Apologies: To any of you who are still paying attention to this one, my
apologies. It has been months between chapters. My only excuse is that
same old headache for any fic writer: Real Life.
This chapter is un-beta'd, so readers beware!
Disclaimers and story info located at Chapters 1 and 4.
Strange, how the little things happen almost unconsciously. Must have been channeling her mom when she offered Quinton a chair in the living room (not the couch, for Christ's sakes), stupidly asking if he would like something to drink. He refused both, settling instead for standing in the entry, and apologizing that he must be so brief.
"Early retirement."
"What?" Buffy had been severely overusing the word during the past few hours. *Today's Sesame Street has been brought to you by the color yellow, the number two, and the word 'what'.*
"That's what I've come to offer; retirement from your active duties. Another slayer will be sent here for you to train."
"What's the matter, you guys run out of Watchers?"
"Hardly. May I be perfectly frank?"
"Please do."
"You've outlived nearly all previous slayers. To do so requires a certain amount of resourcefulness, cunning, and strength that the Council wants passed on. Ironically, it is due to your original failure in facing the Master that we are presented with this unique opportunity: having a seasoned slayer available to train new ones."
"New ones, as in more than one?"
"I've left a proposal in your dining room which will explain everything."
Buffy glanced into the next room. A blue folder lay atop a placemat on the table. Didn't the color mean something? Calming, healing? A desperate attempt at distraction? "All this and raise Faith's baby?"
"The proposal outlines the benefits afforded to you, if you choose to do so. I would love to continue, but I've been here nearly an hour, and I do have other business to attend to. Please, do read the proposal. Go over it with an attorney, an accountant. When you've reached a decision, call me. There's a number on the inside cover. But keep in mind that I will be in Sunnydale for a mere forty-eight hours."
"Great. I have two days to make the biggest decision of my life."
"The laws of nature adhere to no man's schedule. Childbirth included. Thank you, Miss Summers, for your time." And he was gone; out through the front door she hadn't even closed. The entire day could be misconstrued as a vivid dream, were it not for the folder waiting on the dining room table.
"Will?" She called. The girl seemed to materialize, but common sense reckoned that she had been in the kitchen throughout, bearing witness to a barely believable conversation. "Where's Dawn?"
"She's staying over at Janice's, remember?"
"Right. Can you have Xander and Giles pick you guys up? I need everyone to meet me at the Magic Box in an hour."
"Sure. You okay?"
"Been better." The slayer had already disappeared out the front door and into the night, blue folder in hand. Time for a talk with the most pragmatic of the Scoobies.
* * * * *
"You've seen the figures?" Anya questioned, although her inflection on the words was that of a statement.
"Yes."
"And you're not sure what to do?" Again, a statement.
"That's why I came here. To get your practical advice."
"Exactly. Really there's only one question." Spoken so nonchalantly, almost to the point of irritation, but not quite.
"Which is.?"
"Do you want to die?" An actual question, spoken slowly, annunciated nearly to death.
"Of course not."
"All right. So take the deal."
"That's it? Just "take the deal"?"
"Yes. If you don't want to die, take the deal. I mean, you'd almost be a Watcher. And look at how long they live. Although you may wind up getting knocked in the head on a regular basis."
"There. See? How does adopting Faith's baby fit into that?"
"That was sarcasm. The new slayer would bring her own watcher, who would be getting the knocks in the head."
"I know. But what it comes down do is: can I adopt a child?"
"Most humans raise children. You'll do fine. Besides, do you think the Watchers' Council would do better?" Silence fell for a moment, Buffy considering the demon's advice. So many of her major life decisions could be traced back to the words of a demon.
Then came an all-to-eager request. "May I look at the figures one more time?" The slayer nodded, eliciting a grin from across the table. Anya leafed through the pages excitedly, nodding to herself, breaking only to repeat her suggestion.
"Early retirement. Train slayers. Raise a child. Salary plus an unlimited expense account. Yes. Take the deal."
"You think?"
TBC
Disclaimers and story info located at Chapters 1 and 4.
Strange, how the little things happen almost unconsciously. Must have been channeling her mom when she offered Quinton a chair in the living room (not the couch, for Christ's sakes), stupidly asking if he would like something to drink. He refused both, settling instead for standing in the entry, and apologizing that he must be so brief.
"Early retirement."
"What?" Buffy had been severely overusing the word during the past few hours. *Today's Sesame Street has been brought to you by the color yellow, the number two, and the word 'what'.*
"That's what I've come to offer; retirement from your active duties. Another slayer will be sent here for you to train."
"What's the matter, you guys run out of Watchers?"
"Hardly. May I be perfectly frank?"
"Please do."
"You've outlived nearly all previous slayers. To do so requires a certain amount of resourcefulness, cunning, and strength that the Council wants passed on. Ironically, it is due to your original failure in facing the Master that we are presented with this unique opportunity: having a seasoned slayer available to train new ones."
"New ones, as in more than one?"
"I've left a proposal in your dining room which will explain everything."
Buffy glanced into the next room. A blue folder lay atop a placemat on the table. Didn't the color mean something? Calming, healing? A desperate attempt at distraction? "All this and raise Faith's baby?"
"The proposal outlines the benefits afforded to you, if you choose to do so. I would love to continue, but I've been here nearly an hour, and I do have other business to attend to. Please, do read the proposal. Go over it with an attorney, an accountant. When you've reached a decision, call me. There's a number on the inside cover. But keep in mind that I will be in Sunnydale for a mere forty-eight hours."
"Great. I have two days to make the biggest decision of my life."
"The laws of nature adhere to no man's schedule. Childbirth included. Thank you, Miss Summers, for your time." And he was gone; out through the front door she hadn't even closed. The entire day could be misconstrued as a vivid dream, were it not for the folder waiting on the dining room table.
"Will?" She called. The girl seemed to materialize, but common sense reckoned that she had been in the kitchen throughout, bearing witness to a barely believable conversation. "Where's Dawn?"
"She's staying over at Janice's, remember?"
"Right. Can you have Xander and Giles pick you guys up? I need everyone to meet me at the Magic Box in an hour."
"Sure. You okay?"
"Been better." The slayer had already disappeared out the front door and into the night, blue folder in hand. Time for a talk with the most pragmatic of the Scoobies.
* * * * *
"You've seen the figures?" Anya questioned, although her inflection on the words was that of a statement.
"Yes."
"And you're not sure what to do?" Again, a statement.
"That's why I came here. To get your practical advice."
"Exactly. Really there's only one question." Spoken so nonchalantly, almost to the point of irritation, but not quite.
"Which is.?"
"Do you want to die?" An actual question, spoken slowly, annunciated nearly to death.
"Of course not."
"All right. So take the deal."
"That's it? Just "take the deal"?"
"Yes. If you don't want to die, take the deal. I mean, you'd almost be a Watcher. And look at how long they live. Although you may wind up getting knocked in the head on a regular basis."
"There. See? How does adopting Faith's baby fit into that?"
"That was sarcasm. The new slayer would bring her own watcher, who would be getting the knocks in the head."
"I know. But what it comes down do is: can I adopt a child?"
"Most humans raise children. You'll do fine. Besides, do you think the Watchers' Council would do better?" Silence fell for a moment, Buffy considering the demon's advice. So many of her major life decisions could be traced back to the words of a demon.
Then came an all-to-eager request. "May I look at the figures one more time?" The slayer nodded, eliciting a grin from across the table. Anya leafed through the pages excitedly, nodding to herself, breaking only to repeat her suggestion.
"Early retirement. Train slayers. Raise a child. Salary plus an unlimited expense account. Yes. Take the deal."
"You think?"
TBC