Chapter One Hundred and Forty Two
The Family Way
New Sunnydale, the world without shrimp - November 2006
The day was the same. Xander stood in his living room, calling Anya's name and brushing his hair back, cursing himself for letting her slip away from him. She was pregnant and he'd acted like a complete jerk. He'd ignored her and been selfish and everything was his fault until he found her. "ANYA!" He shouted again just to let the anger out. He marched out of the house, down the front steps and opened the driver side door of his truck. He'd lied to himself before, he had an idea of where she would go, but he didn't know for sure.
Anya slammed her fist down on the bar top. "And then he tells me that he can't do this," she spat across the bar to the poor bartender who'd offered to listen to her plight, hoping to get a date out of her and then finding out she just wanted to complain about her husband. The disappointment was strewn across his face like carrot puree on a one year old. Not that Anya wanted to think about babies right at that moment. "Like I'm supposed to just go along with it, like he doesn't want me, or our family. I don't know," she said twirling the straw of her coke around her fingers as the bartender started cleaning another glass. The bar was basically deserted, just a few vampires hanging out in the corner eyeing Anya up as their next meal. Not that she paid them any attention, but they could smell the human on her from a mile away. "Maybe this is what breaks us? But I don't want this to break us!" She said, slamming her fist down again, "I love us! And everything was going so perfectly, the house is sorted and we have a tiny bedroom to decorate and put a baby in, we just didn't have the baby yet. And now we do. So everything's perfect, except it isn't because Xander doesn't want it." The bartender sighed weekly, he'd heard this already, five minutes ago, when he served Anya her drink.
Anya mulled over her coke for a few silent minutes, she was all out of words to shout at the guy pouring the drinks, but that didn't mean she was finished. Far from it, she wanted to talk to Xander, but she was too stubborn to beg him, so she was composing the words she wanted him to hear. "Anya!" A voice said from behind her, she turned around, banging her glass down on the countertop.
"What are you doing here?" They both said at the same time, Xander approaching her at the bar, the pregnancy test still clutched tightly in his hand. "And what is that?" He said pointing to the drink, "because you can't have alcohol, Anya, you're pregnant." The vampires in the corner gave a dramatic gasp and then pretended to faint as they sniggered from behind the couple.
"What do you care anyway?" Anya snapped back, taking a sip of her coke just to spite him. "It's coke, dummy. I'm not that stupid, I know about the alcohol thing. Do you know how many pregnant women asked me to do vengeance for them over the years? A lot Xander, a lot." She looked back at the counter and refused to look back at him. She pretended to herself that admiring wood grain was one of her hobbies.
"Anya, I do care." Xander started, knowing she was upset, knowing he was on thin ice here, and knowing that it was up to him to fix this. "An, I'm sorry. I spoke to Willow, she made me see sense. I love you so much, why would I not want our baby?" He echoed as if he'd heard her conversation with the bartender. The angry lines in her face fell slowly away and she risked looking up at him. "I think we are ready. I think you would be an amazing mom, and I'm gonna try to be the best dad that I can." Xander said softly, reaching for her hand. She took it willingly, her thoughts changing as quickly as usual. Her spiting turned back into loving within seconds. She loved and hated that being human toyed with her emotions.
"Okay. I forgive you. Can we paint the nursery now?" She asked quickly, wanting to change the subject now they were all made up, but by the look on Xander's face it didn't seem to have worked.
"Maybe let's wait a few weeks An, we don't know anything yet." He said trying to remedy the situation and get her out of here before she had him picking out cribs and strollers and onesies.
"Oh goody, I get to read those fun baby book things and do shopping." She replied excitedly, hoping out of her seat and letting Xander lead her out of the bar. Who was mentally preparing himself for another eight months of this version of Anya. Not that he wasn't excited too, but part of him was holding back until the baby was actually here, because what if it was some kind of demon?
They were just on their way out through the back door of the bar, when one of the vampires in the corner stood up and blocked the exit. "Hey, you wanna move along champ, we're just tryna get out of here." Xander said, looking back at Anya in slight panic. The guy was well over six feet and well over the height of Xander. He made his face all bumpy and bared his fangs. Xander held his hands up in surrender and started to back away. But the vampire was on him now, the bar was dark and almost empty, now was the perfect time to strike. He punched Xander in the face and he fell to the floor unconscious, Anya screamed, "no! Get off you loser vamp!" She shoved him hard in the chest and then pulled back. She stared up and him in fear, he hadn't budged from her pathetic shove and he was about to... yep he was about to punch her lights out.
"Hey!" Xander yelled, his consciousness coming back to him and he managed to pull himself up off the floor, a bruise pickling away on his cheek. But his nose wasn't bleeding so he stood a good chance. "Get away from her!" He continued, pushing Anya slightly backwards so he could face the vampire. "Hey barkeep! Got something long and wooden and pointy?" He called to the bartender without looking away from the bumpy vamp's face. He threw over a pool cue and Xander managed to catch it in a suave move that he never would normally have the confidence too. But this was one of those days where he had something to prove. He was acting mostly on instinct, his blood pumping, adrenaline stopping all this thoughts apart from ones that would protect Anya.
The large vampire was brutish and a little stupid, so he eased off of Anya and set his sights firmly on the guy with the pool cue, waiting a minute until the fight was resumed. Xander took a step back, telling Anya to get out of the way and bracing himself for another punch. But the guy just stood there, waiting. "You gonna attack, big guy?" He asked, then realised his mistake. "Wait! Why am I asking?" He said, lunging the pool cue into the vamp's chest and dusting him into the floor with the cockroaches. To which the other vamps responded by scampering off out the back door. Then Xander stood victorious, holding the stick above his head and looking around behind him. The bartender was ducking behind the bar and Anya was standing behind him, fear in her eyes, a serious look on her face.
"You did it." She said, with a slight disbelief, but that was probably the shock talking. She approached him and kissed his cheek as he threw the pool across the room and wrapped his arm around Anya's shoulders.
"You wanna go home?" He asked, walking her back to his truck, Mr Man-of-the-hour. She must've mumbled back a 'yeah' because they piled in and took off for the house.
San Francisco, the world without shrimp - November 2006
Willow opened the door to Buffy's frantic knocking. There were tear tracks running down her face, and a red puffiness to her eyes that said she'd been crying for a while. "Hey Buff, are you okay?" The redhead asked, looking down at her fuzzy pink pyjamas and wondering what the matter was. "Obviously, you're not," she said slowly, gesturing to Buffy's (also pyjama-clad) state. "Come in, I'll put the kettle on." Then she rolled her eyes because since living with the coven for a year, she was starting to sound as British as Giles, well not quite.
"Thanks, Will." She said after they were sitting at the kitchen table with steaming mugs of Tara's night tea between their fingers.
"Tare's sleeping, I didn't wanna wake her, she has a big something-or-other tomorrow." Willow said, brushing her long hair behind her ear and sipping her tea.
"Sorry, for this," she pointed the room, to herself and to the whole late-night situation in general. But Willow brushed her off, this was what best friends were supposed to do for each other. And they only lived down the hall. "I wouldn't normally but um... it was Spike."
"His dreams again?" Willow supplied.
"Yes, I made him try that stuff that Jenny gave you, well it worked, Will. He remembered, he woke up and told me what he dreamt, but he still looked awful. I think he was even sweating, I didn't even think he could do that." Buffy took a deep breath and wiped another tear away.
"What was it, the dream?"
"Drusilla." Buffy said deadpan, looking down at the swirling green water in her cup, "he was so angry, he said he could feel the blood. He was dreaming about them killing together, him and Drusilla, from years ago. He got up, said he was going to find her, going to kill her."
"Right. And that's bad, how?" Willow chimed in.
"He was just so angry, I've never seen him like that, well not in years. Not with a soul. Every ounce of his usual self was gone. I'm just worried she's affecting him somehow, like some kind of spell. We know she's crazy, maybe she found out about his soul, wants revenge, or she wants him back. They were together for a century, what do I have on that? I'm just the girl he fell in love with for a hot minute, this is Spike, he used to have a new obsession every week." Buffy went on, Willow mentally checking what kind of dream spells she knew about. But she already knew she was going to have to call Jenny in the morning, and talk to Tara. "I don't know what to do, he's gone, I don't know if he's coming back. What do I do?"
Willow didn't know any more than Buffy did. But she hugged her friend regardless, and told her everything would be okay. They finished their tea and then she put her back to bed and checked on Dawn and snuggled in beside Tara for the last few hours of darkness before the sun rose again. What a lousy Thanksgiving. None of them had remembered, none of them had parents willing to tell them to come home for the holiday, and Giles didn't keep track of American holidays like he used to. Not now he had Jenny to think of again. They could've had a big feast that following day, but no, because the forces of darkness were at work. And the universe works in mysterious ways it seems. But that year was henceforth known as 'the year Thanksgiving was forgotten' when, a couple of weeks later, Buffy realised they'd completely missed it. And by then Christmas was well on its way.