The Road Not Taken

Part One : No Questions Asked

Giles stared, open-mouthed. All the ancient lore at his disposal, all his long years of experience in all things supernatural, even the four tension-fraught years he'd been practically a father to Buffy could never have prepared him to face this exceptional circumstance.

"Giles, did you hear me?" Buffy prompted at his lack of response. "I said, 'I'm pregnant'."

The Slayer sat in a comfy sofa opposite him, arms folded as if in readiness to argue. The torrent of questions and accusations of irresponsibility she doubtless expected from her Watcher did not even frame themselves in Giles' mind.

This was unprecedented. Vampire Slayers, as a rule, did not usually survive past their twenties, never mind settle down with families and raise children!

"Do you think he's had a stroke?" Willow's voice held a note of concern as she left Buffy's side to wave a hand experimentally in front of Giles' eyes. It did the trick.

"Erm, well then…" Giles took off his glasses with one hand as the other smoothly whipped out the little cloth which was as much a security blanket as a vision accessory. As he frowned and polished, he stood and went to his little kitchenette where a bottle of twelve year-old scotch stood ready.

He swiftly poured and drank, then refilled his glass and with a deep breath turned to face his young charge. Willow sat beside Buffy, obviously already aware of the situation and here for moral support. Buffy sat up a little straighter and held up a hand to stay the expected interrogation.

"Look, before you go all Spanish Inquisition on me, I just wanted you to know that… well that I am, not how or by who, okay?" Giles confusion redoubled. At his baffled expression she continued hastily, "It's a secret, an important one. Safety-of-the-world-important, get it?"

Giles was truly stumped by that. Of course he wanted answers to all those most fundamental questions, but since Buffy's intuitions about impending doom usually proved correct, his interest was even more piqued by this cryptic claim.

"I didn't realise the world was in immediate danger. Any more than normal, that is."

"Well it is, just trust me on that, okay." She stood to go but was stopped by Giles' raised hand.

"Erm, do you mind? I apologise if I seem a little disorganised but I'd prefer it if you would stay and talk about this!"

"And that's exactly why I've gotta go! I can't answer your questions yet!" Buffy's tone was firm, but she softened, "Giles, just… do what you do best: hit the books."

"The books?"

"Yeah. You're looking for a demon named… oh, crap, what was it? Begins with an 'A'… Never mind the name, but he's a major league player, and on his way here to paint the town red. Not sure about the date though, so look for signs, omens, that kinda stuff."

"And you know all this because…?" Giles prompted.

"Slayer-sense. Again, you gotta--"

"Trust you. Right then."

Buffy left with Willow trailing behind, noticing out of the corner of her eye how Giles reached for the scotch again.

"He should go easy on that stuff," she remarked to Willow, "What good's an alcoholic Watcher?"

"Well you've kinda dropped a bomb on him, and, um, on all of us really," Willow mumbled, "You gotta admit it's a pretty big thing to take on faith."

"Faith! That's it!" Buffy's eyes lit up in triumph as she grabbed her cell-phone.

Willow's expression grew even more baffled.

"Listen I've gotta set up some stuff. Come round my place later?"

Willow huffed her resignation softly. "Sure."

"And bring Xander!" Buffy called after Willow's retreating form. She watched her best friend walk off down the street, wishing there were a better way to handle this. Willow had been an absolute rock since yesterday morning when she learned of Buffy's extraordinary situation. She had promised to ask no questions and kept to it, even going so far as to firmly deflect the many flustered pleas for information that Xander had thrust at her. She knew it was going to be hard on them, but she knew that their reactions to what was about to happen must be genuine, unplanned. She'd seen Back to the Future enough times to grasp that.

Absorbed in her thoughts, she was almost at her front door before she realised something was amiss. The door was very slightly ajar. The kitchen light was on. Pulling a stake from her jacket, she entered the house in silence, stalking through to the kitchen focused and ready to fight.

"And what's with these curtains? Who has puppy dogs on their drapes, besides an eight year old?"

I know that voice… thought Buffy. "Cordelia?!"

Cordy let out a small scream which immediately launched into a rant about sneaking up on people, but Buffy's eyes had already moved to the other side of the room, and her heart skipped a beat.

"Buffy," Angel's dead-pan greeting instantly told Buffy that he already knew of her situation. This was going to be difficult.

"What are you--" she began.

"'Angel Investigations - we help the hopeless'", Cordelia chimed in, her cheery tone oozing scarcasm, "And from what I've seen, you totally fit the bill."

"We're here to help." Angel reiterated, still flat and cold.

"More visions?" Buffy gave up and turned to Cordelia.

"Uh-huh, and I gotta say I'm surprised at you Buffy! People always said I would be the one who ran off with some guy and got knocked up, but no--"

"Cordy." Angel silenced her with a look, and thankfully she took the hint.

"Okay! Well, you two have plenty of seriously awkward catching up to do, so I'm gonna go look up my father. Seems he's got a little place on the hill, south-facing, very nice. Laters." She slid out of the kitchen and Buffy heard the click as the front door closed.

Buffy pulled up a stool and sat down at the counter with a heavy sigh. "Shall we go through the pleasantries or just get straight to the glaringly obvious?"

"I'm here to protect you, that's all."

"You're not going to ask--"

"Cordelia had a vision, which means you're in danger. Could be some vampire sect knows you're pregnant and wants to kill you while you're weakened, or demons who want to steal your kid, whatever. I'll be here to stop 'em. The Powers That Be don't send visions of things I might wanna go ask about."

After all her repeated pleas for her friends to put a rein on their curiosity, she felt suddenly hurt that Angel showed no sign of caring how she came to be pregnant. Her mind flew back to that heartbreaking night in the sewer when he had told her she deserved to be with someone who could give her children. It was the very thing which shattered the most intense and devoted relationship she'd ever had. His decision, she reminded herself, he left me.

Like that mattered anymore. It was in the past, and right now it took all her willpower not to melt into his arms, to beat down the wall he'd thrown up to protect himself and her from further pain. He was acting like a jerk, but she couldn't blame him. So had she. She had stood in his office in LA a few months ago and ranted about how she had a new boyfriend, intending to hurt him, just a petty revenge. As sorry as she felt about that now, as much as she wanted to tell him that all should be forgiven and forgotten between them and beg him to hold her again, she firmly told herself she could not. Here, in this time, they were technically still on bad terms.

"Look, I've got to get some sleep. I've been up for… days." She moaned.

He nodded his agreement. "You're safe here for the moment. I'll go see if my old place is still habitable." Without another word he walked out.

Buffy dropped her head into her hands briefly and then heaved herself from the kitchen stool and wearily trudged up the stairs.

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End Of Part One