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Buffy sat impatiently in the waiting room. She had made the mistake of showing up 20 minutes early. Rummaging through the large stack of outdated magazines, she checked her watch every half minute.

The first time I am early for something and they make me wait. I have saved these doctors from a lot of work over the years. They would be swimming in vamp attacks and demon mutilations if not for my nightly patrols. When they are able to go home on time and kiss their spouses and play with their kids its because of me. And if they knew that I’m sure they would care. But they don’t. And never will.

Buffy picked up a magazine with a headline that read: Tom and Nicole are calling it quits!

Amy would love these. A great way to catch up on all the celebrity gossip of the last three years. Of course, that former rat turned magic junkie is far more interested in spending time at Rack’s. How did she go from baking cookies with her dad to the walking mess she is now? I could ask the same question about Willow. Old Reliable, getting Dawn into a car accident.

At least my descent into badness only got Spike hurt, she thought, remembering the job she had done on his face in front of the police station. It was really decent of him to lie about how he had gotten injured. How would I have explained away pummeling him senseless? How can I explain anything I’ve been doing with him these last few months?

The receptionist whom Buffy had spoken to on the telephone was sitting behind the circulation desk, answering calls while simultaneously filing her nails. Buffy was impressed at her ability to multi-task. Lately, she had been having trouble concentrating on anything.

Five minutes later, as the slayer noticed that her appointment was supposed to have started already, she felt only contempt for the annoyingly bubbly woman. Every time Buffy inquired about what was taking so long, the lady gave her a rehearsed line about patience being a virtue.

Buffy willed the doctor to finish whatever he was doing and come to her aid. She knew it was wrong. The physical condition she had gotten herself into was not an emergency. At least not a dire one. There were probably people dying at this very moment--some from attacks from various creatures of evil--and she felt as if she should chastise herself for wanting to monopolize the doctor’s time with confirmations of her pregnancy. As well as feeling ashamed that she didn’t feel guilty with the knowledge that she would be forgoing patrol in a few months. She used to feel pride at being able to help people, save lives. Her capacity to care for total strangers had been regarded as one of her greatest traits. She hated herself for feeling empty.

“My emotions give me power. They’re total assets.”

“I touch the fire and it freezes me. I look into it and its black. Why can’t I feel? My skin should crack and peel. I want the fire back.”

Is it natural to feel so void? Is this what I’m going to pass onto my child? Apathy for the human race.

“The only time I feel anything is when….”

Suddenly, a balding, middle-aged man with a severe laceration across his chest was wheeled past her on a gurney. As she watched two female paramedics hand him over to the resident physicians, she remembered all of the times she had been in this very same hospital, for her own injuries as well as for those of her loved ones. She tried hard not to think about her mother’s death. The morgue.

“Buffy Summers. The doctor will see you now.”

She leaped out of her seat. It took her roughly three steps to reach the circulation desk where a man in a white jacket waited with a clipboard. She followed him as he ushered her into an empty hospital room. He handed her a hospital gown and instructed her to get changed behind a partition. He had her sit down on what appeared to be a bed with white paper pulled across it. She felt like she was going to be bound and sold to be eaten alive.

Why did they make me watch that video at the Double meat Palace? Why on earth would you need to show your prospective employees footage of a cow and a chicken being butchered, minced, and sautéed? The restaurant is still trying to pass that place off as a carnivore’s wet dream when in actuality it is mainly soy with a small dash of dead animal for seasoning. After seeing that video I would’ve given up meat entirely if not for that smell. Ingesting that stuff has done wonders for slaying though, it is a great vampire repellent.

“God slayer, is that you?”

“I’ve been working.”

“Where, the slaughterhouse?”

“Double meat Palace.”

“….If you’ve been eating there I’m not so sure I want to bite you.”

When vampires are refusing to sink their teeth into you because of how putrid you stink then you know something needs to change. Even Riley had noticed the smell. How can vegetarians stand tofu? It tastes tolerable but the odor is revolting. Well, there is always fruit and vegetables. And--

What am I doing? I am here to find out if my world has changed forever. Stop thinking about food.

“So Mrs. Summers”, he asked politely. “How are you feeling today?”

He was clueless how much he had just hurt her. In her mind, the name Mrs. Summers would always refer to her mom.

“Mrs. Summers?”

“It’s Buffy.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“My name. It’s Buffy.”

“I apologize. Many of my patients prefer it when I address them properly.”

“Its Buffy”, she repeated emphatically.

“So you are here to find out if you are expecting, is that correct?”

“Yes, and I’m not married.”

He gave her a quizzical look.

“Just thought that I’d clarify. I’m a single mom”

“Do you have any reason to suggest you might be with child?”

Buffy gave him a dirty look. Would I be here if I didn’t have reason to think I was “with child”? And who says phrases like that anymore? Say pregnant. Knocked up. It is 2002 not 1960.

“Well, for starters all of the home pregnancy tests were positive.”

“I see. Anything else?”

“Well, I don’t get sick that often and lately I’ve been vomiting a lot. But mostly, I guess you could say woman’s intuition.”

“Well, I believe in science. So if you’ll please follow me over here....”





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