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Buffy sat incredibly still, gaping at the woman in the center of the room. Finally, she turned to Angel and burst out laughing.

"Now I *know* I'm going crazy," she said with a shake of her head.

"Hush, child," the Oracle commanded, prompting Buffy to quiet immediately. "There is much to be said."

"Yeah, and an introduction would be really nice right about now," Buffy said, unconsciously sliding closer to Angel and gripping his hand in hers. She was on edge, ready to strike the minute the situation turned hostile. Yet Angel was quiet and calm beside her, and it had a soothing effect on her

"She's one of the Oracles, Buffy," Angel said quietly, his gaze never wavering from the woman. Buffy squinted and peered at the woman once more.

"Oh, well that sure explains everything," she said exasperatedly. "What's an Oreo?"

Angel turned his intense gaze on her. "Oracle," he corrected. "They're messengers for the Powers That Be."

"The Powers?" Buffy asked, her eyes widening. "Those same Powers that called me, made me a Slayer, made you a vampire, and made our love forbidden? What, they don't make house calls so they send someone else to?" Her tone was laced with bitterness and contempt as she stared at the golden woman, who stood observing her quietly.

"She has such a beautiful soul, Warrior. I can see why you sacrificed so much for her," the Oracle said. Angel shifted on the bed, his body stiffening at her words.

"What are you talking about?" Buffy demanded, completely clueless and *not* loving it. "What's going on? And how do you know Angel?"

"It is as I said. He is the creator of those precious lives you carry inside."

"Right, and had you been present for the conversation we were just having you would know that that's impossible. Angel and I weren't together at all," Buffy said, her voice sounding unconvincing. She tightened her grip on Angel's hand. "Tell her, Angel."

"I haven't the time for such insignificant details," the Oracle scoffed. "My time is little, and there is much to say. If it is answers you seek to the questions you have, ask of who you love. He will guide you into rediscovering the truth."

"Does she always talk in riddles?" Buffy asked, leaning toward Angel. He silenced her with a look, his eyes telling her to remain quiet. Frightened at the intense look he gave her, she did as she was told.

"When we turned back time, Warrior, not all was erased. Your memories, as were the memories that your soul carries with her, remained intact. This--"

"My soul?" Angel interrupted. He furrowed his brow in confusion. "You mean Buffy? But she doesn't remember, no one but me does and--"

"She knows of it, she just cannot bring herself to admit it," she replied, her gaze shifting to Buffy. "This also was the way by which you kept your children."

"You say children...but I'm only pregnant with one child," Buffy protested, her face feeling hot and her stomach nervous. She was confused and disoriented and didn't know what to make of the being that stood before her.

"You will learn this soon enough," she said, dismissing it with her hand. "These twins which you carry are to be the ultimate weapons against evil."

Buffy froze. This was just too much. First Angel was the father, then she was pregnant with twins, and now those twins were going to spend their lives fighting evil. "Over my dead body," she hissed. "Look, lady, I don't know who you are or what you want, but you obviously don't know what you're talking about. So why don't you just--"

Angel clamped a hand over her mouth. Looking her squarely in the eye, he said, "Don't say another word until she's done." Buffy nodded mutely. "You're saying our children will have to fight evil?"

The Oracle inclined her head slightly in confirmation. "It has been prophesied, and now it is coming to pass. You were allowed to keep your children because of this. The Powers can turn back time. They cannot erase two lives as precious and important as these are."

A silence hung in the room for a long time as Buffy and Angel each tried extremely hard to process this information. Unconsciously they had moved together until Buffy was nearly sitting on his lap, desperately seeking comfort in his strong embrace. Maybe it was all just a bad dream, and when she woke up she'd be in her own bed, in her own body...

"Is anyone else confused?" she whispered, trying to keep her tone light and cheerful. She stole a glance at Angel, the man she'd somehow conceived two children with, and fought hard to keep her tears down.

"So you're saying that Buffy became pregnant that day and she kept the babies. And I'm the father," Angel said. The Oracle smiled sadly at him.

"I know it is hard for a mind as undeveloped as a human's is to understand, but I speak the truth," she replied, clasping her hands in front of her.

"But Angel and I weren't even together!" Buffy cried. "I was here for five minutes!"

"If you wish for your memories, you have to want them," the Oracle replied.

"What memories?" she asked helplessly, on the brink of tears. "What are you talking about?"

Angel pulled Buffy into his lap as she burst into tears, rocking her gently and soothing her. "Angel," she whispered, her voice muffled in his chest, "what's going on? How did we make a baby if we didn't make love?"

Angel swallowed back his own tears. "We did, Buffy, for a whole day we made love in this apartment. I can't tell you about it now, but we'll talk about it in the morning," he replied, pressing a soothing kiss to her forehead. He glanced up uncertainly to see the Oracle smiling at the two of them.

"She has her memories?" he asked. She nodded.

"They are buried beneath layers of denial and heartbreak. You must help her unearth them," the Oracle told him. He frowned.

"How am I supposed to help her?"

She shot him a look. "You know the way, Warrior, you are only too afraid to admit it. You must first recognize your fear and doubt and expel them. Only then can you offer her the help she needs." Angel was quiet for a long moment, knowing she would offer no other help.

"I thought you weren't supposed to get involved in matters of the heart," Angel wondered.

"I get involved when the fate of the world is in the balance. Take care of her, Warrior, take care of her and your children. It is your family which is the ultimate key to victory." She paused, tilting her head as though she was listening to something. "I must leave you now. But remember all I have said, for it is imperative. Your time for redemption has come, Angel," she said, using his name for the first time. Her gaze flickered over the sobbing girl in his arms. "Don't let it pass because of things that are no longer a threat."

With those words, she was gone.

Angel sat staring at the place where she had stood only moments before, absentmindedly stroking Buffy's hair to calm her down while trying to digest all she had said. He didn't feel anything, which meant he was in shock. Probably for the best, too, because he didn't want to deal with all the doubts and insecurities that were skirting around his mind. He was content to merely rock the sobbing girl in his arms and push all other thoughts of babies and Oracles out of his mind.

Several minutes passed before Angel realized Buffy had fallen asleep again, her breath coming short from her tears. He chuckled softly and shifted her so she was lying down once more, the blankets securely around her.

It was good that she had fallen asleep, she was much too disoriented and confused to deal with it all right now. Her slumber was an escape, at least for now, and he knew they would have a long and most likely painful conversation in the morning.

Angel leaned over and turned out the small light by the side of the bed, once again bathing the room in darkness. Buffy whimpered in her sleep, her arm reaching out for him. Angel took her hand and kissed it softly, placing it on his chest and drawing her to him.

Gazing down at the sleeping girl, he realized that it had happened. He hadn't dared even think it, but their love had produced a child. Two, in fact. The day was not forgotten, and it HAD happened, and now they had proof.

He'd given her children. They were going to have two babies.

Angel nuzzled Buffy's cheek with his softly, so as not to wake her. He pressed another kiss to the side of her lips before resting his cheek against hers.

A tear of joy slipped down his cheek to mingle with hers as he joined her in sleep.

An insistent knocking on the door roused Giles from the slumber he'd slipped into sometime during the night. With a start he awoke, his feet falling from their resting place on his desk to the floor ungracefully as he sat up. Glancing blearily at the door, he mumbled angrily as he ran a hand over his eyes and through his disheveled hair.

"Unless the end of the world is coming, I don't want to hear it," he grumbled as he pulled the door open to find Spike standing on the doorstep. Giles looked at the vampire in surprise, which quickly turned to suspicion when he realized who it was. "What do you want?"

"Is that the way to greet an old enemy?" Spike teased from the doorstep. Giles shot him a look of annoyance.

"As a rule, yes," he muttered, sliding his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Why are you here?"

Spike strolled past him into the living room and looked around as though he owned it. Giles shook his head and slammed the door shut. "Just thought you should know that Goldilocks appears to be embracing her inner bitchiness, and it's shoved her outer bitchiness out of the way and bloody taken over."

"Is it really *that* difficult for you to speak normally?" Giles asked, going into the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water. Spike helped himself to a shot of whiskey from the liquor cabinet.

"Something ain't right with her, mate," he said as he downed it quickly. "She's all...loose. And I mean that literally." Giles furrowed his brow before realizing that Spike had met up with Faith in Buffy's body.

"Loose?" he repeated, sliding into his arm chair and trying unsuccessfully to suppress his yawn.

"She was all slutty, very un-bug-up-her-ass-like. Maybe Peaches leaving finally got to her and she cracked," Spike smirked, pouring himself another shot.

"Hey, that's my bloody liquor you're drinking," Giles snapped. Spike grinned and downed it quickly.

"I know. You really need to get some better taste, Watcher, you should be ashamed of yours. No true Englishman would drink this crap."

"I believe you just did," he replied, pulling off his glasses. "Now, what did Buffy say to you, exactly?"

Spike sank into the couch slowly, extending both his arms to rest on the back of it before speaking. "I don't really remember. Must be old age," he said with a grin. Giles sighed, extremely frustrated, and began pacing the room. "Geez, Watcher, don't get your tweed in a twist." He rolled his eyes at Giles' impatience. "She was going on about how she wasn't a whore and how I wanted her. Real bloody likely, let me tell you. She was also yammering about how the eyes were the windows to the soul...I think she's starting to loose it. Maybe Captain Farmboy isn't having such a good influence on our little Slayer."

"She didn't say anything else? Anything about Angel, perhaps?" Giles asked, fingering one of his books. Spike rolled his eyes.

"No, she didn't mention Peaches' name. Does she even acknowledge the big poof's existence? That kind of denial can't be good for her," he admonished, making a "tsk"-ing sound for show. "She also seemed off her rocker a bit--although now that I think about it she doesn't have a rocker. Maybe all that peroxide is finally going to her head..."

"Will you stop your yammering for one damn minute?!" Giles cried, throwing a frustrated glance at the vampire. "Go wallow over how you can't bite anyone while I think."

"Hey!" Spike retorted defensively. "I don't wallow. It's not my bloody fault I can't bite anyone. Doesn't make me any less scary!"

"Right, and the fact that you came to a Watcher's home to talk about a Slayer, whom I'm beginning to think you have a bit of a crush on, makes you even scarier," Giles said dryly. "Which bring up an interesting point--why *are* you here?"

Spike shrugged. "Thought you'd like to know that Little Mary Sunshine appears to be having a bit of a rain storm right now. She does keep the bloody world turning, after all."

"Why Spike," Giles teased, "is that concern in your voice for our little Buffy?" Spike snorted.

"Hardly. I just figure that if her perfect little world of denial is gonna come crashing down it would be quite the show.," he retorted, sinking into the couch a bit more.

"Faith switched bodies with Buffy," Giles said, his tone suddenly serious. Spike sat up straight at the news.

"You mean that she was acting that way because she was that Faith chick?" He snapped his fingers in disappointment. "And here I was thinking that she had gone out and gotten herself a leather wardrobe and a good personality because she was embracing her inner Angelus."

Giles flipped through an old book. "Hardly," he said, skimming the text. "Buffy, in Faith's body, is in L.A. with Angel right now. We must find a way to switch them back, and then we must somehow get Faith and take her to L.A. to perform the ritual."

"Blondie's with Peaches?" Spike laughed. "Wonder how long it'll be before they're shagging each other rotten."

Giles spared him a look. "Buffy and Angel are perfectly able to control themselves," he said, discarding one book for another.

"Right, and I actually like the two of them," Spike replied with a snort. "When're you all gonna realize that the two of them are gonna be in love until it either kills them or they kill each other? Well, actually with their luck they'd probably pull a Romeo and Juliet and kill themselves..."

"Are you done?" Giles asked, suppressing a yawn. Spike swung his feet up onto the coffee table in response. "You *can* show yourself out, you know. I think it would be rather embarrassing for you if I were to throw you out."

Spike chuckled. "Sun just came up, old man. I can't leave for about thirteen hours."

Giles narrowed his eyes. "And *why* would you want to stay here when you hate being involved with anything to do with us?"

"Getting the crypt fumigated and had no place else to go," Spike said, toeing off his boots and swinging his legs up onto the couch.

"Fumigating your crypt?! I won't even ask...Don't you have some demon friend you could stay with instead?" Giles asked, going over to his desk and rummaging through the papers. Spike shook his head.

"I'd rather stay here and bug the hell out of you," he said with a grin.

"Should I feel honored or just annoyed?"

Spike ignored him as he continued. "Plus I haven't seen Passions in weeks. Need to keep up with my soaps. Reading that Soap Opera Digest doesn't help," he said, pulling a blanket over his head. Giles noticed that he seemed quite content to just take over his apartment...

"Yes, God forbid you should go without your dose of horrendous American television. It's not like you don't get enough of those bloody soaps from watching Buffy and her friends," Giles muttered as he tramped upstairs to get a few hours of sleep. Researching when the letters were fuzzy and indecipherable was futile at best. "You know where everything is. No demonic sacrifices while I'm sleeping," he called. Spike's snort of agreement barely reached his ears.

"Why do I put up with him?" Giles wondered aloud. "I should just stake him, probably get a bloody medal for it..."

Spike cracked one eye when he realized he was alone in the living room. Looking around, he blinked in surprise.

"He actually sleeps?! Talk about being disappointed...How come he never slept before?!"

Faith rolled over, still half-asleep. She snuggled up against the silk body pillow that lay next to her on the huge bed and wrapped her arm around it, pulling it flush against her naked, stolen body. The rays of sun streaming through the open window bathed her face in warm light, and she buried her face in the pillow to escape them.

Her eyes opened in half-silts as she took a moment to gather her bearings. She was in her apartment...Looking down, a small smile spread across her lips.

She was in Buffy's body.

"Good, at least it wasn't a dream," she muttered, pulling the covers over her head. "God, does every day in this freakin' town have to be sunny? A little rain every now and then would do them some good..."

Her dark mood was forgotten when her stomach whirled, and she fought a wave of nausea down. It persisted, and with a hand to her mouth she shot out of bed and raced to the bathroom.

Faith threw up violently, hunched over the toilet. When she was done, the weak legs that had been supporting her gave out and she collapsed to the floor, leaning heavily on the toilet. Faith spit to rid her mouth of the awful taste and reached up to flush, rubbing her hand over Buffy's stomach in the process.

"What the hell was that? It's not like I had bad Mexican or something..." she trailed off, her voice echoing in the tiled room. Her hand stopped at the gentle bump where Buffy's tight abs had once been, and she looked down in disbelief as a slow grin spread across her face.

"Oh, this is too good to be true...Little Miss Perfect, knocked up? Now this is something I can work with..."