41. Christmas Day
Dawn watched me with expectation on her face as I opened the present she’d deposited into my hands. It was obviously a book, and as I ripped off the beautiful red and green paper, tears filled my eyes as I read the title: “That’s Not My Monster.” Blinking back the tears, I flipped through. Each page of the board book depicted a different brightly-colored monster with different textures for a baby to feel until the end when it showed a cute monster that was the reader’s monster.
She sounded worried. “Is it okay? I wanted to get something for the baby, and I just kinda ran across it at the bookstore. Made me smile. But apparently, makes you cry.”
I shook my head with emphasis. “No. No. It’s perfect. It’s just that it’s the first gift I’ve received for the baby, and that’s. . .” How could I possibly explain how I felt? The emotions were too complicated for a pat answer.
My sister plopped down on the sofa next to me. “I guess part of me knew it’d be weird to get you a gift so soon. It’s why I waited to give it to you until the end.”
Spike, Dawn, and I had just finished opening our presents to one another. I’d been especially excited about the home fetal Doppler that Spike bought me. We’d heard the baby’s heartbeat again at nine weeks. We were supposed to get a follow-up ultrasound with the local OB of our choice at eight weeks, but getting in to have it done before the holidays had been difficult. Spike was starting to be able to hear the heartbeat when I laid very still on the bed, and he pressed his ear to the space below my belly button. He wanted me to hear it, too. He also gave me a gift card for the mall, and Dawn and I planned to go after-Christmas shopping.
Dawn had loved the Kindle Paperwhite that we’d picked out for her, and she said she couldn’t wait to download some books for school. She’d already figured out how to charge and download “Gone Girl” and “The Fault in Our Stars.” I’d helped Spike renew his cell phone contract, and he’d gotten the iPhone 5 – in black, of course. Dawn had given me a coupon for a sister mani-pedi date, and she gifted Spike and me a movie pack with “Ruby Sparks” and “The Dark Knight Rises” and a bunch of popcorn and candy with the promise that she’d leave the house. We just had to name the date.
This children’s book just added the icing on top of a perfect day with my vampire, my sister, and the baby growing inside me.
“Buffy?” Dawn’s voice poked a hole in my reverie.
I sniffled and smiled, running my fingertips over the smooth book cover. “It’s okay. I love it and know he or she will, too.” Though the clinic allowed us to find out the sex of the baby after we heard the heartbeat the first time, Spike and I had decided not to. So far, I had no clue or inkling or mother’s intuition about whether the baby was a boy or girl. Weaning off meds would happen after Christmas, and I was already mourning the loss of my beloved nurse and the connection to the clinic.
Spike pushed open the front door, carrying in the folding table and two metal folding chairs that we were borrowing from Crystal. My co-worker appeared behind him with two more chairs. Leah tagged along at her mother’s heels, supervising the activity. She gave me and Dawn a little wave and skip as she entered the house, her white blond hair in two small buns on either side of her head and her pale cheeks tinged pink from exertion.
Leah paused in the living room, and her smile broadened, her eyes lighting up at all the decorations. “Pretty!” Then, she sniffed the air. “Smells so good!”
To protect me from potential gagging and disgust, Spike had prepared chicken and sausage gumbo and a variety of Cajun-y sides, and I’d made a couple of pies. (If I couldn’t stomach the gumbo even with lots of spicy sauce, I planned to munch on the mashed potatoes, greens, and salad.) We were just waiting for Willow, Oz, Giles, and George to arrive. Emily was spending the day with her family. Four extra people would not fit around the small kitchen table.
“Merry Christmas!” I exclaimed, setting aside the book and summoning the energy to stand and pull the little girl into a big hug. I squatted next to her, and she kept her hand on my shoulder. “What did Santa bring you?”
“A record player, and. . .” she hesitated, her forehead crinkling, “a doll that Mommy used to have.”
Crystal arrived back in the living room, shaking her head and smiling at her daughter. “She didn’t get a used doll. She got a Cabbage Patch Doll. Mommy used to have one when she was little. Did you know that they came out again this year?”
Dawn’s eyes grew round as she addressed Leah. “Whoa. You got a Cabbage Patch Doll?”
Leah beamed. “Yes!”
“I think Buffy had one, but I never did.” Dawn looked impressed.
“Mommy said I had to leave her at home.” Leah said, an apology in her tone.
“So, she wouldn’t accidentally leave it here and be upset later,” Crystal clarified. Leah was known to forget some of her horses at our house when she spent the night. Once, I found a mini-figurine tucked in my dresser drawer, and another time, one was in the refrigerator, between the milk and Spike’s container of blood. Luckily, she had no clue what was in the opaque pitcher.
I stroked Leah’s soft hair. “Spike and I have a couple of presents for you, too.”
Having finished setting up the table, Spike emerged from the bathroom. The light in his eyes told me how excited he was to give her the gifts. “We do, little Bit.”
Dawn was used to having to share her moniker and didn’t even flinch. She patted the sofa cushion. “Come sit by me?”
Leah scrambled up next to my sister scooting all the way back and bouncing her feet up and down. Shutting and locking the front door, Spike delivered the gifts we’d wrapped for her, and she looked between both of us and blinked.
“Go ahead,” I urged, giving up on finding my way back to sit on the other side of her. Instead, I sat on my behind and leaned back on my palms. Spike was suddenly by my side and sitting next to me, his fingers back behind him and nudging against mine. I smiled at him.
Leah began ripping off the paper, and she let out a shriek of joy as the toy horse came into view. She hugged the box close, strands of paper dangling down and her eyes closing tightly.
“What do you say?” Crystal reminded.
Her eyes popped open. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” Spike said as I adjusted so I could lay my head on his shoulder.
“Spike picked her out for you,” I pointed out.
There was a knock at the door then, and Spike kissed my temple and hopped to his feet. I moved to stand, and Spike offered me a hand up before peering through the peephole. He opened the door to reveal Willow and Oz along with Giles and George.
Willow smiled at Spike, Dawn, and me. “Happy holidays!”
“Same to you, Red,” Spike said softly as she stepped into our home.
I hugged my childhood friend and then moved to embrace Oz, but he shifted the stack of presents in his arms the same direction I went and then back again twice more until I giggled and gave up. He ended up slinging an arm around my shoulder and squeezing before pushing past and slipping the gifts under the tree. George patted my shoulder as he went by with a few of his own presents. Giles was last, and he tilted his head in that familiar-Giles-way and pulled me in for a tight hug, shifting his brown paper bag to one side.
“Happy Christmas, Buffy.”
My face was smashed against the black wool of his coat. Seems he’d prepared for a colder winter like Dawn. “Merry Christmas, Giles.”
“Now, where can I hang this bloody thing?” he asked, referencing said-coat.
I nodded at the coat rack by the door.
He glanced at the wooden stand, and his eyes misted over.
“Giles? You okay?”
He shook his head, and the moment was gone. “It’s just so like the one in your home in Sunnydale.”
“Huh. I hadn’t really thought of that.” I accepted his coat as he shrugged it off, hanging it up. “It does. Watcha got in the bag?”
Giles ignored me and moved to embrace my sister. I shut the door behind him and watched my friends and family all greeting one another and introducing themselves to Crystal and Leah. My heart swelled with happiness and love for these individuals. How long had it been since we’d celebrated a holiday together like this? I couldn’t remember.
The only time I could think of was Thanksgiving in Sunnydale, freshman year of college. I knew the memory of Dawn was false, but she’d been right there in the middle of the fray with the Native American spirit until I forced her to hide upstairs in Giles’s bedroom. Spike had had a chest full of arrows. My heart constricted. One stray arrow could have dusted him that day. . . the day I’d let him in for the first time. (I didn’t count the Acathla fight.) I moved to stand next to Spike and slipped my hand into his. He smiled down at me with such love; we’d hated each other so much then.
Willow broke free from her conversation with Crystal and retrieved a plastic Rubbermaid storage container. Handing it to me, she explained, “Cookies. I couldn’t give you some through the phone, so I thought I’d make them for today. Chocolate chip like you like.”
Spike took the dessert from me. “As I recall, you make a mean chocolate chip cookie. Perfect number of chocolate chips. Good crunch with just enough gooey in the center.”
Willow’s eyes brightened. “Why, Spike, I had no idea that you were such a cookie connoisseur.”
Spike smirked and lifted an eyebrow at me. “While your cookies are memorable, I prefer one kind in particular.” Then, he headed to the back of the house and left me standing there with my mouth open. Was he referring to. . .? No. It wasn’t possible.
Willow gave me a funny look. “What’s he – ?”
Crystal approached then, holding Leah’s hand. Leah clutched her horse still in the box while her mom held the book Spike had picked for her. “We’re headed out, Buffy. Merry Christmas and thank you again for Leah’s gifts. She loves them.”
“Thank you!” Leah bounced up on the balls of her feet. “Merry Christmas!”
“You’re welcome,” I said, smiling at the little girl’s enthusiasm. “You’ll have to tell me her name later, okay?”
“Okay! And read the books when I come over?”
“Of course! Merry Christmas to you both. Thanks for letting us use your table.”
Crystal nodded. “Anytime.”
“Drive safe. Text me when you get home?”
“Will do.”
After they were gone, I made sure that Oz and George who were talking near the Christmas tree didn’t want anything to drink yet, squeezed by Dawn and Giles’s conversation, and found my way into the kitchen where Spike was stirring the gumbo, and Willow was setting the tables.
“Hey,” I greeted them and opened the cabinet where the glasses were kept, pulling out seven and arranging them on the only available counter space next to the pies and Willow’s cookies.
Spike settled the lid back into place on our largest pot and brought the spoon over. “Smell, love?”
“Funny day when my nose is more sensitive than yours.” I leaned over and barely let myself sniff the spoon. Nothing. No intense urge to run for the hills. I inhaled again.
Spike was watching my face intently. “Anything?”
“Honestly? No.” Relief washed over me. On a normal day when I wasn’t pregnant, I dearly loved Spike’s gumbo. “Maybe all the spices are enough to trick my nose into submission?”
Willow let out a soft peal of laughter.
“What’s so funny?” I asked. It was nice to hear her laughing.
She shrugged, her green eyes dancing as she paused in arranging the napkins. “It’s just funny to see you two together. I guess I’ve just been thinking about the last holiday we celebrated with Spike. Was it that Thanksgiving? The one in Sunnydale when I got all indignant about the Chumash tribe?” She put a finger to her lips as if deep in thought.
Spike regarded Willow, lowering the spoon. “Are we forgetting the bloody bear and the arrows in my chest while I was tied to a chair? Hardly call that a celebration.”
“Sorta deserved,” I noted. “I mean, you were taunting us all day in your state of half-starvation and lack of bite. I’ve never seen anyone quite so pitiful.”
Spike figuratively poked me in return. “And you were furiously stirring the what’s-it and whining about the lack of dinner rolls with your bottom lip stuck out. Pot. Kettle. Black.”
I planted my hands on my hips, feeling a thrill of desire at our moment of banter – desire I hadn’t felt in a while in my constant state of exhaustion. “I was trying to make Thanksgiving special.”
Willow had resumed her duties. “And just like that, you’re in love, Spike’s cooking in your kitchen for the friends who used to hate him, and you’re pregnant with his baby. I like to think I predicted it.”
Spike snorted playfully. “If only it were that easy.”
I flicked his arm with my finger, a far cry from the punch I used to smash into his nose. “Hmph. Seems to me that you had something to do with it not exactly being easy.”
Indignation on his face, Spike flinched away. “Hey, I was just the guy in love with you. You were the stubborn one.”
“Who’s calling who ‘stubborn’?”
He grinned. “Starting to go in circles, love. We could do that all night with a long list of adjectives.”
Willow sighed happily as she adjusted the table décor and stepped back to evaluate her handiwork. “Ah, true love. Do all your fights go this way now?”
I laughed. “This? Pfff. This isn’t a fight.”
“Nope. It’s foreplay.” Spike bit his bottom lip in that way that drove me absolutely crazy, and he leaned in and gave me a gentle, lingering kiss that sent tingles flying all over my body. Those stupid hormonal inserts couldn’t end soon enough for me.
I pushed back on his chest and smiled at Willow. “Don’t you and Oz reminisce like this?”
Her cheeks turned crimson. “Maybe a little.” She paused. “Sometimes. Oz has more energy than you’d think given his laidback-ness.”
A familiar throat cleared from the doorway. All attention on him, Giles entered the kitchen, bearing the brown bag that I’d noticed earlier. Making clear eye contact with Spike, Giles handed over the bag. Spike accepted the offering with reverence, and I felt like I was holding my breath as he slid a bottle of alcohol free of the paper.
Spike was quiet for a moment, more Oz-like than normal. He soberly ran a thumb over the label. Then, when I felt like I might burst out of my skin for a reaction of some sort, he said, “Aberlour is a damn fine whisky. Thank you.”
Giles ducked his head and pretended to study the placemats on the table. “Congratulations were in order, and well, a thank you for. . . for taking care of Buffy. You’ve been. . . very good to her.”
“We’ll break it open after dinner.” Spike set the bottle securely behind the sides on the opposite counter.
“That’s what I was hoping.” Giles sounded casual, but I knew there was more there that he wasn’t saying, that I didn’t know if he’d ever say out loud.
My heart full to the bursting, I slipped both arms around Spike’s midsection as he rejoined me, and my eyes filled with tears. Stupid tears. Spike wiped a tear off my cheek, and I laughed a little shakily. “It’s the hormones. I cry at the drop of a hat.”
Spike’s voice was deep with emotion. “Bloody hat. Always dropping.”
The doorbell sang out. I swiped at my other eye. “I got it.”
I hurried to the front room, only to see that Dawn was checking the peephole. She shrieked at what she saw, making my heart jump in my chest, and then, she threw open the door with gusto.
“Xander!” My mouth fell open as I watched my sister bear hug my other best friend, the other part of the Scoobie gang that had been missing this holiday season.
I ran forward and joined my sister in the hug fest. Xander’s arm was strong around me.
When I couldn’t stand the not knowing anymore, I bounced back and stared at him, his dark hair a little longer than normal and hanging slightly over his roguish eye patch. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
He shrugged one shoulder in his familiar, affable way. “Well, I couldn’t let you guys all get together without me on Christmas.” He held up a package that was very squished. “And I had to bring the rolls.”
My laugh was long and loud. He was thinking about that Thanksgiving, too. “Guess you don’t have any diseases to distract you from your mission.”
He glanced behind him and then winked conspiratorially at me. “Shhh. She doesn’t know about that part.”
“Who?” Dawn asked.
A tall blonde appeared out of the shadows. She gave us a little sheepish smile and said with a perfect Giles-ian accent, “Hi. I’m Carrie. Happy Christmas!”
Xander’s Slayer girlfriend was sweet and spunky, had a love of all things kitten, and was old enough that her connection with Xander didn’t seem weird. She bonded with Spike and Giles over British things that I didn’t understand, and she congratulated me on the pregnancy.
Before I knew it, everyone was rubbing elbows around the tables in our tiny kitchen, eating gumbo, reminiscing, and laughing. My heart had never been so full.
42. The night of the Krewe of Endymion
The ground was damp with rain from the earlier thunderstorms, but that didn’t stop the people from showing up in droves for the postponed Krewe of Endymion parade. There was a special energy to Mardi Gras season in New Orleans – one that I didn’t imagine could be found anywhere else in the world in the same way. I had no idea before I lived here that Mardi Gras Day was a state holiday. Everyone got to celebrate Fat Tuesday.
When Spike and I first moved to the Crescent City, I’d laughed when he said he wanted to take me to the Mardi Gras parades. Why would I possibly want to stand around in a crowd, waiting for all those floats to go by? I knew without a doubt that I would not be among the many who screamed my head off for beads, and I certainly knew I didn’t want to be crushed by drunk people jostling for cheap trinkets.
Still, Spike had convinced me that I had to go, and the glow of excitement in his blue eyes convinced me. At that point in our relationship, I didn’t push away his happiness but invited it in. I couldn’t resist him, and he knew it.
So, I’d gone with arms crossed, one stake tucked up a sleeve and another in my boot.
The energy of the crowd was contagious, people of all ages reduced to children with looks of wonder on their faces at the colorful floats, music of the marching bands, and beautiful costumes. As Spike had explained the history of that first parade, I was impressed by how much he knew about the past (though I shouldn’t have been surprised), the importance of the parades, and the decadence of the balls that followed the processions.
When the first masked man on top of a float decorated like a glittery, cotton candy-colored cloud pointed his finger at me, gave me a nod, and tossed me a giant string of beads with a medallion that changed colors from gold to green to purple, I was hooked.
Soon, I was waving my arms around, bouncing on the balls of my stylish but comfortable boots, and screaming at the top of my lungs for the beads and other baubles. Spike was grinning from ear to ear at my enthusiasm.
As the parade passed, I’d ringed his neck with several strands of various-shaded beads, and he’d carried the trinkets I’d garnered: a teddy bear, coins, a few plastic cups emblazoned with the parade’s theme, and a porcelain doll dressed in Mardi Gras colors. The energy between us had become palpable. After we’d dusted a few vamps on the way back to our car (crowds tended to draw them in New Orleans), we couldn’t stop touching each other and barely made it home without pulling over on the side of the road to make love.
Needless to say, we went to a lot of the evening parades after that, and Mardi Gras became one of our special times together.
One year, I’d spied a demon on one of the floats. He was a shifter demon who fed off human souls and was no doubt headed to the ball to have a feast. George had secured Emily, Spike and me medallions to get into the ball, and Emily and I had had so much fun dressing up and forcing Spike to ditch his usual attire for something fancier and out of his comfort zone. He’d grumbled but had a grand old time “sussing out the soul-sucking git” and helping us slay him.
Now, Spike and I were sharing our love of the season with my sister as well as Shane and Charlotte, who’d flown in for a visit now that my pregnancy was well into the second trimester, and a baby was becoming an inevitability. Charlotte was very excited about having a half-sibling/cousin, and Spike and I had decided to be honest with our son or daughter about the connection the way we planned to be honest about everything else within reason and as was “developmentally appropriate.”
Second trimester had heralded the disappearance of the total exhaustion and brought with it the return of my ability to eat grilled meat but also intense levels of acid reflux and annoyingly persistent constipation that I’d so far held at bay with Zantac and Colace. My poor vampire. Though my sex drive was back and the inserted-and-injected hormones were a thing of the past now that the placenta was well-established, my other symptoms were a force to be reckoned with. Distraction was the name of the game, and luckily, Spike was good – no, an expert – at getting my mind off the not-so-fun bodily side effects of the pregnancy. And he was incredibly patient. Guess he had lots of practice.
Other than that, baby was growing well and passed the nuchal fold test and one more round of genetic blood tests that the OB insisted on despite the results from the CCS testing. I had an anterior placenta, so the placenta attached on the belly button side of my uterus, which would make it harder for me to feel movements at first and might make me appear to carry small, according to Google. I still didn’t have much of a bump, which Charlotte was disappointed in. She made Spike promise to text Shane pictures of my growing bump after she left.
Dawn and Charlotte were excited by the idea of a parade and had taken up residence right next to the chain blocking off the crowd from the parade route along Canal Street. Spike, Shane, and I hung back behind them. We’d arrived after dark, and the parades took a while to make its way to Canal, so we were well ahead of the game. The only thing we didn’t have were the little folding chairs that many parade goers brought to stake out the parade route.
Dawn couldn’t get over how much Shane looked like Spike from the eyes, height, cheekbones, and general appearance to his mannerisms and personality. He was a little less intense than Spike, but he was loving and nurturing toward his daughter. I’d caught Dawn glancing back at the three of us more than once, and she’d made casual conversation with me but gazed at Shane. I wasn’t sure what her attention toward him meant.
I gave her an obvious-much sisterly stare. Her eyes had widened just slightly, and she made an abrupt turn back around. She was now leaning toward Charlotte, who was asking a question or making a comment.
Shifting around the puddle we were standing near and tucking my hand in Spike’s, I smiled up at him. He was smirking at Dawn’s attentions toward his relative. I elbowed him, and he half-grunted, half-laughed.
At my glare, he nuzzled my cheek. “I’m gonna take Shane to grab a beer. Want anything?”
My forehead relaxing at his affection, I nodded. “Water please.” I was working on staying hydrated for baby.
“You got it, pet.” He turned to Shane. “Want a beer?”
Shane grinned. He did look kind of miserable standing in the damp cool air waiting for the festivities to start. “I’d love one.”
“Dawn? Charlotte? Want anything?” I asked.
“I’ll take a beer. Sam Adams. Light.” Dawn said. It was still weird for my little sister and alcohol consumption to be in the same vicinity in my brain.
Spike snorted. “Abita, it is.” Dawn gave him her patented stare, and he added, “You’re in New Orleans, Bit.”
“Fine.”
Charlotte’s curls were frizzing a little in the humidity, but they framed her face adorably. “Dr. Pepper please, Dad.”
“Got it,” Shane said, ruffling her hair. She was rapidly approaching teenage-dom, but she didn’t seem to mind. I guessed losing your mother made you cherish the little things like closeness with your father a little longer or maybe differently.
Spike ran his hand over the small of my back. “Be back soon. You be okay, love?” He meant: was I going to stay put if I saw a vamp or other demon-y type? He’d made me promise to let him do the dirty work or at the very least let him go with me. We hadn’t sorted much out since our before Christmas meeting with Giles and everyone, so there was a reason Spike was more than a little concerned.
“Of course. I have my chaperones,” I teased. In the distance, I could hear music and the sounds of the crowd screaming for treasures. “Hurry back.”
Spike cocked his head, listening. “They’re still far enough away, pet. You know how slow these things go.”
I felt the anticipation of the upcoming fun. “And I know how long the lines get.” The bars along the parade route often had lines that curved around the street corners.
“I have my ways around that.”
“Of course, you do. No biting.”
He picked up my hand and nibbled my index finger. “Only you, love.”
I rolled my eyes. “How romantic.”
He grinned again and then headed away with Shane. My heart tugged in my chest at Spike’s retreating form. I loved him.
I joined my sister at the chain blockade, clasping the metal links with both hands. “My baby sister is drinking beer.”
“Got news for you, I’ve also smoked cigarettes and had s. . .” She trailed off and glanced at Charlotte, “done other things that adults do in addition to drinking beer.”
“Little sisters aren’t supposed to do that stuff, especially when they’re that much younger than me.”
“If it would make you feel better, I won’t tell you.”
I looped my arm through hers. “Nah. I’m always here to listen.” My eyes widened at the thought of what I was offering. “Just not too many details.”
She hugged my arm in response. “Got it.”
I bent forward and asked Charlotte, “You excited?”
She nodded happily, her curls bobbing around her, as she hugged herself in anticipation. “So excited!” She paused uncertainly. “What if they don’t throw me anything?”
“They throw kids all the good stuff,” I reassured her. “And if we catch something good that you want, it’s all yours, okay?”
She beamed. “Yay! Thanks!”
Spike and Shane didn’t get back in time for the beginning of the parade, and I was amused to see that the theme of Endymion was “Happily Ever After.” Charlotte’s eyes were filled with joy when she caught her first strand of beads, and Dawn helped her put them on. Soon, my sister and the younger girl were caught up in the spirit of the parade, shouting and waving their arms in the air, dancing to the music of the marching bands going by, and ooo-ing and ah-ing over the street performers.
Something about the thunderstorm’s departure drew people out of their homes, and Canal was more crowded than usual. While I was enjoying myself, I was also keenly aware of what was going on around me, especially without Spike there to help keep watch. My hand was protectively over my belly when one drunk man next to me intruded into my personal space, his elbow dangerously close for comfort. Another woman knocked Charlotte sideways when she reached over the chain in front of her to snag a light up set of beads that were sailing through the air. Charlotte stumbled into Dawn who steadied her and asserted, “Watch it.” The woman ignored my sister. As Dawn traded places with Charlotte, my eyes scanned the crowd on the other side of the street.
My heart nearly stopped in my chest as I saw a familiar tall figure weaving in and out of the oblivious parade watchers.
What the hell? I stared. I couldn’t help myself.
He stopped directly across from us and slowly turned his head to return my gaze, the corner of his mouth turning up.
As he lifted his hand in some sort of greeting or other signal of acknowledgment, I blinked, and a towering float scooted to a halt in front of us, blocking the view.
Charlotte and Dawn’s voices filled my ears as everyone around us called out for prizes and beads, and knickknacks rained down. Panic filled me, but I didn’t want to alarm my sister and Shane’s daughter. Dawn slung a long chain of giant purple beads over my head, and I tensed but managed to smile at her. She gave me a funny look but had to reach out to grab a teddy bear flying at her head.
All I knew was that I couldn’t wait for the float to go by. An eternity seemed to pass before the float continued its journey past us, and everyone was comparing their treasures and smiling.
I startled and emitted a gasp as a hand moved around my waist and covered my belly.
“Hey, love. What’s wrong?” The tightness in my shoulders, neck and back eased at Spike’s touch.
I accepted the cold, damp bottle of water Spike handed me as Shane hugged his daughter, and she showed off her wealth of beads.
My eyes wide, I gazed into Spike’s bright blue ones before turning my head in the direction I’d seen the face of my ex-lover.
The figure wasn’t there anymore, and I scanned the crowd near and beyond where he’d been. Nothing.
Angel was gone.
And I wondered if what I’d seen was a figment of my imagination.
43. One night after work
A couple of weeks had passed, and I hadn’t told Spike what I’d seen – or thought I saw – the night of the parade. Part of me thought that I’d imagined the whole thing – my anxieties coming to life in front of me. After all, Spike had reached out through his channels, and I’d reached out through mine, but no one had seen or heard from Angel. I didn’t want to worry Spike and send him into a tailspin if it was nothing.
Still, I knew that keeping something like from him was not of the good. We told each other everything.
Well, maybe not everything.
There was still plenty about Spike that was a mystery to me, and I loved that about him. . . that he had a long history before me that I couldn’t possibly know everything about. Nor would I want to. I liked that there was more for me to learn about him.
And I still had a pesky penchant to hold my feelings close. He was usually good at ferreting them out of me, but this time, I was careful about holding back. I felt guilty about it but still.
Maybe I was kind of hoping Angel would circumvent Spike and come to me directly because then, I’d get the real truth out of my ex. Not information bungled up by his hostility toward his progeny or a memorandum mishandled by his blue god messenger.
I was also pissed. If Angel was in New Orleans and being all stalker-y and weird, I wanted to call him on it.
Still, two weeks had passed and nothing. So, I was thinking it was my imagination. It had to be.
Being alone to clean and close the coffee shop didn’t help clarify my thoughts. Roger had ducked out early, claiming he had a stomach bug. That information alone made me anxious because I didn’t want to get sick. I was relieved when he practically sailed out of the coffee shop, and I sprayed Lysol on everything, including the cash register. Of course, he left the register unbalanced. I wrote a note to Mary that Roger had been on ringing-up-the-customers duty. Then, I locked the safe, flipped off the shop lights, set the alarm, and locked up.
I found myself on a quiet Royal Street, couples meandering together in the direction of Jackson Square or Bourbon Street and peering into the window displays of closed stores. Spike wasn’t working and had gone to help Emily with a vamp nest. He’d parked the car for me on a side street toward Frenchman, so I headed away from the more bustling areas of the Quarter and into the shadows.
When I was halfway to the car, I heard a sound. . . something like a footstep. My ears pricking, I kept going, not varying my movements. My heart was pounding in my chest, but my body wasn’t giving me any vampy signals. I toyed with calling Dawn or Spike, but I needed to stay alert.
Then, I heard a much closer, distinctive footstep, and I spun, hurtling myself at the tall figure who’d somehow crept up behind me. Slipping a stake from my sleeve into my palm, I slammed my follower’s body against the wall of a nearby building, and a masculine cough filled my ears.
“Buffy. It’s me.” Angel.
Furious, I stepped away from him, letting go of his shirt and trying to draw him in the light. I still couldn’t see his face. “I knew it!”
“Y-you did?” His voice was the same, but something was different. . . off. It’d been a long time since I’d seen him, but in the way that the intimacy between exes remained even if faded, my senses were picking up on something strikingly but indecipherably new.
I continued talking, my brain racing to sort out the signals I was getting. “You were at the parade, weren’t you? When you pulled the disappearing float act, I thought I was imagining the whole thing.”
“Look. I didn’t want to interrupt your family time. And who was that guy with you?” Was that a hint of jealousy? Still?
A flicker of annoyance flitted through my stomach. My forehead furrowing, I crossed my arms, taking care not to draw attention to my still flat midsection. “How is that any of your business?”
“Which part?” He sounded genuinely baffled.
“Either. Both.” And then, it hit me. His chest was rising and falling and not just when he was talking. Impulsively, I re-traversed the distance between us and pressed my palm against his chest. The warmth was undeniable. “Y-you’re human.” I held my own breath, and I felt his heartbeat faintly against my fingertips. “H-how?” I purposefully dropped my hand away from him and hugged my ribcage as my traitorous teenage heart skipped a beat.
He held his palms up to me. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that I did it for you – ”
“Did it for me?” What the hell?
“Yes. So I could warn you.” He was serious.
I shook my head. “That makes no sense. Warn me about what? And why did you have to become human to warn me?”
“It was the only way I could get back here with the information you needed.”
“And what information do I need, Angel? And what do you mean about getting back here?” The cryptic was getting ridiculous. Was he just like this with me? In the back of my mind, I didn’t remember it driving me this crazy.
“About the prophecy.”
“What prophecy?”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “You know. The one Giles found.”
“How the hell do you know what Giles found?” So, that came out a little harsher than I meant it to.
“Because I did the same research. Only I have other resources. Resources that I can still access because I used to be head of Wolfram and Hart in L.A.”
“I thought the Senior Partners cut their ties with you.”
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather coat. New Orleans was not the place for leather; he had to be sweating. “They did, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t still have people who have access to information. Wolfram and Hart have massive. . . well, you can’t even begin to comprehend the vast resources they have.”
My jaw clenched in impatience. “You’re telling me they’re vast. So, they’re vast. What more do I need to comprehend?”
“Did you always use to question everything?”
“Um, yes.” I laughed despite my determination to hold my ground. “Just tell me. What’s so important about the prophecy? You are talking about the vampire witches and the Hellmouth sitch?”
A light flicked on in the building across from us.
Angel drew his eyebrows together. “We should move. We don’t know who’s listening. Do you have somewhere. . . private that we could go?”
“Our car is around the corner.” I purposefully said the “our.” My heart squeezed a little thinking of Spike. This whole conversation with Angel brought me back to being a kid again when I was head over heels for the mysterious hot guy, and it felt . . . wrong. But I had to get the information. I mentally steeled myself.
Angel’s face flickered with uncertainty. Then, he said, “We’ll turn the radio on.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
In an odd parallel to my intimate conversation with Spike in the Honda not too many months ago, I found myself sitting with my ex in the car, having another serious conversation. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Put them on the steering wheel? Fiddle with the air conditioner buttons? I settled on putting the key in the ignition and turning on the radio. I purposefully tuned in to a Cajun station, the jaunty accordion, fast tempo, and Cajun French a reminder of where and when I was.
“So,” I said, my voice small and tight. “Spill.”
His knee wedged against the glove compartment, Angel’s form was large in the passenger seat, and he fumbled for the latch to push the seat back. That managed, he asked, “Which part?”
I studied his thigh. “Start wherever.”
“Well, the human thing and the prophecy thing go together but not really,” he hedged.
“The beginning would be good.”
Angel ran a hand over the stubble on his jaw and was silent for several seconds. Finally, he said, “It started with trying to help Illyria. Well, Fred really. Both of them. Something started happening with Illyria. Several years ago, Wes came up with a way to siphon away the god’s powers that the human body couldn’t contain, but it turns out that that was only a temporary measure. In the last few years, the human. . . shell has been deteriorating. It came with some disorientation, too, but not the time skipping like before. Illyria didn’t notice much at first. She had moments of staring or would lose bits of time. When she finally noticed, she sought me out.”
I had no idea they’d gone their separate ways for a while but decided that it didn’t matter. “What made her notice?”
“I guess in her grief over Wes, Illyria took on Fred’s appearance after the battle in L.A. She even lived for a bit of time as a human. She had a job, lived in an apartment in Seattle. The glitching started, and one day, she accidentally killed the young son of one of her neighbors, a boy she’d befriended. She woke out of the trance covered in his blood, and it reminded her of the time before. . . when she killed all of us because she thought we were out to destroy her.”
“I didn’t know that,” I whispered and felt a funny sensation in my belly. “Spike?”
“Dust. We were both dust in the wind.”
“Oh.” The feeling in my belly rippled again. It was odd. . . like a cross between bubbles and a little tickle. “But that got straightened out. Obviously.” God, I wanted Spike here with me, so I could touch him and make sure he was still whole.
Angel nodded his head once. “It did. And when it happened again, Illyria sought me out.”
“For help.”
“Yeah. I started out by contacting my sources at Wolfram and Hart. Got ahold of Wes’s documentation about what happened with Illyria the first time around, and without answers there, I sought out texts at the al-Qarawiyyin library in Morocco. It was the only place with documents about the ancient ones and has many writings about Slayers and vampires. After we obtained a good bit of information there, Illyria was really struggling, and I had her examined by a physician and scientist who used to work at the Wolfram and Hart in Italy. He’d retired from the law firm and was living at an old folks’ retirement home in Florida of all places. Orange trees on the property and everything.”
“Sounds luxurious. Do the Senior Partners allow you to retire? Does anyone who works for Wolfram and Hart live to old age?” I was trying to picture what their retirement plan might look like. So, there was a little sarcasm there.
Angel chuckled. “Well, he did.”
“Good for him.” I still couldn’t comprehend who in their right mind would ever work for the evil law firm. I still didn’t understand why Angel had chosen that path.
“He did some sort of mix of magic and scientific evaluation, and he concluded that Illyria needed a little bit of humanity in her to maintain the body. One way to do that was to insert a piece of a person’s soul into her. Illyria decided that if she had to increase her levels of humanity, she wanted that bit to be Fred. So, I decided to help the god.”
“Oh my god.” That was. . . that was. . . “Oh my god.”
“Right.” Angel’s face betrayed nothing as he stared at the car dash.
“How did you feel?” Now, I sounded like a Dr. Phil wannabe, so I amended the question. “I mean, I thought Fred’s essence was destroyed.”
“We thought so, too, but Illyria admitted that total annihilation was unlikely.”
“She couldn’t have told you that before?” I remembered what Spike had said about the loss of Fred.
Angel glanced at me then, and I could read the sadness in his dark eyes. “I think Illyria was afraid. She knew that we’d stop at nothing to get Fred back. Odd thing for the god, being afraid.”
A thought flashed through my mind, and my voice hoarse with sudden emotion, I blurted, “How did you know Fred wasn’t at peace?” How did he know that Fred wasn’t in Heaven?
“We. . . well, I wanted to make sure of that after what happened to you.” He said this without betraying any lingering emotion he might have about it. “I entered a crossroads dimension on my own and spoke to an ancient being who could tell me more about Fred. He sent me on a journey across dimensions to find her, and in the process. . .” Angel trailed off.
“What?”
He hesitated and then reached across the center of the car, laying his warm hand atop mine. “In the process, I became human without the soul curse, and I-I’ve been wanting to tell you. . . to see if what you said about – ”
I jerked my hand away, and his palm landed on my thigh. The car suddenly seemed very small, but some internal resolve kept me rooted to the spot. It was my car, damn it. My hand settled on my belly, and I suddenly realized the feeling I’d had earlier was the baby. I just felt the baby move for the first time. . . in a car with Angel. Tears pricked my eyes, but I set my jaw. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m having a baby. A baby with Spike.”
Angel got the hint but didn’t remove his hand. “But it’s not Spike’s baby. Right? I’m guessing you used that man’s sperm. The one I saw at the parade. He’s Spike’s living relative, isn’t he?”
I glared at him. “The baby is Spike’s.” There would always be a place in my heart for Angel, but I could never say that out loud. It would be too confusing for Angel, especially when trying to explain that the space was one for old faded loves – the kind that were totally eclipsed by love for someone else. Then, I thought of Shane’s words. “You know, Shane asked me what would happen if you came back into my life with a permanent soul. One that wouldn’t disappear on us.”
“Shane?”
I huffed in irritation. “The sperm donor. Spike’s cousin.”
“Oh.”
“He was trying to figure out if he wanted to donate his sperm to us.” That spoke volumes right there. “You know what I realized?” Angel said nothing when I paused, so I continued, “That hurting Spike that way would destroy him. It would destroy me. I couldn’t. . . can’t do that to him.” To make things unquestionably clearer, I said, “I love him. He has my heart.”
“And if Spike were out of the picture?”
What the hell was Angel saying? I closed my eyes and said words that my 17-year-old – no, even my 22-year-old self never thought I’d ever say, “It wouldn’t matter.”
Angel’s warm heavy touch left my leg then. “I get it.” His tone told me that he did, and I felt a mixture of sadness and relief – sadness for him and sadness for 20th-century us.
“You still didn’t tell me what you know about the prophecy,” I whispered. “And if you found Fred.”
44. Later that night
Somehow, I drove the Civic home without wrecking it, and I burst through the front door of our house so hard that Spike jumped to his feet out of the recliner where’d he’d been dozing, the TV on low in the background.
Slamming the door behind me and making sure to slide all the locks into place, I scanned the room. “Where’s Dawn?”
Spike blinked in the dim lamplight. “Safe. Wards are up everywhere. She’s spending the night with Emily and George. Hitting the books. Why?” His blue eyes flickered with emotion that swirled from surprise to fear to. . . hurt as his nostrils flared.
“I saw Angel,” I whispered. I held up a hand. “And he’s gone now.”
Spike’s whole body went rigid, and he covered his hurt with sarcasm. “Can smell him on you from a mile away. It’s strong.”
Still holding onto the pain I saw in his eyes, I managed to stay calm. Now was the time for full disclosure. “I thought I saw him at the parade a couple of weeks ago, but I thought it was my imagination until he showed up tonight after I closed up the shop. He wanted to talk with me about Illyria and Dawn and the prophecy about vampire witches. We sat in the car.”
“At the parade?! You should have told me then!”
“I-I know. I’m sorry. I should have.” What had I been thinking?
“Bettin’ the car reeks.” He turned his head, breaking eye contact. “Did you greet the old poof with a kiss?”
“W-what? No!” Really? He thought that I’d do that after all this time with him? First, Angel being insanely jealous and now Spike. Been there. Done that. Really tired of it. “How could you even think that?”
“Don’t know. Peaches hasn’t been around in a while. No telling what ‘feelings’ might’ve come up when he showed up.” His fists balled. “And you’ve done it before.”
“Spike. Seriously.” I reached out for his arm. “I love you. Only you. We’re having a baby.”
He jerked away before I could touch him. “Probably not such a good idea. That.”
Now, I lost my temper. “Well, it’s a little late. Sorta have a bun in the oven.”
“It’s not really mine.” His voice broke on the last word.
My eyes welled with tears. “The baby is yours. Yours and mine. He or she carries our genes. You can’t deny that. Nothing will ever take that away from either of us. Even with that, genes don’t make a father. You know this. Look at me and Giles versus me and my dad.”
“Now that’s a fine bloody comparison.” Spike angled his face toward me without meeting my gaze, the light highlighting his cheekbones and leaving shadows in the hollows beneath. His nostrils spread again as he inhaled sharply. “Something’s different.”
“If you’d just let me – ”
Spike cut me off by grabbing my wrist and pressing my right hand to his nose. I wrenched away, but he followed my backward motion, smelling my jeans where Angel had touched me. “He’s different. What the bloody hell happened? Tell me!”
I hadn’t seen that level of intense anger in his eyes in a long time, and I felt the blood rush to my head as my heart rate tripped up a notch. “H-he’s human. Spike, you’re scaring me.”
He immediately backed off, practically stumbling back as if I’d hit him with my words. Tears glazed his eyes, and he turned his back to me as he buried his face in his hands. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his midsection from behind and pushed my face into the concave space where his backbone was, inhaling his scent. As he trembled, I kissed him and held him tighter.
“I-I’m so sorry, pet.”
“Shhh. You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t hurt the baby. We’re yours. I love you. You had a reaction. For good reason.”
He took a deep hesitating breath and ran his hands over the tops of both of mine. “Christ. I love you and the babe so much.” A heartbeat passed. His next words were filled with vulnerability. “Are you sure you want me? Angel’s all human and I’m assuming all permanently soul-having now.”
My heart aching for him, I considered how to answer this and landed on, “Do you remember how Shane called us back in the Baltimore airport?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to know what he asked me?” I’d never told Spike exactly what Shane and I had discussed.
“Maybe?” He sounded uncertain, so I pushed my fingers between his.
“He asked how I knew it was you that I wanted, and he wanted to make sure that if Angel showed up with a permanent soul someday, I’d still choose you. Ironic, huh?” It was ironic on more than one level. “I think he wanted to make sure that the baby would have two parents that loved one another. He was sure of you, maybe because you’re his relative, but he was less sure of me. Want to know what I told him?” When Spike waited, I inhaled deeply and broke free of our embrace. Not letting go of his hand, I moved to stand in front of him, so he had to see how earnest I was being. “I told him that if I ever did that to you, I couldn’t bear how hurt you’d be. If I hurt you that way, I’d break me, too. God, Spike, you’ve always been there for me except for that weird year when you were being a dope. I love you. I don’t want anyone else but you. Not ever again. You’re not perfect, but neither am I. We fit. Our strengths and weaknesses. You and me. Always have. . . even when I didn’t know it or didn’t want to know it.” I wavered for a moment and gave him a small smile, gesturing up and down at him. “Plus, you’re not bad looking, and you’re pretty good in the sack.”
“Just ‘pretty good’?” He sulked, sounding offended.
“The best,” I assured him. Had he forgotten all the times that he took me to the edge of oblivion and back the way no one else ever had?
He gathered me close then so that I could feel how much he wanted me. I shivered as a wave of desire overcame me.
He nuzzled into the hair on the top of my head. “Am torn, pet.”
“How so?”
“I want to know what my grandsire told you. I also really want to prove to you that I’m more than ‘pretty good.’”
“Me, too. The second part. Please,” I breathed. For once, I wasn’t scanning my body for symptoms of heartburn or constipation or exhaustion. My body was aflame with need, and I longed to feel him against me. . .
“Only if you shower. Get the Angel stench out.”
I laughed, pulled back, and headed toward the bathroom, snagging his hand again along the way. “Only if you come with.”
His sapphire eyes were dark with yearning and love as he drank me in. “That, I can do, pet.”
An hour later, we were completely sated for the moment and were blissfully cuddled up in our bed, blankets forming a cocoon around us in the darkness.
My forearms atop his, I nestled my hips back against him. “Don’t ever let go of me. Capisce?”
“You got it, love.” He kissed my ear and ran a gentle hand over my bare belly. I had the faintest of baby bumps. How did he never make me feel self-conscious about my body?
I suddenly remembered something. “I felt the baby move tonight. Well, I think that’s what it was.” I decided to leave out the part where Angel was sitting next to me when said movement happened. I wanted this to be a moment to cherish with Spike.
He gently pressed his hand down. “You did?”
“Uh huh. I don’t think you can feel it. It was so light that I almost dismissed it as me digesting something.” Or a message from the baby that Angel needed to go.
“Oh.”
I could hear Spike’s disappointment, so I reassured him, “It’s only the beginning, you know? Before you know it, you’ll feel him or her, too.”
His thumb stroked the skin over my belly button, and goosebumps flew over my arms. “Looking forward to it.”
Now, for the elephant in the room. “We should talk about what Angel told me.”
Spike didn’t even balk. He held me closer instead. “All right. Promise I’ll listen.”
“Without too many interruptions or fits of jealousy?” I teased.
He prickled for a moment but then relaxed against me. “Carry on, pet.”
I told him everything Angel had said about Illyria first. True to his word, Spike was attentive without reacting.
When I finished the first part, he asked, his voice rumbling against my back, “So, I don’t follow the part about how him becoming human is tied to the prophecy and warning us. And what about Fred?”
“I didn’t know the answer to any of it either.” It was almost like Angel was using all of it as an excuse to come back into our lives. “So, I asked. Honestly, it was a little convoluted.”
Spike snorted and said just what I’d been thinking. “Good word for it. Convoluted. He likes to insert himself where he’s not wanted. It’s always been a talent of his.” It seemed Spike agreed with me.
“You promised to behave,” I reminded him, squeezing his arm.
He sighed. “Enlighten me.”
“He found Fred. She was at peace.”
“As expected.” There was relief in Spike’s tone. “I’m glad of it. Thought she was completely gone. Disintegrated.”
“I know. Luckily, unlike some people we both know, Angel left her to be at peace.”
“Good of him.” Spike didn’t sound surprised. Angel and Spike’s relationship was complicated at best. Angel had done a lot to toy with Spike over the centuries. I also knew that Spike eventually learned to give as he got. But when it came to Fred and the L.A. contingent, most of whom were dead, Spike and Angel were on the same page in terms of affection and protectiveness.
“The problem is that Illyria is stuck in a human body that’s falling apart, and she needs a way to obtain a new one. She can’t just insert herself into a new body. Angel was clear about that. He knows Dawn is a dimensional key in a human body, but Illyria does not. And Illyria is frustrated with Angel for sending her to check to see if we were trying to conceive while he went travelling across dimensions.”
Spike was quiet for a few seconds. “My guess is he was trying to prevent Illyria from forcing Fred’s essence into her body or possibly doing something else to rend the fabric of time and space.”
I shrugged. “That’s what he said, but he also said that he couldn’t enter the dimension where Fred’s essence was without becoming human himself.” Now that I was older, I could see the habit Angel sometimes had of leaving out pertinent information.
“He became human for you, pet. No use denying it.” With his arms around me, Spike could acknowledge this without freaking out, but I still wasn’t sure how true that was.
“Maybe.”
Spike didn’t correct my doubt. “And that confirms that we were right to let the Bit come and stay with us.”
“Yep. We need to warn Dawn just in case.” I wanted to let her have one more night of semi-relaxation.
“What did Angelus say about this prophecy?”
“He knew we were trying to have a baby. He said Andrew told him. Andrew sometimes stays with Giles. My guess was that he found the spell that Giles was working on for us.”
“Nosy, perfidious little wanker.” Andrew had hero-worshipped Spike, and although he put on a big show of being annoyed with the young man’s attention, he’d secretly enjoyed it. . . except when Andrew did something like this.
“So, while Angel was at that library in Morocco, he found several prophecies about Slayers and children.” I trailed my fingertips over Spike’s forearm.
Spike repeated his earlier observation, “You mean, he was looking for a way to insert his nose into our business.”
I ignored this and continued, “He had them translated on his dimensional journey by some ancient benevolent being in the crossroads dimension. The same being who helped him locate Fred. Angel sent the translations to Giles right before we talked tonight.”
“No idea why he held onto them so long.”
“Me either, but I think he got back to this dimension not too long ago, and he said he was adjusting to being human again. He did say that he wanted to be upfront. Unlike Wes.” I shifted around to face Spike and pressed my cheek against his bare chest.
“Funny way of being upfront.”
“Preaching to the choir. We need to talk with Giles in the morning. Supposedly, the prophecy closest to the one Giles has been focused on is not about cows or women or pregnant women in general but about pregnant Slayers.”
Spike’s arms tightened around me. “Agreed. We’ll want to round in the rest of the crew, too. Where did the grand poof get off to? You said he was gone?”
“He left town. I told him to leave.” Angel had wanted to stay. “I think he’s still trying to help Illyria and trying to distract her from Dawn.”
“One thing he’s doing right.”
“That and the Fred thing.”
“That and,” Spike agreed, trailing his hand down my back. He sighed softly. “I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier, pet.”
“I’m sorry, too. I should have told you when I thought I saw him the first time.” I wasn’t sure what to say beyond that but knew I had questions. After taking time to choose my words, I said, “I thought you and Angel. . . I thought you were somewhat okay with each other after that time you spent together in L.A.” I knew things weren’t exactly smooth since they’d been out of touch, but it wasn’t like Spike and I sat around discussing Angel. He simply didn’t come up.
Spike’s voice was a low, deep rumble in my ear. “Grudgingly. On both sides. Angel and I. . . we’ve done a lot of bad things together over the years to others. . . and each other. There’s camaraderie in that. I’d kill for him if push came to shove and I thought the cause was right. I’m pretty sure he’d do the same for me.”
“So, why the reaction?” I knew the answer, but I wanted to understand more beyond my own hypotheses.
“You, love, will always be a sore spot for us.”
“The way Dru used to be?”
His response was quick. “Dru was different. She loved the best she knew how, but her psyche was damaged and twisted. Things are different with you.”
“I’m not damaged and twisted?” I joked. “Good to know.”
“It’s not just that. And before you say it, it’s not about being good or bad. Yeah, you inspired a lot of good in both of us, but that’s not the reason you’re different.”
“What is it then?” I had no clue what he was going to say.
“The give-and-take is different in a relationship with you, pet. When you’re in it, you’re in. Hell, even when you were one foot out the door with me most of the time, you were in it some of the time. I felt it.”
“I was.” Now that the years had passed, I saw it. I knew why Spike kept hanging around, and it wasn’t because I didn’t give him any crumbs.
“The potential for something deeper with you was there. No guy in his right mind wouldn’t want that. Angel included. And when I think about how you and I’ve been in it for so many years now, I realize how terrified I’d be to lose you. . . to lose what we have. I don’t know if. . . if my heart could take it. So, when my grandsire comes along and pulls his best Edward Cullen act with his brand-spanking-new human body. . .”
“You were more terrified than before.”
I felt his shoulders tighten. “Yeah. But that doesn’t excuse the reaction.”
“Do you remember what I said?” I held him closer. “I can’t – won’t do that to you.”
“I remember. I don’t want you to be broken if something happens to us.”
That wasn’t exactly what I meant earlier, but I went with it. “Same goes for you. If something happens to me, I want to know that you can go on.”
“I’d do my best.”
“After a sufficient period of mourning, of course. No pulling a Bella after she and Edward broke up.”
Though Spike knew I was referencing my own inevitable death, he grunted good-naturedly. “Of course.”
“I can’t believe you’re referencing Twilight.” First, Harry Potter. Now, Twilight.
“Look who’s talking. And sort it out with Dawn. She’s the one who’s reading about sodding sparkly vampires and making me watch those insipid excuses for movies while you’re at work.”
Now, my laughter filled the room. “Don’t tell me she likes them.”
“The Bit loves the drivel. And the author can’t even write a proper love triangle without pasting on that weird ending where their kid is bloody soulmates with the wolf.” He sounded so indignant that I had to hold back more of the mirth that was trying to push past my lips.
“Don’t worry.” I reached my arm up and patted his shoulder. “Our baby won’t be soul-bonded with Angel.”
“Let’s hope not,” Spike growled.
45. The morning of the anatomy scan, Part 1
Today was another big day for Spike and me: the anatomy scan to make sure baby has all his or her parts in the right place and working properly. The OB sent us to a MFM or maternal fetal medicine doc just because we did IVF; she said that she wanted to make sure we had a good scan given that IVF pregnancies are considered higher risk.
Spike and I were waiting at the MFM’s office very early even though our appointment wasn’t until 11 AM, mostly because there was no covered parking at the MFM’s office. The other reason was that there was a little restaurant downstairs, and Spike was indulging my stomach with beignets and decaf coffee. Surprisingly, I had very few cravings, unlike what the movies and pop culture indicated, but I was gaining weight steadily at a pound or so a week. My tiny baby belly was growing.
Anatomy scan was usually at 20 weeks, but given extenuating circumstances of Angel showing up on our doorstep, the appointment had gotten pushed back a week.
Since Angel’s visit, Spike and I were better than ever together, and all the local Slayers and Watchers were on high alert, but there were more people to bring into the loop.
Of course, this day wouldn’t be complete without Giles trying out a new form of technology. It was his idea to try out Group Me with the group because it would allow us to include everyone in the latest information from the situation we found ourselves in. (I had no doubt that he was doing it in attempt to keep up with George.)
The only problem with doing this was that Giles invited everyone from the contacts on his phone, and people were. . . Let’s just say they were formally named. I was Buffy Summers, and Spike was William Pratt.
Spike’s quiet voice echoed in the empty, dark café, his words jarring me out of my musings. “You know, it’s not so bad. He could have used any manner of other names for me that’d be right annoying.”
Careful to avoid the dusting of powdered sugar in front of me, I leaned on the table and regarded him. “You’re right. I can think of several.”
“Oh really?” His blue eyes twinkled over the rim of his coffee cup as he took a sip.
I tapped my index finger on my bottom lip as if deep in thought. “Let’s see. How about: ‘Buffy’s Latest Vampire Boyfriend.’ Or “The Vampire Who Killed Two Slayers.’”
“That’s not very creative, pet.”
“Oh really? Enlighten me with your creativity please.” I knew my responses were lame, but I wanted to know what Spike would come up with, so I could tease him.
“How about ‘That Devilishly Handsome Bloke Who Fought for a Soul and Won the Heart of the Slayer’?”
I laughed. “That’s really long but admittedly better than mine. Would it even fit in his phone?”
He chuckled. “Probably not.”
My phone beeped, and I glanced down to see that there was a small number in the upper corner of the app’s icon. “Oooo. Messages.”
Spike didn’t bother to pull up his own phone and peered at my tiny, glowing screen as I set it sideways between us. He touched the icon. The list of people who had accepted the invitation appeared, and the first conversation followed.
Liz, a Slayer in Lafayette, Louisiana, USA wrote: “Lol. Guess I don’t have a last name. And who’s William Pratt?”
Spike snorted at this, and I nudged my forehead against his.
Katie, a Slayer in Baton Rouge, Lousiana, USA: “Hey. I have the same non-last name. No idea who WP is.”
“Guess they haven’t read that thesis what’s-her-name wrote about you.” I offered Spike a smile.
“Guess not.” Spike smirked and arched an eyebrow at me. “But you haven’t either.”
“But I have!” I protested. I’d read it in one night after Spike and I were officially a couple. I was curious and wanted to know. Somehow, after reading about Angel’s exploits in high school, I was less weirded out. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. And I learned a lot about Spike, especially the parts about William and where he came from, which he’d conveniently left out that one time in Sunnydale when he told about how he killed the Slayers.
“Oh?” He grinned, but I caught a hint of worry in his eyes.
I kissed him gently. “It didn’t scare me away, did it?”
George Williams, Emily’s Watcher in New Orleans, Louisiana, USA: “Obviously, you haven’t been studying enough.”
Liz: “Study, schmudy. That’s what I have Kishan for.”
Kishan Patel, Liz’s Watcher in Lafayette, Lousiana, USA: “Trust me. Getting Liz to study or do research of any kind is like herding a group of stubborn cows.”
Liz: “Are you calling me a cow?”
Kishan: “I most definitely am not. I’m using a metaphor.”
Liz: “An insulting metaphor, especially in light of the prophecy that wasn’t about cows but was actually about pregnant Slayers.”
Kishan: “Cows are sacred in my religion, remember?”
Liz: “Oh yeah. Sorry, Kishan.”
Katie: “Still don’t know who William Pratt is. And where’s my Watcher?”
Emily a Slayer in New Orleans, Louisiana, USA: “Hey! I know who William Pratt is. *waves to Spike*”
Katie: “Ohhhhhhh!”
George: “Good girl! See. My Slayer studies.”
Emily: “Hey. I’ve always been an honor roll kinda gal.”
Faith Lehane, a Slayer, Cleveland, Ohio, USA: “Good morning, all you early risers. What’s up? Why the heck is my name all long and pretentious sounding?”
Xander Harris: “Speak for yourself. I’m just plain old Xander.”
Carrie Lewis, a Slayer in Norfolk, Virginia, USA: “Must be Mr. Giles’s way of keeping track of everyone in his phone.” Last I heard, Carrie and Xander were getting serious and fast, and Xander had even relocated to an apartment in Norfolk.
“Harris’s Slayer’s pointing out the obvious,” Spike murmured to me.
Robin Wood, a Slayer’s son, Cleveland, Ohio, USA: “Go to the head of the class, Carrie.”
“He thinks he’s still a principal,” I said with some sarcasm.
“Thought Nikki’s son never was a real principal?” Spike rubbed my cheek with his thumb. “Bit of sugar.”
“You know? I never did figure that part out.” I snagged his thumb in my mouth and sucked off the sweetness. Something dark shifted in his eyes as I let go, and I inclined my head toward the phone to nip what lingered there in the bud. For now. “Should we announce our presence?”
Spike shook his head. “Give us a minute.”
Katie: “Where’s my Watcher? Michael? You there?”
Kishan: “He’s in the shower.”
Liz: “Ah ha!”
Katie: “I knew it!”
Xander: “Knew what?”
Faith: “So, Kishan and Michael, huh? Watchers in love.”
There was a long pause during which Spike drank more coffee, and I ate another beignet. Both coffee and pastry were cold and now completely unappetizing. In fact, the beignet was already getting tough to chew. With a little sadness, I set it back on the plate.
Kishan: “!!! I know that Michael is in the shower because he texted me twenty minutes ago to say that he was getting in the shower. Get your minds out of the proverbial gutter. Not the actual gutter in case anyone was wondering if I was being literal and not metaphorical.”
Kathleen, a Slayer, Washington DC, USA: “Good morning! Anyone else have a late night? Getting up early for these meetings is painful. Couldn’t we at least wait until noon?”
Martin Tremblay, Natalie’s Watcher, Shediac, New Brunswick, Canada: “Hello. How does this thing work?”
Michael Walker, Katie’s Watcher, Baton Rouge, Louisiana, USA: “Any word on Natalie?”
Martin: “No. But we were able to locate her phone, and Willow helped me hack into her computer. I have information.”
Xander: “We should wait until everyone’s here.”
Faith: “We’re going to find her.”
Martin: “She’s been gone so long. I’m starting to have my doubts.”
“Should we check in?” I asked Spike.
“Why not?” Spike pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and lounged back in the stiff-backed wooden chair.
I settled back in my own chair, lifting my legs onto Spike’s lap. He rubbed my left ankle as he thumbed through his screens.
Buffy Summers: “Good morning. Spike and I are here.”
William Pratt: “Yep.”
Katie: “I wanna know how you went from being WP to Spike.”
Liz: “Me, too. Inquiring minds want to know.”
Xander: “*rolls eyes* What is it with ladies and bad boys?”
Liz: “Hey. We’re not wondering because of that. It’s obvious where his heart is. I’m intellectually curious is all.”
William Pratt: “Harris, lay off the ladies.”
I lifted my right foot and brought it down on Spike’s thigh so that he grunted in pain but was grinning. He caught my foot before I could do it again and pulled off my sneaker, massaging my sore muscles so that I sighed and relaxed.
Buffy Summers: “How William became Spike is a long story.”
I smiled again at Spike and said aloud, “But I’ll have you know that his heart is still William’s.”
His eyes shining, Spike snorted in faux annoyance. “Says you.”
Emily: “I’ll loan you the copy of the thesis that I have.”
Katie: “Thanks, Em.”
Faith: “Email me a copy?”
Emily: “Can do.”
Willow Rosenberg: “Willow checking in. Oz is working. But I promised to give him the deets later.”
Rupert Giles: “I believe that everyone is here except for the Slayer team in Chile who are dealing with a minor crisis and the group in Jakarta who is in a far different time zone than us. I shall be informing them both about the nature of this meeting shortly after we wrap up. We should get down to the business at hand. Before I do, I just want to say that I very much believe in the power and importance of research. As my Slayer and her friends can attest, research and learning are tantamount to success in the fight against the darkness. Without it, you may find yourself in a disastrous situation that could lead to your death or worse, so even if you believe that it’s your Watcher’s job to cull through the books and documents and nowadays, the internet, you should take it upon yourself to at least understand how to go about a thorough search.”
Willow: “Here here, Giles!”
I didn’t look at Spike but commented aloud, “He’s been annoyed with Katie and Liz since our meeting at Christmas.”
“No doubt,” Spike agreed.
Giles: “Now, on to the matter at hand. As you know, Angel visited Buffy and shared information that he discovered on a different sort of quest.”
“A quest to get you back, pet,” Spike grumbled.
I suddenly felt the desire to be closer to him. Abandoning my uncomfortable chair for an equally difficult chair next to Spike, I leaned against him and adjusted my long hair so that it fell over his shoulder. “A quest that didn’t work. Was never going to work. Is never going to work.” I ran my hand up and down his tense thigh until he melted under my touch.
He sighed softly. “I know.”
Giles: “He brought forth more than one source of information that seems to hold up under the scrutiny of our documents and prophesy experts here in England.” Giles and his small team of trusted Watchers had been researching and cross-referencing and double-checking the documents since Angel shared them. He even had Andrew and another Watcher travel to the library in Morocco to see if there was more corroborating information.
Xander: “And they concluded?”
Giles: “I’m getting to that.” I could almost hear him sighing. Xander and Giles were both anxious. “They concluded that Angel was telling the truth in as much as he understands it to be.”
Faith: “Vague much?”
Giles: “I wasn’t finished.”
Faith: “Oh. Sorry.”
Giles: “The gist is that the prophecy predicts that there are seven vampire witches, who are trying to harness the power of the Hellmouths. In order to do so, they have to perform a ritual at each of the known Hellmouths. The ritual involves bloodletting of an unusual sort. Just like the First Evil used blood to open the seal at the Sunnydale Hellmouth, blood is required as part of this ritual. The source of the blood must be from Slayers. Pre-Sunnydale, this ritual and prophecy were virtually impossible to conduct and fulfill, as it were. However, given that there are many Slayers scattered across the planet – ”
Faith: “So the ritual is possible. B and I are used to thwarting prophecy, so any sort of so-called prophecy amounts to a hill of beans.”
Kishan: “Proverbial beans.”
Willow: “Actually. Prophecies aren’t all malarkey.”
William: “Red’s right. Just because you’ve thwarted them doesn’t make them complete hogwash.”
Buffy: “Spike and Willow are right. I still died at the hands of the Master even though Xander gave me CPR. The prophecy came true.”
Willow: “I’ve put out feelers among the groups of witches that I know, and we are in the process of finding the clusters of vampire witches. At first, we had trouble, but there are several leads now. One is situated near Norfolk, which is close to us and the coven at Falls Church. There is also some talk that they are getting more forward, so they’ll be easier to find. And given Buffy’s experience with the HPV’s, there seems to be some truth to it.”
Giles: “Seven of these vampire witches must perform the ritual simultaneously with Slayers across the world.”
Carrie: “Oh, that’s lovely to hear.”
“I think that was sarcasm,” I said to Spike.
“You think?” Spike replied.
Giles: “There is, however, a catch, which is the reason that Angel was so adamant about speaking with Buffy.”
Buffy: “The ritual requires pregnant Slayers.”
Spike stiffened next to me at the reminder of the danger I was in, sitting up and looking around the empty café.
“No tinglies. Except from you,” I said.
“Doesn’t have to be vamps that come after you, love. Witches turned vampires are likely to be smart. Daytime attacks are a possibility.” Bumping me gently off him, he stood and turned his chair so that we were facing opposite directions.
Giles: “Buffy is correct. And if the ritual is performed, power is siphoned through the gateways to hell, which could either lead to some very potent foes or Armageddon.”
Carrie: “Even lovelier.”
Martin: “I have something to share on that front.”
Giles: “Go ahead, Martin.”
Martin: “Willow was gracious enough to help us hack into Natalie’s phone and computer. Her emails showed records of multiple appointments with her OB.”
Robin: “Natalie’s pregnant.”
Martin: “Yes.”
Giles: “All the more reason to amp up the search for her. Faith or Robin, I need you on it since you’re in Cleveland. Can you reasonably join Martin in Canada for a time?”
Faith: “You got it, G. I’ll stay put to guard this Hellmouth.”
Robin: “I’ll take a couple of the baby Slayers with me.”
Katie: “Baby Slayers? Should we be offended on behalf of our fellow Slayers, Liz?”
Liz: “Nah. Young and powerful. Better than old and crotchety.”
Katie: “Lol. You’re right. Nice reframe.”
I could envision Giles polishing his glasses, only he couldn’t do that because he was typing. But still. Glasses were being polished in his mind. Well, my mind was imagining his mind. . . . Whatever.
Giles: “Thank you, Robin and Faith. And Xander, you and Oz have discovered that there are more Slayers missing.”
Xander: “Yes.”
Giles: “Reach out to their Watchers and find out if any of those Slayers are pregnant.”
Xander: “On it.”
Willow: “Oz will help, too.”
George: “Better go through the whole call tree again. To find out if there are other pregnant Slayers.”
Xander: “Took the words out of my mouth. Or rather, fingers.”
Willow: “And Carrie and Kathleen, I’d love your help to locate the vamp-witches near us.”
Kathleen: “Happily. I’m assuming we need to take at least one alive to interrogate her.”
Giles: “That would be wise.”
Kathleen: “Perfect.”
Xander: “Kathleen is good at fight and capture.”
Carrie: “She is.”
Kathleen: “Aww, thanks, guys!”
Willow: “Buffy, I’m sending someone to increase the complexity and strength of your wards.”
Buffy: “Thanks, Wil.”
William: “Do you think we could get some portable wards, too? One for Dawn as well.”
Willow: “Definitely.”
Spike regarded me. “Until we get those, you and the Bit are on house arrest. Probably after, too.”
Between vampire witches and their prophecies and an unpredictable Illyria on the loose, it made sense. Didn’t mean that it didn’t annoy me. “Fine. Same applies to you.” I wasn’t about to lose him if someone used him to get to me. I hadn’t felt this way since the First Evil.
“Fine. We’ll have to be creative with work.”
I pointed at my belly. “We have an excuse.”
Giles: “Buffy, do be careful.”
Buffy: “We’re negotiating safety parameters now.”
Spike’s amusement was clear in his tone. “You sound like your other ex-honey.”
“Shut up,” I said, playfully shoving him.
He easily steadied himself, kissing my shoulder and running his hand over my belly so that tingles of a different sort soared through my body.
Katie: “We’re here to help with security.”
Liz: “Yes.”
Kishan: “And research.”
William: “We’ll take you up on it.”