A/N: Welcome to part 1 of 2 for the Season 5 edition of my "Jenny lives" AU. We're diving into belonging, connection, and found families in this one. Hope you enjoy!

Buffy

She'd bared her soul to Giles in her darkened living room, whispering the truth about Dawn as the subject of said conversation lay sleeping upstairs. In HER bedroom, which Buffy specifically remembered Dawn picking out when they first came to see the house. Just as Buffy remembered the toys and the boy band posters and the explosion of pink and purple and pastel that went on to cover every surface of the room over the almost five years they'd lived in Sunnydale.

Except Dawn hadn't been there for more than six months of it.

Buffy swore Giles to secrecy. She knew her clan well at this point, much too well to put on blinders and assume that they could all rise to the challenge and keep it together in front of Dawn. None of them could, except for Buffy because she had to and Giles because he was her outlet and an adult - an adultier adult- and Jenny because Giles needed an outlet too. Jenny had been her only concession. And not just because of Giles, if Buffy was being fully honest. Jenny had grown on Buffy, too.

What Buffy hadn't expected, however, was to be standing on the Giles-Calendar doorstep about a week after her initial revelation, suddenly overcome with the desperate urge to bare her soul to someone who wasn't her mother or Giles. Giles was an adult, but still a guy and a rather obtuse guy sometimes when it came to delicate issues, and while her mother was definitely better with feelings and sensitive topics, Buffy wasn't sure how this particular topic would land with her. So Jenny was the logical, not to mention the only, option that remained.

That wasn't to say that Buffy didn't go to Jenny or rely on her when things were bad. Or good. Buffy shuffled her feet nervously on the doormat, waiting for Jenny to answer, and thought back on their whirlwind history. She liked Jenny. Truly. Not even because she was Giles' girlfriend - or partner - at this point and had stuck around through all sorts of complete insanity, most of which Buffy caused or contributed to. And not even because she was useful and helpful and never abused her position as Giles's girlfriend for power over Giles's slayer. And not because she was generous with her time and her advice and her home and never made any of them feel less than when they needed something or screwed up with something.

Buffy did, of course, like Jenny for all of those reasons, but the strongest, most personal factors in Buffy's liking of Jenny painted vivid pictures in her mind. Jenny standing by her when no one else did at the start of senior year, but in such a way that Buffy felt valued and protected rather than smothered and burdensome. Jenny keeping a can of Buffy's favorite coffee in their kitchen and always making sure there was a bag of frozen vegetables on hand when Buffy stopped in late after patrol. Or when Buffy had been scared or lonely or simply out of sorts so many times in the last year and found herself on the same doorstep on which she now stood, there was Jenny always with a smile and a hand on her shoulder as she gestured her inside, an open spot on the sofa (which Giles always immediately vacated in order to "do some reading in the loft" or "go for a nice walk"), and nonjudgmental silence that Buffy had learned she could fill or not fill, depending on her mood, but that either way, Jenny would sit next to her easily and make not a single comment, not if Buffy sat back and crossed her arms in moody silence as she sulked or obsessed or worried, not if Buffy leaned forward with her head in her hands and tears on her cheeks, or even if Buffy leaned into her or took her hand or rested her head in the crook of Jenny's neck. And that was precisely what had driven Buffy to her present state.

The door swung open. "Hey," Jenny greeted easily. She stepped aside to let Buffy in, reached out to touch her back a little as Buffy went by. "Want some coffee?"

Buffy thought longingly of coffee but remembered how much sleep eluded her these days. "I'd better not," she said reluctantly. "I'd hate to blow whatever chance I have of actually counting sheep tonight."

Jenny raised an eyebrow at her. "No pressure or anything," she joked. "I guess my goal can be to actually either try to bore you to sleep, which I can totally do if you want me to talk Visual BASIC to you for awhile, or try to ease your mind enough so you can sleep." Jenny studied her carefully. "I'm assuming it's the latter."

"Ugh, that always confuses me. But if you mean yes to mind-easing and no to Visual...Basics?, then yes."

"Come here then. I have a piece of sofa with your name on it. And obviously things other than coffee to drink. Or eat, even."

"I'm good. Thanks though." Buffy settled into her spot and waited for Jenny to sit beside her. She thought then about how for all of the meaningful conversations she and Jenny had had - but still never the one about Angel and souls and family obligations that they'd spoken of so long ago - very few had been facing Jenny head on. But it worked for them somehow. It made it feel less like a therapy session or a serious conversation with her mother, who tended to interrogate her over the kitchen island, and more like something that was easy, and non-threatening. Now it was up to Buffy to actually put it all into words.

Buffy thought back to something that Willow had let slip a few months back. They'd been talking late at night, each in their own bed and staring at the ceiling, something that had become a welcome habit in their dorm room. Buffy forgot how they had gotten on the subject of love and relationships that last but naturally all roads on that topic led to Giles and Jenny since they were one of few couples that either girl knew that seemed to be in it to win it. And Willow casually mentioned something Jenny had said about having a baby or wanting to have a baby that Buffy had turned over and over in her brain for weeks after. They all saw so much death, but here was at least one person around them who seemed to be able to think about a world with the possibility of life.

Buffy would have denied it if asked, but she'd studied Jenny carefully in the weeks that followed before she found something new to really focus on and the now not-so-foreign topic started to take up less space in her psyche. She knew from Willow that Jenny wasn't pregnant, but Buffy found herself looking for any excuse to look at Jenny, to scan her up and down. What was it like, Buffy wondered. To somehow decide that you wanted to have a baby? That you wanted to make another life, one that would take root inside of you? Buffy herself didn't know, but the fact that Jenny - her very cool and hip and sophisticated former teacher turned confidant - was thinking about those things seemed like something from another world. And as she subtly glanced over Jenny's slender physique and flat midsection, she imagined what Jenny would look like, act like even, and not just in terms of a growing tummy and careful movement and soft smiles, but in terms of the feelings and perspectives and just...differences. All places that Jenny would go but none of them - at least right now - could follow. Until Buffy's current complications threw her for a loop that even she hadn't expected and had trouble processing.

"Buffy," Jenny was saying patiently, dragging Buffy out of her thoughts. She tapped on Buffy's knee lightly. "I love you, but this only works if you use words. Unlike Willow, my craft is not advancing quickly enough for telepathy here."

That was another thing. Buffy didn't know if it had something to do with babies or possible motherhood or the general trauma that they'd all continually survived or even that they'd all lost the ability to speak not that long ago, but Jenny had also seemed significantly more open lately. Not mushy or obnoxious or motherly, but very matter-of-factly willing to actually put her feelings about all of them into words. It was refreshing and meaningful and even was known to bring about a sort of warmth that spread through Buffy's entire body, but also a bit more challenging when Jenny was asking that same openness of her. So Buffy settled on a zinger of an opening.

"Do you think you and Giles will ever have kids," she asked, knowing the answer and feeling just a bit manipulative.

Jenny didn't miss much. She shot Buffy an amused but slightly cautious look. "That's a little out of left field, especially considering that the bread crumbs that probably sparked this conversation were left months ago." Buffy blushed, but Jenny continued with her absent tapping on her knee so she figured that she wasn't too uncomfortable.

"I hope so," Jenny continued. "It's...not on the table for the near future. We're not actively trying. But, yes, it's something we both want."

Buffy had to admire the honesty. "What...what do you think it's like," she asked. Some of it was actual curiosity and some of it was tied, however tangled, to her own issues of late.

"Having a baby?" Jenny looked surprised. "I don't know. I can only guess, with my own hope added in. But of course you know that already. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why are you asking me? Not that I mind talking to you about this, but I don't really have much more experience in this arena than you do. Beyond just considering it and wanting it." Buffy slid her hand into Jenny's then, and Jenny paused to glance at her quickly before continuing. "I know that there are things that might be more my area than your mom's," Jenny said carefully. "But this doesn't seem to be one of them, given that your mom actually has kids."

"I can't talk to her about this," Buffy interrupted just as another thought occurred to her. "And, before you ask, I'm not pregnant. If there's anyone to really be concerned about, it would probably be Anya."

"Yeah, those two are virile," Jenny muttered, making Buffy snort. "But, seriously, I might be out of my depth here. Thinking about getting pregnant and having a kid - wanting it even - still doesn't give me anything to go on."

"But you know that you want it," Buffy commented, trying to make it all spin to where it needed to go. "So you must have some idea of how you think it'll feel, what it'll be like."

"To be pregnant?"

"No. Well, maybe. But to...have a baby. To love someone else that much. To have part of yourself out there in the world. And to have to protect her. It." Buffy could hear the intensity in her own voice.

"Buffy," Jenny soothed, squeezing her hand a little to bring her back down. "What brought this on?"

"I'll tell you," Buffy said bravely. "I will. But could you...I don't know...try to answer what I'm asking? Even if you don't know all of it?"

Jenny took a deep breath. "I could try," she said slowly. "But I definitely don't know all of it. I never really thought about it for so long, you know? I didn't want kids but I didn't not want them. And I figured my life would sort of take care of that debate for me. But it didn't. I met Rupert and fell in love with him and there were all of you. And it's not like that isn't enough. And it wasn't overnight, but something changed. I started wondering and considering and dreaming about it. And literally with that last part. I'd dream about being pregnant and then all the next day I'd keep touching my belly. Or staring at it in the mirror. And imagining. It's overwhelming to think about that level of commitment. The changes and the newness. But I realized at some point that not only could I love like that, that I was capable of it, but also that I want to. I really, really want to."

"Wow." Buffy didn't know what she'd been expecting, but the raw honesty in Jenny's voice nearly put tears in her eyes.

"That probably sounds crazy. I mean, it even did to me a little bit and I'm the one with all of that swirling around in my head so…"

"That's just it" Buffy swallowed, knowing it was her turn. "It doesn't sound crazy. And maybe a month ago, I would have said that, too, but I don't know if I would have meant it. Because I definitely wouldn't have understood it. But now...I sort of feel like I do." She waited for Jenny to ask before realizing that she wouldn't. As always, Jenny let Buffy set the pace. So Buffy took the plunge.

"It's Dawn," she confessed. "I know Giles told you. About who she is and our memories and the monks."

"He did," Jenny said carefully, angling herself just a bit toward Buffy. "Finding all of that out must have been pretty complicated."

"You could say that. I...I went from barely wanting to be in a room with her to something else. And at first I thought that knowing the truth meant that I could handle her better, knowing she wasn't really my sister. Like have empathy or sympathy or whatever since she didn't ask for this. Protect her because she's innocent, on top of the memories that they gave me to make me feel protective."

"But that wasn't it?"

"No," Buffy admitted. The dam was about to burst. "It's so much more than that." As if on cue, Jenny let go of Buffy's hand and brought it to her back instead.

"I love her," Buffy breathed. The weight of her words seemed to crush her chest. "Not because I pity her. Not because I have to protect her. And not even because they made her my sister. I love her like I didn't know I could love someone. Like she's a part of me broken off into someone else. Like she's mine."

Jenny was silent for a moment. "That makes sense," she said finally. "Like, in all sorts of ways makes sense. I can't pretend to know the science here, but if they went as far as to alter reality and our memories and everything that was to create her, to put her here, it's probably fair to say that she's...significant to you."

"Like more than a sister." Buffy finally felt like she could meet Jenny's gaze. "But that's where it gets weird. It's like there's what I know in my memories and what I know in real life but what I feel too. And none of it matches."

"How so?"

"In my memories, Dawn's my baby sister. And I remember so, so much and so clearly even though none of it was real. Like, I remember my mom pregnant. I remember feeling her kick. And it's not like...in my head. I can actually, physically remember how it all felt. And even though in real life I know that none of it happened, the memories of that, of Dawn...the love that they built in from these years and years of memories of her as my little sister and protecting her...that's all there."

Jenny's forehead wrinkled slightly as she considered. "But that's not all? And that would be enough to be conflicted about if it were, but it's not. Is it?"

"No." Buffy wasn't sure that she could even put it into words. "I'd assume that the rest of it would be from the shock of finding out and the fact that I have to keep her safe and alive and that she didn't ask for any of this. But the more I think about it, that's not all of it. Dawn...besides everything I just said and remember and feel, it feels like she's mine. Like she's not just someone to protect or keep safe or even just my sister...she's mine."

"You mean, you feel like she's...your child?" Buffy's eyes flew to Jenny's at her words, startled by their simplicity and their complication all at once. Hearing it in words seemed perverse and backward and also...strangely accurate.

"It feels wrong," she confessed. "Even hearing it weirds me out. Because she isn't. Not in actuality or in fantasy. Right? There's a reason that they made her my sister and not my daughter. So why does it feel like now that she is?"

Jenny was silent for a long time but rubbed soft patterns onto Buffy's back as she contemplated. "I don't even know where to start," she finally said. "Except to say that you're not wrong to be feeling or asking any of this. And that everything I would say is a guess."

"But probably a good one," Buffy said hopefully. "I'd take good guesses."

"Okay," Jenny said with a bit more confidence in her voice. "So we know that the monks needed to send the Key to you to protect. And it needed to be someone intimate and significant, more than a friend or a boyfriend. And it needed to be someone sort of vulnerable, someone who you'd be inclined to protect anyway."

"So obviously they chose sister," Buffy filled in. "Rather than baby."

"Which makes sense, because you're young. Too young for it to be an easy thing to alternate reality to give you a child. Think of all the ways that Dawn had to be inserted into every part of this world...imagine that with a baby? Or a toddler? You're barely twenty now. That's a huge thing to write in."

"Not to mention the protection piece," Buffy mused. "A kid sister is one thing. The littler the kid, the harder it would be to keep her safe."

"True." Jenny smiled a little at the thought, strange as it was. "They are basically like hazards to themselves when they're that small. So protecting her from Glory…" Her smile vanished.

"So the sister angle makes sense," Buffy continued quickly. "But why do I feel like she's mine or part of me or whatever? I have nothing to compare it to, obviously, and the only one I can ask about anything like this is my mom and given all of this, she's not the most accurate or objective. And it's not just because I was mad at her or frustrated with her or annoyed by her and now I'm guilty and trying to overcompensate. It's not."

"I believe you. And I'm impressed that you managed to retain anything from that Dr. Walsh's psych class last year."

"Tell me about it."

"Seriously, though," Jenny added. "Maybe that's your answer. Maybe she is part of you. Like I said, I have no idea as to the science behind any of this. I don't know what we're looking at with genes here. Is she your sister, genetics wise? Maybe. Is she more like a piece of you? Like a twin, but younger? Could be. Is she the genetic equivalent of your child? I don't know. I really, really wish I did and that I could help you."

"I think that even if we did, it wouldn't change how I feel about her."

"Which is?"

"That I love her," Buffy's words came out in a flood. "As a sister, but more than that. I love her more than I could ever put into words. And I have to keep her safe, not just because I'm the Slayer or her sister, or that it would mean the end of the world if I didn't, but that if I lost her...it would be like losing a part of myself. It would be like losing someone that was mine." Distantly, Buffy felt Jenny tug her a bit closer so that their heads touched, with Jenny's arm wrapped securely around her shoulders.

"Even if you don't understand exactly where it comes from or why it's there, you have every right to feel what you feel. And love Dawn as you love Dawn."

"But...I mean, that's great and all, but even if I can feel that way, how do I know that it's right? That it's valid? And not just me believing what I want, even if it's not the truth?"

Jenny's voice was quiet when she finally spoke. "I do believe that all feelings are valid just because you feel them. But do you want to know, specifically, why I believe in what you feel? And how I know that it's right?"

"You...you know that? Like you really really know that?" Buffy could hear the disbelief in her own voice. She could barely wrap her head around it herself. How was it that Jenny could?

"I do," Jenny continued. "And I know it because I feel the same way. I feel that love and protectiveness and...everything I can't fully put into words. In two instances."

"What are they?" Buffy's voice was barely above a whisper and she tilted her head to look at Jenny, transfixed.

"The first is about what I said earlier." Jenny seemed neither shy nor bashful, but her tone took on a deeper level of meaning than Buffy had ever heard from her before. "About having a baby. That's what I feel when I think about getting pregnant, about Rupert and I starting a family."

Buffy barely had time to process the warm feelings sliding through her at that revelation when the second came careening behind it.

"And the second is actually about all of you. Because it isn't really that Rupert and I would be starting a family, but adding to it, more like. Because we have you kids. And the other time that I feel all those things you talked about, about how you feel with Dawn...that's how I've come to feel about you. About all of you."

Jenny barely had all of the words out before Buffy had her arms around her, too overcome to speak. She'd come here expecting a cool head and rational thoughts and familiar comfort and came away with something she hadn't anticipated. And Buffy had known, even if it rarely surfaced, how entangled they'd all come to be. But she hadn't realized the depth to that entanglement, to the tethers that linked them all together.

Buffy was seized by a thought so powerful in its fear that she was glad that she was already buried deep in Jenny's embrace. To love in a way that was so fierce and whole and all-consuming was beautiful...but loss within that love was immeasurable in its grief and devastation. And Buffy shivered with the realization that they were already, desperately, in the throes of such a tidal wave of potential loss that she had no idea how they would possibly stay ahead of the inevitable crash.