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Chapter Six



Buffy felt guilty. The reason why she felt so guilty was because she felt resentful. Resentful of the fact that Spike, Cordelia, Anya and anyone else in the world she came in contact with had a life. Or seemed to anyway. She used to have a life. She considered school, work, Faith and Nate, and hanging out with Spike having a life. Now, she had…Nate and work. Now she understood how it felt to have your life revolve around a child. In a word, it was exhausting. From the time Nate woke up in the morning to the time he went to bed, all her actions revolved around him. She understood now why Faith had to get away at times. Though, ‘at times’ to Faith meant a couple nights every week. Buffy could get behind a parent (or both) needing some time away from their kids, but not as much as Faith seemed to need it. Buffy found she missed Nate during the day. She also worried about him endlessly and probably stressed the poor neighbor with her constant phone calls. She couldn’t help it though. Nate was all she had and she loved that little boy as if he was her own, and well, he pretty much was hers now.

So, Buffy felt guilty for being resentful of the fact that she couldn’t go out on a whim like Spike could. She didn’t have the time to do her hair in the morning like Cordelia did and…she no longer had Spike around as much like Anya did. She also felt something toward the blond girl that she didn’t start to feel until after she’d encouraged Spike to talk to her: Anger. She was angry with the girl. It didn’t dawn on Buffy until later that Anya had made her feel like some kind of home wrecker. As if she were stealing Spike from under her nose. If anyone stole Spike, it was Anya. He had more time for her when he was single than when he started seeing Anya. Where the hell did she get off? And, in a moment of self-pity, Buffy felt angry that Anya made it seem as if she’d lost her pet, not her sister. She had been the one who had wanted to do all these things for her and Nate and now it all made sense to Buffy: She was willing to help so that a) she could score points with Spike, b) she could spend more time with Spike—especially if they watched Nate together and c) she could free up more of Spike’s time so that he could ‘give her many orgasms.’ Was it wrong to be angry with Anya as she was? She really hated it when people thought she was just a naïve little girl. She knew what the what was, she just didn’t always let on to it.

Of course, Buffy did know that Spike couldn’t very well devote his entire life to helping her, and she didn’t want him to. He could be positively exhausting himself. She didn’t so much mind the company as much as she minded the worried glances if she expressed her grief or recalled a memory and shared it with him. He acted as if she were going to fall to pieces and that he was the only one that could put her back together. Buffy didn’t want anyone to put her back together. She knew it was something that had to be done on her own. So, yes, this was good that Anya had manipulated her. And yet, Buffy was pissed as hell at Spike too. Didn’t he get what Anya was up to? Didn’t he get that Anya really didn’t care two shits how she was, only caring that Anya got what Anya wanted: Spike all to herself. It bothered her on a really basic level too. Anya’s whole behavior made Buffy feel even more alone than she already was. It just went to show her that there were people out there that didn’t really give a damn about you and what you were going through. They were only looking to get theirs. It hurt Buffy to know that she had falsely considered Anya a friend of hers as well, when in actuality, she was only a friend to her when it suited her. Buffy wouldn’t have cared if Spike had wanted to bring Anya along when he would come over to visit her and Nate. She would have welcomed the company and the ensured laughter. She didn’t hog Spike on purpose; he made his own choices.

So, in essence, she felt guilty for missing her old life pre-child, she was angry at the world for taking Faith and she was angry at the world for being so apathetic and selfish, and in turn felt guilty for wanting some attention that seemed to be lacking since she told Spike to make amends with Anya. It wasn’t as if he had to come over every night, but she had barely seen him in two weeks! She felt lonely and depressed and she had no one to blame but herself. And Faith. Oh, that was another thing. She was still angry at Faith for leaving to go ‘grocery shopping’ when she really needed a fix with her loser boyfriend. If she had just gone to the grocery store and came home, she never would have gotten in that accident. And, if Buffy had never agreed to watch Nate, then Faith would never have left. She just knew that she was asking for it by agreeing to it. She knew that five minutes in Faith’s world meant more like an hour and a half. Buffy had almost told her no, that she could get whatever she needed for dinner. Then, Faith never would have gone out, Buffy would have made her class and Faith would still be here.

Buffy shut her eyes tightly as she leaned back against the couch. She felt so many things inside her, she didn’t know how to let it out. Instinct told her to call Spike, but she was angry with him. Buffy glanced over at the clock. He was working now. She could just pretend to call to check on something. No. She asked for this. So, by God she was going to punish herself more than she already was for doing it. Made perfect sense. She was masochistic when she was depressed and angry.

Besides, she had things to do once Nate woke up from his nap. She had to find a daycare today for him. She had a list of centers to check out and even had a few appointments for later that afternoon. Yes, she had things to do. For Nate. Which, in turn, helped her out. Then, she could make a set schedule at work and be home for Nate in the evenings and weekends. Maybe she could even meet some nice mothers to make friends with. Maybe they could help each other out, maybe she could just go OUT, even if it was a play date.

The sound of Nate over the monitor tore her out of her thoughts and she made her way to his bedroom. He was sitting up in his crib, binky in his mouth and staring up at her groggily. He just looked so adorable that Buffy welled up in tears for even missing her old life for one minute. How could she be so selfish? She picked him up, cradling and cooing at him when she noticed how incredibly hot he felt. And sweaty. The back of his neck was damp and so was his back. The room wasn’t too hot, it was just right. She had a window open letting in a breeze. She flicked on the light and studied him. His eyes were glazed over a bit and he was just resting against her. Nate wasn’t much of a cuddler. He was a one toddler wrecking machine. He had the energy of ten men in one little body. Buffy went directly to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet until she found the thermometer. Oh good, it was one of those electronic ones that took but a second to the side of the head. She could count on Faith not to have a complicated, up-your-butt thermometer.

Sitting down with him on the toilet seat, Buffy clicked it on and pressed it to the side of his forehead. Her mouth went dry. 102. Okay, so it wasn’t THAT bad… but still bad for a one year old. Buffy grabbed a washcloth and wet it with cold water and wiped his forehead. He didn’t like that much, but she didn’t care. Then, she took him to the kitchen and set him down in his high chair and broke up a Popsicle and gave him a cup of cold juice as she went searching for Children’s Tylenol. She found it, read the directions and gave it to him. Surprisingly, he sucked it down. Next, doctor. She had the name and number of his doctor on speed dial. She hadn’t officially met him, but she was about to.

“Hello, this is Buffy Summers. I’m Nate Summers guardian. He’s running a high fever of 102. I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Buffy relayed into the phone.

“Has he been acting funny?” The nurse asked.

“No, he went down for a nap and woke up hot. He’s been a little groggy, but other than that, fine.”

“Who is his pediatrician?”

“Uh…Dr. O’ Connor.”

“Why don’t you bring him in Miss Summers and Dr. O’ Connor can take a look at him.”

“Okay, thank you. What time?”

“Just come on over.”

‘Thank you.”

After cleaning Nate up and changing his diaper, both Buffy and Nate were en route to Buffy’s first doctor appointment with him. He was sick and she was alone. Before she knew it, she was crying right along with Nate who started to cry in his car seat.

“I’m sorry, baby. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but we’ll figure it out. I’m sorry….” She wept to him.

Once in the parking lot of the pediatrician’s office, Buffy took a handful of tissues from the glove compartment and wiped at her eyes. She wasn’t wearing any makeup that day, so she really didn’t have to worry about smudging her mascara or some crap like that. Pulling her hair back away from her face, she got out of the car and got Nate. She held him tightly to her as she entered the office, the stench of sickness, medicine and bleach hitting her nostrils. She watched as children ran around as their parents tried to corral them, or cried as their parents held them and some of them even slept. Nate just sighed against her and rested his head on her chest, letting her know he would be content to just rest on her for now.

“Buffy Summers, I just called for my nephew Nate.”

The older nurse smiled up at her and pulled his file from in front of her with ease. She opened it and her smile faded a bit. “Yes, Miss Summers. Dr. O’ Connor will be with you in a minute. I’m sorry about to hear about your sister.”

Buffy nodded, fighting back tears. “Thank you.” Finding a place away from the other sick children, Buffy sat with Nate in her lap and whispered words of love to him as they waited. She was so engrossed in thinking about how Faith had done this before and how worried she was about Nate that she didn’t hear the doctor call her until he was practically on top of her.

“Miss Summers?” A deep voice startled her and the hand to her arm made her jump.

She turned to greet the voice and found a man, maybe a few years older than her, with short, dark hair, warm brown eyes and a sincere smile looking at her.

“Y-yes?”

“I can see Nate now.”

“Oh,” she said, confusion clearing. “Okay, thanks. Come on Nate the Great.” She stood on shaky legs and berated herself for not eating again today. She would be of no help to him if she didn’t keep herself herself healthy.

“How are you doing, Miss Summers?” The nice doctor asked. Geez, he was tall. He towered over her.

“I’m not going to lie to you, I’m really worried.”

Dr. O’ Connor nodded, “completely normal. Kids get fevers and get sick all the time, Miss Summers. He’ll be fine. Is this the first time you’ve had to bring him in?”

“Yeah, usually, my uh, sister did it.”

“Come on in,” he stepped aside and held the door to a room open. Buffy stepped inside, taking in the finger paintings and pictures of children that adorned the bright white walls. She sat on the examination table with Nate on her lap. Dr. O’ Connor sat down across from her in a black chair and smiled gently up at her. “You can call me Angel, Miss Summers. Dr. O’ Connor sounds too stuffy.”

She smiled warily, “okay, Dr…Angel. You can call me Buffy instead of Miss Summers.”

“Will do. How’s he been doing with everything?”

Buffy bit her lip and looked down for a minute, willing herself not to lose it. “He’s been all right. Asks for ‘mama’ now and then. I’m surprised he hasn’t since he woke up with his fever.”

Angel nodded, “and you?”

“Fine,” she said automatically. She was so used to saying it, that she didn’t even think about it anymore.

He stared at her, “that was quick.”

She blinked, “yeah, I…guess I really don’t think about it anymore. I’m so used to everyone asking me that, so now it’s just a knee-jerk response. No one really wants to hear how crappy you’re doing because then it just makes them feel bad, or maybe they don’t really care how you’re doing, so by telling them you’re doing crappy, you’re just making them feel as if they are responsible for helping you out of it. And who wants someone to help you out of it when they don’t really care how you’re doing. It’s just some stupid question that people feel they have to ask to pretend they care when they really don’t.” Buffy paused and noted Angel’s startled expression. “Can you look at Nate now?”

It took a moment, but Angel jumped up, “of course. Can you just um, face him toward me?”

“Sure.”

Angel checked out a squirming Nate who tried many times to move away from Angel or who grunted disapprovingly at him as Angel poked and prodded. When Nate started to cry, Buffy glared at Angel.

Angel smiled apologetically at her. “Sorry, Buffy. I haven’t seen the little guy since his one year check up and just wanted to cover all bases.”

She nodded curtly. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Looks to me like he has an ear infection,” Angel told her scribbling something on a note pad. “I’m prescribing some antibiotics for him. Amoxicillan. I can have my nurse call it in so it’ll be ready for pick up if you’d like.”

Now she felt guilty for being short with him. “That’d be great, thanks.”

“Can I have five?” Angel asked, sticking out his hand, palm side up for Nate. Buffy laughed as Nate slapped it and Angel pretended it hurt, making Nate giggle.

Angel laughed and ruffled his hair. “He’s going to be just fine. Keep giving him the Tylenol every four to six hours and the amoxicillan should kick in by tomorrow night.”

“Thank you, Dr.—“

“Angel.”

She smiled, “thank you, Angel.”

“If you need anything, just give me a call, okay?”

Buffy nodded, “will do.”

“Here’s my home number if you have any questions.” Angel handed her a slip of paper. Buffy looked down at it, dumbfounded. Sure enough it said, ‘Angel @ home: 555-3247.’

She looked up at him as he watched her. “Do pediatricians do house calls again?”

Angel chuckled. “No, that was my lame attempt to give you my number, hoping you’d call me for something other than my doctorly advice.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Are you asking me out?”

If it were possible, Angel blushed. Which just made Buffy smile at how cute that was. Here was this big, strong man blushing over her.

“Yes, I am Buffy.”

She didn’t know why she felt compelled to agree to it, but she did. Maybe because she was lonely, and her knee-jerk reaction of staying alone just wasn’t cutting it at the moment. Not after today. Angel had helped her, helped Nate. How could she say no to that? She felt all sorts of warm fuzzies for him right now. Besides, he was hot.

“Okay, I’ll call you.” Which was totally NOT Buffy. She didn’t do the calling, she rather hated the phone. Instead, she waited for the guy to do the calling. But hey, it was a crazy day and she felt like being a little crazy. Even if it was just a stupid phone call.

Angel smiled broadly. “I’ll be waiting.” He reached out and ruffled Nate’s curls. Angel walked her to her car and Nate took great pleasure in playing hide and seek with him, using Buffy’s shoulder as the place in which to hide behind. His bursts of laughter were contagious





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