Background ~ For the benefit of the uninitiated: Faith and Gunn
had a baby together (Hope), but Faith died and Gunn ran off for a while. Faith
discovered she was now stuck in the spirit world as a ghost. Cordelia and
Wesley, both grieving and drunk, mistakenly slept together. Buffy discovered
that she would die herself from the effects of the Slayer Calling spell, until
Tara stepped in with a counter spell that bound Buffy and Angel's life energies
together, temporarily making Angel human.
Disclaimer ~ All credit goes to Joss and lots of other important
people, none of whom are me.
Dedication ~ To Joss – I may think and say a lot of nasty things
about the guy, but ultimately he deserves credit for creating such wonderful and
three-dimensional characters that are just so easy to write about. I still
haven't forgiven him for the whole Riley debacle, though!
A/N ~ Finally the fluff!!! But there's a little bit of
angst mixed in there too, because I love it so much (and also because I'm
evil). Sorry this took so long, but I've been distracted with other projects.
Thank you for your patience!
Buffy snuggled deeper under the covers, insinuating herself
even closer (if that were possible) to her lover. She couldn't get over how warm
he felt to the touch, or how his skin broke out in goose pimples in a cool
draft, or how he would turn to her with a childlike expression of delight every
time he sampled a new taste. But most of all, she marvelled at the sound of his
heart beating. It was a low thump that sounded first dully in his chest then
reverberated through his whole body. She could listen to it forever – in fact
since the ritual she'd literally spent hours just resting her head above his
chest, listening to the steady rhythm that drummed where there had once only
been silence. She knew she had to make the most of this while it lasted,
because it wouldn't be forever.
Angel shifted slightly underneath her, dipping his head
downwards to give Buffy an affectionate good morning kiss.
"Hey," she protested sleepily. "You're all scratchy!"
He ran a hand experimentally over his chin, still not
completely used to the stubble that now adorned it every morning. There were
definite benefits to being dead, the fact that it rendered shaving unnecessary
being one of them.
"What, don't you like my designer stubble?" He teased. "I
thought it was supposed to be the height of fashion nowadays. Maybe I should
consider growing a moustache or a goatee?"
"No!" Buffy protested vehemently. "I like you just as you
are. Now go shave so I can kiss you properly."
Angel sighed heavily, dragging himself out of bed. Shaving
was not one of his favourite activities, especially since he didn't have a
proper reflection. It was one of the weird side effects of Tara's spell to bind
him and Buffy together. He didn't know what the spell meant he was now, the
best definition he could come up with was that of a living vampire. His heart
beat and his body performed all the usual human…functions, but he still had
most of the features of vampirism. His reflection wasn't complete, instead he
just cast a blurry shadow across mirrors, crosses still burnt him and he still
needed to drink blood.
He and Buffy had spent the past few days since the ritual
Tara performed investigating the exact nature of their new situation. Their
biggest experiment had been with Angel and sunlight. His demon's fear of
sunlight had initially meant he was reluctant to even try to go out during the
day. But Buffy had been persistent, eventually persuading him into an attempted
sortie. This had been a very short trip out, however, as Angel's skin had soon
begun to redden and burn in the strong light. But the reaction was no where
near as severe as it had been, and further trials had proved he could go out on
cloudy days with little discomfort, so Angel was generally pretty happy about
the situation. Buffy had even bought him his first ever pair of sunglasses and
he wore them with pride.
For Buffy the immediate effects of the spell had been less
obvious. There would be no change in her situation really, until her mortal
body died and she would have to rely upon a share in Angel's life energy to
keep her animated also. After that she would essentially be a vampire, except
without the demon inside of her. For now all that had happened was that she'd
developed a taste for his pig's blood, proclaiming it much less disgusting than
she had formerly thought and supplementing a mug of it for her coffee each
morning.
Angel began the first upward sweep of the razor, wincing as
it cut into him, despite its safety guard. At least he still had his vampiric
healing, anyway, otherwise he would have been in real trouble. His acute
hearing caught the sound of pots banging about in the kitchen and he picked up
the pace of his actions, mindless of the tiny cuts that sprung up all over his
face. They would soon close, but repairing the damage to his kitchen if Buffy
were allowed to cook in it would take considerably longer and be a lot more
difficult.
He swiftly exited the bathroom and padded barefoot into the
kitchen. Seeing Buffy standing at the stove, he crept up behind her and pressed
his now smooth cheek to that of his love.
"Better?" He asked in a husky voice.
"Much," she replied smiling, turning around to kiss him as
she had promised to earlier.
He broke off the kiss before it could turn into anything
more serious, however, and motioned to the culinary effects she had lined up on
the counter.
"You weren't planning on doing anything with those were
you?" He asked with a slight raise of his eyebrows.
"Well…" Buffy replied stretching the word out into more
syllables than he had thought possible. "I just thought that it would be nice
for me to cook for you for once – you know, now that you actually eat food –
rather than it being the other way around. So, this is a nice thing I'm doing,
really. You should be thanking me for it instead of getting all anally
retentive, chef-ier than thou."
"Buffy," he began, trying his best to be tactful. "I love
the gesture, I really do. Thank you." He kissed her softly on the lips. "And I
love you." Another kiss. "But…"
"Get out of your kitchen," Buffy finished for him.
Angel nodded, smiling slightly. "You are a wonderful,
beautiful woman," he addressed her sincerely. "And God gave you many gifts.
Unfortunately, culinary expertise is not one of them."
Buffy slipped her arms around his waist, leaning her face
up towards his so that the tips of their noses touched. "You have serious
control issues, you know." She teased. "I think maybe you should consider going
to a counsellor-"
He cut her off with a deep searing kiss. "Go shower and
dress and I'll have breakfast done by the time you get back."
A long, thin wail interrupted them before Buffy could reply
to this suggestion. The couple simultaneously rolled their eyes, breaking out
into long-suffering smiles.
"Or I could just go and check on Hope?" Buffy proposed.
She left Angel in the kitchen, starting work on the pancake
mix and went to answer the insistent cry of the baby that now seemed to be
theirs by default. As she picked up Hope and cradled the little girl in her
arms, Buffy felt a pang of guilt and grief. The baby had Faith's eyes, it was
unmistakeable, Buffy could almost see the image of her lost friend staring out
of Hope's gaze. She thought back to this morning and how happy she had been
when she woke up, she hadn't even spared a thought to Faith or to the pain that
Gunn must be going through right now.
It seemed unfair to Buffy that she should be so happy in
the wake of such tragedy and for a second, holding Hope and thinking of how she
would grow up without her mother, Buffy felt terribly guilty. But in her heart
she knew that Faith wouldn't have wanted her to grieve forever. If there was
one thing her sister Slayer's death had taught Buffy it was that nothing in
life were certain. You had to grab your chances of happiness when they arose,
otherwise you could miss out on them forever. And Buffy knew that Angel's
humanity was only a temporary thing, when the side effects of the spell cast
upon herself were fully realised and her own mortal body died, then their lives
could be turned upside down. She had to make the most of her happiness whilst
she still could, and although saddened that Faith wasn't here to share the
experience, Buffy wasn't going let such thoughts cast too much of a cloud over
her life.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Full house." Faith announced triumphantly, laying down her
imaginary cards. One of the new skills she had been learning was how to conjure
up objects out of the ether. They weren't actually real, just some kind of
illusion that had the power to fool ghosts. Faith didn't quite understand the
physics of it, she just knew it was a pretty useful skill, especially when it
came to changing the clothes she was wearing. She hadn't particularly been
looking forward to spending eternity in a spirit world incarnation of the
scruffy old T-shirt and sweatpants she'd died in.
"Y-you win again." Dennis
conceded, mentally creating a small pile of poker chips, which he added to
Faith's already large stash.
"Yeah, well, you're not
exactly the most challenging opponent I've ever faced." Faith muttered in
return. She wistfully fingered the poker chips, wondering what the point of the
whole game was. Dennis was the worse poker player she'd ever encountered and in
the past hour she'd won eleven hands against him. And even the winning was
beginning to lose its satisfaction now. The chips she had so many of were
worthless, not real even despite how solid they felt beneath her fingertips.
And Dennis could just produce more of them whenever he needed to, so it didn't
even feel like she was cleaning him out.
Frustrated, she upset the
card table, flipping it over onto its side and sending playing cards and
plastic disks flying in all directions. But before they could even hit the
ground they disappeared, Faith's discontinued focus on their game causing the
illusion to be lost.
"Are you o-okay?" Dennis
asked concernedly.
"Apart from the fact I'm dead?" Faith answered
sarcastically.
Dennis looked thoroughly taken-aback by her comment, so she
retracted it, muttering 'I'm fine' under her breath.
"I-It's difficult at first," he offered. "Getting used to
being a ghost, I mean."
"I just wish it wasn't so mind-numbingly boring." Faith
said, pacing distractedly around the room. "I need some action. Aren't there
any vampire ghosts I can slay?"
"I, uh, I don't think so…"
"Then I'll just have to get down to some old fashioned
fun." She suggested, an idea beginning to form in her mind. Faith turned back
to him, a wicked glint in her eye. "Tell me Dennis, what is it that ghosts do
best?"
He just looked at her blankly.
Faith sighed, this guy had a lot to learn. "You ever read
any books, see any movies? Hear any ghost stories?"
"A-A f-few, maybe." He stuttered uncertainly in reply.
"And what do the ghosts always do in these tales?" She
asked impatiently.
"Uh, um, haunt things?"
"Give the boy a prize – he finally got it."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Wesley collapsed exhausted into an armchair, vaguely
suspecting his feet were covered in blisters, but not daring to check. He
hadn't felt this tired out in months; the whole afternoon had been a nightmare
from start to finish and he couldn't imagine a more stressful pastime. Even
nearly dying at the hand of that Kedrite demon last week had been more
relaxing. Why shopping was so popular with so many people, he had no idea.
He examined his purchases unsatisfactorily. Who knew buying
a birthday gift for Cordelia was going to be this difficult? He'd never had a
problem before, in fact in previous years he'd either forgotten completely, or
Cordy had dropped so many not-very-subtle hints that it was painfully obvious
what he was supposed to get her. But this year everything was different. The
night they mistakenly spent together wasn't supposed have any lasting
impression upon their relationship – they had both agreed not to let it spoil their
friendship – but things between them were strained nonetheless.
Wesley didn't understand what the big problem was. After
all they were both adults, they'd made a choice to sleep together (albeit a
drunken one) and now they should be able to live with that choice. Sex was sex,
just something physical and not indicative of anything deeper. They had both
had plenty of sex before with plenty of people (well, not too many people,
Wesley corrected mentally) so it shouldn't mean anything special this time. Though
if that was the case then why was he getting so wound up over something as
insignificant as a birthday present?
He didn't know the answer to this question, he just knew
that it was important that the gift he bought gave out the right signals to Cordelia.
He didn't want to get her something too extravagant or expensive that might
make her think that is was now interested in more than her friendship. But on
the other hand, he didn't want to get her too insignificant a gift, as he
needed it to somehow mend the rift in their relationship that this mistake had
left. So, he would have to strike the right balance. Something bought with
consideration that Cordelia would like, but nothing hugely expensive and
definitely nothing vaguely romantic.
In the end, unable to decide on the right purchase, Wesley
had come home with a variety of items. They ranged from a bottle of Cordy's
favourite perfume (too intimate), to a designer silk scarf (too costly), to a
book on demonology (too stuffy and intellectual – though he might keep it for
himself, actually), to a gift voucher (too impersonal). He'd thought that he
might be able to concentrate better on his choice, away from the crowds of the
mall, but the peace and quiet of his apartment wasn't helping him any. If anything
it was making things worse – he now had plenty of opportunity to agonise over
Cordelia's range of reactions to each gift possibility. He pictured her face
light up as she opened the packages and imagined what her undoubtedly candid
comments would be.
She's married, you fool, he told himself, as his
mind settled on a vision of Cordy's smile as she opened the box containing the
silk scarf. Happily married, he forced himself to think, as Cordelia
smiling turned into Cordelia kissing him gratefully on the cheek. And she's
not interested in you. He concentrated on this thought as he carefully
wrapped the parcel containing the designer accessory, not even pausing to
consider how the burnt gold fabric would pick out the blonde highlights in
Cordy's hair, or how beautifully it would contrast with her tanned skin. And he
didn't even contemplate that it was possibly more than friendship he meant when
he wrote 'love from Wesley' on the gift tag.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Buffy felt like a fool. She couldn't wipe the stupid grin
off her face. No matter how hard she tried it just wouldn't go – not that it
was that bad a price to pay for feeling this happy, though. She remembered the
childhood stories her mother had used to tell her, that if the wind changed
when she was pulling a ridiculous expression then her face would stick like
that, and she almost hoped that the wind would change now. She wanted to be
permanently left with the grin, so that whenever she looked in the mirror, she
would be reminded of this moment and how perfect it was.
She was walking in the park in the late afternoon sunshine,
enjoying the warmth of the late spring weather. With one hand she pushed Hope's
stroller along the path in front of her, the baby inside it sleeping
peacefully, and the other hand held tightly on to Angel's as he walked beside
her, matching his step to her own languid pace. The whole experience was
incredible and definitely something she never would have imagined possible.
Sometimes life surprised you in good ways as well as bad.
They stopped to sit on a park bench and admire the scene
before them: a lake with willow trees delicately dangling their branches over
its edge, the water stained deep orange with reflections of the slowly setting
sun. To one side stood an expanse of open lawn, scattered with picnickers –
lovers snuggling together on woollen blankets and children playfully kicking
about a football. Buffy turned to study
Angel, the look of wonder on his face blatantly obvious. She couldn't help but
smile at the dark sunglasses he wore to protect his eyes and at the two red
spots that appeared on his cheeks where they'd caught the sun.
She leaned up to kiss him softly, catching the scent of his
coconut oil sunscreen as she did so. Angel smiled back at her, studying
intently the way her golden hair shined in the dying light.
"Have I told you how beautiful you look in the sunshine?"
He whispered.
"Only a couple of hundred times." Buffy replied with a
slight giggle. "Ditto, by the way."
"Really? You think I look good?" Angel teased gently.
"Oh yeah," she returned in a breathy voice. "I'd sleep with
you any day." She caught his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, which he returned
with equal intensity. They were interrupted, however, by an escaped football
bouncing up to hit Angel in the side. Wryly amused, he scooped up the ball only
to be met with the sight of young boy of about seven come hurtling towards him
in search of his lost toy. The boy stopped in front of them, took a minute to catch
his breath and brush his floppy blonde hair out of his eyes, then spoke in an
impatient voice.
"Can I have my ball back, Mister?"
"Sure," Angel handed the ball over with great ceremony.
"Just be more careful where you kick it next time, though."
"Honey," a breathless voice called from further up the
path. "How many times have I told you to watch what you're doing with that
ball?" The boy's harassed mother flashed a wary glance at Buffy and Angel, then
upon deciding that they weren't going to present any threat to her child,
offered her apologies. "I'm sorry about this – kids, you know."
"Yeah, we understand." Buffy replied with a slight smile,
squeezing Angel's knee as she did so.
The woman seemed to notice Hope for the first time and
peered inside the stroller. "Oh, what a beautiful baby!" She exclaimed. "Is she
yours?"
"Uh, no." Angel clarified. "We're just taking care of her
for a friend."
"Well, you make a cute family, anyway." The woman offered
before leading her son back to their group.
"Do you hear that?" Buffy asked after the woman had gone.
"She said we made a cute family."
"I guess we do." Angel, answered noncommittally, somehow he
thought he knew where Buffy was going with this.
Buffy leant against Angel's shoulder and bit her lip
nervously. "Do you think, you might want to maybe consider, uh, possibly making
this family a little bigger? I mean, we don't have to, it was just a
suggestion, forget I ever said anything…" she finished hurriedly.
"Forget you said what exactly?" Angel asked, knowing
exactly what she meant, but wanting to make her spell it out to him.
"Nothing." Buffy turned away from him, blushing slightly
and bending over to check on Hope.
Angel leant over her and rested his chin on her shoulder,
his lips just millimetres away from her ear. "We should talk about this," he
murmured.
Buffy turned her body back towards his, but refused to meet
his gaze, instead studying her hands. "Well…" she began. "I know we never
really discussed this before, because it wasn't an issue, but now…"
"Now I'm alive and it is." Angel finished for her.
"Yeah," Buffy risked a look at his face, which to her
frustration wore its usual impassive expression. "And we don't have much time,
you know."
"I know." He replied, covering her hands with his. "Buffy,
do you want a baby?" He asked outright, finally voicing the issue he knew had
been on the edge of her thoughts for the past couple of days.
"I want your baby." She answered, immediately
colouring bright red and hiding behind her hand, embarrassed. "I can't believe
I just said that," she added. "I mean, how pathetic must I sound? I think I
just reversed fifty years of feminist action."
"Buffy," Angel smiled. "I don't think you sound pathetic at
all. I think you're beautiful and strong and independent. And I love that you
just said that."
"You do?" She asked hopefully. "Because you've never told
me how you feel about children and I guess I figured you'd hate the idea of
being a father."
"I don't hate the idea. It just scares the Hell out
of me."
Buffy laughed and returned to her position leaning against
his shoulder. "It scares me too," she said in a serious voice. "The idea of
being responsible for bringing a new life into the world is the most petrifying
thing I've ever considered doing, but it's also the most wonderful. Do you get
what I mean?"
"Yeah," Angel tightened his arms around her. "I do."
"And I think we're doing a pretty good job so far, with
Hope…"
"We are."
"So, do you want to try for a baby then?" She asked
tentatively.
"Well, I didn't think we were doing much to be not trying
for a baby." He answered with some amusement.
Buffy twisted around to face him, wearing a seductive
smile. "Well, we'll just have to be a little more active in our endeavours from
now on."
Angel
lowered his lips to hers so that they contacted in a long, slow kiss. "I've not
got a problem with that."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Are you really quite sure this is a good idea?" Wesley
asked Angel sceptically.
After
his discussion with Buffy in the park, the vampire had privately consulted the
former Watcher about his feelings on the subject. Angel was concerned that his
rather unique circumstances may have an effect on his and Buffy's ability to
conceive a child. The reality was that they weren't just any other normal
couple trying to get pregnant; they were a living vampire and the eldest ever
surviving Slayer, meaning that this was not just a matter of simple biology.
Wesley,
however, had been able to come up with any concrete objections as to why it
shouldn't be physically possible for Angel and Buffy to have children together.
The birth of Faith's daughter had been relatively normal, excluding its medical
complications, and all indications showed that Hope was a very ordinary,
perfectly healthy baby. So, with the problem of adverse effects of the Slayer
calling spell solved in Buffy there was no reason why she should not be able to
bring a pregnancy to term. As for Angel, so far they had determined that all
his bodily functions were working the same as a normal human's would, so it
could be assumed the same would be true for his reproductive system. Angel
would, no doubt, pass on the human DNA carried in his sperm, making his child
no different from any other man's. On this Wesley was convinced. What he was a
little more concerned about, however, was what would happen after the baby was
born.
"This
is definitely what you want?" He inquired for about the sixth time.
"It's
what Buffy wants." Angel answered automatically.
"You
know you can't just do this for Buffy's sake. A reluctant parent is inevitably
harmful to the child, and you know as well as I do the detrimental effects a
bad father can have."
Angel
caught Wesley's pointed gaze, the unspoken knowledge of each other's disastrous
paternal relationships passing briefly between them. "I want this too," he said
simply, deliberately avoiding any deeper analysis of the situation.
Wesley
was not going to let him off that easily, though. "Yes, but are you certain
you'll be able to cope with it? Father-son interactions follow a distinct
pattern that is often passed on down the generations. These things are
cyclical. Even neglecting your history as a vampire you are likely to mimic the
behaviours shown to you by your father – a classic case of the abused turning
into the abuser-"
"Listen,"
Angel cut him off in a gentle voice, mindful of the painful emotions this
discussion must be stirring up for Wesley. "I know this is a difficult subject
for you Wesley, but my family circumstances were rather different to yours. I
wasn't abused, I was a rash and foolish young man who wouldn't listen to reason
and showed no propriety of behaviour in a time when such a thing was vitally
important. I inflicted as much damage on my father as he did on me. And I'm not
the same character now as I was then – that at least should be obvious."
"Yes,
indeed." Wesley managed quietly after a long pause. Still reluctant to give up his
argument, however, he continued to lecture. "Bringing a child into this world
is a huge responsibility, you know."
"Wesley,"
Angel replied with slight annoyance. "You don't need to give me the sex ed.
line. Buffy and I aren't teenagers. We understand about the responsibility –
we're caring for one child already if you remember."
"Yes, but that's different." The Brit argued.
"How
exactly?"
"Your
custody of Hope is only a temporary arrangement. You're merely looking after
her until Gunn returns."
A
dark cloud crossed Angel's face. "If he ever returns."
"You
don't think he'll come back?"
The
vampire sighed. "I honestly don't know. I can't even begin to imagine how
Faith's death must have affected him, or how he's feeling at the moment. Gunn
was never the most…predictable of characters. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised
if we never saw him again."
Wesley
stared aghast at Angel's suggestion. "But the man wouldn't just abandon his
child like that, would he?"
"It's
been done plenty of times before."
"Yes,
but I wouldn't have thought Gunn would be the type of person to do such a
thing."
"There
isn't a type." Angel answered bluntly. "But, no, I wouldn't have expected this
from Gunn either. However, it's been nearly a month now and the more time that
passes without hearing from him, then the less likely it is that he'll return."
Wesley
nodded sadly. "Yes, I suppose you're right."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Faith's laughter echoed loudly through the abandoned building.
"Damn!" She exclaimed loudly. "That was the most fun I've had in ages!"
"Y-you don't think t-that we upset those kids too much?"
Dennis asked concernedly. "T-they did seem rather scared."
"Nah," Faith waved her hand dismissively. "They'll just
have to find somewhere else to get their rocks off."
When she had discovered that the former chapel was now a
favourite make-out spot with the local teenagers, she had decided that it was
the perfect place to test out her skills at haunting. Opting for the
traditional approach she had set doors slamming and sent objects flying across
the room in typical poltergeist style, rounding off the show by making some
spooky noises.
"Did you see that boy's face when I called out his name?"
Faith asked enthusiastically. "He nearly peed his pants! Todd, oh Todd, I'm
watching you…" She dropped her voice an octave, making it low and sultry,
imitating the whisper she had affected earlier, before adding: "And I didn't
even know guys could scream that high."
"Y-you had a good time then?"
Faith considered this for a moment, then turned back to
Dennis, suddenly strangely shy. "Yeah, yeah, I did. Maybe being a ghost isn't
so bad after all."
"It has its moments." He replied thoughtfully.
"So, we've discovered what I like to do to get my kicks."
Faith said, casually perching on one of the church's old pews. "What about
you?"
"M-me?" Dennis asked, nervous again now that the focus of
the conversation had returned to him.
"Yeah, y-you." Faith imitated, unable to resist the cruel
dig. Then feeling a pang of guilt at mocking the man who had only offered her
kindness and help from the outset, she softened her tone. "You've been a ghost
for a long time, right? So, you must have found something to do to fill the
time."
"W-well, I sort of have a social club-"
"A social club?" She interrupted. "You mean like lonely
hearts for dead people?"
Dennis winced. "N-not exactly."
"Well, whatever it is I'm in." Faith made a snap decision, feeling
boredom begin to encroach once more. "When's your next meeting?"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Buffy stared incredulously at the illustration on the page
before her. She turned the book on to its side and squinted again at the
picture, finally giving up making any sense of it at all and dropping the
volume she was studying on to the desk where it joined the large pile of other
materials already gathered there. Once she and Angel had talked about all the
pros and cons and finally decided that yes they would try and have a baby, she
had gone out and bought all the self-help books on the subject she could find.
Not that she thought she and Angel needed any help in that area, it was just
that too many years of lectures from Giles and Wesley had taught her always to
research a subject thoroughly first, instead of just plunging in blindly, so to
speak. Though, she thought with a slight giggle, that was usually Angel's area
of expertise.
Now that she had the books, however, she was glad of them.
She'd had no idea that something as supposedly simple as conceiving a child
could actually be so complex. Apparently there were only a very few days in a
woman's hormonal cycle when she could actually become pregnant. This narrow
time gap was extended slightly by the fact that a man's sperm could remain
alive within the female body for anything up to 72 hours after intercourse.
Thus, it could be as long as three days after sex before conception actually
occurred. She could be just walking down the street and suddenly become
pregnant.
Buffy's
head spun at all the facts and figures she had read and she couldn't even begin
to remember all the pieces of advice the books had thrown her way. Some
provided handy charts she was supposed to fill in, so she could track when she
was at her most fertile. Others recommended taking her temperature daily in
order to discover the precise moment that she was ovulating. There were certain
foods she and Angel should eat and certain times of day it was best to make
love at. And the book she had just abandoned even recommended particular
positions that should be adopted if the prospective parents wanted to increase
the likelihood of having a child of a certain gender. This didn't particularly
concern Buffy, as she hadn't decided whether she'd prefer a boy or a girl yet,
but she was left wondering about the logistics of some of the suggestions.
Angel
walked into the office and she tapped the open page of the book with a neat,
French manicured fingernail, drawing his attention to the illustration. "I
didn't even know that was possible." She remarked.
Angel
gave the picture of the copulating couple a cursory glance. "Oh, it is." He
reassured his wife with a knowing smile. "Believe me."
She
punched him good-naturedly in the arm. "I don't think I want to hear any more
than that, thank you very much." She said decisively, snapping the book shut.
"What's
all this extra reading material in aid of, anyway?" Angel asked, curiously
thumbing through one of Buffy's purchases.
"Well,
I thought it was best to know what to expect," she answered. "I sort of wanted
to make sure all the bases were covered. You know, be prepared and all that."
"Buffy,"
Angel teased. "Do you really think this is the best situation to go all Girl
Scout on me in?"
She
rolled her eyes at his comment, but continued with her argument anyway. "You
wouldn't believe how complicated it all is. Did you know that there are four
major hormones involved in a woman's menstrual cycle, the levels of all of
which have to be exactly balanced for her to be able to conceive? And things
like diet and exercise and stress can all affect the production of these
hormones. But it's not just about the woman either," Buffy continued. "The
man's sperm has to be at its optimum as well. It says here…" she searched for a
particular page and began to read from it, "that tight pants or restrictive
underwear can drastically reduce sperm counts as well as the, uh, the motility
of what active gametes do remain."
"Guess
I'll have to return that thong I bought then." Angel deadpanned.
"And,"
Buffy ignored his comment, still on a roll with her recitation of newly learned
facts. "It's not unusual for a couple to be actively trying to conceive for up
to eighteen months before a successful pregnancy results. So, we could have a
long haul in front of us. There's a section in one of these books about
medically assisted fertilisation-"
"Buffy!"
Angel interrupted loudly in an attempt to put an end to her litany. "It's nice that
you're so keen to, ah, inform yourself about all this stuff. But don't you
think we should at least try things the old fashioned way before worrying about
fertility treatments." He put his hands on her shoulders and gazed deep into
her eyes to reinforce his point.
Buffy
smiled at him warmly. "You're right, you're right," she acceded. "I'm getting
totally carried away here aren't I?"
"Just
a little bit." Angel returned her smile. He lowered his voice to a huskier,
more seductive register. "Besides, I had some theories of my own I was hoping
we could explore."
"Oh,
yes?"
"Mm-hmm,"
he confirmed, kissing her softly on the lips. "Mathematical theories."
"Mathematical?"
Buffy raised an eyebrow, sounding a little surprised.
"Yes,
I was thinking of testing the laws of probability."
"Ah,"
she replied knowingly, as she began to follow his meaning. "The greater the
number of trials then the higher the chance of a successful outcome, right?"
"Right."
Angel said, treating her to a deeper kiss.
"I
think I like that theory," she whispered between kisses. "Maybe we should get
on to testing it straight away…"
She
pulled him close to her, running her hands over his chest and back, then moving
them gradually downwards when a knock on the door interrupted them.
"Not now Cordelia!" Buffy called out whilst
Angel was busy fumbling with her shirt buttons and ravishing her neck with his
lips.
"It's
not Cordelia," came a familiar voice, followed by the sound of the door
opening. Buffy and Angel jerked apart in shock, Buffy quickly drawing her hands
down to her chest to cover up again, before staring up into the hard gaze of
Charles Gunn.
Angel
was first to gather himself. "Where've you been all this time?"
Gunn
shrugged. "Went to Boston, checked out a few people Faith knew. Then I took my
time coming back – travelled around a bit until my cash ran out."
Angel
nodded, managing to maintain a neutral expression. "Well, its good to have you
back, anyway." He shook Gunn's hand firmly.
"Yeah,"
Buffy agreed quietly, mindful of the awkward atmosphere that had always existed
between her and the freelance demon hunter.
"So,
how've you been going?" Angel asked.
Gunn
surveyed the interior of the office, paying particular attention to the large
picture window whose blinds were wide open, allowing the midday sunshine to
stream into the room. "Obviously not as well as you." He remarked, his
expression closed off.
Angel
flashed a small ironic half-smile. "Yeah, quite a few things have happened
since you've been away."
"You
human now?" Gunn cut straight to the chase as per usual.
"Not
exactly. I'm more of a living vampire. Buffy and I were forced into performing
a ritual. But we can talk about this later," Angel tried to pacify Gunn,
sensing a rising level of tension in the room. "Why don't we go and see Hope,
you'd be surprised over how much she's grown-"
"She's
so beautiful now." Buffy interjected; glad to be on a topic she felt she could
contribute to. "She's just the spitting image of Faith…"
Gunn's
eyes whipped up to meet Buffy's, his dark irises revealing intense pain, before
the shutters over his emotions fell again and he glared daggers at the blonde
Slayer.
"I-I'm
sorry." Buffy stuttered, cursing her tactlessness. She had moved on from
Faith's death, now able to remember the former Slayer with a bittersweet
sadness, Gunn clearly had not. He hadn't passed the stage of raw and agonising
grief, which mentions of Faith could only exacerbate.
Gunn
ignored her apology, however, instead turning to Angel and handing him a
leather-bound volume. "The diary of Faith's first Watcher," he clarified. "I
picked up in Boston – it makes for an interesting read."
Angel
nodded and deposited the journal on his desk. Gunn's eyes followed the
vampire's movements and in the process caught sight of some of the other
literature that still occupied the desk's surface. Gunn slowly paced over
towards the desk, his entire body a tense knot of restrained emotion. Affecting
a casual attitude he picked up one of Buffy's books and began to flick through
it. Not paying much attention to its pages, however, he seemed more concerned
with Buffy, taking in her flushed cheeks and still rather dishevelled
appearance legacies from her aborted encounter with Angel. Settling a
contemptuous gaze on the Slayer, he thoughtfully repeated the title of the book
he held in his hands, his every mannerism radiating barely concealed hostility.
"Major
Concepts of Conception: A Prospective Parent's Guide. Wow, I really have
missed a few things haven't I? Life goes on though, hey? I think I'll just get
outta here – let you get back to playing happy families."
With
that he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door
behind him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Angel
dashed out after Gunn, sensing that his friend was not in a suitable state to
be left alone right now. Exiting the office into the street, the vampire winced
as the strong sunlight hit him. His eyes were stinging and he could feel his
skin begin to burn, but he pushed these sensations to the back of his mind,
concentrating instead on chasing after Gunn. Using his supernatural speed,
Angel soon caught the other man up and grasped him by the arm.
"Are
you all right?"
"No!
I'm not all right." Gunn returned in a low, dangerous tone, shaking Angel's
hand off his arm. "And I'm not gonna be all right," he began to raise his
voice, getting progressively louder with each successive utterance. "Faith's
dead and nobody else seems to give a SHIT!"
Angel
sighed and tried to speak soothingly. "We do give-" he balked at the use of the
profanity, instead taking a moment to rephrase. "We do care. We all miss Faith
very much."
Gunn
laughed bitterly. "But it didn't take you long to get over her death, though,
did it? You're all sunshine and fucking babies! As long as you've got your
little Buffy to screw then you're fine. You couldn't give a damn about anybody
else."
"Now,
listen-" Angel began forcefully, his own anger beginning to flare. He was
willing to excuse Gunn's outburst considering the current circumstances, but he
did not think it acceptable that Buffy be brought into the matter.
"Forget
it man, I'm not listening to another word you say." Gunn interrupted him. "You
just don't get it! You want to snuggle up with your honey, have 2.4
children? What's next? A white picket fence and a house in suburbia? You're a fucking
VAMPIRE, for Christ's sake! You're an evil demon, you shouldn't get to have
things like that. It's twisted that's what it is."
Angel
opened his mouth to reply, suddenly conscious of the small crowd of shocked
onlookers that had gathered around them. What the spectators must think of the
content of Gunn's speech, Angel couldn't imagine.
"Just
stay the Hell away from me, I don't need you." Gunn interrupted before Angel
could think of anything appropriate to say. The grieving young man stalked off
down the street and this time Angel did not follow, certain that no good could
come from yet another confrontation. Instead he turned around to head back
inside, finding himself face to face with an open-mouthed Buffy who had
witnessed the entire exchange.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Wow, that sounds pretty intense." Cordelia remarked into
the phone, carefully applying nail polish to her toes as she did so. "Poor
Gunn."
"Well, I for one have very little sympathy for the man,"
Wesley returned. "His behaviour was totally uncalled for, not to mention down
right rude."
"Give the guy a break," Cordy argued. "His girlfriend just
died – don't you think he has a right to be a little upset?"
"Faith died a month ago, following which Gunn disappeared
without a word and abandoning his child. Buffy and Angel were kind enough to
step in and care for Hope, now how does he repay them? By publicly berating
their life style choices. I really think that Gunn has surpassed the bounds of
what can be considered excusable."
Cordelia wrinkled up her nose in thought. "But Buffy and
Angel having a baby – that had to come as a pretty big shock. I mean, how many
vampires do you know that are married with children?"
"That being as it may," Wesley countered diplomatically.
"This is still Buffy and Angel's decision and whatever our personal feelings on
the matter we should keep them to ourselves."
"Aha!" She exclaimed, latching on to the possibility of
hearing some illicit gossip. "You hate the thought of it, don't you? I knew
it!"
"I don't hate the idea, Cordelia." He replied with a long
sigh. "I just think that it is possibly not the most sensible course of action
Angel has ever pursued. It would seem to me that they are rather rushing into
things."
"Do you think the baby will have fangs?"
"What? No, I do not think that. I've never heard a more
ridiculous notion in all my life…" Wesley's voice was distracted, and after a
long pause he spoke again in a whisper. "Angel's coming back down stairs, I
should go now."
"Sure," Cordy agreed, and was just about to hang up the
phone when she remembered what the point of the call had been in the first
place. "Wait! I was gonna ask them myself, but seeing as how things are so
tense there can you pass on a message to Mr and Mrs Vamp?"
"If I must." Wesley answered reluctantly, sick of his role
as Cordelia's messaging service.
"Tell them that they're invited to my birthday party on
Saturday night. Oh, and that it's BYOB – bring your own blood." Cordelia took a
quick breath before adding in what she hoped was a casual tone. "Oh, and you'll
be coming as well, of course, since I'm sure you have no other plans for the
evening. Anyway, I'd better let you get your nose back to the grindstone –
bye!"
She dropped the receiver back into its cradle, mentally
analysing her conversation with Wesley. He'd seemed okay, but it was hard to
tell nowadays. Ever since they'd slept together things had been awkward between
them and Cordelia was hating it. She hadn't realised until now what a big part
of her life her friendship with Wesley was and how much she enjoyed their good-natured
banter. She missed the easy way they teased one another and the insults they
would routinely trade. It had always been a competition to see who could come
up with the wittiest comeback – which she consistently won, she remembered with
a smile.
Now, things were different, however. Now their banter no
longer came easily, the words were always edged with tension and uncertainty.
Cordy feared offending Wesley with her remarks, whereas before she had known
that she could say anything to him without harming their relationship. Now
every word she uttered to him seemed to be loaded with hidden meanings. She
didn't want to make overtly mean comments in case he thought she no longer
considered him a friend. And yet she didn't want to appear too nice in case he
read too much into it and thought she might want to be more than just friends.
Basically she just wanted things to get back to normal, because she missed
Wesley. Life wasn't exactly at its easiest at the moment and she needed her
best friend to help her through it all.
Her husband John walked into the room, looking stressed
out, as was the norm these days. He was having trouble with the film company
that employed him – they kept wanting to make changes to his writing and
cheapen the plots or something or other, Cordelia didn't pay much attention to
details. But John was plotting a walk out, this she knew; he wanted to take his
ideas and start up a new company of his own. And at the moment the only results
of these plans were long talks with the bank manager and John's perpetual bad
mood.
"Who was that on the phone?" He asked distractedly,
reaching inside the liquor cabinet for his half-empty bottle of scotch.
Cordelia twisted the cap back on her bottle of nail polish and
stood up to leave. "Nobody important," she said lightly. "Just nobody."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Buffy
spat out the last mouthful of toothpaste and checked her reflection in the
bathroom mirror. A quick adjustment to the straps of her lace nightgown and she
was satisfied with her appearance. She was dressing to please Angel tonight.
Things had been a little strained between them ever since Gunn's return and
Buffy was desperate to try and melt away some of the tension. Friction between
her and Angel had always been distressing, but Buffy seemed to feel it even
more acutely now that she was bonded to her vampire lover by Tara's spell.
Lately she had been noticing that her and Angel's emotions had become more
synchronised – when he was happy so was she, and vice versa. And they were less
inclined to spend time apart, thinking only of each other when they did so.
This was a closeness Buffy had never experienced before and she was immensely
protective over it.
She
found Angel already in bed, deeply engrossed in some four-inch thick dusty
tome. Sliding under the covers next to him she leant her cheek against his
chest and cast her eyes downwards to the page he was looking at. Crowded rows
of strange symbols met with her gaze and she frowned at the completely unfathomable
text.
"What
ya reading?" She asked in a soft voice.
Angel
shifted slightly underneath her. "It's an nineteenth century Chinese text on
demonology."
"Ooh,
sounds exciting." Buffy replied sarcastically.
"At
least it helps put me to sleep at night." He quipped in return.
"Well,
if comes to that," she adopted a seductive tone, "I can think of a lot more interesting
ways to tire you out." She dropped her hand beneath the bedclothes and
rested it on his thigh.
"Buffy…"
He began seriously, his body immediately tensing awkwardly.
"What's
the matter?"
Angel
sighed heavily. "I think we should talk."
She
pulled away from him, moving back to her side of the bed, her posture cold.
"Talk? About what exactly?"
He
ran his hand nervously through his spiked hair. "About us, about the baby."
Buffy
twisted around to face him, "I thought we'd talked about that already."
"Maybe
we didn't cover everything."
"What
else is there to cover? We both want this and now we can have it."
"It's
not quite as simple as that." Angel said quietly. "There are more important
issues that just what we want, Buffy."
"Is
this about what Gunn said?"
Angel
looked totally taken-aback by her comment at first then dropped his gaze away
from her and down to his hands. "Sort of," he admitted. "Gunn just pointed out
a few things that I should have realised anyway."
"Gunn's
a jerk." Buffy tried desperately. "You can't pay attention to anything he says.
He was just upset about Faith."
"No,"
Angel shook his head. "He was right. When-" he turned to Buffy and took her
hand. "When I'm with you I forget. The past seems further away, less focused,
as if it doesn't matter that much anymore. You make me feel human again, like
an ordinary man in love with an extraordinary woman."
Buffy
felt tears beginning to well in her eyes in response to Angel's speech and she
squeezed his hand.
"But,"
his voice became choked. "I can't forget – it's too dangerous. What happened
last time is proof enough of that." He referred to when he lost his soul on the
night of Buffy's seventeenth birthday. "I'm still a vampire whatever the other
circumstances, I still have the demon inside of me. I can't bring a child into
this world."
"Why
not?"
Angel
looked up at her in surprise and she held his gaze.
"Why
not?" Buffy repeated. "Give me one good reason."
"I'm
a vampire, isn't that reason enough."
She
shook her head. "Nope, still waiting for something better than that."
"What
if I lose control of the demon? What if I hurt the baby? What of I can't love
it properly?"
"Angel,"
Buffy smiled. "That's not going to happen. You have a greater capacity for love
than anyone else I know. And as for losing control, as long as you still have
your soul then you're fine and after all that magic that's been cast on it,
your soul's not going anywhere."
"But
I don't deserve this," he continued to protest in a depressed tone. "After all
the hurt and pain I've inflicted, I don't deserve to be this happy. How can I
expect a child to love me as their father after everything I've done?"
Buffy
closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again they were full of tears.
"You're such a beautiful, wonderful, kind person – how can anyone not love you?"
She spoke softly, punctuating her words with a delicate kiss to his lips. "This
isn't about the past, this is about the future. We have a chance, Angel – one
that we thought we never would. Please don't throw it away."
Angel
drew her into his arms and held her there for a long time, his face buried in
her hair. "This is what you want?" He asked eventually.
"This
is what I want with you." Buffy replied.
"Then
OK, alright. We should do this."
"You
sure?"
Angel
smiled slightly. "As I'll ever be."
Buffy
matched his smile with a broad grin of her own and leant over him to switch off
the bedside lamp. "Then we'd better pick up where we left of," she suggested
lightly.
He
tackled her roughly in the dark and after that all that could be heard was a
stream of happy giggles, giving way to whispered endearments and heavy sighs.
Then finally fading into silence, as the couple fell asleep in each other's
arms.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Is this even a real place?" Faith surveyed the inside of
the dingy social club. Smoke hung in the air in acrid blue tendrils and the
furniture was old and battered, but at least there was a bar at one end, which
was a definite plus point.
"N-no," Dennis answered her. "It's not a real place in the
sense that it exists on earth. It's a creation of t-the spirit world, which
we've nominated as our m-meeting place."
"You made up this place?" Faith asked incredulously. "You
could have picked anywhere in the world and you came up with this dump?
I knew you were a dweeb, but this exceeds even my expectations."
"Hey, Dennis!" A voice called out from across the room.
Faith turned to see a young man with thick, wire-framed glasses and buckteeth
materialise out of nowhere. "You actually brought a girl. Cool!"
Faith's mouth dropped open in abject horror. "That's it,"
she spun on her heel. "I'm out of here."
"B-but we only just arrived." Dennis protested.
"Oh, I think I've seen enough already." She answered. "This
kind of thing isn't exactly my scene."
"W-what
do y-you like to do then?"
Faith
looked around the room, her gaze settling on a table of middle-aged men in the
corner. "Anything that doesn't involve playing checkers and drinking root beer.
Let's just say I'm a lady who likes her alcoholic beverages to actually contain
alcohol."
Dennis
looked uncertain. "I suppose there is somewhere else we can go…"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Wesley sat engrossed in the first few pages of Faith's
first Watcher's diary. This was the third time he'd read it and he still
couldn't believe its contents and he was far from understanding what it meant –
there were several reference books he needed to consult before he thought he
could manage that. He wanted to be absolutely sure in his mind of all the facts
before he went to Angel with this information, especially considering the
sensitive nature of anything involving Faith now that Gunn had returned. Wesley
removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly, he wasn't sure if he could
cope with any more tragic revelations.
There was a light tap on his door, closely followed by
Cordelia striding in cheerfully.
"Working late again are we?" She asked brightly.
"Well, as you're so keen to remind me, we don't all have
your glittering social life." Wesley snapped back, then mentally kicked
himself. He hadn't meant that comment, he was just tired and stressed and
things had been so awkward between him and Cordelia recently that he no longer
knew how to act around her.
She seemed to almost
visibly recoil at his remark, the smile vanishing from her face to be replaced
by a hurt look, which only made Wesley feel worse.
"I'll just leave you to it then." She muttered, turning to
leave.
"No, wait Cordelia." He called after her. He desperately wanted
to make things right between them again. He realised with a jolt that she was
his best friend. Angel was too adept at keeping his distance from people to
ever be considered as such to anyone but Buffy. Although he respected Gunn
immensely, he thought that their personalities and backgrounds were too
diametrically opposite to ever allow them to be that close friends. And
paradoxically, despite Buffy being the same age as Cordelia, and in many ways
the more mature of the two, Wesley had never stopped seeing her as the teenager
he was once Watcher to and the tension from that time still lingered slightly
between them. And since Faith's death that was the extent of his social circle.
His work was his world and the people he worked with the only ones he cared
anything about. So, Cordelia was easily the most important person in his life
and it was only now that he had managed to mess up their relationship that he
finally got that.
He tried to think of something to say, something deep and
poignant that would express all these feelings, but he couldn't imagine ever
spilling his heart in such a frank way, especially to a woman who was married
to someone else. Instead he remembered the gift-wrapped parcel that now sat in
his desk drawer. Maybe a gesture would work better than words ever could.
"I-I know that's it's not your birthday yet," he began
hesitantly, reaching down to open the drawer. "And I was going to give this to
you at the party tomorrow, but I think you should have it now."
He awkwardly handed over the present and released a
relieved sigh when Cordelia's eyes lit up at the sight of the flat, oblong box.
"Can I open it now?" She asked with a shy smile.
Wesley just nodded, not trusting his voice.
She sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk,
laying the gift down on her knee as, with long, perfectly manicured nails, she
released the ribbons that bound the package shut. Cordy lifted the box lid and
separated the layers of tissue paper that protected the silk scarf inside.
Gently lifting the scarf out of the box, her mouth opened in a pleasantly
surprised gasp – she hadn't known Wesley had anywhere near as good taste as
this gift displayed. Certainly his own fashion sense belied the fact.
"It's beautiful," she breathed. She reached over the
desktop to grasp Wesley's hand. "Thank you."
"You really like it?"
She removed the scarf fully from the box and casually
draped it around her neck. Standing up, she did a little twirl to model the
accessory. "I love it!" Enthusiastically she kissed Wesley on the cheek and
drew him into a warm hug. Pulling away from him slightly, she met his eyes, her
happy smile gone and replaced with a more serious look. "I love it," she
repeated quietly.
With hardly a thought in his head except for the proximity
of Cordelia's body to his, the sweet, musky smell of her perfume and the warmth
of her breath on his face, Wesley leaned forward slightly to catch Cordy's lips
in a soft kiss. They stayed like that for neither knew how long, their lips
just touching, their bodies pressed together, each afraid to break the moment.
Finally Wesley realised he was holding his breath and moved away, sucking in a
lungful of badly needed air as he did so.
"I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, refusing to look Cordelia in
the eye.
She bit her lip nervously and held out a slightly trembling
hand to take hold of his.
"For what?" She asked.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Buffy knocked nervously on the motel room door, she wasn't
entirely sure why she was doing this – she just knew that she had to. She still
mourned Faith deeply, but life went on and Gunn had to realise that. Things
were finally beginning to come together for her and Angel; Buffy even thought that
for the first time in his life (barring unmentionable, soul-losing episodes) he
might actually be truly happy. Angel had spent the entire time he'd known Buffy
trying to protect her, trying to preserve what little joy she did find in her
life, and now it was her chance to return the favour. Gunn's emotional outburst
had clearly upset Angel, casting a dark cloud over the gift of life Tara had
given him. Buffy was here to try and chase away that cloud, to smooth things
over with Gunn, in order to try and make her new life with Angel as
problem-free as possible.
Maybe this was a selfish point of view – striving to ease
another's discomfort for the sole purpose of relieving her own – but at this
moment Buffy didn't really care about the morality of the act. She and Gunn had
never gotten along, and although she had endless sympathy for his position, it
wouldn't really bother her if she never saw the man again in her life. Her
concern for him was only for Angel's benefit, but at least that much was better
than no concern at all.
She knocked again, this time more forcefully and less than
a minute later the door swung open to reveal a very dishevelled looking Gunn.
His clothes looked like he had slept in them and his eyes were bloodshot and
red-rimmed. The sight shocked Buffy and suddenly she was struck with the
reality of his pain and her desire to help him became more than selfish in
nature. Gunn had lost the person he loved most in the world and Buffy of all
people knew how that felt. When she thought she had killed Angel she ran away,
just like Gunn had done in the wake of Faith's death. And back when Buffy was
seventeen Angel, although already in possession of her heart, wasn't nearly as
great a presence in her life as he was now. If she lost Angel now…she couldn't
bear to even think about it. She would self-destruct, lose all sense of meaning
in her life, and she probably wouldn't be able to cope with it anywhere near as
well as Gunn was coping right now.
A deep sense of empathy, and no small measure of pity,
filled Buffy as she stood facing the hostile stare of Gunn. She resolved right
then that she would do all that she could to help him though this, despite what
their personal differences had been in the past.
"How did you find me?" Gunn asked darkly, after his initial
surprise at seeing her had faded.
"I work as a Private Detective," Buffy answered. "Finding
people is part of the job description." She paused briefly. "Well, aren't you
going to invite me in?"
"Not until you tell me why you're here."
She sighed, she had known this was going to be hard, but
she had still hoped to be able to at least get through the door before the
hostilities began. "I thought we needed to talk," she replied patiently.
"About what?"
"About Faith, about whatever's bothering you so much…"
"Hey, if I wanted to talk to a psychotherapist then I'd go
call in one of those radio shows," he interrupted belligerently. "Now, just
leave me alone." He started to shut the door, but Buffy jammed her foot in it,
her Slayer strength easily competing with Gunn's half-hearted efforts to contest
her.
"Why have you never liked me?" Buffy asked outright. She
wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer to that, but she had the feeling
it was something Gunn probably needed to say.
"What the Hell?"
"No, really, tell me," she insisted. Maybe this was a topic
Gunn didn't mind talking about and one that would cut straight to the heart of
his argument with Angel, whilst also managing to take his mind off Faith.
"We've never gotten along right from the start, and I certainly tried hard
enough to be nice – so what is it about me that you hate so much?" Buffy cocked
her head to one side and challenged him to answer her question with a harsh
stare.
Gunn stared back for a long moment, then sensing Buffy wasn't
going to back down, he dropped the eye contact with her. He retreated back into
the room, dismissing Buffy as he did so. "Just get out of here, I don't want to
talk to you."
She followed him into the room and grabbed hold of his
shoulder. "Well, you're going to have to talk to somebody," she said
aggressively.
"Get out of my face," he yelled in return, shooting out his
hand to push Buffy away from him. She retaliated with a swift kick to his lower
jaw then while he was still disorientated Buffy twisted Gunn's arm around his
back and pinned him down on the bed.
"Now you can let me help you, or I can beat the crap out of
you," she spoke in a low, dangerous voice in his ear. "Which is it to be?"
"And you wonder why we don't get on," came Gunn's reply,
muffled by the bedclothes.
Buffy released her grip on him, allowing him to stand back
up. "I keep promising myself I'll find some solution for interpersonal
conflicts other than violence," she said with a grin. "I might even manage it
one day."
Gunn sat heavily down on the bed. "So, you really want to
know why I don't like you?" Buffy nodded in reply and he continued. "You're
Goddamn irritating."
She shrugged and perched next to him. "You're not exactly
Mr Congeniality yourself," she replied. "I was hoping for something a little
more insightful than that."
There was a long silence during which Buffy refused to
speak – she was going to get the answers out of Gunn if it killed her – or him
– in the process.
Finally Gunn issued his reply to the question, in a voice
that lacked all his bravado of earlier. "After you came everything changed."
"What everything? How do you mean changed?" She couldn't
resist asking.
"I mean the company – Angel Investigations," he clarified
in a sharp tone. "Before you arrived we were like a family. Then you turned up
and it was all 'Buffy this' and 'Buffy that'. Angel just stopped caring about
anything else but you."
Buffy was shocked by the comment – she had been expecting
some major slur on her character, not a reason as basic as jealousy. "That's
not true."
"Oh yeah," Gunn responded bitterly. "Then why did he hardly
pay any attention when Faith was ill and why doesn't he give a damn now she's
dead?"
"Angel does care," Buffy insisted. "He spent so much time
with Faith when she was sick and he was devastated when she died. But he has
his own life as well. Angel and I have been through a lot together – don't we
deserve a bit of happiness?"
"Sorry, I forgot. You're soulmates – you've got this big
dramatic love that nobody else could possibly match. Everyone else's feelings
aren't worth a damn compared to yours."
"Gunn," Buffy spoke softly this time, his pained words
reaching something inside of her. "Nobody denies how much you loved Faith. And
nobody's saying you don't have a right to grieve her either. Just please don't
do it alone. We want to help – Angel and me."
"How can you help?" He asked, his voice twisted with grief.
"You can't bring her back."
"No, but we can make you feel a little less alone."
There was a long silence following Buffy's words and she
took the absence of a hostile retort as evidence she was finally getting
through to him. "Come with us to Cordelia's birthday party tonight," she urged.
"If not for me or for Angel, for Cordy – she was really upset when you left."
There was another pause, but it was shorter this time and
Gunn was the one who ended it. "OK," he agreed with a sigh. "But if Queen C
complains I didn't get her a gift, then I'm outta there."
He swiftly slipped on a leather jacket and headed towards
the door, his back turned to the triumphant smile slowly spreading across
Buffy's face.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When Faith opened her eyes she and Dennis were standing
together in a dark alleyway – dark being the operative word. A total blackness
surrounded them in three directions, the only point of interest being the door
directly in front of them with the neon sign hung above it. A tall burly man
stood on guard by it, his arms folded in a defensive posture, his expression
one of bored contempt. Dennis edged closer to the man and spoke in a nervous
voice.
"W-we'd like t-two t-tickets, please."
The bouncer's lip curled up in amusement. "S-sorry," he
mocked. "We don't admit nerds."
Dennis' cheeks flamed bright red and Faith felt anger flare
up inside her. She strode forward aggressively, squaring up to the bouncer and
flashing him the threatening expression she had perfected during her time as a
rogue Slayer. "He's with me, sugar," she announced in a falsely sweet voice.
"'Kay?"
The man's eyes flicked between her and Dennis and Faith
could almost hear the sound of cogs whirring in his brain as he made the decision.
Eventually, he stepped aside and let them through into the club.
As soon as Faith passed through the door the heavy bass
beat of the music assailed her ears. She sensed the crowds of people packing
the large room before she saw them, individuals of all races, ages and dress
styles, all swaying in time to the music. Disco lighting flashed and all along
one wall was a long bar, which Faith made a beeline for. Now this was her sort
of place.
Grabbing Dennis' hand she crossed the room, threading her
way through the dancers. Bodies ground against her, greetings ranging from the
friendly, to the hostile, to the luridly suggestive were issued and she grinned
in return to each of them. She hadn't realised how much she missed being part
of a crowd until this moment. It was so satisfying to suddenly be noticed, be
acknowledged, to have other people reach out and touch her. This was a world
she truly belonged in, not just one she was stuck on the periphery of.
"I'll have a vodka," she demanded of the barman. "Straight
up."
"Sorry, we don't serve spirits." The guy replied then burst
out laughing at his own joke, obviously a very well used one. Faith just rolled
her eyes. "You're new here aren't you?" The barman continued.
"Yeah, first time. I'm Faith."
"Trey," he responded, holding out his hand to be shaken.
After the formality he set a glass down on the counter and it filled with the
clear alcohol, seemingly of its own accord. Faith picked it up and sniffed it
suspiciously. It smelt like vodka, which, considering vodka didn't exactly have
the most pungent of aromas, wasn't exactly saying much. Tentatively she tasted
a little bit of it and it burnt her tongue in the way characteristic of strong
liquor. The last of her reservations gone she swallowed the drink down in one,
revelling in the way the heat filled her stomach and seconds later brought a
pleasant rush to her head.
"Cool," she grinned broadly. "I'll take another please and
a diet coke for the lady," she indicated Dennis and winked at the barman. This
was going to be a good night, she decided, and a fantastic party.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Thank you! Thank you!" Cordelia squealed, hugging Buffy
tightly. The Slayer's eyebrows shot upwards and she flashed a desperate glance
in the direction of Angel, who looked wryly amused by the scene. Who knew that
something as innocuous as a pair of designer shoes could inspire such an
enthusiastic reaction?
"And now," Cordelia announced with great fanfare. "I have a
gift for you too."
"Oh, you shouldn't have," Buffy replied, accepting the
small, brightly wrapped package. After quickly ripping off the paper, her mouth
dropped open in surprise. "A pregnancy test," she tried to sound enthusiastic
but failed miserably – not that Cordelia noticed, however. "You really shouldn't
have."
"Go do it now!" Cordy urged her excitedly. "You can use the
bathroom down the hall."
"Great," Buffy muttered to Angel, as she trudged past him
further into the depths of Cordelia's huge home. "Just what I need – everyone
waiting anxiously for me to pee."
He smiled reassuringly then turned back to Cordelia who was
already occupied with other guests. Giving up on ever getting another minute of
Cordy's attention while there were still gifts to be unwrapped, he scanned the
room for other familiar faces, finally settling on Wesley and Gunn standing
together in the corner.
"Hey," Angel walked over to greet them.
Gunn nodded neutrally at him. "Hey, man."
"Ah, Angel," Wesley showed a slightly more enthusiastic
response. "I've been wanting to speak with you and Gunn together. I researched
the issues raised in the diary of Faith's first Watcher that Gunn managed to
procure and my findings were quite interesting." He cleared his throat. "If not
a little disturbing."
"How d'you mean?" Angel asked, curiously.
"Well, the diary made many references to Faith's parents,
who apparently were not of this earth."
"Yeah, that freaked me out too," Gunn interjected. "It
sounded like the guy was trying to say Faith was an alien."
"Not an alien, no." Wesley corrected. "But from another
dimension."
"Another dimension," echoed Angel sceptically.
"Yes, an alternative earth where society has evolved a
little differently. The diary entries made reference to Faith hailing from
I'Quiadia, a land terrorised by demons."
"You saying she's not human?" Gunn asked aggressively.
Wesley shook his head. "No, quite the opposite. She is
human, she just comes from another world, where, unlike in this reality, demons
are the dominant race and people are in the minority."
"So, what's she doing here?" Angel asked.
"Well, I researched all the information I could about
I'Quaidia and one prophecy stood out above the rest. A child of noble blood
will banish the demons from the land and release its people from their
enslavement."
"And you believe that Faith is this child?"
"Recent history of I'Quaidia speaks of demon attacks becoming
more frequent and more violent. Whereas before the human population lived
reasonably safely within walled cities, now even that existence is under
threat. Around 25 years ago demons assailed the royal palace, killing its
entire household. By some miracle of fate the Queen's baby daughter was spared.
The Council of the city believed that the baby was being targeted specifically,
because the demons were aware of the prophecy. They determined that the safest
thing for the child was to remove her to another dimension until she was old
enough to defend herself and return to fulfil the prophecy."
"But something went wrong," Angel prompted.
Wesley nodded. "Yes, the intention of the Council was that
the child should be located and returned to I'Quiadia on her eighteenth
birthday. But when they came in search of her she could not be found anywhere."
"Because she was in Sunnydale in a coma."
"Indeed," Wesley pushed his glasses nervously back up his
nose. "And here is where we get to the crux of the matter – Faith's Calling as
a Slayer. I think it was a mistake."
"A mistake?" Both Angel and Gunn exclaimed, astounded.
"Yes, clearly Faith was a very strong and important young
woman. She was imbued with a great about of power at her birth, and in this
dimension that makes her a perfect candidate for being a Slayer. So, when
Kendra died, she was automatically selected as the next Chosen One – a
perversion of her destiny – and everything spiralled out of control after
that."
"And now she's dead, and unable to fulfil the prophecy."
Angel finished.
Wesley flashed him a regretful look. "The phrase 'oh dear'
does seem to spring to mind."
A long silence stretched between the three men as Wesley's
revelations began to sink in. Their moment of contemplation was broken,
however, by Buffy bounding over, a slightly stunned look on her face. She
grabbed hold of Angel and kissed him squarely on the lips.
"It's blue!" She announced enthusiastically, waving the
test stick in the air. "That means positive, right? I can't believe it – I'm pregnant!
We're actually going to have a baby!"
Angel just gaped at her then turned to look over at Wesley
and Gunn whose faces wore matching expressions of shock. Gunn was first to
recover himself, however, and he grinned broadly at Angel, moving to slap him
on the back.
"Congratulations, man."
"Thanks," Angel muttered distractedly. "I think I'm going
to have to sit down."
There was a loud thump, the unmistakeable sound of a heavy object
hitting the floor, as, for the first time in over two and a half centuries of
existence, Angel fainted.
THE END
A/N ~ Thanks for reading folks and I promise to hurry up
with the next instalment!