Chapter Eight
Anne woke up Friday morning before Matt, and that never happened. Excitement and apprehension were warring for dominance over her stomach. Tonight was it. Tonight, Spike and Matt would meet, and life would never be the same. Not that it had been the same since he showed up at the Glamour Factory just two short days ago, but this seemed more permanent. She worried whether or not she should tell Matt that Spike was his father right away, or wait and see how they reacted to each other.
Groaning at the non-stop turning of her brain, she flopped onto her back, resting an arm across her forehead. Her need to protect Matt and her want for him to know his father were at odds. Not to mention her own confused feelings towards the vampire. He’d shown a different side of himself the night before, relaxed and teasing. He smiled more last night than she thought possible. He seemed as normal as Mark, and nothing like the monster with a reputation of over a century of blood, death and destruction.
Sighing, Anne gave up on sleep and slipped out of bed. Padding quietly down the hall, she looked in on Matt, smiling at the sight of his tiny frame bathed in the light of the sun from his window. Closing the door, she went to the kitchen, the coffee pot her first stop. Once that was started, she turned to the refrigerator, to pull out eggs and cantaloupe. Cooking always soothed her, helped her think, so Matt would get a big breakfast this morning.
Putting the eggs on the counter, she went to get the cutting board and knife. Slicing into the thick skin of the fruit, her thoughts turned to Spike once more. Her reaction to him physically and her feelings towards him were in a jumbled mess. She knew she wanted him, but that was the only thing that she knew for sure. She cared about him, but what if that was just an extension of her love for her son? However, when he touched her, looked at her, she felt like she was the only woman on the planet. And she liked it. A lot. She felt a pang of arousal shoot through her at the memory of how they parted the night before. God, he COULD make her burn.
Moving on auto, she scooped seeds out the cantaloupe, then put it aside to get her first cup of coffee. Anne sighed again, savoring the warm brew, before going back to her task. Then of course, there was the problem of Spike’s vampiric state. At least the daylight issue. He would never be able to see his child in the sun. He would never be able to attend baseball games, or soccer games, never be able to go to barbecues. In all, not as important as him just BEING there, but it was still a large part of life. She was afraid of how it would make Spike feel, not being able to do those things with his son. Then, a though struck her. Maybe Willow could help.
The thought of her friend brought on a whole other set of fears, but she slammed the door on them. *One thing at a time, Annie,* she told herself, placing the sliced fruit onto a plate. She then plucked three eggs out of the carton and broke them into a bowl. Getting the milk from the fridge, she whipped it with the eggs. Next came cinnamon, a touch of sugar, and some nutmeg. Starting a pan to heat on the stove, she grabbed the bread and started to make french toast.
By the time she was putting the last piece on the platter, Matt walked into the kitchen, Scooby clutched firmly beneath his tiny arm.
“Mornin’ Mommy,” he mumbled, holding his free arm up. Smiling, she turned off the stove, and scooped him up into her arms.
“Good morning, baby. Sleep well?” He nodded, his nose picking up the scent of something sweet.
“Ooh, fresh toas’.” He cried, hugging her tight around the neck, and spotting the fruit, “And cantlope.” He squirmed to get down, eager to get to the food. Chuckling, she dropped him to the floor so he could scramble up into his chair. Piling two slices on the plate, she slathered them with butter, then topped it with syrup. Then, she put a slice of cantaloupe on the side and took it to the table. He dug in while she poured him some milk, and got herself another cup of coffee.
“Fanks,” he said around the mouthful of food, as she sat the glass in front of him, then sat down.
“You’re welcome. And don’t talk with your mouth full.” He scrunched up his nose, but nodded. Swallowing, he spoke again.
“Whassa matta, Mommy?” She blinked, not realizing her inner turmoil was evident on her face.
“Nothing, honey.” She denied, then took a sip of coffee. “Guess what.”
“What?” Big, blue eyes met hers, the pure innocence in them making her heart clench. She suddenly found herself wondering whether or not anyone had ever made William french toast and sat with him while he ate it.
“We’re having a guest for dinner.” She pulled back from the thoughts, and made sure her voice was cheery.
“Unca Mark?” Anne smiled.
“Nope. This is a new somebody. He’s a friend of mine from when I lived in California.” She somewhat lied.
“With Gramma?” He asked, shoving another bite in his mouth. She reached out with a napkin and wiped the syrup off his chin, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.
“Yeah, with Gramma.” The image of her mother swam through her mind. It was about time to call her again, and maybe this time they could work out a visit. Matt happily munched on his breakfast, oblivious to his mother’s troubles. Maybe she was worrying too much, she thought, watching him eat. Her son was a happy child. Easy and outgoing, inquisitive and smart. Things would go well, they just had to.
Finishing her coffee, she sent him off to get ready for school. Then, she cleaned up the kitchen and went to get dressed, mentally counting the hours until dinner.
~*~*~
“I can’t believe you did that to me, Willow.” Xander said, glaring at her over his coffee cup. They were sitting in the diner across from the hotel, eating breakfast.
“I said I was sorry.” She grumbled around a bite of eggs. He had been bitching since she knocked on his door, offering to buy breakfast to make peace. He just wouldn’t let it go.
“Just to go see some hick band in some dive bar. Has it been that long since you’ve had a man?” His words were dripping with sarcasm. She looked up sharply, not caring for what he was implying.
“You would know.” She shot back, ignoring the pang of shame that shot through her. His eyes narrowed at her allusion to their one and only time together. It had been right after Oz and Cordy left, and they had gotten drunk, crying about their exes. One thing led to another, and, well, Willow had never been able to look at him in the same way since.
“Well, if sex is all it’s about, let’s go. No need to go looking when it’s right here.” He sneered, angry and a little hurt. He’d thought their time was special. Not something that would ever happen again, but special.
“So not going there, Xander. And it wasn’t about sex. I didn’t do anything with him. NOT that it’s any of your business.” She spat, pushing her plate away. She’d suddenly lost her appetite. “I’m going out with him today.” Xander’s eyes widened.
“What?! But we still have to look for Buffy.” He protested, truly shocked that she had forgotten their mission. Willow sighed, and dug through her purse for Tylenol. She had struggled all night about whether or not to give him Buffy’s message. That and sweaty, naked dreams about a certain Native American guitar player, but mostly about Buffy. Right. Xander was not one to back down once he got an idea in his head. Downing the pills, she took a deep breath.
“I saw her last night.”
“WHAT!!” His cup came down hard on the table, sloshing its contents over the rim.
“Shhh.” She hissed when the other patrons turned to look curiously at them. She grabbed a handful of napkins to help him sop up the mess.
“Why didn’t you come get me?” He accused, his eyes heated.
“One, what would you have done besides freak out on her? Two, I didn’t know that she knew Mark. Three,” deeper breath, “Spike was there.” Every muscle in Xander’s body stilled, save the one jumping in his cheek. Anger and hatred filled his dark orbs, causing her to shrink back from their intensity.
“That. Bastard.” He ground out. “I knew he knew where she was. Did she dust him?”
“No.” Her brows drew together and her nose scrunched up. “It actually looked like they were on a date.” Willow leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, a nasty smile curving her lips at his horrified sputtering.
“Date? With Spike? Are you sure? Cause, remember, he’s evil and soulless. Why would she be on a date with him?”
“He didn’t seem evil and soulless last night. In fact, he seemed pretty much a regular guy. No fangs, no grr. In fact, he didn’t insult any of us once. And there was no talking of killing at all.” She told him, watching disbelief cloud his eyes.
“So, you sat down and had a heart to heart with Captain Peroxide?”
“No. We were all sitting at the table together.”
“So, you’re telling me, that since the last time we saw him, Spike has, what? Changed? I don’t buy it. It’s probably just some big plan to get close to her and kill her and the kid.” Willow’s eyes widened, but Xander didn’t notice. He was too caught up in verbalizing his inner feelings. “Yeah, that’s it. I told her that she should get rid of it. Then she wouldn’t have any of these. . .NICE feelings towards him.”
“Xander.” Willow finally found her voice, her hand snaking across the table to grab his wrist.
“What?”
“How do you know about her son?” She watched him pale as he realized his mistake. He dropped his eyes to the table, suddenly very interested in cleaning up the coffee spill. “XANDER!” Her voice rose an octave, and this time it was he that was worried about people staring.
“What? Well, maybe I saw her in L. A.” He said, averting his eyes.
“Maybe?!” she hissed, her eyes blazing. “What. Did. You. Do?”
“Nothing.” Xander replied, still not looking at her. Willow threw her napkin on the table and stood, feeling the need to get out of his presence before she hurt him. Badly.
“She told me to tell you to wait a couple of days. She has things going on in her life, and she can’t deal with you right now. And frankly, neither can I.” She then turned on her heel and left. Xander watched her leave, anger and resentment flaring in his eyes.
~*~*~
Anne pulled the grocery bags out of her car, slamming the trunk and walking to her door. She had exactly one hour until she had to get Matt from school, and she still had to clean. Granted, she had just cleaned two days before, but she was nervous.
Letting herself in, she went into the kitchen to put the steaks into the fridge. She had pondered a long time on what to feed a vampire. Angel never ate human food, and until the night before she hadn’t known that Spike did. At least with steaks, she could leave his bloody and cook hers and Matt’s to a more consumable degree.
As soon as she was done putting the food away, she ran around the house, making sure everything was just right. She even did a sweep of Matt’s room, even though, for a four year old, he was neat. When she was done, she still had fifteen minutes to spare. Pushing her hair out of her face, she grabbed her purse and left again.
~*~*~
Spike paced restlessly around his room, working on his second pack of cigarettes. He couldn’t remember ever being this nervous about anything in his life or unlife. How do you go about meeting your four year old son for the first time? What do you say? How do you act? What if the kid hated him?
Growling at all the thoughts swirling around in his head, he lit another cigarette off the burning end of the last. He’d tried and tossed out many opening lines. Finally, he decided to keep it casual, follow Buffy’s lead.
He, the Big Bad, was scared shitless. The two most important things in his world were counting on him, and he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to measure up. He was a VAMPIRE for pity’s sake. He was never supposed to be a father. Never supposed to fall in love the Slayer. As that thought penetrated his panicked brain, he stopped dead, turning it over.
“When the fuck did that happen?” He asked the air. He waited for the panic to set in again, but it never did. Something about admitting this to himself calmed him. A slow smile began to spread across his face, and a lightness he never felt before bloomed in his chest. He was in love with the mother of his child. Put like that, it was natural. Now, in love a Slayer, was a totally different thing. But, it still felt natural.
Crushing his cigarette out, he climbed into bed, his view of the night to come drastically improved.
~*~*~
“Hi, Willow.” Mark said, when she opened the door. She returned his huge grin with a tight smile and moved to let him in. “What’s the matter?” He asked at the look on her face. She turned around, anger still evident on her face.
“Xander. He’s just so. . .ugh. . .grr. . . and uuhh.” She spat, her face flushed with anger, a scowl marring her pretty features. Mark walked over to her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. She felt herself relax almost immediately, and her smile was a bit brighter this time.
“What did he do?” His thumbs traced lightly over her collar bone, leaving pleasant tingles in their wake.
“He let it slip today, that he saw Buffy in L.A. while she was pregnant.” She saw the flash of temper in his eyes. “You knew already?” He nodded, sighing.
“Yeah, Anne told me.”
“Anne? Who’s. . .Oh, Buffy. I didn’t realize she was going by her middle name.” Willow said. Mark shrugged a shoulder.
“I guess. That’s all I’ve ever known her as.”
“Do you know what happened? I got so mad at him that I walked out. If I know Xander, whatever he said to her was a large part of why she didn’t come back.” Willow’s green eyes searched his face, and saw his reluctance to answer. His loyalty to Buffy made her heart ache.
“It’s not my story to tell.” He answered finally, sliding one of his hands down her arm to rest lightly on her waist. “I will say, that some of it was intense. You should ask Anne.” She nodded in understanding.
“I tried to call her, but she wasn’t home.” Willow found herself leaning towards him, the feel of his rough hand on her skin sending shocks to all the right places. She was wearing a dark red blouse that exposed the curve of her shoulders, the smooth line of her neck, and just enough cleavage to intrigue.
“It’s about time for Matt to get picked up.” Matt said, amazed at the softness of her creamy skin. Her eyes were darkening to jade, and he could feel her pulse speeding up under his thumb. He wasn’t doing much better, the sudden tightness of his jeans bordering on painful.
“Oh,” she breathed, her tongue darting out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. Mark’s eyes fixated on the pink tip sliding across the soft flesh. A low groan escaped him before he lowered his mouth to hers. Willow’s arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers threading through his long tresses. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her tight against him. Desire swirled around them, through them, making them burn. Her soft body yielded against his hard one, their forms crushed tight against each other.
Mark couldn’t get enough of her taste, her feel. His tongue slid across hers, his teeth gently scraping her lips. Willow’s body was pulsing, her blood humming as she tried to get closer. She hadn’t felt this way in years, and she desperately wanted more. When his hand slid around the expanse of her waist to reverently cup her breast, she gasped and pulled back, staring deeply into the black depths of his eyes. She gasped again when his palm rubbed over her nipple, his fingers gently kneading the soft swell.
“I think,” he began, his voice husky. “That we,” he nibbled lightly on her bottom lip. “Should go to lunch.” Willow blinked, her hazy brain having trouble grasping his words.
“Wha?” She mumbled, the feel of his hand on her breast going a long was towards making her nonsensical. Couple that with his hard length pressed against her, and his mouth teasing hers, and coherent thought had pretty much taken a hike. He chuckled, the deep, throaty sound adding yet another layer to her stupor.
“I want to know who you are, Willow, before I take you.” Her breath hitched again, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she told herself to start breathing before she passed out. He brushed a kiss across her forehead, before reluctantly releasing her. Her body immediately reacted to the loss, and she shivered, suddenly feeling cold. Mark pulled out a cigarette, his eyes roaming over her flustered face. Just as he was about to say ‘fuck it’ and plunder her sweet little body, a knock reverberated through the room.
Flashing him a smile, she turned to answer the door. Mark lit his cigarette, admiring her slim legs, and the curve of her ass through her denim shorts. *God, she’s gorgeous* he thought, smoking absently, craning his neck to see who was at the door. He scowled when he recognized Xander.
“What do you want, Xan?” Willow asked, feeling the pleasant tingles recede to give way to renewed tension. Xander offered her a sheepish smile.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Willow crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. He tried to walk past her into the room, but she blocked him.
“I don’t understand you. That was something so huge, and you kept it from me, her mother, and Giles. Why?”
“I didn’t think that you’d want to know. I mean, honestly, she was having that. . .thing’s baby. It’s not like it was Angel’s. When he had his soul, that is.” Xander explained.
“It wouldn’t have mattered to me. Buffy is my friend, and I love her. You made it so she had to go through that alone. You even made sure that it took Spike five years to find out he had a child. Where do you get off making decisions for other people? It started with lying to Buffy about me doing the spell, and it just snowballed from there. It’s getting so I don’t know you anymore.” Willow shook her head, her tear-filled eyes searching his face. She’d hoped to see remorse for his actions, but all he seemed to be was sorry he got caught. “Why did you want to find her, if you were so disgusted by her son?” She asked him wearily, wiping the tears away.
“Because, I do love her, and I miss her. I’m willing to look past her. . .” Suddenly, Willow was pulled away from the door, and Xander found himself faced with one pissed off Indian. Mark had heard more than enough out of him.
“You. Need. To. Leave.” Mark told him, stressing each word. His eyes were blazing and his jaw was clenched.
“I don’t think this is any of your business.” Mark’s hands clenched into fists, and he struggled not to plow one right into his face.
“Where Anne and Matt are concerned, it is my business,” he growled. Willow moved up beside him, lightly resting a hand on his arm. Xander looked confused, not understanding who Mark was talking about.
“Who the hell is Anne?” Mark’s eyes shut, and he silently wondered how Spike had managed no to kill this idiot.
“Buffy.” Willow supplied, worried eyes trained on Mark. Xander smirked as a thought occured to him.
“Watch out, Will. Looks like you’ll have to deal with the ‘Ghost of Buffy’ with this one.” The younger man didn’t have time to react before Mark fisted his hand in the front of his shirt, and yanking him forward.
“Let’s you and me come to an understanding, shall we?” His pleasant smile was offset by the deadly gleam in his eyes. “I’m not soulless. I’m not evil. And I am certainly NOT a ‘thing’. But, I will kill you if you hurt anybody that I care about, and that includes those that they care about.” His implication of Spike was clear, not that Mark was concerned that the vampire couldn’t handle this loser, it was just the point he was trying to get across. With an icy glare, he shoved the brunette away and slammed the door. Turning to Willow, he caught the look of uncertainty in her eyes. Cursing Xander to a fiery and painful death, he pulled her to him, his mouth crushing hers in a kiss that told her just who he wanted. When he pulled away, they were both panting heavily.
“I think, we need to go to lunch.” She said, breathlessly, he entire body trembling from the power of the kiss.
“Yeah.” He agreed, stepping back from her. Together, they turned and left the room, neither caring where Xander had gone.
~*~*~
With a deep, unnecessary breath, Spike raised his hand and knocked on Anne’s door. He was pleased to see that she had, indeed been doing well for herself, despite the means she had to go through to get it. He listened to the movement on the other side of the door in the second before it swung open, revealing Anne. Her dark hair hung in a braid down her back, allowing her slender shoulders to be exposed. Her top was a pink scoop necked peasant blouse, and she had on a pair of white capri leggings. She smiled wide when she saw him.
“Hi, come on in Spike.” She said, and just like that, the barrier was lifted. He smirked when he walked through, before handing her a bouquet. Her eyes lit up, and she squealed a little before taking them.
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She sighed, inhaling the scent of the wildflowers.
“Not as beautiful as you.” He murmured, sliding a hand down her cheek. She practically glowed at that, and she leaned up to brush a kiss across his mouth. They both savored the moment, before a tiny voice broke them apart.
“Mommy?” They both turned to see the dark haired little boy, dressed in a pair of shorts and a Scooby t-shirt. Spike stared longingly at the boy, wanting to scoop him up and keep him safe for eternity.
“Matt, come here. I want you to meet Spike.” The adults exchanged a glance before Spike lowered to his knee to be at eye level with the boy.
“I like your coat.” The boy said shyly.
“Thank you. I like your shirt.” Matt beamed with pride, his tiny chest puffing out to make Scooby seem bigger.
“He’s my favrit. Spike’s a funny name.” The vampire grinned at that.
“Yes, I suppose it is.” He agreed. “I have another, if you would rather call me that. It’s William.”
“Nah, I like Spike.” Matt took a tiny step closer. “You talk funny too.”
“Yeah, I’m from England. You know where that is?”
“Yea, it’s cross the oshun.” Matt answered, smiling again. Spike returned the grin. Anne watched the exchange with a combination of amusement and terror, feeling as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop. “C’n I ask you a kestion?”
“Sure.” Spike settled in a bit more comfortably, enjoying the child.
“Are you my daddy?”