Dedication: In Memory of Winnie.

Heartfelt thanks as per usual, to my beloved betas, especially Anja, 'Ria, Pia and Shirley, who between them, made me rewrite the whole damn story! *laugh*  Big welcome to Debs, as well! The readers have you guys to thank, for Chapter Seven, on!

Spoiler Warning: I Will Remember You,  and most of the B/A Cannon...  Oh, and the movie, The Sixth Sense.

Rated: Er... R? Let's just say R.

Summary: Buffy is pregnant following the events of I Will Remember You. Angel has returned to Sunnydale to keep an eye on her. It quickly became apparent that things weren't going to work out, so he had planned to leave her life once again, in the capable hands of Special Agent Riley Finn. But the Initiative had other plans, and kidnapped Buffy. Once Riley and Forest saved her, and destroyed the facility itself, the two men were forced into hiding, undermining Angel’s plans. After nearly losing Buffy again, he has decided to stay on the Hellmouth, and try to work things out. As usual with these two, it’s not easy…

Buffy has lived through heartbreak, dire injury, death, and even several Armageddons, with Angel by her side.

Will she survive the miracle of pregnancy and childbirth?

Chapter One: A Whole New Ballgame

Angel counted out the last of the money to the darkly suited man.

"Nice doing business with you," the burly Italian drawled, and walked out the front door.

There. Most of what he needed to accomplish before the baby was born was now finished. It had taken almost three months to arrange, but looking around, he knew it was worth it.

With one last, long glance, he turned and left, locking the door behind him and pocketing the key.

He paced from one end of the mansion to the other. Is this what he was doomed to, as a parent, this constant, agonizing waiting? Buffy should have been back from her doctor’s appointment hours ago, with the results of a long afternoon’s worth of tests.

Had the baby been harmed in any way by the Initiative? If anything happened to Buffy or their child because of them… if either of them got so much as a sniffle that he could prove originated from something they’d done to her… he would hunt them down, one by one, and slowly break every bone in their bodies with his bare hands. The neck always came last, of course – you can snap the spine itself and still have a living creature to torture…

But, damn it! He felt so helpless through all of this. The first time, when Buffy was almost killed by the Kasala… and then, when she was taken by the Initiative…

He might as well have stayed human to begin with, if this was all the help he would be to her.

He looked mournfully at the enormous plastic monstrosity awaiting his attention on the living room floor.

" 57" Wide Screen Digital Satellite Television," He read on the cover of the owner’s manual. "I don’t even know what that means!" he cried out to the empty room.

Angel stared helplessly at the mass of tangled wires in his hands.

"Need some help with that, son?" Came a fake macho voice from behind him.

He turned and smiled tightly at Willow. Didn’t any of these people knock?

"I don’t think the instructions are in English," He whined, holding up the offending document for her inspection.

She took it and read the first page carefully. "How many languages do you speak, like, seven? Let’s look," She flipped another page, "I bet some of those have to include: French, Spanish, Japanese. Oh, and look! English!"

He scowled at her. "Hey. If you ever need a champion to behead something with a broadsword, I’m your man. Electronics, I leave to the brains behind the operation," he said.

"Which would be me," she said happily, beginning to untangle the wires that had wrapped around his feet like some monster’s tentacles.

"Which would be you," he agreed, helping her.

"I’d say we did okay breaking into the Initiative, wouldn’t you?" she chirped.

Angel fell silent, and the smile began to slip from his face. "We didn’t exactly break in… Buffy broke out. And what we did do, you did, with magick."

"Yeah, but you saved Riley, so… I think you definitely deserve some extra hero points," she insisted, and bent over to plug the TV into the wall, then handed him the remote, "Xander says the man has to use it, first. And, as frightening as it may sound, he would be the one to know."

Angel held the contraption in his hand like a delicate, antique weapon that might discharge at any moment. He looked down at it in terror, but was pleasantly surprised to find that even a monkey such as himself, or Xander Harris, could operate it. He pushed the big, red "ON" button, and the thing exploded to life, barraging his senses with colors and sounds he’d never seen in nature.

He watched, entranced, as large men in colorful outfits screamed at one another, preened and bragged, then tossed one another around what appeared to be a large boxing ring.

"This is… wrestling?" Angel asked, shocked and dismayed.

"That’s what they keep trying to tell us. Here," she said, taking the remote, "I can show you stuff that’s probably more to your taste. You use the memory button…" she began flipping through the channels she’d programmed.

"It’s not… horror… movies… is it?" he mumbled worriedly. Willow looked down at him and tried not to laugh. She didn’t think it was possible that Angel was afraid of anything at all, least of all stupid slasher movies.

"No. No horror. Look," She continued flipping, "I had to put Fox and the WB on for Buffy’s programs… And channel 5 so she can watch the game shows and Jerry Springer…"

Angel stared at the screen, dumbfounded. He’d managed to avoid television for almost 40 years…

"Oh. Okay," He agreed stupidly.

"Wait, this is the good part," Willow said, and kept clicking, "American Movie Classics, Turner Classic Movies, TV Land, Comedy Central, VH1, the History Channel, Sci Fi… they do play scary movies, but only on certain nights of the week, and they warn you, first."

"No wonder you guys don’t read," Angel said, taking back the remote and repeating Willow’s motions, "If I had this when I was young, I would never have picked up a book."

This time, Willow laughed at him.

"Hidiho, neighbors!" Buffy called from the foyer. She would have skipped into the living room, if it wasn’t for the highly probable danger of mutilating herself horribly because she was 30 lbs. off balance all the time.

Xander stumbled through the door behind her, his arms completely overloaded with packages. Cordelia brought up the rear, empty-handed.

Angel looked up at the crowd of kids and stuff that had suddenly flooded the living room of his usually peaceful home. He had a sudden sensation of watching a circus move in. He walked over to Xander, and took the boxes closest to toppling from the top of his burden.

"Let me help you with that," He offered, shooting Cordelia a look as she trotted by.

"Thanks, man," Xander said, and set the rest of the packages down on the couch.

Willow ran off to join the other women in the kitchen. They all danced around one another, giggling and squealing like teenagers. Xander gave Angel a pained look – he never understood the whole high-pitched greeting thing, either.

"Honey, wait until you see what I got!" Buffy laughed, turning all the bags upside down and littering both the couch and the floor with baby clothes. Angel caught one bag as it floated away.

"Baby Gap," He read.  Where did people get these idiot names for stores?

She held up one outfit after another for his inspection. They blurred by so fast, he barely had time to say, "Oh.", "Wow", and "I like that", let alone remember what the Hell it was she was showing him.

He felt like he’d stepped into an alternate dimension. And Xander, whose mouth seemed stuck in a shocked little "o", was apparently feeling it, too.

"And of course, I went to Mommies’ World and got myself a couple of things…" Buffy went on.

Angel stared at yet another enormous bag being emptied for his inspection.

"Of course you did," Xander said wryly.

Angel turned to look at him, "Speaking of… girl things, where is Anya, anyway?"

Xander shrugged. "She doesn’t much get into this girly stuff. No possibility of sex."

"Ah," Angel replied, "Wise."

Xander nodded, "And yet, we're here," he lamented.

Buffy plopped down beside him, dropping a giant bowl of popcorn in his lap.

"No salt, extra butter," She said through a mouthful, "I can’t afford to get any more bloated."

Angel winced at her in a vain attempt to smile.

Buffy’s face softened, and she cuddled up closer to him. "Aw, I’m sorry… today was a little much for you, wasn’t it?"

He sighed, wearily, but happily. "Well, I’d better get used to it," He said, kissing her hair, "A baby will be a whole lot more of a handful than you guys…"

"You’ll do okay," She assured him, "Hey, how about some cultural education? 90210, maybe? Charmed?"

"Those are those… soap operas… aren’t they," He asked, as if pointing out a particularly nasty disease that could be transmitted through the television.

"It’s important that you understand these things. For the baby," She told him, stuffing her face with another handful of popcorn.

He grinned down at her. "These shows will be out of style long before the baby’s old enough to watch them… I hope."

Buffy whacked him, "I’ll tell you what. Compromise. We’ll watch 90210, and then we can watch one of your crappy old movies."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, "An hour of the History Channel, and Law & Order, and you’ve got yourself a deal," He said.

Buffy sat up. "Fine. But you have to give me a plot synopsis, with names, after the show’s over. No "Shelf-hair Guy" or "That blonde twit – the bulimic," She insisted.

"Deal," He said, putting his arm around her and reaching for some popcorn.