Chapter 25: December 2014
Christmas had to be Hannah’s least favorite holiday, or it had been. With her mom, there had been no celebrations of any kind, really. They had been lucky to have enough money for something special for dinner, let alone gifts. At the foster home she’d been in last Christmas, things had been a little better. There had been a tree and presents, anyway. At the same time, though, there had been the sense that she wasn’t welcome, and the gifts she’d been given had no special meaning to them because the giver didn’t really know her.
This year might actually be different, better—except that she was too afraid to hope.
Wesley’s voice drifted down the hallway. Hannah had left her door open just so she could hear him. The twins’ room was just down from her own, and she loved listening to him read to the boys. He’d been reading Lord of the Rings until last week, when they had finished up, and Will had requested The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe next.
She probably could have gone in to listen to the story, but she felt weird about it, like an interloper. Hannah got along just fine with Will and Davey, but it was hard to forget that they were the real kids, the ones who really belonged. She was there through a twist of fate, no more. Had she not been chosen, she would probably have floated around the system until she turned eighteen, and then she’d have been booted.
Still, she loved to listen, and she could hear well enough from her own room as Wesley read, ” ‘They all saw it this time, a whiskered furry face which had looked out at them from behind a tree. But this time it didn’t immediately draw back. Instead, the animal put its paw against its mouth just as humans put their finger on their lips when they are signalling you to be quiet. Then it disappeared again. The children all stood holding their breath.'”
“Hannah?”
She opened her eyes, sitting up immediately, wondering if Nika realized that she’d been listening to the story, or if the woman thought she’d been asleep. “Yeah?”
Nika stood in the doorway, a slight frown on her features. “You know, if you wanted to listen to Wesley read, you could join the boys in their room.”
Hannah flushed. “It’s okay. I can hear.”
Nika hesitated and then nodded. “I wanted to speak with you, if you have a moment.”
Hannah nodded, watching as Nika came in the room, sitting down awkwardly on the bed. She was seven months along at this point, and she looked it. “I know that you haven’t been here long,” Nika began, “but I thought you might want to be able to purchase Christmas gifts. You certainly don’t have to, and no one is expecting anything, but I thought you’d want the option.”
The girl frowned. “What do you think I should do?”
Nika shook her head. “That is up to you. Wesley is going to take the boys shopping for gifts in a few days, however. I know that they usually buy something for us and Enid, but we keep the exchanges between everyone else fairly small.” She laughed a little. “There are quite a few of us, and so once you start buying presents, it’s hard to know where to stop.”
Hannah swallowed. “I don’t have any money.”
“We know that, cariad ,” Nika replied gently. ” Which is why I wanted to speak with you about it. Wesley and I have been talking, and you should know that the Council pays us for your ‘upkeep,’ they call it. Some of that money rightly belongs to you. You’re a little young at the moment to have an after-school job, and your Slayer responsibilities would make that difficult to do anyway. We want to give you an allowance out of the Council’s money.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Hannah said quickly. “I mean, I know my other foster parents—”
“This is not foster care,” Nika said firmly. “Besides, once you turn eighteen that money will be yours. You will be recognized as an adult, both by the Council and the State.”
Hannah nodded. Eighteen didn’t seem so far away, and she’d be on her own then. Something of that anxiety must have shown on her face, because Nika quickly hugged her. “You are Wesley’s Slayer, Hannah, and a part of this family. If you want to know how long a Watcher looks after his Slayer, ask Giles in a couple weeks when he visits. He is still very much Buffy’s Watcher, even though he has a different job title now.”
She stood slowly, holding out a hand to Hannah. “Come. Enid ‘s baking, and she could use your help decorating. It sounds as though Wesley’s nearly done with the chapter. You’ll want to borrow the book from him I’m sure.”
Hannah nodded. “It’s cool. I’ve never read that one before.”
“Then I’ll tell Wesley to give you the book when he’s done with it,” Nika replied. “And, Hannah, tomorrow night go in and sit with them. You’ll be welcome there.”
~~~~~
“It’s crooked,” Spike said.
Buffy frowned. “No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“It can’t be.”
“Look, Slayer, I’m tellin’ you the bloody tree is crooked. If you’ve got a problem with that assessment, come out here and look at it yourself. Then I can move it how you want it.”
Spike sounded exasperated, and Buffy couldn’t exactly blame him. They’d been arguing all week over little petty things that shouldn’t have made any difference at all. His patience was definitely wearing thin. “Are you sure—”
“Enough!” It was an explosion of sound. Buffy came around the tree to find his eyes sparking gold. He was obviously hanging onto his control by the thinnest of threads. “I know watching me nearly buy it was upsetting,” Spike said, his voice lower now since he had no desire to have Meg listening in on their argument. “But you have got to get over this, Buffy! I’m not weak or fragile, nor am I likely to die just by movin’ a bloody Christmas tree.”
She opened her mouth to apologize, but Spike held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t,” he said shortly. “You’ve been sayin’ you were sorry for the last few weeks, an’ it’s getting old. Just stop actin’ like a soddin’ mother hen.”
Buffy blinked then took a deep breath. “I know you’re upset, Spike, but I worry about you, and—”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” he replied, cutting her off. “Buffy, I didn’t die. I’m not goin’ to die. You seem to forget that I’ve been around for over a century. I’m not some idiot fledge who doesn’t know to get to shelter before the sun comes up. I can bloody well take care of myself.”
She was silent. Buffy knew she was being irrational. She knew it with every fiber of her being. It wasn’t like she’d always treated Spike like this, either. After all, she knew just how much damage he could take and keep on ticking—he’d survived getting an organ dropped on him and a church fire, not to mention the beating at her hands.
Well, more than one beating, actually.
Life was fragile, though, and she’d never realized that Spike was included in that rather trite statement. Losing him—or almost losing him—had shaken her world to the core.
“I know.”
Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath. “I’m going out for a bit. Need to get some air.” He waited for the “be careful” that she tossed after him every time he left the house, even if it was just for groceries, but she stayed silent. “Right. Be back later.”
Buffy sank down on the couch. She was driving both of them crazy—Spike because he hated being hovered over and herself because she hated it when he was angry. Things had been going so well before that trip to Cleveland . Now, everything seemed so breakable, like one of those soap bubbles that Meg loved to blow.
It wasn’t just Spike. It was the fact that Dawn and Connor had finally decided to move to Cleveland . They had a few things to finish up out here, but they planned on making it final in the spring. Dawn had never lived more than a short drive away, and Buffy hated to think that they would lose touch.
There was the new Slayer, who was too young. It made Buffy remember how much of her own childhood she had missed out on. It was finding more gray hairs and more lines on her face—and it was wondering when Spike would look at her and see an old woman.
What would he do when he no longer thought her young and beautiful?
Deep down, Buffy knew it was a stupid question. Spike would stay with her until she was in her grave, but there it was. Faith’s death had seemed to spark an avalanche of changes, and it burst her soap bubble world where everything was fine and it didn’t matter that Spike wasn’t changing, or that she was.
But it did matter, and Spike could change. She’d seen that board protrude through his chest, and she’d known that Spike, as constant as he seemed, could change. Buffy could lose him.
And that made her wonder how many other ways there might be to lose him.
“Mom?”
Buffy looked up to see Meg standing in front of her. “What is it, sweetie?”
“Are you and Dad fighting again?”
“No, we just had a little disagreement, that’s all,” Buffy was quick to reassure her, although Meg’s face told her that her daughter wasn’t buying it. “We’ll be fine, Meg.”
Meg looked at her mom, not believing a word of it. Her parents had been fighting non-stop since they took that trip to Cleveland . “I think you guys should have to kiss and make up.”
“What?” Buffy asked.
“I think you and Dad should have to kiss and make up,” Meg insisted. “You make me do that with the twins when we fight. Why shouldn’t the two of you have to do that when you fight?”
“It’s different with grownups,” Buffy replied, her voice growing sharp.
“Why?” Meg asked insistently. “You’ve been mad ever since you guys got back. You’re always upset.”
“Meg, I don’t think—”
“Is Dad going to leave?” she asked, and the only thing that kept Buffy from getting angry with her daughter were the ready tears in her voice.
“No, Meg, your father would never leave,” Buffy replied.
“Is he going to die?” she asked, and her whole body tensed with the answer. Meg knew that Spike had been hurt really badly. She was scared that maybe he wasn’t as recovered as everybody kept saying he was, especially since her mom was so angry all the time.
Spike had once told her that Buffy always got mad when she got scared. That had been after she’d nearly been run over by a car and Buffy had yelled at her for fifteen minutes straight.
“No!” Buffy stared at her daughter in horror. “Why would you think that?”
“Then why are you so angry?”
Buffy took a deep breath. “I’m not angry at your dad,” she finally said. “I promise. Now, why don’t you go upstairs and get ready for bed. It’s getting late.”
Meg shot her one last, long look before heading up the stairs. Buffy leaned back on the couch, thinking about what her daughter had said. The last time she and Spike had really made love was before they’d gone to Cleveland . Not that they hadn’t had sex, but Spike had been hurt, and then they’d never really seemed to connect—
Maybe Meg was right. They needed to kiss and make up. They needed to do something before this rift between them became unmanageable.
She sighed, looking at the Christmas tree. Spike had been right. It was crooked.
~~~~~
Spike wanted to go out and do some violence. He wanted to disregard Buffy’s anxiety entirely, show her that not only was he fully healed but that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. While the idea of going down to one of the demon bars and picking a fight had merit, Spike had somehow moved past senseless violence in the last ten years.
Not that he didn’t like a spot of violence before bedtime, just that he wanted it to accomplish something while bashing heads in.
Besides, tonight he wanted company of the male sort, so he decided to swing by Wesley’s house to see if the Watcher would join him. Spike wanted someone to commiserate with him, and Wesley was good at that sort of thing.
The house was blazing with light when he arrived, and Spike knocked softly, knowing that the boys were probably in bed. He was a little surprised when Hannah answered the door, her freckles standing out against pale skin. “Spike.”
There was relief in her tone as she recognized him, and Spike slipped inside the house, fixing her with a concerned look. “What’s up, pet?”
They hadn’t spent much time together. Wesley had been seeing to much of the girl’s training while Spike was recovering, and both Connor and Angel had been happy to assist when necessary. Spike had had his hands full with Buffy and taking care of some of the paying jobs that came up after he was healed.
She seemed like a nice enough girl, though, and Wesley had kept him informed of her progress. Spike kept thinking that he probably ought to take more of an interest in her, after what Enid had said. Especially now that Connor and Dawn were planning on moving. Someone would need to take Hell-Boy’s place.
“It’s Nika,” Hannah replied, gulping audibly. “She started having contractions, but it’s early, and Wesley and Nain had to take her to the hospital.”
“The boys?” Spike asked, although he already knew the answer. He could sense their steady heartbeats on the floor above.
Hannah shrugged. “Still asleep. Wesley wanted me to stay with them, but he said not to wake them up.”
She was scared; Spike could smell it, sharp and spicy, on the air. “Why don’t I stay here until they get back?” he suggested. It wasn’t demon-fighting, but it would legitimately get him out of the house for a while.
“Okay,” Hannah replied, trying not to show how comforting she found Spike’s presence. It wasn’t that babysitting a couple of kids was a big deal. The twins were asleep, and she had looked after them a couple of times since she’d come to live with Wesley and Nika.
She just didn’t want to be alone, waiting for news. She really liked these people, and she didn’t want anything bad to happen to them.
“Don’t worry about Nika, pet,” Spike said, picking up on her emotions. “She’s got Enid with her. That woman is a walking miracle. You’ve tasted her cooking, so you ought to know.”
That got a small giggle out of her, and Spike led her into the living room, very much at home in Wesley’s house. “So how are you likin’ the Slayer gig?”
“I like it.”
Hannah said it with quiet conviction, and Spike gave her a sharp look. “That right?” When she didn’t reply, he asked, “So you seein’ your mum for Christmas or anything?”
She appeared surprised by the question and responded without thinking. “No. Mom didn’t show up last year, so I doubt it. She probably won’t even remember.”
Spike blinked in surprise. Even vampires knew when Christmas approached. The stores advertised it for months in advance; it was a little hard to miss. He knew that there had been something wrong with the girl’s mother since Hannah was living with Wesley and Nika, but this shed new light on things. “You ask for anything special?”
Hannah shrugged, uncomfortable. “Not really. I don’t—it’s just—”
“It’s different here.” His words, and the emotion behind them, had Hannah meeting his eyes. “I can promise you that.”
The ringing of the cell phone cut off anything else he might have said. “H’lo?”
“Spike?” Buffy sounded like she was out of breath. “Where are you?”
“At Wesley’s,” he replied shortly. “Thought I’d stop by, but they’re at the hospital.”
“Oh, good, you know,” Buffy said with relief. “Wesley just called me. Nika’s in labor now, and they’re going to deliver the baby tonight. I guess there might be some complications. I called Dawn, and she’s going to stay with Meg while I go to the hospital.”
Spike was silent for a moment. “I think I’m going to stay here with Hannah. She’s by herself with the twins, and if this takes a while, she could probably use a hand.”
“Good,” Buffy replied, surprising him. “I know Wesley was worried about leaving them alone for too long. I’ll let Wes know that you’re taking care of things.”
“Then I’ll see you soon.”
He was about to hang up when Buffy’s voice caught him. “Spike.”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Love you too.”