Saturday's Child

Chapter Eighteen

…

"What do you mean he's gone?" Lilah snapped into the phone, feeling like the world had dropped out from under her feet. She had just moments before gotten permission to use one of the vacation dimensions for her project, and now she was being told the damn vampire was missing? "The door to that room is reinforced and the rest of the building isn't warm enough. He couldn't have just up and walked out."

"That's, uh, sort of what happened," the man on the other end of the line reported nervously. "There was some strange sort of disturbance down in the lobby, and according to the security cameras, the woman we were supposed to capture just walked right in and freed the vampire."

Lilah closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. The higher ups knew about her plan, but it wasn't like she was the only one to screw things up. Linwood and Gavin had failed spectacularly at getting a hold of Darla and her baby and had cost them a good commando team and a highly respected demon obstetrician. They'd take the brunt of the punishment, especially if she could figure out a way to turn this around.

"What about the baby?" she asked, knowing it was a longshot. She may not have been the motherly sort herself, but she doubted the Slayer would have rescued the vampire carrying her child while ignoring the one that had already been born.

"Also gone. The researcher in charge of it is in critical condition in the medical wing and all of the equipment and test results have been destroyed."

Damn it. "They can't have gotten far. I want –"

The door to her office suddenly burst open and two men walked in. One was a tweedy, mild-mannered looking guy in glasses, but the other one had that smooth, shark-in-a-suit feel of another lawyer. She didn't recognize him, which meant he was from some other Wolfram & Hart location or a completely different firm.

"Hey, I told you she wasn't available to see you now!" her secretary shouted, slipping into the room and trying to herd them back out.

"Oh, I imagine Ms. Morgan would very much rather see us now than later," the tweedy man said. "Though if you insist, we can wait until after we've leaked photographic evidence of the kidnapping and unlawful confinement of William and Thursday Summers and the torture of an infant."

A chill went down Lilah's spine at his words. The mild-mannered seeming had fallen away like an unneeded mask, revealing someone cold and hard. She had no trouble believing this man could and would release the pictures he said he had. And if those got out…. They'd been testing the baby's ability to heal, and it would look like prolonged, systematic torture. They could be declared fakes and buried, but the L.A. branch of Wolfram & Hart would still take a massive PR hit.

"It's all right, Carol," Lilah said, her gaze locked on the man. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"Rupert Giles, the honorary grandfather of one Thursday Anne Summers. As for what I want…." He inclined his head towards the other man, who stepped forward to place his briefcase down on Lilah's desk. "I decided the best course of action was to fight fire with fire. This is Brandon McNally, one the lawyers the Watcher's Council uses here in America. He's drawn up a contract for you to sign, ensuring that neither you nor your organization will ever again go after Miss Summers or any of her family."

Lilah watched, feeling numb as McNally withdrew a contract from his briefcase. The Watcher's Council may have kept itself mostly to England, but they had their fingers in almost as many pies as Wolfram & Hart. Hell, there were even some possibly not-so-ex Watchers working in this very building. Was that how they'd known that she was in charge of this particular project? And that as the one who had instigated it, she had the authority to shut it down permanently. Which she would need to do, since the Watcher's Council had the clout to keep the story of baby torture going.

She looked over the contract. It was a fairly standard one, saying that all attempts to capture or use Buffy, William, or Thursday Summers or any of their family would cease and that no new ones would be initiated. It also asked for full disclosure on what her plan had been.

"You'll need to sign in blood," McNally reminded her as she reached for a normal pen.

"Of course."

She pulled the correct pen out of her desk drawer and signed her name at all the appropriate points, her mind whirling as she tried to figure out how she was going to last the week with her head still firmly attached.

…

...

The midwife had told her she should be resting despite her fast healing, but Darla had never really been one to follow orders unless they'd come from her sire. Her first one, that was. Damned if she was ever going to be Dru's mindless little puppy like Spike.

Spike…. Her thoughts drifted to her great-grandson/brother as she got up out of Lorne's bed. Had he felt that same loss and strange sort of emptiness after his child had been born? Not just the sudden lack of the baby, but the soul being gone as well? Had he held his newborn and felt something strange and tender, along with the desire to rip out the tiny little throat?

She didn't know, and ultimately she didn't care. She made her way to the door and opened it just enough to peer out into the club. There was Angel. The hand she'd crushed during labor was wrapped up, but didn't seem to be interfering with him holding their son. She'd wondered if he'd lose his soul over this, but while he'd looked overjoyed and amazed at the birth, he'd also looked terrified. That terror was still there, along with love and affection as he gazed down at the baby.

For a moment, she wondered if maybe they could make it work. The pig blood was vile, but she could always live on donated human from wherever Spike was getting his. They could all live happily ever after as a family…. Until the baby cried one too many times and she bashed his needy little skull in for it.

She had no trouble believing Spike could pull off being a good mommy as a vampire – the whole caregiver thing being a holdover from his human life that Dru had made damn sure survived his turning – but it just wasn't in her. She hadn't been mother material as a human, and she wasn't now, even if there seemed to be part of her that still felt vaguely affectionate towards her baby.

The best thing she could do for the kid was to leave him right where he was. Not that Angel was the best idea for a father, but his team had good people. Cordelia had looked after her despite hating her, after all.

Darla carefully closed the door, then reached for the jacket Angel had left in the room. As she'd thought, his car keys were still in the pocket. With a smile of satisfaction, she fished them out and moved the bed as quietly as she could, revealing the secret (though not so much to the rats or people who could hear them scurrying around) tunnel. She'd be back someday, she had no doubt, but for now, it was time to hit the road.

…

...

Buffy closed her phone and stared at it, feeling sick. If they'd been even a few minutes slower, Spike would have been shunted off into another dimension. There was a chance they still could have rescued him, but he probably would have spent the entire pregnancy alone in enemy hands, being poked and prodded and treated like some kind of lab rat. And if they'd managed to capture her...

According to Giles, the plan had been to stick Spike in that other dimension over and over again, only pulling him out to force the two of them to go through the So'voriku ritual. They would have used the two of them to make an army of slaypires, the girls raised by others to be mindless tools.

She shuddered and put her phone away before turning towards Spike. They were back at the hotel, Spike sitting on the bed with Thursday asleep on his lap while he finished off the tea Buffy had made for him. Thursday's playpen was set up with its comfy sleeping pad, but Spike wasn't ready to put her in it yet.

"Seems almost too easy, don't it?" he said quietly. "Way our lives work, the rescue should have been a lot more last minute."

"Hey, maybe the universe just realized we deserved a break," she said as she sat down beside him. She wrapped her arm around him, and he leaned into it. "I have you and Thursday back, and I kind of just wanna bask in that without thinking about it too much."

"Works for m-" He froze suddenly, head tilted, then frowned. "You hear that? Sounds like Angel bellowing down in the lobby and a sprog crying."

Buffy sighed. She wanted to just ignore Angel and the crying that was probably his kid, but he was probably going to need some pointers or something on how to actually take care of said kid. As pissed off as she was at Angel right now, his little boy didn't deserve to suffer for it.

"Come on, we should go see what's going on down there," she said, reluctantly getting up.

Spike gathered up Thursday, gently shushing her when she let out an exhausted little cry. Buffy bit her lip. The best thing was to put the baby down into her playpen to sleep, but she knew it was going to be hard for Spike be away from her right now. Maybe seeing that she'd be okay if they left the room would help him, though?

"We're all safe here," she said softly, reaching for the Thursday. God, the look in Spike's eyes, like he couldn't trust anyone with their daughter, not even her. "Just trust me, okay? It's just us and Angel's team." She frowned. "And that Holtz guy I told you about, but he isn't a threat. He stopped his attack on Angel so he'd be able to help us rescue you and Thursday."

Of course, Angel had turned out to not play any part in said rescue, but still, a fight would have been a distraction that no one needed. She still felt bad for the guy. Maybe there was something they could do for him. It would have to wait though. Right now, she needed to take care of Spike and help him deal with his fear for Thursday.

He just stared at her for a moment, then took a slow, deep breath and let her have the baby. Thank God. Buffy hugged her little girl before carefully putting her down to sleep. Then she took Spike's hand and led him out of the room.

…

...

Holtz waited in one of the rooms with the door partially open so he could hear when the slayer and the vampire left their room. A quick look out showed that neither was holding the abomination as they went down the stairs. He gave them a few minutes to get down to lobby before sneaking into their room.

And there she was. An infant sleeping innocently. As innocent as his own baby, murdered in his crib by Angelus and Darla. As innocent as his poor little Sarah. He gently reached down and cradled in her arms. He should end her now. Smother her or snap her delicate little neck, but as he looked at her, the song he'd once sung to his little girl spilled from his lips.

"Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee," he sang softly, "all through the night."

Tears misted his sight as he remembered his dear child, sitting and playing as if she hadn't a care in the world. As if she hadn't been murdered and her body taken over by a demon. This poor babe had been born with the demon inside, though no fault of her own, and her mother no doubt loved her.

"Guardian angels God will send thee." His voice wavered slightly as he cuddled the quietly fusing baby in his arms. "All through the night."

The smart thing would be to kill her now, but he couldn't do it. Not yet. He'd take her downstairs so her mother could see her one last time. And then….

Then he would put an end to the abomination.