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REBEL HEARTS


Chapter 17: ‘Blessings’


‘May 11th, 1779’


Buffy held the tiny baby in her arms, as she had since he had been born three hours earlier. The tiny baby boy suckled at her left breast, greedily, while his blue eyes seemed to peruse Buffy as if to ask ‘what the bloody heck?’

Mother giggled loudly and tweaked her tiny son’s soft cheek, gently, “greedy little thing,” she sighed wearily. “You have not stopped eating since you came into this world, I believe. If you do not slow down, little one, there will not be enough milk left for your sister.”

As if a sign, Mahalia, Buffy’s beloved servant placed a second bundle in her right arm, the child immediately began to suckle her Mother’s right breast, hungrily.

“There’s two of the most beautiful babies I ever seen, Missy,” Mahalia crowed proudly as she hovered about her Mistress. “You and the Captain, you sure did good with those two.”

Buffy felt a wave of pain and longing flash across her face and down to her heart, “yes,” she whispered softly, “William and I, we did very good.”

“What’s you gonna’ name the two little angels,” Mahalia asked quickly, changing the subject.

Buffy smiled again and bit her bottom lip, gently, “I have decided to name our son, James Michael, for Will’s twin brother. Michael is Will’s middle name, I wish I could give him their Father’s first name, but…” She trailed off then looked at their daughter, “I think I shall name my little angel, Joyce Darla, after my mother and Will’s.”

Her servant smiled down at the three of them, “them’s fine names, Missy,” she murmered, “Captain Anderson, he’d be so very pleased, I know. Wish you could get in contact with him, Missy Buffy. Let him know about this, but, I understand why you don’t.”

Buffy nodded sadly, she had received correspondance, miraculously, somehow from William, three times, right off. Then they stopped, the letters that is. Buffy had tried to send letters back, but she was more then certain they probably did not reach William. Really, how could they?

‘He probably thinks I am not writing him back,’ she surmised sadly, even if she would not tell him about their children, just yet, that is. The three letters from Will had come through Father Rayne, who Buffy had sent Jesse off to fetch, just hours before this moment. Buffy wanted her twins Christened, immediately, with their given names and she knew Father Rayne would want to be there.

If it had not been for the Priest’s ingenuity, back when Buffy confessed her pregnancy, she knew she would be in a world of trouble now. However, Father Rayne’s quick thinking and compassion had helped Buffy to face her daunting task and together with Mahalia and Jesse, the four had pulled off a ruse to cover the identity of the twins’ Father.

Now, however, Buffy wanted Father Rayne to officially help her name the babies, in the eyes of the Church, and put down, in his Bible, just exactly who had sired the two blessings.

“Father Rayne’s here, Missy,” Mahalia hurried back into the bedroom, leading the Priest behind her.

“Elizabeth, my dear,” he smiled warmly, “you are indeed blessed. Two little lambs to comfort you. God must truly be smiling on you my daughter.”

For the first time, since the babies had come from her body, Buffy burst into tears; of joy, fatigue, worry, who knew, but she was embarrassed by them all the same.

Father Rayne took the babies in his strong arms, “now Elizabeth,” he murmered softly, “you cry all you want. This is a happy time and tears of joy are better then any tears of pain or sorrow. You have much to be joyful about, daughter. What shall we name the little darlings then?”

Buffy told her Priest their names.

“Now, those are truly fine names, Elizabeth,” Father Rayne chortled, “and we shall bless them, using their names with the Holy Water I’ve brought.”

Spike stood outside his makeshift quarters and stared up at the moon in the black sky. His cigarette was nearly gone, he was alone by his tent, alone and heartbroken. Buffy had not returned any letters to him in the months since he had left her behind.

Which meant one of three things; his letters had not reached her, she was not responding to him, or her letters to him had not gone through.

Spike was sure it was the latter, ‘after our time together,’ he reasoned with a sigh, ‘the way we made love together, were so bonded with each other. I cannot believe she has forgotten me.’

With a wistful sigh, at the thought of his Buffy, who he always thought of anyway, Spike tossed out the finished cigarette.

After a moment or two of his quiet reverie, a feeling of pure joy came over him, one so strong, so unexpected and overwhelming, that Spike felt tears come to his eyes. It filled him with a new wave of hope and happiness.

“I’ll come for you, as soon as I can, Buffy darling,” he whispered to the moon. Please, wait for me, pray for me as I do you, always. I love you and know you love me also.”


A/N: Short chapter! Peace and Love, Spufette





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