Twelve: TO LOVE AND TO CHERISH
Weeks had passed since the baby was born and although she was (for the most part) back to "normal", Buffy found she just hadn't regained her strength. She'd spoken with her doctor about it, but Doctor Brandt seemed satisfied with her progress.
Yeah, but I'm talking about superhuman Slayer strength, she thought, frustrated.
Spike shared her concern. He knew that Buffy was getting restless having been away from slaying for months, but he could tell from training with her that she was in no condition to be out fighting vampires and the like: Buffy was weak. They were both convinced it had to be than more than simply the fatigue from too many sleepless nights up with a newborn. Since Buffy was the only person they knew experiencing the problem, however, they concluded it must be connected to the pregnancy in some way.
------- o -------
Giles was coming to celebrate Christmas with the extended Summers family. He looked forward to seeing the "Scooby Gang" but especially his dear Buffy and her child.
"Hello Rupert?" Spike's voice came through the receiver one December morning.
"Spike?" Giles inquired somewhat stunned by the caller. Like Buffy, Giles was never able to make the change to call him "William".
"Yeah. It's me." With a huff, Spike asked, "Wondered if you could do a little research before you come out for the festive season."
"What did you need to know?" he replied bewildered.
"It's rather to do with Buffy. She's not been quite herself since our Jack was born," explained Spike, trying to sound nonchalant but suspecting his distress would be audible in his voice.
"I see," Giles acknowledged.
"Thought you could look up past Slayers and their post-pregnancy experiences."
"Oh certainly, Spike," Giles agreed then cautioned, "though I can't actually say I know of any previous Slayers who've had children after being Called."
"Didn't s'pose you would," Spike said gravely. "If you can think of any other theories for the weakness, I'd appreciate that just the same."
Giles attempted optimism, "Of course. I'll see what I can come up with."
"Rupert... she really is worried," stressed Spike. "She mentioned something about the 'last time' this happened. Said she felt helpless. Almost got herself killed. You know anything about that?" he asked. "Could this the same thing again?"
Spike had, without realizing it, brought up a sore point in Giles' past with Buffy. Just before her 18th birthday in order to perform the required "Cruciamentum" (the traditional test for Slayers who managed to achieve the milestone), Giles had actually been poisoning his Slayer, severely impairing her strength and coordination. Ashamed by his part in the barbaric ritual and worried for the girl for whom even then he felt a father's love, Giles told Buffy what was happening to her and why. Needless to say, she felt angry, betrayed... violated; her trust in Giles was shattered, and that knowledge crushed him.
"Rupert? You still there?" Spike queried.
Giles snapped back to their conversation. "Oh... Spike. Yes, I'm... yes. I'm here," he stammered. "And no, I am quite certain Buffy's problems are not the result of the same... factors as the time to which she's alluded."
Hoping for something encouraging he could pass along to Buffy, Spike pressed, "So we're still guessing then?"
"I'm afraid so."
Spike's voice was low and discouraged: "Well, do the best you can."
"Right then. See you in a few weeks. Please, do give my love to Buffy and Jack," requested Giles sincerely.
------- o -------
The day Giles arrived from England, Spike made a point of picking him up at the airport. Buffy didn't over-analyse the gesture because Spike had been quite insistent about doing alot of things lately.
"Oi! Rupert," Spike called as Giles exited the passenger gate.
They exchanged an awkward embrace, much as they had years earlier when they believed they were father and son as a result of Willow's forget spell fiasco.
"Welcome home."
Once they were in the car, Spike could no longer contain his anxiety. "So tell me, Rupert, what have you learned about previous Slayers with kiddies?"
Giles took a deep breath and removed his glasses. "Well Spike. I'm afraid it's as I suspected. While there have been Slayers who already had children when they were Called, Buffy is indeed the first Slayer on record to actually bear a child. As you know, it's... a dangerous vocation and most Slayers die very young."
A guilty feeling struck Spike: Yes, I seem to recall being the cause of death for a Slayer or two.
"It's rare for them to actually have any friends at all and as for-" Giles cleared his throat. "-male companionship... well, only a very few identified were known to have been pregnant. None of them survived to bring their babies to term." He finished bleakly.
"I've always known our Buffy was something special," Spike put on a positive spin.
Spike's choice of the word "our" seemed to perk Giles up. "Indeed. Tell me, what exactly seems to be the trouble. You'd mentioned she'd not gotten her strength back?"
"Her Slayer strength," Spike clarified. "Oh sure, she gets about well enough. Tad rusty with some of her moves, but s'pose 'major abdominal surgery' will do that," he paraphrased the doctor's response to their concern about Buffy's mobility a couple of weeks after the birth. "She is getting better on that score every day, though. Now I'm not sayin' she's weak as a kitten; she's got the strength of just about any woman her age. But you of all people know she's not like any other woman."
"Yes, well then. We shall have to do a few tests. I don't suppose you've mentioned my research to Buffy." Knowingly, Giles words came out more as a statement than a question.
"In a word, 'no'. Was hopin' you'd come up with some straight-forward explanation and we'd be able to say in a couple of days or weeks, whatever, everything would be 'right as rain'."
------- o -------
They arrived home to find Buffy asleep on the couch with baby Jack nestled beside her.
With a care that astounded Giles, Spike lifted the swaddled baby and handed the bundle to him. "There you are, my Jack. This is your mum's dear old 'Giles'."
Before Giles could take offence to "old", he was further taken aback by the gentleness with which Spike swept Buffy's tiny sleeping form up in his arms. She barely stirred.
"Rupert. I'm just going to tuck the Slayer here into bed. I'll not be a minute."
As Spike went upstairs, the baby roused. Instinctively, Giles began to rock and sing a soothing tune as he looked into Jack's green eyes. There he saw the dear girl who'd become a daughter to him. He couldn't imagine that any real grandfather could be prouder than he was, holding Buffy's son.
------- o -------
Christmas morning, Buffy awoke early --- as mothers with wee babes are apt to do whether they want to or not, even when it's not Christmas --- with her beloved Spike asleep next to her and baby Jack in his bassinet by the bed whimpering to be fed. Our baby, Spike, she thought blissfully as she picked Jack up and carried him to the rocker Xander made for them. As she suckled her baby --- a baby she never dreamed she'd live to have --- Buffy shed a tear of joy at this life she'd won. If she hadn't been Called, none of this would be real.
Sure, relationships had suffered and there was alot about being the Slayer she'd be happy to forget (primarily the actual slaying). Her parents might have stayed together without the strain of a trouble-making teen that burns down school gymnasiums... but maybe not. Her mother would probably still have died from the aneurysm following the brain tumour, but since they wouldn't have moved to Sunnydale, Buffy would have had none but her shallow L.A. friends with whom to share her pain; Willow and Xander wouldn't have been a part of her life.
Without her Calling, she would never have met Giles, who, in spite of his gentle demeanour, had been such a powerful influence on her life. Monks would never have sent the "Key" to her for protection, so she would never have known Dawn's love --- or her own love of Dawn's cheesecake.
I could have done without that, she supposed after pondering the dozen or so extra pounds she couldn't seem to lose since the baby was born. Glancing at the sleeping form in her bed, she chuckled. Someone doesn't mind those extra pounds though. In her head, she could see Spike's lascivious scans of her swollen bosom and the extra curviness of her posterior.
And of course, had Buffy not been the "Vampire Slayer", she never would have met vampires Angel, her first love, or Spike, the love of her life, without whom she'd not have their little fuzzy-flaxen-haired boy.
"Ouch! Geez Jack. Go easy," she scolded gently as she broke the tight vacuum he had on her now very sore nipple. As she shifted him to her other side, and he began to feed again, Buffy settled back into her reflection.
------- o -------
Giles found himself staying in the baby's room while in Sunnydale --- a significant improvement over the couch he'd slept on years before.
There had been a number of changes in the sleeping arrangements in the house over the past half dozen years. Buffy and Spike were now in the master bedroom. Together they'd stripped layers of wallpaper and repainted the walls and ceiling in soft earthy greens. A large Persian rug covered the restored hardwood flooring: a reminder of their trysts in the "good old days".
Willow had moved to Buffy's room and stayed for several months before finding a place of her own and really getting her life back. The striped paper and butterflies gave way to a mottled paint finish in cream and taupe. Touches of brick red and black wrought iron highlighted the room, which was now Dawn's. When she found out the baby was on the way, Dawn gave up her room. She'd suggested putting the baby in the room closer theirs would make things easier for Buffy and Spike. Truthfully, she simply wanted the more sophisticated retreat Willow had created.
Dawn's former room was now little Jack's. Giles was quite at ease in the space that Spike had painted in a greyed-down deep sky blue and accented with coordinating blue and olive green plaid paper and fabrics.
Giles was reviewing his notes for the tests they would need to perform to get some insight into why Buffy hadn't regained her Slayer strength. Though certain it would have been easier for him had Spike told his wife what he'd asked of Giles, Giles believed Buffy would be reasonable in allowing him to investigate their concerns.
"Enough of this man," he said to himself. "It's Christmas, for pity's sake." He went to his suitcase and pulled out a bag of gifts, then headed downstairs.
------- o -------
Dawn was in the kitchen pulling fresh muffins from the oven when Giles came down. He set the bag in the living room near the tree then continued through to greet the young woman.
"Good morning, Dawn. What is that glorious smell?"
Setting the tins on the counter, she replied, "Muffins. I've got Apple Spice or Honey Bran. Do you want one?"
"That would be lovely, but I would murder for a cup of-"
"Tea, Giles?" Buffy stood in the doorway, smiling. She held a brightly wrapped cubic box in her hand, which she brought to him. "Merry Christmas."
"Ah yes. And Happy Christmas to you, Buffy dear." He fumbled a little with the gift and attempted to go retrieve his present for her.
"Giles, please. Just sit down and open it." She nodded to the parcel.
Carefully tearing the paper and lifting the lid off the box, he pulled out a small taupe teapot with two tiny green footprints on either side.
"I took Jack over to one of those paint-your-own-pottery places," Buffy explained shyly. "I hope you like it."
"It's lovely, Buffy," he said with tears welling in is eyes as he rose to hug her.
------- o -------
In the evening, while Xander and Willow did dishes in the kitchen and Dawn finished clearing up the leftovers, Spike, Giles and Buffy sat admiring the angelic sleeping baby in the middle of the sea of gift boxes and torn paper which remained since they'd all finished opening presents just after noon.
"Buffy-luv," Spike interjected into the peace as he squeezed his dozing wife's hand. "Rupert and I wanted to talk to you about... about the troubles you've been having. Not getting your strength back and all."
"Oh?"
"Yes, dear. Spike tells me your doctor hasn't provided any medical explanation?" Giles coaxed.
"No. She seems to think I'm perfectly healthy," said Buffy, "thinks our little Jack is the cause of the fatigue."
"Yes, well..." Giles looked to Spike.
Feeling pressured, Spike explained, "I asked Rupert here to do a little research. See what he could find out about possible causes for your weakness."
"And did you find anything Giles?" a hopeful Buffy inquired. "Is this another demon thing? How do we stop it? Just say the word-"
"Now Buffy. I haven't been able to attribute the cause to any dark force per se," Giles replied, "but I should like to do some tests."
"What kind of tests?" asked Buffy apprehensively.
"The first is quite simple, really," Giles assured. "We'll draw a little of your blood and combine it with some herbs and things-"
"Gee Rupert, why couldn't you have suggested something like years ago," Spike joked, reflecting how much he'd have loved a "Slayer cocktail" in his vampire days.
The other two were not amused.
Giles continued. "There's a ritual-"
"There's always a ritual," Buffy noted sardonically.
"Quite," the man nodded. "And depending on the outcome of that test, I should have a better idea with what we are dealing... Shall we get on with it then? I've got the supplies upstairs in my bag."
------- o -------
The others had joined the three in the living room and were sitting in wide-eyed wonder watching the scene unfold. First, Spike carefully swabbed Buffy's arm then drew the required blood with the syringe Giles provided. Meanwhile, in an old rough clay dish, Giles crushed a variety of dried herbs then he slowly added the drawn blood while chanting. When he'd finished adding the blood, Giles took out a small dried cactus "rain-stick" and held it vertically over the dish. Finishing the chant, he closed his eyes and began to over-turn the stick allowing all the tiny seeds inside to tumble down. The gentle sound of rain filled the silence. Once. Twice. Three times he turned the stick. Then he opened his eyes.
They all sat staring at the dish. Still staring. Still- Oh! A quiet sizzle; a tiny puff of smoke.
"Ah... Giles?" Xander broke the silence. "Is that it?"
"Yeah Giles," added Willow, "What's supposed to happen?"
They all looked at the man curiously.
Glancing about with a raised eyebrow, Giles removed his glasses.
"Oh great," Buffy muttered, "Now what's the problem."
"Oh... right. Well then. Buffy, I'm not exactly sure how to tell you this..." he said hesitantly and with a tone of some surprise, "but it would appear that you..."
"Yes?!" they all pressed.
"You seem to have been released from your Calling," said Giles plainly.
Unclear as to what Giles intended, Buffy inquired, "What do you mean 'released'?"
"Well dear. This is really rather... remarkable. While I had hypothesized the cause of your weakness, indeed I've no knowledge of any precedent for this," the man began to ramble. "I'm certain the Council will be interested in investigating this further or at very least making a full account of it for their records. Of course, there's nothing to say you have to-"
"For God's sake, Rupert," a frustrated Spike interrupted. "Could you bl-oody well get to the bl-eeding point?!"
"Well, it appears as though the reason Buffy hasn't regained her strength is simply because she's no longer the Slayer. I can't say for certain why, but it would seem that motherhood has released her from her duty. One could certainly say that she has new responsibilities. Perhaps this is her reward for her years of service," Giles proposed. "Thirteen- almost fourteen years as the Slayer is an astounding time. Buffy, you've outlived your next closest 'colleague' by more than five years."
"I don't understand," stated a shocked Buffy.
"I'm not certain I do either, Buffy," Giles supported, "but perhaps we don't have to understand. After all, we don't really know why you were chosen in the first place... only that it was prophesied. Truly there is a lot the Council still doesn't know about the essence of the Slayer."
"Well, I think we should all just consider ourselves lucky that you're not going to have to risk your life any more," Dawn declared.
"Here-here Bit," seconded Spike.
"I think this is cause for a toast," Willow said. "Xander, could you give me a hand in the kitchen?"
A stunned Buffy got up and, staring blindly, walked into the hall.
Spike quickly followed behind her. "What is it, luv?"
"Spike, I..." Buffy found herself repeating to Spike the very words she'd spoken to Angel a decade earlier, "I can't just be a regular person. I can't be helpless like that. What am I going to do now?" she asked hopelessly.
Turning her to face the living room filled with her family: Dawn, Giles, Willow, Xander, baby Jack... Spike enveloped his wife in his strong warm arms, resting his head against hers. His dulcet voice whispered in her ear, "You're going to live, Buffy."