Pierce the Darkness
Chapter 2

Buffy watched him sleep, and wondered what the hell he was. With his jaw-dropping good looks and general glowiness, there was no way he was human. Didn't feel demonic to her, but then everything was all screwy at the moment, so who was she to judge? He seemed a gentleman-type guy, always helping her up and down and putting himself between her and danger, which was cute. It was so long since a man had been courtly to her that her first reaction had been suspicion until she'd realized he really was on her side (or else a fabulous actor). It was probable that her pleasure in being helped like a weakling was going to wear off, and soon, but for now he could hold all the doors and pull out all the chairs he liked.

So, time to evaluate the sitch. She'd died. Again. "Third time's a charm," she muttered, and heaved herself up to sit on the platform beside Legolas. Yet another apocalypse, and this time she hadn't made it out. Tilting her head to the side, Buffy examined how she felt about that and concluded that, since she was obviously in more trouble, she didn't feel all that bad about it. Missing the Scoobies and her sister, of course, but apart from that— Buffy died, and woke up nude and hugely pregnant and surrounded by aliens? Must be Tuesday.

Crap, she was tired. Sore, too, no thanks to the hitchhiker she'd somehow acquired between dying and waking up, and what was up with that? Probably had something to do with yet another elaborate plan for world domination—some half-cocked scheme to breed her Slayerly genes with some uber-strong race to create the ultimate weapon.

Buffy looked askance at Legolas; the Drazi hadn't used his baby-bullet to put her in the family way, had they? He was tall, sure, but kind of skinny—looked like a strong wind would blow him over. All that would come of that would be a skinny, glowy, half-Slayer kid with really good hair... and Buffy realized that she was likely brewing the next supermodel deluxe inside her. Maybe, she thought viciously, it would get her shortness. Hah.

The baby kicked, and Buffy glowered down at it. "Screw you," she muttered. "Would serve you right, to be short. Not like I invited you in there." She poked her tautly rounded belly with an experimental finger and winced at the slight pain. "I feel like Poland. I've been annexed against my will."

Thinking wistfully of Lech Walesa, she glanced over at Legolas. She hoped it wouldn't take long for him to shift around in his sleep so she could hurry up and jab the translator device into his damned neck. Should she feel a scruple or two about forcing it on him while he was unconscious? Buffy tried to scrape up a bit of remorse for the deviousness of it and found she couldn't. She'd already been violated, and in a fairly big way. He could suffer a little, too.

Her thoughts wandered, as thoughts are wont to do, and she contemplated their captors. The Drazi, they'd called themselves. They seemed weirdly deferential to her, not that she was complaining. When one had come in to remove the empty plates—and what in the hell was that spooge they'd been given to eat? Even Giles could cook better than that— she'd demanded to speak to their leader. His—her? its?—response had been only to nod and bow as he'd backed from the room.

It felt more than a little freaksome to tell an alien to take her to their leader, but Buffy did not have the luxury to avoid the freaksome at the moment. She had to be careful, and calm, and figure out what was going on. She'd learn what the Drazi were up to if she had to kill every one of them.

Oh, good, she thought as Legolas stirred, moving onto his side. Hopping down from the platform, distinctly less gazelle-like than she would have preferred, she palmed the device and strolled to where his dark head rested on the meagre padding. She took his long, straight, silky, cool, heavy hair—ok, so she had a fixation—in her hand and lifted it off his neck. Positioning the needle of the device, she took a breath and slapped it in, then released his hair and stepped back.

As she'd expected, he jerked away from her, sitting upright with one hand flying to his neck as his legs swung down, all in one movement. His gaze, when he turned it to her, was both betrayed and reproachful.

"Don't bother trying to get it out," Buffy said when he tugged on it, wincing. "They don't come out as easy as they go in."

"You knew I did not wish to wear this talisman," he said, voice low and angry. "Now it is sealed to me."

Talisman? Hoo boy. This guy was in for a rude technological awakening. "It's more important that we be able to communicate with each other," she informed him flatly. "We can't keep using sign language, and there's no time to deal with your learning curve."

Legolas stared at her a long moment. "This thing is not working," he said at last. "I did not understand most of what you just said."

Buffy pinched the bridge of her nose in, had she realized it, a classic Gilesian pose. Great, she thought. I get stuck with the slang-impaired medieval guy. Aloud, she told him, "We can't keep using hand gestures and there's not enough time for you to learn to speak whatever language the Drazi are using." He said nothing; this seemed to be his way of admitting she was right without actually saying the words. Typical. "We should discuss what we know of our situation," Buffy continued.

He nodded slowly. "I was sailing to Aman with my friend, Gimli. The Valar were displeased and capsized our boat; I thought surely we were about to die. I lost consciousness, and when I awoke it was here, with you. We both had tubes in our feet, which I removed. You woke shortly after that, and are aware of the rest."

Now it was Buffy's turn to nod. She'd ask him what Aman and the Valar were another time. For now, they had to concentrate. "I was fighting a group of demons," she reminisced, "and they got away from me, somehow..." Her voice and gaze drifted away as she pondered how that had happened. "There were too many of them, even for me."

"Demons?" Legolas demanded. "You battle demons?" He studied her, obviously incredulous, and Buffy crossed her arms as best she might over her expanded girth and waited.

"I'm stronger than I look," she told him sourly. "There's a lot more to me than meets the eye."

He acquired a speculative gleam in his eye, and to her surprise, smiled at her. "Well am I familiar with those who are more than they seem," he said. "To be truthful, I am glad to have any secret advantage I can against this new foe."

Buffy grinned back. "Don't get too happy about it, bub. It's a not-so-secret advantage, unfortunately—the Drazi are perfectly aware of what I can do. It's probably why I'm here in the first place." She tilted her head to one side consideringly. "What I can't figure is why you're here. Unless you're more than you look, too."

Legolas was taken aback. "I am what you see," he said. "Naught but a wood-elf, originally of Mirkwood and late of Ithilien."

She blinked. "An elf? Is that why you're all glowy and... and hey, what about the ears?"

Sighing, he swept back the shining curtain of his hair and turned a little away from her to reveal a delicately pointed ear. "Glowy?" he asked as she skimmed her fingertips over it. "It is merely the light of Ilúvatar, shining from me as one of the Eldar."

"Oh, is that all?" Buffy murmured, stepping back. "And here was me thinking you were radioactive." He was baffled again, but there was no time to explain—the door pivoted open and in strode some Drazi. One in particular, a little taller and with a definite air of command, stepped forward.

"I am Vizak," he said importantly. "I am representative from Drazi Freehold to League of Non-Aligned Worlds."

"Oh, I have so many questions for you..." Buffy said, smiling even as she cracked her knuckles. "First question: why are we here?"

Vizak squared his shoulders, as if preparing for attack. "I am not authorized to tell you this."

"Ok," she said pleasantly, beginning to walk in a slow circle around the room. "Then... how did we get here?"

"I am not authorized to tell you this."

"Hm." She tried to hop onto the platform and nearly ended up on her butt on the floor. Legolas, as closest to her, managed to grab her before she got hurt but every Drazi in the room tensed, and half sprang in her direction before they saw she was safe. A tiny smile appeared on her lips, and Legolas knew then that she had not slipped by accident.

"I wonder," Buffy continued calmly, "if you would be any more authorized to tell me if I threatened to hurt myself?" Lazily, she reached out a hand to Legolas. He knew right away what she wanted, and placed in her grasp one of the shivs he'd made from the spoons. She brought the sharp point to the side of her neck, and watched as the Drazi once again tensed, their hands twitching uncertainly in the direction of their weapons or her.

"For some reason, I am important to you," she said, her voice cold, and brought the shiv down to rest against her belly. The Drazi's anxiety ratcheted up a notch, and Vizak was fairly quivering with unease. "And this baby is even more important. So I suggest that if you want either of us, you start talking. Waking up this pregnant doesn't put me in the best of moods. Ooh, my hands are shaky! Just might slip!"

Vizak took a step forward, hands outstretched in pleading. "Please... please. I tell what you want. Please."

Buffy relaxed only marginally; she leant back and crossed her arms, the shiv's point still dangerously close to her belly. "Start talking."

"War is coming. Great war, many deaths." He heaved a huge sigh. "Many deaths. Drazi need great warrior to protect Freehold. Droshalla, whose light fills the world, said warrior to come from far away, long ago."

"Another divine prophecy," Buffy muttered. "And I'm always in the middle of them. I'm so lucky."

"Droshalla sent warrior to Drazi across time and space," Vizak continued. "Warrior about to die, about to be lost forever. Great waste, great waste. Droshalla hates waste, sends warrior to Drazi. Drazi very glad, much fear have Drazi of upcoming battles. Very great evil." He seemed almost to shiver.

"That explains me," Buffy replied testily, "but what about Legolas?" She gestured to him. "Why is he here, too? And why am I pregnant?"

"Drazi received warrior, but warrior not enough." He grimaced at Buffy's expression of affront. "Droshalla said greatest one comes from greatest two, and sent us other warrior." He nodded in Legolas' direction. "Other warrior is finest of his people, also about to die, also to be lost forever. Droshalla hates waste."

"So you've mentioned," Buffy said sourly. "I'm starting to get a picture here. You tell me if I'm wrong." Vizak nodded. "Droshalla, whoever that is, grabbed us just at the moments of our deaths to bring us here—wherever here is—and dumped us on you Drazi. You made baby soup out of Legolas and I, made me pregnant, and now what?"

Vizak opened his mouth to speak but Legolas interrupted. "I, too, have an idea of what he means but—"To the surprise of the others, he began to laugh. "The child you carry cannot be mine, Buffy. I am sure I would remember its conception. That is not the sort of thing an elf forgets, especially as it is both sexual act and marriage vow." His blue eyes sparkled merrily even in the dingy light streaming down over them.

Buffy turned to him slowly, and her face was both patient and sympathetic. "Um, Legolas. Back in your world, sex is the only way to have children. But in other worlds, more advanced worlds, you can do it without sex."

His levity vanished, and his fists started to clench and unclench. "How?"

Vizak decided to answer. "Semen extracted from male, egg from female, joined in dish until egg fertilized, embryo replaced in female. Embryo grows, becomes baby."

Legolas began to appear distinctly queasy. Combined with the pure anger emanating from him, it wasn't his best look ever, Buffy decided. He was glowing brighter, too "You took... that... from me while I was unconscious? You created a child without our knowledge or consent?" Legolas started stomping around the room and waving his arms. "The creation of a daughter or son is a sacred act! A communion of both body and soul between two deeply in love! You have desecrated this holy deed, corrupted it! You have interfered with the natural work of the Valar! You have violated us beyond the mere rape of our bodies!"

Moving so quickly he was a mere blur of light, Legolas launched himself at Vizak and, with an effortless-seeming twist of hands, snapped his neck. The other Drazi had no time to react or scarcely even notice, because he was upon them immediately after. One by one they fell until one a single Drazi was left, and Buffy had to use all her strength to drag Legolas back from his cringing form.

"If you kill him, we won't get any more answers!" she hissed at him, and shoved him away before turning on the surviving Drazi a countenance no less grim or fearsome than the elf's. "There's more to this story," she stated. "I want to know what, or I'll kill you myself."

The Drazi was shaking so hard he could barely speak. "What do you want to know?"

"How long we've been here. How long I've been pregnant. When I'm due to deliver. Where we are. Why you didn't get rid of Legolas once his job was done." Behind her, Legolas was still pacing and muttering foul imprecations under his breath.

"You are here eleven Earther months, him ten. You are pregnant since nine months, baby will come soon now." When he stopped, she grabbed his collar and shook him around a little. "You are on Babylon 5. Other warrior remains because we needed his life for the machine."

Both Buffy and Legolas went very still. "What... machine?" Buffy asked through gritted teeth, and slammed his head against the wall.

"The Lifegiver," the Drazi wailed, clutching his abused head. "Your body not well with baby, was having problems... very ill, very ill. Drazi know nothing of human women, know nothing of pregnancy, know nothing of making warrior well. Baby needed healthy. Lifegiver here on Babylon 5, so warriors brought to Babylon 5. Lifegiver stolen, used to make warrior healthy by taking life from other warrior."

Buffy said nothing a long moment, only concentrated on breathing in and out through her nose to keep from killing the Drazi. This just got worse and worse. "There's more," she said flatly. "Isn't there?"

"If this war is imminent," Legolas put in, peering over her shoulder at the pitiful Drazi she had pinned against the wall, "then how will a newborn child aid your people?"

The Drazi brightened a bit. "Drazi thought Lifegiver would age baby faster,' he replied. "Lifegiver make baby adult in less than one Earther year. When war has come, when Drazi need help, baby is grown and ready to fight."

"You thought the Lifegiver would age the baby faster?" Buffy demanded. "But you weren't sure?" At his slow shake of the head to the negative, she dropped him to the ground and turned to face Legolas. "I don't believe this," she mumbled. "These guys are... I don't know what they are."

Legolas brushed her aside to tower over the Drazi, now slumped on the floor. "Where is this Lifegiver?" The Drazi began to stammer its location; Legolas hauled him up and frog-marched him out of the room. Buffy waddled after them as fast as she could, taking in her surroundings with an avid eye.

The corridor was more metal walls, floor, and ceiling, but devoid of the wires and piping that characterized the room in which they'd been captive. The place was large, barren, and empty. "Who else knows we're here?" Buffy asked the Drazi.

"Now that all others are dead, only Freehold government and I know," he said. "But you have killed Vizak; he was ambassador to League of Non-Aligned Worlds. He will be missed."

"We will worry about that at a later time," Legolas said, and pushed the Drazi through the doorway he indicated. The room within was bare but for two chairs around a table, upon which squatted a device made of black metal.

"How does it work?" Buffy asked, stretching on tiptoes to see over Legolas' shoulder.

The Drazi touched one side. "Warrior connected here." Then he touched the other side. "Other warrior connected here. Push button, life taken from one, given to other. But," he continued, a quaver in his voice, "no need for you to know how to use it, I am here to help you."

"And the minute our backs are turned, you'll shoot us with those ray guns and we'll be back to being naked and unconscious on a table," Buffy said. "And you didn't even buy us dinner and a movie first. This is the worst date I've ever been on."

"Enough foolishness," Legolas declared, and snapped his neck. He dropped the Drazi's body to the floor, then turned to study Buffy.

"You're pretty big with the killing, aren't you?" she asked, wondering if he were some sort of death-happy wacko. Not exactly the best choice of gene-provider for her offspring, she'd have to say.

"You saw him," he replied, his voice hard. "All of them, but a step away from being orcs. Their stilted speech bore out my assumption."

"That could just have been the translation device!" Buffy exclaimed. "Some sort of malfunction!"

He put his nose in the air and turned toward the machine on the table. "The talisman would translate what they were saying, if they were capable of saying it," was all he said.

Buffy felt like banging her head on the wall in frustration. "I have to think about what to do," she muttered, rubbing her temples in little circles. "Now they're all dead, the only people who know we're here are the bigwigs of the Freehold. I assume that's their main planet, or whatever. They'll probably send someone to investigate, and this guy says Vizak will be missed. But we've got a little time. I say we explore, see what resources we've got."

Legolas nodded. The corridor outside the Lifegiver room stretched in either direction, and each took one and began to search. Buffy followed it as it wended left, then right. She came back to the room in which she and Legolas had been held captive; already the dead inside had begun to smell. Backing away, she wondered at that—it hadn't been long since Legolas had gone hog-wild and offed them all. Must be a species-specific thing, speedy decomposition. There was a panel of buttons on the wall outside the door, and she poked at them until the door slid shut.

Another room, and another, and another; dozens in all, each perfectly empty. Not a stick of furniture, not a sign of life. Still Buffy went until Legolas came out of a room in the corridor ahead of her, and she realized she'd gone in a big circle. Her bladder was telling her it was time to find a bathroom, she was hungry, and her back was killing her. Upon relating these things to Legolas, it occurred to her that she now had one hell of an close connection with him.

It made her angry. She'd never really expected to live long enough to become a mother, but if it had ever happened, she'd thought she'd at least get to experience the fun part of getting pregnant before the crappy part of being pregnant. "I feel rotten," she whispered, tears coming to her eyes.

Legolas came to her immediately, scooping her effortlessly into his arms. "I have found a rudimentary living space," he informed her as he carried her along. "There is no food, but there is a bed of sorts, and a privy." It took her a while to realize he meant "toilet" and her relief was such that she laughed, causing him to glance down at her. "I will search further and find food for you. There must be others in this place."

"Don't you mean 'for us'?" Buffy asked, trying to straighten up in his arms to look him in the face. "You need to eat, too."

His jaw tightened. "It is more important for you to eat than I," he replied. "I can go many days without anything. Any food I procure must go to keeping you nourished." She opened her mouth to argue but he looked down at her again, and something in the way his lips were pressed together suggested she would not win this argument.

The living quarters Legolas had found consisted of a cot bearing only a thin mattress, a straight-backed metal chair, and a steel sink with matching toilet jutting from the wall. The shiny silver seat looked guaranteed to freeze a girl's buns off but beggars couldn't be choosers at this stage of the game, Buffy decided. Legolas gave her some privacy, and she almost had a heart attack when she realized there was no toilet paper but then a stream of water came up and sluiced her clean before warm air gusted up from some unknown source to dry her off.

"Not bad at all," she murmured, and turned to the sink to wash her hands and face. Drying them on the hem of her skirt, she sat on the cot and waited for Legolas to return. When he did, it was with several tins of what appeared, by the photos on the labels, to contain more of the green and brown goo they'd been fed before.

"Oh, goodie," Buffy grumbled, but stretched out her hands for them anyway. Opening them was easy; just press a thumb to the circle at the top and the lid popped off. Without utensils, she was forced to scoop out the contents with her fingers. She even ate the brown stuff this time. Legolas demurred when she offered him what she couldn't eat. "You might as well," she told him. "My fingers aren't long enough to reach the bottom of the can anyway."

He took the cans and scooped out the rest, then to her shock offered her his fingers to lick. Buffy blinked at him, feeling a weird thick heat spread in her at the idea of such an intimate touch between them; in spite of circumstances, they were still total strangers to each other. It didn't help that he was, quite possibly, the best-looking man she'd ever laid eyes on and in another time and place she would have beat down his door to lick him clean.

But right here, right now, Buffy shook her head. "You need to eat too," she insisted, pushing his hand back toward his own mouth and watching as his pink tongue came out to remove the unsightly stuff. The heat within her shifted lower, and Buffy wondered how normal it was for a hugely pregnant woman to be capable of getting turned on. "I'm... just going to try to sleep now," she said, her voice sounding tight, and lay down on the cot.

She felt perfectly safe with him sitting next to her in the chair, and once he stopped eating and was still for a while, the lights shut off. But still she couldn't sleep. "I'm cold," she whispered, and after a pause, Legolas stood. The lights flashed on and Buffy watched as he gently turned her to her side and lay behind her, curling his long body around hers so his body heat could keep her warm. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," he replied softly, his breath blowing a tendril of hair into her ear and making it tickle. She brushed it aside, sighed, and was finally able to relax enough to sleep.