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How to knock your heroine up

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Summary: Their eyes meet across a crowded bar. After too much drink they fall into bed. Nine months later the crossover twins are born. Boring, been there, written that. How about these suggestions for unusual conception circumstances?

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Multiple Pairings(Past Donor)KiwikatipoFR1834,3710406,75024 Feb 074 Nov 07Yes


TITLE: How to knock your heroine up
AUTHOR: Kiwkatipo
DISCLAIMER: "Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Angel" together with the names, titles and back story are the sole copyright property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Inc., "Xena: Warrior Princess," together with the names, titles and back story are the sole copyright property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures.

Summary: Constantly racking my brain to think of novel ways to make my normally birth control using heroines pregnant, I thought I’d write up a few that never made it into stories. Anyone got their own brainstorms, feel free to add them.


Harmony lay in her bed, dreaming of draining the blood from the body of the irritating but cute guy in Information Technology Support. It wasn’t a food dream falling into the category of one of those sex/death vampire fantasies.

She sighed carnally in her sleep.



“Ow!” Harmony’s eyes flew open in confusion. A rain of gold coins poured onto her pink duvet clad double bed.

“What the hell?” Harmony rolled out of bed quickly. Bizarrely, the shower of hard painful currency followed her, continuing their onslaught of her body.

“Crapola!” Harmony crawled over to her closet, trying to cover her head with her hands. A very tricky process. She finally reached her intended destination, flinging open the white slatted door. Her pink plastic umbrella propped against a far corner was what she needed.

It was meant to be bad luck to open an umbrella inside, but as a modern twenty first century vampire, Harmony didn’t believe in that superstitious dumbness.

She clicked the catch on her umbrella and held it defensively over her blonde mane.

“Using protection? Now that is closing the stable door after the horse has bolted, Harmony.” A handsome muscular man, wearing a brown leather outfit that made him look like a Roman gladiator in that Russell Crowe movie, stood before her. He waved his hand and the coins stopped falling.

“Who the heck are you?” Harmony clutched her diaphanous pink negligee around her, out of habit rather than modesty. After what she’d done with Spike back in the day, Harmony was quite the undead girl of the world.

“Ares, God of War. Didn’t like the golden shower? I thought you were the kind of girl who did.” The dark haired warrior god smirked infuriatingly. “Must be on my way. Gang war in East LA, that has my unwitting disciples falling in combat at the moment. Keep the money to do up the nursery, Harm.”

“Huh?” Harmony directed this baffled grunt to mid air. Ares no longer remained in the room.


Harmony wished Angel would stop shouting at her. So she juggled his appointments around. Causing him to possibly miss his monthly rendezvous with Nina the dog girl. Harmony didn’t mean to. Angel was a brooding bully to his sweet but evil personal assistant. The whole of Wolfram and Hart thought so.

“Please, boss, I have a headache.” Harmony put her hand to her throbbing temple. Maybe her head pain was being caused by the new high heels she was breaking in. Or was it ill fitting bras that caused migraines? What had that Cosmopolitan article said again?

“What about my headache, Harmony? You are dust do you hear me? Dust, if you don’t sort this mess out by three this afternoon!” Angel slammed his fist on the polished imposing desk for emphasis. The sound pierced Harmony’s head like a chisel through her skull.

“Arrgh!” Harmony dropped to her knees in screaming agony. Her tight skirt pressed across her thighs adding to her discomfort.

“God, are you okay?” Angel contritely dashed from behind his desk to help her.

“Arrgh!” Harmony screamed again, it felt as if her skull was splitting in two. Literally because it was.

“Holy shi..” Angel caught the wailing, naked, miniature infant that fell out of Harmony’s brain.

Harmony passed out on the carpet of Angel’s office, her head knitting back together.

The baby grew to infant size in Angel’s hands.

Harmony came to lying on a bed in Wolfram and Hart's sick bay. Angel stood beside her, rocking an infant in a surprisingly experienced fashion.

“Harmony, this is your daughter.” Angel broke it to her gently. “Any ideas for names?”
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