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23. Arrangements

Buffy looks at the toddler that Angel holds in his arms beneath the boardwalk and her fingers move across the red silk fabric covering her flat belly. Down the beach the waves grow more violent and the clouds grow dark. A storm is coming. She turns back to Spike with fear and worry in her eyes. The wind has picked up and Buffy’s hair is spiraling fiercely around her.

“Where’s my baby?” Buffy asks him, her breath visible in the cold night air.

Spike doesn’t answer.

He steps closer to her and brings his hand up to run along her cheekbone. Buffy closes her eyes feeling his icy skin upon hers, and then he leans in and kisses her. His soft, cold lips are comforting and Buffy falls into him letting the feeling of his lips on hers take her away from her thoughts. She wraps her arms around his neck and her eyes close. She kisses him back with passion, leaning forward to stand on her tippy toes to better reach him. Her fingers play with the baby hairs at the back of his neck, his run through her hair.

Then they part and Buffy’s eyes flutter open. She’s looking into the turbulent blue depths of Spike’s eyes, but in the periphery of her vision there is something else. Small and shiny specks flutter in the distance. Buffy looks around and finds that it’s snowing. Soft white flakes slowly fall from the heavens and start to cover the sand turning everything white. A shiver runs down Buffy’s spine. It’s suddenly freezing cold.

Buffy’s eyes pop open, she breathes deep as if she were drowning and just came up for air. Waking from this dream was like breaking the surface of the sea and finally being able to breathe again. Quickly she sits up and looks around wildly as if forgetting where she is. The dreams have gotten more and more real every time, but for sure this dream was the most real of them all. The feeling of Spike’s fingers on her skin, the feeling of his lips against hers, the chill in the air, it was all too real. She runs her hands through her hair and sighs. It’s all getting too close. All Buffy can think is that she needs more time.

Buffy lies back down and curls up against Spike’s lifeless form. She rests her head on his chest and closes her eyes trying to pretend that he’s really there with her. She pretends that he’s running his fingers through her hair, or kissing her forehead, or even doing something so simple as breathing in his sleep - as if he were dreaming of being alive. She imagines it so well that she thinks she can actually feel his chest rise and fall, actually hear him sigh; and then Buffy’s eyes pop open. She holds her breath and lies as still as possible and then she feels it again. The slight lifting of his chest, the rise and fall of his breath, the subtle sigh through his lips, she sits up and looks down at him, and she sees his eyes twitch beneath their shut lids.

For a moment she worries that she’s hallucinating, that her desire to have him here with her is causing her to see things. But then he moves again, just a twitch, but it was there.

“Spike,” Buffy says her voice an astonished whisper.

His eyes twitch again.

“Spike,” she says again a little louder, and now her hand is on his chest needing to touch him. She feels him move, just slightly, a tremor of a waking dream. And then his eyes open.

Buffy feels her breath catch in her throat as she stares down at his bright blue eyes. They look at her with astonishment, with longing and need as he tries to take in every line of her face. He seems to be trying to convince himself of what he’s seeing.

“Buffy,” he says in a whisper and Buffy finds her eyes watering.

He reaches out for her and as his fingers reach her face his eyes tear up. He thinks about looking down to her belly but can’t bring himself to do it. An image of Holtz swinging his axe at her flashes into his mind and Spike turns his head and looks away from her fearful of what he might see if he looks at her for too long.

“Spike, what’s wrong,” Buffy says with worry in her voice. She wonders if he remembers her, if he remembers anything, if the chip truly did destroy his brain.

“I can’t… I know I was too late, I just, I can’t see you without, can’t knowing that she’s gone.”

Through his jumbled speech Buffy realizes that Spike thinks Holtz killed their baby.

“Spike, please, look at me.”

“Buffy, please I can’t.”

She grabs his hand then and he’s glad to feel her fingers entwining around his. Then she brings their tangled hands closer to her body and sets his hand upon her round belly. She feels him palming her stomach, hears him sigh, and then slowly he turns to look at her. His eyes are still filled with worry as they land on her and then she can see as relief floods through him, relief and awe.

“I’m a fortress of protection; nothing can get through to this little girl.” Buffy says. She keeps to herself though that that means not even birth will allow her daughter to meet this world. This pregnancy can’t end until one of them is dead.

Spike is sitting up in seconds bringing his other hand to join the one that rests on her belly. She’s gotten so big. Spike finds a hard time even processing the life that he holds in his hands. He feels her stretch, his daughter, pressing a hand out to touch his. Some alien arm trying to break through the barrier of Buffy’s flesh. It’s a strange feeling, but a wonderful one all the same. Thousands of thoughts are running through his head, relief, fear, astonishment; all of them a jumbled mess making him want to laugh and cry at the same time. Her tiny fingers reach to his once again and he feels them making ripples in Buffy’s skin. Spike smiles.

“She’s okay,” Spike says.

“It’s our job to protect her.”

“Till the end of the world.”

--

Cordelia walks into the living room to see Angel sitting on the sofa staring pensively at the bassinette which contains his sleeping son. He’s lost so deep in thought that he doesn’t notice her enter. She walks over to him expecting him to realize she’s there, but he doesn’t.

“Hello,” Cordy says waving her hand in front of his face.

Angel snaps to attention.“Sorry, hi, I was just…”

“Thinking, yeah guessed that. What’s on your mind big guy?”

“The future,” Angel looks back to the bassinette. “He’s gonna need clothes, toys, weekly allowance. What's good nowadays? Fifty cents? A dollar?”

Cordy laughs.“Yeah, if you're Tom Sawyer painting a fence.”

“See, I’m so outta touch.”

Cordelia sits down next to him on the sofa. “Don’t worry, you have time.”

“Do I though? It all goes by so fast, what if I let it get away from me,” he’s locked his eyes on hers now. “Let it slip through my hands and then realize one day that I didn’t do something when I had the chance and then it’s gone?” He’s looking into her deeply, his brow creased, eyes searching hers.

“We’re not talking about Connor anymore are we?”

“No,” Angel sighs. “Cordy, look I have something I need to…”

“Angel stop.”

Her eyes flutter and Angel feels a pain in his chest, worry. She brings her hand up to his face and strokes his cheekbone then her eyes lock on his again and she leans in. They kiss with a thrill of excitement rushing through them. Angel brings his hand to run up her back and pulls her closer to him. They both feel overjoyed finally feeling one another in the way they’ve started to crave being together. The release of pent up tension makes them both smile into their kiss and they part. Cordelia sighs. As she pulls away Angel can see the large grin that crosses her face.

“Angel I love you, and I mean really love you, in love with you, I think I have been for a long time and maybe on some level I’ve always known, but I just wouldn’t let myself know, ya know.” Cordy takes a breath, Angel finds himself speechless. “I’m scared right now, but I know it’s right, I know somehow that it’s going to be alright.”

Angel nods. “I know what you mean… I… Cordelia, I feel the same way.”

She smiles.“So what now?”

“I’m not sure, it’s been a while since I’ve been in this situation,” Angel says with a laugh.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

“So, that’s it, we’re really gonna give this thing a go?” He asks, his eyes searching hers.

“Unless you’re having second thoughts already?” She says with a laugh.

“No, not at all.”

“Well good, cause I think we’ve been moving in this direction for some time already. There’s no turning back now.”

He smiles at her and his eyes flutter down to her lips.

“Hey,” Buffy says as she enters the living room startling its occupants.

Both Cordelia and Angel turn to face her, their moment broken. They see her looking as if she actually has a glow about her for the first time in days and then they see the reason why. Spike stands behind her; his hair is a tousled pile of white curls, his body still regrouping.

“Spike,” Angel says surprised. Part of him had wondered if Spike was truly done for, thought that maybe one day his vampire body would realize that his brain was un-reparable and he would just dissolve into dust right there in Buffy’s bed. But here he is. For a moment Angel thinks that it would be just like Spike to not let even possible dusting keep him down. He was, if nothing else, resilient.

“How are you?” Cordelia asks, “I mean, your brain didn’t get melted into mush and make you forget who we all are and make you want to kill us did it?”

“Ah, no… had a bit of a headache when I woke, but otherwise I’m feeling right as rain.”

“Good,” Angel says as if trying to convince himself of it.

For a moment all four of them stand speechlessly and an uncomfortable silence overcomes the room.

“Well, I’m going to get a nip of blood, ‘m feeling a bit peckish,” Spike says then walks toward the kitchen. Buffy watches him go then turns back to Angel and Cordy.

The glow around her seems to darken and her expression turns serious. “Don’t tell him,” she says looking straight at Angel then she turns and follows after Spike.





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