Title: Unity (New Life- pt 21)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Yes, please
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.
Summary: Buffy and Spike are now parents. There are some major adjustments to make.
Unity
Buffy yawned, pulling herself up on her elbows. Her eyes were heavy and the room was still dark, but she could see the faint colours of the dawn seeping into her room. He was standing by the window, shoulder leaning against the frame, looking out at the purplish orange horizon. "Spike?" Her voice was quiet, but strong. Spike turned to face her, the baby snuggled into the crook of one elbow.
"You're awake," he said quietly. "Thought I'd give you a little while
longer," he continued, walking to the bed. "Seems she got a little fussy and I just thought..."
"It's fine, Spike," Buffy answered. "She's yours too,"
Spike wasn't quite sure what to say. The whole thing was so overwhelming. What he did know was that standing there, looking at the sunrise and holding his daughter, somehow felt... right. Slowly, he sat down next to Buffy on the bed. "Unfortunately, I don't think I am equipped to give her what she needs, " he said, handing her back to Buffy.
"Ah," Buffy answered. "Yeah, I'm pretty hungry myself."
"What do you want, Love?" he asked, sliding his palm against her cheek.
She pressed her face against his hand, closed her eyes and felt his thumb trace her cheekbone. I could get used to this, she thought. She let her eyes flicker back open as her hunger began to seize control of her stomach.
"Food," she answered, looking back at him. "Any food. Food flavored food."
Spike chuckled. "I can probably manage something," he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek softly. She turned her face so her lips caught his. His warmth was so foreign to her, but his touch still melted her completely. "Be back in a bit, Pet." She nodded softly as he opened the door and let it click softly shut behind him.
*****
Spike walked down the stairs in a haze of exhaustion and happiness that he wasn't sure he had ever felt in his life. It had all come crashing in at once. His life. Buffy's. Emma's. It was terrifying and wonderful in the same instant.
The living room had become a slumber party. Giles was asleep in his chair, head lolling sideways into the deep sides of the recliner. Anya and Xander were leaned against each other, propped along the wall as if they had frozen in time. Dawn and Tara were curled around each other like kitten and cat on the couch. It seemed everyone had found peace.
All but one.
Spike picked his way quietly through the living room to the kitchen. Willow sat alone at the counter, sipping at a steaming mug. She jumped at the sound of his boots against the linoleum.
"S'alright, Red," he said quietly, making his way over to the fridge.
"Scared me a little," she answered nervously. "Buffy hungry?" As she
spoke, she stood, pulling her jacket off of the table next to her and
stretching herself into it slowly.
"Yeah," he answered, scanning the refrigerator then letting it swing shut in frustration. "Nothing worth eating round here tonight."
"She likes peanut butter," Willow whispered, walking toward the kitchen
door. "Second cupboard from the left. Middle shelf. Bread's on the
counter."
"Uh, thanks," Spike responded, grabbing a plate and rustling through the
cabinets for the makings.
"Don't think Giles had time to go shopping."
"I'll take care of it," Spike answered with frost in his voice. He wasn't quite sure how, exactly, he planned on taking care of it. The realization hit him like a brick. Willow looked down, taking the tone as another indictment against her.
Willow grabbed the doorknob, her face wracked with guilt and tears. "I..I'm going to go ahead and go now. I don't ... belong here." The door clicked open quietly.
"Red, wait," Spike said, setting the jar of peanut butter and the knife
back on the counter. He walked toward the door and she cringed a little. Not so much from him. It was the learned reaction of someone afraid of everything in the world. He came towards her still.
"Wha..what? I know I need to go. I promise you I won't bother you
anymore." Tears streamed down the girl's face.
"You don't have to go," Spike said, gently taking her hand from the
doorknob. He turned her hand over in his palm, noticing the jagged red
scars across her wrist. His thumb traced the lines and he was shocked by the feelings of desperation and sadness that he felt just from touching her.
Spike thought for a long moment. "Red," he began "Your debts are cleared
with me."
"But I....I killed you. And I hurt Buffy. And everyone else..."
"Well, I can't pretend to speak for those wankers," Spike said, nodding into the living room, "but I've learned a bit bout forgiveness. God knows I didn't deserve it." Willow was shaking, still crying. It hurt Spike to even look at her. He knew where she was. He had felt that in the graveyard in hell. Somewhere, he had felt it always. "Red, you did wrong by me. But you just saved Buffy and my little girl. So we're even. You don't owe me a sodding red cent." Spike let go of Willow's hand and headed back towards the sandwiches. She stood still next to the door. Not moving to sit again, but not moving to leave either.
"Want one?" Spike asked, " Mean, while I'm up..."
"Nah," Willow answered, tentatively stepping toward the chair.
"Little hungry myself," he noticed, patting his stomach and feeling the
hunger spread through his veins. Not the hunger for spicy wings either.
Guess some things never change. Willow must have noticed his look.
"Blood?" the witch asked, quietly.
"Think a little PB&J will tide me over," he answered, licking his fingers and closing the jar. Willow stepped back toward the door, pulling her jacket around her.
"Where you going? Told you you are welcome to stay here," Spike said, as Willow grabbed the door again. The girl smiled faintly.
"I'm just heading to the butcher shop. Owe you that much at least. I'm
sure you don't really want to leave right now," Willow answered.
"No," Spike answered. "I don't want to go anywhere. That'd be fine, Red. In the meantime, I think its you that needs to work on forgiving."
Willow looked at Spike with tired eyes. As he walked from the room she
thought to herself that she felt a little bit OK for the first time in a
very long time. Funny thing is, the same thought occurred to Spike.
*****
The door opened softly. The lamp was glowing by the table, but a little bit of sun was starting to peak into the room. Buffy was sitting up, the baby resting in the crook of her right arm, a blanket pulled up to her neck. It took Spike a second to realize that it was breakfast time all around.
He sat the plate on the table next to the bed. "Didn't tell me it was going to be a buffet," Spike joked. "No fair," he whispered, his breath blowing into her ear. She closed her eyes and hummed softly.
"Not for a long time, Spike," she remarked, grabbing a sandwich with her
free hand. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her, pressing his lips softly to hers instead. "OK, some time," she muttered, her mouth still against his. He kissed her again with a little more fire. "Short time," she whispered breathlessly, "Slayer healing short." Her mouth drowned in his, melting, searing, becoming one.
Finally, he moved away, pushing the sandwich to her mouth. "Didn't want you to taste like peanut butter," he said as she took an enormous bite.
"Oh, and you didn't?" she laughed, her mouth full. He sat down on the bed next to her. The baby shifted and gurgled then went back to her mission.
"Good to see you laugh again, Pet," Spike commented, his hand fiddling with the edge of the blanket.
"Good to be able to," she answered, polishing off the first sandwich in
record time and grabbing the glass of water he had brought for her earlier.
Now's as good a time as any, he thought.
"I got... I brought you something, Love," Spike said softly, digging around in his pocket and grabbing hold of his past.
"Prezzies?" she exclaimed, gleefully.
"Got to be All.About.You.," he joked. She smirked at him. "But if you
*must* know, yes." His hand was closed around it, clenched in a fist, held against her legs.
"And?" she asked impatiently. "You know, presentation is half the..." Her words cut off as he opened his hand. She looked down at the beautiful, shiny ring and her heart stopped.
"It's a moonstone," Spike said. "Was my mum's. Kept it round because.. I dunno... but I would say I was offering you the family jewels but seems to me you've had *those* since we met..."
"Spike, I..." Buffy stuttered. What was he thinking? What did this mean? What was this supposed to mean?
"Just trying to make an honest woman outta ya," he said in that patented
Spike-is-being-snarky tone.
Buffy stared at the ring. Reached out and turned it over in his palm and watched the light dance over it. The stone changed colours at every angle. It reminded her a little of his eyes. It was truly beautiful.
But what did it mean?
"Spike, I... I'm not sure... why you want to give me this," Buffy stuttered. " I mean, it must mean a lot to you if it was your mother's."
"I'd like to think she'd approve," Spike answered, looking up as if she
might just be there.
"I'm not.." She was so torn. Half of her wanted to just take it and never question anything again. The other half was terrified of what it meant. She loved him. They were connected always through Emma. But there was so much still. So many questions. Details. Things to work through. Vampire. Breathing, heartbeat-y Vampire. Slayer. Mommy Slayer. Torn.
"Buffy," Spike said, reading the confused look on her face. "The beauty of it is that you can take it any way you want to. That part's up to you whenever you suss it all out. I'm giving it to you as a promise. I promise to love you and that I'll keep loving you, God help me, until the world implodes." Buffy chuckled quietly. "I promise that I'll be there for you. For Emma. Always."
"Every day," she whispered.
"Every day," he repeated. "And I promised that no matter hard you push me, I won't leave."
Buffy bit her lip. That was all she ever wanted, really. All she needed. She could feel the tears come streaming down her cheeks. And she could feel him raise his hand to her face and brush them away with more tenderness than her heart could bear.
"Can you accept that, Love?" he asked her, his palm still cupped over her cheek.
"Yes," Buffy answered, quietly. "Thank you." Spike kissed her nose gently, then settled back down on the bed next to her.
"Well, give me a hand then," Spike said, all business. Buffy thought for a moment. She could shift around, as the baby was finished and sleeping quietly. But instead she stuck out her left hand.
"It's free," she said, smiling slyly.
"Ah, that it?" Spike responded, his heart nearly exploding with happiness.
"I can always switch it later," Buffy said as he slid it on her ring finger. It sparkled and glowed in iridescent beauty as soon as it touched her skin. "But I won't," she mumbled under her breath.
"What was that, Pet?" Spike asked, leaning in closer to her face.
"Don't let it go to your bleached head," she quipped, just as his lips
caught hers and melted her into him again. One.
to be contd.
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Yes, please
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.
Summary: Buffy and Spike are now parents. There are some major adjustments to make.
Unity
Buffy yawned, pulling herself up on her elbows. Her eyes were heavy and the room was still dark, but she could see the faint colours of the dawn seeping into her room. He was standing by the window, shoulder leaning against the frame, looking out at the purplish orange horizon. "Spike?" Her voice was quiet, but strong. Spike turned to face her, the baby snuggled into the crook of one elbow.
"You're awake," he said quietly. "Thought I'd give you a little while
longer," he continued, walking to the bed. "Seems she got a little fussy and I just thought..."
"It's fine, Spike," Buffy answered. "She's yours too,"
Spike wasn't quite sure what to say. The whole thing was so overwhelming. What he did know was that standing there, looking at the sunrise and holding his daughter, somehow felt... right. Slowly, he sat down next to Buffy on the bed. "Unfortunately, I don't think I am equipped to give her what she needs, " he said, handing her back to Buffy.
"Ah," Buffy answered. "Yeah, I'm pretty hungry myself."
"What do you want, Love?" he asked, sliding his palm against her cheek.
She pressed her face against his hand, closed her eyes and felt his thumb trace her cheekbone. I could get used to this, she thought. She let her eyes flicker back open as her hunger began to seize control of her stomach.
"Food," she answered, looking back at him. "Any food. Food flavored food."
Spike chuckled. "I can probably manage something," he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek softly. She turned her face so her lips caught his. His warmth was so foreign to her, but his touch still melted her completely. "Be back in a bit, Pet." She nodded softly as he opened the door and let it click softly shut behind him.
*****
Spike walked down the stairs in a haze of exhaustion and happiness that he wasn't sure he had ever felt in his life. It had all come crashing in at once. His life. Buffy's. Emma's. It was terrifying and wonderful in the same instant.
The living room had become a slumber party. Giles was asleep in his chair, head lolling sideways into the deep sides of the recliner. Anya and Xander were leaned against each other, propped along the wall as if they had frozen in time. Dawn and Tara were curled around each other like kitten and cat on the couch. It seemed everyone had found peace.
All but one.
Spike picked his way quietly through the living room to the kitchen. Willow sat alone at the counter, sipping at a steaming mug. She jumped at the sound of his boots against the linoleum.
"S'alright, Red," he said quietly, making his way over to the fridge.
"Scared me a little," she answered nervously. "Buffy hungry?" As she
spoke, she stood, pulling her jacket off of the table next to her and
stretching herself into it slowly.
"Yeah," he answered, scanning the refrigerator then letting it swing shut in frustration. "Nothing worth eating round here tonight."
"She likes peanut butter," Willow whispered, walking toward the kitchen
door. "Second cupboard from the left. Middle shelf. Bread's on the
counter."
"Uh, thanks," Spike responded, grabbing a plate and rustling through the
cabinets for the makings.
"Don't think Giles had time to go shopping."
"I'll take care of it," Spike answered with frost in his voice. He wasn't quite sure how, exactly, he planned on taking care of it. The realization hit him like a brick. Willow looked down, taking the tone as another indictment against her.
Willow grabbed the doorknob, her face wracked with guilt and tears. "I..I'm going to go ahead and go now. I don't ... belong here." The door clicked open quietly.
"Red, wait," Spike said, setting the jar of peanut butter and the knife
back on the counter. He walked toward the door and she cringed a little. Not so much from him. It was the learned reaction of someone afraid of everything in the world. He came towards her still.
"Wha..what? I know I need to go. I promise you I won't bother you
anymore." Tears streamed down the girl's face.
"You don't have to go," Spike said, gently taking her hand from the
doorknob. He turned her hand over in his palm, noticing the jagged red
scars across her wrist. His thumb traced the lines and he was shocked by the feelings of desperation and sadness that he felt just from touching her.
Spike thought for a long moment. "Red," he began "Your debts are cleared
with me."
"But I....I killed you. And I hurt Buffy. And everyone else..."
"Well, I can't pretend to speak for those wankers," Spike said, nodding into the living room, "but I've learned a bit bout forgiveness. God knows I didn't deserve it." Willow was shaking, still crying. It hurt Spike to even look at her. He knew where she was. He had felt that in the graveyard in hell. Somewhere, he had felt it always. "Red, you did wrong by me. But you just saved Buffy and my little girl. So we're even. You don't owe me a sodding red cent." Spike let go of Willow's hand and headed back towards the sandwiches. She stood still next to the door. Not moving to sit again, but not moving to leave either.
"Want one?" Spike asked, " Mean, while I'm up..."
"Nah," Willow answered, tentatively stepping toward the chair.
"Little hungry myself," he noticed, patting his stomach and feeling the
hunger spread through his veins. Not the hunger for spicy wings either.
Guess some things never change. Willow must have noticed his look.
"Blood?" the witch asked, quietly.
"Think a little PB&J will tide me over," he answered, licking his fingers and closing the jar. Willow stepped back toward the door, pulling her jacket around her.
"Where you going? Told you you are welcome to stay here," Spike said, as Willow grabbed the door again. The girl smiled faintly.
"I'm just heading to the butcher shop. Owe you that much at least. I'm
sure you don't really want to leave right now," Willow answered.
"No," Spike answered. "I don't want to go anywhere. That'd be fine, Red. In the meantime, I think its you that needs to work on forgiving."
Willow looked at Spike with tired eyes. As he walked from the room she
thought to herself that she felt a little bit OK for the first time in a
very long time. Funny thing is, the same thought occurred to Spike.
*****
The door opened softly. The lamp was glowing by the table, but a little bit of sun was starting to peak into the room. Buffy was sitting up, the baby resting in the crook of her right arm, a blanket pulled up to her neck. It took Spike a second to realize that it was breakfast time all around.
He sat the plate on the table next to the bed. "Didn't tell me it was going to be a buffet," Spike joked. "No fair," he whispered, his breath blowing into her ear. She closed her eyes and hummed softly.
"Not for a long time, Spike," she remarked, grabbing a sandwich with her
free hand. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her, pressing his lips softly to hers instead. "OK, some time," she muttered, her mouth still against his. He kissed her again with a little more fire. "Short time," she whispered breathlessly, "Slayer healing short." Her mouth drowned in his, melting, searing, becoming one.
Finally, he moved away, pushing the sandwich to her mouth. "Didn't want you to taste like peanut butter," he said as she took an enormous bite.
"Oh, and you didn't?" she laughed, her mouth full. He sat down on the bed next to her. The baby shifted and gurgled then went back to her mission.
"Good to see you laugh again, Pet," Spike commented, his hand fiddling with the edge of the blanket.
"Good to be able to," she answered, polishing off the first sandwich in
record time and grabbing the glass of water he had brought for her earlier.
Now's as good a time as any, he thought.
"I got... I brought you something, Love," Spike said softly, digging around in his pocket and grabbing hold of his past.
"Prezzies?" she exclaimed, gleefully.
"Got to be All.About.You.," he joked. She smirked at him. "But if you
*must* know, yes." His hand was closed around it, clenched in a fist, held against her legs.
"And?" she asked impatiently. "You know, presentation is half the..." Her words cut off as he opened his hand. She looked down at the beautiful, shiny ring and her heart stopped.
"It's a moonstone," Spike said. "Was my mum's. Kept it round because.. I dunno... but I would say I was offering you the family jewels but seems to me you've had *those* since we met..."
"Spike, I..." Buffy stuttered. What was he thinking? What did this mean? What was this supposed to mean?
"Just trying to make an honest woman outta ya," he said in that patented
Spike-is-being-snarky tone.
Buffy stared at the ring. Reached out and turned it over in his palm and watched the light dance over it. The stone changed colours at every angle. It reminded her a little of his eyes. It was truly beautiful.
But what did it mean?
"Spike, I... I'm not sure... why you want to give me this," Buffy stuttered. " I mean, it must mean a lot to you if it was your mother's."
"I'd like to think she'd approve," Spike answered, looking up as if she
might just be there.
"I'm not.." She was so torn. Half of her wanted to just take it and never question anything again. The other half was terrified of what it meant. She loved him. They were connected always through Emma. But there was so much still. So many questions. Details. Things to work through. Vampire. Breathing, heartbeat-y Vampire. Slayer. Mommy Slayer. Torn.
"Buffy," Spike said, reading the confused look on her face. "The beauty of it is that you can take it any way you want to. That part's up to you whenever you suss it all out. I'm giving it to you as a promise. I promise to love you and that I'll keep loving you, God help me, until the world implodes." Buffy chuckled quietly. "I promise that I'll be there for you. For Emma. Always."
"Every day," she whispered.
"Every day," he repeated. "And I promised that no matter hard you push me, I won't leave."
Buffy bit her lip. That was all she ever wanted, really. All she needed. She could feel the tears come streaming down her cheeks. And she could feel him raise his hand to her face and brush them away with more tenderness than her heart could bear.
"Can you accept that, Love?" he asked her, his palm still cupped over her cheek.
"Yes," Buffy answered, quietly. "Thank you." Spike kissed her nose gently, then settled back down on the bed next to her.
"Well, give me a hand then," Spike said, all business. Buffy thought for a moment. She could shift around, as the baby was finished and sleeping quietly. But instead she stuck out her left hand.
"It's free," she said, smiling slyly.
"Ah, that it?" Spike responded, his heart nearly exploding with happiness.
"I can always switch it later," Buffy said as he slid it on her ring finger. It sparkled and glowed in iridescent beauty as soon as it touched her skin. "But I won't," she mumbled under her breath.
"What was that, Pet?" Spike asked, leaning in closer to her face.
"Don't let it go to your bleached head," she quipped, just as his lips
caught hers and melted her into him again. One.
to be contd.