Title: The Sacrifices
Author: mispel
E-mail: PG-13
Summary: Harmony reveals her plans for the baby. Anya searches for an informant.
Spoilers: Early season 7
Disclaimer: I own no one and nothing
Feedback: Any comments would be welcome
A/N: Takes place in early season 7, not long after Beneath You and Same Time, Same Place.
Previously: An old friend left something at the cemetery. Anya and Xander questioned Harmony. Spike was lectured about his soul.
The cemetery seemed to shift as clouds slipped over the moon. Shadows grew, loomed, then retreated. Anya and Xander were still near the place where they had found the baby. Looking both bored and confused, Harmony fidgeted. Xander still had his serious face on. He held up a stake part way, but Anya was sure that Harmony was cooperating only because she was there. And Anya only hung around because she had nothing better to do.
Anya thought about what it would feel like to hold the baby. Not that she wanted to get slobbered on. She was just mildly curious. It wasn't like she still wanted one. She was beyond all that.
As she looked at Xander holding the kid, Anya wondered if he was beyond that too. Or if that had been part of the lie, and he had never wanted the kids, or the boat, or any of it. And if he ever would. With someone else of course.
The baby turned his head and looked right at Anya. His lashes were still moist from his recent crying and inhuman screaming. His eyes had that open, transparent look that babies have. Unguarded. Like you could look right inside his empty, little head. The baby broke his blank stare and turned to drool on a fresh spot on Xander's shirt.
Xander prodded Harmony about where she got the baby, trying to look stern but feeling less threatening as the baby gummed the pocket of his shirt.
"A daycare place in LA. I've been lugging that thing around forever. It's been a real challenge," Harmony said, her expression solemn.
"I've heard that about raising children. And it explains your appearance," Anya said conversationally.
"I mean, it's been a challenge not eating it. They wanted it whole, I told you already," Harmony reminded them.
"Who did?" Xander asked darkly. Or that's how it sounded to him. To anyone else it might have sounded dorky, but he was dead serious.
"These demon guys. They need a baby born on some holy day of theirs, to sacrifice, you know," Harmony explained off hand and tossed her messy hair off her shoulder.
Xander held the baby more closely to him. He even considered covering his little ears.
"What is the going rate for a human baby these days, anyway. I've been kind of out of the loop," Anya said looking at Xander accusingly.
Xander didn't really get it. Anya was blaming him for something again. But the blame was now a constant vibe from her, and it was hard to tell apart all the many, various wrongs he had done her by not going through with the wedding. Right now he wasn't going to worry about it.
"It's this jewel-encrusted thing. Kind of ugly, but worth a whole bunch," Harmony answered sounding excited.
Xander glared at her. He was relieved that he had the baby now, and it was safe from harm. But he knew that wasn't the end of it.
"What if they get another baby?" Xander said worriedly. He had spoken to Anya, and for a second he wondered if she would care.
"I know who she means. The ugly jeweled thing cinched it. I'll take care of it."
Then both she and Xander eyed Harmony, trying to asses how much of a threat she might be. In response to their stares, Harmony tried to look innocent but only managed vacant.
"Give me your belt," Anya ordered Xander.
"Just like old times," Xander mumbled as Anya got the belt off him while he held the kid.
Harmony started to back up. Anya stalked her slowly with the belt in hand. Then just as Harmony broke into a run, Anya jumped on her and pinned her to the ground.
"No, wait, I'll be good. Not the belt," Harmony pleaded as Anya dragged her over to a tree. Using the belt, she wrapped Harmony's wrists and tied her arms backward around the tree trunk.
"Why don't we just stake her? Old times sake?" Xander asked as he admired the way Anya could tie his belt into knots.
"Just in case she forgot to tell us something," Anya said. Then she stood up and appraised her work. She nodded, satisfied and was gone.
The screams were building up into a thick mass inside his head. Still, Spike wouldn't let them out. He could be a stubborn jailer. Hold them in till they died. No one was going to hear their pitiful noise and come running. No running in the halls. No begging, no whimpering, no talking, pay attention.
Spike wanted to get away, but he couldn't leave whenever he wanted to. It was school after all. There were lectures to hear. If he didn't listen, he got the switch. If he learned, he would get to leave. That's what they told him. But the bell wouldn't ring.
There was nowhere to go anyway. He couldn't leave it behind. Even when his mind shook loose to slip away from it, Spike was left alone with the thing. There was no safe place. It went everywhere with him. And it was heavy. He got tired carrying it about. And there was nowhere to put it down. It didn't fit anywhere but on his back.
The old man said he just had to build up his strength. Then he said, "And you know how you build up your strength? You eat."
As she left, Anya's form was swallowed up by the night. Xander looked after her, but in her dark dress, she blended in so quickly. Xander felt the night start to close around him, but then the moon came out from behind the clouds. Without Anya there, Xander grew extra aware that he was in the middle of the cemetery and solely responsible for protecting an infant. It was a whole new kind of terrifying experience. Xander took a breath and silently reassured himself that he could take care of the baby. Or take him to Buffy's house and pawn him off on her. Giving a warning look to Harmony as she struggled to get herself free, he tightened his grip on the stake and the baby.
"Can't I even say goodbye?" Harmony asked with a shaky smile.
Xander just pulled up his stake making sure to keep the sharp end far away from the baby.
"But I've been like a mother to it," Harmony whined.
Xander made a stabbing motion with the stake and Harmony harrumphed, "I hope your pants fall down."
"You wish," Xander said back to her. But then he saw her "as if" look.
"Or probably not," he realized.
Xander tried to put the baby in the carrier, but he started crying as soon as he put him down. He gave up and picked him up again. Seeing a colorful, diaper bag on the ground, he grabbed it and put it over his shoulder. A few feet away Xander saw the grocery bag with jars of baby food. He looked at Harmony.
"Fine, you get arrested for shoplifting strained goop," she said sounding hurt.
Xander shrugged and picked up the bag of food. The baby chewed on his own little hand.
"Hungry? Aww, I'll give you some yummy, strained goop. But first we need to get out of the icky cemetery." After hearing himself, Xander made a mental note - cut back on baby talk, not manly.
Xander left the cemetery, stake in hand, being even more watchful than before. He wondered how dangerous he looked holding a stake, a shopping bag, a diaper bag, and a baby.
"If we run into any trouble, don't be a hero, save yourself," he told the baby, who placed a wet hand on Xander's face.
"Drool hand, thanks."
He considered going to find Buffy but he wasn't sure she was still around. He decided it would be safer to take the baby straight to her house.
Seeing Xander should have made her feel stronger, more vengeful. Instead, Anya felt off. Her insides were all squishy and mixed up. Like when she was newly human, and she felt vaguely nauseous all the time. Maybe it was being a newly minted vengeance demon that had her new demon insides discombobulated. She just needed to keep busy. Maybe get back on D'Hoffryn's good side again. And completing this little mission successfully might just do it.
Anya stormed into the decrepit, demon layer and glared around the room. A few of the demons jumped when she barged in but then went back to sitting around, waiting to have their fortunes read. The place was a disused storeroom of a long closed, discount, shoe store. Old shoeboxes were stacked collapsing in the corners. The waiting demons sat on wooden crates and folding chairs. The main attraction was a hooded demon behind the desk opposite the entrance. A single lamp with a red lampshade gave his face some cheesy, Halloween shadows.
"An honor to read the fortune of the great vengeance giver," he said with unctuous sarcasm.
Anya just looked around the room silently. The informant was a frightened, little demon, who liked to have his fortune read every few days just to make sure he wasn't at death's door. But he wasn't there.
As Anya was about to leave, she noticed that the demon behind the desk was smirking at her. She charged over and flipped the desk on top of him. The demon made strangling noised as he was trapped under it, the edge against his neck. Anya pressed down until the noises stopped. She didn't have time for anything more elaborate. Maybe another time.
Anya left resolved to get her reputation reestablished before even the lowest demons got smirky and sarcastic with her.
The only movement was the settling of rock dust back onto the cavern floor. But some were growing restless in their worshipful repose. Their slick, gray skin hummed with unfulfilled anticipation. A silent assurance passed to them that there was still time. They went back to listening. Nearby, the hatchlings started to twitch for the first time.
To be continued