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NA GRACH CROI



Chapter 20: ‘Taisgeal’ (Finding)


A/N: Since I’ve left Buffy out of the mix for a couple of chapters, I thought I’d start this one with a little Buffy POV.


Buffy Summers O’Hara wondered, almost aimlessly, around the small, but neat hotel room. She had rented a place, the minute she got to Londonderry. The ‘in the know’ train station master made her realize the cold hard facts. The next ship out for America was not sailing until two days from now.

“Figures,” Buffy sighed in frustration as she stared out the little window that overlooked Londonderry below. She was hungry, still, even after a rather large breakfast at a nearby café.

“I suppose it’s the baby,” Buffy smiled weakly as she spoke out loud. “Poor little thing,” she mumbled as she began to cry softly. She placed her own tiny hand over her tummy and closed her weary eyes.

Buffy had been foolish, she realized, to think that a ship would just be there, in Londonderry Port, waiting to whisk her home to America. But she had been so desperate, so anxious to put as much distance between herself and William. That’s why she had finally given in to Angel and allowed him to take her away from the O’Hara farm.

She had no doubt that everyone for miles about Balleycastle had been made aware of the fiasco of the last few days. William, her own husband, was probably thanking God that she’d left him and the farm he loved so damn much. At least, that is how Angel made it sound to be.

Then, there was Tara and Willow, her new friends, and Cordelia Chase. “Poor Cordelia,” Buffy sighed through her hot tears, “she probably thinks I’m a really big whore now. Probably thinks I seduced Angel into taking me away. Oh God,” she groaned.

“This ‘is’ a nightmare. I hope that William and everyone realizes, know in their hearts, that I only went with Angel so he could escort me safely. I had no idea that Angel ‘thought’ there was something more. Fool, that I am. Some ‘fancy lady’ I have ever been? Did not even recognize that my husband’s brother expected favours for helping me.”

Buffy felt sick, again, to her stomach. Whether it was from her pregnancy, or the horrors of the last few days? She could not be sure. She did know this, however. Once she had boarded that ship to America, she would never look back. Try to never think again of Ireland, or William O’Hara. The man she had married and loved beyond reason.


Spike and Xander finally found Liam ‘Angel’ O’Hara in the third pub they searched out. The dark-haired, tall O’Hara youngest was hard to miss. He sat at the bar, his good hand held a glass of some whiskey or such. By the looks of things, Angel had spent most of day and evening in this place.

“Stay here,” Spike nodded at Xander, his employee, by the pub door. “I’ll see to my brother, by myself.

Xander gave Spike a wary look, but accepted his employer’s orders.

“Angel,” Spike hissed from behind his younger brother. It took everything he had not to attack the younger man.

“Hello, Spike,” Angel greeted quietly, never turning to look at his older sibling.

“Why?” Spike asked with a dangerous growl.

“Because you don’t deserve her, brother,” Angel answered simply, still not turning to face Spike. “But then again, apparently, neither do I.”

Spike grabbed Angel by the back of his shirt and spun him about to face him. The other patrons in the bar finally became silent, perfectly aware of the brawl that was about to begin.

“You talked my wife into leaving me, Angel,” Spike hissed through gritted teeth. His blue eyes were mere slits of anger and rage.

“Talked her into it?” Angel asked evenly, “or did you drive her away? Ask yourself that one, brother.”

“Both,” Spike finally answered, his head hung down in shame. “It was both,” he repeated sadly. “I want her back, Angel,” the fair haired man rasped. “I want my Buffy back.”

“Well, hopefully, your wife, as you now so openly call her, is on a boat to America. Away from you. And all of us,” Angel spat back at Spike, smugly.

“You love her?” Spike asked, almost afraid of his brother’s answer.

“No,” Angel mumbled, “but I wanted her. Wanted what ‘you’ had. You always win, Spike, always. It’s you that gets the prize and always comes out ahead. I just wanted to win, just once, boyo.”

Spike glared at his brother in disbelief.

“You hate me, that much then?” he asked Angel, shocked to the core.

“Yes,” Angel answered honestly. “I hate you for saving my life, but not all of me, physically. Hate you for being the fair-haired son and hero about our homeland. Hate you for ever bringing your golden Goddess to our home and reminding me of what I can never have. Hate you for showing me what a fucking failure I truly am.”

“You’re the reason that you are a failure, Angel,” Spike sighed sadly. “You could have made a good life for yourself. Found happiness with someone who worshipped you and wanted a life with you. Instead, you fed on your self-pity until it devoured you completely.”

“Do ‘you’ love Buffy, William?” Angel asked his elder. “Do you worship your wife and would you go through Hell for her?”

“I do,” Spike answered with conviction. “And I’d march though Hell for Buffy.”


Angel shrugged, almost indifferently and pulled away from Spike. He sat back down on the bar stool and finished his drink, quickly.

“You’re a pathetic fool, brother,” Spike hissed at Angel. “A fucking pathetic loser. Not because life made you that way, but because you did. Yourself that is.”

“Buffy wouldn’t let me touch her, Spike. Just for the record, I mean. She looked disgusted when I just mentioned it.” Angel choked out his confession in a subdued tone.

“She loves you, you fucking bastard,” Angel continued, bitterly. “Your wife worships the ground you walk on and loves you more then life. She’s pregnant, did you know that brother?”

Spike flinched, but said nothing in response.

“She’s going to give the world another little perfect O’Hara. But,” the dark man chuckled, “it’ll be on the other side of the world. There’s the rub, isn’t it?”

“I tried to talk her out of the baby,” Angel continued, his voice was harsh and cold. “Tried to convince her to find this Maam of hers, this Anya Jenkins to tell Buffy how to get rid of the babe. But she’d have no part of it. Wanted the poor little bastard. Wants a part of ‘you’ and all.”

Angel downed the next drink, rapidly and signalled for another.

Spike felt like he was going to be sick. He looked at the bar keep and then tossed a few pounds on the bar, in front of Angel.

“Keep them coming,” Spike ordered evenly. “Until my brother is so drunk he can’t sit on the bar stool without help.”

The bartender nodded, solemly and refilled Angel’s glass. “I’ll see to him,” the old man behind the bar promised Spike.

“Liam,” Spike began, his voice low and gutteral. He used his younger brother’s Christian, given name.

“I never want to lay eyes on you again. Do you understand?” Spike struggled to keep from pummeling Angel, completely into dust.

“No problem,” Angel responded, his back still turned on his older brother.

When Spike met up with Xander at the pub door, the dark haired man asked, “thought you were going to rip out Angel’s throat and shove it up his arse?”

“Don’t need to,” Spike replied, matter-of-factly, “my brother’s a lost man. To beat him, or kill him? It’d be just finishing off the job. Let him stew and suffer in his own bitterness.”

The two men hurried back to the Limavady train station and their destination to Londonderry.

“She’s got to still be there,” Spike stated to Xander as they boarded the train. “I’ve got to find her and keep her with me. I love her so much.”

It was nearly dawn when Spike and Xander made it to Londonderry. Even by train, the trip was long and arduous.

Xander had slept, most of the way, while Spike found it difficult, nearly impossible to rest. All’s Spike could think about was his wife, Buffy and their child together.

‘Dear God,’ Spike had prayed all the way to Londonderry, ‘please let her forgive me. Please, dear Lord, let my wife give me another chance.’

Once they had arrived in the bustling port town, Spike and Xander immediately began to question the train station master about Buffy.
Yes, he had seen the lovely lady exit the train, yesterday morning. No, there was no ship to America, sailing, not until the day after this one.

Spike looked up to Heaven and thanked God Allmighty for listening to his pleas.

“I pointed the lady into the direction of Fitzgerald’s Hotel, sirs,” the kind station master directed the two men. “It is the best place in town and suited to a lady such as stepped off of this train yesterday.”

“Thanks friend,” Spike muttered as he nearly ran to the Hotel the station master pointed to.

“I’ll get a room, for myself, then, Spike,” Xander offered with a sly grin as he watched his employer and best friend hurry into Fitzgerald’s. Spike barely acknowledged Xander as he made his way to the hotel desk clerk and asked after Buffy.

“Yes, Mr. O’Hara,” the clerk nodded, amicably, “your wife is in one of the better rooms. Although she made no mention of your being here to meet her. I’m so glad though,” the kind young man grinned. “A lady such as Mrs. O’Hara should not be alone in this town. It’s a good place, but not safe, not for true ladies, like your wife.”

“Thank you,” Spike muttered as he took the extra key to Buffy’s room. “See that you give my friend here,” he pointed at Xander, “a good room to stay in.” With that, Spike tossed another ten pounds in front of the desk clerk and high-tailed it up to room #3. Buffy’s room.

Spike took a deep breath, and swallowed hard. He knew he had to get this right, all of this. No matter what, Spike wanted Buffy back and if he had to beg on bended knee? Then, so be it.

“Will!” Buffy gasped when she opened the Hotel room door and found her husband, standing there. She damn near fainted, straight-away at the sight of her disheveled man in the door way.

Before she could say anything else, or slam the door in Spike’s face, he strode into the room and closed the door behind him.

Dropping to his knees, Spike threw his arms about Buffy’s still tiny waist and whimpered.

“Forgive me, please baby,” he pleaded with his wife. “I’m a fool, a stupid blind fool who doesn’t deserve you. Please, Princess,” he continued, “please forgive me and come home with me. I love you so much, Buffy. So much. I’ll die without you, I swear it.”

Buffy stood, frozen in shock that her Will had found her. More then that? She was shocked that her husband had even looked for her.

“Forgive you?” she whispered in disbelief. “Forgive ‘you’ Will? What about me? I deceived you and lied to you, by omission. Can you forgive ‘me’ ever?”

“A thousand million times, my love,” Spike said, his voice husky with emotion.

“If you can forgive me, then I can forgive you. I’ve more to be forgiven for. I know that now, so please, Buffy,” Spike began to weep, “please forgive me. I love you so very much, sweet. Say that you still love me. Please.”

“I love you, Will,” Buffy murmered gently stroking her husband’s curly head. “So much, my darling,” she added as she wrapped her own arms about him.

“I’ve something to tell you Will,” she whispered, finally joining him, in kneeling on the floor.

“We are having a baby, Will,” Buffy murmered softly, burying her face into her husband’s strong chest. “A little O’Hara,” she finished, her own voice choked with emotion.

“Well,” Spike whispered into his love’s little warm ear, “isn’t that just fine then?” He began to weep, great hot tears of joy at finding his wife.


A/N: Hokey, hokey, hokey…….But so wonderfully Irish, don’t you think!!!

Please read and review. There are more chapters coming, promise. Some more excitement and ‘upheaval’ for the ‘family O’Hara’ and the people in their lives. Lots of Spuffy make up sex in the next chapter!

Thank you. Luv, Spuf





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