Chapter 2
Laughing at a smiling Brady, Buffy put her lips to her sons' stomach and blew, making the baby giggle with laughter at the raspberry tickled his thin skin. He was still so tiny, she thought, but he was very strong. His kicks hurt her hands. His eyes stayed open for most of the time he was awake and his coos and grunts seemed to Buffy to actually mean something lately. In only a week, her baby had grown into a new being.
Lifting Brady into her arms, she held him against her shoulder as she made her way out of the nursery and downstairs to the living room. An exhausted Angel was sitting on the couch, barely awake, a precariously held drink in his hands. Hearing her approach, he tried to rouse himself. He had taken a week off to spend time with Buffy and his new son, Will had taken over as President in his absence. It was now Sunday, almost exactly seven days after Brady's birth, and Angel knew he would have to return to the office the next day.
Excepting his son into his arms, he cuddled the baby to him as Buffy started breakfast. It had been Angel's turn to get up with Brady in the night; Buffy had started using a contraption Angel preferred not to think about to pump the natural milk her body made into the bottles he could use to feed Brady. She had told Angel that there was no way she was going to be the only one feeding the baby every two hours.
Kissing his son, he looked at the beautiful baby boy and smiled. Closing his eyes, he held his son on his shoulder and tried to fall asleep for a few moments. Brady's gurgling made him give up on that idea. Rising from the couch, he went into the kitchen and sat down at the table.
"You know we never use the dining room?"
"We're never that formal," Angel responded.
Shrugging, Buffy set bowls of fruit on the table and went back to finish scrambling the eggs. After setting three places she took Brady from Angel and put the infant in his high-chair. The high-chair had been a gift from Connor, it was adjustable for babies from birth to three years, and he had thought the camouflage motif was perfect for Brady.
Looking at Angel briefly, she turned back to her plate and ate a few bites of her eggs and a piece of melon before looking up again. He seemed pretty focused on whatever he was reading in the newspaper, she thought.
"Anything interesting?"
"Stock market's doing well. I wanted to check on some investments."
"Oh." Pushing the eggs around on her plate, she looked up again at him and took a deep breath before speaking. "So, I don't want to pressure you or anything, but when are we getting married?"
Yawning, he looked up from the paper, folded it, and pushed it away. "When do you want to?"
"Now? Is now good for you?"
Laughing, he smiled at her, reaching over the table to take her hand. "What do you want? Do you want the church thing? Do you want an outdoor wedding? Tell me what you want and we'll try to make it happen."
Thinking for a few moments, she tried to explain what she had been thinking about for the past few months, "I want it outdoors. On the beach. I want to be barefoot and there should be a trellis with roses behind us. And it should be small. I don't want to invite people I don't like or that you work with. Just family. It's almost September, so I think we should do this before it gets too cold."
Nodding, he squeezed her hand. "We can do that. What do you want me to do? Don't put me in charge of anything related to flowers or colors or anything. That's your job I hope. I can find a location, though, if you want me to."
"Well, I think it should be a small party. No big reception, just our family, and we can go to dinner afterwards or something."
"I think I know what you want. I'll call some people tomorrow and start getting this together. Give me a date."
"Umm…three weeks? On a Saturday. Yeah, three weeks from yesterday. Can we do it that fast? I know that's really short notice, but I don't want to wait anymore."
"What are we talking about?" Walking into the kitchen, Connor went straight to the stove to make himself a plate. Sitting at the table a few moments later, he looked expectantly at the couple. "Seriously, what are we talking about?"
"A wedding. I want to get married. Well, so does Angel. We want to get married."
"That's cool. When?"
"Three weeks," Buffy said excitedly.
Connor wasn't surprised. He knew Buffy wanted to be married to Angel very badly; he had been surprised when Buffy and Angel had decided to wait until after the birth. Swallowing eggs quickly, he looked up when Brady started to whine. The baby didn't cry often, but he did make keening noises that were enough to get his parents' attention. Watching Buffy lift her son, Connor smiled. She was very good at being a mom, he thought. Quickly finishing his eggs, he stood and playfully punched Angel in the shoulder as he left the kitchen.
Their day went slowly, peacefully. Connor went over paper work that Faith had been sending him, Angel napped with Brady at the bedside and Buffy practiced tai chi and completed a few stress free work outs. She hadn't wanted to tax her body too much, but she had been eager to start training again; it had been nearly six months since she had stopped her formal training.
Stretching after her exercises, she peeked in on Angel and Brady before going back downstairs and into Angel's study. She had found the hiding place for the portrait Angel swore wasn't finished yet, but she had promised to refrain from peeking at it until he was ready to give it her. Sitting at the desk, she thumbed through a few papers Angel had been going through during his week working out of their home before her cell phone rang.
Smiling, she greeted Giles on the other end of the line. Assuring him Brady was perfectly fine, she laughed into the phone as he told her of his return trip to England. He had stayed for three days after Brady's birth, bonding with who he considered his grandson and getting to know Angel a little better. Connor had even given Giles the photo albums to look at that Angel had recently revealed. The older man, in the short time he had visited, had come to a considerably better understanding of the man Buffy was planning on marrying.
They spoke for a short time before Giles had to return to his business but promised to fly in and see Brady in a few months. Smiling, Buffy hung up the phone feeling that her relationship with her adopted father was in better condition that it had been for years. Absently reading through a few open files, she sighed and leaned her head on her fist. Motherhood had invigorated Buffy, she felt more alive now that she had in years, which meant she was also easily bored when she wasn't with her son.
Standing again, she wished Angel would wake up and spar with her. She settled for finding Connor instead. Her step son was only a few years younger than her, but she tried to minimize any awkwardness the lack of age difference could cause. She had been trying to relate to Connor as she would to a friend, not as she imagined herself relating to Brady in twenty years.
Knocking on the door to his bedroom, she smiled as she entered. "Up for some sparring?"
"I thought you weren't supposed to do that stuff for a month."
"Slayers aren't included in that. Look," lifting her shirt slightly, he saw the edge of an already healed wound; it was rapidly progressing into a thin scar. "All better. Let's train."
Smiling, he put his pen down on his desk and followed Buffy to the gym. Discarding his socks and shirt, he stood in the middle of the mat in track pants and a ribbed undershirt. Taking position, he waited for her to slip her tai chi slippers off. Standing opposite him, she smiled wickedly as he attacked.
Catching his arm with her left hand, she hit with her open palmed right hand, forcing him back a few feet. Like his father, the blow barely stung him. Coming at her again, he faked a left before snapping his arm back and extending his right leg. The move caught her slightly off guard but she managed to duck under his leg and push his calf, knocking him slightly off balance.
They were evenly matched in strength and agility, but she had the upper hand when it came to experience and grace. Her movements weren't wasted; she didn't exert herself more than necessary. He tended to put too much effort into a move that did warrant the exertion. Hoping to help with that problem, she caught his arm as it came at her and pushed him through the movement faster than he had meant it to flow. The resulting thud his body made on the mat satisfied an internal part of her that loved to win fights.
Breathing hard, he leapt from the floor and immediately crouched into a low fighting position. She had noticed that he preferred low ground when he fought. Having watched him spar with Angel and Will, Buffy had been able to learn his preferred movements, which gave her another considerable advantage. Connor hadn't had the chance the watch her move or work; she had been too pregnant to spar until a few days ago.
Taking him down again, she wasn't ready for the sweeping of his legs and the twirling of his body that quickly manifested into a sharp kick to the back of her knee caps. Landing hard, the air left her lungs as he grabbed her arm and lifted her from the mat, flipping her through the air. Before she could twist her body in the proper direction, she hit the mat again.
Knowing that she had landed badly, she tried to stay calm as a few terrifying seconds passed when she couldn't get air into her lungs. Finally managing to suck in a desperate breath, she put her hand to her chest and looked at a stricken Connor. Frozen to the spot he was in when he had thrown her, he looked at her in horror, afraid to move or speak.
A small smile crossed her lips. "I'm rusty." Picking herself up, she assured him she was alright. "I fell wrong. I know better than that." Positioning herself in a defensive position, she crooked her finger at him. "Again."
Swallowing hard, Connor looked at her with skepticism. "Don't tell Angel."
Smiling, a mischievous light came to her eyes as she switched to the offensive and started mercilessly attacking every weak point she had observed over the past few months. Stepping back for a few moments to allow her sparring partner to catch his breath, she released a throaty laugh before releasing another volley of side kicks and uppercuts.
"Try to keep up, Connor," she said. She was going to enjoy getting back to her calling, she thought.
