31. The morning before embryo transfer
I silently counted to three and slowly pushed the progesterone in oil into “the upper outer quadrant of my buttocks” where the nurse who’d checked my uterine lining at the clinic in Metairie had drawn me a little “x” to mark the spot. Contrary to my expectations, the big IM shot was getting easier. I’d only drawn back once to find blood and had to start over. The resulting squirting blood had sent Spike running to check on me. Sensitive nose on that one.
Sliding out the needle, I pressed a cotton swab to the resulting pinprick wound and nudged the needle into its cap. A few seconds later, I patted a ready Band-Aid in place. Then, I inserted the morning dose of Endometrin and estrogen into my vagina, swapping out the panty liner for a clean one. I checked the Minivelle patches lined up around my belly button. I’d gone from one that I changed every other day to four, and they were all still in place. Then, I swiftly cleaned up the mess in Dawn’s bathroom, which she luckily didn’t share with her roommate, who was home this time around.
Spike was sleeping in Dawn’s bed, and I joined him under the covers, careful to keep the current hormone-filled side of my butt up. Spike turned to face me and drew me close, nuzzling my hair and finding and very gently massaging the muscle. I winced and then relaxed as his touch eased the pain just a bit.
“That was a record, pet,” he whispered.
I drew his arm around my midsection to cradle against my chest. “Right? Think self-administering shots all twisted and backward is like a new super power?”
He chuckled and drew his legs up against the back of mine. “Maybe.”
“Maybe I could use it on vampires? Inject some holy water during a fight?”
“Not sure how that’d go over. Lack of circulation and all.”
I frowned at the new conundrum. “But vampires have other working bodily functions.”
He pushed his hips against me to show me that I was indeed correct. “Magic, pet. It’s magic.”
“Hmm. Maybe I’ll inject it in the heart? That ought to do the trick.” Kralik had ingested the holy water that killed him. A shot through the heart of the stuff would probably have the same effect.
Spike snorted. “Wood’s a helluva lot more efficient.”
“True. Wonder why we never soaked the stakes in holy water.”
“Too much work. Unnecessary.” He slid his fingers between mine.
My brain continued to whirl with ideas despite our 3 AM arrival into Denver. “Maybe Andrew could make a ring that injects holy water into the heart somehow? A little dart of the stuff?” Andrew was constantly piloting gadgets with different Slayer groups across the globe. Giles made the remaining nerd spread his inventions around because Giles was afraid something “untoward” would happen if he allowed Andrew to focus his efforts in one location.
“Maybe so, pet.”
I pouted. “You’re not playing along.”
“And you’re distracting me from sleep. Again.” He didn’t sound too annoyed.
I huffed a little. “You usually like distraction.”
“I do, but you’re –”
“Distracting myself from thinking about how we’re one day away from our transfer?”
He kissed the back of my head. “Yeah. I’m nervous, too, you know.”
I grasped his hand tighter. “I know.”
“Tell me about how it’ll go.” He sounded sleepy.
I spoke softly, “So, we leave early in our rented hamster mobile, so I can do the acupuncture before the transfer. Remember to remind me to not wear deodorant. Apparently, the embryos are sensitive to smells. Like you.”
“What kind of malarkey is that?” His tone matched my own. “And I don’t wear deodorant. And haven’t smoked in a week.”
“I’m very proud of you, honey.” I held up his hand and kissed his knuckles before nestling our hands back in place on my chest. He’d tapered quite easily, much more easily than I expected, and he’d hid his grumpiness from me though I’d heard from Alex that he was more jittery than normal at work. She’d even sent me a little video of him, which made me giggle. I hadn’t shown it to Spike. “And apparently, it’s a thing. No scented anything. Use the Dove Unscented when you shower.”
“Got it. Continue.” His voice was quieter. He was falling asleep on me.
I listed off the next steps, feeling pulled by dreams myself. (Thank god there was no steroid this time.) “Then, I do the acupuncture, and then, you come in and so do the doc and the person from the lab, and they do the transfer. The little embryo will have a nice thick lining to nestle into.” Apparently, the most ideal uterine lining for embryo implantation had a tri-laminar appearance developed through the use of the estrogen. I had looked up the name of the lining more than once. The docs and nurses really didn’t explain much along the way. Luckily, the last ultrasound showed that I had the right kind of lining. “Then, more acupuncture while I lay down for an hour.”
I felt him stir behind me. “And the Asian needle technique does what exactly?”
“It’s supposed to help you relax, and some research shows that it improves implantation rates.”
“Ah. Doesn’t sound relaxing.” I remembered Spike’s needle avoidance and still wondered what that was about, and I almost asked, but then, he said, “Will be taking a picture of that.” He grunted when I elbowed him.
“No, you will not. But you will take a photo of our little embryo. I think they show us a picture on the screen before transfer.”
“Will do.” Spike was proficient with technology and always had his phone like every other human being on the planet. He took photos of demon-hunting kills and different Slayer-related scenes to share with the local Slayer when we worked on cases together. There were pictures of beautiful little moments that he noticed throughout his day like a white crane perched on the back of a bench on Frenchman or one of the many street performers, joyfully making music for passersby. He had several photos of me and a few of little Leah. One was a cute video of the two of them making goofy faces at the camera and laughing. He didn’t know I’d seen it because Leah had shown it to me when he wasn’t in the room, but it was adorable.
I continued with my description of the process, “I also have to drink a bunch of water before they do the transfer, so they can see what they’re doing, but hoo boy, that hour of lying there afterward is going to be challenging. Apparently, I can use the bed pan.”
“Modern chamber pots aren’t so bad. Better than going to the privy in the middle of the night.”
I smiled that he remembered a time with no flushing toilets. He was so going to help our kid with history class someday. If we had a kid to be in school. “If you say so. Just weird to pee in front of you.”
“Not like I don’t hear it at home.”
“Oh. Yeah. Others then.”
He perked up a little at that. “You’ve been poked and prodded by all manner of high tech gadgets, and you’re worried about peeing in front of other people at the clinic?”
“Good point. Not worth worrying about.”
Spike settled back down into the pillow behind my head. “And then?”
I snuggled closer still. “And then, we come back here, and I have to be on bedrest. The amount of time for that is a little unclear.”
“As is the research as to whether it’s beneficial or not.” I kept forgetting that Spike’s eyes were as wide open as mine regarding the process.
“I’ll follow their instructions,” I insisted. I didn’t often do things exactly by the book, but I was learning to toe the line in this process, at least a little. I vaguely wondered what happened to the women who didn’t follow the steps. The clinics really did rely on women to do what was needed.
“And I’ll see that you do,” Spike assured me.
A question that I’d been avoiding saying aloud popped into my head, and I found that drowsiness allowed me to ask it, “Do you care if we have a boy or a girl?”
Spike was quiet for several seconds, and I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. It was hard to tell sometimes even after all our time together. Then, he said, “I don’t really care either way.”
“What do you mean? You don’t have a preference?” I’d never thought to ask this, but now, I was curious. The clinic didn’t tell us gender until a heartbeat was found at the six-and-a-half-week ultrasound. We had two embryos, but they transferred the best grade because it had a higher chance of success. Spike and I had decided against transferring both because of the physical, financial, and emotional stress and risks that came with having twins.
“I really don’t. I didn’t expect to have a child at all. Boy or girl. I’ll love him or her all the same.”
Good answer. I sighed against him. “I don’t care either.” I remembered a time when I had my life planned out. When I thought my life would be normal and mundane. Before I became the Slayer. “I used to want three kids, maybe four, back before I knew what raising kids entailed.” Financially and emotionally. “And sometimes, when Dawn was being really annoying, I wished that I had a little brother instead.”
Spike disentangled his hand from mine and ran his fingers up my shirt, settling his palm over my sticker-infested belly. “Seems we both had different dreams before our lives changed unexpectedly.”
“Seems like.” I paused and added, “Thank god.”
Spike yawned. “Yes. Thank whoever’s out there looking over things.” He nuzzled his nose into my hair as he often did when we slept together.
Then, we fell asleep.
32. The morning of embryo transfer
“A Slayer! A Slayer is here!”
My entire body tensed, and I felt Spike go rigid next to me. Seriously? The day of our transfer? I knew Dr. Surrey had said the clinic helped demons who were trying to conceive, but we hadn’t run into one the entire time we’d been coming to the clinic.
Sighing, I gripped the edge of the counter where we were waiting for a nurse to check us in and closed my eyes. Then, I pivoted to search for the owner of the voice that sounded like he swallowed knives.
Spike groaned softly next to me. “Bloody hell. A Grappler.”
“A what?” I side-whispered, taking in the only other couple with us in the dark reception area. A tall, grey-skinned demon with horns jutting out of his chin glared our direction, and his human companion held his arm, trying to hold him back. Her face was a mask of desperation. Oh crap.
Spike looked a little panicked as he edged in front of me. “They’re ruthless in a fight. But not the brightest of the bunch.”
I hadn’t brought any weapons. They weren’t exactly high on the list for today. Of all the days to be unprepared Slayer. “Great.”
“And a vampire,” the demon growled, puffing up and clenching his fists. He addressed Spike, “And you’re one to talk about intelligence.”
“Lonnie. Seriously. This is not the time,” the woman pleaded. “You promised that this weekend would be relaxing. I need to relax.”
I smiled at the young woman. “Seriously. Transfer day?”
The corner of her mouth went up, and she nodded. Gesturing at me, she spoke to Lonnie, “See. She’s here for the same thing we are.”
“With a vampire?” Lonnie asked incredulously. “It’s unnatural. And impossible.” His shoulders dropped a fraction, which wasn’t saying much because he was tall and looming. Not that that stopped me before but still.
The Grappler’s partner must have to deal with this all the time because she ran her hand gently down his arm to calm him. “How is it for us to judge? We’re here in the same place for the same thing.”
“Still.” Lonnie took a step forward, shaking off the woman’s hand. “This means something that they’re here. Now.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Spike retorted, and it was my turn to try and soothe my partner. I touched his elbow, and he reached back for my hand and squeezed when he found my fingers.
Someone cleared her throat behind me, and all four of us stared at Amy. Her smile did not conceal the sternness in her eyes. “Amanda’s right, Lonnie. You are here for the same reasons and not for a fight. Both of these ladies need to be relaxing.”
Another nurse appeared at Amy’s elbow, the younger nurse’s face a little less serene and in control than Amy’s. “Mr. and Mrs. Brown?”
Amanda perked up considerably. “That’s us.” She raised her eyebrows at her mate. “Let’s go. We’ll go through a drive-through on the way back to the hotel.”
Lonnie sighed. “All right. Wendy’s?”
Amanda’s relief was evident. “That’s fine.”
The Grappler demon glared at us as he went by.
Amy sighed. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries,” I said. “Believe me when I say we’ve dealt with way worse.”
“You’re a Slayer, huh?” Amy didn’t seem confused, so I guessed she’d heard of Slayers, which made sense. Most supernaturally-inclined individuals had. Her eyes flicked to Spike and back to me.
I shrugged. “One of many.” After ten years, saying this was old hat. A nice old hat.
“Good for you both.” She smiled, obviously getting it on a level that even I hadn’t anticipated. “Are you ready for the transfer?”
Spike slid his fingers between mine. The muscles in his forearm were still tense, which made his next words unsurprising. “I’m coming with her.”
“Even for the acupuncture?” Amy asked.
“Yeah. Even for.”
I glanced at Spike; his jaw was tight, but he’d brave the needles to ensure I was safe during the procedure. A rush of love flowed through my heart.
“All right,” Amy said with another smile. Then, she led us upstairs. Amanda and Lonnie were nowhere in sight.
The room was small and narrow with a monitor near the door, a narrow examination-type bed against one wall, and a chair for Spike near the head of the bed. As I settled on the bed, Amy went over the directions for after the transfer. We were staying with Dawn again. Bedrest was for forty-eight hours, but it wasn’t completely strict. I had to lay on my back but could prop up at a slight angle if I wanted. She even said we could go out to dinner as long as I didn’t overexert myself. I couldn’t shower for the first day. I wasn’t allowed to lift anything over ten pounds, but she said this might not apply to me since I had Slayer strength. Shots, patches, and vaginal medication all stayed the same. She said my nurse would send orders for the local bloodwork, including a beta check on the ninth day following transfer. The guidelines really weren’t as restrictive as I thought they’d be. The only rule that kind of sucked was that I had to sleep on my back, something I was not used to doing. Amy suggested propping pillows around me.
The final rules were no exercise and no sex at least until check for heartbeat at six and a half weeks.
When I glanced at Spike, his jaw was set. We’d already talked about this. He was holding firm. I pushed my bottom lip out at him, and he shook his head. “No.”
Amy sided with him. “Now that I know you’re a Slayer. Definitely no to anything remotely related to killing demons and vampires. The time will go by before you know it.”
I nodded, knowing that Spike might protest me doing anything remotely related to slaying at each pregnancy milestone. “Okay.”
Smirking triumphantly, Spike tucked the instruction list that Amy gave us into the tote bag I’d brought with me. Then, she gave me a Valium and instructed me to get undressed and ready for the transfer. Lucky for me, I’d remembered the sundress trick though I had a heavy coat with me this time. It was cold outside.
After Amy left the room, the acupuncture lady came into the room. She was probably in her thirties and had long blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail. Her demeanor was gentle and warm, and I immediately relaxed in her presence, the drama of the Grappler demon and Amanda forgotten.
Within minutes, I was lying on the table, Zen music that reminded me of Oz and Willow’s meditations playing softly in the background. Needles were scattered over me, the metal bits standing tall from where they were wedged into the surface of my skin. The acupuncturist only used a few, very small gauge needles in my head and legs and hands. As she twisted the needles, I zoned out and almost fell asleep. I only vaguely heard Spike shifting in the chair in the background.
The next thing I knew, the needles were gone, and Dr. Surrey and another older man entered the room. The older man introduced himself as John, the head of the lab, and he said that Spike and my embryo had thawed without a problem and looked “just beautiful.” They showed us a photo of the embryo on the screen, and true to his word, Spike snapped a picture. I wasn’t too aware of what the doctor and lab guy did to set up the procedure. Maybe it was the Valium? However, I was aware of the doctor poking around on my cervix and inserting the catheter.
Before I knew it, the catheter was being withdrawn, and the procedure done, and just like that, our hard-won embryo was home. Tears filled my eyes as I tried to sit up, and the doctor immediately told me to lower back down. I’d forgotten the instructions to lie there for an hour. Spike kissed my forehead, and the nurse came in to help me pee. Then, the acupuncturist reentered the room.
“You feel any different?” she asked, her blue eyes sparkling.
The corner of my mouth lifted. “Not really.” I frowned. “Did I pay you?”
She laughed, the corners of her eyes wrinkling in mirth. “You did.”
I peered at Spike. I had no memory of this. “I did?”
He ran a thumb over my cheek. “You did. I was there.”
“Oh.” The Valium was more powerful than I realized.
The acupuncturist smiled. “Don’t worry about anything. Just relax, okay?”
I gave her a small salute, settled back, and closed my eyes as she began placing the needles, pricking my skin with the short little taps from earlier. The same music floated around me, and I dozed.
Thirty minutes later, Spike was gingerly helping me into our rented Kia Soul in the dark, underground parking lot. The Grappler and his partner were long gone, and we saw only human couples. I decided not to worry about the demon; hopefully, he was looking after his newly PUPO partner.
Instead, from my inclined position, I watched Spike as he put the car in gear. He caught me studying him, and without a word, he took my hand in his. Still groggy from the Valium, I closed my eyes and smiled. I was looking forward to hiding away with Spike for a few days in Dawn’s apartment. As the entrance to the parking lot opened, white snowflakes peeked in at us, and we drove into the gently falling snow.
33. The second night after transfer
I woke to the sounds of soft but urgent murmurings coming from Dawn’s living room. Spike’s half of the bed was empty, the sheets and blanket a rumpled mess.
Shifting positions slightly to get more comfortable as my consciousness came online, my hand went to my stomach where I’d felt the faintest of twinges throughout the day, twinges that were probably my imagination and not the embryo burrowing into the lining of my uterus.
“Buffy?” Dawn entered the darkened room, whispering my name. She sat on the edge of the bed, her back straight in the dim light. I couldn’t see her face, but I felt and heard the note of tension in her voice. “Spike heard you wake up.”
Of course, he did. I touched my sister’s hand; she was trembling. “What’s wrong, Dawnie? Who’s Spike talking to?”
“Some blue god that looks like someone named Fred?” Dawn sounded confused. “She makes me nervous.”
“Illyria. She’s a god shoved in Fred’s body.” Spike had talked about Illyria only a handful of times since we’d been together again. I only knew that the god’s presence had led to Fred’s death. Fred was someone who’d meant a lot to Spike. He said she’d tirelessly worked to help him become corporeal again. Willow had once told me that she thought Fred was pretty, which made me a tiny bit jealous though I’d never actually met Illyria.
Dawn glanced at the door to the bedroom with fear on her face. “Kinda like how Glory and Ben shared a body?”
“Kinda. Only Fred is gone.”
“Gone?”
I chose a better word, “Destroyed, I think.”
She drew closer to me. Her horrified reaction was almost inaudible. “Oh.”
I stroked Dawn’s arm, suddenly realizing what the fear was about. “I don’t think Illyria is interested in your key-ness.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but I wasn’t about to tell my sister that. There was a reason Spike sent my sister in here with me. Spike had said the god has lost her ability to bend time and open portals to other dimensions, but I wasn’t sure if she’d lost her interest in re-attaining either of those abilities.
“And that’s super convincing.” At least, there was sarcasm there.
“Hey. Spike and I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” I sat up a little and moved to slide off the bed. My time on bedrest was mostly up anyway, and the nurse had said it wasn’t a hard and fast rule.
“Where are you going?” Dawn protested. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
I pulled on a pair of fuzzy socks to keep my feet warm. There was an old wives’ tales that said something about warm feet being important for baby stuff working out. “I’m going to find out what’s going on.” I gave Dawn a dose of my best big sister insistence, “Stay here.”
“Trust me. Not going in there again. . . unless you need me.” I heard the sheets rustle as she slid to the ground and rooted around under the bed.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Getting out the weapons.” There was a scraping sound and the creak of a hinge. “Sword?”
Moving gingerly, my hand found the wooden door frame. “Not yet.” I didn’t think any of the weapons Dawn had would do much to Illyria anyway.
“K.”
Squinting into the brighter lamplight of the living room, I smiled at Spike who lounged back on the sofa, seemingly relaxed but with that certain tension in his shoulders that let me know that he was far from nonchalant. He offered me a casual smile.
“Pet, you’re up. This here is Illyria.” He gestured in an almost lackadaisical manner at the lithe figure sitting ramrod straight on the nearby loveseat. “Illyria, this is –”
The god was awkward in her stance as she cocked her head at me. Her long dark hair was streaked with a vibrant blue, and her wide unblinking eyes and pale skin practically glowed in matching alien blueness like the mermaids that Leah sometimes colored in garish colors. Power emanated off the god, power that I hadn’t felt since. . . well, since ever. The energy swirled through the room and pressed into my chest like fingers digging into my ribcage and threatening to break my ribs. All of which was encased in a slender young woman’s form. (Huh. That part was somewhat familiar.) This creature was dangerous, perhaps the most dangerous being I’d ever encountered.
“She is your pet? As you are mine?”
I almost giggled nervously at this unexpected set of phrases coming from her mouth. Spike hadn’t told me that the god king considered him her pet. Instead, I said, “Little different type of pet. I hope.”
“Hardly think I’m your pet anymore, Blue. It’s been a while since we’ve been sparring.” Somehow, there was affection in Spike’s tone. I knew they fought together in the battle in L.A. but nothing about them sparring.
The corner of Illyria’s mouth went down a fraction. Uh oh. “Your timeframe is irrelevant.”
“How so?”
Her intonation unchanging, Illyria said, “The passage of eight human years is meaningless to me.”
Spike regarded her thoughtfully. “I get that.”
“You cannot fathom it, vampire.” She sounded certain.
Spike ignored her jab and addressed me, still with the same underlying tightness to his shoulders. “Illyria came by to check up on us.”
My heart almost skipped a beat. “Why?” And when can she go away?
Illyria fixed her blue gaze on me, her eyes roving over me from head to toe. “The one you call Angel. He sent me to see if it was true.”
Okay. Now, I was pissed. I didn’t care if she was a powerful god from the beginning of time. I crossed my arms and frowned pointedly at her. “See if what was true?”
Illyria sighed, the first human-type thing she’d done. “He is ‘concerned.’”
I hadn’t heard from Angel in years, and he sent a messenger to inquire on Spike and my status like we owe him something? This time, my voice was louder and firmer. “Well, you can tell him that what Spike and I do is of no concern to him.”
Spike didn’t rouse like me, and his manner helped me contain the heat rising in me. “Your ex heard a rumor that we were trying to start a family of our own.” Loved how Spike was lumping Angel with me as if Spike hadn’t spent a century doing things-I-didn’t-want-to-think-too-hard-about all over Europe and other parts of the world with “my ex.”
I focused on Illyria. “Why is he concerned about that anyway? Doesn’t he have his own life to live by now?”
“He is not alive,” Illyria stated. “Yet.” She was reminding me of the robot me with her literalness.
“She’s asking why he wants to know,” Spike clarified.
Illyria was silent for almost too many seconds before she said with surprising insightfulness, “He still cares for your pet. He does not want what happened to his offspring to happen to hers.”
“How does he even know what we’re doing?” I demanded.
“He heard rumblings,” Spike said.
“Rumblings from where?” As soon as I asked, I knew the answer.
Spike confirmed my suspicion. “It appears that our little Grappler demon friend has a big mouth.” He propped his arm on the back of the sofa, trying to appear more comfortable.
I didn’t keep the irony out of my tone. It’d only been two days? “That was hell-a fast.”
“Hell-a fast?” Illyria asked, moving one hand from the edge of the seat cushion to her lap.
Oh god. How did Angel stand it? How had Spike stood it? A wave of protectiveness for the little bundle of cells in my belly made me push back more. “Can you tell him something for me?”
“Yes.” This one was simple and to the point.
“Tell him that if he is so ‘concerned’ about Spike and me starting a family, he can pick up the phone and tell us himself. We’re not him, and what happened to his son isn’t inevitably going to happen to any potential child we might have.” I wasn’t sure if the last statement was meant for Angel, Spike, or myself.
Illyria nodded. “I will tell him. I cannot promise he will listen. He does not often cooperate. It is. . .” she trailed off, stared into space for a bit longer than was comfortable, and then finished with, “frustrating.” At least, the god king knew who she was dealing with. Then, she stood without fanfare and nodded once to Spike. “Goodbye, my pet. It was. . . nice to see you again.” Then, she strode out the front door to Dawn’s apartment with eerily silent determination.
Spike followed her, swinging the door shut behind her to shut out the cold and sliding the locks home. As he did so, I settled back onto the sofa, resuming my bedrest position.
When Spike turned to face me, I asked, “What does this mean? Her showing up at Dawn’s?”
“Dunno, pet. It just means that a good portion of the demon community knows we’re trying to conceive.”
“Great.”
His face softened as he sat sideways next to me. He kissed my temple and took my hand. “You okay?”
I shrugged, feeling suddenly tired and twinge-y again. “I’m fine.”
“Your job is to rest,” he said with a mix of firm and tender.
“For now.”
“For a while,” he insisted, moving his thumb over mine.
I sighed. “I guess we should at least tell Giles about the Grappler and Angel.”
“I will take care of it.”
“Thank you.” I extricated my hand and hugged my arms across my chest. “This is just the start, isn’t it?”
Spike’s eyes were serious. “Afraid so, pet.”
Dawn’s head poked tentatively out from her bedroom, sword raised at the ready. “Is it okay to come out now? Is she gone?”
I addressed my lover and sister, “We should talk about what to do. And did you notice that she wasn’t even wearing a coat? It’s freezing out there!”
34. The morning of the beta test
Tears filled my eyes when the nurse called my name. Spike put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a gentle hug. We were about to do a beta test, a blood test to see if the frozen embryo transfer worked. The test was nine days after the day of the transfer, and I was terrified.
Yesterday, some bright red blood made an appearance on the toilet paper when I went to the bathroom, and it wasn’t from straining though I was so with the constipated (progesterone sucked). My nurse had reassured me and said she had a “really good feeling” about us, but a little nagging bit in the back of my head screamed that bright red blood meant the worst. If baby was growing in my womb, baby was too little for Spike to smell or sense anything different, so he couldn’t really reassure me. All he could smell now were the hormones.
Spike ran the back of his fingers over my upper arm. “Love, it’s going to be okay. It’s just one more step. Remember? One step at a time?”
Blinking so the tears drew back inside, I stared into his earnest blue eyes as he reassured me, and I felt my heart tug with love for him. “One step at a time.” Then, I stood and addressed the nurse who’d summoned us, “Here. I’m Buffy.”
The nurse from the New Orleans clinic led Spike and me down a long hallway and then took a right down a shorter hall to a small waiting area. Other women and couples were crowded together under the fluorescent lights. Anxiety and tension were rolling off everyone. At least, the walls were a soft beige, the leather chairs were comfortable, and the art on the walls made the space less sterile than a typical doctor’s office. The outdated magazines – tabloids for the women and sports magazines for the men – and the adjoining blood draw room were the only things that gave the clinic’s identity away. I vaguely wondered if Spike’s senses were going all haywire smelling all the blood radiating from that direction.
“Wait here, and they’ll draw your blood soon, okay?” the nurse said, already halfway walking away. They were busy today.
“Thank you,” Spike said simply, not giving any indication that he was bothered, and we sat.
We sat and sat and sat some more. Sitting made me more aware of just how sore my bottom was from the IM shots. Plus, this hurry-up-and-wait thing was for the birds, so heedless of the other people waiting, I started a conversation with Spike, collecting his hand in mine and squeezing.
“Are you sure you’re okay with Dawn staying with us?” I whispered.
Dawn was coming to join us as soon as the semester was over. The appearance of Illyria had more than scared my sister – and to be honest, Spike, and we’d discussed her taking one semester of school to be with us. The hiatus was meant to be temporary, just until we understood what was going on. Dawn had already discussed the matter with her academic advisor and thesis chairperson, and both had allowed for the time away. Dawn would be doing some work online from afar.
“Is that even a question?” Spike asked. “She’s your sister.”
I lifted my eyebrows at him. “A sister who hasn’t exactly been nice to you for oh, the last several years.”
“We made up, and she had reason to be.” Spike flinched a little at what happened between us in the bathroom on Revello Drive, even years later.
This time, it was my turn to reassure him. “You know that’s long ago, right? Lots of things have happened between us since then.” Compassion for him spread warmth through my chest. “So many wonderful things.” If not for the group of complete strangers all around us and the awful way I felt with a bloated stomach, sore bottom, and vagina filled with medication (and did I mention constipation?), I’d show him how much I loved him.
He ducked his head. “Yeah. I know. In any case, I’m good with your sis coming. The truth of it is – it’ll be better when she’s here.”
“I agree.” To the casual outside observer who knew about supernatural stuff, Illyria showing up on my sister’s doorstep wouldn’t seem like that big of a deal, but to Spike and me, knowing what we knew about Angel and Illyria, the situation was not to be taken lightly. Maybe asking Dawn to stay with us was extreme, but I’d learned over the years not to dismiss my gut.
Though Spike had offered to call Giles to let him know about Illyria’s appearance, I’d insisted we have the conversation together when we got back to New Orleans. Giles, of course, had been less than reassuring, telling me to rest while at the same time catastrophizing about what could possibly have happened since we hadn’t told him right away. I’d almost retorted that we sorta had other things on our mind like how to get a wheelchair at the airport (Spike had insisted) and how to get through airport security without having to go through the X-ray scanner (just in case), on the off-chance I was actually pregnant or on the way to being pregnant. Luckily, Spike had reminded my Watcher that all we were asking was for someone to do a bit of research to find out if there was anything to what Angel was concerned about. Giles had apologized for his over-the-top reaction and agreed to hit the books and send out feelers into the world even if it felt like searching for a needle in a haystack. He’d also wished us luck with our ventures into possible parenthood, which was nice given he’d rarely sent well wishes Spike’s direction – even after all this time.
I fidgeted and changed the subject. “Do you think I should have tested?”
“No. Remember what you told me about not letting you, pet?” I made him swear on a stack of bibles that he wouldn’t let me take a home pregnancy test.
“Those tests are going to all go to waste.” I’d impulsively bought a package of three tests – the digital kind that said “pregnant” and how far along you were. Not usually one to hang back unless something was important to him, Spike encouraged me to hold off on testing and to wait for the blood test.
He leaned over and nuzzled my ear. “You’ll pee on the little whatnot after today. They won’t go to waste. You’ll confirm the results.”
I nudged him away. “I don’t know how you can be so confident,” I whispered.
He shrugged. “You need me to be.”
With those words, I knew how scared he was, too. Screw listening ears. “I love you.”
He lifted our hands and kissed the back of mine. “Love you.”
“Buffy Summers?” an older woman called from the doorway to the blood draw area.
My stomach dropped. Here we go. The moment of reckoning. I stood but didn’t move. “Here.”
“Come this way.” The woman was gentle and kind, her accent not one I could place, her long grey hair pulled up on the sides, making her seem younger than she was.
I glanced back at Spike, and he lifted an eyebrow at me and smiled gently. Shoring up my Slayer strength, I followed the woman into the small room. Perching on the edge of the black, faux leather seat, I tried not to tremble. Instead, I focused on the woman’s movements as she first studied the orders sheet that said what tests to run (the beta test and tests for progesterone and estrogen) and then efficiently prepared the supplies she needed to draw the blood. The fears that had effectively been dammed with Spike’s presence and the distractions of work and the Angel situation suddenly flooded over me, and tears filled my eyes again, this time spilling hot and fast over my cheeks.
The phlebotomist noticed immediately and set a gentle hand on my right hand which was clutching the stress ball used to help my vein pop out. “What’s wrong, dear?”
I swiped the tears away and sniffled. “I’m just so scared.”
She handed me a tissue, and I noticed that her nametag said, “Siobhan.” “What are you scared of?”
My hand went to my belly, which was only really protruding from the hormones. “I-I had cramps in the middle of the night last night. I-it felt like my period was starting, and I know the hormones won’t let me have my period, but I had some bleeding yesterday, too.”
“A lot of blood?” Siobhan asked, watching me intently.
I shook my head and swallowed. “N-no. Just after I peed.” Talking about bodily functions with complete strangers and not caring at all were all part of the IVF package.
She patted my upper arm. “That, my dear, is very common in fertility treatments. Did your nurse tell you?”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
She gazed at me over the tops of her glasses. “Let’s get your blood drawn.”
I borrowed her strength and straightened my arm up. “Okay.”
She traced her fingers over the crook in my arm, the arm that had gone through so many blood draws that I looked like I was a heroin addict. “You have good veins, hun.”
I sniffed again and smiled. “Thanks.”
Siobhan was efficient and drew my blood with little pain and little mess. Vampires could take some lessons. As I held a cotton ball over the tiny wound, she wrapped my arm to prevent blood from going everywhere. When I stood to leave, I felt a wave of dizziness from the emotion of everything, and Siobhan pulled me into a brief hug.
“We’ll send the results right over. Do something distracting,” she advised. I appreciated that she didn’t reassure me that I was probably pregnant or tell me to relax.
“Thank you again.”
Her blue-grey eyes shining, she smiled at me, and I wondered if I’d see her again. “You’re welcome.”
Then, I reunited with Spike who gazed at me tenderly, laced his fingers with mine and led me toward the exit without saying a word.
35. The evening of the beta test
My phone was set on vibrate for any texts or calls, and every single time it vibrated, I jumped ten feet in the air. Well, not literally ten feet, but enough to make some of the customers give me side eye. At least, I was working with Crystal today and not Roger. I didn’t know what I’d do if he was working with me. Probably punch him, which would be very bad. Well, very bad for Roger.
After my latest twitchy moment, Crystal finished rinsing her milk steamer and nudged me with her shoulder. “You okay, Buff?”
“Yeah.” I pulled my phone out of my apron pocket. The message on the screen was from a group text with Willow and Xander. They were wishing me luck. Part of me wished they didn’t know about the beta today, and part of me was grateful that they did. “Just lots of texts.”
“No phone call yet?” She asked picking up a crumb-filled plate that someone had brought to the counter.
I shook my head and did a little antsy foot shuffle that I tried to hide by straightening the stack of New Orleans nightlife magazines nearby. “No.” And it was making me really want to go out and kill something. A dusty vampire or two would do the trick. Only problem was it was daytime, and Spike had laid down a strict no-slaying rule. Damn it.
Crystal looked me up and down with an evaluative expression on her face as she flipped on the sink faucet to wash the dish. “You look like you’re about to come out of your skin.”
I made a desperate face. “I think I might.”
“Why don’t you take off a few minutes early and go for a walk around the Quarter? Grab some dinner. You haven’t taken a lunch break today.”
She was right. I’d had a snack at the beginning of my shift, but now, my nervous stomach was growling angrily at me, demanding nourishment. “You sure?”
“Very sure.” She pulled me into a brief hug, and I felt my body relax a fraction at her touch.
I grinned and started untying my apron, making sure to palm my phone. “Thanks.”
Only when I was out on the street did I realize that she hadn’t asked me to let her know what happened like everyone else seemed to be doing. That one small gesture made me feel more cared for than she knew.
The evening air was getting cooler as the sun was starting to set, and there were several people bustling around. Locals were headed home from work, and tourists were dressed up and setting foot outside their hotel rooms, eager for a night out on the town. Musicians were warming up for an evening gig on the street corner, and I let the sound of the joyful saxophone wash over me. The humidity even felt decently tolerable, and I already felt a little freer and lighter. Not giving much thought to where I was headed, my feet made the decision for me, leading me toward Frenchman Street. On the way, I picked up a po-boy at a local hole in the wall restaurant that served a mean roast beef with debris. As I resumed my journey, I slung the warm plastic bag along as I walked.
Several minutes later, I found myself standing in front of the Spotted Cat with my hands in my jacket pockets, the food attached to my wrist. Spike wasn’t here yet; his shift was later, but I could see Alex at the bar, so I wandered inside, scanning the room for smokers. No one yet, so I could stay for a bit. I slid onto the bar seat and waited for Alex to notice me.
Even though her back was turned, she knew someone was there, probably out of some bartender instinct, and she slid a glass of water in front of me. Then, she propped her elbows on the bar and tilted her head into her hands. The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled at me. “Hey, there, Miss Green Eyes. You’re here early. That man of yours doesn’t start for another hour or so.” Spike’s shift started once the sky was dark.
“I know.” I shrugged, taking a sip of water. “Thought I’d wait for him. Mind if I eat my sandwich?”
She blinked at me as if trying to figure something out. “Go right ahead. Want me to fix your drink?” She’d labelled my drink the “Buffy special.”
If the beta was negative, I’d take her up on it. “No. But thanks.” Ignoring the anxious roll in my stomach, I used the plastic fork and forced myself to take a bite of the roast beef goodness. The French bread was saturated with gravy that exploded in a burst of flavor on my tongue.
Alex turned her back to me and began sorting bottles of alcohol, grouping like with like. “Everything good between you two?”
Her question startled me, and I swallowed. “More than. Why?” Had she noticed something I hadn’t given how consumed we’d been with baby making?
Alex counted, muttering herself, and then said, “He just seems distracted the last couple of weeks, and more than I’d expect given that you went on vacation last week. Where’d y’all go? Denver?”
“Uh huh.” I took another drink. Spike hadn’t said anything, but I knew he wasn’t sharing everything with me because he was trying to take care of me. He’d all but said so himself earlier today. “Has he said anything?”
Alex glanced over her shoulder to give me an it’s-so-obvious look. “Sweetheart, he doesn’t have to. He doesn’t exactly hide his feelings very well.” This was true. Which meant that Spike doing so with me required a lot of effort.
I opened my mouth, unsure of how I was going to respond to her observation when my phone vibrated in my pocket. There was the waited-for-dreaded 303 area code. Heart suddenly thundering in my ears, I swiped right and brought the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Buffy?” I could hardly hear her I was so anxious, but I recognized Elaine’s voice right away.
“This is she.”
“This is Elaine calling from Lone Tree.”
“I-I know.”
“Take a deep breath.” She took a deep breath of her own to encourage me. “Your beta came back at 256. We like to see betas of at least 50, so you’re officially one month pregnant.”
“Oh my god. Really?” Tears filled my eyes, and I grinned like a fool. Alex probably thought I was crazy as I jumped off the bar stool and paced a little.
“Really.” She was firm in her certainty.
“Oh my god. I can’t believe it. I’m so excited!”
“I had a feeling you would be. . . pregnant and excited. You should be! Okay. Here’s what you’ll do next.” Elaine proceeded to tell me the levels of estrogen and progesterone from my blood work and to give me directions for the PIO shots, the patches, and the vaginal estrace and endometrin. “And then, you’ll go back to your local doctor in two days for more blood work. It’ll be for a second beta and a repeat of the estrogen and progesterone levels.”
I couldn’t think of any of the questions I’d thought about earlier, so I asked, “You like to see the beta double, right?”
“Sort of. We look for at least a 50 percent increase.”
I nodded though she couldn’t see me. “Okay.”
“But for now, try not to worry about that, and enjoy your good news!” She sounded so thrilled.
“I can’t wait to tell Spike!” And I couldn’t.
Elaine laughed. “I bet! Anymore questions?”
“Not for now. I’m sure I’ll be calling you though if I do.”
“I’ll be here,” she assured me. “I’m sending over the orders for the next round of bloodwork, so check the portal. If you don’t get it, send me a message. Talk with you soon!”
“Sounds good. Thank you!” I hung up and looked up to find Alex watching me with a bemused expression on her face.
“You have some happy news. Something special.” Her words were statements, not questions.
I nodded. “Yeah, but I have to – ”
Alex picked up a towel and started shining a glass that didn’t need polishing. “No, don’t say anything because you have to tell him first.”
Grinning, I was grateful that she understood. “I do.”
“Well, you can tell him in just a sec.” She lifted her chin just slightly toward the door to the bar.
I glanced out the window to see that the world outside was dark and that Spike was striding to the door, looking lost in his own thoughts. As soon as he pushed open the door, he saw me. His brow furrowed, worry immediately filling his features. “Pet? What’re you – ”
He let out a big oof as I slammed into him, my arms going around his waist. I buried my face in his chest, snuggling my cheek against the soft cotton of his t-shirt and inhaling his familiar scent. “Guess what!”
Gently taking me by the shoulders, he pushed me back. “What?” His blue eyes – those precious windows to his soul even when he was soulless – swirled with fear, hope, and love.
I couldn’t be too exuberant, not when he looked at me like that, so I ran my fingertips over his cheek. “You’re going to be a Daddy.”
He blinked at me as if he wasn’t sure what I was saying was real. “I am?” I softly kissed his lips, which were hanging open, and he briefly kissed me back before pulling away again. “I am?”
This time, I beamed. “You are.”
He drew me up into a tight embrace, tucking his face in my neck, and I felt his tears against my skin. When I emitted a little squeak at just how close he was holding me, he let go and stepped back, his hands on my elbows. “Sorry.”
I laughed. “It’s okay.” Then, the anxiety came back. “Of course, we have to get past the second beta test, and then, the six-and-a-half-week ultrasound, and the first trimester.” This was given that nothing untoward and nothing supernatural happened.
“Then, we’ll be in the clear?”
“I think so, yes. For the most part.”
He studied my face. “How are you feeling?”
I sighed. “Fine. And if you keep asking me that too much, it’s going to get old really fast.”
He ignored me. “Should you even be in here with all the smoke?”
I gestured at the empty bar. “No one is here, so no one is smoking.”
“What about third-hand smoke? The walls are saturated with the stuff.”
“To a vampire.”
He caught my lifted eyebrows, and his shoulders slumped a fraction. “I’m being overprotective.”
“Just a little bit,” I teased, taking his hand in mine and tugging him forward. “C’mon. Sit with me while I finish my po’boy.”
“Okay, love. Then, you’re going home to rest,” he said sternly.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Sing me a new tune.”
“And you’re taking the car.”
“How will you get home?”
“I’ll catch a cab.” I so could not picture Spike in a cab though he did live in New York City for a long while, so maybe there was cab-taking? Then, he grinned as if he’d won the lottery, interrupting my musings about his days as an evil vampire in the Big Apple. “We’re having a baby.” Then, he shouted, “Hey, Alex, we’re having a baby!”