***
Two things I wanted to mention: no, I haven't forgotten that Angel can't make 'little vampires', and I'm not ignoring that part of canon. I have reasoning behind Buffy's pregnancy; it just won't come up until later.
And secondly, keep in mind that this is a complete post-s3 AU...this means that things that occurred in BTVS s4-7 and AtS s1-5 are *not* given to happen...even the most basic of things. Just wanted to mention that...you'll understand why after you read (and I write) the second fic in the series.
That's all! And thank you to everyone for the wonderful feedback on part 5!
Isis
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Part 6
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Buffy groaned as she tripped yet again, almost having a face-first meeting with the sidewalk. She internally cursed herself for thinking she could walk all the way across town carrying three huge duffle bags. Normally her Slayer strength would make the task a lot easier, but her physical weakness from lack of sleep and not eating properly was getting the best of her plus the added stresses of her pregnancy and the fall out with her friends and family.
Of course she'd made things worse, too, by opting to go to the motel on the farthest edge of town. It was the best way to avoid running into anyone she didn't want to see. Not that she expected them to be looking for her anyway, but she figured it was best to not take chances.
Feeling a little dizzy, Buffy found a tree to rest against. She let the bags on her shoulders fall to the ground as she leaned against the tree, panting slightly. For what seemed like the hundredth time that day she felt tears forming in her eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, the moisture slowly receded which Buffy was grateful for. She didn't want to be seen standing along the sidewalk sobbing.
After a few minutes had passed, Buffy bent over to pick up her bags. Her vision swirled slightly causing her to reach out and grasp the trunk of the tree. When the dizziness passed she shouldered the heavy bags once again and continued toward the motel.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^
Cordelia Chase angrily jiggled the key to her motel room, muttering under her breath about how the stupid key always got stuck. She wanted to get inside as quickly as possible before anyone saw her at such a low class place. But of course her room key had other ideas. She stomped a foot in fury, thinking about how this wouldn't have happened at the four-star hotels and resorts she was used to.
With a tug, she pulled the key out of the lock and then pushed it back in. Again trying to turn the key, she found it still wouldn't unlock. Flopping back against the uncooperative door, a slight movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention.
Turning, the brunette cheerleader stared across the darkening parking lot. She could barely make out the figure of a person walking in her direction. Taking a few steps toward the person, Cordelia found herself staring at an all too familiar female struggling to make her way across the parking lot. She gaped in shock at the site, wondering what the Hell Buffy was doing at a motel with what looked like bags hanging off her shoulders.
Nearly grunting from the physical exertion, Buffy shuffled off the sidewalk and toward the office of the motel. Her whole body ached from exhaustion. Everything seemed to be catching up with her at once: the lack of sleep, hardly eating, and the emotional strain of the day's events. All of it was taking a heavy toll on her mind and body. Trying to refocus herself, she pushed forward, knowing she had only a little more to go before she could rest.
Only a few more feet, she had told herself when suddenly her foot tripped over a large crack in the pavement. Frantically, she tried to rebalance her body, but under the weight of the bags she was carrying and her worn out body she was unsuccessful and soon went crashing to the ground. Her already throbbing head slammed into the ground for the second time that day.
"Oh my God! Buffy!" Cordelia shrieked as she watched the Slayer fall in a heap to the ground.
Rushing over to her sometimes-friend, Cordelia abruptly stopped when she saw the state of the blonde haired girl. She'd seen Buffy beaten up after a battle before, but what she saw now caused even her to cringe. An angry, three-inch gash was oozing blood on her forehead, but it was Buffy's eyes that caught Cordelia's attention the most. They were red, puffy and had a sunken look to them as well as having large, dark circles beneath.
Cordelia found herself only able to stare for a moment, completely shocked by the Slayer's obvious state of distress. She'd never seen Buffy look so bad. Finally, she snapped out her daze when she saw Buffy weakly attempting to pick herself up off the ground.
"Buffy?" she spoke hesitantly.
Buffy shook her head slightly, trying to pull herself together, but everything was spinning in her head. She faintly heard someone call her name and lifted her eyes to look toward the voice. The movement was too much for her over-stressed system and she fell back down to the ground, slipping into unconsciousness.
"Buffy!" Cordelia yelped when she saw Buffy fall again and make no effort to get back up.
Rushing over to the fallen girl, she realized the Buffy was no longer conscious. Her brow scrunched as she tried to figure out what to do. Should she call an ambulance? Her memory flashed back to a year earlier when Buffy had had the flu and been admitted to the hospital and had fought it every second. No, the hospital was probably not such a good idea.
She looked toward the still closed door to her room which was only about ten feet away. Her lips formed a frown as she considered the idea of carrying the Slayer the few feet. She looked back and forth between the unconscious girl and her door before sighing and bending over to pull one of Buffy's arms over her shoulder.
"Good thing you're so small," she grumbled as she struggled to pull Buffy up off the ground.
As she was attempting to lift Buffy's body, someone off to her right suddenly spoke up. "Do you need some help, miss?"
Cordelia looked over to see a man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties walking toward her. She studied him quickly, trying to decide if it was wise to accept his help. His clothing left something to be desired, but he didn't look like an axe murderer and since it was still somewhat light out he couldn't be a vamp so she opted to accept his offer. She hadn't really wanted to carry Buffy anyway.
"Umm, yeah. Could you help me get her to my room? It's right over there," she pointed to her door.
"She doesn't look okay. Maybe we should call an ambulance," he suggested helpfully.
"No! Uh, I mean, no, that's okay. She's just, uh, been sick and fainted. She'd hate it if we called an ambulance," Cordelia lied, although she was internally wondering if the man was right. Who was he anyway? His accent made it obvious that he wasn't from around here.
"Okay, if you say so. Why don't you go open your door and I'll bring her over." The man easily lifted Buffy up into his arms and followed Cordy to her room.
Thankfully, the door opened easily this time and they entered into the room. "Umm, just put her on the bed."
"Okay," he gently laid the unconscious girl down.
"Thank you so much," Cordy smiled slightly.
"No problem. Let's go out and get her bags before someone steals them," he recommended already walking out the door.
Following him out, Cordelia went to lift one of the bags only to find the action impossible. "Geez, what the hell does she have in these things," she muttered to no one in particular.
The man chuckled at the statement. "Yeah, they are pretty heavy."
Together, Cordelia and the good Samaritan managed to get all three bags into the room with only a little bit of struggled. The man glanced towards Buffy, frowning at the way the tiny girl looked.
"Are you sure she'll be all right?" he asked in concern.
"Yeah, she'll be okay," Cordelia shrugged, hoping she was right. "Thank you for helping me out."
"You're welcome," he nodded his head, staring at her for a moment before quietly exiting the room.
Closing the door behind him, Cordelia walked over to one of the grimy chairs and flopped down on it. She stared worriedly at Buffy's still figure on the bed. Millions of questions were running through her mind. First and foremost being what the Hell was going on? Buffy looked like shit. And why did she have so many bags and look like she was going to get a room at the motel?
And why did she care anyway? Her and Buffy had never really been friends. For some reason, though, she found herself feeling concerned for the unconscious girl on her bed. Buffy had always been so strong and vibrant. It had sometimes made her jealous of the girl. To see her now looking like, well, crap it was more than a little shocking. Whatever was going on must be really bad to have affected Buffy the way it did.
Realizing she wasn't going to get any answers at the moment, Cordelia slumped back in her chair and tried to figure out something to do. Propping her feet up on another chair she picked up the latest issue of Vogue magazine. Her eyes peaked over toward Buffy once more before she settled into reading the magazine.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^
TBC!
Two things I wanted to mention: no, I haven't forgotten that Angel can't make 'little vampires', and I'm not ignoring that part of canon. I have reasoning behind Buffy's pregnancy; it just won't come up until later.
And secondly, keep in mind that this is a complete post-s3 AU...this means that things that occurred in BTVS s4-7 and AtS s1-5 are *not* given to happen...even the most basic of things. Just wanted to mention that...you'll understand why after you read (and I write) the second fic in the series.
That's all! And thank you to everyone for the wonderful feedback on part 5!
Isis
^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^
Part 6
^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^
Buffy groaned as she tripped yet again, almost having a face-first meeting with the sidewalk. She internally cursed herself for thinking she could walk all the way across town carrying three huge duffle bags. Normally her Slayer strength would make the task a lot easier, but her physical weakness from lack of sleep and not eating properly was getting the best of her plus the added stresses of her pregnancy and the fall out with her friends and family.
Of course she'd made things worse, too, by opting to go to the motel on the farthest edge of town. It was the best way to avoid running into anyone she didn't want to see. Not that she expected them to be looking for her anyway, but she figured it was best to not take chances.
Feeling a little dizzy, Buffy found a tree to rest against. She let the bags on her shoulders fall to the ground as she leaned against the tree, panting slightly. For what seemed like the hundredth time that day she felt tears forming in her eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, the moisture slowly receded which Buffy was grateful for. She didn't want to be seen standing along the sidewalk sobbing.
After a few minutes had passed, Buffy bent over to pick up her bags. Her vision swirled slightly causing her to reach out and grasp the trunk of the tree. When the dizziness passed she shouldered the heavy bags once again and continued toward the motel.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^
Cordelia Chase angrily jiggled the key to her motel room, muttering under her breath about how the stupid key always got stuck. She wanted to get inside as quickly as possible before anyone saw her at such a low class place. But of course her room key had other ideas. She stomped a foot in fury, thinking about how this wouldn't have happened at the four-star hotels and resorts she was used to.
With a tug, she pulled the key out of the lock and then pushed it back in. Again trying to turn the key, she found it still wouldn't unlock. Flopping back against the uncooperative door, a slight movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention.
Turning, the brunette cheerleader stared across the darkening parking lot. She could barely make out the figure of a person walking in her direction. Taking a few steps toward the person, Cordelia found herself staring at an all too familiar female struggling to make her way across the parking lot. She gaped in shock at the site, wondering what the Hell Buffy was doing at a motel with what looked like bags hanging off her shoulders.
Nearly grunting from the physical exertion, Buffy shuffled off the sidewalk and toward the office of the motel. Her whole body ached from exhaustion. Everything seemed to be catching up with her at once: the lack of sleep, hardly eating, and the emotional strain of the day's events. All of it was taking a heavy toll on her mind and body. Trying to refocus herself, she pushed forward, knowing she had only a little more to go before she could rest.
Only a few more feet, she had told herself when suddenly her foot tripped over a large crack in the pavement. Frantically, she tried to rebalance her body, but under the weight of the bags she was carrying and her worn out body she was unsuccessful and soon went crashing to the ground. Her already throbbing head slammed into the ground for the second time that day.
"Oh my God! Buffy!" Cordelia shrieked as she watched the Slayer fall in a heap to the ground.
Rushing over to her sometimes-friend, Cordelia abruptly stopped when she saw the state of the blonde haired girl. She'd seen Buffy beaten up after a battle before, but what she saw now caused even her to cringe. An angry, three-inch gash was oozing blood on her forehead, but it was Buffy's eyes that caught Cordelia's attention the most. They were red, puffy and had a sunken look to them as well as having large, dark circles beneath.
Cordelia found herself only able to stare for a moment, completely shocked by the Slayer's obvious state of distress. She'd never seen Buffy look so bad. Finally, she snapped out her daze when she saw Buffy weakly attempting to pick herself up off the ground.
"Buffy?" she spoke hesitantly.
Buffy shook her head slightly, trying to pull herself together, but everything was spinning in her head. She faintly heard someone call her name and lifted her eyes to look toward the voice. The movement was too much for her over-stressed system and she fell back down to the ground, slipping into unconsciousness.
"Buffy!" Cordelia yelped when she saw Buffy fall again and make no effort to get back up.
Rushing over to the fallen girl, she realized the Buffy was no longer conscious. Her brow scrunched as she tried to figure out what to do. Should she call an ambulance? Her memory flashed back to a year earlier when Buffy had had the flu and been admitted to the hospital and had fought it every second. No, the hospital was probably not such a good idea.
She looked toward the still closed door to her room which was only about ten feet away. Her lips formed a frown as she considered the idea of carrying the Slayer the few feet. She looked back and forth between the unconscious girl and her door before sighing and bending over to pull one of Buffy's arms over her shoulder.
"Good thing you're so small," she grumbled as she struggled to pull Buffy up off the ground.
As she was attempting to lift Buffy's body, someone off to her right suddenly spoke up. "Do you need some help, miss?"
Cordelia looked over to see a man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties walking toward her. She studied him quickly, trying to decide if it was wise to accept his help. His clothing left something to be desired, but he didn't look like an axe murderer and since it was still somewhat light out he couldn't be a vamp so she opted to accept his offer. She hadn't really wanted to carry Buffy anyway.
"Umm, yeah. Could you help me get her to my room? It's right over there," she pointed to her door.
"She doesn't look okay. Maybe we should call an ambulance," he suggested helpfully.
"No! Uh, I mean, no, that's okay. She's just, uh, been sick and fainted. She'd hate it if we called an ambulance," Cordelia lied, although she was internally wondering if the man was right. Who was he anyway? His accent made it obvious that he wasn't from around here.
"Okay, if you say so. Why don't you go open your door and I'll bring her over." The man easily lifted Buffy up into his arms and followed Cordy to her room.
Thankfully, the door opened easily this time and they entered into the room. "Umm, just put her on the bed."
"Okay," he gently laid the unconscious girl down.
"Thank you so much," Cordy smiled slightly.
"No problem. Let's go out and get her bags before someone steals them," he recommended already walking out the door.
Following him out, Cordelia went to lift one of the bags only to find the action impossible. "Geez, what the hell does she have in these things," she muttered to no one in particular.
The man chuckled at the statement. "Yeah, they are pretty heavy."
Together, Cordelia and the good Samaritan managed to get all three bags into the room with only a little bit of struggled. The man glanced towards Buffy, frowning at the way the tiny girl looked.
"Are you sure she'll be all right?" he asked in concern.
"Yeah, she'll be okay," Cordelia shrugged, hoping she was right. "Thank you for helping me out."
"You're welcome," he nodded his head, staring at her for a moment before quietly exiting the room.
Closing the door behind him, Cordelia walked over to one of the grimy chairs and flopped down on it. She stared worriedly at Buffy's still figure on the bed. Millions of questions were running through her mind. First and foremost being what the Hell was going on? Buffy looked like shit. And why did she have so many bags and look like she was going to get a room at the motel?
And why did she care anyway? Her and Buffy had never really been friends. For some reason, though, she found herself feeling concerned for the unconscious girl on her bed. Buffy had always been so strong and vibrant. It had sometimes made her jealous of the girl. To see her now looking like, well, crap it was more than a little shocking. Whatever was going on must be really bad to have affected Buffy the way it did.
Realizing she wasn't going to get any answers at the moment, Cordelia slumped back in her chair and tried to figure out something to do. Propping her feet up on another chair she picked up the latest issue of Vogue magazine. Her eyes peaked over toward Buffy once more before she settled into reading the magazine.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^
TBC!