Disclaimer: Credit for such wonderful characters goes to the one and only Joss Whedon. But, I do own the plot.
Author's Note: So, as you probably gathered for the previous chapter, Buffy is indeed pregnant. I think I'm getting somewhere with this story. Yippee!
Willow, Anya and I were sitting in the waiting room at the local Sunnydale health clinic. The paperwork blew my mind, it was all so personal. Do you have any insurance? Do you or any one in your family have chronic or mental illness? Have you experienced any injuries in the past six months? Okay, maybe not that personal, but the fact still remains that I am the Slayer, and being too honest might raise some questions.
I looked to the left and right of me. Willow looked distracted, as if reading a business magazine was going to prepare her for bad news. Anya, however, looked almost excited. She sat up straight, watching the door. I tried to remain indifferent, though inside I was freaking out. What if I was sick? What if I had some terminal illness and had six months to live? I fidgeted.
"Buffy Summers?" the three of us, looked at the nurse who called. We walked towards her and she lead us into the back. Although, it was certainly not as bad as a hospital, the clinic was still a little unnerving. White walls, quiet or silent rooms, and an odd smell of alcohol and children. The nurse directed me onto a scale to take my weight and height, and immediately I was self-concious.
"I heard that scales hear are always five pounds too heavy," Willow whispered to me while we followed the nurse to the room. I nodded, comforted for a moment. I sat down on the table, and the nurse did things that happened in a regular checkup. Checking my blood pressure, reflexes, eyes and ears.
"The doctor will see you in a moment," The nurse announced before she left. I tried to relax, but it just wasn't going to happen.
"Is it too late to back out?" I said aloud. Anya giggled.
"Yeah, it kinda is, Buffy," Willow answered my hypothetical question. "Besides don't you want to figure out what's wrong?"
"I guess," I said dejectedly. The doctor came shortly. She was a short, middle-aged woman with a bright, round face.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Jules," she said, sitting down on the round, spinning chair. "I take it you're Mrs. Summers?"
I nodded, and she added, "These must be your friends."
"Yeah, I'm Anya," then Anya pointed to Willow. "And this is Willow. We're very concerned for Buffy. She might be deathly ill."
Anya had a way of saying things that just made people feel worse. Willow reddened, and nervously cleared her throat. But Dr. Jules merely laughed it off.
"I'm sure she's not that bad off," she said then turned to me. "So why don't you begin by telling us how you've been feeling."
"Well, I --" I looked down at her. "I've been sleeping in a lot later than I usually do because when I go to bed at night, I'm super tired."
"Are you physically active right before you go to sleep?" I nodded, and she marked something down on the chart. "Go on."
"I, um. I've been getting really sick lately, like nauseated."
"Well, it says here that you don't take any medications, so -" Dr. Jules paused, looking over my chart. "Do you have any headaches or any kind of pain anywhere?"
I looked at Willow and Anya, confused and slightly embarrassed. "I've kinda had some. My breasts, they're slightly sensitive."
Anya giggled like a little girl, but Willow gave her a dark look and she stopped immediately. Dr. Jules thanked me for my information and asked if it was okay to take a blood sample. I agreed, however hesitantly. I did not like needles at all. It hurt for a moment, but I didn't dare look. Vampires' dust, demon guts, I could totally handle. But something about my own blood being taken out through a needle made me cringe.
The three of us were mostly quiet while we waited for the results of my blood test. Willow tried to lighten the atmosphere by talking about the new shipment at the Magic Box. But since I had no interest in old, archive books and Anya only cared about the revenue that they brought in, that conversation died quickly.
Sooner than I expected, even though it seemed like hours. Dr. Jules came back in, seeming as happy as when she'd left. This, I assumed, meant that I wasn't going to die in six months, but I was still a little apprehensive about what exactly she was going to say.
"Well, Buffy," Dr. Jules began. "We tested for all the common ills and viruses, such as influenza and things like that. And it turns out that you're not sick at all."
"Well, that's great!" Willow said, grinning.
"Then what's the bad news?" I countered Willow's joyfulness. There was almost always bad news.
"That just depends on your perspective," Dr. Jules answered. "Although you don't have a virus, we do a standard pregnancy test. You had a positive result."
"Buffy's pregnant?" Willow asked, shocked.
"Yes," Dr. Jules smiled. "It would seem so. And that would explain the nausea, headaches and the sensitivity."
I was too surprised for words at the moment. Pregnant? I couldn't believe it. I mean, there was no doubt it was possible and probable, but it was still so...again, surprising. Dr. Jules asked me if I was okay, and I nodded a yes. I mean, I guess so. I just didn't expect this. I was going to have a baby. For one, I didn't think that my being the Slayer would actually allow for this to happen. And for two, I didn't really think of myself - Buffy - as being a mother.
"I'm going to refer you to an OB-GYN, so you can start some checkups right away," Dr. Jules said, standing. "And congratulations, Mrs. Summers."
"Thank you," I said as she left. I looked at Anya and Willow. The former had a confused, almost amazed look on her face. Whereas the latter was blank, like she was still trying to process it.
"Well, I guess that's it then," Willow said, shaking herself out of la-la land. "Are you okay with this, Buffy?"
"Yeah - um," I hopped off the table. "Sure. But, maybe we shouldn't tell anybody else just yet. I should probably talk to Angel first."
"Oh, my god! I didn't even -- he'll be pretty excited, having a baby and all."
"You think so?" I wasn't so sure. Angel was kind of an enigma when it came to things like that. But he never said that he wouldn't want children. I picked up my recommendation at the desk before we left the clinic. I had a week to think about things on my own. About what it meant to have a child, how that would affect things and if I even wanted a child.
During the week, Willow made me avoid patrolling at all costs. So, in the evenings that I could've been out there, finding out what Miroslav wants and taking out another of his comrades, I was stuck inside Giles's apartment, pretending to care about research.
So far, we were at square one and a half. I told Giles about that thing that Mishka was supposed to perform, but he hasn't been able to translate the word or words, if it was a word at all. This running around in circles was frustrating, so I became more and more anxious for Angel to come home so I could get this pregnancy off my chest, and hopefully, get back to what I do best.
Now, I knew that nothing now could be like it was. I was having a baby, and that meant I had to be careful. I even invested in a book for first-time mothers that described everything I was and will be going through. But I figured until I started to expand and began to lose balance, coordination and agility, I could still slay. Besides, I was very strong, so my baby would be well protected.
I was actually at home, reading a section of my new book that explained how the fetus grows into a baby during the 'gestation' period. Like gestation wasn't hard enough to swallow, they had to throw in pictures. Flipping to a part about birthing techniques, I nibbled on some saltine crackers. Then I heard the car pull into the driveway. I stuffed the book behind a cushion on the couch, and turned on the tv, trying to appear as normal as possible.
"Hey," I greeted Angel as he came through the door.
"Hey," Angel took off his coat and I stood up to walk over to him.
"How'd it go?" I asked, not before planting a kiss on his cheek.
"All right," Angel said, tossing the keys onto a nearby table. "Nothing too out of the ordinary; they barely needed me there. How are you?"
"Good, good," I replied. I just then realized that this might be harder than I'd played it out in my head. Why did it always sound so much cooler in my head than it does coming out of my mouth? I rocked on my heels and Angel gave me an appraising look.
"What's up?" He asked as I stuffed my hands into my pockets. "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing!" I answered, perhaps a little too quickly, and Angel didn't fail to notice. "Well, nothing's wrong really, just um."
"Come out with it, Buffy. What is it?"
"Well, you know how you and I, we sometimes --" I cleared my throat, but Angel missed the hint. "Uh, you know that when two people love each other and when they're ready -- well, I guess it can happen before, but I..."
Okay, beyond nervous now. Angel was looking at me like I'd just given him a riddle, then he laughed, "Buffy, just say it."
"Just say it?" What, is he crazy? But then, he did have a point. I mean, it was Angel, and it wasn't like it wasn't his. I was acting like I'd just killed someone's cat. "Okay, you're right. There is no easy way around this, so I'm just gonna...Angel, I'm pregnant."
Oh, god. There was that weird silence that follows big news and seems to last five years. Angel and I just looked at each other. I'd stopped rocking, because I wasn't even sure if I could move at the moment without falling over. I couldn't read Angel's face, not that it was blank. He had the furrowed brow thing going on that could mean three things: bewildered, concerned, or pissed off. Pins and needles now.
"You..you're pregnant?" He echoed. "Really?"
"Yeah, I went to the doctor's and everything," I answered. "Turns out I wasn't sick at all."
All of a sudden, I was being picked up into a very strong hug and spun around. I put my arms around Angel's neck and held on. Color me confused because this was not the reaction I was expecting.
"That's great!" He stopping spinning me around and kissed me.
"Wait, what do you mean?" I pushed him back for a moment. "It's great that I'm pregnant? Or it's great that I'm not sick?"
"That you're pregnant!" Angel had a smile that I hadn't seen in a while, a very proud one. "Buffy, this is good."
"Yeah," I said, his enthusiasm was infectious. "It is."
For a moment or two, Angel didn't want to put me down and I was on the receiving end of many, many happy kisses. When he finally calmed down, we talked. We spent the rest of the night discussing having a child. I showed him my book, and he promised to help in any way possible. We talked for so long actually, that I fell asleep on the couch with him. I had a new outlook on being a parent that Angel shared with me. He told me that despite all the hard work and responsibility, it would be worth it to have someone completely ours and something to carry us on after we're gone.
"They'll mean the world to us," I heard him say before I fell asleep. "You'll see."