(Part 4: Homecomings)

Despite what had managed to be another exceptionally brutal ship ride, Spike was downright chipper as he crashed the rent-a-car right through the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign, shrugging not-at-all-apologetically, "Sorry love, Tradition."

"Why am I not surprised? Just Spike wreaking havoc on unsuspecting inanimate objects again," came the reply from next to him.

Shaking his head, Spike spared a glance from the road to study Darla. Her reply was more teasing and less malicious than most the duo had shared, but they'd come to a sort of understanding as of late. Several months together, the removal of one chip, and the saving of one only-really-supernatural baby tended to forge strange bonds. After all, stranger things had happened. "Never thought I'd be glad to see SunnyHell."

Darla smirked, but let the comment slide. Curled up on her side of the, quite roomy actually, luxury vehicle, she glanced out the window and attempted to get comfortable despite her incredibly large seven-month stomach making things difficult.

Soon enough they'd reached the cemetery, crashing the car recklessly through gravestones to stop by Spike's crypt. Thankful that her nausea had long since abated, Darla swung the car door open, reaching for her bag. Spike appeared to help her out of the car, as it was somewhat difficult for her to maneuver, vampire-reflexes be damned, before grabbing his own bag.

Swinging his door open with the customary bang, Spike called out, "Clem, honey, I'm home." Waiting for his demon friend to appear all nervous and irritated.

No Clem appeared. Instead, emerging from the bottom level of his crypt was a very brassed off Slayer, "Do you have any idea how crazy Dawn's been driving me while you were off running errands!"

Spike's bag fell to the ground with a thump, as the Slayer finally managed to look up, her jaw dropping from any one of many combinations. "Slayer. Really, meant to call. Been a little," he paused, glancing between the two blondes, "busy."

It was a lame excuse and Spike knew it, given the situation. Darla, never one to make a bad situation better, smirked at Spike, "Really, I don't see what you find so appealing about her, William. The open-mouthed look is a tad mundane, isn't it?" She turned back to Buffy, who was still staring at her with some horror. "Oh, don't look so scandalized. It's Angel's."

Blows delivered Darla waited for Buffy to snap out of her shock, which occurred quite quickly. Buffy took one look at the two vampires and withdrew a stake from the recesses of her coat, "Okay, so somebody better start making sense before I go all Slayer and stake the vampires. Because I'm kinda stuck on alive, how? And baby, how? No, wait, don't answer that."

Stepping in front of Darla protectively, Spike put his hands up, "No need for that, pet. You and I can sit down and have a heart to heart and I'll tell you all about Africa… Darla'll be out of your hair in no time. Gonna pay the Poof a visit."

"I'm even on my best behavior," Darla smirked, setting down her bag and moving towards Spike's fridge, uncaring of the Slayer and her little wooden toys. Spike could handle it and, if not, Darla was strong enough to take care of herself.

Shaking her head at the surreal world she had apparently been thrown in, Buffy shot back, "And I'm buying this because of the surprise lobotomy?"

Banking on a cheap ploy, Spike sighed. "Look at her, Slayer, does she really look in any condition to harm anything? We're just stocking up, then we'll be on our merry way, and you can forget Darla was even here." He lowered his voice, approaching Buffy, "You're not going to hurt her, love. Nobody is. Don't let's make it an issue, yeah?"

Sitting down heavily on Spike's sarcophagus, not letting go of her stake for a moment, Buffy nodded. "I need a drink." She took in the two blonde vampires, one very pregnant. "And, did you say Africa?"

It had taken a hell of a lot of convincing to get Buffy to forgive him, for the Africa trip, for Darla's presence, for not having his chip and for not being evil. It was finally Dawn who won her over, informing her sister that, if Spike went away again, Dawn would personally be holding Buffy accountable.

And pointing out that Spike had been "So not evil" for a long time, chip or no.

Buffy hadn't been happy. She still wasn't. Especially about Spike's chip, or lack thereof. But damnit, he was her vampire and she'd missed him and he'd promised that she could kick his ass if he got out of line. She was holding out judgment on the Darla issue until they got to L.A. and had a 'heart to heart' with Angel.

Who had never mentioned any of this. No call to say, "Hey, my sire's undead again, just thought I'd let you know." But then, Angel had never been big on conversation.

Which meant that the three blondes, two of them bottled, two of them vampires, and one of them pregnant were stuck in the luxury rent-a-car together, on their way to the City of Angels, or one in particular.

Darla was sprawled out in back, wrapped up in Spike's duster, resting. She had been, insults aside, amazingly indifferent to Buffy's presence, which both surprised Buffy and went a long way towards convincing her that the world had ended without her notice. She wondered if this counted as an apocalypse.

Buffy was up front, Spike driving. They had managed alone time, time where they had actually talked in between insults and Spike had shown Buffy blood bags, promising that his chiplessness was only for defense, and that he would even sit in a room with Xander for a whole day and not harm him to prove it.

However, Buffy had not yet informed her friends of the situation, waiting to see how some of it settled out, and so she put a rain check on the idea. Dawn had been thrilled at Spike's return, and Buffy couldn't deny that three months was a long time to think. It was long enough to realize that life, despite its trials, was actually worth living, and that Buffy had not been entirely herself when she'd first come back.

She'd been bad to Spike, unfair, and Buffy was realizing that it was time to make amends. She'd decided to give Spike the chance to prove himself - once Darla was actually gone and things had settled down.

So, when she reached out her hand, tentatively settling it on Spike's bare arm, he was surprised. But very, very pleased. They exchanged a nod and slight smile before Buffy caught the sight of headlights and squealed, "Road! Road. Watch the road!"

Smirking, Spike swerved out of the way of the semi and continued his breakneck pace, "Got everything under control. Don't get your knickers in a twist, Slayer."

"Well, excuse me. Some of us can actually die, you know." Buffy swatted his arm.

From the back, Darla laughed, "Oh, you should have seen the ride here. This is Spike driving safely."

With that thought to make Buffy pale, she closed her mouth, concentrating on not looking at the scenery blurring past and remembering that this meant they'd be in L.A. sooner rather than later.

Angel was enjoying a peaceful evening at home, not out fighting any slimy monsters, as the Makkocks were most definitely gone in a fiery blaze of glory. The thought was almost enough to make Angel giddy, as it had taken months to wipe out all the nests.

Wesley's estimates had proved slightly optimistic, as there had ended up being some sort of convention and several strains of Makkocks to wipe out. But they were finally gone. Along with a number of other nasty demons that they had run into along the way.

The others had taken the night off, and Angel was quite content to do the same. He felt he'd earned it.

An engine roared by outside, cutting dead. Barely had Angel blinked at this unexpected development, when the door to the hotel banged roughly open and a gratingly familiar voice blared out, "Oi, Wanker, get up here."

Ignoring the headache that was beginning to form already and sending a hopeless look up, The Powers That Be had a really sick sense of humor sometimes, Angel set down his book, careful not to lose his place, and headed toward the lobby.

The door was quite off its hinge, having been knocked in despite the locks. That was not, however, the most surprising sight to greet Angel's tired eyes.

Actually, he couldn't decide what the most surprising sight was. That Spike was there and hadn't tried to harm him yet. That Buffy was there, and looked nonplussed. Or that Darla was there. With Spike. And Buffy. All of them.

Then Darla stepped out into better light, smirking, "Hello, lover."

Okay, the fact that Darla was there, apparently pregnant was definitely the most shocking. Angel blinked. "Wh-how?"

Before Darla could make some inappropriate comment, which Angel, admittedly, had left himself wide open for, Spike piped in. "Who bloody knows. All sorts of mumbo-jumbo mystical bollocks. The usual, Peaches." At the twin glares he received, Spike shrugged, "Don't mind the Slayer and I, we're just here to make sure there's no bodily harm."

"And to get answers," Buffy cut in.

Angel could only nod stupidly. "Answers would be good." But one look at Darla, and he knew that she didn't have any.

With a deep sigh, Darla came towards Angel and away from the relative support that Spike offered. "This baby, Angel, is going to be the one good thing we've done together." She smirked, "It's human and it's ours, and that's as much as fifteen shamans and some African demon have been able to tell me."

And Angel wasn't really sure what kind of response he was expected to have, but he was sure that - if it could beat - his heart would have stopped. "Darla-"

He reached his arms out, and she gratefully collapsed into them - the toll of the pregnancy and hormones and emotions winning out over her normally calm demeanor. When Angel looked up over the top of Darla's head, Buffy and Spike were gone - there were no answers to be found here today.

Feeling the swollen body against him, the smell that was undeniably Darla, the rush of a heartbeat that shouldn't be there, Angel was overwhelmed, kissing the top of Darla's head without thinking of it. "Shh, Darlin', we'll figure this out together."

It wasn't a declaration of love, but neither had been expecting such. It was the best Angel could offer, that he wanted this child, theirs, to be their one good thing. Maybe their opportunity for atonement. They still had a couple of months to figure it out, anyway.

The End