Title: A Model Romance
Author: Ashley K.
Disclaimer: I own nothing BTVS or A:tS.
Chapter Four:
Buffy looked around the room as she stood in the doorway of the hall, making sure that Angelus wasn't there. He was and he had an interesting accessory. Darla Nest was hanging on his arm; her blood red nails a stark contrast to his black silk shirt. Inhaling deeply, Buffy held her head up straight and plastered the fake smile she worked so hard on perfecting throughout the years on her face.
"Mom, Giles," she greeted as they approached her, "Congrats."
"Buffy…" Joyce started. Buffy frowned; her mother's tone suggested that she wanted to talk more about Buffy's pregnancy.
"Not here, please," Buffy softly requested. "Tomorrow. Celebrate tonight."
Giles and Joyce exchanged a quick glance and Buffy's heart ached. How could she have even had doubts about their relationship? They were so obviously in love, in tune, with each other. Maybe Cordelia had been wrong all those years back.
"All right, Buffy," Giles agreed, slowly, for the both of them. Buffy smiled, an actual smile this time, and hugged each of them. Seeing Anya and Xander, Buffy went off to mingle, her fake smile still on her face as she unconsciously tracked Angelus and Darla's movement around the room.
She was helping herself to some cake when Angelus appeared next to her. "Buffy," he greeted her. Buffy stared at his expression, trying to read how this exchange would go.
"Angelus," she replied, her voice cautious. She was shocked when he laughed. "What?" she asked, annoyed.
"Do you really believe I'll pick a fight tonight?" Angelus asked, ignoring her previous question.
Her forkful of cake paused at her mouth, as Buffy carefully thought about the question. She really didn't think that he would cause a commotion, not at their parent's engagement party. Suddenly the appetizing cake looked dry and tasteless. Excusing herself, Buffy put the plate of uneaten cake down and went to the bathroom.
Splashing some cool water on her face, Buffy inhaled deeply. She had to get it together. This was Angelus, her childhood foe. And father of her child, that annoyingly insistent voice in the back of her head reminded her. Patting herself dry, Buffy decided to go to the hall's indoor garden, not really in the mood to be in anybody's company.
The feminine giggle stopped her from entering the garden. Buffy froze as she watched Angelus and Darla grope each other with equal fervor. How long she stood there was anyone's guess, but as soon as she regained her wits, she backpedaled, bumping into a bench and sitting down, hugging herself.
Why was she acting like such a schoolgirl? Buffy thought. It wasn't as if she wanted anything to do with Angelus, right?
She was still sitting there when Giles walked by. "Buffy?" he asked, his English accent somehow comforting. "Have you seen Angelus?"
If she hadn't been so shocked, Buffy probably could have gave some caviler retort. As it were, however, all she could do was motion in the general direction of the garden. Giles nodded and walked over to them, only to immediately come back to Buffy. He was no stranger to Angelus' relations with women and his heart went out to the girl he thought of as a daughter.
"Buffy," he began, "I apologize."
"What for?" she asked, her smile brittle. "Giles…" she trailed off, wondering if this was the right time to ask what she was going to be asking. She decided that it was. "I don't want Angelus to find out about the baby."
"I understand," Giles said, nodding. "I'll leave the telling up to you."
"Thank you," Buffy softly whispered, before standing up. "If its okay, I think I'm going to go home. Please let mom know?"
Kissing her on the forehead, Giles assured her that he would. Buffy drove home, trying to think of anything but the vision of Angelus and Darla that was burned into her memory. "I think I should get a cat," Buffy said out loud as she walked into her empty apartment.
Yes, she thought, a cat would be nice to have around.
She had just changed into her pajamas when a loud, insistent knock startled her. "Coming," she called out, grabbing her robe. "Who is it?"
"Open the fucking door!" Angelus' angry retort sounded out. Buffy frowned, weighing her chances of him leaving. Based on his knock and his voice, she realized the chances of him leaving, before he said what he wanted to say, were slim.
"What do you want?" she snapped out, opening the door. She leaned against the door, allowing him entrance.
"Are you pregnant?!" Angelus bit out, pacing the room.
How did he find out? She thought, as her face drained of all color. "What makes you think that?" Buffy finally spoke.
"Xander and Anya had too much to drink so, being the stepbrother that I am, I gave them both a ride home. Anya was very talkative," he simply said. "Who is the father?"
"Not you, if that's what you're worried about," Buffy lied.
"Who is the goddamned father?!" Angelus asked again.
"Why do you care?"
Buffy watched as Angelus stalked over to her, roughly grabbing her by the arms. Bracing herself for anything, Buffy never thought to guard herself from being kissed. And kissed she was. Angelus devoured her mouth and she bemoaned the fact that he still had an iron grip on her arms. She wanted nothing more than to hold him closer to her. "Am I am the father?" he asked, softly, against her mouth.
Suddenly remembering the scene of him and Darla in the gardens, Buffy struggled to be free. "No," she spat out.
Shaking her, Angelus asked again, "Who is the father!?"
The stress of finding out that she was pregnant, Angelus and Darla, Angelus' presence in her apartment, and being pregnant was all too much for her to handle. Buffy realized, detached, this as black spots appeared in her vision, growing bigger and bigger as Angelus' angry voice faded.
"Angelus, pregnant women need to be handled cautiously." Buffy woke up to an English accent and, at first, thought it was Giles, but a closer examination of the voice told her that it was not Giles.
"Pregnant," Angelus' voice said, disgusted.
Opening her eyes, Buffy immediately regretted doing so. Angelus and some stranger she had never seen before stood over her bed, staring down at her. "Ms. Summers?" the English stranger asked, "How are you feeling?"
"I've felt better," she admitted, waiting for the nausea to come. Surprisingly it did not.
"I am Doctor Wesley Pryce," he introduced himself. "Angelus is a close friend of mine and had called me when you collapsed. Now, what have you eaten today?"
"A bite of cake; nothing more," Angelus answered for her. Buffy was surprised. How did he know that?
Wesley frowned down at Buffy. "Now, Ms. Summers—"
"Call me Buffy, please," Buffy interrupted.
"Alright, Buffy, you must get a proper day's meal. You are eating for two now and not eating is very detrimental for the baby's health," Wesley gently chided her. Buffy felt ashamed. She had only known about her child for a day and was already a terrible mother.
"Don't worry too much about it, Buffy," Wesley said, taking pity on the young woman who was obviously upset. "I'm going to leave you my number, both home and office. Please call on Monday and make an appointment. Angelus, your presence will not be necessary."
With that, Wesley left. Buffy turned and stared at her illuminated alarm clock. It was one in the morning. "Angelus, did you wake that poor man just to come for me?" Buffy asked.
"What did you expect me to do? Step over your prone body and leave?" Angelus retorted.
"Yes," Buffy snapped back. She was pleasantly surprised when Angelus closed his eyes and sighed. "Well, I'm fine now. Thank you for taking care of me. You can leave now."
"No, I can't. You're laying there, a full set of my prints on your arms," Angelus gently said, surprising Buffy, again, with his tone of voice. She glanced at her arms. Sure enough Angelus had left ten finger-shaped bruises on her arm. "Stay," he commanded as he left the room.
Laying back into her pillows, Buffy wondered what he was doing as she heard pots and pans being banged around in the kitchen. She hoped he wasn't destroying her kitchen in a fit of rage. Moments later, Angelus walked back into the room, carefully balancing a tray, setting the tray on her lap. Buffy ruefully smiled. Chicken and stars soup.
"All you have in your kitchen is a container of orange juice and a couple cans of that," Angelus accused.
Ignoring him, Buffy tasted the soup. He had burned it. Buffy marveled at how anyone could burn condensed soup, but she continued eating it, not really wanting to fight over something as trivial as soup.
"Buffy," Angelus softly said, kneeling next to her bed, reaching for her hand. "I'm sorry. I'm possessive and I've got a jealous streak a mile wide. I jump to conclusions and have a terrible temper. I know all of this…but, please, tell me, is the child mine?"
Freezing, Buffy bit her lip. "No," she softly said, remembering Angelus and Darla in the garden once more. "It isn't."
"Are you positive?"
"I have never been more sure about anything in my life," Buffy answered. She watched, uninterested, as Angelus stalked out of her bedroom. She jumped, slightly, as her apartment door slammed shut.
Buffy tried to finish the soup that Angelus had made her. She had done the right thing, she told herself. Angelus was a rich and powerful man. He needed an intelligent and powerful woman to stand by him. Buffy was not the woman he needed, nor was Angelus the man she needed.
She knew she was wrong in denying her child its father. "It's for the best," she softly said, stroking the tiny bulge that she now knew to be her child.
Sighing, she picked up her spoon, bringing the last bite to her mouth. Suddenly she found the entire situation humorous and Buffy couldn't contain her laughter. She laughed, almost hysterically, and barely noticed when her laughter turned into tears.
He burned the soup, she thought, he burned the soup and admitted to being jealous. And I ate the damned soup.
Buffy finished out the week and told Rona about her pregnancy. She was pleasantly surprised when Rona congratulated her. Buffy was fully prepared for an explosion on Rona's part. A pregnant model was an unemployable model.
Rona, however, reassured Buffy that, Buffy's contract would be placed on hold until Buffy had the baby and was prepared to go back to work. Buffy thanked her boss and left the modeling agency, en route to Wesley's office.
She found it an interesting coincidence that Angelus' friend, Wesley, was an ob/gyn. "Buffy, I'm glad to see you," Wesley greeted, looking her over. "You look much better today."
"Thanks," Buffy said, accepting the compliment. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, great even," Wesley said, smiling the distracted smile that only people in love seemed to have.
"Who is she?" Buffy asked, teasingly.
"Fred," Wesley answered, ruefully. Buffy raised an eyebrow. She hadn't pegged Wesley as being gay; after years of working in the fashion industry, Buffy had thought that she was pretty good at spotting homosexuals. "Winifred Burkle," Wesley hurriedly clarified, correctly reading into Buffy's stare.
"Maybe you should introduce her like that first," Buffy advised.
A half an hour later, Buffy jumped off the examination table. "So, how's Junior?" Buffy asked.
"Junior is fine, Mommy is too," Wesley answered, "And how's Daddy? Last time I saw Angelus he was a wreck."
"Angelus is not the father," Buffy immediately denied.
Wesley stared at her. He had known Angelus since they were nineteen and, after one night out clubbing, Angelus had drunkenly proclaimed his undying love to the tiny woman standing before him. And after the scene he walked into the week before, Wesley had immediately assumed that Angelus had finally got the courage to tell her. Apparently not. He nodded to himself; that would explain Angelus' single-handed attempt to drink all the scotch in California.
"Ah, my apologies, Buffy," Wesley said. "Now, just give this to Louise on your way out and make another appointment. I'll see you then."
"Thanks, Wesley," Buffy said, taking the stack of papers from Wesley.
Finishing up her errands for the day, Buffy contentedly rested her feet on her coffee table as she wondered what she was going to get herself for dinner. Her doorbell stopped all thoughts. Frowning, Buffy hauled herself to her feet and answered the door.
"Delivery for Ms. Summers." Buffy stared, confused at the delivery boy and the parcels of food he had carefully balanced in his arms.
"I didn't…"
"Oh, I know," he said. "It's a present or a surprise or something. Everything's all paid for."
"Thank you," Buffy said, digging through her pockets for a tip.
"Tip, too," the delivery happily said, his tone suggesting that the tip had been a fairly large one. Buffy accepted the parcels of food and shut the door. Greedily, she opened the containers, almost squealing with joy. Chinese food, all of her favorites.
"Yummy," she said, rummaging for the chopsticks that she hoped would be there. She was not disappointed. Eating her gift straight from the cartons, Buffy was only able to eat about half of it, sighing her contentment as she put the chopsticks down. "Looks like Chinese for breakfast, Junior," she mused out loud.
Packing the remaining food along side her admittedly empty refrigerator, Buffy made a mental note to go grocery shopping the next day. Changing into her pajamas, Buffy slipped into bed, falling asleep as soon as she closed her eyes, a first since she found out that she was pregnant.
Author: Ashley K.
Disclaimer: I own nothing BTVS or A:tS.
Chapter Four:
Buffy looked around the room as she stood in the doorway of the hall, making sure that Angelus wasn't there. He was and he had an interesting accessory. Darla Nest was hanging on his arm; her blood red nails a stark contrast to his black silk shirt. Inhaling deeply, Buffy held her head up straight and plastered the fake smile she worked so hard on perfecting throughout the years on her face.
"Mom, Giles," she greeted as they approached her, "Congrats."
"Buffy…" Joyce started. Buffy frowned; her mother's tone suggested that she wanted to talk more about Buffy's pregnancy.
"Not here, please," Buffy softly requested. "Tomorrow. Celebrate tonight."
Giles and Joyce exchanged a quick glance and Buffy's heart ached. How could she have even had doubts about their relationship? They were so obviously in love, in tune, with each other. Maybe Cordelia had been wrong all those years back.
"All right, Buffy," Giles agreed, slowly, for the both of them. Buffy smiled, an actual smile this time, and hugged each of them. Seeing Anya and Xander, Buffy went off to mingle, her fake smile still on her face as she unconsciously tracked Angelus and Darla's movement around the room.
She was helping herself to some cake when Angelus appeared next to her. "Buffy," he greeted her. Buffy stared at his expression, trying to read how this exchange would go.
"Angelus," she replied, her voice cautious. She was shocked when he laughed. "What?" she asked, annoyed.
"Do you really believe I'll pick a fight tonight?" Angelus asked, ignoring her previous question.
Her forkful of cake paused at her mouth, as Buffy carefully thought about the question. She really didn't think that he would cause a commotion, not at their parent's engagement party. Suddenly the appetizing cake looked dry and tasteless. Excusing herself, Buffy put the plate of uneaten cake down and went to the bathroom.
Splashing some cool water on her face, Buffy inhaled deeply. She had to get it together. This was Angelus, her childhood foe. And father of her child, that annoyingly insistent voice in the back of her head reminded her. Patting herself dry, Buffy decided to go to the hall's indoor garden, not really in the mood to be in anybody's company.
The feminine giggle stopped her from entering the garden. Buffy froze as she watched Angelus and Darla grope each other with equal fervor. How long she stood there was anyone's guess, but as soon as she regained her wits, she backpedaled, bumping into a bench and sitting down, hugging herself.
Why was she acting like such a schoolgirl? Buffy thought. It wasn't as if she wanted anything to do with Angelus, right?
She was still sitting there when Giles walked by. "Buffy?" he asked, his English accent somehow comforting. "Have you seen Angelus?"
If she hadn't been so shocked, Buffy probably could have gave some caviler retort. As it were, however, all she could do was motion in the general direction of the garden. Giles nodded and walked over to them, only to immediately come back to Buffy. He was no stranger to Angelus' relations with women and his heart went out to the girl he thought of as a daughter.
"Buffy," he began, "I apologize."
"What for?" she asked, her smile brittle. "Giles…" she trailed off, wondering if this was the right time to ask what she was going to be asking. She decided that it was. "I don't want Angelus to find out about the baby."
"I understand," Giles said, nodding. "I'll leave the telling up to you."
"Thank you," Buffy softly whispered, before standing up. "If its okay, I think I'm going to go home. Please let mom know?"
Kissing her on the forehead, Giles assured her that he would. Buffy drove home, trying to think of anything but the vision of Angelus and Darla that was burned into her memory. "I think I should get a cat," Buffy said out loud as she walked into her empty apartment.
Yes, she thought, a cat would be nice to have around.
She had just changed into her pajamas when a loud, insistent knock startled her. "Coming," she called out, grabbing her robe. "Who is it?"
"Open the fucking door!" Angelus' angry retort sounded out. Buffy frowned, weighing her chances of him leaving. Based on his knock and his voice, she realized the chances of him leaving, before he said what he wanted to say, were slim.
"What do you want?" she snapped out, opening the door. She leaned against the door, allowing him entrance.
"Are you pregnant?!" Angelus bit out, pacing the room.
How did he find out? She thought, as her face drained of all color. "What makes you think that?" Buffy finally spoke.
"Xander and Anya had too much to drink so, being the stepbrother that I am, I gave them both a ride home. Anya was very talkative," he simply said. "Who is the father?"
"Not you, if that's what you're worried about," Buffy lied.
"Who is the goddamned father?!" Angelus asked again.
"Why do you care?"
Buffy watched as Angelus stalked over to her, roughly grabbing her by the arms. Bracing herself for anything, Buffy never thought to guard herself from being kissed. And kissed she was. Angelus devoured her mouth and she bemoaned the fact that he still had an iron grip on her arms. She wanted nothing more than to hold him closer to her. "Am I am the father?" he asked, softly, against her mouth.
Suddenly remembering the scene of him and Darla in the gardens, Buffy struggled to be free. "No," she spat out.
Shaking her, Angelus asked again, "Who is the father!?"
The stress of finding out that she was pregnant, Angelus and Darla, Angelus' presence in her apartment, and being pregnant was all too much for her to handle. Buffy realized, detached, this as black spots appeared in her vision, growing bigger and bigger as Angelus' angry voice faded.
"Angelus, pregnant women need to be handled cautiously." Buffy woke up to an English accent and, at first, thought it was Giles, but a closer examination of the voice told her that it was not Giles.
"Pregnant," Angelus' voice said, disgusted.
Opening her eyes, Buffy immediately regretted doing so. Angelus and some stranger she had never seen before stood over her bed, staring down at her. "Ms. Summers?" the English stranger asked, "How are you feeling?"
"I've felt better," she admitted, waiting for the nausea to come. Surprisingly it did not.
"I am Doctor Wesley Pryce," he introduced himself. "Angelus is a close friend of mine and had called me when you collapsed. Now, what have you eaten today?"
"A bite of cake; nothing more," Angelus answered for her. Buffy was surprised. How did he know that?
Wesley frowned down at Buffy. "Now, Ms. Summers—"
"Call me Buffy, please," Buffy interrupted.
"Alright, Buffy, you must get a proper day's meal. You are eating for two now and not eating is very detrimental for the baby's health," Wesley gently chided her. Buffy felt ashamed. She had only known about her child for a day and was already a terrible mother.
"Don't worry too much about it, Buffy," Wesley said, taking pity on the young woman who was obviously upset. "I'm going to leave you my number, both home and office. Please call on Monday and make an appointment. Angelus, your presence will not be necessary."
With that, Wesley left. Buffy turned and stared at her illuminated alarm clock. It was one in the morning. "Angelus, did you wake that poor man just to come for me?" Buffy asked.
"What did you expect me to do? Step over your prone body and leave?" Angelus retorted.
"Yes," Buffy snapped back. She was pleasantly surprised when Angelus closed his eyes and sighed. "Well, I'm fine now. Thank you for taking care of me. You can leave now."
"No, I can't. You're laying there, a full set of my prints on your arms," Angelus gently said, surprising Buffy, again, with his tone of voice. She glanced at her arms. Sure enough Angelus had left ten finger-shaped bruises on her arm. "Stay," he commanded as he left the room.
Laying back into her pillows, Buffy wondered what he was doing as she heard pots and pans being banged around in the kitchen. She hoped he wasn't destroying her kitchen in a fit of rage. Moments later, Angelus walked back into the room, carefully balancing a tray, setting the tray on her lap. Buffy ruefully smiled. Chicken and stars soup.
"All you have in your kitchen is a container of orange juice and a couple cans of that," Angelus accused.
Ignoring him, Buffy tasted the soup. He had burned it. Buffy marveled at how anyone could burn condensed soup, but she continued eating it, not really wanting to fight over something as trivial as soup.
"Buffy," Angelus softly said, kneeling next to her bed, reaching for her hand. "I'm sorry. I'm possessive and I've got a jealous streak a mile wide. I jump to conclusions and have a terrible temper. I know all of this…but, please, tell me, is the child mine?"
Freezing, Buffy bit her lip. "No," she softly said, remembering Angelus and Darla in the garden once more. "It isn't."
"Are you positive?"
"I have never been more sure about anything in my life," Buffy answered. She watched, uninterested, as Angelus stalked out of her bedroom. She jumped, slightly, as her apartment door slammed shut.
Buffy tried to finish the soup that Angelus had made her. She had done the right thing, she told herself. Angelus was a rich and powerful man. He needed an intelligent and powerful woman to stand by him. Buffy was not the woman he needed, nor was Angelus the man she needed.
She knew she was wrong in denying her child its father. "It's for the best," she softly said, stroking the tiny bulge that she now knew to be her child.
Sighing, she picked up her spoon, bringing the last bite to her mouth. Suddenly she found the entire situation humorous and Buffy couldn't contain her laughter. She laughed, almost hysterically, and barely noticed when her laughter turned into tears.
He burned the soup, she thought, he burned the soup and admitted to being jealous. And I ate the damned soup.
Buffy finished out the week and told Rona about her pregnancy. She was pleasantly surprised when Rona congratulated her. Buffy was fully prepared for an explosion on Rona's part. A pregnant model was an unemployable model.
Rona, however, reassured Buffy that, Buffy's contract would be placed on hold until Buffy had the baby and was prepared to go back to work. Buffy thanked her boss and left the modeling agency, en route to Wesley's office.
She found it an interesting coincidence that Angelus' friend, Wesley, was an ob/gyn. "Buffy, I'm glad to see you," Wesley greeted, looking her over. "You look much better today."
"Thanks," Buffy said, accepting the compliment. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, great even," Wesley said, smiling the distracted smile that only people in love seemed to have.
"Who is she?" Buffy asked, teasingly.
"Fred," Wesley answered, ruefully. Buffy raised an eyebrow. She hadn't pegged Wesley as being gay; after years of working in the fashion industry, Buffy had thought that she was pretty good at spotting homosexuals. "Winifred Burkle," Wesley hurriedly clarified, correctly reading into Buffy's stare.
"Maybe you should introduce her like that first," Buffy advised.
A half an hour later, Buffy jumped off the examination table. "So, how's Junior?" Buffy asked.
"Junior is fine, Mommy is too," Wesley answered, "And how's Daddy? Last time I saw Angelus he was a wreck."
"Angelus is not the father," Buffy immediately denied.
Wesley stared at her. He had known Angelus since they were nineteen and, after one night out clubbing, Angelus had drunkenly proclaimed his undying love to the tiny woman standing before him. And after the scene he walked into the week before, Wesley had immediately assumed that Angelus had finally got the courage to tell her. Apparently not. He nodded to himself; that would explain Angelus' single-handed attempt to drink all the scotch in California.
"Ah, my apologies, Buffy," Wesley said. "Now, just give this to Louise on your way out and make another appointment. I'll see you then."
"Thanks, Wesley," Buffy said, taking the stack of papers from Wesley.
Finishing up her errands for the day, Buffy contentedly rested her feet on her coffee table as she wondered what she was going to get herself for dinner. Her doorbell stopped all thoughts. Frowning, Buffy hauled herself to her feet and answered the door.
"Delivery for Ms. Summers." Buffy stared, confused at the delivery boy and the parcels of food he had carefully balanced in his arms.
"I didn't…"
"Oh, I know," he said. "It's a present or a surprise or something. Everything's all paid for."
"Thank you," Buffy said, digging through her pockets for a tip.
"Tip, too," the delivery happily said, his tone suggesting that the tip had been a fairly large one. Buffy accepted the parcels of food and shut the door. Greedily, she opened the containers, almost squealing with joy. Chinese food, all of her favorites.
"Yummy," she said, rummaging for the chopsticks that she hoped would be there. She was not disappointed. Eating her gift straight from the cartons, Buffy was only able to eat about half of it, sighing her contentment as she put the chopsticks down. "Looks like Chinese for breakfast, Junior," she mused out loud.
Packing the remaining food along side her admittedly empty refrigerator, Buffy made a mental note to go grocery shopping the next day. Changing into her pajamas, Buffy slipped into bed, falling asleep as soon as she closed her eyes, a first since she found out that she was pregnant.