Q & A #30
by Colleen Hillerup
"Daddy," the weak little voice cried. If he wasn't a vampire, he wouldn't have heard it.
He poked his head in her bedroom. "Yes, sweet love?"
"Daddy," she croaked, "could I have more ginger ale?"
"Course, pet." He walked in and lay his hand on her forehead. It was still feverish, but didn't seem as hot as before. He'd take her temperature after he got her the drink. "Feeling any better?"
"No." She looked up at him with big, sad eyes. "I want Mommy."
"I know. But Mommy's in her own bed, poor thing. Nasty flu." He squeezed her hand. "She needs her rest. She'll be in to see you soon."
He left her, then peeked in on Dawn. She was asleep, her breathing laboured, with her head propped on her pillow. Puppy was lying on the bed near her feet, curled in a ball.
Next he checked on Buffy. "Want some ginger ale, love? Getting some for the baby, anyway."
Buffy tried to smile, and nodded. She pointed to her throat.
"I know. Don't try an' talk. I'll be right back." He ran down the stairs, for what must have been the fiftieth time that night. At least he was immune to the virus.
He opened the fridge and took out the pop, pouring some in a glass and the rest in Meredith's sippy cup. He looked at the empty bottle in his hand, and had an overwhelming desire to throw it against the kitchen wall. Since it was plastic, it wouldn't have been too satisfying. He threw it in the recycling bin.
He had been the scourge of Europe. He and Dru had cut a swath through whole cities. His had been a name to contend with. Now he was reduced to playing nursemaid to a housefull of women. A part of him wanted to break a window, or beat someone up. He leaned against the countertop, grasping it tightly, until the feeling passed.
He picked up the drinks and went back upstairs. Buffy took hers, and smiled, bright and wide, this time, only for him. "I love you," she whispered.
He kissed her forehead. "I know, my darling. Now sip that, then get some sleep. Let the ol' Slayer strength kick in."
He took the sippy cup and handed it to Meredith. "Here you go, pet. Anything else you need?"
"Cuddles."
"Done, and done." He lay down on the bed beside her, holding her close. He may be nursemaid to a housefull of women, but they were his women.
by Colleen Hillerup
"Daddy," the weak little voice cried. If he wasn't a vampire, he wouldn't have heard it.
He poked his head in her bedroom. "Yes, sweet love?"
"Daddy," she croaked, "could I have more ginger ale?"
"Course, pet." He walked in and lay his hand on her forehead. It was still feverish, but didn't seem as hot as before. He'd take her temperature after he got her the drink. "Feeling any better?"
"No." She looked up at him with big, sad eyes. "I want Mommy."
"I know. But Mommy's in her own bed, poor thing. Nasty flu." He squeezed her hand. "She needs her rest. She'll be in to see you soon."
He left her, then peeked in on Dawn. She was asleep, her breathing laboured, with her head propped on her pillow. Puppy was lying on the bed near her feet, curled in a ball.
Next he checked on Buffy. "Want some ginger ale, love? Getting some for the baby, anyway."
Buffy tried to smile, and nodded. She pointed to her throat.
"I know. Don't try an' talk. I'll be right back." He ran down the stairs, for what must have been the fiftieth time that night. At least he was immune to the virus.
He opened the fridge and took out the pop, pouring some in a glass and the rest in Meredith's sippy cup. He looked at the empty bottle in his hand, and had an overwhelming desire to throw it against the kitchen wall. Since it was plastic, it wouldn't have been too satisfying. He threw it in the recycling bin.
He had been the scourge of Europe. He and Dru had cut a swath through whole cities. His had been a name to contend with. Now he was reduced to playing nursemaid to a housefull of women. A part of him wanted to break a window, or beat someone up. He leaned against the countertop, grasping it tightly, until the feeling passed.
He picked up the drinks and went back upstairs. Buffy took hers, and smiled, bright and wide, this time, only for him. "I love you," she whispered.
He kissed her forehead. "I know, my darling. Now sip that, then get some sleep. Let the ol' Slayer strength kick in."
He took the sippy cup and handed it to Meredith. "Here you go, pet. Anything else you need?"
"Cuddles."
"Done, and done." He lay down on the bed beside her, holding her close. He may be nursemaid to a housefull of women, but they were his women.