Buffy smiled brightly, wiggling her bottom on Angel’s lap. “You know… this whole thing has worked out lots better than I ever expected it to. I mean, I had a fairly nice life in Rome, met tons of interesting people and never had to worry about Dawn. But I missed the old and familiar.”

“Hey!” Angel jostled her teasingly. “Is that any way to talk to the man you love? Calling him old and familiar?”

“I guess not,” she giggled. “The ‘old’ certainly fits. It’s just the ‘familiar’ I’m not so sure about anymore.”

Angel frowned. “What do you mean, I’m not ‘familiar’ anymore? I haven’t changed. Vampire, remember?”

She reached out to touch his face, willing herself to appear happy and carefree. “It’s not so much your appearance, though I do have to mention all that yummy otter blood you go on about? Must be richer than pig ‘cause you’ve filled out a little from our earlier days.”

Angel laughed out loud. “Are you telling me I’ve lost my girlish figure? Buffy, I’m hurt.”

“Nah… well, just a little. Then again, I’ve put on a couple of pounds, too.” Which she emphasized by once again bouncing lightly on his lap. ~Think of Spike, think of Spike, think of Spike~ a mantra running through her mind. It was the only way she could do this, especially feeling the way – he – was starting to react to her wiggling. But if her little lap dance was enough to keep Angel off kilter… It wouldn’t do to have the supposed vamp in her life smell the other vamp in her life on her – damned vampire bloodhound.

Angel’s big hands kneaded at the curves of her waist. “Oh yeah, you’re just breaking my… lap with all that extra poundage bouncing around. I’m sure we can figure out a way to work it off,” he mused with a lazy, indulgent smile. “So tell me, how am I unfamiliar to you?”

She smiled brightly. “Well, first of all, you’re not quite the Broody McBroodypants you used to be. You smile and laugh, and at the party you threw for me… us? You were quite the social butterfly.”

“And this is a bad thing?”

“Again with the ‘no.’ It’s just part of the not familiar.” She stifled a sigh, wondering how to get the conversation back on track. “You’re making me sorry I brought it up in the first place. I’m losing my happy mood.”

He shrugged. “Don’t fret, Buff. We can always pick apart my differences another time. Why don’t you just tell me about your day?”

“Oh yeah.” She bounced again, determined to keep him going. “I’ve gotta tell you how happy I am that you had Lorne show me around. He’s sweet. And we had so much in common. We talked about clothes and shoes, which was all of the good. That demon’s got a wicked sense of style.”

Angel was amused. “So, you ladies had your girl talk. What else did you do? That certainly didn’t take up the entire day.”

Buffy shook her head. “Nope, not even close. God, we must have talked for hours! Lorne was worried about his ex-boyfriend, and I got to talking about my exes. I told him there was no way I’d be as kindhearted as he was in taking an ex into my home to nurse back to health.” She pretended to pout. “He laughed at me, Angel! He said I’d just have to see how sweet his ex was, and took me home to meet him.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Lorne would bring home every stray he meets. He’s too kind hearted for his own good, Buff. I think this Ramone he’s got holed up is the one who ran off with his money a couple of years ago. You must have been bored out of your mind, meeting this guy.”

Angel stopped, tilting his head as if he’d suddenly come across a puzzle that he wanted to solve. He nuzzled the left side of Buffy’s neck, relishing her increased heartbeat, her arousal… and the something else that had caught his attention. Something he couldn’t quite place… “Buff, did you run into someone we know, by any chance? Or come up against a demon? There’s a strange scent coming from you that I just can’t place.”

“Eeeew, Angel! How many times have I told you that scenty-thing you do is way creepy?” Buffy made a moue of disgust. “You did it to me that last night in Sunnydale – with Spike. It made me feel like a peed on hydrant. If you wanna know why I smell weird, it’s ‘cause Lorne served some lovely refreshments but the cheesecake decided to come back and take a bow. Eau de Vomit Buffy – that’s me. I’ll be all right, thanks ever so for asking.”

Angel winced, but hid it quickly. “It’s alright, Lover,” he soothed. “I’m sorry if I upset you. Are you feeling better? No more tummy ache?”

~It’s now or never, Buffy. Get the show on the road. Sarah Bernhardt, eat your heart out!~

Buffy nestled into his lap and looked up at him, endearing as a child. “Angel, we need to talk. I’ve got to put some issues behind me before embracing our future together as a family.”

She stroked the side of his face, all the while keeping eye contact. “It’s been a bad year for me, Angel. You know that. I’ve spent hours on the phone with you, crying over my losses. I’ve missed Mom and Tara. Their graves were a comfort to me. I’ve missed all the little girls who died in our cause, and we have nothing to remember them by. Now, I want to talk about you.”

She sighed. “The oddest thing is, I miss Anya and Spike so much. Brave and loyal, no matter how badly we treated them for years. I was so proud of them both.”

Lifting her tear-streaked face, she asked, “Did you ever mourn for your son?”

Angel swallowed his panic. Surely she had no idea… “My son? I never had any children, Buff. It’s part of why I broke up with you all those years ago – so you could have a normal life with someone who could give you children.”

“But I don’t understand.” Buffy pulled out all the stops, fluttering her lashes and letting tears shine through. “Spike told me when a vampire Sires another vampire, he becomes a childe. And the Sire is the Father or Mother. Don’t you miss your children, Angel? Dru, and Spike? How can you feel any peace at all, not knowing where one is, and knowing that the other is dust from saving all of us.?

“With all we’ve been through, family is the most important thing to me. You and I are now the heads of our respective families. My father doesn’t count, which means it’s just me and Dawnie. You’ve only got Drusilla, wherever she might be. What I want to know, is have you ever mourned Spike’s passing? Have you ever honored his sacrifice – or the fact that he more than likely saved you from disintegrating?”

Angel shrugged his shoulders. “He’s dust, Buffy. Gone and forgotten. Who’s going to mourn a dead parasite?”

Buffy was horrified, and couldn’t hide it even to keep her plan going. “How can you say that? Even the Scoobies had a memorial service in his honor. Giles, even. And he’s your childe. As close to a son as you’ll ever have. Spike told me it wasn’t your cuckoo-bird Drusilla who turned him, but you. Doesn’t that make you responsible? Shouldn’t you care if he’s undead or gone? Why aren’t you proud of his accomplishments?”

Angel’s expression shifted from amiable to irritated. “I don’t get what the big deal is, Buff. Dru is off somewhere, doing her own thing like countless other vampires. Spike is dust. Gone. Finito! He was a murderous bastard, and now he’s gone. One less blight I unleashed on the world that I have to worry about these days. What’s the big deal to you?”

Buffy kneeled up on the chair, her thighs straddling the vampire’s lap. “You really have no clue, do you?” she growled. “What it means to have family… to be a part of a family… to take care of your family above all other things?”

Reaching behind her back in her most practiced move, Buffy withdrew a wooden stake from the casing sewn into the waistband of her skirt. She drew back her arm, and plunged the stake into Angel’s chest.

“I do this in the name of your childe, Spike!”