Good evening, All:)
Barely making this one! Whew :::Nim wipes brow:::: But here it is. Chapter Eight of Time. Please enjoy. I have a feeling this one might elicit a tear or two, but there is a little relief in site before I whap you over the head with the angst paddle again!
Please let me know what you think!
*Cheery Vibes* , Nimue
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002
Title: One Tiny Moment (Time - Chapter Eight)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG -13
Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.
Feedback: Yes, please
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (with, of course, the exception of Emma, who belongs to Buffy and Spike)
Summary: Set directly after Lost Boy. Spike and Xander are joined by the rest of the group, but even their strength cannot defeat the pain of waiting. Riley and Sam arrive at Sunnydale General, but comfort is not their mission. Takina delivers news to the crew, and Spike is granted one tiny moment of peace.
One Tiny Moment.
The doors to the waiting room opened with a whooshing of air. Giles came through, Cyrus and Anya at his heels. Anya was carrying Emma. Why? Why did they bring her here?, Spike asked himself. Because there is nowhere else for her to go.
They stopped, taking in the scene. Spike was curled in the chair, knees drawn to his chest, staring blankly at them. Through them. Xander sat a few chairs away, alternating between watching Spike and the grey-green tiles on the floor. The boy glanced at the new arrivals and then back at Spike.
"I'll talk to them," Xander said softly. Spike nodded, never looking away, afraid that if he moved, if he spoke, all hell would break loose inside of him.
As Xander walked towards them, Anya moved away. At first, it looked as if she was just avoiding confrontation, but something else flashed across her face as she walked towards Spike. What was it? Compassion? Mercy?
She sat silently in the chair next to him, Emma clinging around her neck, staring with startled little eyes at her father. Spike swallowed, forcing himself to turn to them. To look at them.
He felt the hot tears burning behind his eyes. Anya shook her head softly, nodding at Emma. "Why don't you take her a while?" She whispered, loosing the toddler from her arms and shifting her towards Spike.
Spike stared at Emma in her little orange pants and her white sunflower shirt. It was her favourite. "I... I can't," he answered, the dam almost breaking. His voice hitched as he spoke. "She can't see... She can't know..."
Anya stood, moving in front of the Vampire. Slowly, she lowered Emma onto his lap and clasped his hands behind the little girls' back, then sat back down next to him. "Spike, you have to be strong," Anya whispered, watching him watch her. "*She* needs you to be strong. So will Buffy. So will William."
Spike looked at her, then back at Emma. Quietly, he chuckled. "Who will be strong for me?" A tear escaped his eye and Emma reached out, putting her plump little palm on his cheek.
"We will," Anya answered. "But *they* need you, Spike. Alright?" She was right. And wise. Maybe the opposite of Vengeance was as natural to her as her art. Or maybe she'd become more human along the way.
Spike nodded, taking a deep breath and pulling Emma against his chest. As soon as her face rested against his shirt, she began to cry. Soft, quiet tears, as if she felt all the pain and loss as well, but was waiting for it to be alright to hurt. To know she was safe.
He held her against him, stroking her pretty blonde hair. "S'alright, Mite. Everything'll be right as rain." Softly, he kissed the top of her head and murmured into her hair.
Anya watched, trying not to cry. Failing. Wanting to go back to last night where it was all beautiful and made sense. Pain was the one part of humanity that she didn't care for. But it was also the very thing that made beauty and pleasure stand out all the more.
"Spike?" Xander stood a few feet in front of him. Spike looked up from his daughter and caught the boy's gaze. "I'm going to go find Willow and Tara. They would want..."
"They should be here," Spike completed, his voice gaining strength. "Could you ask them if they'd track down Dawn? She's either at the University or her friend Janice's house."
"Yeah," Xander said, nodding. "You going to be OK?"
Spike adjusted Emma in his lap. She looked up at him with wet, tired eyes. "I'll have to be," he answered.
Xander nodded, glancing softly at Anya, then turned for the door.
*****
The black jeep shuddered to a halt near the emergency room entrance. Riley looked over at Sam and smiled. "You ready for this?" His teeth gleamed an almost unearthly white as the grin grew broader.
"I'm not the one that has to walk into the lion's den. I doubt they'll he happy to see you," Sam responded, twisting her hair into a loose bun.
"I can handle myself," Riley answered. "Just don't take too much time on your end."
"Little scared there, Finn?" She joked, punching his knee playfully.
His face changed suddenly and he growled. "Don't call me that, Witch." He hissed. "I may look like him now, but I am *not* that pathetic waste of air."
Sam sighed, unphased by the outburst. She'd been dealing with this since the First. "You will have to call yourself *something* around these people. I'd imagine the name that matches the face might be your best bet."
Riley stared at her stone faced for just a moment, and then grinned again. "Shall we?" With a click, he opened the jeep door, slamming it shut behind him and rounding the car to let Sam out like a gentleman. Together, they disappeared through the ambulance bay doors.
*****
Spike paced nervously, prowling the perimeter of the room like a twitchy jungle cat. Emma had cried herself to sleep and was curled up on his chair with a blanket wrapped around her. Spike's eyes never left the girl. Watching her breathe. Studying her little movements. With those big blue eyes closed, she was a tiny Buffy. Everything about her was like her mum. The cute nose. The tumble of wavy blonde hair. The golden skin. Even the smell of vanilla. A tiny, beautiful girl, and like her mum, she was his. Or more correctly, he was hers.
Giles and Cyrus spoke quietly in the corner, watching Spike pace. Watching Emma sleep. Anya was folded in a chair, legs tucked under her, head resting on Giles' shoulder. He stroked her hair absently as he talked. Spike wondered if he did that. Touched Buffy without even knowing he was doing it. Probably. He touched her as much as he could.
The doors from the outer hall swung open again. Xander came in, Willow and Tara in tow. They looked at Spike softly. Like he was dying and they didn't know what to say. Part of him was. Part of him didn't know what to say. Before the door glided shut again, she appeared. Her face was lost, her eyes huge and scared. Spike stopped pacing, turning towards her.
"Niblet?"
As if on cue, the dam broke and her eyes began to rain heavy teardrops. She half ran, half stumbled at him, latching her arms desperately around his neck. Spike felt his own tears start again. What Emma could not understand, Dawn could. He felt safe for a moment. Safe enough to feel.
"Is she OK?" Dawn whispered, never moving away.
Spike swallowed. "Dunno, Nib."
"How long has it been?" She asked, her shaky breath on his neck. Spike turned his head, glancing at the clock. "Bit over two hours," he answered, the tears still flowing against her dark hair.
Dawn backed away, putting her hands on his shoulders. "She'll be OK."
"Pet," he hitched, "What if she's not?"
"She will be," Dawn answered, her tears still rolling down her childlike cheeks. Spike nodded at her, pulling himself back together. "She's stubborn."
Spike chuckled. "That she is."
"Can you feel her?" Dawn asked. Spike closed his eyes, concentrating. Inhaling a breath.
"She's here," he answered, a little relief creeping into his tone. "But I can't... I can't tell..."
"About William?" Dawn asked, backing him towards the chair next to Emma. He sat as the wood hit the backs of his calves. She knelt in front of him. Softly, he nodded his response.
"We'll know soon," Dawn sighed, climbing into the chair on the other side from Emma. She let her head loll against Spike's shoulder. He looked over at his daughter curled next to him. He was absently stroking her hair.
*****
The clock ticked
Three hours, twenty-seven minutes.
A lifetime.
A door opened next to the desk.
Nine heads wearily rose to the sound. They were all exhausted, huddled like emotional refugees. How does one get tired from sitting?, Spike thought randomly.
Takina strode through the door, freshly pressed and clean. She changed her scrubs, Spike noticed. The earlier set smelled of blood. Buffy's blood. These smelled of industrial detergent and shampoo.
Slowly, Spike rose from the chair. He felt old in that moment. Decrepit. Dawn scooted over next to Emma, pulling the toddler into her lap. For who's comfort, neither was sure. Takina's walk was steady, slow, silent, measured.
She stopped a few feet from Spike. Her eyes met his in a torrent of midnight blue meeting sapphire. A stand off. Neither wanted to start. Neither was sure where the beginning had run off to.
Spike cleared his throat. "How is she?" He thought it came out quiet evenly, considering he felt as if his insides had been ripped to shreds.
A slow grin moved across Takina's face like the sun moving through the sky. "She's still under, but she is in recovery. She looks good, Spike. I think that physically, she will be just fine."
The room seemed to sigh with relief. If it hadn't, it was certain that all nine occupants had done it in the room's stead. The relief was short lived.
Spike's back stiffened and he drew in a deep breath through his nostrils. "The baby?"
Takina hesitated a beat and the room held its breath. "He's premature," she began. "So, he's going to need some help. His lungs have not finished developing and he will need a feeding tube for a while."
Spike stood stock still. Waiting. Listening. Terrified.
"But, he's stronger than any of us expected. It's early, but it looks to me like he'll be out of here in no time flat."
The muscles of Spike's shoulders loosened to jelly and he slouched where he stood. A veil lifted from the room as if darkness had turned to day. "Can I see her?"
"Not yet," Takina answered softly. "The nurses have to get her cleaned up and settled."
"Need to be there when she wakes up," Spike retorted. "She'll be frightened alone."
Takina laid a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be a while yet." She watched frustration play at the corners of his eyes. The twitch of his mouth as he held his cheek between his teeth. She smiled. "But if you'd like, I can take you to see your son."
Spike looked at her, his eyes so endlessly blue. "You..."
"He's in an incubator and he looks a bit worse for wear, but he's doing well," she commented, her slow grin returning.
The Vampire glanced over at Dawn and Emma, then back to Takina. "Shouldn't.." he began, not knowing what to say. "Shouldn't Buffy be the first...:"
"I don't think she'd mind," Takina reassured him.
"Spike, Go!" Dawn prodded, Emma still cuddled in her lap. Spike watched the girls a moment, and then turned to Takina. Slowly, he nodded.
*****
Over a century of existence could not prepare him for one tiny moment in time.
He had refused to be the first to hold the child. That was for Buffy and that he wouldn't take away.
Takina had lead him into a space full of small plastic cubes, most of them empty, clear tubes and wires and lights everywhere. She was walking towards the back of the room. The setting was surreal. Like a science fiction movie.
Behind the cubes and tubing were walls painted cheerful pinks and blues. Stuffed animals were perched in silent watch on stools. For a moment, Spike thought of Mr.. Gordo. The pig still sat on a chair underneath their bedroom window. He'd wondered when she'd gotten him. Was she this small?
Takina stopped short of the rear wall, turning a sharp corner. She stood still. He wondered why they had stopped moving. But he joined her and lifted his eyes from the pink elephants and blue bears.
A gasp caught in his throat.
Nothing that little had ever looked at him with such enormous, bright eyes. The colour of the sky in the summer, they pierced Spike's heart. Big, dancing eyes. Wondrous, perfect blue. He was wrapped tight in a blanket, but his arms and legs strained against the fabric, squirming to be free. A tiny body. A tiny, perfect face. *His* face a hundred years ago. What his mum must have looked upon when she first had held him.
Except, Spike thought, I couldn't have been as beautiful.
Spike stepped forward, crouching eye level with the cubicle, pressing his hand to the glass. The boy strained towards him, tiny lips sucking at the air. Tiny nose sniffing. What must the world smell like when you first step into it?, Spike thought.
A hand touched his shoulder and he turned his face from his son. Takina stood above him, smiling broadly, tears streaming down her cheeks. "He's a good looking boy, " she said softly.
Spike turned back to the glass, suddenly desperately wanting to touch. To hold him. To feel that soft skin and smell that clean smell. He closed his eyes, imagining it. It wasn't until he opened them that he realized he was weeping.
There was a little sign on the corner of the glass. Balloons. But someone had drawn a face on the yellow one. The face had little fangs. Spike chuckled soundlessly, his fingers tracing the letters.
William Windsor II.
His son.
Him.
Takina touched his arm again. "Are you sure you won't hold him?"
Spike stood, straightening himself, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. "I... I would love to. But it needs to be Buffy. She deserves that."
Takina nodded. "She should be waking up soon. Do you want to go?"
Spike looked back at the child, his breath catching in his throat.
"You can stay here. I can talk to her," the doctor said softly, watching him study his son.
"No, no," Spike corrected, turning back to her. "I need to be there. I want to let her know it's alright."
"It *is* alright," Takina repeated.
Spike nodded, swallowing. "When can she see him?"
"As soon as we're sure she's stable," Takina answered. "And as soon as he's been fed."
Spike nodded again, tears starting to build for reasons he couldn't fathom. Was there even this much water in a Vampire's body? "Can you please take me to her?" His voice wavered, trembling.
"Of course," she answered, her face soft.
Before he turned, he kissed his palm, touching it to the glass. "Until we meet again, my son."
*****
Riley ducked back behind the cover of the wall as the doctor and the Vampire came out of the ward. Sam waited behind him, catching his gaze as he swung himself out of the line of sight of the doorway.
"She's the target," Riley stated.
Sam peeked around the corner. "Who? Tall, dark and luscious?"
"Stay focused," Riley snapped. "It looks as she has a relationship with Spike and Buffy. She has access to their daughter, their house..."
"Well, won't it be obvious if suddenly there are two of her?" Sam demanded, glaring back at the insufferable man.
"Use your head. Dispose of the good doctor and take her place. They'll be too worried about Buffy and the new rug rat to notice," Riley commented.
Sam grinned, her face devious. "You're wicked."
He pulled her hard against him. "And so good at it," he growled, and then pushed her away, resuming the fresh faced farm boy demeanor. "Who'd a thunk it?"
Sam giggled. "I can buy it."
Riley became serious a moment. "Work fast, my Witch. You'll have to be sure it will distract them to the point of carelessness. I need to be able to get the girl away from them without them noticing. But you'll have to be free in time to take her."
"Have I ever let you down, Finn?" Sam chirped, punching his shoulder.
"No," he answered. "And don't start now."
To be contd.
Barely making this one! Whew :::Nim wipes brow:::: But here it is. Chapter Eight of Time. Please enjoy. I have a feeling this one might elicit a tear or two, but there is a little relief in site before I whap you over the head with the angst paddle again!
Please let me know what you think!
*Cheery Vibes* , Nimue
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002
Title: One Tiny Moment (Time - Chapter Eight)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG -13
Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.
Feedback: Yes, please
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (with, of course, the exception of Emma, who belongs to Buffy and Spike)
Summary: Set directly after Lost Boy. Spike and Xander are joined by the rest of the group, but even their strength cannot defeat the pain of waiting. Riley and Sam arrive at Sunnydale General, but comfort is not their mission. Takina delivers news to the crew, and Spike is granted one tiny moment of peace.
One Tiny Moment.
The doors to the waiting room opened with a whooshing of air. Giles came through, Cyrus and Anya at his heels. Anya was carrying Emma. Why? Why did they bring her here?, Spike asked himself. Because there is nowhere else for her to go.
They stopped, taking in the scene. Spike was curled in the chair, knees drawn to his chest, staring blankly at them. Through them. Xander sat a few chairs away, alternating between watching Spike and the grey-green tiles on the floor. The boy glanced at the new arrivals and then back at Spike.
"I'll talk to them," Xander said softly. Spike nodded, never looking away, afraid that if he moved, if he spoke, all hell would break loose inside of him.
As Xander walked towards them, Anya moved away. At first, it looked as if she was just avoiding confrontation, but something else flashed across her face as she walked towards Spike. What was it? Compassion? Mercy?
She sat silently in the chair next to him, Emma clinging around her neck, staring with startled little eyes at her father. Spike swallowed, forcing himself to turn to them. To look at them.
He felt the hot tears burning behind his eyes. Anya shook her head softly, nodding at Emma. "Why don't you take her a while?" She whispered, loosing the toddler from her arms and shifting her towards Spike.
Spike stared at Emma in her little orange pants and her white sunflower shirt. It was her favourite. "I... I can't," he answered, the dam almost breaking. His voice hitched as he spoke. "She can't see... She can't know..."
Anya stood, moving in front of the Vampire. Slowly, she lowered Emma onto his lap and clasped his hands behind the little girls' back, then sat back down next to him. "Spike, you have to be strong," Anya whispered, watching him watch her. "*She* needs you to be strong. So will Buffy. So will William."
Spike looked at her, then back at Emma. Quietly, he chuckled. "Who will be strong for me?" A tear escaped his eye and Emma reached out, putting her plump little palm on his cheek.
"We will," Anya answered. "But *they* need you, Spike. Alright?" She was right. And wise. Maybe the opposite of Vengeance was as natural to her as her art. Or maybe she'd become more human along the way.
Spike nodded, taking a deep breath and pulling Emma against his chest. As soon as her face rested against his shirt, she began to cry. Soft, quiet tears, as if she felt all the pain and loss as well, but was waiting for it to be alright to hurt. To know she was safe.
He held her against him, stroking her pretty blonde hair. "S'alright, Mite. Everything'll be right as rain." Softly, he kissed the top of her head and murmured into her hair.
Anya watched, trying not to cry. Failing. Wanting to go back to last night where it was all beautiful and made sense. Pain was the one part of humanity that she didn't care for. But it was also the very thing that made beauty and pleasure stand out all the more.
"Spike?" Xander stood a few feet in front of him. Spike looked up from his daughter and caught the boy's gaze. "I'm going to go find Willow and Tara. They would want..."
"They should be here," Spike completed, his voice gaining strength. "Could you ask them if they'd track down Dawn? She's either at the University or her friend Janice's house."
"Yeah," Xander said, nodding. "You going to be OK?"
Spike adjusted Emma in his lap. She looked up at him with wet, tired eyes. "I'll have to be," he answered.
Xander nodded, glancing softly at Anya, then turned for the door.
*****
The black jeep shuddered to a halt near the emergency room entrance. Riley looked over at Sam and smiled. "You ready for this?" His teeth gleamed an almost unearthly white as the grin grew broader.
"I'm not the one that has to walk into the lion's den. I doubt they'll he happy to see you," Sam responded, twisting her hair into a loose bun.
"I can handle myself," Riley answered. "Just don't take too much time on your end."
"Little scared there, Finn?" She joked, punching his knee playfully.
His face changed suddenly and he growled. "Don't call me that, Witch." He hissed. "I may look like him now, but I am *not* that pathetic waste of air."
Sam sighed, unphased by the outburst. She'd been dealing with this since the First. "You will have to call yourself *something* around these people. I'd imagine the name that matches the face might be your best bet."
Riley stared at her stone faced for just a moment, and then grinned again. "Shall we?" With a click, he opened the jeep door, slamming it shut behind him and rounding the car to let Sam out like a gentleman. Together, they disappeared through the ambulance bay doors.
*****
Spike paced nervously, prowling the perimeter of the room like a twitchy jungle cat. Emma had cried herself to sleep and was curled up on his chair with a blanket wrapped around her. Spike's eyes never left the girl. Watching her breathe. Studying her little movements. With those big blue eyes closed, she was a tiny Buffy. Everything about her was like her mum. The cute nose. The tumble of wavy blonde hair. The golden skin. Even the smell of vanilla. A tiny, beautiful girl, and like her mum, she was his. Or more correctly, he was hers.
Giles and Cyrus spoke quietly in the corner, watching Spike pace. Watching Emma sleep. Anya was folded in a chair, legs tucked under her, head resting on Giles' shoulder. He stroked her hair absently as he talked. Spike wondered if he did that. Touched Buffy without even knowing he was doing it. Probably. He touched her as much as he could.
The doors from the outer hall swung open again. Xander came in, Willow and Tara in tow. They looked at Spike softly. Like he was dying and they didn't know what to say. Part of him was. Part of him didn't know what to say. Before the door glided shut again, she appeared. Her face was lost, her eyes huge and scared. Spike stopped pacing, turning towards her.
"Niblet?"
As if on cue, the dam broke and her eyes began to rain heavy teardrops. She half ran, half stumbled at him, latching her arms desperately around his neck. Spike felt his own tears start again. What Emma could not understand, Dawn could. He felt safe for a moment. Safe enough to feel.
"Is she OK?" Dawn whispered, never moving away.
Spike swallowed. "Dunno, Nib."
"How long has it been?" She asked, her shaky breath on his neck. Spike turned his head, glancing at the clock. "Bit over two hours," he answered, the tears still flowing against her dark hair.
Dawn backed away, putting her hands on his shoulders. "She'll be OK."
"Pet," he hitched, "What if she's not?"
"She will be," Dawn answered, her tears still rolling down her childlike cheeks. Spike nodded at her, pulling himself back together. "She's stubborn."
Spike chuckled. "That she is."
"Can you feel her?" Dawn asked. Spike closed his eyes, concentrating. Inhaling a breath.
"She's here," he answered, a little relief creeping into his tone. "But I can't... I can't tell..."
"About William?" Dawn asked, backing him towards the chair next to Emma. He sat as the wood hit the backs of his calves. She knelt in front of him. Softly, he nodded his response.
"We'll know soon," Dawn sighed, climbing into the chair on the other side from Emma. She let her head loll against Spike's shoulder. He looked over at his daughter curled next to him. He was absently stroking her hair.
*****
The clock ticked
Three hours, twenty-seven minutes.
A lifetime.
A door opened next to the desk.
Nine heads wearily rose to the sound. They were all exhausted, huddled like emotional refugees. How does one get tired from sitting?, Spike thought randomly.
Takina strode through the door, freshly pressed and clean. She changed her scrubs, Spike noticed. The earlier set smelled of blood. Buffy's blood. These smelled of industrial detergent and shampoo.
Slowly, Spike rose from the chair. He felt old in that moment. Decrepit. Dawn scooted over next to Emma, pulling the toddler into her lap. For who's comfort, neither was sure. Takina's walk was steady, slow, silent, measured.
She stopped a few feet from Spike. Her eyes met his in a torrent of midnight blue meeting sapphire. A stand off. Neither wanted to start. Neither was sure where the beginning had run off to.
Spike cleared his throat. "How is she?" He thought it came out quiet evenly, considering he felt as if his insides had been ripped to shreds.
A slow grin moved across Takina's face like the sun moving through the sky. "She's still under, but she is in recovery. She looks good, Spike. I think that physically, she will be just fine."
The room seemed to sigh with relief. If it hadn't, it was certain that all nine occupants had done it in the room's stead. The relief was short lived.
Spike's back stiffened and he drew in a deep breath through his nostrils. "The baby?"
Takina hesitated a beat and the room held its breath. "He's premature," she began. "So, he's going to need some help. His lungs have not finished developing and he will need a feeding tube for a while."
Spike stood stock still. Waiting. Listening. Terrified.
"But, he's stronger than any of us expected. It's early, but it looks to me like he'll be out of here in no time flat."
The muscles of Spike's shoulders loosened to jelly and he slouched where he stood. A veil lifted from the room as if darkness had turned to day. "Can I see her?"
"Not yet," Takina answered softly. "The nurses have to get her cleaned up and settled."
"Need to be there when she wakes up," Spike retorted. "She'll be frightened alone."
Takina laid a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be a while yet." She watched frustration play at the corners of his eyes. The twitch of his mouth as he held his cheek between his teeth. She smiled. "But if you'd like, I can take you to see your son."
Spike looked at her, his eyes so endlessly blue. "You..."
"He's in an incubator and he looks a bit worse for wear, but he's doing well," she commented, her slow grin returning.
The Vampire glanced over at Dawn and Emma, then back to Takina. "Shouldn't.." he began, not knowing what to say. "Shouldn't Buffy be the first...:"
"I don't think she'd mind," Takina reassured him.
"Spike, Go!" Dawn prodded, Emma still cuddled in her lap. Spike watched the girls a moment, and then turned to Takina. Slowly, he nodded.
*****
Over a century of existence could not prepare him for one tiny moment in time.
He had refused to be the first to hold the child. That was for Buffy and that he wouldn't take away.
Takina had lead him into a space full of small plastic cubes, most of them empty, clear tubes and wires and lights everywhere. She was walking towards the back of the room. The setting was surreal. Like a science fiction movie.
Behind the cubes and tubing were walls painted cheerful pinks and blues. Stuffed animals were perched in silent watch on stools. For a moment, Spike thought of Mr.. Gordo. The pig still sat on a chair underneath their bedroom window. He'd wondered when she'd gotten him. Was she this small?
Takina stopped short of the rear wall, turning a sharp corner. She stood still. He wondered why they had stopped moving. But he joined her and lifted his eyes from the pink elephants and blue bears.
A gasp caught in his throat.
Nothing that little had ever looked at him with such enormous, bright eyes. The colour of the sky in the summer, they pierced Spike's heart. Big, dancing eyes. Wondrous, perfect blue. He was wrapped tight in a blanket, but his arms and legs strained against the fabric, squirming to be free. A tiny body. A tiny, perfect face. *His* face a hundred years ago. What his mum must have looked upon when she first had held him.
Except, Spike thought, I couldn't have been as beautiful.
Spike stepped forward, crouching eye level with the cubicle, pressing his hand to the glass. The boy strained towards him, tiny lips sucking at the air. Tiny nose sniffing. What must the world smell like when you first step into it?, Spike thought.
A hand touched his shoulder and he turned his face from his son. Takina stood above him, smiling broadly, tears streaming down her cheeks. "He's a good looking boy, " she said softly.
Spike turned back to the glass, suddenly desperately wanting to touch. To hold him. To feel that soft skin and smell that clean smell. He closed his eyes, imagining it. It wasn't until he opened them that he realized he was weeping.
There was a little sign on the corner of the glass. Balloons. But someone had drawn a face on the yellow one. The face had little fangs. Spike chuckled soundlessly, his fingers tracing the letters.
William Windsor II.
His son.
Him.
Takina touched his arm again. "Are you sure you won't hold him?"
Spike stood, straightening himself, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. "I... I would love to. But it needs to be Buffy. She deserves that."
Takina nodded. "She should be waking up soon. Do you want to go?"
Spike looked back at the child, his breath catching in his throat.
"You can stay here. I can talk to her," the doctor said softly, watching him study his son.
"No, no," Spike corrected, turning back to her. "I need to be there. I want to let her know it's alright."
"It *is* alright," Takina repeated.
Spike nodded, swallowing. "When can she see him?"
"As soon as we're sure she's stable," Takina answered. "And as soon as he's been fed."
Spike nodded again, tears starting to build for reasons he couldn't fathom. Was there even this much water in a Vampire's body? "Can you please take me to her?" His voice wavered, trembling.
"Of course," she answered, her face soft.
Before he turned, he kissed his palm, touching it to the glass. "Until we meet again, my son."
*****
Riley ducked back behind the cover of the wall as the doctor and the Vampire came out of the ward. Sam waited behind him, catching his gaze as he swung himself out of the line of sight of the doorway.
"She's the target," Riley stated.
Sam peeked around the corner. "Who? Tall, dark and luscious?"
"Stay focused," Riley snapped. "It looks as she has a relationship with Spike and Buffy. She has access to their daughter, their house..."
"Well, won't it be obvious if suddenly there are two of her?" Sam demanded, glaring back at the insufferable man.
"Use your head. Dispose of the good doctor and take her place. They'll be too worried about Buffy and the new rug rat to notice," Riley commented.
Sam grinned, her face devious. "You're wicked."
He pulled her hard against him. "And so good at it," he growled, and then pushed her away, resuming the fresh faced farm boy demeanor. "Who'd a thunk it?"
Sam giggled. "I can buy it."
Riley became serious a moment. "Work fast, my Witch. You'll have to be sure it will distract them to the point of carelessness. I need to be able to get the girl away from them without them noticing. But you'll have to be free in time to take her."
"Have I ever let you down, Finn?" Sam chirped, punching his shoulder.
"No," he answered. "And don't start now."
To be contd.