I'd like to thank everyone that reviewed that last chapter and especially those of you who de-lurked to bring a smile to my face. I don't think you understand how much that helped. In any case, I don't think I can convey it anyway. Thank you all.
[A/N: Updates are going to be a bit slower and I’m not so happy about that, but I just can’t do anymore than I am. The pain has not decreased any, so its very hard for me to spend lots of time writing/typing. Please bare with me on this. I promise I won’t keep you waiting too long, but it really depends on the pain. That being said, for those of you that keep asking about whether or not I have more stories out there – I am working on getting my original fiction back up on the web. Hopefully that will be sometime soon. Title is from Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Montaigne; or, the Skeptic” and the quotes are as attributed. Disclaimers in full force and effect]
Previously: Willow saw Tara and Oz together; Giles is working diligently in London; supplies are all gotten and Spike has answered Buffy’s question. This follows shortly after the last chapter.
Book Two, Chapter 13. Half a dozen reasonable hours..
Clouds now and again
give a soul some respite from
moon-gazing – behold.
Matsuo Basho, untitled haiku
Reason, the prized reality, the Law, is apprehended, now and then,
for a serene and profound moment, amidst the hubbub of cares and
Works which have no direct bearing on it;
Miss then lost, for months or years, and again found,
for an interval, to be lost again.
If we compute it in time, we may, in fifty years,
have half a dozen reasonable hours.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
They were still unloading the supplies from the van when Xander and Anya pulled up to the curb. Knowing they hadn’t told Anya the entire story – what had caused Angel to lose his soul or why Wesley had sought shelter in Sunnydale or why Spike and Buffy hadn’t been the ones to warn Anya – really, they hadn’t told her much of anything, they all braced for an epic outburst.
“Hey guys, what’s up?” Xander got out of the car and walked to where the van was in the driveway.
“Xander.” Wesley stuck his hand out while shifting bags with the other.
They shook and Xander reached out to help him. “Need a hand?”
“If you wouldn’t mind?” Gesturing toward the back of the van, Wesley continued, “there’s still more there. You don’t mind do you?”
“Nope. This is easy stuff.” Moving as he spoke, Xander didn’t hesitate to grab the bags, not realizing what was in them.
Anya had gone right into the house, trailing after the girls, for once lost in her own thoughts. She really wasn’t sure what was going on with her and Xander.
Dawn was emptying the grocery bags, putting everything away, while Tara sorted through the baby things, getting bottles and nipples boiling and gathering up the clothing so that it could all be washed before they got him dressed.
Oz was carrying the box containing the small crib up the stairs when Anya realized what the majority of the supplies were. “What’s all this stuff for?”
Both of the other girls froze sharing a look.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Neither one of them had moved in the long minutes after his promise not to kill Xander, content to just be together. Buffy was so grateful that he was here with her that she finally had nothing more to say. Everything that she could say had been said.
Spike was thinking much along the same lines; except he would be content to stay like this, here with her for the rest of their days. Which would be a very long time from today. He wasn’t going to . . . he was going to see to it that she lived a very long life and when she finally died of a very old ancient age, he was going to go with her. They’d face that together. And maybe, just maybe, he’d be granted a gift. . . . but he wasn’t going to bank on that . . . Spike just wanted here and now. After could take care of itself.
His morbid train of thoughts was halted when there was a knock on the door. “Company love.”
Grumbling slightly, Buffy got up and opened the door to find Oz standing there a huge flat box in his hands. “Whatcha got there?”
“Baby crib.” Trying to shrug, he ended up dropping one end, narrowly missing their feet. “Not sure where to put it.”
Sharing a look with Spike, Buffy motioned him in. “Best place is probably here.”
There wasn’t much room, but Buffy looked around, trying to find a good location for the crib. Spike pointed a finger at the corner by the window. “Put him there for now.”
While they were working, Oz said, “ran into Willow at the market.”
As the other two shared a look, he continued, “something’s not right. Got a whiff of something . . . “ he shrugged. “Tara might know more.”
“She saw you two together?” Buffy stared at Oz while Spike waited for his answer.
“Yeah. She got all flustered.” He reached for a slat, “think she jumped to a weird conclusion.”
Spike laughed, “gave Red somethin’ to think about?”
“Yeah.” Turning his attention back to the crib, Oz didn’t catch the looks passing between the couple.
Buffy was confused. “But you’re just friends, right?”
“Yeah.”
She stared at him for a few more minutes, but Oz didn’t say anything else.
Between the slayer and the werewolf by the time Xander and Wesley had finished unloading everything else from the van, they had the crib set up and ready for the baby.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
it was long past midnight, but Rupert wasn’t ready to return to his hotel. There was still so much to be done and his time here in London, must, as a necessity, be short. Too much going on back home in Sunnydale for him to comfortably stay here.
Were we never going to get a break? Just once, Rupert thought, could we forego a weekly crisis? Seemed like it always happened like this. Whenever there was a lull, it never meant a cessation, it was merely the hellmouth taking a time out.
Maybe it was time to think about closing the hellmouth.
Rupert shook off that thought, realizing it was not now the time, because the research on that alone would take far more time than he currently had. Right then, gaffer, back to the matter at hand.
Vampire pregnancies – found; sidebar to demon-friendly neurosurgeons, found. Housing and/or living expenses for the Slayer - he’d presented that proposal to Travers more than two days ago, the day after his arrival. The senior staffers were discussing the matter, they’d have an answer for him by Tuesday. Which was good, because he’d just made up his mind to depart for home on Wednesday. With or without all the information he needed.
So far the Council archives had yielded little information about the monks. He was beginning to believe that omission wasn’t the result of ignorance or even a case of misplaced records. Truth was, the journals were missing and quite possibly deliberately so. The monks had already proven to him, through their own journals that they were more than adequate sorcerers and they had, up until very recently, controlled an inter-dimensional Key. Perhaps, in their spare time they’d figured out time travel.
A very real rational part of him was able to dismiss that notion almost outright. Problem was another equally rational part believed it was entirely possible. Which presented its own set of problems.
If, in fact, the monks could do so, then Giles had to wonder how much of their “history” was real and not constructed. He also had no way of verifying whether or not they were even humans that originated in the dimension they currently inhabited. Giles realized with a start that all of this was pure conjecture on his part and, at the moment, counter-productive with regard to his search. And it would be time wasted that he needed to focus elsewhere.
The monks were, at the moment, a lost cause. But quite possibly more information was contained in the monks journals.
Right. Wasn’t there something else? Giles fought the fatigue but was forced to concede to it when he found himself reading the same paragraph for a third time.
Pack it in for the night old man. Gathering up his books and replacing them on the shelves, Giles made his way out into the waning hours of the London night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The baby was asleep and Spike was drifting off after another dose of morphine and some other than Buffy blood. They were both on the bed, the baby on his belly and Spike flat on his back. They are, she thought watching them settle in, adorable. Spike’s chest was rising and falling needlessly. She wondered if maybe he did this because he was still in pain and unable to hide it in sleep.
Brushing a kiss across his forehead, then doing it again for good measure, Buffy smiled. It was getting harder and harder to fight her feelings. And really, why should she be putting so much energy into fighting the feelings? Wasn’t like there was something to hide – and if she were being truthful about this, she was pretty much in love with him anyway, so why couldn’t she tell him that? Well, that wasn’t entirely true either. Because earlier, when they were talking – she had told him how she was feeling. She just hadn’t said those three words. Maybe she could just – build up to them. Practice saying them. Sort of like memorizing something for school. . . like MacBeth’s speech. . or a poem for English. Yeah. That’s what she’d do. Leaning over him one more time, Buffy brushed a third kiss on his forehead, whispering very softly “I love you Spike.”
Reluctantly heading for the door, Buffy never saw the slight smile cross Spike’s face, nor the hitch in his breathing as she left the bedroom.
On her way to the stairs, Buffy was hoping there was something ready to eat. She was tired and hungry and really not looking forward to all the questions and problems.
Stopping at the landing, Buffy very nearly went back up into the bedroom. That room was . . . sanctuary. Safe.
Numerous voices sounded from the kitchen and she could hear Dawn and Tara talking, Wesley’s voice and Xander. When did Xander get here? Is Anya with him? Hesitating once more, Buffy stood indecisively on the stairs, half turned back to the bedroom. She was poised to do just that when Xander’s voice caught her attention.
“Hey Buffster, how are ya?” Xander looked up at her from the bottom of the stairs.
Blowing out a breath, Buffy said hello, then headed down toward him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Humans were ridiculously easy to kill. He’d forgotten that fact and the fact that they were, as a whole, pretty trusting, which just made things all the easier for him. It was full dark now and he’d already drained two. Nothing compared to the taste of human blood right from the source. Fresh blood zinging through his veins, Angel stalked through the streets of Los Angeles, heading straight for the Hyperion, for some insane reason. He really didn’t know why he was heading this way. There was probably nothing there for him.
Wesley wasn’t stupid, neither was Cordelia and it was more than likely they’d gone undergound and were now hiding. Even so, he needed a few things from there – clean clothes and . . . son of a bitch. Wesley had his car.
He need to get himself some wheels. Jumping from building to building was fun, but really, it wasn’t like this was London or Paris where in the older sections the buildings were closer together, no this was LA, where the buildings were artfully designed with space in between them and, really, he needed a set of wheels. Watching the street, Angelus started picking out the kind of car he wanted. Something flashy . . . something. . . and hey, this was Los Angeles . . flashy was de rigeur . . .
Spying a Viper stopped at a light, Angelus smiled. Yeah. A Viper would do. Sprinting toward it, Angel smiled again. It wasn’t pretty.
Killing was simple.
Killing was easy.
And he was really going to enjoy destroying everyone’s lives – stripping away everything dear to them first. Filling his mind with how and who and when, Angel pressed the accelerator of his newly acquired ride.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Figuring everyone was hungry and knowing it was going to be an early night, Tara hastily got pasta and sauce going after starting a load of baby laundry. Bottles and nipples were sterilizing away on the back burner and Dawn was chopping vegetables while Anya roved about. She and Dawn had asked Anya to wait until Wesley and Buffy were in the kitchen before they told her and Xander everything.
Once the supplies had all be unloaded, Wesley had headed right for the shower, since he was now working on three days in the same clothing and he really needed to be clean.
She heard Xander call up to Buffy, while Oz was coming in the back door. “Everything’s secure.”
Anya’s ears perked up and she knew something very serious was going on – perhaps even more serious than just Angelus being on the loose.
Xander preceded Buffy into the kitchen and it was fairly obvious that the Slayer wasn’t happy. Whether it was the situation or just the fact she would rather be hovering over Spike, Tara had no idea. But she kind of guessed that if it were her lover upstairs near death, she’d want to be close, damn all other responsibilities.
“He sleeping?” Tara looked up from making sauce to catch Buffy’s eye.
“Yeah. He’s exhausted.”
“Buffy?” Dawn stopped what she was doing to watch her sister. When the older Summers girl looked up, Dawn asked, “how is he?”
Her smile was genuine, but still very tired, “better. He says the headache is gone and he’s talking so his jaw is much better. Says the ribs are healed and that he’s all itchy.”
Shrugging a bit, she snagged some of the vegetables that were on the counter, “I’m so hungry.”
The other two girls shared a look when Xander snarked, “what happened to the bleached wonder?”
Again it was Tara that answered, but halfway into the story, Buffy started speaking. “He saved Dawnie from the Knights of Byzantium last night. He . . . “ she paused, trying to swallow her tears, “he took. . . he got badly beaten for Dawnie. Again.”
‘What? I thought the knights went buh-bye when the portal got closed and we beat Glory? How come they’re back?”
“Not sure Xander. Don’t really know why we thought Dawn’s danger stopped with Glory. Just because that skanky hellbitch is gone doesn’t mean someone else won’t try to open up another doorway using Dawn.” The fatigue was evident in Buffy’s voice.
Dawn’s hand was clenching and unclenching around the knife, a muscle in her cheek jumping. If anyone were to look closely at her, the resemblance to her real father was remarkable – but no one noticed.
Anya caught her hand, releasing the knife. “Let me Dawn.”
“This isn’t good, Buffy. What does Giles say about all this?” Xander leaned back against the refrigerator, his arms crossed.
Before anyone could answer Xander’s question, Anya’s voice filled the silence. “What about Angelus? Wesley didn’t tell me anything. And how did Giles know all about this?”
Wesley’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and the now familiar sounds of a wailing infant accompanied him. Fumbling apologetically, Wesley said, “Spike’s awake again.”
Anya gaped at the infant in Wesley’s arms while Xander said “whoa! What the hell is that?”
Throwing an exasperated look at Xander, Buffy reached for the baby, rescuing Wesley. “That is just what it looks like, Xander. It’s a baby.”
“Sounds like gas. Try rubbing his back.” Tara glanced over at Buffy, noting she’d already thought of that. Sniffing a bit, Buffy said, “he needs a change of clothes too.”
Grabbing the diapers and wipes, she headed for the living room.
“Who’s baby is that?” Anya’s voice was quiet yet strangely wavering.
Buffy’s voice wafted in from the other room, “your turn Wes.”
“Yes. Well. Its . . um.” Wes hesitated, clearly at a loss. “Connor is well, he’s the child of Darla and Angel.”
Buffy’s muted, “so he does have a name,” was completely over looked because of the clamoring in the kitchen.
“What!” Xander’s outburst rang through the house. “That’s not possible. Vampire’s can’t . . . . and wait! Darla was dusted years ago.”
“She was mystically resurrected by Wolfram & Hart, who represent many of, well, they are lawyers and” Wesley was trying to explain when Anya interrupted him.
“They represent demon clients and very unscrupulous humans. Wolfram & Hart are a force to be reckoned with and they have offices all over this world and quite a few in other dimensions as well.”
“Impressive people.” Oz had been quiet up until then.
“You have no idea. Their resources are endless. And their influence is immeasurable.” Wesley had gained his equilibrium continuing, “how they managed to resurrect Darla I’m not entirely certain, but the means appear to be quite different from Buffy’s case.”
“You’re sure of that?” Buffy came back into the kitchen, handed the baby off to Wesley, threw out the diaper and headed for the sink to wash her hands.
“Reasonably. I know they used something called the Urn of Osiris, but beyond that I’ve not been completely able to discern.”
Standing by the sink, the water still running, Buffy turned to look at Wesley. “You mean to tell me there’s more than one way to resurrect someone?”
His answer was stark and chilling. “Yes.”
Turning back to the water, Buffy muttered something under her breath that no one heard fully.
“That still doesn’t explain the baby.” Xander’s brain was reeling. This was all so. . . so far beyond what he’d come to expect as normal that he didn’t know what to say.
“Angel and Darla had relations. More than once.” Looking down at the baby in his arms, Wesley said, “Darla left Los Angeles for a while and when she returned she was heavily pregnant. Connor was born last night. Darla . . . I believe Darla was deeply affected by the baby’s soul. She didn’t want to, she didn’t want to forget that she loved him. She staked herself so that she wouldn’t harm him after his birth.”
Buffy hadn’t known this and found herself strangely moved by Darla’s decision.
“That must have been hard.” Tara’s soft tones broke the silence and at Wesley’s nod she took the baby from him. “So Darla sacrificed herself for the baby.”
“She did.”
“But how did Angel do that? I thought vampire’s couldn’t have babies.” Dawn’s tone was curious.
Wesley and Buffy shared a look, each uncertain but for different reasons, about sharing Angel’s theory. But Anya’s next words took the option of keeping silent from them.
“Because they can have babies. It takes a certain set of circumstances, mystical return from death and an intense relationship between the recently undead woman and a male vampire and then the stork comes.” Anya looked around at everyone, smiling brightly, “I knew this girl once who fell in love with a vampire. She was killed and he forced some witch to bring her back and the next thing you knew – she was pregnant.”
All eyes shifted from Connor to Buffy, who held up her hands. “No. . . um. . nope.”
Not that I don’t want to be. . .I’m just not. Yet. Maybe.
Dawn sighed a little but kept silent, because what she wanted to do was yell hooray because if that meant Buffy could get pregnant – that meant she might someday have real-honest-to-god siblings.
Xander on the other hand was freaking out. ‘This is not good. We don’t know what this kid will be like – he could be a bloodsucker, he could be an evil little demon. So not good.”
“We don’t know enough Xander, none of us can tell yet what these babies are going to be like.” No one but Tara caught Buffy’s slip of the tongue, but the witch didn’t point it out.
“Spike says it doesn’t matter where you come from, only what you do with the present and future that matter.” Dawn piped in with her comment.
“Right and he would say that because he doesn’t want anyone looking too closely at his past.”
“Really? Sounds like a positive outlook to me, makes sense actually.” Wesley was shaking his head in agreement.
“Spike’s not the only one who has to worry about a past. I was a vengeance demon for over a thousand years, Xander. There’s lots of stuff I did.”
“That’s different, Ahn. You have a soul now. You’re human.” Xander shrugged off her past.
With an apologetic smile at Anya, Tara said, “so its okay because she’s human now, but its not okay for Spike because he’s still a vampire?” She paused for a moment, waiting to see if Xander would try and defend himself “ Even with all the good things he’s been doing – none of that matters?”
“He doesn’t have a soul. He’s not going to keep this up. All he has is a chip that keeps him from killing everyone.”
“So Spike couldn’t go out and get minions to do all his dirty work? Couldn’t set up situations where all of us die?” Buffy was getting more and more angry with his attitude.
“Well, I guess he could do those things.” Xander didn’t want to concede the point.
“Right. So?” And Buffy’s further comment was forestalled by the sound of the doorbell.
It had them all confused until Buffy moved toward the door first. She wasn’t really prepared for the sight before her. Her face broke out in a smile and a giggle slipped past her lips. The “c’mon in” she half-laughed while trying to get out a “Dawn” was impossible.
Still laughing, she motioned the figure to follow her.
“Dawn?”
The teenager picked up her head and gasped out a surprised “Casey?”
She wasn’t sure it was him, because all she could see was a hand and a pair of legs. His voice sounded from behind the fistful of balloons. “Hey Dawn.”
“Casey?” Dawn got up from her chair and circled round the balloons.
What had Buffy laughing so hard was the assortment of balloons. They were mostly mylars – and there were ‘over-the-hills’, ‘get-well-soons’, ‘happy-birthdays’ and ‘congratulations it’s a girl’ and Buffy pointed at them, nudging Tara.
The two girls were smiling and Tara whispered, “why don’t you take a couple up to Spike. Dinner won’t be ready for a bit.”
Dawn must’ve had the same thought, because she took the balloons from Casey, explaining to him that Spike had gotten hurt and he was upstairs in bed. Handing off the balloons to her sister, Dawn steered Casey out into the backyard where there weren’t so many prying eyes.
Kind of nervous about this one. Please let me know what you think about it. Slainte, Nia
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