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Thank you once again to spikeskat for the beta! this chapter is for lilmamaday, my very first friend in the fandom when I first started posting on ff.net (seems like forever ago, but really only about a year and a half) Happy birthday Dana, albeit a little late!! *warning- this chapter isn't as Spike/Buffy centric as most of the others*
Chaper 19
***
When Angel had received word from Giles while he was en route to the secret military installation, he had been certain that the rescue mission would be fraught with peril. There were too many unknown variables to ensure a smooth, risk-free extraction. But the brooding vampire knew why his assistance was needed.

He was the back-up plan - set in motion by Giles after having discovered the Council's agenda for handling the matter of retrieving “their” slayer. The very fact that the watcher had gone to the trouble of sneaking into the cramped aircraft bathroom in hopes of not being overheard, Angel knew that he, too, was anticipating trouble.

Angel was also well aware that of the small group who had assisted Buffy in the past, he was the only one who could be considered expendable - at least from the watcher's way of thinking. And the vampire found himself oddly all right with his mentality. It was for Buffy, after all.

Angel had, however, been taken by surprise by Xander's insistence in accompanying him. Not even his graphic, and no doubt a very realistic picture of what was most likely to occur had done a thing to dissuade the boy. There was an air of determination, an unfailing hope that his friend was still alive, that had resided within the teen since Buffy's disappearance first came to light. That they were so close to having her back, Xander had refused to take a back seat and wait patiently for her return.

The usually annoying teen had responded to his every argument with the same steely-toned delivered mantra. "I'm helping Buffy with or without your help."

Eventually, Angel had stopped trying to discourage him, a grudging respect replacing his typical lack of tolerance for the teenager.

It had especially come as quite a shock that Xander had turned out to be a help rather than the expected hindrance in the frenzied planning stages of their assignment. His attention to detail and foresight of possible surveillance scenarios had been shrugged off as residual knowledge from Halloween, but Angel had the distinct feeling that it went deeper than that.

Whatever the source, Xander's suggestions were appropriate, and his idea for the rescue vehicle had been truly inspirational. Through Willy, they were able to arrange things quite easily. After a few terse questions early on that Xander answered almost as if by rote, Angel had stopped testing him at every turn. He’d quickly realized what a valuable asset the boy was, and set aside his pettiness and got down to the business of planning Buffy’s rescue. Plus, it was nice having someone to share in the decision making.

And also having someone to share the potential for failure.

Because if they were unsuccessful, that meant they had failed Buffy. And being able to shoulder the blame with someone else was something that would be both welcomed and potentially necessary.
 

Using the information that Giles had passed along, Xander and Angel had been able to narrow down the location of the base to a specific area. Once arriving by chartered aircraft to said location, they'd obtained the truck they had made arrangements to have waiting for them. With no other resources available, the pair had employed Angel's keen sense of smell and the begrudging aid of the sire's bond the vampire shared with Spike to navigate them towards the correct destination.

It had been a primitive tracking measure, but it had been successful, nonetheless. After traveling miles into the desert, the pair had encountered the unembellished energy plant. To the outside person, the grounds looked empty and auspicious. But to Xander and Angel, well... they had looked past the benign ruse and seen the place for what it really was.

A lie.

Before their oversized vehicle had even come to a complete stop, Xander and Angel had found themselves accosted by what were clearly soldiers in plainclothes, forcing Angel to fully embrace the role of the bumbling fool to buy them some time.

But when Angel's sensitive ears had caught the sound of a military alert being sounded from beneath them, he had a very good idea what had caused it.

Buffy.

The barked orders on the concealed radios the soldiers wore confirmed it.


Easily pushing away years of crushing guilt and his desperate need to atone for his past atrocities, Angel had not even hesitated in bringing his demon to the surface. When one of the guards had reached for his radio and weapon, the vampire tapped into his killer instincts, and had easily taken the lives of the men before him.

When the silence of pulsing heartbeats had greeted his ears, Angel had dropped the last body before daring to meet Xander's gaze, sure he would find condemnation and disgust.

Instead, he had been greeted with a look of admiration and relief, and Angel couldn't help the small, conspiratorial smile that had lit across his distorted features.

Xander had returned it with one of his own.

Moving in unison, the unlikely pair of heroes took their place back in their getaway vehicle and proceeded to ram the gate, again using Angel's vampiric bond as their homing beacon.

What Xander hadn't expected was for Angel to suddenly accelerate to an excessive rate of speed and slam through an outbuilding, a ramp now revealed that headed down into the bowels of the unknown.

"Uh, do you know something that you aren't sharing here?" Xander asked, his seat belt becoming a priority as the truck flew around a corner.

"I think they need help," was the only cryptic response Xander received. And rather than dig for details, he had thought it far wiser to allow Angel's concentration to be focused on keeping all four tires on the ground. Or at least making sure they returned to the ground in a timely manner, as the truck lurched to the side while Angel spun them around another sharp curve and down the seemingly endless circular roadway.

Angel had felt his grandchilde’s panic, could practically feel it crawling through his skin and infecting every non-living cell in his body. He didn't even bother to identify the cause, just knew instinctively that time was of the essence.

The dark-haired vampire knew they were headed in the right direction when the feeling had intensified, his face settling into a grim, determined mask as he prepared himself to execute the last curve - and for what might lie just beyond it. His senses were now extended to their fullest capacity and almost painful with the sheer intensity of his focus.

The truck screeched around the last corner, the inner sanctum of this military now breeched by their attempt at heroism.

But he could honestly say that there was nothing that would have prepared him for the reality of the scene that was to play out before him in seemingly slow motion.

With the truck protesting its rough handling with a plume of smoke near its back tires, the smell of burnt rubber clogging the air, Angel brought the truck to a grinding halt, his eyes searching and accessing.

And then he saw it.

Spike.

Running.

Arms fully laden.

With Buffy.

And the oddity didn't end there. Angel recognized Quentin Travers, head of the Watchers Council, hot on Spike's heels - and in an apparently non-lethal manner.

Angel wasn't surprised to see Giles in this odd group, but an instant of confusion dared to infiltrate his brain at noting that Spike wasn't the only one with arms laden, Giles' own damsel apparently military and unconscious.

Time to find that out later.
 
Angel exchanged a look with Xander, and in unison, the two burst from the truck, weapons in hand and ready to do battle. It only took an instant to realize that there was a group of soldiers in hot pursuit, and when bullets began to fly past him, Angel felt his face change and he roared, throwing himself into the fray.

Nobody took shots at those he cared about.

   He watched as Spike managed to successfully dodge the incoming fire, the bullets whizzing by his head more of a warning – a means to make them stop - than an actual intent to do harm. Even at this late stage, Angel would bet his very last fang that this group of misguided military wouldn't want to jeopardize the viability of the baby that Buffy was obviously still carrying.

"Get in the back," Angel yelled as Spike neared, throwing open the back doors to the armored truck that had thus far served adequately.

"Go help the watcher with the girl," Spike called out as he passed his grandsire and with one last graceful maneuver, leapt inside the back of the truck before collapsing to the floor in pure exhaustion. He didn't need to hear Buffy's whimpers to know that he had caused her considerable pain during their mad dash, and only hoped that he had not caused undue damage in his less-than-gentle treatment ever since escaping with her nestled tightly in his arms.

Xander shouldered his rifle confidently while covering Angel as the vampire dashed toward the struggling watcher to relieve him of his unconscious burden. Even he could hear the pounding of feet as the soldiers began to close the scant distance between them, his eyes narrowing in anticipation. No way would failure be an option when they were so close to seeing this mission through.

Xander grinned inwardly at his entirely military mentality and rushed forward to assist a severely out of breath Giles. The military training from the previous year had been lurking in the deepest recesses of his mind, and was now screaming though him with an awareness that brought everything into startling focus.

These soldiers rushing towards them were the enemy.

With Giles' arm slung over his shoulder, Xander half-dragged the man to the back of the truck, noting idly that JerkWad Travers had already made it inside. Using little finesse, Xander practically threw the watcher into the welcoming interior, not caring that he landed in a sprawled heap atop of the unconscious soldier.

Per the tentative plan they had made, Xander hopped in the back while Angel raced around to the cab, throwing himself behind the wheel.

"Hang on," Angel shouted, the huge truck roaring to life from its previous idle, and with a screech of tires, Angel steered them towards the ramp that would take them out of this hellhole.

A grim silence had prevailed in the interior of the large, bullet proof truck, adrenaline and pure exhaustion overwhelming.

"Shut the door!" Giles managed to gasp to Xander, not quite registering the significance of his presence.

"Not yet. Got one last little thing to do," Xander announced determinedly, lifting up the bench seat and grabbing the special weapon he had stashed there.

He leveled it to his shoulder, the confidence with which he handled the grenade launcher bringing about a few surprised looks.

Xander waited until he heard the tell-tale screech of rubber than signified the military's pursuit before discharging his weapon, his precision belying his teenaged years. The doors to the back of the truck were then slammed shut, effectively decreasing the possibility of being hit by flying shrapnel.

Xander's intended target was destroyed, and the smile that brightened his features was wide and smug as he witnessed the most convenient method of exiting the base explode into a cloud of pure orange fury.

The blast rocked the truck, but the vehicle's heavy weight kept it well-grounded, and they continued on their way.

To freedom.
 
Pride clearly etched on Xander's face, he gave Giles a self-satisfied smile. "You know, I almost wish I could send your old buddy, Ethan, a thank-you card. I just can't tell you how useful all my retained military information from Halloween has been."

Giles managed a weary, rueful smile. "Yes, quite."

With the adrenaline coursing through his veins now ebbing, Xander was suddenly hit with the blinding reality of the situation. They had succeeded. Or were well on their way to that success, anyway.

He and Angel had beaten the odds.

They had gotten Buffy back.

As if by their own accord, Xander's eyes greedily searched out his friend, desperate to assure himself of her wellbeing. And upon seeing her huddled form, he was forced to accept the truth.

Buffy was pregnant. As in, VERY pregnant.

He had known that, of course. But the visual held so much more impact than his imagined musings of Buffy with a flat belly.

A sharp cry from the girl in question effectively served to tear his eyes away from the abdomen that was anything but flat, to the contorted grimace of her face.

And he suddenly wished he had never looked.

Because this girl, one of his best friends, who had also happened to star in many of his personal fantasies, wasn't just pregnant. There appeared to be a disturbing lack of clothing involved, her form barely covered by the tweed jacket that was of the ugly and familiar.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

She was in labor.

a/n-yes I know, highly Xander and Angel centric. But I thought the 'story' would be told best through their point of view. Thank you to all of those who helped me through my paranoia!!





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