They helped her to a convenient couch in the lobby. Angel carried her, despite her vigorous protests. "Come on, Angel, it's really, it doesn't hurt that ba--aaahhah!" She clutched at her stomach. Wetness spread between her thighs.

Millicent looked perfectly calm as she felt Buffy's forehead, checked her pulse, and looked at her watch to time the contractions. She knew what she was doing here. She was in her element, such that it was.

Angel's brow was deeply furrowed. He watched his mate, with a pale face and sweat breaking out across her brow, and then he watched the rippling across her bloated stomach. He could stay here. Hold her hand through ten or twelve or twenty-four hours of labor, if that's what it took, and hold their baby in his arms when she tasted her first breath.

But at what cost? What a baby it would be. A demon child with power and the soullessness to carry out anything she wanted.

His human side and his warrior side fought for mere seconds, before the obvious winner emerged. He could not stay here. He had to go, had to fight for the life he and Buffy had created, even before she made her first cry.

He knelt next to Buffy. Millicent stood back and watched them. A look of gentle happiness crossed her face, and she hastily backed away, both to leave them alone together, and to retrieve her supplies.

Angel took Buffy's hand tightly in his own. She turned to look at him, and her eyes watered, even as she set her jaw. "You have to go," she said firmly. He smiled inwardly, pleased that she was the one to say it.

"Yes," he said. "I have to find Willow. And you have to stay here."

Her eyes teared up. "I know this isn't goodbye. I know it. But it's still so hard to let you go. What if you don't come back? What if it's like...what if it's like before? What if you just disappear into the dark and you never come back?

"And...what if I don't make it through this? Angel, lots of women don't survive childbirth, and that's normal women, women who don't have a soulless child being delivered into their arms. What if you don't make it back in time?"

Her questions ended and she scrunched up her face in pain as a contraction came over her. "OH. Ow...Angel," she sighed.

Angel rubbed his thumb across her hand agitatedly. "Buffy, I can't see the future. I don't know what will happen. But short of being killed, nothing can stop me from returning to you now. Nothing. We just have to pray that everything will work out."

He bent his head and kissed her knuckles. Then he hugged her. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. "Alright," she said. "If you're going to go, you better go now, before I get my ass up off of this couch and come with you."

Angel smiled weakly, and got to his feet.

He had no weapons. This made it easier for him to scale the rocky crags on his way to the mountain, but the lack of weight weighed heavily on his mind. He would have to rely on stealth instead of power now. He didn't even know what he was up against. The best tack, he decided, was to slip in as quickly as he could, and then get out. If he timed it right, he could make his escape and they could be gone before the gang's captors could give chase.

The rocks he climbed were some sort of hardened lava rocks. They were porous and sharp, and they gashed at his hands. The pain and the scent of his own blood only served to hurry him on his way. He used his preternatural strength and speed to scale the rock faces as quickly as physically possible.

Still, it took him hours. At every plateau, he stopped to look first forward, then back. From the outside, he could see obvious changes in the structure of the hotel. According to Milli's theory, the hotel, then, had always been in both this dimension and the other. Still, it looked oddly out of place against the barren landscape.

In contrast, the castle on the mountain looked like something out of a gothic horror novel. Frankenstein's castle, perhaps. Or Dracula's. In which case, he was perfectly happy to converse with his old-time enemy. He smiled, wishing it could be so easy.

As he got closer, he could see the distinctly metallic material that the castle was made of, as opposed to stone. He changed his theory. It wasn't like a gothic novel at all. It was a science fiction novel. No lights and no sounds emanated from inside. It was like a great, hollow shell.

As he approached, he crouched cautiously. He could see neither way in nor way out. And still there was no sign of life from the gargantuan mausoleum of a building. He reached, finally, the metallic wall. He pressed a hand against it, and was met with cold resistance. He felt along the wall for any kind of catch, any sort of opening.

He rested his cheek against the wall. "Please," he whispered, begging the thing to open. "Please."

Some dark god must have heard and answered his prayer, because just then, two blue things came out, stalking along on thick blue legs with a tail for support. They were so unique, they were unlike any demon he'd ever seen. Their muscular build was unlike anything human. He was positive now, that they were in another place, another dimension, another world. Nothing like this could ever evolve on his earth.

Stunned as he was, he still didn't miss his chance to slip along the lit doorway and into the main hall beyond. Stealth was his specialty, and speed ranked not far behind. He felt he had reason to be proud as he slid among shadows that were barely there, avoiding notice from these creatures he could barely fathom.

His next order of business to find the place where the prisoners were kept, more specifically, Xander, Willow, Giles, Dawn, and the others.

He paused for a moment to inspect the great hall he was now in. The blue-skinned beasts walked comfortably among each other, some decorated in graceful jewelry and scarves, others completely naked.

In the center of the room were two great glass cases. Gilded chains laid abandoned on the floor. Angel realized that what he was looking for were not prisoners. They were specimens, as clearly as the glass cases were display boxes.

He thanked the gods again that the cases were empty. It would have been nigh impossible to sneak people from those cases without being noticed. But this also left him at another dead-end? Should he just wander the corridors until he stumbled upon his companions? Or was there perhaps another way?

Along either side of the hallway were numerous doors. Raised up high on a sloping walkway was another doorway, leading straight ahead. Reasoning that since they were considered specimens, they would be treated well, Angel followed his theory and made his way toward the walkways.

He crept quietly and swiftly along the edge of the room, watching the shimmering blue creatures dance and mingle with each other. From the shadows, he watched. And waited. The two sloping walkways were well-lit. Too well-lit. There were too many eyes here, too many ears to hear him.

He found a secluded, dark corner and watched the proceedings silently, hoping for a lull in the activity, a chance for him to escape without being noticed.

But it seemed his luck had run out. The beings continued their festivities without fading or slowing down for hours upon hours. As Angel waited, he thought of Buffy. It had been about six hours since he had left her. Since her labor had begun.

He tried to feel for her, her presence. He didn't care if he missed the baby's arrival at this point, only that Buffy be safe. He was dangerously close to not even caring if the baby made it or not, only that Buffy did.

He waited and he waited, and these thoughts chewed each other through his brain. He couldn't stop thinking about Buffy and the baby, and he could practically feel the hours of the clock tick-tocking away, slowly counting down towards Irene's birth--or her death.

He sucked in a nervous breath. Okay. So he didn't have time to wait for them to leave anymore. So he would have to do it the hard way. By force.

A considerable task, since he didn't have weaponry of any kind. Though he missed his humanity, it was times like this that he was glad that he was a vampire again. He mapped his route quickly in his head, and prayed that the door would be unlocked.

As he climbed to his feet, he felt the stolen blood in his veins throb excitedly to his extremities. His limbs warmed up quickly, and before he knew what he was doing, he was dashing toward the door.

He didn't stop to see if the blue creatures were watching him, frankly, because he was scared. He didn't need any distractions, because who knew what was on the other side of that door?

He flitted quickly up the ramp and then slammed his full body weight against the doors. Thankfully, they were made of some sort of light-weight material that ruptured easily under Angel's formidable application of strength.

On the other side of the door, it was darker. Angel was immediately met by two guards, with ceremonial-looking spears and headdresses. It reminded Angel somewhat of the Wizard of Oz. Without even thinking, he slammed one guard to the ground, using the element of surprise and his continued momentum to his advantage. The other attempted to spear him through the back, but he twisted down and sideways, and was able to catch the other in an awkward position midway through his run.

He lifted the first guard's spear up, and while the other was down, he spun and whacked him soundly across the back of the neck with the thick shaft.

All of this took place in about thirty seconds. Before the second guard even hit the ground, Angel was off and running again.

He slowed when it appeared he wasn't being followed, but still, he walked quickly. Fortunately, there were no extraneous doors; only a large, red one at the very end of the corridor.

He reached it quickly, and though it was locked, he was able to break through this one, too. A second foyer greeted him, but amongst all the doors that he now had to choose from, his choice was obvious.

A small, unobtrusive door off to the side, which he could see through the windows led to the top of the tower. Tradition dictated that that was where he would find his old companions.

This door was unlocked. Angel allowed himself a wry grin. Obviously, the master of the castle had not expected someone to be able to break through the first two doors.

The staircase was an old-fashioned spiral stairway, built individual stones, not carved, as the rest of the place's interior had been. Angel, though, was not all that interested in the architecture. He imagined that right about now, the guards of the palace were rallying together to prevent him from escaping. He was hoping that he, as a vampire, would be a novelty to them in this dimension, thereby making his escape that much easier.

But Willow, Xander, Dawn, Tara, Anya, Giles, and God forbid, Spike, would be harder to sneak out with. Spike could hold his own. Angel knew he could now count on Willow and Giles, to some degree. But the rest were merely untrained humans, and Dawn still a child, at that. It would be harder to get out with eight than it had been to come in with one.

His strategizing took him to the top of the stairs. With frustration, he flung this final door completely off its hinges. And was relieved to see them all there, all unharmed.

Except, of course, for the fact that they were naked and emaciated. And behind bars about six inches in diameter.

To make matters worse, Angel could hear the heavy clamor of numerous footsteps coming up the stairs.