Saturday's Child

Chapter Twenty

…

Buffy wanted to follow Spike as he walked out of the hotel with their daughter, but she didn't. Because she knew him. All the times they'd fought – as enemies, allies, and then partners – the way they'd slowly grown close to each other during the pregnancy with Thursday, going through therapy both separately and together. There were still mysteries and hidden depths left to uncover, and probably always would be, but she knew Spike deep below the surface. And she knew that while he didn't like to be alone, he needed some time to himself right now to work through what had just happened.

He'd done the only thing he really could have. It was pretty much what she would have, if he hadn't gotten there first. Had that been part of it, trying to save their baby girl while also keeping Buffy from having to kill a human? She wished he hadn't. She'd been the one to mess up and leave Thursday where Holtz could get her. She deserved the weight of his death – justified as it was – on her soul, not Spike. Especially not now, when his hormones were all wonky and his emotions kind of unstable because of it.

God, they'd be unstable even without being all mood-swingy. He'd had to save Thursday from being killed twice during this horrible visit, and the two of them had been kidnapped. She was going to lock both baby and vampire into a bathtub full of bubble wrap and packing peanuts when they got home, and she doubted Spike would even complain about it. Nor for the first day or two anyway.

For right now, though, she had to deal with the aftermath and make sure no one was going to chase Spike down and try to stake him. Which actually didn't seem all that likely now that she turned her attention to the others. Angel was still clearly pissed off and held in place by Tara's spell, but the rest of his group was kind of a mixed bag.

Wesley had come back with a bottle for Connor at some point and seemed pretty clueless. Fred and Gunn were giving off vibes of confused and betrayed, and Cordelia…. Okay, she was just as angry as Angel, but she was glaring at Buffy, not trying to go after Spike or anything.

"Wait, so, you lied to us about the chip?" she demanded.

Buffy blinked at that. Huh. Was that the real problem here? Being upset about the lie? Well, it definitely fit with Cordelia. She never had liked being lied to.

"Spike tricked her," Angel insisted, finally shaking off his vamp face. "I don't know why, though probably to get back at me for Drusilla, but he's been doing some kind of long con –"

"Shut up, Angel," Buffy snapped, glaring at him. "There was a chip. It's gone now, but we wanted to be able to focus on the important stuff, so yeah, we lied to you. Spike is safe, and only killed Holtz because he was a threat."

"Well, obviously," Fred said. "That part's not really in question."

"Yes, it is! He isn't safe, and he killed someone," Angel protested.

"I'd have gutted Holtz if I'd been close enough," Fred said. Then she cocked her head and calmly added, "If I'd had a knife on me. I should probably keep more weapons on me, considering what we come across."

"That's a very good idea, actually," Wesley said as he finally handed the bottle to Gunn so Connor could be fed. "When we've time, we can look through the cache for some personal weapons for you." He smiled fondly at Fred and casually slid his arm across her shoulders. "For now, though, would someone please explain what's happened?"

…

...

Spike didn't go far, just went out to the DeSoto and retrieved the spare key duct-taped under the front bumper. Once he was inside, he pressed his back against the door and settled Thursday comfortably against his chest. He slid his hand under her shirt to rub her back, knowing skin-to-skin contact would be soothing for her. For both of them, really.

She babbled something and drooled on him a little, but didn't wake up. Poor little thing. She'd been through so much, and he'd almost lost her. Again. God, he was bloody awful at this fatherhood thing, wasn't he? He hadn't been paying enough attention, and Darla had gotten Thursday near the start of it all. He'd been daft enough to trust Darla to keep her safe after that, and of course she'd been captured and tortured. And then he'd just gone and left her, allowing Holtz to try to kill her, too.

He shuddered and closed his eyes as he breathed in her scent. Both Darla and Holtz had hesitated. That was the only reason she was still alive. The former was running about free somewhere and the latter…. Dead by Spike's own hand.

He swallowed hard and stared at the hand that wasn't holding Thursday securely against him. Then he sniffed and swiped angrily at the moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes. Why the bloody hell was he crying? He still didn't feel guilty about it. And why should he? Saved his girl, hadn't he? There was… regret that it had come to that, but the actual killing? It had been defense, not murder. Not the same as all the other poor sods he'd slaughtered over the decades. Not….

Spike blinked, his train of thought derailed as he suddenly realized he was shaking. God, all that had happened in the past few days…. He curled around his girl in the front seat of his car and finally let himself react to it all.

…

...

"So, the chip really was real?" Fred asked, a disturbing gleam in her eyes.

It worried Angel a little, though he approved of her interest. Maybe she could figure out a way to make something that would work the same and keep Spike properly leashed. Buffy had claimed a promise made nearly a year ago was keeping him from eating people, but Angel couldn't trust that. Even though, now that he'd had a little bit to think about it, he had to agree that the younger vampire hadn't actually done anything wrong. This time, anyway.

That agreement was why he was free from the spell now and holding his child. Connor was a warm, solid little weight in his arms, sleeping peacefully. How long would that peace last? Angel had a lot of enemies, including Spike. And once the baby Spike was carrying had been born, there would be no soul to hold the evil in check. Nothing to keep him from coming after Connor as a way to hurt Angel.

"Um, yeah," Buffy said in response to Fred, eyeing her warily. "But we had it removed, and he doesn't need another one."

"The hell he doesn't!" Angel snapped. "You can't trust a promise he made while being influenced by Thursday's soul. The only reason he's even keeping it now is because of the new baby's"

Buffy just gave him an odd little half-smile that almost looked triumphant and quietly said, "Now, see, we actually learned something kind of interesting about that. Baby souls apparently grow along with the baby. Last Thanksgiving, when Spike made his promise to me, Thursday's wasn't big enough to influence him at all. And he was a few weeks farther along than he is now."

Angel stared at her blankly for a moment, trying to process what she'd just said. The new baby's soul wasn't...? But that…. Once he'd actually tried, he'd been able to sense souls in both Darla and Spike. With Darla, it had obviously been Connor's. If what he'd sensed in Spike hadn't been from the baby, then….

"Willow cursed him," he realized.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He should have been glad, since it meant there was another vampire out there who could be trusted to fight the good fight. But, well, he'd tried to be evil for the first couple of years with his, and he hadn't really given a damn about actively going out and doing good until Buffy. And if he was honest with himself, he was kind of feeling jealous. He was the vampire with a soul, damn it.

And how the hell was he even keeping the soul, anyway? Angel himself had had to experience a deep connection with the woman he loved in order to lose his soul. A new happy meal toy should have been enough to send Spike's back to the hell set aside for vampire souls, and being with Buffy was so much more than that. Had they figured out a way to get rid of the happiness clause?

The thought of that hit him like a ton of bricks. No more happiness clause. If he could have that freedom….

"No, Willow didn't curse him," Buffy said, her words cutting through Angel's conflicted thoughts. She spat the witch's name like it was something bitter on her tongue. "He chose to go and fight for his soul. It nearly killed him, but he thought it was worth it, and that was after Thursday had been born." Her eyes were bright with pride. "He hadn't done anything wrong. There was no triggering event or anything. He wanted to be able to relate to Thursday and for that part of him to know us, so we could all eventually be together in whatever comes after this life. And he wanted it for himself, to have that feeling of a soul again."

Numbness and confusion and a sick tangle of hatred and jealousy shivered through Angel in waves. He could hear the others talking, asking questions to find out if Angel could do the same. He already had his soul, it wasn't something he could fight to win, and if he didn't have it…. He stared down at the sleeping newborn in his arms. Spike had gotten a soul to relate better to his child. Angel needed a soul just so he wouldn't murder his. A soul that Angelus… that he had once killed someone to keep from getting back.

"The chip still worked even with the soul?" Fred's unexpected question cut through everything else, catching Angel's attention.

"Fred," Wesley said in a cautious tone of voice just as Buffy exploded.

"What the hell is wrong with you people? Spike chose to go get a soul! Just the fact that he was able to make that decision is proof that he doesn't need anything forcing him to be good!"

"Oh, no, of course not," Fred hurriedly said. "Spike's a real sweetie. Which you know, since you live with him and everything and…." She trailed off a little awkwardly and shrugged. "But if I tweak things a little, a chip like that would be perfect for Angel. It could shock him anytime he gets too happy."

"What?" Angel stared at her in disbelief. She wanted to put in a chip in him?

"You can do that?" Cordelia asked, sounding far too excited about the idea for his comfort.

"Probably, though it may take a while. The shocking part should be easy enough, but setting up something that small to detect changes in mood could be a problem. It'd have to be really precise, so it wouldn't shock him for any happiness."

"I… I could help with that. M-maybe," Tara said, finally joining in the conversation. "There's… um, there's some magic that can basically turn something into a mood ring. I'm…." She stopped and nervously pushed her hair back behind her ears. "I'm good with that, since I can naturally see auras. But Angel would have to agree, or it wouldn't be ethical."

"Well, of course he's going to agree," Cordelia insisted. He started to protest, but she cut him off with a glare. "What? Do you want to go all evil psychopath on us the first time the baby says 'dada'?"

"Well, no, but…."

There was a moment of silence as everyone just stared at him. Did they seriously expect him to just agree to having some kind of pain chip implanted? Yes, he realized, they did. And they had a right to. Cordelia and Buffy had experienced the horror of Angelus first hand, and Wesley had gotten a glimpse when Angel had been drugged into happiness. The others had heard enough to at least have an idea of how bad it could get.

He swallowed and looked down at his son again. He would say "dada" at some point, and it was going to be amazing. There were so many milestones to look forward to. Connor's first laugh, his first steps. His first hockey field goal…. Any one of those things could unleash the evil inside of Angel, and that evil would destroy his son. Unless they chipped him up to make him safe.

Before he could say anything about the idea, Buffy turned towards the stairs. "Where are you going?"

"To get a couple of things before finding Spike," she answered with a brief look over her shoulder at him. "This is all between you and your friends. It doesn't really have anything to do with me. Though I'm telling you this, now. You lose your soul, you'll have to be dusted. Willow won't be cursing you again." She went up the stairs without another word or a backwards glance.

It doesn't really have anything to do with me. Her words echoed in his mind as he watched her go. The idea had been circling for the past few days, come close before he would resolutely chase it away. But he couldn't do that anymore. Not with her words and tone of voice. He finally had to admit it. Buffy wasn't the same young girl he'd fallen in love with. She had grown up, and in doing so, had outgrown him and moved on with her life.

Maybe it was time for him to do the same.

…

...

The shaking and the sodding tears had finally died down by the time someone opened the passenger side door. Buffy, with her purse and a few of Thursday's things from the hotel. She didn't say a word at first, just put it all into the back before sitting down and leaning against him. They sat together in silence for a long moment, Buffy reaching out to gently stroke Thursday's sleeping face.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "I'm sorry I put you through that. I –"

"Not your fault, love," Spike interrupted, his voice as quiet as hers. "You'd no way of knowing what was going to happen."

He shifted so he could wrap his arm around her, and she settled against him with a soft sigh. He felt wrung out and sort of hollow, but also peaceful. Despite all that had happened, it was actually a lovely November night, and Buffy and Thursday were there with him. They'd go home, and in a few days, it'd be Thanksgiving. Thursday would have her first taste of pumpkin pie, and he'd snag an extra piece again this year, claiming it was for Aliena, and…. Bloody hell, he was sniffling again.

Buffy hugged him. "It's going to be okay," she murmured. "She's okay. We're okay. Everything's okay."

We're okay. Were they okay? He'd been trying to put it out of his mind, to dismiss it as not important, but he couldn't help thinking of the kiss he'd seen.

"You and Angel…."

She interrupted him by pulling the talking stick out of her pocket, which was hardly fair, seeing as how she'd been hogging it this trip. She stared at in silence as she gathered her thoughts, then finally spoke.

"There's nothing there. I think whatever was died a long time ago, when I stabbed him with a sword and sent him to hell to stop Acathla. Maybe even before that." She went quiet again for a moment. "I ended things with him, you know. After you showed up in Sunnydale all drunk and depressed over Dru. We got back together when he threatened suicide, but it was never really the same. I wanted it to be, and I clung to it and tried to pretend, but… it just wasn't."

She shrugged and snuggled in closer. There was a faint twinge of sadness in her voice, but no pain. The memories weren't exactly happy, but they didn't seem to hurt her now. Despite that lack, Spike wanted to say something, to reassure her that Angel had always been a bit of a selfish wanker, even at his best, but she still had the talking stick, so he kept his gob shut.

"I thought for a long time that the problem was me," she continued. "That there was something wrong inside of me that had ruined everything. But I finally figured it out, after being with you. The problem was me, but it's that I wasn't a naive kid anymore. And that's a good thing, not something wrong. Coming here, it drove it all home, so I'm glad for that at least. Though I wish you'd gotten to see me beat Angel up after he forced that kiss on me."

Spike blinked at that and had to bite his tongue to keep quiet. She'd beaten Angel after the kiss? He wished he could have seen it, too. Knowing about it, though, it quieted some of the insecurities roiling around inside of him.

"And, I guess, that's really what I wanted to say," she said, handing him the stick.

He could say whatever he wanted now, and she couldn't interrupt. Or wasn't supposed to, anyway. They both tried to follow the talking stick rules, but, well, following rules in general wasn't exactly a strong suit for either of them. He could say all sorts of things about Angel that were bloody well true, but would hurt her because she'd loved him once, and she'd heap blame and recriminations on the girl she'd been, blinded by the rose-colored glasses of youth and infatuation.

But, really, there was only one thing he wanted to say. One thing that really encapsulated all he was feeling right now. "I love you," he said, setting the talking stick aside. "I want to go home."

"Yeah. Me, too."

And as simple as that, they really were okay. They got everything sorted and Thursday situated into her car seat. They gave Tara's cell phone a quick ring. She was apparently going to be staying for a couple of weeks to help with some kind of chip for Angel – and Spike couldn't help feeling a bit smug about that – but would pack up anything they'd left behind for Giles to bring back.

And then they drove away, leaving Angel and his problems behind as they headed home, where they belonged.