesley explained with a frown. "He was trying to get her to stop talking."

"Well it worked," Buffy said distastefully. "Why would a guy who has been married for thirty years, assumedly happily married, suddenly kill his wife because he wanted her to stop talking?"

"What I don't get is that this guy confessed—crime solved," Gunn said confused. "Why are the Powers making Cordy watch re-runs?"

"I don't know," Wesley admitted.

"I do," Angel announced, a hard edge in his voice that had Buffy on alert. She looked up at him, and frowned when she saw the simmering rage in his eyes. Angel put the surveillance photo he'd been looking at down on the desk. "Eleven twenty-four, twenty minutes before the crime occurred—look who's there."

Buffy looked down at the picture, searching for what had caused Angel's anger. Then her eyes found him. "Oh."

"Oh, boy," Gunn mumbled and Buffy knew that he'd recognized the man too.

"What?" Cordelia asked frustrated. "What?" she repeated as she snatched the photo and looked at it. "Okay. Kinda cute," she admitted. "Who is he?"

No one answered.

Angel stalked away, one hand on his hip as the other rubbed the back of his neck. Everyone jumped when he punched through the drywall, growling and muttering under his breath. Wesley's eyebrows were puckered together, deep in thought. Gunn sighed deeply and Fred looked nervous.

"Guys," Cordelia said slowly, fear edging into her voice. "Who is he?"

"He's the man Angel brought back from Hell," Buffy answered, glancing in Angel's direction as she did so, seeing his back stiffen as she voiced what they all knew.

They were all quiet as Buffy's words sank in. Silently, Buffy moved to Angel, who was leaning against the wall, looking out into the garden. Buffy placed a gentle hand on his arm, smiling a bit when some of his tension vanished.

"It'll be alright," Buffy reassured him quietly, her voice just loud enough for him to hear.

"It's my fault," Angel replied just as quietly.

"No it's not." Buffy came to stand in front of him, her expression firm. "None of this is your fault."

"I brought him back," Angel argued. "He's here because I brought him here."

"That may be," Buffy conceded. "But that woman's death isn't your fault. It's what's-his-face's. He did it. Not you."

"But—"

"No buts," Buffy interrupted. "Don't guilt yourself into brooding," she smiled slightly. "Otherwise you'll have an angry pregnant woman to deal with."

Angel's lips twitched, fighting a smile. "That's never a good thing."

"Something you should probably avoid," Buffy agreed.

Angel pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "What would I do without you?"

Buffy smirked. "Brood."

Angel chuckled under his breath. "You're right."

"Duh."

Buffy took Angel's hand and together they walked back to the group. Cordelia was now pacing behind her desk, the photo clutched in her hands as she continued to stare at it. "Are you sure this is him?" she asked.

"You pull someone out of a Hell dimension, you tend to remember their face," Angel replied. "That's him."

"Well then now we know why the Powers made me experience that woman's death," Cordelia said. "She died because of me."

"No," Angel disagreed.

"Yes!" Cordelia said firmly. Her pretty face was troubled and guilty. "Angel, if he's somehow responsible, then so am I."

"You're not the one who broke him out and put him on the streets," Angel told her calmly, trying to assuage her guilt. "I did that."

Buffy glared at him, and Angel gave her a look meant to reassure.

"For me," Cordelia pointed out. "You did it to save me."

"And I'd do it again," Angel returned easily. "Listen, Cordy. You're not responsible for anything that's happening now and neither am I—but I know who is."

Buffy knew that tone. Wolfram and Hart. Lilah. "Going out?" she asked knowingly.

"Yeah."

"Just a friendly visit?"

"Of course."

"Be home by nine."

Angel couldn't help but grin at that. "Yes, Ma'am."

Wow, I forgot how much fluff was actually in this chapter! Huh, lucky for you guys, right?

So, on that note (hehe, pun)...would you guys mind dropping me a line?

Reviews will help de-stress me,

AC