Darla moans and whines about the pain, and Angel gently reminds her, "You like pain." Heh. Darla grabs his arm and gasps, "This is different! I want it out! Now!" Wesley tells her that she's going into labor, and when Angel asks how long it'll take, he says, "On average, about eighteen hours." Darla cries some more, and the MoG quietly flee. I would, too, if I could. Angel helps Darla to the bed, and then he, too, flees the groaning vampire. In the sitting room, Angel tells the MoG, "We've gotta figure out what's inside of her, now. Before it skitters out." Gunn suggests getting a demon doctor, "someone who understands how her vampire girl-parts work." Fred suggests trying a normal hospital, and Cordy none-too-gently points out that hospitals don't admit vampires. She's getting fed up with Fred, too. Welcome to the club, Cordy. Angel says that they don't have to admit Darla, and Wesley burbles, "Of course! We don't need the right doctor, we just need the right equipment." Oh, yeah. Of course. Because of that Obstetrics class Wesley took over the summer, which is where he made friends with the mortician and picked up a police scanner. Darla wails some more in the other room, and I am finally rescued by a blipvert.