Good evening, All
I am actually managing to get a second chapter out this week, thanks to some fast moving betas and a muse that decided to poke her head out from my wallow-fest and help me out. I also am fairly certain that Wednesday's chapter will be out on time.
For those of you following my RL soap saga, thank you again for all of your help. You really are wonderful people. I am proud to announce that my father and his girlfriend surprised me with a new puppy on Friday. He will never be Max, but I will love him all the same. His name is Rupert and he's another miniature dachshund. Only nine weeks old. It's been a while since I've been a puppy mum, but hopefully, it will be a welcome change from grief.
Please enjoy the story and let me know how you feel. Also, *please* go visit the awesome site that Rachel surprised me with. I was utterly blown out of the water by how well done it is, and how generous a gesture. Please reward her hard work. The link is:
http://www.cloudy-visions.org/nimue/always.htm
Thank you again for reading and please please review!
*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: Give and Take (Chapter Fifteen of The One)
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. Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at http://www.cloudy-visions.org/nimue/always.htm
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)
Summary: Oz, Tara and Willow finish their conversation about events to come. Draconius sets Luke straight about their plan. Spike has to explain to the children what is wrong with their mother, and face some frightening truths when talking to Giles.
Give and Take
Oz looked at the girls kindly, but with newfound awe and reverence. It wasn't often that an opportunity like this presented itself to a werewolf. "So, um.what do we do? I mean, I know, but how? When? Logistics. you know."
Tara smiled shyly. "I was hoping you would know what to do. "
The werewolf returned it warmly. "Well, yeah. But well, you know. I mean, the three. oh, hell. Is it fair to say that I am really stoked?"
Willow giggled nodding head. "Fair enough."
"Um," Oz began, his eyes darting around the room like small disco balls. He wasn't even sure where to begin. It was like Christmas all over, yet he had to restrain his enthusiasm and remember that, despite the offer on the table, this wasn't about his pleasure. This was about them. He was just getting a gift with purchase. "You sure you want to do this?"
"Sure," Tara answered, smiling shyly. "We...we've discussed it a lot, Oz, and it's really the only way that either of us will feel comfortable."
Oz shifted, suddenly feeling pleasantly uncomfortable with the questions brewing in his mind. "So, uh, do you.I mean, you want me to.both of you, right? I mean.or is one kind of spectating, because that would be.man.talk about performance under pressure." His cheeks were red, his small mouth quirked in an expression straddling the line between utter happiness and complete humiliation.
"Both," Willow answered. "I mean, both of us, with the involvement. If we're going to do this, and probably just once, then we want to give it our best shot."
"Think it's *my* best shot you're asking for," Oz answered, spinning the coffee mug between his hands. "I mean, literally speaking."
Tara's eyes darted from Oz to the table and back at least a million times, as if looking at him suddenly made it real. "We want to be sure..we have a better chance of at least one of us.if both of us."
"So, what you're saying is I need to rest up and break out the Yohimbe," Oz joked, leaning back in the seat and drumming some foreign beat on the table.
"If that's what it takes," Willow answered. "I mean.if you want. You don't have to do this..."
"Want to," Oz interrupted, almost too quickly. "Was that pathetically enthusiastic?"
Both women smiled at him. "Not so much with the pathetic, but good with the enthusiasm," Willow replied, her eyes dancing. "So, you're in?"
"I am your baby making wolf man," Oz answered, sticking his hand across the table. Willow shook, Tara laying her hand on top of them both. They were quiet for a moment, holding their hands together in the center of the table. "So, when do you want to.?"
Willow looked at Tara, an unspoken conversation passing between them. They looked back at Oz. "There are some things going on with Buffy and Spike.I think we should help them out first. You know, since Spike kinda helped us with the whole.arranging this."
Oz nodded. "Anything I can do?"
"Not sure," Willow answered. "Help if you speak ancient African dialects."
"Only on Tuesdays," Oz joked, a warm smile breaking across his face. "But I'm willing to be the coffee brigade."
"Much coffee is needed," Tara contributed, her face nearly as radiant as her heart. "The research gets a little."
"Slow," Oz completed. "Scooby ex meritus."
Tara smiled. "Right. So, yeah, um, why don't you come with us to Buffy's and you can brew while we crack books."
"Can do," the werewolf completed, dropping a few bills on the table and scooting out of the booth. He paused, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. "Let me just make sure I got this straight. You two want to have a baby, so you want me to sleep with both of you.together.and try to make sure that one of you ends up with a were-witch cross?"
"Pretty much," Willow answered, taking his now outstretched hand and climbing out of the booth, pulling Tara out behind her. "That okay?"
"Oh, that's.that's.there are no words," Oz answered, standing between the two women. "Shall we?"
"We shall," Willow said, wrapping an arm around his waist. Tara followed suit, her hand wrapping around Willow's behind Oz's back. "Off to save the day."
"So, what's the next step?" Luke chirped, buttoning the collar of his crisp red satin shirt and grabbing a suit jacket from his wardrobe.
Draconius sat in an overstuffed chair, puffing on his pipe. "It's up to them, really. How they react. Hard to know what it was that made each of them so. them."
"Not sure I'm following," Luke replied, plopping down into a chair opposite the old one. "I mean, what does it matter who they are."
A smile broke on Draconius's face. "Ah, see now this is why you need me," he sighed, leaning back into the velvet. "The One is merely the joining of two separate entities. The Vampire and the Slayer."
"That much, I got," Luke answered, balancing his right foot on his left knee and adjusting himself. Satin pants were a little slick against the skin.
"The powers inherent to each, however equal in this particular situation, come with their own drawbacks. I doubt this will have much physical effect on the Vampire of Heart, as he possessed most of the Slayer's inherent abilities before the joining, lacking maybe the prophetic dreams and the fully blown morality that comes with the sharing of soul," Draconius continued.
"Aaaallllrrriiiiggghhhttt," Luke drew out, crinkling his brow.
Draconius sighed long and deep, muttering the idiocy of his unlikely partner to the air. "However," he began anew, "The Vampire has some characteristics that the Slayer is utterly unfamiliar with and has no idea how to control. Not to mention, they are completely abhorrent to her."
"So, why take out the Slayer as opposed to the Vampire. Is she more of a threat?" Luke asked, a Cosmopolitan appearing on the table next to him as if my some hellish magic. Okay, it was by some hellish magic.
"They are of equal threat," Draconius corrected, taking another long pull from his pipe. "However, the Vampire's utter devotion to his Slayer will kill two birds with one stone."
Luke crinkled his brow again, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm back to not with the following."
"You really *are* a moron," the old one sighed, pushing himself out of the chair and beginning to pace back and forth in front of it. "The Vampire will be so concerned and so confused by what is happening to his precious mate, he will become less alert to anything but her plight. All consumed b y saving his golden goddess that he will not notice that we have taken their little hell spawn right from underneath of them."
"I don't know," Luke whined. "I mean, by all accounts, both parents are pretty ferocious when it comes to those little rug rats."
"Maybe so," Draconius nodded. "However, my guess is that the Vampire removes them from their home before their mum becomes a danger to them."
"So where do we find them?" Luke asked, shaking his head slightly. All this evil scheming was making his head hurt.
"That is something we will have to figure out as we go."
Spike was spooned behind her, listening to the soft sigh of her breath as she slept. It was an uneasy rest, but exhaustion had bettered her concern. She was curled in a ball, wearing a tank top and flannel pajamas, her back pressed tight against his chest. Spike stroked her bare arm, lulling her, almost trying to keep her under the tide of sleep. If he could keep her calm, he'd be calm. If he were calm, he'd be rational. If he were rational, he could find the answer.
But his whole world fell apart when she cried.
Buffy had cried softly most of the way to sleep. She'd been all right in the bath. He had time tested ways of distracting her. But once she the lull of the afterglow wore off, the tears started anew. Soft, quiet ones. The most heart breaking of all because there was no anger behind them to fight. Just fear. And fear was the one weakness they both had.
Slowly, he loosed himself from her lock against him, scooting backwards in almost infinitesimal movements. Buffy stirred and Spike stopped, but she sighed and nestled back into the pillow. It took everything he had to leave her, but there were two Watchers downstairs that needed to suss out the answer. And two tots downstairs that were probably frightened out of their wee gourds.
Spike padded out the door on silent bare feet, and headed downstairs to face that which he feared.
"It wasn't a migraine, was it?" Giles asked, removing his glasses and massaging his brow. Spike had padded into the kitchen silently, setting the kettle back on the stove. Tea. Would soothe them both.
"No," the Vampire finally added, his voice quiet and distant.
"As much I thought," Giles continued, leafing aimlessly through a dusty tome. "Is she all right?"
"For now," Spike whispered, walking to the back door and looking out the window. The kids were sitting on the swings, being pushed gently by Cyrus. They weren't talking or laughing, but looked otherwise normal.
"Spike?" The Watcher's voice was hesitant, but he pushed on. "Did she...Was she burning?"
Spike turned from the window to face the man who had become Buffy's father. Both of their faces were tired, worn. "In a manner of speaking."
"Would you mind.could you explain?" Giles asked, closing the book with a soft tap.
"She didn't actually burn," Spike whispered, his voice so far away that Giles wondered if he was really there at all. Maybe he was still wrapped around her upstairs and this was just a shell. A vision. But the Vampire moved across the floor and rattled tea cups as he rummaged through the cabinets.
"What did happen?" Giles asked, pushing his stool back from the counter and turning to watch Spike. The Vampire's movements were slow, hesitant. Like he was making sure he didn't break under the pressure.
"She felt it," Spike continued in the same horribly distant voice. "I felt it too. Burning. Like the sun, the world, rejects you. Skin gets hot, and then it feels like acid. She felt it."
"Oh God," Giles commented, covering his eyes for a moment. "Is she. is she burned?"
"No," Spike replied concisely. "Checked her over myself. Not a mark on her pretty little body. Not a singe, not a red spot, not a bite."
"So, she hasn't been turned. At least, not traditionally speaking," Giles sighed, almost to himself.
"No," Spike answered. "Heart's fluttering like a scared animal. Breathing normally. Skin's warm. Not a Vampire."
"You've all those things, Spike. And you're still a Vampire," Giles commented, finally raising his eyes to Spike once again.
Spike poured hot water into two cups. "True."
It felt as if a light bulb went off over the Watcher's head. "Spike, do you think. I mean, it seems."
"That she is taking on some of my less endearing characteristics? Thought of that, Mate. But I don't burn in sunshine either. anymore."
"Exactly," Giles replied. "But your demon does. Your demon does all of those things. Maybe she is slowly being infected by the demon."
A wave of guilt crashed over Spike like a tsunami. "You mean that by joining with me, I am leading her to be what she hates?"
A sad expression passed over the Watcher's face. "No, Spike. I don't think that at all. Nor do I think she really hates Vampires as a rule. What I am saying is that the One keeps a channel open between you at all times. Normally, that channel doesn't alter physicalities. In this case, something has forced physical attributes, specific ones, to travel through the connection, thereby infecting one with the traits of the other."
"Not like I've any urge to be all Chosen," Spike snarked, heaping sugar into his tea and handing Giles a cup.
"I think that the Slayer traits are probably something you possessed to begin with in some fashion. But I do notice you've been rather remiss in eating today," The Watcher continued.
Spike raised an eyebrow. Donut when the red head stopped by. Shared a granola bar with Emma. Couple of cups of coffee. "I've eaten."
"Have you fed?" Giles asked.
Blood. Hadn't gone near it today. That was odd. Not necessarily good either. He could eat human food, but he was still a Vampire. Needed blood to survive. "No."
"So, certain things are changing," Giles sighed, lacing his hands behind his head.
"How?" Spike asked. "And how do we change them back? Is this normal? I mean, is this supposed to happen? If so, this is not a bloody good deal for her."
"I honestly don't think this is meant to happen," Giles replied with confidence. "I think that the One is meant to act as it has for the past five years. Something has happened to throw off the balance."
"Spell?" Spike asked, taking a sip of his tea.
Giles nodded. "Spell, enchantment, talisman. Mystical energy with something being used as the focus."
"Would ask who would do that, but it's not like Buffy and me haven't made an army of enemies."
"This is Draconius," the Watcher said, leaning forward again, his forearms on the table, his fingers clasped together tightly. "Has to be."
Spike's brow furrowed. "Thought we sent him to hell, Mate."
"He has sent someone back."
The door flew open and two small people barged inside followed by a concerned, yet gentle Watcher. Cyrus nodded at Spike and walked silently over to the stove to make some tea.
"Daddy!" Emma screamed, running at her father with Will on her heels and Pony bringing up the rear with his thundering paws.
"Hello, Mite," Spike answered, his entire demeanor changing as the youngsters came in. Giles knew it was an act, but it was a good one. And a necessary evil.
"Daddy," Will cheered, grabbing onto his calf with his one good arm.
"Will," he answered, ruffling his hair. "Have a nice play?"
"Yes, daddy," Emma answered, crawling into his lap. Spike leaned down and gently pulled William up with her. They both stared at him with huge, brilliant blue eyes, full of questions.
Spike took a breath. How to handle this one? No one makes a manual for parenting of the children of joined super human, part demonic beings. Just wasn't a NY Times best seller. "What's wrong, Mite?"
"Is mum all right?" Emma asked, biting her lip.
Will trembled a little, burying his face in Spike's arm. "She was screamin'," the boy mumbled.
"She was," Spike answered, nodding, buying time. "But she's right as rain. Just feeling a little poorly is all."
"Like Will?" Emma asked, brushing her gentle fingers against the little boy's cast.
"Only nothing's broken," Spike answered, kissing Emma's forehead. "Mum's not broken. Just. remember when you had the flu a few weeks ago."
Emma nodded, watching her father's eyes. "Yes."
"A bit like that. All hot and fevery and sickly and scared," Spike continued, his nose crinkled for effect. Emma smiled at the gesture.
"Maybe we should make her soup," Emma suggested. "I liked it when mummy made me soup."
"Soup it is," Spike agreed, smiling down at her. He stroked her back almost aimlessly as Will curled under his other arm. "Let's let her rest a bit longer, then we'll take her something to eat."
Will yawned. "I want to see her now."
Spike shot a helpless glance at Giles. Neither of them knew how much might change and if Buffy would recognize it in time. He knew if he took William to Buffy now, he'd want to curl up with her and stay. Which, in general, was fine by them all. But as things stood, none of them knew what would happen next.
"Think it's best if we leave her be, Will," Spike answered, scooting the boy closer. "You want a nap, don't you?"
William nodded, yawning. Emma looked at her father for a minute, and then the little boy. "Daddy, he can lay down with me. Can we watch cartoons for a while?"
She was good. Little give. Little take. Smart little bird. "Yes," Spike answered. "Stretch out in the living room, but keep the sound low, all right? "
"Can we have cookies?" Emma asked, knowing full well she was pushing it further. Spike shook his head. He was conquered.
"Yes," he sighed, planting a kiss on her nose and settling Emma to the floor. "Now, go lay down before I change my mind and I'll bring you a snack."
Emma grinned. She'd learned from the master. Her mum knew how to get what she wanted. Now Emma was almost in her league. "Thanks, daddy."
"Go, you sneaky little tot," Spike joked, settling Will down next to her. "And I'll take you to your mum later, all right?"
Emma nodded. "She is okay, right?"
It took Spike a second to answer. Not really, he thought, but even as mature as Emma had become, she was still five. She didn't need to know that her mum wasn't just sick with the flu. "She'll be fine in no time, Mite. Now go lay down."
The little girl smiled, taking her brother's hand, and headed off to the living room.
To be contd.
I am actually managing to get a second chapter out this week, thanks to some fast moving betas and a muse that decided to poke her head out from my wallow-fest and help me out. I also am fairly certain that Wednesday's chapter will be out on time.
For those of you following my RL soap saga, thank you again for all of your help. You really are wonderful people. I am proud to announce that my father and his girlfriend surprised me with a new puppy on Friday. He will never be Max, but I will love him all the same. His name is Rupert and he's another miniature dachshund. Only nine weeks old. It's been a while since I've been a puppy mum, but hopefully, it will be a welcome change from grief.
Please enjoy the story and let me know how you feel. Also, *please* go visit the awesome site that Rachel surprised me with. I was utterly blown out of the water by how well done it is, and how generous a gesture. Please reward her hard work. The link is:
http://www.cloudy-visions.org/nimue/always.htm
Thank you again for reading and please please review!
*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: Give and Take (Chapter Fifteen of The One)
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. Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at http://www.cloudy-visions.org/nimue/always.htm
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)
Summary: Oz, Tara and Willow finish their conversation about events to come. Draconius sets Luke straight about their plan. Spike has to explain to the children what is wrong with their mother, and face some frightening truths when talking to Giles.
Give and Take
Oz looked at the girls kindly, but with newfound awe and reverence. It wasn't often that an opportunity like this presented itself to a werewolf. "So, um.what do we do? I mean, I know, but how? When? Logistics. you know."
Tara smiled shyly. "I was hoping you would know what to do. "
The werewolf returned it warmly. "Well, yeah. But well, you know. I mean, the three. oh, hell. Is it fair to say that I am really stoked?"
Willow giggled nodding head. "Fair enough."
"Um," Oz began, his eyes darting around the room like small disco balls. He wasn't even sure where to begin. It was like Christmas all over, yet he had to restrain his enthusiasm and remember that, despite the offer on the table, this wasn't about his pleasure. This was about them. He was just getting a gift with purchase. "You sure you want to do this?"
"Sure," Tara answered, smiling shyly. "We...we've discussed it a lot, Oz, and it's really the only way that either of us will feel comfortable."
Oz shifted, suddenly feeling pleasantly uncomfortable with the questions brewing in his mind. "So, uh, do you.I mean, you want me to.both of you, right? I mean.or is one kind of spectating, because that would be.man.talk about performance under pressure." His cheeks were red, his small mouth quirked in an expression straddling the line between utter happiness and complete humiliation.
"Both," Willow answered. "I mean, both of us, with the involvement. If we're going to do this, and probably just once, then we want to give it our best shot."
"Think it's *my* best shot you're asking for," Oz answered, spinning the coffee mug between his hands. "I mean, literally speaking."
Tara's eyes darted from Oz to the table and back at least a million times, as if looking at him suddenly made it real. "We want to be sure..we have a better chance of at least one of us.if both of us."
"So, what you're saying is I need to rest up and break out the Yohimbe," Oz joked, leaning back in the seat and drumming some foreign beat on the table.
"If that's what it takes," Willow answered. "I mean.if you want. You don't have to do this..."
"Want to," Oz interrupted, almost too quickly. "Was that pathetically enthusiastic?"
Both women smiled at him. "Not so much with the pathetic, but good with the enthusiasm," Willow replied, her eyes dancing. "So, you're in?"
"I am your baby making wolf man," Oz answered, sticking his hand across the table. Willow shook, Tara laying her hand on top of them both. They were quiet for a moment, holding their hands together in the center of the table. "So, when do you want to.?"
Willow looked at Tara, an unspoken conversation passing between them. They looked back at Oz. "There are some things going on with Buffy and Spike.I think we should help them out first. You know, since Spike kinda helped us with the whole.arranging this."
Oz nodded. "Anything I can do?"
"Not sure," Willow answered. "Help if you speak ancient African dialects."
"Only on Tuesdays," Oz joked, a warm smile breaking across his face. "But I'm willing to be the coffee brigade."
"Much coffee is needed," Tara contributed, her face nearly as radiant as her heart. "The research gets a little."
"Slow," Oz completed. "Scooby ex meritus."
Tara smiled. "Right. So, yeah, um, why don't you come with us to Buffy's and you can brew while we crack books."
"Can do," the werewolf completed, dropping a few bills on the table and scooting out of the booth. He paused, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. "Let me just make sure I got this straight. You two want to have a baby, so you want me to sleep with both of you.together.and try to make sure that one of you ends up with a were-witch cross?"
"Pretty much," Willow answered, taking his now outstretched hand and climbing out of the booth, pulling Tara out behind her. "That okay?"
"Oh, that's.that's.there are no words," Oz answered, standing between the two women. "Shall we?"
"We shall," Willow said, wrapping an arm around his waist. Tara followed suit, her hand wrapping around Willow's behind Oz's back. "Off to save the day."
"So, what's the next step?" Luke chirped, buttoning the collar of his crisp red satin shirt and grabbing a suit jacket from his wardrobe.
Draconius sat in an overstuffed chair, puffing on his pipe. "It's up to them, really. How they react. Hard to know what it was that made each of them so. them."
"Not sure I'm following," Luke replied, plopping down into a chair opposite the old one. "I mean, what does it matter who they are."
A smile broke on Draconius's face. "Ah, see now this is why you need me," he sighed, leaning back into the velvet. "The One is merely the joining of two separate entities. The Vampire and the Slayer."
"That much, I got," Luke answered, balancing his right foot on his left knee and adjusting himself. Satin pants were a little slick against the skin.
"The powers inherent to each, however equal in this particular situation, come with their own drawbacks. I doubt this will have much physical effect on the Vampire of Heart, as he possessed most of the Slayer's inherent abilities before the joining, lacking maybe the prophetic dreams and the fully blown morality that comes with the sharing of soul," Draconius continued.
"Aaaallllrrriiiiggghhhttt," Luke drew out, crinkling his brow.
Draconius sighed long and deep, muttering the idiocy of his unlikely partner to the air. "However," he began anew, "The Vampire has some characteristics that the Slayer is utterly unfamiliar with and has no idea how to control. Not to mention, they are completely abhorrent to her."
"So, why take out the Slayer as opposed to the Vampire. Is she more of a threat?" Luke asked, a Cosmopolitan appearing on the table next to him as if my some hellish magic. Okay, it was by some hellish magic.
"They are of equal threat," Draconius corrected, taking another long pull from his pipe. "However, the Vampire's utter devotion to his Slayer will kill two birds with one stone."
Luke crinkled his brow again, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm back to not with the following."
"You really *are* a moron," the old one sighed, pushing himself out of the chair and beginning to pace back and forth in front of it. "The Vampire will be so concerned and so confused by what is happening to his precious mate, he will become less alert to anything but her plight. All consumed b y saving his golden goddess that he will not notice that we have taken their little hell spawn right from underneath of them."
"I don't know," Luke whined. "I mean, by all accounts, both parents are pretty ferocious when it comes to those little rug rats."
"Maybe so," Draconius nodded. "However, my guess is that the Vampire removes them from their home before their mum becomes a danger to them."
"So where do we find them?" Luke asked, shaking his head slightly. All this evil scheming was making his head hurt.
"That is something we will have to figure out as we go."
Spike was spooned behind her, listening to the soft sigh of her breath as she slept. It was an uneasy rest, but exhaustion had bettered her concern. She was curled in a ball, wearing a tank top and flannel pajamas, her back pressed tight against his chest. Spike stroked her bare arm, lulling her, almost trying to keep her under the tide of sleep. If he could keep her calm, he'd be calm. If he were calm, he'd be rational. If he were rational, he could find the answer.
But his whole world fell apart when she cried.
Buffy had cried softly most of the way to sleep. She'd been all right in the bath. He had time tested ways of distracting her. But once she the lull of the afterglow wore off, the tears started anew. Soft, quiet ones. The most heart breaking of all because there was no anger behind them to fight. Just fear. And fear was the one weakness they both had.
Slowly, he loosed himself from her lock against him, scooting backwards in almost infinitesimal movements. Buffy stirred and Spike stopped, but she sighed and nestled back into the pillow. It took everything he had to leave her, but there were two Watchers downstairs that needed to suss out the answer. And two tots downstairs that were probably frightened out of their wee gourds.
Spike padded out the door on silent bare feet, and headed downstairs to face that which he feared.
"It wasn't a migraine, was it?" Giles asked, removing his glasses and massaging his brow. Spike had padded into the kitchen silently, setting the kettle back on the stove. Tea. Would soothe them both.
"No," the Vampire finally added, his voice quiet and distant.
"As much I thought," Giles continued, leafing aimlessly through a dusty tome. "Is she all right?"
"For now," Spike whispered, walking to the back door and looking out the window. The kids were sitting on the swings, being pushed gently by Cyrus. They weren't talking or laughing, but looked otherwise normal.
"Spike?" The Watcher's voice was hesitant, but he pushed on. "Did she...Was she burning?"
Spike turned from the window to face the man who had become Buffy's father. Both of their faces were tired, worn. "In a manner of speaking."
"Would you mind.could you explain?" Giles asked, closing the book with a soft tap.
"She didn't actually burn," Spike whispered, his voice so far away that Giles wondered if he was really there at all. Maybe he was still wrapped around her upstairs and this was just a shell. A vision. But the Vampire moved across the floor and rattled tea cups as he rummaged through the cabinets.
"What did happen?" Giles asked, pushing his stool back from the counter and turning to watch Spike. The Vampire's movements were slow, hesitant. Like he was making sure he didn't break under the pressure.
"She felt it," Spike continued in the same horribly distant voice. "I felt it too. Burning. Like the sun, the world, rejects you. Skin gets hot, and then it feels like acid. She felt it."
"Oh God," Giles commented, covering his eyes for a moment. "Is she. is she burned?"
"No," Spike replied concisely. "Checked her over myself. Not a mark on her pretty little body. Not a singe, not a red spot, not a bite."
"So, she hasn't been turned. At least, not traditionally speaking," Giles sighed, almost to himself.
"No," Spike answered. "Heart's fluttering like a scared animal. Breathing normally. Skin's warm. Not a Vampire."
"You've all those things, Spike. And you're still a Vampire," Giles commented, finally raising his eyes to Spike once again.
Spike poured hot water into two cups. "True."
It felt as if a light bulb went off over the Watcher's head. "Spike, do you think. I mean, it seems."
"That she is taking on some of my less endearing characteristics? Thought of that, Mate. But I don't burn in sunshine either. anymore."
"Exactly," Giles replied. "But your demon does. Your demon does all of those things. Maybe she is slowly being infected by the demon."
A wave of guilt crashed over Spike like a tsunami. "You mean that by joining with me, I am leading her to be what she hates?"
A sad expression passed over the Watcher's face. "No, Spike. I don't think that at all. Nor do I think she really hates Vampires as a rule. What I am saying is that the One keeps a channel open between you at all times. Normally, that channel doesn't alter physicalities. In this case, something has forced physical attributes, specific ones, to travel through the connection, thereby infecting one with the traits of the other."
"Not like I've any urge to be all Chosen," Spike snarked, heaping sugar into his tea and handing Giles a cup.
"I think that the Slayer traits are probably something you possessed to begin with in some fashion. But I do notice you've been rather remiss in eating today," The Watcher continued.
Spike raised an eyebrow. Donut when the red head stopped by. Shared a granola bar with Emma. Couple of cups of coffee. "I've eaten."
"Have you fed?" Giles asked.
Blood. Hadn't gone near it today. That was odd. Not necessarily good either. He could eat human food, but he was still a Vampire. Needed blood to survive. "No."
"So, certain things are changing," Giles sighed, lacing his hands behind his head.
"How?" Spike asked. "And how do we change them back? Is this normal? I mean, is this supposed to happen? If so, this is not a bloody good deal for her."
"I honestly don't think this is meant to happen," Giles replied with confidence. "I think that the One is meant to act as it has for the past five years. Something has happened to throw off the balance."
"Spell?" Spike asked, taking a sip of his tea.
Giles nodded. "Spell, enchantment, talisman. Mystical energy with something being used as the focus."
"Would ask who would do that, but it's not like Buffy and me haven't made an army of enemies."
"This is Draconius," the Watcher said, leaning forward again, his forearms on the table, his fingers clasped together tightly. "Has to be."
Spike's brow furrowed. "Thought we sent him to hell, Mate."
"He has sent someone back."
The door flew open and two small people barged inside followed by a concerned, yet gentle Watcher. Cyrus nodded at Spike and walked silently over to the stove to make some tea.
"Daddy!" Emma screamed, running at her father with Will on her heels and Pony bringing up the rear with his thundering paws.
"Hello, Mite," Spike answered, his entire demeanor changing as the youngsters came in. Giles knew it was an act, but it was a good one. And a necessary evil.
"Daddy," Will cheered, grabbing onto his calf with his one good arm.
"Will," he answered, ruffling his hair. "Have a nice play?"
"Yes, daddy," Emma answered, crawling into his lap. Spike leaned down and gently pulled William up with her. They both stared at him with huge, brilliant blue eyes, full of questions.
Spike took a breath. How to handle this one? No one makes a manual for parenting of the children of joined super human, part demonic beings. Just wasn't a NY Times best seller. "What's wrong, Mite?"
"Is mum all right?" Emma asked, biting her lip.
Will trembled a little, burying his face in Spike's arm. "She was screamin'," the boy mumbled.
"She was," Spike answered, nodding, buying time. "But she's right as rain. Just feeling a little poorly is all."
"Like Will?" Emma asked, brushing her gentle fingers against the little boy's cast.
"Only nothing's broken," Spike answered, kissing Emma's forehead. "Mum's not broken. Just. remember when you had the flu a few weeks ago."
Emma nodded, watching her father's eyes. "Yes."
"A bit like that. All hot and fevery and sickly and scared," Spike continued, his nose crinkled for effect. Emma smiled at the gesture.
"Maybe we should make her soup," Emma suggested. "I liked it when mummy made me soup."
"Soup it is," Spike agreed, smiling down at her. He stroked her back almost aimlessly as Will curled under his other arm. "Let's let her rest a bit longer, then we'll take her something to eat."
Will yawned. "I want to see her now."
Spike shot a helpless glance at Giles. Neither of them knew how much might change and if Buffy would recognize it in time. He knew if he took William to Buffy now, he'd want to curl up with her and stay. Which, in general, was fine by them all. But as things stood, none of them knew what would happen next.
"Think it's best if we leave her be, Will," Spike answered, scooting the boy closer. "You want a nap, don't you?"
William nodded, yawning. Emma looked at her father for a minute, and then the little boy. "Daddy, he can lay down with me. Can we watch cartoons for a while?"
She was good. Little give. Little take. Smart little bird. "Yes," Spike answered. "Stretch out in the living room, but keep the sound low, all right? "
"Can we have cookies?" Emma asked, knowing full well she was pushing it further. Spike shook his head. He was conquered.
"Yes," he sighed, planting a kiss on her nose and settling Emma to the floor. "Now, go lay down before I change my mind and I'll bring you a snack."
Emma grinned. She'd learned from the master. Her mum knew how to get what she wanted. Now Emma was almost in her league. "Thanks, daddy."
"Go, you sneaky little tot," Spike joked, settling Will down next to her. "And I'll take you to your mum later, all right?"
Emma nodded. "She is okay, right?"
It took Spike a second to answer. Not really, he thought, but even as mature as Emma had become, she was still five. She didn't need to know that her mum wasn't just sick with the flu. "She'll be fine in no time, Mite. Now go lay down."
The little girl smiled, taking her brother's hand, and headed off to the living room.
To be contd.