Hello All!
Sorry this one took so long but it is nice long juicy chapter with new characters and Spuff smutty fun! This one took forever to write that I actually wrote the next few bits before I finished it. Stay with me now because the next few chapters will be coming up soon.
>Petra
Chapter Twenty-Three – Call the Midwife
The trip home was torturous.
All she could think about was Spike and his face when she told him to show her just how good a vampire bite could be. The look on his face while he drank from her would stay with her for the rest of her life. That worship, that wonder, she hadn't felt anything like that since Spike had been her Willow sponsored Fiance. Part of her, a very quest part had been angry because of how good it felt to have someone look at her like that.
And that was just when she told him. Everything that came after, Buffy was trying so hard to imprint every memory in her brain she was almost resentful of the pleasure he was giving her. There had been a split second after her blood hit his tongue, a moment when he had looked up at her, his golden eyes unconsciously drawn to her face. Her world stopped and she wished she could live forever in that second, that second split between drowning in the unguarded awe in his eyes and the sensation so indescribable she felt like she had shattered into a thousand tiny pieces all flying apart with the force of her orgasm.
Holy shit.
And now, the bite mark was tender. She thought it would hurt but it didn’t. The opposite in fact, any light brush against it sent a jolt of good through her so intense she had to bite back a whimper every time. Needless to say, her panties were soaked.
Everything felt electric, her muscles felt good and raw. Her blood was pumping from the carnage, his bite mark aching to be touched. She had never been so horny in her life.
And Spike, the fucker, knew it. He kept looking at her with his blue eyes, all dark and stormy and it was just way too easy to flash back to those eyes when they were golden and boring into hers just before he shoved his tongue into her so hard her hips had shot straight up off the ground.
“Buffy?”
Raj was trying to get her attention. He had an idea for what to do with the front room. Buffy couldn’t make herself concentrate on what he was saying. Thankfully, The train jolted unexpectedly sending her flying right into Spike.
Dammit, lack of concentration!
Arms of Spike. She was suddenly hit with a wave of Spike smell. Leather, cigarettes and that note underneath that was tart and sweet at the same time. It was intoxicating. Why was it suddenly intoxicating? Had it always been this intoxicating?
He held her for just a minute too long before setting her at rights. He let his fingers just brush his mark over her skirt. Buffy’s mouth went dry. She had thought her leg pressing against the mark was good, Spike touching it slammed her back in time. She could feel the grass beneath her, cool against her over-heated body as Spike drawing it out of her--blood and climax and possibly her soul. His fingers made her feel so many things at once that she was sure she had been levitating.
She almost came right then and there.
As it was, her inner walls clenched and she felt every nerve-ending in her body tingle. She held onto the pole with both hands, as it suddenly was all she could do not to throw down and ride Spike into oblivion right here on the Victoria line.
They had taken a roundabout way back to No. 9. By the time they crossed the threshold Buffy could barely restrain herself. Thankfully, both Raj and Alex made themselves scarce. She had completely forgotten that they were there.
Alex gave them both a scathing, long-suffering look before she headed upstairs. Buffy heard a tell-tale blast of loud music coming from her room before the door was slammed.
Buffy had barely turned around to face him before his lips were on hers, her hands were in his hair and she felt complete again.
“God, I could smell how much you wanted me, baby, do you know how hard it was not just take you away and fuck you into the bloody ground?” He murmured in her ear.
Her legs were around his waist one hand held her in place, the other slid sensually against his mark.
“What-why-so good.”
Spike’s smile was cocky. “Told you it could be good.” He slipped his hand between her legs. “So wet for me already. God, Summers, you are going to be the death of me.”
They stumbled towards to stairs, unable to hold off even until they reached Spike’s bedroom. Spike made it two steps before Buffy bit down on his shoulder and Spike, slayer of slayers, Master Vampire of the Aurealian line, tripped. He only just managed to turn so Buffy fell on a heap on top of him.
“Fuck, I—g-Buffy?”
Out of her mind with lust, nothing was registering in Buffy’s fevered brain beyond: horizontal now.
She had decided not too long ago she was going to do something they hadn’t tried yet. While Spike was still registering the fact that they were on the stairs Buffy had slithered down between his legs, Pulled out his cock and took it into her mouth.
The look on his face went from surprise to utter worship.
Buffy had never loved doing this, she had not had much practice. She had tried with Parker but that had turned out so badly that she had been too discouraged to ever bring it up with Riley. And she had never had the opportunity to do this with Angel, but then he had been incredibly restrained throughout their time together, their one time together, he had barely even moaned. But Spike was so open with how good she felt. His hands massaged her scalp, desperate to be touching her, murmuring suggestions, and just making strained helpless whimpers.
God, it was hot to hear Spike, a being she had seen decapitate a vamp with his bare hands a few hours ago melt under her ministrations like so much butter.
“Buffy!” he cried helplessly. “Darling, Oh Fuck, Sweetheart, just like that!”
She relaxed her throat muscles and was able to take him all the way in. His hips bucked up into her mouth. Spike was moaning encouragement, so carried away that he wasn’t aware just how little sense he was making. It was all coming out in disjointed words and noises. She bobbed up and down on his cock, holding his hips down as she went, feeling the straining muscles of his stomach under her hand.
“So…fucking beautiful… perfect.”
At his half coherent suggestions, she reach under his cock with her other hand to play with his balls.
“Gahhh!”
Buffy pulled him all the way out of her mouth she teased his head mercilessly all the while enjoying Spike’s incoherent begging.
“God, Close—going to—Buffy—”
She took him all the way in a few more times, swallowing around him like she had read about. She could feel him stiffen under her. He had tried to warn her but she was surprised to realize she didn’t need him to, she was in control here. She swallowed around him again and hummed.
Spike came so hard he couldn’t even cry out. He arched upward, his mouth fell open in a soundless scream. Buffy watched him fascinated. Every muscle in his body went taut. She swallowed him down, not letting off until he was slack beneath her.
“We didn’t make it to your room.” She informed him as she made her way up the stairs to lay against him.
“Can’t—pet, I—sentences.”
For once she got what those stupid romance novels talked about. Spike, a vampire for over a century, brought to his knees desperate and begging for her. There was something oddly empowering about it.
He lay there boneless for a little while, Buffy propped her head up on her hand to watch him. He lay there his eyes closed in utter contentment. He looked boyish and sweet almost, his harsh edges softened over by the contented smile and the golden curls he tried so hard to hide. Buffy reached out to gently tousle those curls when her hand was caught in a vice like grip. A single blue eye opened and met hers, it was stormy and dark with lust.
“Already?”
With a fierce growl he picked her up like she weighed nothing at all and made for his room.
****
Spike woke in the small hours in the morning, there was a faint noise from outside. He untangled himself from Buffy’s arms despite her half-asleep protests.
Before this whole ordeal if someone were to tell him that he would willingly extract himself from Buffy’s bed he would have laughed in their face--being in her bed for one thing, all the rest, he still didn’t know how to think about that. His life was split into two, before and after Genesis the same way it hand been split into his life and his un-life. Neither resembled what came before even remotely.
He could hear the soft treads on the stairs so he grabbed a shirt and a pair of drawstring pants before heading down himself. The first few times he heard the rustling from outside his door he had been on high alert, but quickly realized that the sounds were muffled and faint even with his sensitive vampiric hearing.
There was only one person it could be.
Alexis was already sitting at the fancy new kitchen table Buffy and Raj had just installed. She was swimming in a large knitted sweater. Her hair hung down around her shoulders, a few shades darker than his own. He had been a little disappointed when she had come back with darker hair instead of the crazy fire engine red that--he'd like to think--was a tribute to his own signature bleached blond. He knew it was wise seeing as how they had to lay low, and while he didn’t miss the actual bleaching process, he did miss the impression it made.
He studied her for a moment, even naturally she looked nothing like his baby sister Alix. Alix favored his mother, ash blond and dainty. She had been a traditional English miss, tall and sweet and softspoken. Nothing like Alexis who was tiny, powerfully made, but beyond, that there was an aura about her, and edge to her that read slayer to anyone paying even a little attention. Even when she was just sitting at a table reading a battered paperback book.
It still stunned him that some version of Buffy had cared for him, loved him enough to name her only child after someone he cared about. And here was this girlchild, looking back at him with his own eyes.
“Harper Lee? They have you reading American literature? Some school that is.”
“It’s not for school.” she said. “I just like it. Found a copy in a bin at Kitty Corner Books. I find it…. comforting. Have you read it?”
Spike nodded. The first night he had discovered her in the kitchen she had been reading Charles Dickens and trying to make Swiss Miss in a sauce pan.
The Swiss Miss was watery swill but Dickens had been a particular favorite of Spike’s. The vampire had always enjoyed the poetic justice in his books, so they sat and they talked about Nicholas Nickleby. She asked him about boarding schools and Victorian era punishments and ended the night trying to figure out how to work the coffee machine until Raj, up for work, entered the kitchen and had to teach them before they blew something up.
They then proceeded to Oliver Twist. Spike didn’t even broach the subject of her insomnia until a fortnight later when it happened two days in the row. She was having nightmares.
“I read it when it first came out.” he said.
She raised her eyebrows, “You keep saying shit about being the Scourge of Europe, and all you ever do is brag about being bad, and you’re telling me you spent your days sitting in your evil lair or whatever reading about racism and discrimination in rural Alabama?”
Spike smiled ruefully.
“No, sometimes it was reading Hayim Bialik while duck-footing with the gestapo.”
“Rebel.”
Spike studied her for a moment and then decided that he had done enough dancing around it.
“Was it the same dream?”
Alex paused. She was already ready with the next quip but he had thrown her off balance.
She shrugged and looked away, “It’s not so much a dream as the feeling that comes with waking up, cold sweat, the whole shebang.”
One would think that reserves of hate have to end somewhere, that at some point it has to be too much. Spike knew something about too much to handle, he spent his formative years with Angelus, after all. But he hated Genesis even more than he hated that wanker, he had thought that it was all encompassing and that he could not hate anything more than he hated this, and then he found out his daughter was having nightmares about what they had done to her. And he bloody well found more space.
He wanted to know what her dreams where, he remembered his vividly enough, but she wouldn’t tell him even if he pressed, this one would have to be coaxed. So instead he asked:
“Cocoa?”
A century of vampirism had not prepared him to prepare a meal of any sort; and before that he was a gentleman and was, therefore, unwelcome in the kitchen. But Spike was nothing if not a fast learner and these late nights had awoken old half-forgotten memories of nannies and hot chocolate.
“Uh-huh.”
It didn’t happen every night like his and Buffy’s nightmares, there were good days where she wouldn’t make a peep, But it happened enough that they kept her up through a box of that powdered swill. As soon as he put it in the trash Spike decided he was going to get some of that good stuff.
Spike turned to watch the girl, this little changeling creature in front of him.
She had gone back to her book. She was a little thing, but then he was not the tallest and Buffy was a lot of slayer in a small package. Despite her stature she had large, laser-blue eyes that seemed to miss nothing. More than ever it struck him just how alike they looked. Every time he thought that she couldn’t do anything to look more like him she would open her mouth and Buffy’s voice would pop out.
“Looking forward to chocolatey goodness.” She said. “Where is this one from?”
Spike checked the tin.
“Nicaragua.” He answered. “got it yesterday.”
“Marshmallows?”
He showed her the bag, warming embarassingly at her excited smile.
“‘M not that evil.”
Spike had been fixing the pan full of milk in which he was dissolving the chocolate with a little sugar. He smiled at her request remembering when he had made a similar request of Joyce a few years ago. In his other un-life.
While he puttered around he felt her eyes on him.
“Where do you get the money?” she asked.
“Money?”
“the House, the bills?” she nodded towards the tin of chocolate. “the single-origin chocolate beans? Fancy-shmancy and from Harrods, right?”
“Where’s this coming from?" He asked thoughtfully tasting the chocolate to decide if it needed more milk. It did. He added a little more. "You worried it’s coming from hapless victims?”
Alex arched an eyebrow. “because you’re out all night having headaches at them? please. I’ve just always been curious about it. How to vamps do taxes? Or get driver’s licenses? Everything's coming up databases, and records so how do vamps get by the whole born, died, legal whatsamawhota? Or do all of you just live off the grid?”
Spike just stared at her for disapprovingly.
“What? worried it will ruin the mystique?”
“No. Wondering what sort of hell you grew up in that drove you to create 'whatsamawhota' and then say it all straight-like.”
She smirked and folded her arms across her chest.
“All the greats made up words.” She said simply. “Was the whatsamawhota way easier in the middle ages when you were still a fledgling?”
Spike short her an amused look but didn’t rise to the bait.
“Computers’ve made it more complicated. S’not just about bribes and forgetful solicitors. But the long and short of it is, had most of the dosh already,” he said. “Didn’t have much need of it while I was-er—travelling with Dru,” He eyed her carefully but her expression didn’t change. “So it just stayed with the bank, under my family name. S’not the same here as it is in the States, there are all sorts of ways of keeping things discreet under entail laws. Especially here in England where the first son gets everything. And Bromley is a meticulous bugger so he took care of pretty much everything. ”
“You weren’t the first son though.”
“First son and only surviving son are the same thing, bit.”
“Right… sorry.” she looked awkwardly down at her book and marked the page where she left off. “Bromley’s still around then?”
“Well, he was squatting in the carriage house for a bit, went off to Camden somewhere once Raj moved in. He waits until you and Buffy aren’t around to slay him and pops in to update me on his activities.”
“People he’s killing?”
Spike rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Where do you think I keep getting bagged blood?”
“Wow, he’s lazy as shit isn’t he?”
Spike shrugged. “Nope, Not all vamps are trying to get gold star of evil like ol’ grandpappy and I think Bromley’s never been overfond of gore. Gets on his cuffs and collars.”
“Harmless, finicky, vampire minion--weirdly useful. Good call on that one.”
Spike nodded and tapped his nose. “‘M nothing if not a good judge of character.”
The chocolate was dissolving well. He stirred absently as he thought about Bromley, thought about that night when he said to take care of the house. He had never told Dru he had kept it, and when he met Angelus it became clear he never could. It was just the thing that wanker would be all over. And truth be told he had been keeping the house around mostly for its memory, but it was nice over the years to know it was there, waiting for him when he really needed it.
He snapped himself out of his reverie, the chocolate was smooth. This was always a tricky business, knowing when it was done, but Spike decided sooner rather than later so he doled it out into two overlarge mugs. They were new--two large American monstrosities that looked more like bowls. They were nothing like the delicate porcelain he was accustomed to--or had been and had become accustomed to again. Buffy must have found them somewhere. She was always sashaying out in the sun returning home with odds and ends. He brought them over and sat across from Alex.
“School alright?” He asked. “Buffy said something about mean girls.”
“No, nothing I can’t handle anyway. Work-wise though it is redundant and I could be so much more of a help around here.”
Spike didn’t acknowledge her hopeful prod and instead waited for her to continue.
She stalled by taking a sip of her cocoa. “Hello Nicaragua, this is way better than that Colombian stuff you got last week.”
Spike arched an eyebrow he wondered why she was being evasive about school. Sod that. If he wasn’t going to be able to ask her about her nightmares he could ask about school.
“The chit at the counter said something about caramel notes. So, that was a yes on trouble in school then?”
Alex looked a little exasperated that he wasn’t taking the hint that she didn’t want to talk about it.
“I grew up at the Slayer Academy it’s a bit different, and Holland House is all about petty competitive baloney. All fight and no fun.” She said after a prolonged pause. “I never thought I’d describe the Academy as fun. There was a lot of line-of-fire bonding going on.”
Spike frowned at that but Alex shrugged it off.
“I guess the unity and mutual respect that comes with demon hunting is what I’m missing. All that adventure does something.” she said. “Holland’s got none of the camaraderie that comes from apocalypses.” she smirked at him over her cup before adding: “Multiple.”
Spike drank from his own cup.
“No need to brag, bit,”
“Only a little bit of one.”
“It ain’t nothing but a family thing, bit.”
“It just feels stupid to whine about high school sucking.” She said. “I’m not dead and or in a place that could make me dead, I can handle anything the Middleclones throw at me.”
At his look of bewilderment she smiled a little.
“Spoilers.”
“So you’re sure you don’t want me to eat any of them?”
“I’ll get back to you.”
“Right, human, chip, I forgot.”
Alex smirked. “No, I’ll get back to you. I’m sure at least one of them has to be some sort of demon. Last week one girl, Poppy, threw a fit because the parking wardens had impounded her Maserati and she would have to go fetch it from south of the Thames. And she didn’t know how to even go about that. And to comfort her another girl, Jossy, offered to have her chauffeur take care of it because it was his half day and it was going to be in Brixton anyway." She took a sip of her chocolate. "And then she had the warden deported.”
“And they say I’m evil.” Spike chuckled. “Someone had a child and named it Jossy? It boggles the mind.”
“Do you see now why I never tell you anything?”
“So this is where everyone is.”
They both looked up, surprised to hear another voice. Both were standing in fighting stance in the time it took for the speaker to finish their sentence.
She was standing in the doorway wearing his old silk dressing gown and carrying a lethal looking axe.
When she was like this, it was impossible for him to tear his eyes away from her. She was fierce and powerful and somehow gorgeous whenever she wasn’t trying. Even with her hair rumpled from sleep it tumbled down around her shoulders in ways that made him want to run his hands through it, her face was unguarded, like for once the weight of the world wasn't on her shoulders. She was radiant.
He tried, valiantly, not to think of her as his. But it was unavoidable.
Something in him, a long forgotten politeness perhaps, made him open a chair for her. He wanted, desperately to reach out to her, trail a hand casually about her shoulders, but he stopped himself. He wasn't sure how she would react and he was worried doing so might snap her out of the wonderful little shag bubble they were in.
“I woke up and you were gone.” She said to him snapping him out of his reverie.
“Sorry, pet.”
“No big.” she said as she dropped the axe casually into the umbrella holder and joined them at the table. She slid into the chair without comment. “And there were voices down here. What’s going on? pyjama party? Why are you guys up so late? or--” she glanced at the clock. 4:38 AM. “So early?”
“Vampire.” Spike said at the same time Alex said: “half-vampire.”
Buffy’s eyebrows shot up at the likeness. Spike tried not to look to pleased, Alex rolled her eyes at him. Buffy took advantage of his distraction to grab his hot chocolate.
“Hey!” the vampire protested weakly.
Alex handed him hers and he shot Buffy a dirty look. Buffy gloated for about a half second until she tasted the contents of the mug. Her whole face changed and she looked down at it in awe.
“This is amazing where the hell did this come from?”
“Nicaragua.” Alex answered matter-of-factly.
The look on the slayer’s face was enough to make Alex snigger, which triggered a few chuckles from Spike which set Alex off into a full blown belly laugh.
“What?”
That seemed to make them laugh harder though neither of them knew why. There was something about the small hours of the morning, the encompassing silence that makes little things seem absurd, things that would never have been funny in the daylight. Spike had always secretly loved this time of day, when it was only him awake. In his other life, this was his favorite time to read, or hunt or just walk the streets.
“You guys okay? Is there something stronger in there?”
“It’s—just—your face, pet.” Spike tried to calm down but it didn’t seem to be working.
The moment had passed and the mirth was subsiding and Alex finished with a few stray giggles.
“I just--I can’t--” and it hit them then that nothing was really funny, nothing that could be replicated anyway.”
“Where did this stuff even come from?”
“We went through some of that swiss swill in that box with that chit on the front.” Spike said yanking his mug from Buffy’s hands and glancing down at his own share un-surprised to see it vastly depleted.
“And the Colombian stuff.”
“Little bitter, that was.”
“This is better.” the damphyr agreed. “African origin next time?”
They clinked mugs and both took a quick drink.
“You two sound like you’re talking about drugs.”
“Spike’s been buying fancy chocolate from Twinings.” Alex explained setting down her mug. “I told him about origin coffee they do the same thing for chocolate.”
“So sorta talking about drugs.” Buffy replied sliding her seat closer to Spike. “Is there any more?”
Her tiny movement didn't escape the vampire, and he fought to keep the gooey smile from spreading across his face. He wordlessly handed his mug to her, lingering just a ttad longer than he had to and letting his fingers brish her hand. She smiled at him shyly and turned her attention to Alex.
“So why are you up?” Buffy said settling into the chair and taking a sip.
“Right, pray tell, nibblet.”
Alex had not missed the exchange, because of course she hadn't, but she didn't comment. She did hesitate before answering, clearly weighing her options and deciding how to respond to the question.
“It’s nightmares.” she said and seeing the hackles rise in both the supernatural beings in front of her she quickly added. “Don’t freak out. It’s not every night and I’m getting better and being back here and going to school is making things better!”
Spike was watching his slayer. He saw the warm aura of Buffy disappear the instant Alex mentioned any trouble.
“You’re having nightmares?”
“Not every night.” Alex muttered suddenly embarrassed. “and not like you guys.” off their looks she sighed. “Raj told me about them. But I don’t even remember mine, sometimes I just wake up in a cold sweat and I don’t want to go back to sleep for a while. And usually it’s late enough that it can just chill a little before school. But it’s not that often.”
“At least enough to go through six swiss miss packets and however much Colombian chocolate.” Buffy observed. “Lex, I’ve been through this. The contents of your dream could be really important. Like this one time I was dreaming about lizards with weird poisonous breath going Godzilla on Sunnydale and we thought it might be a slayer dream. I had to write everything down! Any detail can be important.”
Alex was suddenly very interested in her coffee mug. “It’s not a big deal, its just waking up back there, sensors attached to my head while they slowly made the room go from very, very cold to very, very hot. Making lacerations on my arm to see if they heal faster than ones on my back, that kind of thing. And also the food.” she shuddered. “Not so much with the fun but nothing like you guys--”
Buffy was unable to keep the horror from her face.
“They didn’t--do anything like that to you.” It was almost a statement. “Alex, tell me that right now.”
“No. It was all endurance testing I swear. And they took blood a lot.” she replied instantly. “This is why I didn’t want to say anything! It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“Alex--”
“No, Buffy, I’m out. You got me out. Spike nearly had his head cave in to get me out. You have nothing to freak out about or be sorry for. My school is shitty but I’ll be able to write a book someday maybe. They are just nightmares. They will go away eventually. For now I have Nicaraguan hot chocolate and First World Problems.”
Neither of them bothered to ask her what “First World Problems” were, it was pretty self evident. After a few minutes of silence Spike spoke.
“Right then, well, it’s almost light, maybe try and catch a little bit more rest before you head out later in the morning, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She said. She handed him her mug to be rinsed in the sink and turned back to Buffy. “So were the real? Your slayer dreams?”
Buffy looked at her confused for a second before realizing what she was asking. “Wha? oh, nahh, it was hellhounds loose at the high school that week.”
She didn’t see Spike and Alex exchange amused looks behind her back as they all trooped upstairs. And No. 9 went dark for another night.
*****
Buffy woke to a vague feeling of being late for something. The room was lit by a red-gold ribbon peeking out from under the heavy drapery of Spike’s bedroom. Buffy stretched and slid off the bed. Spike didn’t stir, the vampire slept like a rock sometimes.
She wondered what time it was and why vampires were so damn technology averse that Spike didn’t even have a freaking alarm clock. It was clearly later than usual, most mornings the weak London sunlight barely penetrated.
Despite the gloom, she navigated expertly to the wooden stand where Spike hung his dressing gown. Sometime in the night he had taken hers from her room down the hall. It was a silky kimono she had found in the kind of expensive store she hadn’t seen since she was living in LA. It was cool against her skin, but it warmed quickly. Buffy found a hair tie in the robe pocket and fastened her hair into a messy top knot as she slipped out into the hall.
It was brighter than she was expecting, one of the handful of sunny days in London. Despite the rare sunlight, it was cold. She was glad she had pushed to keep the soft Victorian runner than covered the parquet floor. She squidgy her toes in the soft silk plush. One thing she would say about fancy houses: nice carpets.
She shivered. The silk kimono wasn’t going to be enough, she figured she should go to her room and put on something warmer.
As she walked down the hall she wondered why she even bothered with the charade of having her own bedroom, she spent all of her time in Spike’s room anyway. It had never really ever felt like her room, just a place to keep her clothes. It was large and had windows facing out towards the second floor--first floor--patio. It had been Spike’s mother’s room.
Come to think of it, that was probably why she felt so weird about. She knew what had happened with Spike and his mother.
It had been a month now since they arrived at No. 9 Wilton Crescent. A month since that night where all the things came to head at once. Spike’s past, Alex’s future, Raj’s family, Wesley’s plan, everything. The first day at No. 9 had been an insane blur of no one wanting to broach the dam holding back the deluge of everything until inevitably Spike had rolled his eyes and made them face it the insanity of all the planning. Which started out rationally but quickly devolved into various shouting matches (Alex and Raj) and hidden day drinking (Spike and Wesley) and through it all, all she could think about was that for the first time in over a year she was safe. She could breathe.
She took a very long bath, ate an obscene ammount of carbs and caught up on all the Dawson's Creek she had been missing.
And for an instant her life was perfect. And then, very quickly, everything hit her at once. She was safe but she was also pregnant and still the slayer and having monkey sex with the baby-daddy who was a master vampire. They had been in disaster-mode pretty much since that first day the lights went out and she and Spike had made a break for it. And now, here she was sitting in the after.
The next day held a flurry of activities, Wesley headed back to LA, Raj pulled some strings at a school called Holland House and Buffy sat for an entire day in delicious boredom picking through the wreckage of the parlor and sitting in her room, the one she had picked out the night before.
When they had arrived it had been gloomy and not a little depressing, it had been Spike’s mother’s room. It was the first thing she needed to change. She had gutted it and replaced everything, painting the walls a sunny dandelion yellow and adding color to all the harsh paneling and fancy chairs. She redecorated it and made it her own and then never slept in it. But it gave her something to do, something to focus on so she wouldn’t fall apart. Working on this made all the other stuff easier. She went antiquing and went to every cute little boutique she could find and bought tons of things to update the decor and general feel of the house.
No. 9, this house, she loved it with a stupid kind of clarity. Everything in her world was murky and complicated so it was incredibly soothing to just be unabashedly excited about something. She had always thought of herself as a California girl but this quirky London townhouse somehow clicked into place for her.
She pulled on leggings and the kind of comfy sweater that shoudl would never wear back in Sunnydale. The clock next to her bed read 2:00 PM, so late night pyjama party did a number on her. These days she almost always woke early. The little planner she kept told her she was supposed to call an antique book dealer regarding the many valuable mint condition books they had weeded out of the untouched library. She wondered if she could still do that considering how late it was getting.
First things first: Lunch.
Her room had been her first project, the largely empty downstairs area had been her second. Now she and Raj were working on the ruined parlour. They had Raj’s entire Watcher’s library to fit in there, so they were going through all the stuff they had tagging things to sell at auction. Working for a fancy auction house was also a fitting career for a bored young wife of a reclusive aristocrat, so Raj faked an arts degree and the first estate she evaluated was theirs.
As soon as she hit the first floor, however, all her senses went into over drive. There were voices in the kitchen. She was on alert immediately. The rare book dealer was instantly forgotten.
It was too early yet for Alex and Raj to be home.
She made her way silently to the coat closet to grab one of their swords, cursing herself for leaving the battle axe in the kitchen. She made her way down soundlessly and edged her way towards the brightly lit room. She needn't have sneaked. Raj was sitting facing the doorway and he smiled and waved her over. Across from him sat a man Buffy didn’t recognize. She tensed immediately.
“Buffy, this is Simon.”
His warm tone made her feel instantly silly for the panic and she hurriedly hid the sword behind her back and pasted on the brightest smile that she could muster. She wondered who the hell Simon was.
“Annabeth Pratt.” she managed to say without tripping over herself.
Simon had jet black hair and almond shaped-eyes. He looked like he was about 20. Very cute, she wondered if maybe he was the reason Raj never talked to them about girls.
“You’re Buffy?” Simon asked.
Hearing her real name rose her hackles further. She lifted her sword, if he knew who she was, he probably knew what she could do with it. “Who are you?”
Simon wasn’t even looking at the sword. He was studying Buffy, with a strange clinical fascination. Buffy stared him down, tensed, waiting for him to make the first move.
“I’m so sorry.” he said.
That was… not what she was expecting. But then she had been off balance since someone new was sitting at her dining table. Buffy arched her eyebrow. “For what now?”
“My name is Simon Zhang.” He said. “Raj asked me to help find you a midwife. ”
The didn’t answer her question, but then Raj was always apologizing for something or other. It might just be a British trait.
“He did what?”
Raj who had been watching the exchange finally stepped forward with his hands up, the universal signal for ‘Don’t hurt me’. “Buffy, please don’t freak out.”
“Raj, you arranged for a midwife? Tell me why you thought a guy was the correct way to go about things!" She said. " Holy Shit. Did you think I'd be okay with some guy poking around the goods? Do you think Spike will let this guy anywhere near--” she paused. "Any sensitive areas?"
“I will explain my thinking, Buffy, but er, just one thing first?”
“And what is that?”
“The sword?” Simon spoke up, Raj shot him a grateful look. Simon smiled and physically pressed the pommel of the sword down so it hung at Buffy’s side.
The Blonde rolled her eyes. “Raj, You’ve lived here for a month. You think I can’t find a way to kill you that isn’t a sword? You’d already be dead. Now, spill!”
“Comforting as that thought is,” Raj said with a sigh. “When Spike said that the doctor-route was a no go. I thought this would be a better idea.” He paused. “You know? for the sake of the children? All of whom will probably be a fan of their Uncle Raj who is able to protect them because of his possession of all of his limbs.”
Buffy relented only slightly, her eyebrows set at a hard line. “You don’t mean this guy do you? because I thought a midwife was sorta gender specific. Sorry, should I call you midhusband?”
“It’s not me who will minister to you.” Simon spoke up. “It’s my aunt.”
“Right, where is she?”
“She’ll be here in a few minutes.” he explained. “Raj and I thought that it would make sense to arrive separately so that she could not be connected to him as if you found a midwife on your own.”
Buffy was considering him carefully, mindfully never letting go of the sword at her side.
“Cloak and dagger much?”
“Well, given your situation--”
“What do you know about our situation?”
“Everything.” Simon replied calmly. “I’m Raj’s inside man. I work for the Genesis project.”
Buffy’s insides went cold. It felt like everything in her world was happening far far away and her head was too big for her body, but before she could properly react Simon had vanished in a black blur. Confused, she was about to ask what had just happened when she realized Spike had come downstairs and he had slammed the dark haired man on the counter. Simon was grasping at the vampires hands but Spike’s grip was a vice. Simon was slowly turning blue. His hands started to flail around him blindly grasping for anything help. There was a sudden splashing sound punctuated by a growled: “bloody hell!”
“Spike!”
Buffy was at Spike’s side in a second. His hands were covered in superficial healing burns. Simon was holding onto the counter like it was a lifeline, he was holding a small silver crucifix in his left hand.
Raj had gotten up from his chair and had to physically get in between Spike and Simon to talk the vampire down.
“Get out of my way, Prasad!”
“Spike! Calm down! He’s not one of them! He’s not! He works for me!”
“Oi!”
“Really? Right now you want to make an issue of that, Zhang?” Raj demanded. “When you’ve just provoked a Master Vampire?”
“He attacked me!”
“He won’t hesitate to kill you if you keep dropping that bomb like it’s some sort of dramatic punchline, Wanker!” Raj warned. He then turned back to Spike who was watching the exchange while Buffy tutted over his hands. “Forgive him. He works for the Project and used to report to my father. Now he reports their doings to me. He’s helping us. He’s the one who told us about Alex.”
“Alex?”
“the Package.” Raj shot over his shoulder.
“It was an Alex?” Simon said. “A person. Of course it was a person. Fuck Prasad. Your life is messed up.”
“Alex is a girl.”
There was a spark of recognition in Simon’s eyes.
“Eve.”
“Eve?”
“We call her Eve.”
“That's my daughter you are talking about, asshole!” Spike roared, He made to lunge at Simon but Buffy held him fast.
“Okay, everybody just stop!” Buffy’s voice cut through the chatter with all the authority of the slayer. “Raj, make with the ‘splainy.”
The Englishmen all shuddered a little at her interpretation of the English language. If the situation hadn’t been so tense it may have fostered kinship.
“Simon is my friend, the one I told you about who feeds us information? He warned us about their knowing our whereabouts. He told us about the package in Germany. The only reason we knew they were keeping you was Simon. He’s the one who told my Dad about their er- questionable goals.”
Simon shifted uncomfortably under the slayer’s scrutiny.
“Made it seem like a happy little summer project.” He mumbled.
That seemed to calm Spike down. Buffy considered Simon for a second and then nodded to a chair.
“Sit.” She turned and deposited the sword in the umbrella holder. “Raj, coffee. Spike, are you okay?”
Spike nodded but his attention was on the Asian man sitting across from him. He was studying Simon with his laser eyes. Staring him down more like, Buffy rolled her eyes and went to fetch the first aid kit from the training room. When she returned with burn gel and gauze the room was still and silent. She gave Simon the stink eye and started working on Spike’s hands.
The coffee maker was the only thing to break the silence. After a few moments Raj handed around mugs. He had included milk and sugar for Buffy. She accepted it gratefully.
“You work for the project?” Spike asked Simon, his voice making it clear he was skeptical. “And they let you know things?”
“Yes.”
Buffy was still wrapping up his burned hand in the gauze. “This isn’t that bad. What did you do exactly?” She asked directing her attention to Simon.
“It was an experiment, I wanted to see if the crucifix would make holy water.” Simon said. He showed them a silver crucifix he was wearing around his neck. "It's blessed by the pope."
“Experiment a lot of vamps do you?” Spike asked coldly.
Simon's expression darkened and he looked away.
“That was what I was apologizing for. I had no idea how the research would be taken.” he said fidgeting a little. “I was only told about an interesting internship that paid well. Ravi suggested it for me.”
Spike seemed to relax at that. Buffy finished up with his hands and turned to Simon.
“You’ve been helping them this whole time.” she said. it wasn’t a question.
Simon nodded tentatively. “Raj and I go way back.”
“You told him that Alex was there.”
Again, Simon nodded. “I try and let him know whatever I hear around the lab.”
It hit her then that Simon, this regular kid with no powers and no real connection to this world, knew how dangerous these people were and he knew first hand what they were willing to do with human beings and he was defying them anyway. He was, in his own way, fighting the good fight. And his information had lead to their escape. They probably owed him their lives and Spike had nearly choked him to death. He finally looked her in the eye. She held it for along moment and she nodded once. And she tried to convey she realized what he had done, what he was doing.
“Thank you.”
Simon stared at her, flabbergasted that he would be let off the hook so quickly.
“Little young to be a doctor aren’t you?” Spike’s voice cut in. Stupid Vampire.
“Spike!”
“What? He looks like he’s going to start a computer diary while bad synth pop plays in the bloody background!”
Now that her Florence Nightingale duties were over she ignored the vamp. “You said your aunt was coming to midwife at me?”
There was a sudden noise. Everyone in the room tensed except Simon.
“Was that the doorbell?” Buffy asked nervously.
Simon arched an eyebrow.
“You’ve never heard your doorbell?”
“I’ll get it.” Raj said.
“No.” Spike said quickly. “The whole point is not to link either of you with the midwife. Pet, you should go.”
Buffy glanced from one face to another and sighed nervously. “Right.”
She walked up the stairs wondering what a midwife would even be like when she opened the door she had to look down to see who it was.
Buffy was unaccustomed to people being shorter than her, but this woman was. She barely cleared 5 feet, had a severe face, and her chin-length iron gray hair was perfectly turned in at the ends.
“You must be Buffy, You may call me Mrs. Cho.” She fixed her dark eyes on Buffy and the slayer felt herself shrink a little. For a second they stood like that, Buffy had no idea what the woman was waiting for. Finally, after a small cough from Mrs. Cho, Buffy regained her wits. She stepped back wordlessly inviting the woman into the house.
“This hallway is very dark, you are pregnant. You must have sunlight. Tell your husband to open these windows.”
Hearing Spike referred to as her husband was enough to make even a bewildered Buffy giggle, but she had barely let off a noise before Mrs. Cho turned and fixed her with a fierce stare.
"Do you have a husband?"
Buffy felt her back straighten and her mirth subside instantly. There was something in the dark eyes of this woman that made her afraid to disappoint.
“I’ll tell him. He’s, erm, downstairs.”
"Where is your ring?"
"Uhm..."
But she didn't have to answer that. The tiny woman ploughed on.
“Already more than 12 weeks in an no ultrasound. You should have had one at Fifth week. We must do this now. We are going to have to have it here. Where is my nephew? Simon? Simon!”
She was fast, she had crossed right passed Buffy, who was watching her in sort of a daze, and marched down the stairs. Buffy followed her helplessly.
Simon jabbered at her in Chinese and followed it with a bow that Mrs. Cho barely acknowledged.
“I am Mrs. Cho.” She announced to the room. “We must get started immediately. It is already long overdue. You,” she pointed at Raj. “You heat water for tea. You,” she pointed at Spike. “You get towels. Simon, is the machinery ready?”
It took each of them a second to realize that they had been given orders. Mrs. Cho stared them down until Raj sprung up to the tea abandoning the coffee and Spike busied himself with pretending he had an idea where the towels were.
“I set it up in the training room, Auntie,” Simon answered quickly and gestured to where he had set up the mobile ultrasound.
She nodded once. “Good.”
She reached into the carpet bag she had with her and pulled out a strainer filled with dried herbs that smelled like rotting pickle juice and old seafood. “brew this.” and then she took Buffy’s arm efficiently steering her towards the door.
“You are lucky that your health is good, look at those ankles! We are already behind,” she said. “Simon will make tea, you will drink this tea, all of it. If you do not I will know. if you forget once I will know, you will drink at least one cup everyday. You will not play with it or slosh it around the side you will drink it.” her orders continued as she lead Buffy down the hall. “I know all of the tricks.”
The slayer nodded dumbly unsure how to even respond to this woman.
“Good.” Mrs. Cho said simply. “Everything we do, we do for the baby. Follow me.”
As she allowed herself to be lead away Buffy heard Raj lean over.
“Is she for real?” He asked.
“Better brew that tea, mate.” Simon replied. “She keeps impossibly magnificent roses in her backyard and I’ve never met Mr. Cho.”
******
Author's Note: Let me know what you all think! More soon--I know I promise this all the time but actually this time! Reviews feed the muse so get in touch, guys!
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