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chapter 11

Back at the library, Xander commented, "Ok, want to tell me again why we're leaving Buffy alone with a murdering bloodsucker?"

Giles threw a heated look at the teen. "Xander, need I remind you yet again that Buffy is the slayer?"

"Yes, and I'm sure that will do her a lot of good when he has her under his thrilling thrall thingie."

Giles cast his eyes towards the ceiling in a fit of impatience. "Xander, I am well aware of the implications here. And while I too have my doubts, I don't think our presence is required at this time."

"G-man, he's a killer!"

"I am well acquainted with that fact, thank you. And I would appreciate if you did not refer to me in such a...common way."

"Sure thing, G'sters."

"Oh good lord. Is there anything wrong with keeping a name the way it was intended?"

"Such things offend the XanMan." Xander replied as he put his feet up on the table and leaned back, appreciating the fact he was managing to ruffle that cool British reserve.

Giles pinned an annoyed look on the smug teen. "You should consider yourselves fortunate that I allow you to get away with referring to me by merely my last name without doing your best to butcher it, you know."


"Ok, Rupert."

"Oh, for God's sakes." Giles turned to the stack of books on the research table, then in an attempt to rid himself of the troublesome teen, he commented, "Well, I have quite a bit of research ahead of me. Perhaps you care to help me out?"

That caused Xander to jump to his feet, as he grabbed his bag of chips and clutched them tightly to his chest. "The XanMan would, but I promised Willow I'd be over at her house about...." Xander made a point of looking down at his wrist, which was unadorned and bare. "Oh gee, would you look at the time. I gotta go."

Giles gave him a pained look, but told him to go. Xander practically ran for the exit in his hurry to escape researching hell. Before he went through the double doors, he suddenly paused and turned back to Giles, all traces of the obnoxious teen wiped off his face. "Giles, do you really think Buffy is going to be ok?"

Giles let out a deep sigh and sank down heavily into one of the chairs, taking a moment to answer. "Quite honestly, I'm not sure, Xander. I'd like to hope that things will all work out, but we are dealing with an extremely dangerous vampire here. Very old and powerful. But, from what I've seen, he's not fitting the mold of a typical vampire. I do know that he saved Buffy's mother's life today, and as a vampire, to be that close to that amount of blood and not act on it,.... well, it's enough to make me wonder. Spike apparently has quite a rigid control on that part of him that makes him a monster. However, I just pray that it is enough."

Xander stood in the doorwayfor a moment, pondering Giles words. "So do I." With a wave and a "later Gman", Xander was gone and Giles was left alone with his books. This was not something that particularly bothered him, to be in the constant company of teens was a strain at times, especially since prior to coming to Sunnydale, his peers were fellow Watchers, who were quite a bit like him. Reserved and British. So yes, to be alone was something he found quite enjoyable. When he opened the ancient volumes, they seemed to come alive for him, telling him tales of different times, different eras. Of what could be, and what will be. The written word was always something that Giles could sink his teeth into, it was something sacred to him, something for him to worship and study. No matter how many times he would glance through these ancient texts, there was always some pearl of wisdom ready to be extracted from the dusty pages to be implanted into his brain. Of that, it was a certainty like no other. With those reverent thoughts in mind, he began to research for a possible explanation to Blake's existence. The boy should not have been conceived, yet here he was, and Giles could only wonder what significance that held.
~~~~
"
Spike and Buffy's time on the couch quickly came to an end by the awakening of a fully refreshed and recharged 15 month old. Blake looked at Spike and smiled happily. "Dada!" Then he turned his head and shouted "Mama!!"

Buffy's face softened, and it didn't escape her notice the tender look on Spike's face at their son's waking comments. "Hi sweetie." Buffy pulled herself to a sitting position as Blake scrambled off of Spike's chest and threw himself into her arms. Hugging him tight, she stood up with him. "I'm uh, going to go give him his dinner."

Spike nodded, noticing that Buffy seemed ill at ease now, and wondered what was going through her head. "I fed him some lunch earlier, before we both conked out. Dunno if I did it right, but he seemed to eat ok."
 
"Thanks." Came her distracted response as she headed into the kitchen. Spike sat up and ran his hand through his hair again before he grabbed his smokes and headed out to the porch. Dusk would be falling soon, and not a moment too soon as far as Spike was concerned. Lighting up, he pulled the smoke deep into his nonliving lungs and exhaled forcefully. He could take air in and out, but the basic body mechanics of exchanging oxygen and CO2 died when he took his last breath over a hundred years ago. It wasn't something he particularly missed, breathing. Or realized it was missing most of the time. But when he smoked and would see the smoke billow out in a rush of stagnant expirations, it would lead his mind to wondering. To his life, before he was a vampire. And that led to thoughts of his son. And Buffy.

In the kitchen, Buffy had hoisted Blake into his high chair and had fixed some fish sticks for him. While they were cooling, she fed him the chocolate soy pudding that he liked, as her thoughts also took a side trip. Spike wasn't staying in the evil little box she had built for him, and yeah ok, it was cause for some wiggins. He had saved her mom, he had taken care of Blake. And the most confusing thing, he actually seemed to care. And god help her, she could tell she was falling for him. Again. That feeling in her gut tingled every time he was near. Why was her life always so damn confusing? It would be so much easier if he could have just stayed evil, then she wouldn't be faced with this issue of trust. Because if she made the wrong decision here, lives were at stake. Her life sucked, she decided with a pout.

She looked up when Spike clomped into the kitchen. "Going to go take a shower. I'll take you to see your mum soon as the sun sets." And without waiting for a reply, he turned and headed up the stairs. Looking down at Blake, Buffy complained, "Your daddy is a complicated man."

Their trip to the hospital was delayed slightly when Buffy took in the state of Spike's car. That provided the fuel for their first argument, and there was no shortage of kindling laying around.

"Just bloody shove the stuff on the floor!"

"Spike, this is disgusting. I can't have my son riding in this."

"It's MY son too, and he won't break. It's just a bit of trash."

"A BIT of trash? The back seat is like...overflowing!" They stared each other down, Buffy with determination locked tightly in place, Spike with irritation. Finally, with a snarl, Spike threw up his arms and stomped into the house, causing Buffy to relax slightly and let out a sigh of relief. Ok, he hadn't gotten all damage bound on her, this was of the good. She didn't want to admit that she was testing him, but she wasn't giving into the sliver of fear that remained where he was concerned. Ok, more than a sliver, Buffy thought, more like half a damn pie of fear.

Spike came stomping out of the house with a black trash bag and held it out to her. Huh? Fear was forgotten as Buffy realized Spike wanted HER to do it.

"Oh NO WAY!" She yelled. "I am so not cleaning all that crap out of your car!"

Spike threw a smirk in her direction. "Language, pet. Got us a impressionable child here." Spike opened up the door to the backseat and a whirlwind of trash tumbled to the ground. Rolling his eyes, he bent down and picked it up. Buffy picked Blake up, who was staring curiously at the car.

"Car messy, Dada."

Spike glared at Buffy who was in the throes of hysterical laughter at her son's comment. He realized it was just plain irritation he felt, not the complete and total rage of the demon that had plagued him for years. His girl was lucky, his demon didn't take kindly to being laughed at. Wait, his girl? Yeah, Buffy was his girl. And suddenly with that realization, his mood lightened and a smile graced his chiseled face. It was so unexpected and breathtaking at the same time, that Buffy stopped laughing.

"Yeah, I know it is, little one." He told his son, stepping over and ruffling his hair where he sat in his mother's arms. With a wink at Buffy and a quick pat on her butt that left her blinking in shock, he turned and faced the task of making room for the car seat. The Big Bad with a car seat in his car, now there was something he never thought he'd experience.

When he crawled into the backseat of the car and began tossing garbage into the bag, he finally had to admit that ok yeah, the car was a bit of a mess. He tried to recall the last time he'd emptied the thing out, and his mind was completely blank on the matter. Judging by some of the retro wrappers he was finding, it probably been quite some time ago.

Buffy left him for a minute, telling him to keep an eye on Blake, who was spectating with interest, and she went to go retrieve something from the house. Scooting herself into the passenger seat, she took out the car lighter and plugged something in.

Almost completely having filled one huge bag, Spike took the opportunity for a small break. Sniffing, his senses were flooded with a rush of rosemary, peppermint and lavender. "What in the bloody hell did you stink up my car with?"

Buffy offered him an aghast look. "Please, the car so smelled already. "

"Not answering my question. What is that?"

"It's aromatherapy."

"It's WHAT?"

"You know, aromatherapy? This is a portable one that heats the oil, thus releasing the fragrance of the oils so you can appreciate the full affect."

"Only thing I can appreciate is that it stinks and you'll do well to get it the hell out of my car."

Buffy gasped. "I will not! That....odor of 20 years of trash was giving me a headache."

Spike just glared at her, taking in her determined and set face, then suddenly found himself laughing. He tried to remember the last time he'd really laughed like this, but couldn't. Aromatherapy. Christ. What a world she lived in.

"What are you laughing at?" Buffy asked suspiciously.

"You."

"Well stop it!" Buffy demanded.

"Are you always like this?" Spike asked, grinning at her from the back seat.

"No." Buffy announced. "Well, maybe."

"Good." Spike replied, leaving her stunned. When he leaned over the front seat and pressed a quick hard kiss against her lips, she went beyond stunned. Spike sauntered out of the car to find his son already sitting in his car seat on the grass. He smiled at Blake, and picked the car seat up and turned back to the car with his precious cargo. He noticed Buffy still in the same spot with the same astonished look on her face, and felt highly pleased with himself. Not every day he managed to shake up a slayer, after all.

With Blake laughing at being given a free ride in his car seat, Spike said "Wanna show me how to put this contraption in, Buffy?"

With a mental slap, Buffy came out of her daze and assisted Spike, finally allowing them to get on their way to the hospital. The drive over was curiously pleasant for Spike, and he even allowed Buffy to keep her smelly oils plugged in. A warm feeling was working its way through him, and he didn't even try to shrug it off, because he was finally realizing that this is what he had been searching for. This little bit of paradise, this feeling of family. He had been cold and dead inside for so long. He liked this girl, oh yes. She was annoying, argumentative, maddening, confrontational, but she was also strong, loyal, warm, brave, maternal, loving and he found himself wanting to be included in her love. Again, an internal buzz sounded, the Big Bad wanting the love of a Slayer?

Without hesitation, he beat it down. Yes, the Big Bad wanted the love of the Slayer. And of the mother of his child. Spike purposely didn't include the 'love of his mate', he had already decided to not use the claim in any way. It had already served its purpose, letting him know that nobody else had laid their hands on his girl.

His reverie was soon brought to end by the ceaseless chatter of a toddler. He quickly learned that Blake expected his answers to be answered immediately. Turning to Buffy, he asked, "Do all kids his age talk this much?"

Buffy laughed. "Nope. Our boy has an advanced vocabulary for his age."

Spike nodded, and pulled out his pack of smokes. Buffy grabbed them out of his hands and he growled at her. "No smoking around him, got it?"

Heaving an exaggerated pained sigh, Spike announced, "I am still evil, you know."

Buffy was silent for a moment before replying softly, "Spike, if you were still completely evil, we wouldn't be in this car with you."

Spike pulled into a parking space at the hospital and winked at her in response. Opening his door, he got out and rescued his son from his car seat. Settling him on his hip, he went around to Buffy's side of the car and held out his free hand to her. "Ready to go see your mum?"

Buffy looked at his hand, then at his face, studying it. Finally she smiled and slid her hand into his larger cooler one, slinging the diaper bag up on to her shoulder. Hand in hand, they walked into the hospital, causing quite a few looks to be thrown in their direction. There was something just adorable about the sight of a dangerous looking black leather clad peroxide blonde man, with his son held in his arms that drew people's attention. Spike didn't appear to be aware of it, but Buffy was and it made her smile. They really were adorable, she thought, looking over at them.

Buffy's mom had moved from the Emergency room and was now in a room on the medical/surgical floor. She was awake when they came in the door, and if she was surprised to see her daughter holding hands with the vampire who had gotten her pregnant, she didn't show it. What she did have was a welcoming smile for Spike.

"Gwanma!" Blake called out excitedly, pitching forward in his excitement to get to his grandmother's side. Spike set him on the floor, and he went over to the side of the bed and smiled up at her happily.

Buffy went over and embraced her mom, eyes beginning to tear up at the thought that she had almost lost her. "How are you, mom?"

"I'm doing ok. They won't let me get any sleep, but other than that, it could be a lot worse." With that comment, Joyce directed her attention to the vampire lurking by the door. "Spike."

He took a few steps forward, finding himself oddly discomfited. "Joyce."

Joyce reached one arm out in his direction, her eyes full of gratitude. She was still groggy, but was in full control of her mental capacities, unlike earlier. Hesitating for just a moment, Spike took the remaining steps to the side of the bed to stand next to Buffy, and took hold of her hand. "Thank you." Joyce said simply, but with heartfelt meaning.

"Didn't do much."

Nodding her head, Joyce contradicted him. "Yes, you did. And I thank you."

"You're welcome." He mumbled, casting his eyes around uncomfortably, finding himself once again plagued by unfamiliar feelings.

Luckily, Buffy changed the subject by asking, "So, when do you get to go home?"


Joyce grimaced distastefully and sighed tiredly. "I'm not sure now. The orthopedic surgeon was here and said something about possible surgery. I think I'll know more tomorrow."

"Oh God! Mom!! That's horrible!!"

Joyce looked back over at Spike and asked, "Are you going to be sticking around for a while?"

tbc...

Yeah, I know, once again, I cut it off. But got things to do today, ya know?





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