Thirty-first. Taking care of business
The pain, the calm, and the astonishment,
Desire illimitable, and still content,
And all dear names men use, to cheat despair,
Rupert Brooke, The Great Lover
Romance is tempestuous.
Love is calm.
Mason Cooley, City Aphorisms, Eighth Selection
He’d called Rupert from the car, waking the old man up, with barely understood instructions to meet them at hospital. The doctor was on his way, and all Will had to do now was just keep calm and get Buffy there with a minimal amount of stress and as quickly as he humanly could.
I’m not going to panic . . . . I’m not going to panic. She’s fine, she’s gonna be fine. Nothing’s wrong. Baby’s fine and she’s fine.
Will looked over at her, curled up against his side, her legs curled up protectively. She was awake, but silent and he wondered what was going through her mind at the moment. His right hand brushed over her head, smoothing the tangles of her hair and Will felt his heart contract and his belly clench. She has to be okay. I can’t. . . . Gotta be strong. She’s fine.
The traffic lights spun in their cycles as he drove toward the hospital, the mantra repeating endlessly in his head in time to the turn of wheels.
Baby’s fine. . . . Buffy’s fine.
Giles fumbled through his apartment, barely awake and unable to clear his fuzzy head. Will’s frantic phone call had woken him from a fitful sleep and now his poor brain was struggling to catch up with his fears.
This was unfair. The poor girl deserved a break, something to go right for her, just this once. Addressing his inner comments to both himself and a god he knew existed somewhere, Rupert Giles grabbed his coat and keys and headed out into the early morning darkness.
Scooping her up, with the blanket he’d grabbed on the way out the door still wrapped around her, Will brushed a kiss on Buffy’s forehead. “It's okay, baby, we’re at hospital. The doctor’s gonna be here in a couple of minutes and Rupert’s on his way.”
“Cold, Will, I’m so cold.” She rested her head over his heart, listening to the rapid beats thumping against her ear.
“I know baby. I’ll get you inside in a minute. Just hold on.” He struggled to tuck the blanket around her and Buffy held the edges against her, fingers tangled up in his tee-shirt and the blanket.
Her softly whispered assent was all he needed to get moving toward the Emergency Room doors. Thankfully, the waiting room was empty and they were waved right through into the triage area once he’d told the on-duty nurse of the situation.
Before they knew it, Buffy’s vitals had been taken, a fetal monitor was slapped on her belly and they were waiting for the doctor. It all happened so fast that Will barely had time to get used to being in the hospital before Buffy was hooked up to every machine possible. She was lying on the gurney, the blankets covering her, curled up on her side, watching him pace through the room.
Nervous energy flooded through him and even though he rationally knew they hadn’t been waiting long, but it still felt interminable. They could hear the noise of beeps and whirrs of the different machines running in the other cubicles and the low murmur of voices, but none of it penetrated the atmosphere in their space.
“Will?” Buffy’s voice broke through his musing and he whirled around to face her. “Come sit with me please?”
In a flash he was at her side, one hand reaching for hers, the other laid gently over her head, his thumb brushing over her forehead. “Is there anything you need, kitten?”
“Just you.” She smiled at him wearily, the expression not reaching her eyes.
“I’m right here, baby, not going anywhere.” He glanced around, looking for some place to sit and finding nothing, he perched on the edge of the bed. “How’re you feeling now? Any pains?”
“No. Not even any cramping either. I don’t know what’s wrong or why. . . . I’m just tired and cold.”
“So there’s no pain anywhere, Miss Summers?”
They both jumped at the sound of the doctor’s voice, Will sliding down off the gurney and turning to face the cubicle opening. “No, no pains. And it’s Mrs. Stevenson now.”
“It is? Well then congratulations are in order.” The doctor shook Will’s hand, then scanned over the forms in his other hand. “So let me take a look at all this stuff.”
He moved over to the printouts from the fetal monitor, his eyes flicking from one beeping machine to the other. A slight smile crossed his features and he spoke without looking at either of them. “The readings all look good, but I’m going to do an ultrasound and we’ll see what’s really going on.”
Breezing into the waiting room, Rupert headed directly to the information desk, the question about Buffy on his lips. This was potentially bad and he was loathe to admit there might be the need to contact Buffy’s mother. He shied away from the action, though, knowing if he did call her, neither of the two would likely ever forgive him. And he’d just made his peace with Will and his own thoughts. He wasn’t about to throw that all away by betraying them to Joyce Summers. Besides, he had no idea if the woman even knew where her daughter was staying or what had happened the past weekend.
He’d not asked, and nor had either of them volunteered any information about the status of Buffy’s relationship with her mother, but Giles had a sneaking suspicion the woman had no idea of any of this. And he was fairly certain Buffy hadn’t seen her mother since that fateful morning when her world had seemingly collapsed around her. So he wasn’t going to be the one to force the two women into speaking to each other when it was quite obvious Buffy wasn’t asking for her mother.
Without any way to get any clear information, Giles headed for the information desk for the second time anyway.
The hospital gown was bunched up around her breasts, the blankets pushed down, barely covering her hips and there was a weird slightly bluish gel covering his new wife’s belly. The fetal heart monitor was thumping away rapidly and the doctor had some weird contraption pulled next to the bed, a flattish paddle circling over Buffy’s barely distended belly.
Will stood behind her, one of her cold hands wrapped in his; the other resting on her head, his thumb making small circles on her scalp. Every once in a while the doctor would stop and make an adjustment, his eyes fixed on the monitor, almost ignoring the other occupants of the cubicle. Without any preamble, the doctor started pointing out things, one finger on the monitor and the other hand wielding the paddle.
“Here’s the baby’s head, ears and those dark areas are the eyes.” The paddle moved a bit, and he continued, “Heart is pumping away steadily, but you can hear that. Do you want to know the baby’s sex?”
The question caught them both by surprise and Buffy glanced up at him quickly, while Will just sort of stared at the monitor. It was hard to tell, really, what was what, except when the doctor pointed it all out, but he was still mesmerized by the sight of the little tiny baby inside her. She was so tiny herself. . . . Hard to imagine another human being in there. He came back to himself when Buffy tugged on his hand, drawing his attention back to the doctor’s question.
A half smile crossed his features and his eyes held a warmth Buffy hadn’t ever seen from anyone before. He shook his head negatively, whispering, “I’ll leave that up to you kitten, whatever you want to do is fine by me.”
She thought about it for a moment, then did as he’d done, and shook her head. “I like surprises.”
The doctor did some adjusting, then chuckled. “It seems our baby here doesn’t want you to know either. Can’t get a good look, so we’ll just have to wait until the debut.”
Will cleared his throat, asking, “So how does everything look?”
“It looks like you got a bit more jostled than you should have, but otherwise everything is okay.” He put the paddle down, turned off the monitor and then started wiping the gel off Buffy’s belly. “All right, now to the serious stuff.”
The doctor headed over to the sink, washed his hands and came back. “You’ve had more than one shock to your system during the course of this pregnancy so far, and while you haven’t yet sustained any serious damage, I’m concerned. Your nutrition is down, you missed two appointments and you’ve been generally neglecting your health. This latest incident, with the dog, is more of what I’d like to think of as a wake-up call.”
Helping Buffy right herself, one eye on the doctor, Will grimaced. He had no idea she wasn’t doing what she was supposed to do. He knew about one missed visit, not the second one, and he’d known nothing about her nutritional issues. What kind of damage had she done by running away?
“I want you off your feet for two weeks, and I’m seriously advising you to take nutritional supplements, in addition to the prenatal vitamins you’re supposed to be taking daily. You have to increase your milk and cheese intake and you have to get more vegetables. No more junk food, despite the cravings.”
“Two weeks?” There was a tired whine to her voice, but other than the two word question, Buffy didn’t say anything else.
“You took a hard fall. The bleeding is just a sign that you have to take it easy and rest for a while, because the placenta is still intact. Since there’s nothing else wrong and the baby’s heartbeat is strong and steady, I’m just prescribing bed rest. And no sex for two weeks.”
“What?!” Buffy stared at the doctor, an indescribable look on her face.
Giles had told him not to worry about calling in, he would arrange for a substitute to cover his classes so they could both sleep late. It was so obvious they were both exhausted when Buffy finally had been released from emergency care that Giles couldn’t do anything else. Poor Buffy looked shell shocked, all the stress and strain of the last few months etched on her face. She hardly looked her age, fatigue written large on her features. Will wasn’t much better, and Giles had been afraid the news was very dire. Instead, it was his sense of guilt and responsibility wreaking havoc with his nephew’s equilibrium.
So that was why he was standing in front of a classroom for the first time in nearly fifteen years. The last minute substitute wasn’t qualified to teach Will’s senior lit class, so he’d stepped in to cover. He found it ridiculously ironic that his niece would have been sitting with these students – they all seemed so very young. Not that he’d had to step in – this was entirely his choice. Any substitute could have given them the lesson and assignments and just let them go, but Giles decided to cover, as sort of a silent apology to Will.
Taking this class also gave him an opportunity to speak to Willow Rosenberg, without raising anyone’s suspicions, which was something Buffy had asked him to do before they sped off home. Buffy wanted to speak with her best friend, and Giles was rapidly forming and discarding multiple scenarios of how to arrange a meeting between the two. The easiest would be to have all of them meet at his house, save for Buffy’s confinement to bed.
To hell with it. . . . no one can fault all of us and Buffy needs this.
“Miss Rosenberg? Would you stay behind a moment when we’re through?”
He’d carried her downstairs so she could watch television and then left to do some much needed shopping – both food and other supplies. They’d both slept very late, until noon and although it was much needed, Will still felt groggy and sluggish. He was also very worried about Buffy. She hadn’t said much more than a few words after they left the hospital, her mind and thoughts apparently very far away. He’d let it go then, unwilling to engage her in a deep discussion at that hour of the morning. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to let it slide. He’d let a lot of things slide in the short weeks she’d been back, but none of that mattered anymore. They were going to have to talk. Sooner rather than later. She had to start taking better care of herself, otherwise they were going to be in for a long hard time.
Loading his shopping cart, Will realized he had no idea what – other than a few choice dinner items – she really liked to eat. He knew she liked pancakes, waffles and pasta, don’t forget the cheese, but beyond that, he had no clue. It struck him then, in the middle of the supermarket, that he didn’t really know his wife. Oh, he knew her – thoughts, dreams, fears, hopes – the things she wanted. But he had no clue about the mundane things, what she liked to eat, what she liked to wear – what her favorite color was. Silly things really, when he got right down to it, since he knew all the important stuff. Because really, when it came down to it, those things weren’t important and tastes changed as one got older. He knew the essential Buffy. That was what mattered.
Hey baby, its Mommy . . . but I guess you know that, coz you can feel me. You gave me a big scare last night, and not just me. You scared the hell outta Will. . . . er. . . . I mean Daddy. He wants you to call him that. He is your Daddy though, much . . . no, not gonna mention his name, because he’s not part of our lives anymore.
Buffy ran a soft hand over her belly, smoothing the blankets and Will’s tee-shirt. You have to stay put baby, until it’s really time to come out. Mommy loves you so much and so does your Daddy and we’re a family so you have to do your part to keep us that way. Doctor says we have to stay in bed, which is so not fun, but if it’s gonna keep you safe, then Mommy is going to do it.
Shifting a bit on the couch to get a bit more comfortable, Buffy reached for the orange juice Will had left for her. Draining the glass, she dropped it on the table and briefly focused on the television. Some dumb program was on and she idly flipped the channels, not really focusing on anything. For no reason at all, tears welled up in her eyes and she tried wiping them away, but they still fell. She leaned back against the arm of the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
So I’m not really sure how to pray, was never really into church and Mom never insisted we go. Well, anyway, here’s the thing. . . . I’m asking you to please help me. Please don’t let anything happen to my baby. I’ll do anything . . . . Just keep baby safe . . .
Her words echoed through her head in an endless loop until finally her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep.
She was asleep on the couch when he got home, lying on her back, one arm flung over her head, the other hanging down toward the floor. Her mouth was opened minutely and every once in a while she’d emit a soft snore, the sound making him smile.
Deciding against disturbing her, instead Will focused on fixing their evening meal. Even though he’d promised her they would go shopping for new bedroom furniture, the doctor had been very explicit in his instructions, Buffy was to stay off her feet except for bathroom visits. Which meant unless she was willing to shop and order on-line, new furniture would have to wait . . . maybe he could convince her to look for baby furniture at the same time.
Leaving her on the couch, Will grabbed the fresh vegetables he’d bought and started to put together a meal. The steak was marinating and he was chopping carrots when the phone rang.
The front door closing, followed by the soft whisper of voices, coupled with Clem’s excited barking woke her. At first Buffy had no idea where she was, her brain fogged with disjointed and disturbing dreams, but the sound of Will trying to get Clem to be quiet gave her focus.
“C’mon you dopey mutt, quiet down or you’ll wake Buffy.”
She smiled, hearing the concern clearly and she called out softly, “It’s okay, I’m awake.”
A muffled curse reached her ears and as she struggled to sit up, she could hear his footsteps in the hallway, followed by another set.
“Hey, kitten, how’re you feeling?” He was standing in the doorway, watching her.
“Okay, I guess. A little sore and really thirsty, but better than I did before.”
He nodded, coming closer toward where she was laying on the couch. “What do you fancy to drink?”
“Did you get the juices I asked you to? Coz I could really go for some OJ.”
“I did.” He paused, looking down at her. “Feel up to some company?”
“Depends. Who you got in mind?”
“Me.”
Willow popped her head around the door, concern mixed with wary happiness and excitement on her face.
“Oh my god! Willow! Come in!”
Will stepped back as the redhead approached, an indulgent smile on his features.
“How did you get here?”
“Ah, well, Mr. Giles told me what happened last night and he thought it might be good for me to come visit. Are you okay?”
“Much better now. Will was so good to me last night. But I’m all stuck in bed Buffy so that’s not good.”
He brushed a kiss on the top of Buffy’s head and slipped from the room. Giles’ idea was brilliant, probably just what his girl needed – another bird to chatter with – and even though he knew they were all taking a huge chance, Will couldn’t deny Buffy this simple pleasure. His uncle and Jenny would be arriving soon, and Willow had taken a ridiculously circuitous route to the house, or so she claimed, and he wasn’t going to worry.
Especially not now. . . .
“Stuck in bed?”
Buffy was shaking her head. “Yup. The doctor’s really concerned this might mean more trouble, so he wants us to take extra precautions.”
“So what else do you have to do?” Willow sat down on the floor next to the couch, facing Buffy, who made a face at her question.
“Gotta take better care of myself and eat right, take my vitamins and stuff.” She fiddled with her rings, circling them around her finger, her eyes not looking at her best friend.
“Oh! Lemme see?” Willow, after catching sight of the rings, practically bounced up on her knees, reaching for Buffy’s hand. “Buffy! They’re gorgeous!”
The blond’s smile was blinding and both girls squealed a little, on a pitch that had Clem charging in from the other room, howling along with them. “So. . . . Buffy . . . Mrs. Stevenson, what’s it like being married to the hottest English teacher ever?” A sly look came over her face and she stuttered out the most pressing question on her mind. “Have you . . . what’s the . . . how’s the . . . sex?”
“Willow Rosenberg!” Buffy’s loud exclamation brought a look of fright to her friend’s features and the redhead struggled with embarrassment, trying to backtrack.
“I didn’t say that out loud. That was just a really loud thought, right? I wouldn’t ask that. No sirree. . . . Nope. Not me.”
Buffy couldn’t hold back the laughter, watching Willow’s face turn a shade of red only slightly paler than her hair. “Oh yes, you did.”
“No. Nahuh.”
“You so did. That was all you.“ Buffy leaned forward, whispering right into Willow’s very bright face, “You so asked me that. And Wills? Its really pretty freaking damn good.”
“Really?”
“Yes really, like the best.”
And it was Buffy’s turn to blush when Will stepped into the room, asking, “What’s the best?”
The gales of laughter greeting his question had Will scratching his head, until he caught the blushes covering their faces. A sly smirk bloomed across his lips and Will shook his head, deciding against making a comment. He did catch his wife’s eye and he leered at her, winking as he did. Dropping the beverages onto the table, Will beat a hasty retreat, leaving the girls on their own. He was headed back toward the kitchen when the doorbell caught his attention.
Joyce Summers stood in the doorway of her only daughter’s room, taking in the unmade bed, the dirty clothes and general disorganization that had always marked her daughter’s presence. Swallowing past the lump and fighting tears, Joyce knew Buffy’s continued silence was directly attributable to the way she’d treated her. She’d been hurtful, unwilling to give her daughter the support she’d needed. Instead, she’d hurled accusations, anger-filled and hurtful, designed to wound her only child. Was that any way to treat her?
Buffy was her flesh and blood, part of her – carried within her body for months . . . and now they were little more than strangers. And blame for that could be laid squarely on her own shoulders.
Question was – how could she possibly repair any relationship with her daughter – how was she going to make amends?
Was it even possible?
Dinner had gone well, the awkward moment when Jenny Calendar answered Buffy’s innocent question on how she’d met Giles the only unpleasant note of the entire evening. Will had frozen when Jenny told the girls, his eyes flashing quickly on his wife’s face. Luckily for him, she hadn’t given it a second thought, primarily because Jenny made a point of saying when their disastrous date had taken place. The sigh of relief had him feeling a bit lightheaded, until he caught Buffy staring at him, an enigmatic look on her face. He forced a smile, trying hard to glean some sort of signal from her, but she wasn’t flinching.
Though Jenny wasn’t aware of it, she was solidifying things in Buffy’s mind about just what Will had felt for her before they started dating – or whatever it was they were doing meeting in the cemetery almost every night.
And yet. . . . there she was sitting at their dining room table, the candlelight making her creamy skin glow, the dark lights in her hair and eyes soaking up all the light and . . . . She was so sophisticated, so worldly, so sure of herself and her allure. Buffy couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that flared through her. Will had taken Jenny out on a date, spent time and money on her and . . . . What else had they done?
“So how did you meet Will?” The words held an edge to them that made her cringe as soon as they were out of her mouth, but no one seemed to notice them, not even her husband.
“We met at the Espresso Pump, on open mike night.” Jenny smiled warmly at Will, causing a constriction around Buffy’s heart. “He’s usually the last act of the night, since he’s so popular and really good, and one night I was on just before him and well, we got to talking, waiting to go on. I kind of held him up that night, because my act ran over, but he very nicely gave up some of his own time for me. I asked him to dinner to make up for it.” A funny look crossed Jenny’s features, and she was silent for a moment. “But our only date was a complete bust. And now I know why.”
Willow scanned the table, feeling the undercurrents of some emotion she couldn’t name and without thinking, blurted out the first thing she could think of. “Why?”
“Because, long before we were finished eating, I knew somehow his mind wasn’t on me or where we were or what we were doing. He was a bit distracted.” She exchanged a glance with Rupert, who smiled indulgently at her, then continued. “He told me there was someone else he thought I should meet.”
“Oh?” This time Will did catch the edge in her voice and he stared at her, though Buffy wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“He introduced me to Rupert two days later. And I’m really very glad he did.” Rupert took hold of her hand and kissed the back of it, and the two shared a heated gaze. “We have much more in common.”
“Really?” This time it was Willow who asked the obvious question.
“Yes. I’m more interested in old, classical things. Antiques and all that.” Her teasing grin caused Giles to splutter out he wasn’t to be included in that category, but Jenny just kept that grin playing about the corners of her mouth and he finally gave in, laughing along with her to their own private joke. They others stared at them, the girls aware this was a side to Giles neither of them ever thought he had, and so were caught unaware when Jenny finished her story.
“Besides, Will was so obviously missing some . . . one that I knew he wasn’t thinking about me at all.”
Willow barely squeaked out another question, her eyes darting between the adults and their openly flirtatious behavior. “He was?”
Jenny laughed, a deep throaty kind of laugh, and she smiled, leaning forward, her voice in a loud conspiratory whisper. “He was thinking about someone completely unlike me. I wasn’t even a poor substitute.” She snuck a glance up at the man in question from beneath her dark eyelashes and spoke again. “I think he had a blond on his mind.”
Buffy stared at her, unsure of why Jenny was being so obvious about it, when she peeked over at her husband. His eyes weren’t on Jenny at all, they were staring into her own, a smile playing about his lips. Before anyone else had a chance to speak, Will opened his mouth. “I can admit it now, my mind wasn’t on you at all that night. Too busy thinking about someone I thought was beyond my grasp. Someone I couldn’t and shouldn’t have been thinking ‘bout at all.” His eyes held Buffy’s, the rest of the room receding from her awareness and she felt his love reach out to her from across the table. “Kept wishing it was her sitting with me. . . . Couldn’t get her out of my mind, not for one bloody minute. And I got my wish. Got what I wanted. She’s with me now.”
With that he reached across the table and grabbed for her hand, everything he felt for her blazing in his eyes.
corry about the delays, I'll try and do better from now on. . . please leave a review