Disclaimer: see chapter 1



Little Liam Riley gurgled happily on the picnic rug, his legs and arms waving in the air.

"He's perfect," Joyce Summers said, tickling her grandson's tummy. "Utterly perfect."

"One hundred per cent human," Buffy said proudly.

"Not quite," Giles reminded her. "Remember you yourself …" he trailed off, catching a sight of Liam's smile beaming up at him. "He is, indeed, perfect," he agreed. "And I'm very flattered you chose me as his godfather."

"Not the only godfather." Xander plopped down with a box and grinned. "Hey, Lee."

"Liam," corrected Buffy with mock annoyance. "Who has to have the most godparents in the world."

"We couldn't leave anyone out," said Angel, scooping his son up and swinging him round gently before kissing him. "And I have even more good news. It's taken a while and a few white lies, but I've managed to get hold of the little that was left of the family fortune." He gave Liam to Buffy and produced a lengthy document. "It helped I've used the same lawyers for the last two centuries. But apparently when … well, when I died, my father never got a chance to change his will. When he died, the house and the land was placed under the Crown, and eventually sold. But it's empty, has been for twenty years, and they've got it back for me. I don't know what I'll do with it. We could sell it, or keep it as a holiday home." He passed the document to Giles. "It's watertight. And it has a heir."

"The first family to be refounded after two and a half centuries," said Giles. He lifted his glass of champagne. "I propose a toast. To Liam Riley, the old and the new, and to the new mother, and to those that are gone."

They all stood, and above the group the sun shone down, glinting on the baby's fair locks.

"To the future," said Angel; and they drank.