Title: Little Debbie (parts 10 to the very end...)
From: Angel, early season 3
Warnings: None, couple of words here and there. No spoilers, unless you haven't seen the show.
Rating: PG-13, or whatever the "local" equivalents are.


"Good morning, Wesley. Rested?" Angel hid his laughter. He'd already heard reports from Cordelia about Wesley's difficult time with the baby.

  "No, not at all. It took forever to get Debbie to sleep. Jason tried to help, but he was absolutely shattered and fell asleep around midnight." Angel poured himself and Wesley each a cup of coffee. "Angel, there is something not quite right about all this. I'm not sure what, however. Where's Cordelia?"

"Went to check on a lead about the parents. Wait," Angel turned to him, "you're sure the window's secure?"

"Yes. And she can’t get out of the cot. She's already tried; that's what started her all-night tantrum." Wesley took the cup and gazed wearily into it. "Reviewing the information, I don't completely understand why the Council is after Debbie."

"You don't think she's Slayer material?"

"Indeed, she well might be. She's certainly agile enough, especially for a toddler. And she's bloody obstinate." Wesley wandered around the reception area. "But she's still so young."

Angel watched Wesley pace as he drank the coffee. "You're the expert."

"Hardly," he snorted.

"Facts, then. We've got a little girl who is incredibly strong for a toddler. You tested her, and Cordelia and I both were subjected to demonstrations. She's faster than a cockroach, to quote Jason. We all saw her bolt for the stairs yesterday, the minute the door opened. She's extremely attentive to detail. She's like a hawk when she watches us."

"Very predatory. Especially around you," Wesley grinned. "She's quite keen on you, Angel."

"Yes, I've noticed and take little comfort from it. So, what doesn't fit?"

"Why didn’t the mother take her? Why send Jason out? A ten-year old with a baby?" Wesley stopped and looked at a stenographer's notebook next to the computer. He picked it up and stared. "When did you find this out?"

"Find what out?"

"That Jason and Debbie are Council family?"


"Travers. Their grandmother was Judith Travers. Quentin Travers' sister. She and her husband resigned from the Council and disappeared. But I never knew his name." Wesley threw the notebook down again and rubbed the back of his neck. "You sent Cordelia to check on them?"

"Yes, the description matched the photograph Kate left. Gunn's with her. I told them to bring the parents back."

"I don't like this, Angel. I suggest we get the children out of here."

"Please tell me," desperation was etched across Angel's face, "you don't mean wake her up?!"


"What are they doing now?"

"Talking. The kid got up and some other guy is there. She's done talking on her cell phone."

"Let me know if she moves."

"What now, Dad?" Bernard watched his sister, who joined her husband at the window.

"She's a hooker, Jacob. Get her number, you'll need one," Natalie snarked.

Bernard chuckled, "Natalie. Give it a rest."

"Shit! She's coming into the hotel."

"Right, we'll hear her out. If she's Council—"

"Oh, get off it, you lot. She's got a john and she's coming in to let him have a poke."

"Natalie, we're serious."

"So am I." Natalie groaned and flopped down on the bed. "I want my children and if you three flipping idiots do not come up with a plan to find them within thirty minutes, I'm going to the police."

"And tell them what?"

"That some men came and threatened my family. My son took my baby and ran. What the hell else?" She started at the knock on the door. "Someone going to get that, or are you hoping she's really Sabrina in disguise?"

Jake moved to the door and cautiously opened it.

The woman pulled her sunglasses down and looked at the tall brunet before her. "Oh, wow. Your wife must have the blond hair, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did you know your daughter has the most amazing grip? And teeth! Well, eight teeth, anyway."

"Is this a code?"

Natalie flung the door open. "Where are my children?"

"Yeah, broadcast it. Can I come in? I have to … you know."


Wesley jogged down the stairs. "Jason has assured me that he can keep Debbie quiet."

"He did well enough when they were hiding."

"True. We didn't even know they were around." Wesley nodded toward the front door. "It appears our parents are here. I'll go into the kitchen and listen in, shall I?" He quickly removed himself from view.

The four men and two women burst through the door, Gunn in the lead. "Angel, this is—"

A petite woman with chin length hair, the exact honey color of Jason's, pushed her way forward. "Where are my children?"


"It's them, Angel. She knows stuff only a mother would know."

Angel looked at Gunn. "Such as?"

"Such as if you don't give me my children," she demanded, pointing her finger at Angel, "I'll kill you."

Angel pretended to ponder the threat from the woman who barely reached his shoulder. "Won't work. Sorry."

"Angel, they look just like the photo."

"I know, Cordelia," he sighed. "But we've got other concerns now. Wesley knows who they are."

At the sound of his name, Wesley came out of the back. Reginald Masterton straightened up. "Wesley? Wyndham-Price?"


"Good God, you're taller than your father."

"And you'd know this how?" Cordelia stared at the older man, hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Oh, I knew his parents. Quite well, actually." Reginald held out his hand to Wesley.

Wesley stared at it, but did not return the gesture. "I haven't the slightest notion who you are, sir."

"Ah, right. Last time I saw you, you were six. I tried to talk your father out of sending you to the Council for training. I couldn't come south after that. I see he took my advice."

"Hardly," Cordelia snorted. "Wes used to be a Slayer's Watcher. Actually, he had two, but then he got fired —"

"Cordelia!" Angel hissed.

"Two Slayers? Akh, never mind. I want my grandchildren."

"And do what with them, sir? Your daughter's house has been ransacked. Her children traumatized. Shall we send them home? The Council is still waiting there for them. They will be snatched from their parents the moment they enter the door. Run away with them? Your grandchildren will be hunted down until found and taken to England. I think you'll do neither, sir. Neither of them deserves the kind of treatment they will get from the Council. I personally will not allow such a fate to happen to those two children."

Cordelia grabbed Angel's arm and hugged him. "Omigod, listen to him! Go, Wesley!"

"Wesley, you can't keep the children from their parents," Angel admonished quietly, disentangling himself from Cordelia's grasp.

"Angel, they will take —," Wesley sighed. "The probability that Debbie would get a Watcher like Giles is miniscule. It's more likely she'd end up with someone like me."

Angel smiled. "There's nothing wrong with that, Wesley, except that neither you nor Giles are with the Council."

"I will not allow the Council to train Jason as a Watcher, nor will I permit them to take Debbie. You all have my word on that." Reginald's expression suddenly changed. "Hang on. Did you say Giles? Rupert Giles? He's in California? I haven't seen him since he was a teenager."

Wesley nodded. "In Sunnydale, Mr.—"


"…Masterton. He's the Slayer's Watcher."

"Well, not technically," Cordelia looked around, "She quit, remember? Faith — that's the other Slayer — shot Angel with poison and the Mayor's Ascension, and graduation."

"We remember," Wesley grumbled. "Thank you for bringing that up, Cordelia."

"How do you know all this?" Natalie asked Angel. "Are you with these loonies? Chasing imaginary vampires?"

"Ha! Angel  —"

"Cordelia, go get the children," Angel interrupted. "Before you say anything else."

"You sure?"

"Yes," he pleaded. "Please." He watched her go up the stairs, then turned to Natalie and Jacob. "Your children are fine, and you're welcome to stay here until you figure out what to do." He spread his hands out and turned around. "As you can see, we have enough space. The children have been set up —"

The door upstairs flew open and Jason ran down the hall and slid down the banister. "Mom! Dad!" He hugged each in turn, while Cordelia handed a crying Debbie over to her mother. "Grandpa Reggie! What are you and Uncle Bernie doing here?"

"Looking for you, young man." The old man hugged his grandson warmly. "And your little sister. I see you did a fine job protecting her."

"Yeah, I did okay. I was really scared, but then I got help. And those guys were here twice. Have you met my new friends? They're okay for grown-ups. Wesley reads a lot like me, he let me see some of his books, and Cordelia has a ghost in her house, his name is Dennis, and Wesley bought me a large Big Mac meal and I ate it all…"

"Jason, it would serve you well to breathe," Wesley laughed before he turned to leave the area.

Without batting an eyelid, Jason continued, "… and Angel's a vampire but he's nice, and his eyes don't turn red, they go yellow, and I taught Cordelia how to cook spaghetti, and we were going to give Debbie prunes and make her barf on Angel, but you got here too soon …"

Angel grabbed Cordelia by the arm and led her away from the reunion. "Prunes?" he whispered menacingly, "You were going to let her vomit on me?"

"It was Jason's idea, I swear!"

**Epilogue thingee**

Cordelia entered the office and smiled brightly. "We got a package."

"From whom?"

"Jason, grammar king." Cordelia held up the package. "See?"

"So? Open it."

"A letter, but it's adult handwriting." Cordelia put the letter aside and began to distribute the packages. "A package for you, Wesley. One for Angel, and one for me. Books. Figures. What'd you get?"

"Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone . How many of these are there?"

"Four, so far. Angel?"

"Bunnicula and Vampires Don't Drink Lemonade . A vampire rabbit? Who writes about vampire rabbits?"

"The Howes," Wesley explained with a deadpan expression. "There are five sequels to the book, by the way."

"The Howells got off the island?"

"Howes, Cordelia."

"Joking, Wesley."

"He's a terribly clever boy," Wesley remarked. "Jason would do well as a Watcher."

"Oh, please. He has a sense of humor."

"What did you get, then?"

"Dr. Seuss. We had a discussion about favorites, and he mentioned Green Eggs and Ham ," she held up the book, "and we started quoting it, but got stuck. And I got The Cat in the Hat and Horton Hears a Who . Haha, I got three. Did you read the letter?"

Wesley put his book down. "Ah, no." He opened the letter and scanned through it. "It's from Giles. They've settled in rather nicely. Jason is in school, doing well. The parents allow him to spend two afternoons a week with Giles. Debbie's, well, Debbie. She bit Xander. Apparently, Willow thought the incident hysterical. Debbie also destroyed a makeshift dummy used for Buffy's training. Pulled it apart; tried to ingest bits of it. Everything's normal, it appears."

"Could you see Debbie with a vampire? She'd bite it before it bit her."

Wesley handed to letter to Angel. "I fail to see the humor in that."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Well, Jason would."

"I thought it was funny."

"See, Wes?"

"So long as it’s not me," Angel mumbled.

The End -- drum roll and a cream-filled chocolate cupcake, please.



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