Chapter Text
“All right, everyone,” said Angel very seriously, pulling the team—minus Cordelia, who had stayed home to look after Connor—into the usual Team Huddle. “Speed is of the essence here. I’m the only one who’s ever made a trip like this, and I’m gonna need you to trust my judgment from here on out. We go in, we get what we came for, we get out. Got it?”
“Angel, this is an IKEA,” said Jenny.
“You don’t understand what this place is like,” said Angel. “You don’t understand. I was looking to buy Connor a crib a few months back and I ended up here for hours.”
“Okay, weirdo,” said Jenny, patting his shoulder. “Listen, we don’t even really need that much stuff, right? We’ve already got a changing table back at the Hyperion, and the rest of the things we need aren’t really things that I want to get at IKEA. We’re just looking for a crib.”
“Did IKEA hurt him or something?” Fred whispered to Wesley.
“Knowing Angel?” Wesley whispered back. “More likely, he viciously attacked an IKEA and its children as Angelus.”
“Be nice,” said Jenny reprovingly. “Clearly, Angel has some slightly unfounded hang-ups regarding IKEA—”
“No, I’m with Angel,” said Gunn. “This place is a little weird. All the empty showrooms make me feel like I’m in a ghost town or something, and it is way too easy to get lost.”
“There are arrows on the floor,” said Jenny. “You all know that there are arrows on the floor, right?”
“We need to stick together,” Angel was saying to no one in particular. “What happens if Jenny gets lost?”
“Oh my god, Angel, get a grip,” said Jenny, a laugh in her voice. “I’m not even three months pregnant. Once I start showing, you’re allowed to act like a crazy person.” At Angel’s hopeful look, her own smile vanished. “Joke. That was a joke.”
“Y’know what?” said Fred, stepping up. “Let’s get moving. We’re not gonna buy a crib if we stand around talking about how to buy a crib, right? Which way is the baby section?”
Wordlessly, Jenny pointed down to the arrows on the floor.
“Right,” said Fred, letting out an embarrassed giggle. “Well, that makes sense.” Beginning to follow the weirdly winding path, she waved the rest of them along.
Gunn decided to stick with Angel. The guy still looked a little overwhelmed, and every five seconds he would steal a furtive, nervous look at Jenny (who seemed just about as fine as she always did). “You okay?” he said. “You’ve been jumpy as all get-out since we got here.”
Angel chewed on his lip. Then he said, “The last baby born in the Hyperion—”
“Was your kid,” said Gunn. “Who’s fine.”
“Yeah, but Darla wasn’t,” said Angel with a surprising amount of ferocity for someone who was still speaking in a low whisper. “I don’t want something like that happening to Jenny.”
“Listen, man,” said Gunn, a little startled by how easy this one was to fix, “Jenny’s not a vampire. Having a baby is kind of a thing that living bodies are pretty capable of doing. Darla wasn’t alive, which was why she didn’t end up fine.” He gestured towards Jenny, who had moved up ahead to listen to Fred exclaim over a few decorative pillows. “Does that look like someone who’s gonna dissolve into a puff of dust when she has a baby?”
“I don’t know!” said Angel. “Maybe!”
“Okay, buddy,” said Gunn. “You're gonna have to stop projecting or we'll have to put you in the corner until the baby's born.” Clapping Angel on the shoulder, he moved up ahead to his girlfriend. “So are we gonna grab some pillows?”
“I think Angel’s gonna spontaneously combust if we do,” said Fred sympathetically.
“Nah, Angel’s—” Gunn glanced over his shoulder. Angel was hugging a decorative flower-shaped pillow to his chest with confused, puppyish eyes, looking more like a little lost kid than a grown man. “Uh. Going through it, I guess.”
With a reluctant smile, Fred placed the pillow down. “We can always come back another day,” she said. “Besides which, I kinda agree with Angel. We can’t afford to get too distracted.”
“Cribs are this way!” sang out Jenny, already ahead of them. “Y’know, Angel, for all your talk about expediency, you’re really lagging behind.”
“Don’t get lost in the IKEA, Jenny,” said Angel, dropping the pillow on the floor and hurrying after her.
“Heads-up, genius, there are arrows on the floor—”
Giggling, Fred took Gunn’s hand, tugging him along. “This is kinda fun!” she said happily. “Baby furniture, baby clothes…”
“Yeah, fun,” Gunn agreed, and was surprised to find that he meant it. Jenny was a little nuts sometimes, and he was pretty sure she was on some kind of weird nocturnal sleep cycle, but she was snarky and sweet in a way that he thought would make for a kickass mom. “Can’t wait to get to look at all those onesies again. We didn’t really have a lot of time to pick out anything cool for Connor.”
“We’re more than making up for it now, Charles,” said Fred with a wry grin. “That baby is spoiled. You know Cordelia spends half her salary on new toys for him?”
“Someone’s gonna have to step up and pay for Baby Calendar’s plushies, then, ‘cause we don’t want to start a sibling rivalry,” said Gunn, then considered. “Wait. Do they count as siblings if they don’t have any parents in common?”
“Hmm,” said Fred. “Well, would they be cousins?”
“Only if Jenny and Angel were siblings,” said Gunn. “You think Jenny and Angel are siblings?”
In answer, Fred pointed up ahead. Angel, who had somehow acquired another pillow to hug, was trailing anxiously behind Jenny, who kept on turning back to laugh at him. “Now, I’m an only child,” said Fred with amusement, “but those sure look like siblings to me.”
“Oh, c’mon,” said Gunn. “He’s like that with Cordelia.”
“That’s kyrumption, Charles!” said Fred with outrage. “Don’t blaspheme!”
“You sayin’ Jenny and Angel have kyrumption?”
“Do not start with that,” said Jenny, stopping in her tracks to look directly at the both of them. “I’d sooner run away with my baby in a hot-air balloon than start up anything romantic with Angel.”
Angel looked a little hurt. “Really?”
Jenny gave him a Look. “Are you saying that you have feelings for me?”
Almost involuntarily, Angel pulled a face. Realizing belatedly that this might be taken as an insult, he added hastily, “I mean—uh—listen, Jenny, you’re definitely attractive—”
“Oh my god, you’re hopeless,” said Jenny, and turned around to continue her trek towards the cribs.
“Damn, Angel,” said Gunn. “I could learn a thing or two from you about pick-up lines.”
“Please don’t, Charles,” said Fred, and winced a little apologetically at Angel’s injured expression. “Sorry, Angel! It’s just…didn’t you call yourself a manpire that one time you tried to talk to Cordelia?”
“…yes,” said Angel.
“Yeah, I just call myself the luckiest guy in the world when I’m talking to Fred,” said Gunn, giving Fred his best rakish grin. She laughed, that bubbly, half-surprised sound that always brought a rush of tingly warmth to him. “And that’s how you do it.”
“Can’t argue there,” Fred agreed happily, bumping her shoulder companionably against his.
“OH MY GOD,” said Jenny from up ahead. Rounding the corner, she turned back towards them, a huge stuffed bear in her arms. “No cribs,” she informed them, her voice slightly muffled from behind the bear. “My baby’s just gonna sleep on this every night.”
“Aww!” cooed Fred.
“Jenny, no—” said a horrified Angel.
“Jenny yes,” said Jenny, sounding extremely pleased with herself.
“Jenny, why don’t we look at the cribs before we make that decision?” said Gunn, deciding to take some initiative. Taking the bear from Jenny (she made an indignant noise of protest, which he chose to ignore), he tucked it under his arm, continuing around the next corner into the area with the cribs.
Upon seeing the array of options, Jenny stopped in her tracks, a strange expression crossing her face. Tentatively, she said, “These are…a lot of cribs. Are they all—I mean, does it matter which one I pick?”
“I’m not sure,” said Gunn truthfully. “Maybe just go with your instincts.”
“I don’t know if I have instincts when it comes to picking a crib,” said Jenny, who was beginning to look a little less breezily carefree. Almost unconsciously, her hand moved to her stomach, fingers splayed. “But this is…this feels like one of those important decisions that I should make, right? I’m the mom. I should know things like this.”
With an almost knowing expression, Fred stepped up, placing a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Just ‘cause you’ve got a bun in the oven doesn’t make you an insta-mom,” she said gently. “It’s not like maternal instincts show up at the same time the baby does, either. It’s more about—being okay with the fact that sometimes you might make a few mistakes. Maybe the crib you pick today won’t work, but money isn’t an issue, remember? This is an Angel Investigations-sponsored baby.”
Jenny snickered a little wetly, turning to smile fondly at Fred. Her eyes were visibly misty. “Um, thanks,” she said. “A lot, actually.”
“No problem,” said Fred, smiling back. “It’s all right if you don’t know which crib your kid needs, okay? We can look into it a little more if that makes you feel better, just so long as we’ve got a crib by the time your kid shows up.”
“No, I—” Jenny steeled herself, all but squaring up in front of the cribs. “I can do this,” she informed the furniture. “I know how to do this. I’m Jenny fucking Calendar, and I’m not single-momming it, because I have some great friends to help me figure my shit out.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Gunn warmly, moving forward to gently bump Jenny’s other shoulder with his own. “So which crib?”
“I have no idea,” said Jenny proudly.
“Uh, guys?” said Angel from behind them.
“Give me a sec, Angel,” said Jenny. “Okay. So are we thinking brown, light brown, black, that weird tan color—”
“Does anyone know where Wesley is?” said Angel.
“Huh?” Jenny turned, scanning the area behind them, and Gunn followed suit. Wesley was nowhere to be found. “Oh, yikes.”
“I told you,” Angel moaned. “This place is the easiest place in the world to get lost in—”
“Did Wesley seriously get lost in IKEA?” said Jenny, sounding a mixture of amused and worried.
“Poor Wes,” said Fred, who sounded more amused than worried. “He’ll be so embarrassed when we find him.”
Wesley turned up when they were all having lunch in the cafeteria, wheeling a shopping cart with two plushies, a cardboard box containing one-third of the pieces needed to build an end table, a decorative pillow covered in flowers, one of those canvas tote bags, and three plastic cups.
“Man, what happened to you?” said Gunn, doing his best not to laugh.
“…all the aisles…too many choices,” muttered Wesley, who looked a little shell-shocked. “Too many choices…”
“I’m going shopping by myself next time,” said Jenny.
“Um, didn’t you want to buy your baby a giant teddy bear to sleep on in lieu of a crib?” Fred pointed out.
“You endorsed that decision, Winifred, don’t look at me like that!” laughed Jenny, using her fork to toss a green bean at a giggling Fred.
“Wes, it’s okay,” said Angel, standing up from the table to gently lead Wesley over to the group. “You’re safe now. You made it. We’ve got a crib, we’re gonna go buy it—”
“There was a lovely little baby blanket somewhere—somewhere back there,” said Wesley vaguely, waving a hand in the direction from which he had arrived. “Lots of flowers. Gender-neutral. After lunch we should go back and look at baby blankets, wouldn’t you say?”
“Okay, he’s in deep,” said Angel. “Jenny?”
“Wesley, we have like seven different baby blankets already,” said Jenny firmly. “We don’t need any more baby blankets. Sit down and have the rest of my green beans.”
“…you haven’t eaten any green beans,” said Angel.
“Correct,” said Jenny. “They’re disgusting. Sit down, Wes.”
“I read an article in Demonic Parenting Weekly that said green beans are good for human pregnancy—”
“Which one of us is closer to the situation, Angel?” said Jenny. “I don’t see you having a baby.”
“I do have a baby!” said Angel, willfully misinterpreting Jenny’s words. “I have Connor!”
“…okay,” said Jenny. “Are we going to argue about whether or not I’m eating the appropriate amount of green beans, or are we going to help Wesley?”
Angel seemed to be seriously considering that question.
“Wesley,” said Jenny pointedly, standing up herself to steer Wesley over to the table, “thank you for your time in finding us the, uh—what exactly did you get us?”
Wesley looked genuinely bothered by his inability to answer the question.
“Okay,” said Jenny. “Well, thanks. I’m sure it’ll help improve baby Calendar’s life significantly.”
“How does the canvas tote bag improve baby Calendar’s life significantly?” Gunn whispered to Fred.
“Shh,” said Fred, stars in her eyes. “Jenny’s momming.”
“I am not momming,” said Jenny, a laugh in her voice. “That implies that Wesley’s some kind of helpless baby!” After a moment of consideration, a slow, mischievous grin spread across her face.
“Don’t—don’t give her an opening like that,” said Wesley indignantly to Fred. “She’s merciless.”
“From what she’s told me about you in Sunnydale, she has reason to be,” said Gunn innocently.
Wesley spun around to give Jenny a Look. “What?” said Jenny. “Gunn and I are friends. We talk.”
“About my time in Sunnydale?” said Wesley. “I was a hapless imbecile back then!”
“Yeah, well, I was dating Rupert Giles back then,” said Jenny, rolling her eyes. “We all make mistakes.”
“I’m sorry, you were what?” said Wesley.
“You missed that?” said Jenny.
As the conversation turned towards old Sunnydale history, Fred turned towards Gunn, a small smile on her face. “Well, we found Wes,” she said. “Does that mean we can count this speedy IKEA mission a success?”
“We got everything we came for,” Gunn agreed, glancing back over his shoulder at their own shopping cart: piled high with boxes, baby blankets, and a plethora of toys. “…Plus a little extra.”