[Reviews - 638]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2739 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
Oh and I know the Council could have swooped in and kicked ass without the whole 'rendezvous' point, but Buffy needed to have some to deliver the baby, dammit. So just ignore that glaring, gaping hole in logic, please!

A/N 2- I had originally posted on this fic and said I would not be updating on SR any longer, but after 2years out of the fandom, I don't really know why i said that (other than at the time, i had my own fic archive, which is no longer the case) Since I'm working on finishing this story, i thought I'd post the missing chapters and then will post the newest one shortly. Sorry for the tackiness, btw!!
Chapter 27

Spike was waiting to see if Travers would keep his word.

Lacking the necessary conviction that he would still be assured a place in this world once they made it to the rendezvous spot, Spike found his anxiety escalating once they were swallowed up into the protective embrace of the Council's highly effective team. Knowing that there was safety in numbers did little to soothe him, especially with his demon looking at the Council's muscle as potential enemies rather than the saviors he hoped they would be.

Christ, he hoped Travers was playing straight with him.

Wondering if these were to be his last moments with his daughter and Buffy, Spike's resigned eyes traced the gentle delicacy of both his girls' slumbering features, noting the shared graceful bone structure that could already be discerned behind the layers of wrinkled newborn skin.

Spike could feel the warmth of his daughter's tiny body seeping into him through the blanket, flooding him with a sense of absolute peace and paternal pride. Gazing down at what had to be the most perfect face ever to grace a newborn, Spike couldn't help but experience relief that she appeared to be much more mortal in nature than immortal. Spike's finely tuned hearing assured him that her tiny heart beat in a rhythm all its own, and had from the moment she had been brought painfully into this world. Granted, he knew it was pumping at a much slower rate than was typical for mortal babies, but it was the fact that she had a beating heart to begin with that brought him a small measure of comfort. Not that he would have shunned her if his precious girl had been born lacking a heart that beat when she was clearly not deceased. Nope, that would have been fine with him, and he had a feeling it would have been alright with Buffy, as well. But Spike also knew that every trait that defined his little girl as mortal, rather than demon, would only serve to ensure her future safety, and that was the only thought that he allowed himself to consider.

They had gone through too much to have something happen to her now.

Ducking his head down, Spike pressed a gentle kiss to his daughter's tiny forehead, awash in the indescribable feeling of holding the tiny body tucked in the crook of one arm while her mother was tucked safely in the other. He closed his eyes to savor the moment, wishing he had the ability to see into the future, his stomach churning at the thought of losing his family.

And he waited, fervently hoping that Travers and his Council would allow him the chance to prove himself.

Moments later, the armored truck - that had served so well as a getaway vehicle and later as a make-shift birthing unit - was directed into the blessed cool shade of a large aircraft hangar. After the almost painful silence that had settled during the last part of the harrowing journey, the weary crew greeted the bustle of noise and activity willingly as the back door to the truck was thrown open and probing eyes surveyed the occupants. Spike breathed a sigh of relief when he detected no imminent threat from these men, only a morbid sense of curiosity. It didn't surprise him to see the black tactical gear that most of them wore, their calm efficiency hinting at a more colorful background than mere employees of the Watcher's Council.

Travers exited first, his command and authority assured with every move he made as he barked out a demand for a full status report. He was quickly joined by Buffy's watcher, who Spike realized also garnered his own level of respect. A creak and slam from the front passenger door alerted the vampire that the boy, Xander, had taken his leave of the vehicle, and Spike figured Peaches wasn't in any more of a hurry to leave the sanctuary of their rescue transport than he was.

Spike glanced down at the sleeping baby in his arm before directing his gaze to the slumbering slayer against his chest, concern overriding his base instincts that screamed at him to take his girls and run; that trusting the council could very well be the last thing he would ever do on this earth. Conflicted, his heart swelled with untapped emotion as he beheld the innocent beauty of his daughter, hoping he was doing right by her.

"It'll be ok," a feminine voice uttered softly next to him.

Spike looked over at Christine sharply, ready to bite her head off for her naiveté. Until he realized that she had been saying the words more to reassure herself than to offer him any type of emotional support. The girl was obviously scared. Petrified, a more apt description.

The reality of her current situation and what had just come to pass had obviously staked its claim; her body reacting to the uncertainty of the near future with a pounding heart and a respiratory rate that was well on its way to hyperventilation.

She looked terrified, he realized. Unlike him, the soldier didn't have any bargaining tools. No carrot to wave under the Council's nose that promised dark secrets on vampire lore, the true history of William the Bloody and those in his line. Not to mention the added bonus of willingly being able to study those that he considered his. No, this girl was even more at the mercy of the Council than he was, probably figuring that the wankers owed her nothing. She had committed more than one felony against her country and its military - not that Spike didn't believe with everything in him that the fuckers got exactly what they deserved. But he couldn't deny that their ragged group wouldn't have gotten as far as they had without the soldier girl's voluntary assistance.

He just hoped that the mighty Council of Wankers realized that.

"Don't suppose you'd want to stick around and maybe help Buffy with the baby, would ya?" The words were out before Spike had even given them thought, not knowing exactly where that idea had come from. It irritated slightly that he even cared about what might happen to her. His daily affirmation regarding his evil status was becoming harder and harder for even him to believe lately.

But when Christine directed a wide-eyed, grateful look his way, Spike realized he had done the right thing - poncey or not. He'd managed to give her a tiny bit of reassurance that she wasn't going to be left behind to take the fall for whatever cover-up was already surely being thought up by the military, while the rest of them flew off to safety. Her obvious gratitude shouldn't have bothered him so much, but it did; knowing instinctively that Christine wasn't used to people putting themselves on the line for her.

He was doing this for Buffy, he told himself sternly, only because Buffy had liked the girl and would be brassed off if the soldier got left behind. It didn't hurt that she knew something about babies, either, figuring the two of them were going to need all the help they could get.

Struggling to swallow the sudden lump that gratitude had formed in her throat, Christine found herself unable to immediately respond. Before she could get a grip on her spazzing emotions to tell him thank you, she was interrupted by the sound of something heavy striking the side of the truck. Seconds later, several members of the Watcher's Council team bounded inside, their presence quickly overwhelming the small interior.

Spike immediately reacted to the threat, fangs flying free from his gums as he growled in warning, low rumbles that ripped almost savagely from his chest while his amber eyes locked in on the intruders.

The men stilled in unison, having been assured by the man in charge that neither vampire would pose any threat to them but more than prepared for the unexpected.

Noting the potential for badness, Christine quickly jumped to her feet in the back of the truck and put herself between the Council members and her newfound friends. "Can we help you?" she asked, trying to appear more intimidating than her small form allowed, especially when she saw one of them discreetly reaching for a weapon.

"Mr. Travers instructed us to get Ms. Summers onboard the aircraft," the Council soldier closest to Christine informed her, eyeing the vampire warily, his fingers itching to grab the stake he had stashed in one of his many pockets. "We have a gurney waiting and there are medical supplies onboard."

That came as welcomed news. "Ok, good. But, next time? Don't come rushing in here. After everything that has happened, we're all a little on the touchy side." Christine turned to face Spike, who was regarding her with a mixture of amusement and gratitude. "Spike, why don't you hand me the baby and then you can carry Buffy."

Spike didn't answer, but the face of his demon slid away and he motioned for Christine to take his daughter from his arms, studying every move the girl made as the soldier cradled the sleeping bundle securely against her chest. Only when Spike witnessed the tender smile that transformed Christine's face as she stared into his daughter's sleeping features did he relax, his trust in the soldier further verified by the emotion on the girl’s face. It made sense, though. Spike knew he couldn't carry them both, especially with Buffy's sleep bordering more on the comatose than any type of deep, restorative rest.

Ignoring the intruding soldiers, Spike attempted to shift his legs beneath him in order to gain his feet, gritting his teeth at the pain that accompanied the movement. He may not have blood that actually circulated, but Spike was more than feeling the affects of being Buffy's pillow on the hard truck floor while they'd traveled over the bumpy desert road. Especially when combined with his previous not-quite-healed injuries that he'd suffered at the base. The blood he had taken earlier from Buffy had gone a long way in restoring him, but even its magical powers apparently had a limit.

Lacking much of his usual grace, he eventually made his way to his feet, careful to keep from jarring Buffy any more than necessary. His nostrils flared when he scented the fresh blood that moving Buffy had brought about and didn't even try to mask the panic and fear that he knew was stamped all over his face.

"We will be able to transfuse Ms. Summers as soon as we are underway," one of the men commented, having read Spike's expression accurately before watching the vampire's face melt into relief.

"What are we waiting for, then?" Spike bit out gruffly, shifting his burden in his arms. Oblivion beckoned him, but Spike refused to give into its greedy demands until they were well and truly on their way. Only then would he be able to let down his vigil a fraction and allow himself to rest. Turning his back on the bloody mess that was being left behind in the back of the truck, Spike wasted no time in brushing past the Council's men and stepping down from the back of the truck, ignoring them completely as they followed closely at his heels. He felt confident that he wouldn't be harmed while he had an armful of post-partum slayer.


With one quick look behind him, Spike tossed back to Christine, "Take care with my daughter, yeah?"

"I will," Christine assured him, framed in the opened doorway of the truck. She had expected Spike to wait for her, but with a curt nod in response, the vampire dismissed her and strode confidently towards the plane, not bothering with the gurney at all. She felt awed that he trusted her enough to keep his child safe.

Christine watched as he headed across the spacious hangar, no doubt in a hurry to get Buffy hooked up to whatever she needed in order to recover from her horrendous ordeal. Idly, she wondered if she'd ever have anybody in her life as devoted to her as Spike obviously was to Buffy, then told herself not to count on it. She took a moment to survey the controlled chaos around her, finding it somewhat familiar - comforting, almost. She discovered that she wasn't the only one who had watched Spike's procession to the plane, and her eyes narrowed at the slightly smug look on Travers' face as he studied the vampire. The same smug look that didn't go away even when Spike disappeared through the aircraft doors and was out of sight, where hopefully medical assistance for Buffy would be waiting.

Figuring she would just keep her guard up, and wait to see what that was about, Christine glanced down at Buffy and Spike's little bundle of joy.

"You ready to go, princess?" The lack of response didn't surprise her, not having expected one. "You know, you really need a name. Oh yes, you do, you little cutie." Realizing how quickly she had succumbed to baby-talking, Christine just shook her head ruefully, never thinking she would see that day.

Grabbing the back door with her free hand for support, Christine moved to take the huge step down from the tall truck, unprepared when the door swung out before her foot had reached the ground. A terrified gasp escaped as she found herself lurching forward, visions of her death at Spike's hands playing before her eyes for hurting his baby.

But her unexpected flight was brought to a sudden halt when one large, strong hand curled around her bicep, another wrapping around her waist and hauling her upright before any damage could be done.

Heart pounding in her chest for what was probably the millionth time that day, Christine checked to make sure that the baby was ok before looking up gratefully to thank her savior, who continued to hold her in his apparently strong grasp.

And found herself suddenly incapable of any type of speech, whatsoever.


tbc...





You must login (register) to review.