***** Chapter 5: There's No Place Like Home *****
"Come on, love," Spike said, helping her out of the hospital bed. "I just talked to April -" At her confused look, he explained. "That's your cousin. She told me just to get you home and then we could make you as comfortable as possible." She eyed him suspiciously, and he did his best to keep his expression light and cheerful.
"You're upset," Andrea said softly. Damn. For not having a clue who he was, she was still way too insightful for her own good. He covered his reaction by grabbing her coat off a nearby chair and assisting her into it.
"Nonsense, pet. Let's get you and Ali home now and I'll get you some ice cream." He lightly pressed against the small of her back, forcing her into the hallway.
"You're upset," she repeated. He sighed and turned to face her.
"Can we talk about this in the car, please?"
"No, I want to talk about this now," she demanded, her voice becoming more confident as she folded her arms across her chest.
He rolled his eyes. People were starting to stare. He roughly grabbed her by the upper arm and yanked her out the door of the hospital, briefly leaving her alone outside when he went back into the hospital, returning with a stroller, complete with newborn baby.
"Yes, I am upset," he admitted, moving to a black Firebird convertible. She followed him, then eyed the car appreciatively for a moment before concentrating on what he was saying. He sure was cute. . .Man, she could pick 'em. He looked her right in the eyes, his confused emotions making her a bit nervous as they whirled in his intense blue gaze. "My wife has lost her memory. You don't have a clue who I am, who your family is. You don't remember anything of what we've been through. Not how we met, not the first time we kissed, nothing." His voice was packed full of different emotions. So many that she couldn't tell one from another. "You don't remember our baby." The last was said almost pleadingly, like by some miracle, when he said it, it might trigger a memory. Her hazel eyes widened.
"Our what?" He gestured toward the stroller and baby and for the first time, she actually realized that they had something to do with her. Her baby. Her stroller, her car, her husband, her baby.
"This is Ali. You gave birth to her today. You and me and Ali. We're a family." She looked down at the sleeping child again. After a pregnant silence, he spoke again. "Get in the car."
* * *
"This is where we live?" Andrea asked hesitantly as she got out of the car, staring up at the two storey, Victorian-looking house on Wilson Ave.
" 'S right, pet. You didn't always live here. When you moved to Sunnydale, you lived in a smaller house a few blocks away." He took Ali out of the car and she followed him up a stylish sidewalk to the front door.
"Sunnydale. . ." she repeated. "United States?" He nodded, unlocking the door.
"Yeah. California. But you're Canadian." Spike swung the door open, and she stepped slowly inside.
The house was as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. The floors were covered in plush, forest green carpeting, the walls a bluey green colour that somehow complemented the carpet. A stunning maple staircase wound up the wall to the second floor, matching doorframes lining the openings to other rooms.
"Wow. . ." She followed him into the kitchen, where he set the baby and car seat on a casual table. When he didn't say anything, she resumed questioning him. "Why haven't you told me your first name?" He sighed, but didn't look at her, instead concentrating on simple tasks, in this case, getting himself a beer.
"The doc told me not to overload your mind. It would put too much pressure on you."
"Tell me." He paused.
"William. But nobody calls me that. It's Spike."
"What kind of a name is Spike?" He snorted. Trust her to have a reaction like that when she had amnesia.
"Long story. Most of which you won't believe just now, so I figure I'd better wait for your loving cousin to show up." He took a swig from his beer. "So how are you holding up?" He motioned for her to sit down and she obeyed. Before answering, she turned the car seat toward her so she had an unobstructed view of her daughter. She was beautiful, with a light dusting of curly blonde hair.
"I'm still. . .adjusting. So far, all I know about me is that my name is Andrea, I live in California in a beautiful house, I used to live somewhere else, I'm originally from Canada, I have a husband named after an inanimate object, a newborn baby that sleeps a lot and a loving cousin named April. That's what you've told me. And for some reason, I'm having trouble completely trusting you." He smiled sardonically.
"Well, at least you're honest about it."
"And I don't feel like a wife and mother," she admitted. Her manner had turned from distrustful to tentative. Her tone tugged at something inside of him.
"Give it time, kitten. Give it time."
"When did we get married?" Her question was so out of the blue that he was taken aback.
"Around five months." She was quiet for a moment. Then:
"Did you marry me because you got me pregnant?" He grinned.
"I proposed before you told me you were pregnant."
"How do I know that we're actually married? And that she's my baby? How do I know that anything you say is true?" Her distrustful tone was back in place as quickly as it had gone. He thought for a moment.
"We had both events video taped."
"Really? Can I see them?"
"Sure, I don't see why not. Go get set up in the living room and I'll get you a beer."
"I drink beer?"
"Yeah." With a shrug, she got up and went to the entrance to the kitchen, then paused and looked back at him. It took him a few minutes to figure out why she'd stopped. "Down the hall, last door on the left."
"Come on, love," Spike said, helping her out of the hospital bed. "I just talked to April -" At her confused look, he explained. "That's your cousin. She told me just to get you home and then we could make you as comfortable as possible." She eyed him suspiciously, and he did his best to keep his expression light and cheerful.
"You're upset," Andrea said softly. Damn. For not having a clue who he was, she was still way too insightful for her own good. He covered his reaction by grabbing her coat off a nearby chair and assisting her into it.
"Nonsense, pet. Let's get you and Ali home now and I'll get you some ice cream." He lightly pressed against the small of her back, forcing her into the hallway.
"You're upset," she repeated. He sighed and turned to face her.
"Can we talk about this in the car, please?"
"No, I want to talk about this now," she demanded, her voice becoming more confident as she folded her arms across her chest.
He rolled his eyes. People were starting to stare. He roughly grabbed her by the upper arm and yanked her out the door of the hospital, briefly leaving her alone outside when he went back into the hospital, returning with a stroller, complete with newborn baby.
"Yes, I am upset," he admitted, moving to a black Firebird convertible. She followed him, then eyed the car appreciatively for a moment before concentrating on what he was saying. He sure was cute. . .Man, she could pick 'em. He looked her right in the eyes, his confused emotions making her a bit nervous as they whirled in his intense blue gaze. "My wife has lost her memory. You don't have a clue who I am, who your family is. You don't remember anything of what we've been through. Not how we met, not the first time we kissed, nothing." His voice was packed full of different emotions. So many that she couldn't tell one from another. "You don't remember our baby." The last was said almost pleadingly, like by some miracle, when he said it, it might trigger a memory. Her hazel eyes widened.
"Our what?" He gestured toward the stroller and baby and for the first time, she actually realized that they had something to do with her. Her baby. Her stroller, her car, her husband, her baby.
"This is Ali. You gave birth to her today. You and me and Ali. We're a family." She looked down at the sleeping child again. After a pregnant silence, he spoke again. "Get in the car."
* * *
"This is where we live?" Andrea asked hesitantly as she got out of the car, staring up at the two storey, Victorian-looking house on Wilson Ave.
" 'S right, pet. You didn't always live here. When you moved to Sunnydale, you lived in a smaller house a few blocks away." He took Ali out of the car and she followed him up a stylish sidewalk to the front door.
"Sunnydale. . ." she repeated. "United States?" He nodded, unlocking the door.
"Yeah. California. But you're Canadian." Spike swung the door open, and she stepped slowly inside.
The house was as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. The floors were covered in plush, forest green carpeting, the walls a bluey green colour that somehow complemented the carpet. A stunning maple staircase wound up the wall to the second floor, matching doorframes lining the openings to other rooms.
"Wow. . ." She followed him into the kitchen, where he set the baby and car seat on a casual table. When he didn't say anything, she resumed questioning him. "Why haven't you told me your first name?" He sighed, but didn't look at her, instead concentrating on simple tasks, in this case, getting himself a beer.
"The doc told me not to overload your mind. It would put too much pressure on you."
"Tell me." He paused.
"William. But nobody calls me that. It's Spike."
"What kind of a name is Spike?" He snorted. Trust her to have a reaction like that when she had amnesia.
"Long story. Most of which you won't believe just now, so I figure I'd better wait for your loving cousin to show up." He took a swig from his beer. "So how are you holding up?" He motioned for her to sit down and she obeyed. Before answering, she turned the car seat toward her so she had an unobstructed view of her daughter. She was beautiful, with a light dusting of curly blonde hair.
"I'm still. . .adjusting. So far, all I know about me is that my name is Andrea, I live in California in a beautiful house, I used to live somewhere else, I'm originally from Canada, I have a husband named after an inanimate object, a newborn baby that sleeps a lot and a loving cousin named April. That's what you've told me. And for some reason, I'm having trouble completely trusting you." He smiled sardonically.
"Well, at least you're honest about it."
"And I don't feel like a wife and mother," she admitted. Her manner had turned from distrustful to tentative. Her tone tugged at something inside of him.
"Give it time, kitten. Give it time."
"When did we get married?" Her question was so out of the blue that he was taken aback.
"Around five months." She was quiet for a moment. Then:
"Did you marry me because you got me pregnant?" He grinned.
"I proposed before you told me you were pregnant."
"How do I know that we're actually married? And that she's my baby? How do I know that anything you say is true?" Her distrustful tone was back in place as quickly as it had gone. He thought for a moment.
"We had both events video taped."
"Really? Can I see them?"
"Sure, I don't see why not. Go get set up in the living room and I'll get you a beer."
"I drink beer?"
"Yeah." With a shrug, she got up and went to the entrance to the kitchen, then paused and looked back at him. It took him a few minutes to figure out why she'd stopped. "Down the hall, last door on the left."
