A Small Boat on the Ocean

61. The morning I hung out with Crystal, Leah, and Willow

“What’s the baby’s name?”

I smiled at Leah who was watching me with wide eyes as she perched on the chair next to me. She was eating a cookie and having hot chocolate. I was going through the registry on my laptop, weeding out items, most of which Dawn and Spike had over- or inappropriately registered for. “The baby doesn’t have a name,” I told the little girl. “Not yet.”

“I keep thinking that you do and just don’t want to tell anyone,” Willow said across from me, a small smirk on her lips over the rim of her cup. She’d totally gotten Leah to ask me because I’d been less than forthcoming.

“Hey, Crystal!” I called across the coffee shop. Willow and I were spending the morning dead time with Crystal and Leah. “Did you already have names picked out for your kids at this point?”

Crystal poked her head around the doorframe to the back room. She looked a little winded from moving boxes of supplies around. “Do you have your feet up, missy?”

“What?” I nodded at my feet propped in the chair next to Willow. “Oh. Uh huh! But that’s not what I asked.” My left ankle had been swelling with much greater frequency as the heat in New Orleans increased and as the pregnancy progressed. My OB didn’t seem too worried. My blood pressure and labs were good.

She pulled her long dreads back into a loose ponytail. “What’d you ask?”

Leah bounced in her seat. “She asked how you picked my name.” That wasn’t exactly it but close enough.

Crystal softened. “As soon as I saw your sweet face, I knew you were my Leah.”

I sat up straighter and pointed my finger at her. “Ah ha! So, you didn’t have a name picked before she was born?”

Willow rolled her eyes but was still smiling, and Crystal laughed. Leah was watching her mother with expectation on her little face.

Crystal addressed her daughter again. “I didn’t have your name picked until I met you. You had to show me who you were first.”

“Oh!” Leah said in awe, her lips quirking up in a smile and her cheeks tinging pink as she ducked her head. I could tell she’d heard this story before and that what her mother said made her feel special.

“See!” I gave Willow a pointed look.

“Fine. I’ll leave you alone.” She finished her mocha and stood. “I need a refill anyway.”

Crystal accepted the empty mug and began making Willow a new coffee. “So, when and where are you getting married?” We’d already all oohed over Willow’s sparkly ring, and she’d let us all try it on, casting a little spell, so it briefly fit each one of us. I’d been happy to find that my jealous feelings had abated since my talk with Spike.

“Well.” Willow looked at me with expectation on her face. “Oz and I have been doing a lot of talking since he proposed, and we decided to get married here. In New Orleans!”

“What?!” I jumped up, the baby making the motion awkward. “Oh, my god!”

Willow stood and gave me a big hug. Then, she pulled back with a grin. “We knew you were about to have the baby, and well, we want to get married sooner rather than later. And you can’t travel with a newborn, so. . .”

I honestly hadn’t considered the inability to travel for Willow’s wedding. “Thank you.”

“I couldn’t get married without both of my best friends present.” She let go of me and gestured for me to sit back down. As I followed her instructions, she added, “And there’s more.”

I arranged my feet in the chair, and Leah leaned over and gave my arm a little hug. “What?”

“You and Xander have to be our witnesses. And Oz and I talked about something else.”

“You guys are all with the talking.”

“You know it!” Willow grinned and plopped back down in her chair, her hands grasping the edges of the wood in her joy. “We’re going to move here for at least the foreseeable future. Oz wants to play music in New Orleans since he’s never been part of the music scene here. He actually has a couple of connections, and you know my work can be done from home anywhere.”

My mouth dropped open in surprise. “You’re moving here? To New Orleans? Why? I thought you were loving Falls Church.”

She shrugged. “We do. But how often does your bestie have a baby? Falls Church is too far away to help, and I want all the baby snuggles. I mean, when you and Spike need a break and are ready to pull your hair out.”

“I want snuggles with the baby, too!” Leah announced, sticking her chin in the air. “I’m good with babies. Mommy said so. I help with my brother a lot.”

I laughed. “Snuggles all around, and I’m sure we’ll need a break every now and again. Oh, my god, Wil! I’m so happy that you’ll be here!”

“You don’t have your mom here, and I know she’d want to be with you if she could,” Willow added softly. “That’s what moms do or so I read in books.”

My eyes misted over, and I realized that I’d purposefully avoiding thinking about Mom. She’d have wanted to do all the grandma things with her grandchild, and I liked to think she’d have been amused to no end that Spike was the father. I made a mental note to talk with Spike about that later before a mix of emotions covered the thought up. “Yeah.” I caught the falling tear before it was too noticeable. “She would have loved it.”

“Where’s your mom?” Leah asked, her eyes round as saucers as she glanced from me to Willow and back again.

Uh oh. Leah’s goldfish had died last week, and she’d just stopped having nightmares about it. I didn’t want to add to her trauma by talking about my mom’s death.

Crystal swept up then, delivering a new mocha for Willow. Then, she gathered empty cups and plates, trying to deflect the direction of the conversation. I’d told her long ago that my mother had died because of complications related to a brain tumor. “Buffy’s mom can’t be with her. That’s all.” Her tone was firm, and Leah got quiet, her head dropping a little.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to me, taking my hand in her little one. “I wish your mom could be here with you. I know I’d miss Mommy if she couldn’t be with me.”

I rearranged our hands so that mine safely cradled hers. Then, I kissed her forehead. “It’s okay. I have all of you here with me.”

“And now Willow!” Leah said with renewed brightness.

“Right!” Willow echoed with cheer in her voice, her green eyes searching mine with concern.

I shook my head to let her know I was okay and changed the subject while toggling my asleep computer back to life. “So, Crystal, what are your baby must haves?”

Crystal deposited the dishes in the sink with a clink. “That’s easy. Swaddles, pacifiers, breastfeeding pillow, white noise machine, those bottles I told you about, and a partner who will take turns with you, so you can sleep.”

“Mommy called it Operation: Keep Baby Alive when Ryan was born,” Leah said, forgetting her questions about my mom.

Willow giggled. “Sounds like boot camp.”

“It is like boot camp. Baby boot camp,” Crystal confirmed as she flipped on the faucet. She peered over her shoulder to make sure I wasn’t panicking. I wasn’t – not yet. “But it gets easier. I promise. And you can always text me. You know that, right?”

“Don’t worry. I’m going to take you up on that!” I picked up my phone and waved it at her. “You better be ready. Middle of the night when the baby won’t stop crying.”

“It’s all worth it. I promise,” Crystal teased.

“It is!” Leah agreed, leaning her head on my upper arm. “Ryan stopped crying as much, and now, he plays with me. Except. . .”

I gave her a curious look. “Except?”

She put her hand on one side of her mouth and whispered, “Sometimes he trims my horse’s mane and tail, and he tears my books.”

“Ohhh. That must be upsetting.” I knew how important her toy horses still were to her.

“Yeah. He doesn’t mean to though.” She took a bite of her cookie. “And I still love him anyway.”

I smiled at Leah. “That’s good. Forgiveness is important for you and him.” I glanced at the registry. “So, we don’t need fifteen teethers?”

Crystal set the dishes on the front counter to dry them. “Um, no. And you won’t need those for a while anyway.”

“Got it.” I started deleting most of them, but I kept the waffle-shaped one. That one amused me to no end.

For the next half an hour, I went through the entire registry, and Crystal, Willow, and even little Leah gave me input on what to keep and what to delete. Leah made me save the bib with the cute grey horse on it. Soon, the baby registry was streamlined with needs, must-haves, and a few fun extras. I was sure that Dawn would go back through and add some of her picks back; I just had to talk to her about some of them. Leah left us to go home with her dad, Crystal returned to straightening up the inventory in the back, which left me and Willow to catch up.

“So,” Willow clapped her hands and drew her own laptop out of her messenger bag, “theme. The baby shower needs a theme.”

“What? A theme? Really?” I hadn’t even really thought about baby shower stuff.

Willow pushed some buttons, obviously pulling up a program to take notes. “That and I need to know if you want there to be games.” Her mouth was set. She was serious as only she could be.

I considered the possibilities, and all I could think of were baby bottles, rattles, onesies, and excessively sweet cake. Stereotypical movie baby shower material. “Oh, god. Nothing too cutesy.”

Willow frowned. “Define ‘cutesy.’”

I pushed my mouth sideways as I thought. “Not all blue? With the snips and snails and puppy dog tails.”

“Do huh?” said as she typed.

I fingered the edge of my laptop keyboard. “That’s the only poem I know about boys. Spike recited it the other night when he was talking to my belly. I don’t even know where it comes from.”

Willow snickered. “Spike is talking to your belly?”

I smiled at the image of him speaking with such love and earnestness to our son. “Yeah. It’s really sweet actually. He wants the baby to know his voice. He started doing it every night before we go to sleep. And the baby started responding to him. He kicks or elbows me. It’s all very comfy.”

“As in not?” Willow teased.

I sighed. “Right? But Spike loves it. He gets so excited, and I’m the one who encouraged him to do it. I can’t tell him that every night – ”

“Is a bit excessive?”  

“Exactly.”

“Well, I guess it won’t be for much longer. I couldn’t tell Oz ‘no’ either.” Then, Willow cleared her throat. “The shower? We need to focus.”

“You sound like Anya with the wedding planning. Cracking the whip. Poor Xander.” I could still hear them arguing about seating arrangements.

Now Willow was tearful. “I miss Anya.”

“Me, too.” I reached over with my foot and nudged her thigh in camaraderie.

Willow shook off the emotion and her resolve-face showed its head. “Shower. Now.”

I rolled my eyes and repositioned myself to sit up straighter. Maybe it would help my brain wake up and think of shower-y things. “Fine.” I chewed my lower lip for a moment. “Can we do a co-ed shower? I want the guys all there.”

“Yay! You decided something.” Willow typed in her document.

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

“I’m not. So, do you have a theme for the nursery?” She said it so casually that my brain almost skipped over it.

Then, it didn’t. “What nursery? Have you seen our house?”

“Oh yeah.” The way she avoided eye contact with me told me that she knew something I didn’t.

I leaned forward. “What?”

“How do you feel about books instead of cards?” she asked, trying to sound innocent as she focused on her computer screen.

“Huh?”

Willow hurried to explain, “Guests brings books in lieu of cards that you won’t ever look at again. And baby has a built-in library post-shower.”

“I like that.” Spike would like that. Still. I narrowed my eyes at my friend. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing. Buffy.” Willow gestured at the computer as she probably typed something about books instead of cards. “We’re all with the planning.”

I glared, my best I’m-a-pregnant-lady-so-you-better-tell-me glare. “You know something related to the nursery.”

Willow sighed. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“What is?”

Willow squirmed. “Spike – he swore Oz and me to secrecy.”

A customer entered the coffee shop, and I lowered my voice but kept the demand simple, so she knew I meant business. “Spill. Now.”

Her eyes shifted to the customer and Crystal, who’d emerged to take the coffee order. With some reluctance, Willow admitted, “He’s been looking for bigger houses for the three of you. He wanted you to have a nursery for the baby.”

“He what?” Oops. That was a little too loud. Crystal widened her eyes at me, and I sat back in my chair. I couldn’t believe it. We’d just gotten back, and Spike was already thinking that many steps ahead?

Willow held up both hands, palms in my direction. “Before you get all mad and huffy at him. He’s looking at more than one. He wanted to let you pick.”

Worry twisted in my stomach. “We can’t afford a house.”

Willow smiled. “Actually. You can now.”

“What do you mean? You didn’t – ?” Did Willow also give us money for a down payment on a house?

Willow shook her head. “Nope. Not me. I’m not rolling in that much dough. Guess again.”

The only other person I knew with money was. . . “Giles.”

“You figured it out. I didn’t tell you. He wanted it to be a gift for you, the baby. . . and Spike.”

“Really?” For me? Tears welled up in my eyes.

Willow gushed on, “He has this big estate in England, Buffy, with fields and horses. He said he wanted you to have a place of your own with a yard for your son to run around in and enough space inside, so you aren’t on top of each other all the time. More than one bathroom.”

I’d never in my life had more than one bathroom. “Oh, my god. Another bathroom!” I thought for a minute. “Wait a minute. So, Giles and Spike have been planning this? Together?” I couldn’t fathom this. Not in a million years. Like, were they on the phone together? Texting? When were these conversations happening?

“Uh huh.”

“Whoa.”

“Shocking, right?” Willow grinned like the Cheshire cat.

“Mind completely blown.” Love swelled in my heart for Spike and Giles.

“Plus, he said that when he comes to visit, he’d like to stay in a ‘proper’ guest room.”

“Aww. Giles wants to stay with us?” He hadn’t mentioned that before. When he was in town, he always stayed with George.

“Sounds like it to me. He’s taking his Pop Pop job very seriously.”

I laughed. “He is.” Then, I sobered, inspiration striking. “I have an idea.”

“An idea for what?” Willow asked, her eyes full of mirth.

“The shower. I’d like it to be stars and the moon.” That was perfect.

Willow started typing. “Why stars and the moon?”

“Because that’s where I fell in love with his Daddy. At night, under the moon and stars.”

Willow pressed her lips together half in amusement and half with the serious. “I don’t remember it being quite that romantic.”

I ran a hand gently over the curve of the baby bump. “He doesn’t need to know that. All that matters is that it ended up that way.”

62. The evening of breaking and entering

In typical Spike fashion (or was it Spike-and-Buffy fashion?), we broke into the empty houses he’d been investigating for us. He wanted to show them to me his own way and without the real estate agent breathing down our necks. He made sure he didn’t damage any of the houses in case we picked that one, and the nighttime exploration was kind of exciting. Buffy-of-old would have totally balked at doing it this way, but I wasn’t Buffy-of-old anymore. I’d learned to pick my battles, and honestly, sometimes doing things Spike’s way was more fun than doing them mine.

At the second house, we almost got caught by a teenaged boy walking his dog through the neighborhood for a middle-of-the-night bathroom break. Luckily, Spike heard him coming. Though I tripped over the garden hose, which was draped across the lawn like a hidden booby trap for pregnant women, he managed to somehow cover my mouth and help me regain my balance. Then, he snuck us into the backyard without the boy or dog spotting us and without me breaking any body parts or the baby. Spike had motioned me to silence until he could no longer hear the pair. Once he gave the all-clear signal, which was a shrug and grin, the giggle lodged in my throat made its way out of my mouth. At that point, Spike growled and pushed the back door open, so I could laugh as loud as I wanted in the echoing, empty house. (He may have even laughed a little with me before he nuzzled my neck, pushed me up against the wall, and dotted a string of kisses over my jaw before kissing me thoroughly on the mouth.)

Now, Spike and I were standing in the middle of a living room in the third house, having explored all the other empty rooms. In the dim moonlight, he was leaning against the window pane and watching my face with expectation.

“This is the one, isn’t it?” I smiled at him. The house was a brick one-story with a large master bedroom and bath, large open-concept living room and kitchen, two other bedrooms, and a spacious man-cave of sorts, which unlike the other rooms had no windows. The best part was that there were two-and-a-half bathrooms! Two-and-a-half! The garden tub in the master bath that could easily fit Spike and I was already tempting me. If only the water was turned on.

“Was thinking you’d like this one best. So, I saved it for last.” He sounded pleased with himself.

“Are you sure there won’t be too much light? There are a lot of windows.” I lifted my hands up to indicate all the dangerous portals for sunlight around us.

“But the French blinds are nice and thick. They’ll shutter down so that the light’ll be indirect.” To demonstrate, he shut half of the window behind him, darkening the room that much more.

I crossed my arms and twisted my lips in contemplation. “What if the baby opens one of the blinds during the day on accident?”

He ran his fingers over the wood. “I’m sure I can finagle something, so the blinds don’t fly open. Though I don’t believe this sprog of ours is going to be opening windows for a while.”

I snagged his hand and pulled him into a sideways hug, which was all we could manage at this stage. “I don’t want you going poof.”

“There are trees all around in case you didn’t notice. That’ll help prevent the direct sunlight, too.”

“Unless there’s a hurricane. Or a light summer breeze. Remember that you’re flammable?”

Spike snorted. “If there’s a hurricane barreling down on the Big Easy, we’ll be long gone.” We’d discussed evacuating in Xander’s direction if needed.

I paced away from him, still studying the details of the living room. “Did this house flood?”

“In Katrina? No.”

“Good.” My wanderings led me to a spot near the open space for hanging our TV, and I stopped there, spreading my arms. “This would be the perfect place for my recliner.”

He crossed his arms. “Your recliner? I don’t think so. If I remember right, we picked it out for me, and it’s going in the. . . what’d you call that windowless room?”

“The man-cave?” I asked with all the innocence.

“Sodding stupid name. But yes, in there!”

“But it’s one of the only places I can get comfortable,” I protested with a pout in my voice and refraining from suggesting that we rechristen the man-cave as the “vampire-cave.” “And it’ll be perfect for nursing the baby.”

“We’ll make my room. . . cozy. Toys for the little one, a sofa or recliner for you. You’ll both want to be in there with me.” He sounded so hopeful that I crossed the room and kissed his cheek.

“We’ll want to be wherever you are. I promise you that.” I pulled his arm free and slid my hand into his. “So, how long have you and Giles been planning this? And color my mind blown about that by the way.”

He squeezed my hand. “Mixing metaphors, pet.”

I laughed. “I know.”

“To answer your question: since Christmastime.”

“Really?”

“I don’t think you noticed. Rupert and I took our whisky on the back porch.” He was referring to the present from Giles.

“Then?” I’d been busy visiting with Willow and Xander, and I’d completely overlooked Spike and Giles’s sneaky getaway because I’d been pumping Xander for information on his new girl, who’d been chatting with Oz about his music.

Spike kissed the back of my hand. “Yeah. He told me that he regretted all the times you struggled with finances in the past. While he can’t afford to pay for all the upkeep of a house, he wants to purchase one outright and buy out the lease where we live now. All we’ll have to do is pay the taxes and bills, which we’ll be able to do with what we make now. If we buy this house. The other two are a bit more expensive. All three are ready for inspection and eager to close soon, so the timing is right for us to move before our son is born.”

“We don’t need a swimming pool.” The first house had a pool in the backyard. Then, the magnitude of what Spike just said hit me. “Oh, my god! Is this real?” I maneuvered and pressed our hands on my belly, and the baby shifted. “Is this our life?”

Spike stroked my cheek with the back of his free fingers, and I leaned into his comforting touch. “I sometimes can’t believe it either.”

Taking his hand again, I led him back toward the master bedroom which was connected to the dark man cave. Turning on the flashlight on my phone, we stood in the middle of the room. “Tell me where everything would be.”

He pointed at space with his free hand and explained in his deep rumble. I listened to the cadence of his words and marveled that we got to do this together. . . that we got to be parents and a family. Love made my heart beat strong and hard.

When he finished, he asked, “So?”

“So, what?”

“What do you think?” He offered me a shy smile. “I want you to have a say, too.”

“I love all your ideas.” And I did. “It’s not all going to be idyllic though.”

His eyebrows drew together ever so slightly – my romantic vampire. “How so, pet?”

“The baby’s going to be up. All night sometimes. He’ll cry, and sometimes we won’t know why he’s crying. We’re going to be so tired we can’t see straight. We might fight. I might not shower for a few days. I might threaten to stake you. . . and mean it.” I was painting the worst picture I could imagine at this point. I tried to emphasize the ominous with my next words. “Crystal calls the first part Operation: Keep Baby Alive.”

To my annoyance, Spike laughed, loud and a little too long for my taste.

“What? It’s not funny,” I grumped.

“People have been doing this for thousands of years, love. I think we’ll be able to manage without it being so dire. Plus, I’ve handled more than a few threats of dusting from you. I think I can handle a few more.” He kissed the tip of my nose, and darn him, I melted a little. “We’ll be fine. Even if you don’t shower, and our boy throws up on my recliner or cries incessantly. And you’re looking at a creature of the night here. Up all night is my area of expertise.”

“Hmph. You don’t stay up all night now. I seem to remember that you’ve been sleeping with me through the night for a while now.”

“So, my sleep routine is topsy-turvy. Just means I’ll be ready for our son.”

He was not getting my anxiety. “I’m a little scared.”

“Of what, love?” He was so patient with me.

I shrugged. “Of screwing up. Of not being a good enough mother.”

His response was immediate. “That is the key right there.”

“What is?” I made my confused face at him.

“You said, ‘Good enough.’”

“So?”

“That’s all you need to be.”

“Explain-y. Please.” I moved from one foot to the next, tired of standing. I needed to prop my feet up. My ankles were going to be ginormous.

“All parents bugger things up. We’re going to be sodding messes sometimes. We’re going to annoy the bleeding hell out of the tike. And you know what?”

“He’s going to know a whole dictionary full of curse words before he’s two?”

“Ha bloody ha, pet.”

“You’re saying that he’s going to be annoyed with us, but he’s still going to love us.”

“He’s going to be right pissed at us. All part of growing up.”

I laughed, and then, tears blurred my vision. “I miss my mom.” As soon as I said the words, my heart sank. Saying them aloud to Willow was one thing; it was another thing to say them aloud with Spike. I wasn’t sure why.

He slipped his arm around my shoulders and held me. He didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Your mum would have loved all of this.”

Fat warm tears slid over my cheeks, and I reached a hand up to wipe them away. “She would have. I haven’t really thought a lot about her all this time, and now that the baby’s almost here. I miss her. I really wish she were here. She’s supposed to be here.” More tears came. “I wish she could be a part of this.”

“It’s sodding unfair.” He kissed the top of my head. “Because she’s gone, you’ll miss her at all the milestones. Having a baby is a big one. Joyce would’ve been so happy for you, pet.”

“She would have, huh? She would like that the baby’s yours, I think.”

“I dunno about that. We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms with me kidnapping her daughter and chaining her up.”

“True. But I think she’d approve now. Wanna know why?” I glanced up at him, but the shadows made it hard for me to read his face.

“Why’s that?” I could hear the hint of anxiety. He wasn’t happy the way he’d left things with my mom.

I ducked out from under his arm and faced him, holding the little light up between us. “Because you make me so incredibly happy, and you’re going to be the best. . . good enough father.” Then, I bounced the subject in a different direction before I forgot what I wanted to ask. “Do you miss your mom?”

He turned his head before I could read the emotion in his eyes. “I do.” Spike never talked about his mom; all I knew was that she’d been loving and supportive but also ill at the end of her life.

I never pushed him for more because I could tell it was a sensitive topic, but now, I couldn’t help myself. Maybe the dim lighting made it easier. And the pre-parent jitters couldn’t all be me, right? “You never say much about her. Or your dad.”

“It was a long time ago, pet. I don’t remember much.” I could tell by the way he said it that he was only partially telling the truth.

So, I started with my assumptions. “Your dad wasn’t around much, right? Was he like my dad?”

He was silent for such a long time that I wasn’t sure he was going to respond, and then, he took me by the hand and led me to the wall closest to the door of the master bedroom so there was a little more light from the moon. He slid down to a seating position with his knees angled up before helping me down next to him. I turned off my phone flashlight and waited, one hand open on his thigh. I was too afraid that if I joked about how I wasn’t sure I could get off the floor, we’d get distracted by another topic.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft. “What I do remember about my father was how much he loved my mother. He was very kind to her and to me. He worked hard at his job. I don’t rightly remember exactly what he did for a living though I could probably do some digging and find out. All I know is that we always had plenty of everything we needed and that he was always home for dinner in the evenings. He taught me that the simple things were important. Like spending time together, and for most of my early childhood, we were happy.”

“What happened to him?” I asked, sweeping my thumb back and forth in one spot on his leg, the fabric of his jeans rough on my skin.

“He died quite suddenly when I was seven or eight. Something happened in town. An accident. My mum never told me all the details and never much talked about him after that though I knew it saddened her. She tended to protect me from the harsher things in life. It was just the two of us from then on.”

“I’m so sorry about your dad.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, pet. It was a long time ago.”

“But still, little you must have been so confused and heartbroken, especially not really knowing or understanding what happened.” I pictured a sandy-haired, blue-eyed boy with tears in his eyes, all alone with his enormous feelings at the loss of his father. My heart ached for that little boy; my heart ached for the man beside me now.

“My mum was a strong lady before she got sick, pet. She made sure I was taken care of. My father left us some money, and when that ran out and her health started failing, her family stepped in with finances. I never wanted for anything. I had a good education and food on the table, but more than that, I had love in my home. It’s more than a lot of people had.”

“She sounds kind of like my mom.” Huh. I never knew about that parallel with our mothers.

“Hadn’t thought about it that way. Makes sense. I always liked Joyce. She was nurturing, kind to me when she had no reason to be.”

I directed him away from the topic of my mom because I wanted to hear more about his childhood. “It must have been hard to lose your dad and then later your mom.”

His deep inhalation of air had the snag of emotion tinging it. “Yeah.” He was quiet again, but he pulled my hand into his, lacing his fingers with mine. I could tell he was about to tell me something else. “I turned my mum after Dru turned me. Made her into a sodding vampire.”

My heart beat harder in surprise. I tried to force it to slow down by sheer force of will. Failing that, I kept my voice gentle. “You did?”

“Stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Was trying to cure her sickness. Make her strong again. Give her the gift of immortality.” He sounded angry and regretful at the same time.

My mind was working double time, trying to put the pieces together. I spoke before I realized what I’d figured out. “Let me guess. It didn’t work out the way you hoped.”

“Let’s just say that she was not the woman I knew anymore. She came back physically healthy but somehow. . . wrong.” He shuddered almost imperceptibly. “We parted company not long after that.”

“What happened to her?” I felt like I was holding my breath.

His volume was so low that I almost didn’t hear him whisper, “I dusted her.”

And I thought my heart ached for him before. “Oh god, Spike. That must’ve been awful.” I gathered his arm close and leaned my head on his shoulder.

“It’s why I was so angry when your pals brought you back. There’s so much risk involved in a resurrection. I couldn’t have borne having to dispose of what was brought back. Not again. Not with someone else I loved.” He laid his head on mine. “But I’m very glad that you’re here now.”

“Me, too. I love you. I love that you loved your mom so much that you went above and beyond to help her.” It was the way he was with everyone he loved. That made me love him more.

“Love you, too, pet.” 

“So, question for you.” Spike waited, so I asked, “If bringing back your mom was so awful, why did you make minions? And why did you help Dawn try to bring Mom back? I guess that’s two questions.”

There was no hesitation. “I didn’t bloody well relish making the minions. Dru and I didn’t turn many of them ourselves; we recruited them as needed and disposed of them when we were done. It’s not like I went around turning people left and right, excepting that time under the control of the First. And regarding the Nibblet? I helped because she needed to work through that part of her grief, and in all honesty, I didn’t think the spell would work unless someone like Willow was involved in the casting, or I wouldn’t have helped her.”

Oh. Well, that put those pieces of the puzzle together. “So, what does all this mean about us? How we’ll be as parents?”

“We’ve had some bloody good role models.” He paused only a second. “And some not so great ones. I’m betting that means we’ll know what we want to do and what we don’t want to do with our son.”

“Speaking of role models. Do you think we should get out of the house we don’t technically own yet? The house that we broke into tonight? Plus, I’m really hot and could use a giant glass of ice water. Maybe poured over my head.”

He snorted and pulled himself off the ground. “Got to have a bit of fun, eh? Teach him early.”

I gazed up at him in the darkness from my floor view and rolled my eyes. “Noted. Baby’s first breaking and entering. Check.” Then, I accepted his offered hand up. “Seriously though. We should do this kind of thing less even if we don’t have nefarious intentions.”

“This is on par with the kitten poker, eh?”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay then. I’ll wait at least until he’s of age.”

I whacked him good-naturedly on the arm.

“Hey,” he protested, amusement in his voice. “Let’s go cool you off. Play your cards right, and there might even be a foot rub in it for you.”

I smiled. “Okay.”

63. The evening of the newborn care class

“No epidural for you,” Spike whispered, poking me in the ribs with his elbow.

We were sitting in a half-rectangle of tables with all the other parents-to-be. Earlier, we’d introduced ourselves and announced how far along we were, if we were having a boy or girl or twins, and when we were due. This had been awkward because many of the parents had given Spike side eye at his bleached hair and black leather. He hadn’t exactly donned a welcoming facial expression in response to their wariness despite our talk about how he had to play nice to learn about baby care.

We had been listening to the ins and outs of labor, which honestly was a bit boring with all the talk of minutes between contractions and centimeters dilated. Now, our instructor was going over the gory details of the epidural’s potential negative impact on child and mother, which of course, made my vampire very anxious.

I frowned at him and elbowed him back so that he grunted. “Says you. And ow.”

“But look at this list of side effects!” He thrust the list up at me as if I couldn’t read my own copy right in front of me. “Longer labor, vaginal tears, fever, compromised fetal heart rate, difficulty breastfeeding, nerve damage, spinal headache – ”

“Mr. Pratt? Everything okay?” The middle-aged teacher glared at Spike as she removed her bifocals with one hand and adjusted her floral top with the other. She looked like a disgruntled librarian but in a different and grumpier league than Giles.

All the other parents stared at him, which I knew didn’t bother him, but then, I emitted a small huff.

Admonished, he slouched and tried to appear reasonably embarrassed, which was not an easy thing for him. “All good.” I tried hard not to laugh at the century-old vampire being sort of put in his place by the teacher.  

Giving him a run for his money with her eyebrow arch, she asked, “Do you have questions about the other forms of pain management for mothers?”

“Er, no.”

She re-donned her glasses and firmly straightened the papers in front of her. “All right then. Let’s take a break. How about we come back in ten minutes, and we’ll change gears to newborn care.”

Chairs scraped over scuffed linoleum and pregnant ladies waddled back toward the snack table or out the door to the bathroom in the hallway. Their husbands wandered around looking a little lost or staring at the posters of labor positions on the walls of the hospital classroom. The nurse who was teaching the class started pulling fake babies out of big plastic tubs.

Setting my jaw, I turned to Spike and crossed my arms on top of my baby bump. The baby kicked me in the ribs, which made me groan before I said with less firmness than I intended, “I want an epidural.”

Spike studied me. “Fine.” The worry was still in his eyes though, and I hated that.

Shifting to try to catch my breath, I took his hand in both of mine. “It seems like a lot of things can happen during labor.”

Spike glanced over at the papers in front of him. “There are a lot of bloody variables.” He peeked at me. “Truth be told, I’ve been avoiding that part of the book.”

Fiddling with his thumb, I asked, “Could we maybe play it by ear? Go with the flow? See what happens first? Let the doctor tell us what and when?”

“Sure, pet. Just scares me is all. I don’t want to lose you. Same as the surgery for your eggs.”

“You’re looking at a Slayer. I got this. . . we’ve got this.” I forced his blue eyes to meet mine.

“We do.” Then, he hedged, “Slayers can handle a lot of pain, so – ”

“Still on board the epidural train.” 

He grinned at me. “Playing it by ear seems wise.”

“For our physical health. Yours and mine.” The corner of my lips quirked up. “You’ll walk me through all these exercises first,” I said, shuffling through the pages until I found the list of labor tips, positions, and techniques.

He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. “Of course. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Good.” My smile broadened. “Now, this momma needs to use the bathroom. Again.”

“Need anything from the vending machine?” He stood with me and then gestured at my left foot. “Looks like you need to prop up your feet again.”

I glanced down. Damn. Swollen already? “Looks like.”

“I’ll get you some water and a chair.”

“Thank you.”

With reverence, the instructor placed a rubber baby down in front of us along with a disposable diaper and a thin blanket. The faux baby’s eyes were the kind that opened and closed and were somehow stuck open and staring creepily up at the ceiling. It reminded me a bit of Sid, the puppet. She smiled at me and gave Spike a stern once-over, no doubt judging his hair and all-black ensemble.

I widened my eyes at Spike as she moved on, and he heaved an irritated sigh. “Dunce cap for me, pet. Thank god there’s only one class.”

I giggled as he headed for the snack table. Then, I hurried to the bathroom. After my bladder was relieved, I followed the other couples who were meandering back to class.

I discovered that Spike had procured a pillow for my back, a chair for my feet which was arranged on the other side of the table, and a large, cold bottle of water from the vending machine instead of the mini ones from the provided stash. Running my fingers over his shoulders, I kissed his cheek and settled down. “You’re the best.”

He folded the pillow in half as I leaned forward, tucking it at my sore lower back. Since the instructor was taking her own bathroom break, I decided to broach something else that had been on my mind. “We should talk about names because seriously? Baby is due in six weeks or so. Movers are coming this weekend.”

With Giles on the task, the house closing had been quick. Lucky for us, we had lots of helpers, aka Slayers, to carry and move the heavy stuff. No expensive movers were needed. Willow, Carrie, Dawn, and Crystal planned the shower for the next weekend at the new house. Everything was moving super-fast, and it freaked me out a little. I was worried that I’d forget something that had to be done before the birth.

Spike had been battling it out every night with the names, and I swear that every name I thought of, he nixed. And vice versa.

“Yeah. We should. The tyke needs a name. I’ve been thinking a lot about it.” He bit his lower lip, and I was momentarily distracted by the cute indention his tooth made.

“We both have.”

Spike fidgeted with the corner of the handout on breastfeeding, different colors of poop, and the importance of not using a pacifier. Avoiding my gaze, he waggled the flexible paper until he finally bent the corner. He was more nervous than I’d seen him when we discussed names. “And I know I’ve been a right pain about it.”

“Um, yeah. But so have I.”

He took a deep breath and looked me uncertainly in the eye. “How do you feel about the name Asher?” Before I could say anything in response, he said in a rush, “I like what it means: ‘happy.’ You make me so happy, pet. I keep coming back to that. And it sounds. . . I dunno, like a bit of tosh, but I like that we were both ash at some point and yet, here we are about to have a baby together.”

My eyes filled with tears, and I retrieved his wayward, anxious hand. “We’re like phoenixes.”

“It’s a bloody miracle that we’re even here.”

“And I love the name.” I blinked rapidly to no avail. The tears escaped the defenses of my lower lashes, and I smiled. I’m sure I looked ridiculous, but I didn’t care.

“You sure?” Spike sounded uncertain.

“Surer than sure,” I assured him. A thought came to me, and I knew then that I wanted the answer to be “yes” to my question. “Can his middle name be William? He can be a happy ‘resolute protector’ like his Daddy.”

The tears shone in his eyes, and he squeezed my hand. “Asher William?”

I nodded. “Uh huh.”

“It has a nice ring to it.” He cocked his head. “Are you sure you’d want William in there?”

“Of course. I love your given name.” And I did.

“Okay then.” He leaned over and kissed my belly. “He has a name.”

I laughed, a watery, emotion-drenched giggle. “Can you believe we just named our kid at a birthing class under all these fluorescent lights?”

He chuckled. “Mood lighting not up to your standards?”

“Um, no. Not exactly.”

Spike tilted his head at the other couples, who somehow had no idea that an emotional, very important discussion had just happened. “No one even noticed.”

It was true; they were all either staring at their phones or eating snacks. One mother-to-be was even napping.

“You’d be surprised how many people do that,” the nurse-instructor said with greater kindness than I’d witnessed so far. She paused behind us, wiping her damp hands on a paper towel from the bathroom. “It’s a. . . nice name.” Then, she hustled to the front of the classroom, tossing the napkin in the garbage and bringing her reading glasses from her chest to her nose. “Now, we’re going to all practice diapering your babies,” she proclaimed to the group.

I glanced at Spike, who was back to seething in annoyance. “Ignore her. It’s more than nice. Asher William is a perfect name.” Trying to distract him, I passed him our naked fake baby, dangling the creepy plastic thing from the toe while wiping my cheeks with my free hand. “You go first.”

Spike raised both eyebrows. “I’m thinking that’s not how you hold the baby.”

“We will cover newborn holds after diapering and swaddling. Please focus on diapering your baby,” the instructor said pointedly.

Spike grumbled under his breath and plunked the baby hard on the table. Then, he unfurled the tiny newborn diaper, lifted the baby’s bum, and delicately slid the diaper underneath.

Trying hard not to laugh, my eyes flicked back and forth between my vampire and the nurse, who was glaring at him in disapproval.

Spike shimmied the diaper up through the narrow opening between the baby’s legs. “Sodding legs are unbendable.” Then, he attempted to attach the diaper. He growled, “What the bloody. . . how am I supposed to attach it?” He gestured at the mess in front of him. “We got a defective nappy,” he said a little too loudly.

I reached over with some hesitance and noted, “The, um, diaper’s on upside down.”

Spike clenched his jaw, started to rip the diaper away from the plastic baby, and then, smirked.

Uh oh.

He found the Velcro on the front side, peeled it away, and wrapped the front around the back of the baby. “There,” he said in satisfaction and sat back with his arms crossed and legs spread, his body language daring the nurse to say something about his diaper being on backward.

Studiously ignoring all the other couples, who were probably staring at us, I patted his knee. “Good job.”

The nurse announced, “Once one of you is done putting the diaper on the baby, the other partner should take a turn. Make sure that in real life, you put the diaper on properly, or you will have a mess on your hands. One tip is to make sure the edges of the diaper fan out. This will prevent leaks.”

Spike unceremoniously stripped the diaper and shoved the little baby in front of me. “Your turn, pet. Hopefully, our son will be more flexible than this chap.”

“This creepy chap.” I sighed, focused on the baby’s navel so I didn’t have to see the frozen eyes, and quickly diapered the baby.

“Now, for the swaddle,” the instructor said with renewed, forced-sounding encouragement.

“I’ll do this one first,” I offered, snagging the blanket. “How hard could it be?” Biting my lip in concentration, I watched as the nurse folded the blanket into some sort of fashion that looked like advanced origami.

“Now, you try.” She listed the instructions again, and I didn’t follow any of it. She might as well have spoken to me in a language I didn’t understand.

I gawked at the blanket, feeling bewildered.

 “You know, pet, you have to actually start folding.” Spike sounded very amused, and I was tempted to kick him.

“I know. I’m just thinking about where. . .”

“Just take the plunge,” he urged.

 “There are a lot of steps.” I pushed my lips to one side. Then, I did what Spike suggested, folding one side and then the other in small triangles or was it supposed to be a rectangular flap? Argh. I kept folding and wrapping, and somehow the baby ended up wrapped up in the sloppiest swaddle known to man. It looked way worse than Spike’s Christmas present wrapping.

“Looking good, love. The little nipper is now snug as a bug.”

“As long as he doesn’t move at all,” I said with dejection.

The nurse was inspecting each swaddle. All the other couples got it right, but when she lifted up our faux baby, the covering fell right off. Oops. The instructor didn’t say a word but just shook her head. My cheeks flushed as she moved on. We were so going to suck at this newborn parenting thing.

Spike whispered, “Don’t worry, love. We’ll use the swaddles Crystal suggested. The ones with Velcro.”  

“As long as we don’t put them on backward.”

64. The night of the baby shower

I slid the burgundy-colored dress over my head and shimmied it down over my wider hips and swell of my bump. I’d tended toward loose fitting, flowy tops and dresses throughout the pregnancy. This particular dress hugged every curve. Biting my lip, I surveyed myself in the mirror from the front, side, and back. My body really wasn’t my own anymore. I was simultaneously proud and a little disconcerted.

“You look beautiful,” Spike said from where he was now lounging against the doorframe of our new bathroom. He looked delectable in his own wine-colored dress shirt, his blue eyes shining and bright. Too bad I felt huge and constipated and uncomfortable.

Still, I smiled at him. “Thank you.” I touched my hips self-consciously. “Are you sure I should wear this? It’s kinda revealing.”

He approached me then, hands roving over every bump that I felt anxious about. “I want everyone to see how beautiful you are carrying our son. Don’t know why you’re worried, pet. You’re glowing.”

“Um, I think that’s sweat.” I was so hot. Why did the New Orleans summer have to be so hot and humid?

“Whatever it is, you look wonderful.” He kissed my forehead and then my lips.

I gazed up at him. “I’m also nervous.”

“Thought that was already a given.” He shifted, and I saw that he wasn’t exactly completely relaxed either. Somehow, that was comforting. “About what?”

“All the people coming. Here.” The baby shower was set up in our new house, the living room decorated, a snack bar set up, and games planned. All the people in our life who meant anything to us were going to be in one place.

He stroked my hair, hair which hadn’t really fallen out all pregnancy. Spike had brushed it more than once and marveled at this miracle. I didn’t need him to brush it, but he liked to, and I loved the feeling of his fingertips grazing over the back of my neck. “To celebrate you and the nugget, pet.”

“And you.”

“Let’s be honest. This is all about you and our son.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“You’re sweet.” I leaned forward for another kiss, which he gladly supplied.

Then, he took my hand, and we headed toward the living room where Dawn, Willow, Crystal, and Carrie were putting the finishing touches on the decorations. In the kitchen, Crystal and Leah were setting up the plates and plastic utensils while Leah’s proud grey horse looked on from his perch on the kitchen island next to the moon-shaped cake. She gave me a little wave as we passed by. Spike tousled her hair, and she grinned up at him.

In the living room, silver and gold stars the size of my palm hung from the ceiling on glittery streamers, and the fan globe was covered in a moon-shaped light fixture so that it looked like it was reflecting light from the sun. There was a station on one of Crystal’s card tables for writing messages for the baby on slips of paper edged with designs from space. Silver and gold markers were stuffed into a black cup covered in moon and star stickers, and a pile of plain white paper plates and other papers were stacked nearby.

At the table by the front door was a giant grey basket with a sign that said, “Please place books here.” Carrie was tucking a lap copy of “Goodnight Moon” and a version of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” into the basket. Meanwhile, Willow and Dawn were supervising Oz and Xander attempt to hang a banner over the fireplace that said, “Happy Baby Shower” with silver stars separating each word. Willow had her hands on her hips, and Dawn’s arms were crossed as Oz stepped up onto a chair while Xander strained to get his end high enough.

“Hey, Buffy,” Willow said, briefly glancing at me. “We’re almost done.”

“Hey, Buff,” Xander said, adding, “I think I need a chair, too.”

“On it.” Dawn scrambled to grab another chair from the kitchen table. She bumped shoulders with me on the way by. “You look pretty. Love the dress. Sexy momma.”

Rolling my eyes, I smiled with affection at her. “Thanks.”

Carrie approached me with her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, her blonde hair in two long pigtails. “May I show you something?”

“Of course!”

I followed her over to the second card table on the other side of the living room. There were more markers, and on a small canvas, there was a large navy sky with a full white moon that had a smiling face, little craters pockmarking his cheeks. Small yellow stars were scattered all around the canvas. I reached out and touched a star, my hand shaking almost imperceptibly.

“What is it?” I asked. “The moon is adorable.”

“I made it. People write their name on each little star.” She held up one of the stars, showing me the back. “They’re adhesive, so each person can put their star in the night sky. In lieu of a sign-in book. You can hang it in the nursery after the shower.”

“Oh wow. That’s beautiful. I love it. Thank you, Carrie.” I gave her a side hug because with the belly and all.

“You’re very welcome.” She nudged a star across the table in my direction. “You and Spike should put your names on there. Well, maybe not Buffy and Spike. Mum and Dad?”

I laughed. “I like that.” Uncapping a marker and trying to write neatly, I printed, “Mommy.” After fumbling with the back a bit, I pressed the star next to the moon.

Spike had turned up as I finished, and he immediately got it and was soon fixing his own star near mine. “It’s a creative bit of art.” He nodded at the other Slayer.

She beamed and headed toward Xander to offer him an unneeded hand down from the chair.

Willow hurried over, a little skip in her step. Oz was on her tail, hair a dark brown color instead of his natural red. “Hey, my friend. You look all glow-y, and you were worried about the dress. It looks perfect!” Apparently, I’d told everyone about my dress fears.

“I feel a little like a sausage in it,” I admitted, fidgeting with the hem and then the fabric around my hips. “But thank you. And Wil, this is perfect. I’m so excited to see everyone.”

“And nervous,” Wil observed.

I pushed my lips to one side and then gnawed on my cheek. “Am I that obvious?”

Spike placed his hand on the small of my back. “Um, yeah, love. Heart rate’s faster, sweat, cheek biting. No need to be worried, pet. You’ve dealt with much tougher crowds than the one that’s coming.”

“All those annoying Potential girls in Sunnydale,” Dawn said, appearing at my elbow.

“Hey,” said Carrie.

“You weren’t there. And besides, you’re not hogging the shower and all the hot water,” Dawn clarified.

Xander slipped his arm over Carrie’s shoulders. “Don’t forget the Watcher’s Council.”

Squishing up her face in deep concentration for a few seconds, Willow then brightened when she thought of her own example. “Ooo! Those pesky Slayers in Australia a couple of years ago. You know, the ten or so who rebelled – ”

Leah ducked into their circle, her eyes round. “The roaches!”

Crystal joined the group, wiping her hands on a paper towel. “What’re we talking about?” Uh oh.

Leah tilted her head way back, so she could see her mother’s face. “Buffy squished a whole bunch of roaches for me at her old house a long time ago.” 

“Ah,” Crystal said with a smile. “She hates roaches.”

“So do I, Lil Bit,” Spike said. I felt him shudder just a little.

The doorbell rang, and Dawn ran to answer it. She peered through the peephole, and then, she swung the door open. To my surprise, everyone seemed to have arrived at once, and all were bearing wrapped gifts. Giles entered followed by George and Emily. Shane and Charlotte were close behind along with Liz, Katie, Kishan, and Michael. Hana and her tweed-loving Watcher even came, and I was amused to see that he wore cowboy boots and a cowboy hat with the tweed coat and Wrangler blue jeans. Behind them, Alex from the Spotted Cat was chatting with an animated Fred-Illyria, and Angel slouched in last, his hands in his pockets. He gave me a small smile, which I returned.

Carrie directed them to deposit their books in the basket, which was quickly overflowing. Faith had been invited, too. At the last minute, she wasn’t able to come, but she’d sent a gift: a stuffed puppy with the softest brown plush and a Clifford the Big Red Dog book.

Then, people greeted me. I was relieved that Spike stayed by my side, helping me receive our guests. Hugs flowed freely, and everyone wanted to touch my belly, which I didn’t mind. The baby even kicked at Illyria, which made her brown eyes light up. I found myself smiling at and chatting with everyone, my nerves falling away.

Angel continued to bring up the rear, his brown eyes unreadable, and he bent to give me a light hug before holding a hand out to Spike, who hesitated a moment before grasping it. “Congratulations, William. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, mate. I appreciate you saying so.” Spike was earnest, the white flag accepted.

“And Buffy, you look,” I could see some unidentifiable emotions warring in Angel’s eyes as he tried to choose the right word. He settled on, “You look lovely.”

“She looks effulgent,” Spike teased, kissing my temple.

I laughed. “Thank you. It’s the sweat,” I joked, a little corner in the back of my heart tugging for Angel, but this time, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the feeling was compassion and a faded unrenewable first love. “How’s Connor?”

Angel ran a hand through his hair, his fingers lingering on the back of his neck. “He’s good. A little annoyed that his dear old dad is trying to hang out with him and look after him after all this time. I cook for him, do his laundry. He’s got long hours.”

“That’s good of you. Never too late,” Spike said, kindness in his tone.

“I heard from the Slayer near you that you’re helping her out some.” It was weird to think he was working with another Slayer, but it helped a little to know that she was easily annoyed by him, liked him despite that, and kept him in his place. Alison was kinda like Cordelia that way.

Now, Angel’s smile was unhesitating. “Illyria and I are, yes. It’s been interesting.”

“Being a real boy and all,” Spike supplied.

“Yeah.” Angel inclined his head in the direction of Shane and Charlotte. “Your cousin looks a lot like you.”

Spike crossed his arms thoughtfully. “It’s rather uncanny, huh?”

My sister was standing with one hip jutted out and one hand running through her short tresses as she chattered on to Shane with a big grin on her face. Spike, to his credit, didn’t bat an eye. They’d had a talk prior to the shower, but I wasn’t privy to the content of said conversation.

From over by the fireplace, Willow cleared her throat. “Everyone grab snacks and a drink. Then, we’re going to play games. And everyone is going to participate.” She looked pointedly over at the Watchers, who were clustered together, no doubt chatting about Watcher-related things.

Michael was trying on the cowboy hat, and Kishan was leaning on the breakfast bar, watching the other Slayers, who were giggling about something that young women find amusing. (God, did that mean I was old?) George was staring at my sister talking with Shane with an expression on his face that I could only describe as jealous but in a very British Watcher-ly way. It would remind me a bit of Wesley crushing on Cordelia, but there was something else in his eyes beyond a crush – something I saw in Spike’s eyes even now.

Giles lifted his plate of snacks in good humor. “Must we participate?”

“We must,” Willow said firmly. “In here. And Buffy, make sure to get food.”

“I’m on Buffy food and drink duty,” my sister announced, leaving Shane and Charlotte and making a beeline for the snacks.

I glanced at Spike and lifted my eyebrows. “You planned this. Was that what you talked about?”

Spike smirked. “Partly.”

“Argh.”

He took my elbow. “The guest of honor should sit.”

Sitting sounded fantastic. “Fine.”

Soon, everyone was gathered in the sparse living room with food and drink; we only had a sofa and the TV. Luckily, we were borrowing chairs from Emily, George, and Crystal, so almost everyone had a seat. Carrie and Xander wove around everyone, passing out a plain white paper plate and a single marker.

“What’s this for?” Sitting cross-legged on the floor by Liz, Hana held up the plate and looked at the top and bottom as if the blank paper product held all the answers.

“A game. You’ll see,” Carrie said. She stepped back from the group. “Everyone have a plate and marker?”

“Erm, I don’t have one,” I said, feeling a bit left out.

“That’s because you don’t need one. You’re the judge,” Xander said with exuberance. Who knew he’d get into baby shower games?

“Oh! Okay. What am I judging?” I held my baby bump with one hand and a piece of pregnancy-safe cheese in the other.

Xander nodded. “Everyone is going to put the plate on top of their head.” He carefully placed the plate on his head as if he were going to walk around the room, trying to balance it in place. “And you’re going to take your marker and draw a picture of something when we say go.”

“What on Earth are we doing?” Giles piped up with an incredulous expression on his face.

“Just do it, Giles,” Willow commanded.

“Fine, fine.” He obediently put the plate on top of his head, and I tried and failed to suppress a giggle as the line-up of Watchers balanced their own plates in a kind of Watcher-wave-of-paper-plates.

Katie and Liz joined in with the laughter, then, plopped their own plates up top. Everyone else followed suit.

“Now, uncap your markers!” Xander said as if he were trying to arouse enthusiasm in a less than animated crowd whose sports team was losing.

“It would have been wise to ready the writing instruments prior to placement of the plates,” Illyria said from across the room next to Angel, both their left hands holding down the bit of paper in comical synchrony.

“Good point,” Oz said.

Xander rolled his eyes. “Everybody lower your plate and uncap your marker. Then, reposition your plates for the race!”

“Can you give us a hint about what we’re drawing?” Dawn asked from next to Charlotte. My sister had not been part of the game planning. 

“When I say, ‘go,’ you’ll have 30 seconds to draw a baby on your plate. You have to keep the plate on top of your head. No peeking,” Xander explained with a little too much glee.

“Really? Dang,” Charlotte said.

“Charlotte, language.” Shane playfully poked his daughter.

With an impish expression, she nudged him back so hard he almost fell over, but he was smiling.

“Ready?” Xander said, holding up his phone to time the game and his opposite arm like he was signaling a car race to start. “Go!” He theatrically lowered his arm.

Trying hard not to laugh, I studied the faces of everyone in the room as they concentrated on the task. My heart was full. These were the people I loved and cared about more than anyone in this world, and they were all here to celebrate the baby. My eyes welled up even as I was smiling, and Spike pushed his leg against mine on the sofa even as he drew his picture.

“And time!” Xander shouted. “Carrie will pick up your plates. Remember what yours looks like.”

Willow popped up next to him and gave them her you-better-listen-to-me face. “We’re on an honor system here, people.”

Spike snorted in good humor, and I leaned over and kissed his arm.

Everyone peered down at their drawing and compared with one another, all talking at once so that I couldn’t really pick out who was saying what. Soon, the plates were all deposited in what was left of my lap.

“Mine has the big ears,” Kishan called. “He’s really cute.”

“No cheating,” Liz protested, mock-glaring at him. She turned to me. “Mine has a bowtie. Sorta.”

“Hey!” Michael echoed her objection.

Katie stuck her tongue out at her Watcher.

Michael turned to George. “How do you keep your Slayer in line so well?”

George regarded him evenly. “Emily keeps me in line. She works harder than I do.”

Emily and Dawn exchanged a look and laughed, but I had no idea why.

“What are y’all talking about?” Crystal asked. Oops again. A much bigger oops.

Oz perked up and glanced at me and then Willow. We both shrugged. Then, he addressed Crystal. “Vampires and demons are real. Slayers – these lovely ladies – stop them from doing various nefarious things.”

“Like destroying the world,” Willow added.

“And their Watchers. . . watch,” Oz finished.

“I’d say we do a bit more than that,” Giles corrected.

My stomach sank, but not very far because it was all squished from my ever-expanding uterus.

“That explains a lot,” Crystal said with an unreadable expression on her face.

Oz grinned. “That’s exactly what I said when I found out.”

Then, Crystal glanced at me with knowing and tolerant eyes. She turned to Leah, who wasn’t looking the least bit frightened. “You know that you’re safe, right?”

“Yeah. Spike and Buffy keep me safe. You and Daddy keep me safe. I’m not worried.” Leah patted her mother on the arm.

I caught Alex winking at Spike. She did know.

Crisis averted, my attention turned to the plates in my lap. I felt all eyes on me. Such pressure! Slowly flipping through the funny drawings with body parts of various sizes and shapes. One baby didn’t even have a body but did have an attempt at a bow near-ish to the head. Maybe that was Liz’s? “Most of these do not look like babies.”

“Yes! But which one is the best baby?” Hana asked.

I started setting aside the ones obviously not in the running and settled on three finalists, one of which I knew was Leah’s because she’d brightened up and bounced out of her seat when I was evaluating hers. “Okay. Three finalists!” I held them up for everyone to see. “Don’t tell me if it’s yours.” No one paid attention. I could totally tell my finalists by their body language: Leah, Illyria, and George. I couldn’t pick Leah’s because hers was just a scribble, but George and Illyria both had babies that looked. . . well, that looked like babies. If I squinted.

Everyone was watching me expectantly, and I gave the drawings another once-over. “This is really subjective, but I’m going to have to go with. . .” Oh god, this was hard. “This one!” I held up the winning drawing.

Fred-Illyria bounced with joy on her very human face. “That one’s mine!”

Carrie swooped in with a prize tucked in a navy paper bag with moon and star stickers all over it. “Here you go! Congrats!”

Leah looked disappointed, but Willow handed her a smaller bag. “Here you go for the runner-up.”

Leah pulled out a stuffed pig, beamed, and clutched it to her chest. “Thank you!”

Illyria opened hers. “Oh, a candle. How lovely. It will go well in my new place.”

“Your new place?” Spike asked.

She nodded. “I moved into a condo near my parents, using the money Fred had left from the law firm.” I was not explaining that one to Crystal and Alex.

Angel shifted forward in his seat. “I told her she should use it. That Fred would be okay with it.”

Illyria clutched the jar candle, gazing down at it. “I think she would be.”

“Especially since you’ve been keeping her parents company,” Spike added. I trailed my hand over his back. He’d gained a lot of his weight back in the last month or so, and I was still relieved he was solid and here with me.

Willow led the group in one more game. We had to name the baby animal that corresponded with each mother. (Who knew that a giraffe baby was a calf and a badger baby was a kit or cub?) Then, everyone wanted me to open the presents, and I, of course, asked Spike to help because I knew he’d want to touch everything and see it up close. It was like my birthday, only with way more packages than I ever conceived of having. Luckily, ribbons, string, and tape were no match for a Slayer. . . or her vampire.

We ended up taking turns unwrapping presents. Oz sat next to me and typed up names with the corresponding gifts. Willow took photos, and Dawn helped gather up the wrappings and organize everything out of the way. By the end, we were a well-oiled machine.

There was the horse bib along with bottles, a formula pitcher, and a bottle drying stand from Crystal and Leah. The Watchers had pooled their money and given us a huge gift card plus the infant car seat. Katie and Liz had gone shopping together and bought many outfits in various sizes and colors, many with green alligators and other cute creatures on them. There was even a tiny soft alligator rattle. Hana and her Watcher gave us tiny cowboy boots and a grey cowboy hat, which everyone “oohed” over. Emily and George brought a gift card and vibrating bouncy chair. Alex gave us swaddles of various kinds from the registry along with pacifiers, including the tiny giraffe Wubbanub.

Willow and Oz presented us a cute convertible baby bathtub with loads of bath accessories: washcloths, a towel with a hood that had elephant ears and a trunk, bath toys, a temperature gauge shaped like an alligator, and a bunch of the creams and cleansers we’d registered for.

Dawn gave the baby a onesie that said, “My Aunt is the Cool One” and the Nerf Vortex Nitron Blaster. Of course.

Spike grinned, and I rolled my eyes as I held it up the giant toy. “I thought I took it off the registry.”

“He totally needs it,” Dawn replied. “And oh, there’s a gift card tucked in the blaster box.”

Angel handed me only a card, and I shot him a questioning look because there was obviously something stuffed in the envelope besides the card. “From Illyria and me.”

“Thank you.” I opened the card and out fell a gift card and the waffle teether.

Illyria-Fred was beaming. “I had to.”

Spike fingered the tiny waffle through the plastic wrap. “I know. It’s perfect.”

Charlotte ran over with the present from her and Shane. “Here you go.” She deposited the package in Spike’s lap before throwing her arms around his neck and then mine. “I’m glad we’re family.”

Spike squeezed her shoulder. “We are, too.” He tore open the present to find a tiny T-shirt that said, “My Cousin Loves Me” with a tiny blue anchor under the words. There were matching shorts, socks, and shoes along with another gift card. Shane, Spike, Charlotte, and I had agreed they’d call each other cousin rather than sister and brother.

“We got it a little big, so he could wear it longer,” Charlotte explained. “I can’t wait to meet him!”

“Us, too,” I said. Shane and Charlotte were planning to visit after the baby was born, and Willow was toying with the idea of inviting them to the wedding, which was tentatively set for October around Halloween time.

Xander then dragged out a beautifully carved wooden trunk, kind of like the one he’d made me in Sunnydale for weapons. After he’d positioned it in front of me, he said, “I know what you’re thinking. This is not that. I’m working on another weapons chest for you, but it’ll be childproof. That one’s going to take a while. This one,” he flipped open the lid, “is a toy chest for the baby.” He pushed the lid down, and it sank slowly. “There’s no way little hands are going to get caught in here.”

“Oh, Xander,” I breathed, “it’s beautiful.” My fingers found and traced the carvings on the top. It was a scene from Beauty and the Beast with an intricate castle and a beast in the window of one of the towers, and Belle was dancing in the castle gardens, flowers blooming all around her. On the front and all four sides, there were images from other tales: Robin Hood aiming at something with a bow and arrow, King Arthur pulling at a sword in a giant stone boulder, and the Little Mermaid perching on a rock with ocean waves crashing all around her.

“You like it?”

“I love it,” I said, meeting his eyes so he knew I meant it.

Carrie made sure I was sitting back and reopened the lid. “And there are already toys inside.”

“I see.” And there were toys for different stages of the baby’s development during the first year. “Thank you, guys. It’s very generous.”

Giles brought a book of fairy tales, which he handed to me unwrapped. I opened the cover to find an inscription to the baby. He also had another bottle of whisky, which he slapped against Spike’s open palm. “Save that for when I come to stay with you after the baby is born.”

Spike cast an eye over the bottle and then nodded at Giles. “Will do.”

“W-what?” I couldn’t believe what I just heard.

Giles stripped the glasses off his face and regarded me with gentle eyes. “Didn’t Spike tell you that the reason I bought you this place is so I have a decent place to stay when I visit?”

“He’s coming to stay with us right after the baby is born if you’re okay with that, pet,” Spike explained.

Tears filled my eyes. He really was my only parent. I jumped up, if a tad awkwardly, and hugged my Watcher – also awkwardly. I didn’t care. At all. “I love you.”

He embraced me back and then kissed the top of my head. When he drew away, he was blinking far too rapidly for him to hide all emotion. I knew he loved me, too.

Now that I was standing, I knew I had to make a speech, hopefully, one less grim than the ones I’d made in Sunnydale. Surveying all their faces watching me, I felt a tug in my heart for each person in our house. I took a deep breath and began, “Thank you all for coming tonight. It means the world to me that you are all here to celebrate our son’s upcoming birth. There are new faces and old faces, but each of you is special to us.” I bit my lip to stave off the tears, and when I was sure I was safe, I continued. “When Spike and I started this journey, I thought we were alone; sometimes I thought I was alone. It was like I was on a little boat in the ocean, being tossed by the waves.” At this point, I wasn’t sure what I was talking about – the journey to being a mother or the journey of being a Slayer. “But then, one by one, each of you joined me.” Spike moved next to me, taking my hand, keeping his eyes on me. I saw Xander and Willow’s eyes soften with tears, Giles was smiling, and my sister joined me, tucking her hand in the crook of my elbow. “Thank you. You don’t know how much you mean to me. . .” I threaded my fingers between Spike’s. “To us.” I inhaled again. “And now? There’s cake.”

65. Another night of no sleep

“Pet, what are you doing?”

I about jumped out of my skin and almost knocked over the stack of tiny baby clothes, blankets, sheets, and swaddles I was folding. “N-nothing.”

Spike was lounging in the doorway to the vampire-cave, his long black lounging pants low on his hips, his torso bare. “Doesn’t look like nothing what with the telly on mute. Are you watching an infomercial? What’s a Bacon Cup?”

I gestured at the TV from where I sat on the sofa. “It’s the only thing on at three in the morning. And I didn’t want to wake you. So, mute.”

“Doesn’t matter about the sound. You not sleeping again?”

“No.” I shook my head, my eyes welling with tears. I was so exhausted. Between the heartburn, the constant congestion that didn’t seem to want to drain from my sinuses, and fun new daily diarrhea, I couldn’t sleep. I hadn’t slept well in days, and I thought the sleeplessness from the steroid prior to the IVF egg retrieval was bad. Plus, I was so hot, and I thought I was hot in Texas springtime. It was nothing compared with the New Orleans summer heat, which had somehow gotten even hotter in the weeks since the shower.

He crossed the room to sit next to me, putting his arm gently around my shoulders. He picked up a bright red onesie with a smiling crab on the front of it. “What’s this?”

I sniffed. Great. More congestion. Just what I needed. “Laundry. I read somewhere that you should wash all the newborn stuff before the birth. Baby skin is sensitive skin.”

He lifted both eyebrows and regarded me. “Are you nesting, pet?”

“No!” I gave him a playful shove. “I don’t even think it’s a thing. I have no feelings about building a nest of any sort. I just can’t sleep for all the reasons you can probably tell with your,” I wiggled my fingers in his face, “enhanced vampire senses.” My hand molded into a pointer finger close to his nose. “And don’t even tell me that the lack of sleep is good practice for when the baby is born.”

He raised both hands with his palms facing me, a hint of amusement pulling up the corner of his mouth. “I’m not saying a word.”

“Good.” I picked up the crab onesie and refolded it. I wasn’t about to tell him how I’d set up the nursery, putting up the mobile and arranging toys and books on a wooden bookcase next to the toy chest Xander made. “I love the little clothes.”

Spike wandered over to the other side of the pile of unfolded laundry. He resituated himself and began helping me fold. “Me, too.” He held up the bib he’d picked out at Babies “R” Us. “I still like this.”

I softened at the amazed expression on his face. “I know.” No one had bought it from the registry, so I’d made a special trip to the store to pick it up for him. I’d even bought a backup in case something happened to that one.

“You know, love, I’m going to help. It’s not like you’re going to be up all night alone. And well, I’m happy to take a shift with the little guy, so you can rest.”

I reached over and squeezed his knee. “I’m sorry. I’m just so. . . this is going to sound really bad. But I’m tired of being pregnant.”

He chuckled. “Over it, eh?”

“So over it. Ready for the little guy to come out already.” I finished folding a swaddle and added it to the blankets pile. “Did I tell you that I’m wiping my bum with baby wipes? Baby wipes!” My nurse had suggested the wipes. “Tmi, but I’m so uncomfortable.”

“What’d the doc say about that?” Spike had worked that evening, so I hadn’t had a chance to fill him in.

I lifted one shoulder. “Apparently, it’s normal. The body’s way of preparing for the birth. Cleaning everything out. I dunno. That’s what Dr. Google said.”

“What’d the actual doc say about the swelling? Blood pressure okay?” He sounded casual, but he asked every time he couldn’t go, and he was concerned.

“Blood pressure’s still good. I’m dilated four centimeters, and she made me do another NST. It was just as uncomfortable as the last one, but baby’s moving well, his vitals are good, and I had the occasional contraction.” At Spike’s alarmed expression, I rushed to add, “But they were rare, and I’m definitely not in labor. She suggested rest because of the swelling. Not that I feel like doing any of the things they suggested for starting labor. Not lots of walking, not spicy foods with this nuclear level heartburn, and definitely a ‘no’ on the sex.” Now, I was worried. The third trimester had not been conducive to intimate relations.

He ran the back of his fingers gently over my upper arm. “Do you remember what I said about that?”

I met his gaze briefly. “That you love me for more than just sex?”

“God, yes, pet. I love you for all of you.” He was gazing at me with such love in his eyes that I couldn’t deny it, and I never wanted to look away from him the way I used to.

“I love you for more than just that, too.” He really was my everything.

“Even when you’re a cranky nesting pregnant lady.” He was highly focused on the onesie he was folding with precision.

I threw a burp cloth at his head, which he grabbed out of the air with ease. Stupid vampire reflexes. Then, he leaned over and nipped at the lower lip I didn’t realize was sticking out before replacing blunt teeth with soft lips.

“I’ll stay up with you, but there has to be something on besides this sodding Bacon Cup thing. Don’t even know if I want to unmute it.” He hunted around for the remote until I located it under the pile of sheets and mattress covers. I slapped the plastic into his upturned palm.

“Knock yourself out.”

I continued to fold as he surfed leisurely through the channels. A few minutes later, he flicked off the television in defeat. “You’re right. There’s not a sodding thing on that’s worth watching.”

“Told you.” I arranged the folded laundry from biggest to smallest, and I blinked bleary eyes at him. “Should we put on a movie?”

“Sure.” He ambled over to the stack of movies, which had grown and now included a Sesame Street compilation, a Baby Einstein DVD, and the Happiest Baby on the Block, which Spike had already watched and scoffed at. Crystal said the tips were lifesavers. We’d see once the baby was born. Squatting, Spike ran a finger over the titles of our collection. “How ‘bout ‘The Avengers’? Didn’t know we had it.”

“Dawn brought it over from George’s.”

She’d been spending a lot more time with George since the shower. He’d apparently not taken well to her flirtation with Shane, and he’d made a more formal move to ask her out. Dawn had happily taken him up on it. Spike hadn’t said a word about it, which I supposed was better than how he’d reacted to her dating Thomas and her teasingly asking about his cousin.

“All right then. ‘Avengers’ it is.” He removed the disc from the case and slipped it in the Blu Ray player. As the movie booted up, he faced me with his hands on his hips. “Snacks?”

I shook my head. My stomach rolled at the thought of me putting anything into it. “No. Not for me. Maybe some water?”

He passed me on the way to the kitchen and bent to kiss my forehead. “Gonna heat up some blood. I’ll grab you a water. Iced, right?” 

“Please.” If I was lucky, he’d even rub a cube on my neck. It really did wonders for the heat. . . for pregnant ladies and Slayers.

As soon as he was rattling around in the kitchen, I heaved myself off the sofa and immediately felt a gush of liquid down my legs. Uh oh.

“Spike!”

Hearing the panic in my voice, he was back in a flash. “Yeah, pet? Oh.” He must have smelled it before I could say anything. “Your water broke.”

I gave him a sheepish grin. “Looks like. Good thing we didn’t buy that rug yet.” The floors were a beautiful wood. Did amniotic fluid damage hardwood? I had no idea.

Spike went into panic mode. “Where’s the bag?”

At the recommendation of the nurse on our hospital tour, I’d packed two bags, one for labor and one for after. “Bags. They’re on top of the washing machine.” The laundry room was right next to the garage.

“Okay. Perfect.” He frowned. “Where did I put the bloody keys? And my phone?” He darted off in the direction of the kitchen. Moments later, I heard, “Bloody hell!” And, “Fuck!” He poked his head back into the room, his face chagrined. “You okay, love? Can I do anything?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. Find the keys. And your phone.”

“I’ll hurry.” He dashed off again.

“I’m just gonna go change,” I said more to myself than Spike.

Snagging a dress out of the closet, I hurried into the bathroom and calmly changed clothes, leaving the wet leggings in the bathtub. I brushed my hair and tugged it into a low bun. Pulling flip-flops – the only shoes that fit – over my swollen feet, I scooped up my phone, charger, and wallet as well as some over-the-counter meds and toiletries I used daily. I threw them into an empty cross-body bag. I could hear Spike rushing around and met him in the kitchen where he was trying to stuff his phone into the nonexistent pocket of his lounging pants – the ones that were always in a heap on the floor when he climbed into bed.

“Um.” 

He glanced up to see me standing there in fresh clothes with my cross-body bag halfway over my head.

I gave his pants a pointed look.

He glanced down. “Oh. Yeah.” Then, he hurried to the bedroom to change.

While he was gone, I remembered Dawn, who was spending the night at Emily’s place. Fumbling with my bag, I pulled out the phone and zinged off a text. “Baby on the way. Meet us at the hospital after you get sleep. Love you.”

In less than a minute, he was back in the kitchen with me, keys in hand. “You ready, love?”

It was really happening. We were having a baby. Anxiety shot through my chest, mingling with the heartburn. “I think so.”

He picked up my shaking hand. “You got this, pet. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Then, he held up said hand and slapped a bag of almonds and a fruity granola bar on my palm. “And you’re going to eat a snack in the car.” I kissed his cheek. “Thanks. I forgot about the no-eating-during-labor thing.”