Stars in the Bright Sky by Lilachigh

The story so far: Christmas Eve - and Buffy is still determined to keep her affair with Spike a secret. But when he shuts her out of his crypt, she is furious. Then she discovers he is keeping someone prisoner and sets out to break in through the sewers that run under Sunnydale, terrified that he is able to feed again. When she reaches the bottom chamber of his crypt, she discovers a heavily pregnant girl lying on his bed.

Chp 2: All day long

Without thinking, Buffy reached out and grasped the young girl's hand as she groaned under her contraction. Then she gently pulled down the remnants of her skirt over her thighs and turned to where Spike sat on the other side of the bed. For a second or two, she couldn't even find the words, then, "Spike, who is she? What the hell is going on? She's having a baby!"

The vampire raised a rather weary eyebrow at her. "Hey, guessed that all by myself, Jessica Fletcher! It was difficult, but the big stomach, pain, groans, blood - thet gave the game away."

Buffy glared at him, then turned to the girl. "Hey," she said gently, pushing her dark hair back from her sweaty forehead. "Who are you?'"

The girl squeezed her hand. "Lucy," she muttered, then shut her eyes as if speaking the one word had been too much to bear.

"Spike, how long as she been like this? We must get her to the hospital."

"No! No hospital!" The pressure on Buffy's hand increased seven fold.

Spike sighed and got up to wring out a wet cloth in a bowl of cool water and lay it on Lucy's forehead. "That's all she's said from the second I found her inside the top crypt when I got home earlier. She's not only in labour, she's got some sort of gun shot wound to her arm. I've bound that up, but that's where most of the blood's come from."

He turned to look at Buffy, his blue eyes very bright in the dim candlelight . "I haven't been sampling, if that's what you were thinking, pet!"

Buffy went very red. She could never tell him what she'd been thinking. She was only too aware of the stake she'd pushed back into her jeans' pocket. She had been going to kill him, the man she loved, thinking she was saving an innocent from a monster.

"She was already well along with the labour. I don't think we've got time to get her to the hospital."

"Well, a doctor, then. I'll run."

"No!" The grip came again, strangely powerful for someone who looked so weak. "The cops will find me and take me back to prison."

"The police!" It was as if a light had been turned on. "You're the dangerous criminal the police are searching for! "

"Yes...oh, god, here it comes again." Her body writhed as the pain took her again. Buffy stared desperately at Spike.

"She so doesn't look like a criminal. She's only a couple of years older than Dawn, for heaven's sake!"

"I don't look like an evil thing, luv, but that's what you often call me."

Lucy came back to them. "Listen, I don't know who you are, but please, please, let me have my baby out of prison. I don't want it born in jail. That's why I jumped off the bus taking me to the prison hospital. I want it to be born free. They're going to take it away from me and I'll never see it again."

"What did you do?" Buffy asked, making her more comfortable on the untidy bed and trying hard not to remember the last time she'd been lying there herself, locked in Spike's arms for hours and hours.

"I shot a guy," Lucy said briefly, then her face contorted again with the onset of another contraction.

"Spike, those pains are very close together. Do you think - ?"

"I think we're going to have a baby, Buffy, and soon."

"But I don't know anything about having babies!"

He grinned. "Well, I must admit in over a hundred years, I have learnt one or two things about women, but them being vampires, not too much about babies!"

Buffy's head whirled with odd, disjointed thoughts. Hot water, scissors, towels, long ago memories of a class she and Willow had taken together where the teacher had been embarrassed and the kids had got the giggles when the birth process was taught. All they'd really cared about was how you got pregnant in the first place, nor not, to be more accurate. Oh and there were all the TV programmes where people screamed in pain and then only a couple of minutes later were sitting up in bed, hair neat and tidy, with a pretty little baby lying in their arms, clean and sweet.

The next hour went past in a dark whirl. Later Buffy knew she could never have done it without Spike. They worked as a team, the other always seeming to know effortlessly what their partner wanted.

In a little pause, Lucy seemed to doze off. Buffy had the feeling they were on the final lap. She tried to ease her aching shoulders and was grateful to feel Spike's fingers digging deep into the tense muscles across the back of her neck. "Oh god, that feels great. Do it again. Please."

"I always like to hear you say that, Slayer."

Buffy smiled weakly. "Shut up, Spike. I'm too tired to - Just go on doing what you're doing and I might survive the next hour."

"I hope Lucy does."

Buffy spun round, catching her breath as she realised how close he was standing behind her. "You think she's in danger?"

Spike shrugged. "She's young, scared and having her baby in a vampire's crypt with two inefficient midwives trying to help. She lost a lot of blood when they shot her."

"So what's the good news?"

Spike rubbed his thumb down her cheek in a gentle caress. "We're the midwives, pet. Inefficient we might be, but no one dies when we're in charge - unless we want them to!"

Half an hour later, there was a new sound in Spike's crypt, one he'd never thought he'd ever hear. The mewling wail of a new born baby.

"It's a girl!" Buffy sobbed, trying to dash away the tears that were tracing down her face as she wrapped the tiny infant in one of Spike's bright red towels. The last few minutes were a complete blur - she vaguely recalled Spike in game face, yelling at Lucy who seemed to have given up, screaming, "Only you can have this baby! Come on, girl, push, push, push!"

And here it was. Tiny, blood smeared, a shock of dark hair, and a red face screwed up and cross. Buffy laid the baby across Lucy's chest and the girl gazed down at her and Buffy thought she'd never, ever forget the expression on her face. She bit her lip hard. She had no illusions about the life of a Slayer. It was very doubtful if she'd ever experience having children of her own. When she saw how Lucy looked at her daughter, she realised, with a terrible clarity, how big a sacrifice she was making.

Lucy dozed off to sleep and Buffy picked up the baby and crawled up the steps to the upper crypt. Spike had been dealing with the nastier side of childbirth and Buffy ignored the fact that he was absentmindedly sucking blood from a finger. "Look what we did?" she said proudly.

"How's Lucy?" he asked softly.

"Sleeping. Here - want to have a look?"

Spike stood about a yard away, put his hands firmly behind his back and peered. "Oh yes. Baby. Looks a bit small. And should she be that ugly? Looks like old pictures of Winston Churchill."

"She's absolutely perfect!" Buffy hissed crossly. "Don't listen to the nasty man, darling. You're gorgeous, aren't you?"

Spike gazed at the woman he loved, her tousled blonde hair bent over the baby she was cradling at her breast. He reached forward and laid a gentle hand on the child and they stood together for a long moment, knowing this was as close as he would ever come to complete happiness. He gazed round the crypt, at the darkness, the candles, the cobwebs and stone and smiled grimly to himself. A man, a woman and a baby in a dark hole in the ground. Well, it made sense - it was Christmas.

Buffy looked up and caught the expression on his face. She felt her heart lurch, knowing instinctively what he was thinking. Why did that happen? How could they be so linked that she sometimes knew what he was going to say before he said it. Vampire, she repeated the mantra again, but knew it was no use. The word meant nothing to her where Spike was concerned.

They carried the baby downstairs and Buffy wedged the bundle into the crook of Lucy's undamaged arm. She was awake now, but looked awful. "Lucy, I know what it means to you," Buffy began, "but you simply have to go to the hospital now. I don't know if we did it right. The birthing thing. What with the scissors and the pushing and...well, you have to let a doctor look at you."

Lucy kissed the baby's head. "I know I've got to go back to prison. I deserve to. I killed that guy. He was no good, but that's no excuse, I know that. But, Buffy, I don't want baby to come with me. I've got a sister, lives forty miles the other side of town. I'll give you her details. Please, Buffy, get the baby to her. She'll raise her, keep her safe. No one will ever find her there."

Buffy stared at her. This was madness. She couldn't take a newborn baby away from her mother and it was Christmas Eve and she should be home and Dawn would be so worried and... And this could be Dawn in a couple of years time, a voice inside her head whispered. If life turned against her in some way. Would you let her down? "But what will you tell the authorities? They'll want to know where the baby is?"

Lucy smiled weakly. She gazed up at Spike. "I'll tell them she was taken by a monster. They'll believe that."

"Hey, standing right here," Spike said edgily, then grinned. "OK by me, luv. Got a bad reputation, anyhow. Not sure if I want to be known for killing babies, but hey, if it keeps Pipsqueak here safe, my shoulders are broad enough to take it."

Suddenly, from above their heads came a thunderous crashing on the outer crypt door. Buffy could hear shouting, dogs barking. It was the police! They'd come back with bloodhounds and tracked Lucy down.

"You must go!" she gasped. "Look, my sister's called Rebecca Mason and lives on a farm, Whiteacre. She knows all about the baby. Just take her. Please. Go, go now."

Spike was already moving towards the back entrance to the crypt. "I'll push a boulder over the passage once we're clear," he said briefly. "Hopefully, once they've found you, they won't look for anyone else."

Lucy gave the baby a despairing kiss and thrust her at Buffy. "Take her! Now! Before I change my mind!"

"Spike, are we doing the right thing?" Buffy asked as the car the vampire had 'borrowed' sped down the highway, out of Sunnydale. She pulled the towel back from the baby's face. It was no longer red and wrinkled, but smooth and pink. Long dark lashes fanned against her cheeks and one tiny fist was pushed up against her chin, as if she were thinking deep thoughts.

"Still asleep?"

"Yes, thank goodness, but we must get help soon. She'll need to be fed. Perhaps we should just take her straight to the hospital."

Spike frowned and his boot went down heavily on the gas pedal. "No, Slayer, we promised Lucy we would take the brat to her sister. It's up to this Rebecca what she does. But we keep our word. I always keep promises to a lady."

"Sun's coming up," Buffy said, looking to where the bright stars were fading fast as the sky grew pale primrose at the edges. "We have to find shelter for you soon, or else..."

"You don't have to remind me, pet," he drawled. "It's going to be a race. This old jalopy against the sun."

"Couldn't you have stolen something that goes a bit faster?" Buffy snapped.

Spike stole a sideways look at her and if he'd had a heart beat it would have stopped right then and there. She sat, nursing the baby in that automatic way women had the world over. Her hair was a tangled mass of gold and amber, there was a streak of blood down one cheek and her jeans and boots were past saving. But he'd never loved her more than at that moment.

"Haven't stolen it. It belongs to my mate Clem. He's away for Christmas, visiting relatives in St Louis. He didn't want to drive that far in this old crate, so he hitched a ride with a friend. That's how I got the car, okay! Sorry it isn't a Ferrari. Next time we have a run in with a pregnant killer and find ourselves kidnapping an infant and avoiding the sodding police, I'll be sure to do better!"

Buffy shook her head. She'd almost forgotten it was nearly Christmas. "I must phone Dawn and tell her I'm OK. She'll be frantic."

Spike frowned. "Good point, Slayer. Can't have Niblet worried, just because we've got Pipsqueak there to look after."

"She hasn't even got a name," Buffy said sadly. "Lucy didn't tell us what she wanted to call her."

"Pipsqueak will have to do for now, then," Spike said and glanced anxiously up at the eastern sky ahead of him. "Sun's nearly up. Now, where the hell is this farm? We should be nearly there."

Buffy laid the baby on her lap, shrugged off her denim jacket and draped it over Spike's head. He touched her hand for a second and flashed her a quick thank you from eyes that were gleaming sapphire in the bright morning air.

The sun was coming up fast as they swerved through open gates next to a sign that read 'Whiteacres'. The car bounced and jolted up a rutted track and Buffy could hear Spike hissing with pain as he tried to move his hands from the steering wheel as the sun's rays shot through the windows. He was burning up! Then in front of them lay a scattering of barns and a farmhouse. But Buffy knew they didn't have time to make it there. She reached over and jerked hard on the wheel.

"What the hell! "

The car swung sideways, ran through open barn doors and buried its hood in a stack of straw bales with a violent jerk as the engine cut out. Spike lay back in his seat and groaned in relief as the dark shade covered them. "Thanks, Slayer, that was close."

"Didn't do it for you, don't flatter yourself!" Buffy snapped, refusing to let him see how scared she'd been at losing him. "I've got to get home before tonight and I need this car! And someone to drive it. You know cars and Buffy are not the best of friends."

Spike got out of the car and she handed him the baby as she clambered up out of the low, cramped seat. She stood for a moment looking at him. There were burnt patches on his pale hands, but they were holding the little girl with a tenderness she'd never seen before. Then he glanced up, saw her looking at him, and thrust the bundle at her as if it was soaked in Holy Water. "Bloody hell, Slayer. Here, take Pipsqueak. She's wet through and smells worse than most demons I've known. Get her up to the house to the sister and then we can get the hell out of here."

"It's not her, it's the horses, you idiot!" she snapped, gazing round and realising they weren't in a barn but a large stable and several interested, four legged inhabitants were watching them. "Hold her for a second. It won't kill you - well, it wouldn't, because you're dead already, but hey, I just want to get tidied up. I'll scare this Rebecca into the middle of next week, turning up looking like this."

Buffy dragged her hair back and tied it as tightly as she could with a loose piece of twine she found on the stable floor. She splashed water from the horse trough over her face, grimacing at the scummy feel of it, but at least it was washing away some of the dirt and blood she'd caught sight of in the car's mirror. She gazed in despair at her white top. It was splattered with blood and needed to be thrown away. She whipped it off, found her denim jacket still in the car and buttoned it up across her breasts. She wondered if Spike had been peeking, but when she looked round she found he'd retreated deeper inside the stable as the sun rose higher and came flooding in through the doors.

Stepping softly, she moved between the rows of horses, not wanting to spook them. They shifted gently on the straw and one or two snuffled gently as she passed. At the very end of the stable she paused, unable at first to believe what she was hearing, then knowing that she would never, whatever might happen between her and Spike in the future, forget this moment.

There was a voice, Spike's voice, singing, very, very quietly, almost under his breath:

"Little baby do not stir, we will lend a coat of fur

We will rock you, rock you, rock you,

We will rock you, rock you, rock – "

He stopped abruptly as Buffy sank to her knees next to him and glared at her, daring her to say a word. "Pipsqueak's beginning to wake up. Didn't want her making some godawful row and disturbing the horses,'"he said, thrusting the baby at Buffy. She took her, then crawled forward until she was sitting with her back against Spike's chest. His arm dropped protectively across them both, and Buffy knew that at last, after all these weeks of being back in the real world, feeling numb, she was experiencing a moment of complete happiness.

"A baby in a stable at Christmas," Spike murmured above her head. "Well, Goldilocks, unless you want to ring the Scoobies to drive out here to be the Wise Men and Women, I reckon you ought to get her up to the house."

Buffy bent to kiss the baby. She knew she had to part with her, and soon. The baby needed warmth and a bath and milk. But it hurt so much. She'd never been this close to a newborn before. She knew she'd never have one of her own; a Slayer's life expectancy meant children were really not an option. "What if this Rebecca is mean to her?"

"We'll keep an eye on them," Spike said. "Won't let anything hurt Pipsqueak, I promise."

"Do you want to say goodbye?" She held out the baby and for a moment thought he was going to draw back. Then he reached out with one finger and pulled down the darl red towel that was still her only covering.

"Bye, Pipsqueak. Be good and if you meet any odd looking men on dark nights in the future - run like hell!"

He watched as Buffy walked out of the stable, sitting in the straw, his face dark with thoughts he knew he shouldn't have. It wasn't bloody fair that this woman should never be a mother. Surely some Slayers had had children. He'd have to get Red to do some research. But even if she did, they wouldn't be his and the thought of another man making love to her, taking her, seeing her naked, making her scream in passion, forced his game face out and he heard the horses neigh in alarm as they smelt vampire close by.

When she came back to the stable, her arms were empty but there were tear tracks down her face. He wordlessly held out his arms and for once she went straight into them with no holding back. He held her in silence, stroking her hair, then, "All OK?"

"Yes." Buffy sniffed. "Stupid hay. Making me cry. Rebecca seems really nice and her husband is a sweetie. They were waiting for the baby. Lucy was taken to the prison hospital, but she managed to get one phone call and rang her sister to tell her. I just hope she did it without alerting the authorities."

"Is Lucy OK?"

"Yes, as fine as possible, I suppose. She's sticking to her story that a monster stole her baby."

Under her cheek, she heard a rumbling noise and realised Spike was laughing. "Bloody hell, Slayer, I'm going to be the biggest big bad Sunnydale has ever known at this rate."

"Guess what they're calling the baby?"

"As long as it's not Angel, I don't mind!"

"Marianne. And I borrowed Rebecca's phone to ring Dawn. She's okay. Freaked out that I didn't come home last night, but I told her I was with you and that seemed to calm her down. I said we'd be back as soon as it got dark. She insists you to come to us for Christmas dinner. She's getting you bull's blood. It's supposed to give you strength. Do you need your strength, Spikey?" she teased.

Suddenly Spike pulled her upwards across his lap until their faces were nearly touching, blue eyes blazing, his hands already busy on her sensitive skin under her jacket, "You mean we've got all day here, Slayer? On our own?"

She ran her fingers down the length of his fly and began to tease the zip up and down. "Merry Christmas, Spike," she said. "We've got hours and hours, if you want," she murmured, feeling the strength growing under her hand, glorying in what she could do to him. God, how she wanted him. She didn't care if it was bad, if good girls shouldn't want a man in this way. Somehow holding the baby had made her feel so - so sexy. She wanted him inside her, she wanted him to make her come, over and over again. She giggled. "But if you're feeling tired, then you can just go to sleep. I'll cover you with straw."

"You talk too much, luv. I'll find you something better to do with that mouth of yours. Oh yes. You've no idea how much you're going to learn to do in the next few hours." He swung her into his arms and carried her up a ladder into the hay loft in two bounds. Then he bent his head and kissed her, his tongue finding hers, plundering, demanding, until she felt she could no longer breathe.

He tugged at the twine holding her hair back, pulling it free until it cascaded down around her face. She slid her hands under his T-shirt, digging her nails into his back. He rolled her over onto her back, kicking off his boots, tearing off his jeans, then hers. And the last coherent thought she had as his hard cold body drove her up and over the edge into delirium for the first time that day, was 'please, oh God, please let this be the longest Christmas Eve ever.'

tbc

Hopefully the final part will be posted before Christmas! Do hope you are enjoying the story.

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