Title: Murphy’s Law 

Interlude to: Weathered

Rated: PG-13

Summary: Buffy and Spike are back in Sunnydale.  Now how will the gang take the news of their little adventure?

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  Joss, UPN, and WB own everything.  Please don’t sue me.

Special Thanks: My three lovely beta reader, Jennifer, Haley, and Karen.  Let’s all thank them for improving my language skills, shall we.  Thank you!

AN:  This is the interlude between Part 1 and Part 2 because I just couldn’t figure out exactly where to put it.  Also, this is more drama/angst then anything, so don’t expect any physical fights.  Still, enjoy.

 

---

 Murphy’s Law 

 

 

Part 1: Homecoming

 

“Now, remember, give her her bottle at least thirty minutes before you put her down,” Anya said as Xander pulled her towards the door.

 

Joyce was gently rocking the sleeping baby girl in her arms as she watched the couple.  They reminded her of when she first had Buffy and she left her alone for the first time with her mother-in-law.  She had spent the entire evening worrying whether or not she was alright, and couldn’t even enjoy the nice dinner that Hank had planned for them.  Xander seem to be having a similar problem with making Anya leave.

 

“Oh, and make sure it’s heated up properly.  If it’s not, she won’t eat it,” the ex-demon said, a little closer to the door.

 

“Alright, Anya,” the middle aged woman said following them.

 

“Come on, Ahn.  If we don’t hurry, we’ll lose our reservation.”

 

“This is concerning our child’s welfare, Alexander LaVelle Harris!” she spat at him angrily.  “I would think you would be more concerned.”

 

He let his head drop out of frustration and then looked to the Scoobies’ surrogate mother for help.

 

“Anya,” she said in her kindest voice, “everything will be fine.  I’ll feed Jessie, and put her to bed just like you wrote down.  I swear.”

 

Anya still didn’t look satisfied by the assurance, but sighed.  She wanted a night off, just like Xander.  They had been so worried when Jessie was born two months early, all the Scoobies had, and the woman had practically taken every precaution known to man to keep the small child safe and healthy once she got home.  Now, five months later, the child was okay, but the ex-demon still worried profusely about her.  After all, one never knew when you lived on the Hellmouth.

 

Anya stepped towards Joyce, bent down, and gave the sleeping baby a kiss on the forehead.

 

“Mommy loves you,” she said soothingly as if the child was being fussy instead of out like a light, “even if Daddy doesn’t.”

 

Xander rolled his eyes, and Anya finally joined him on the porch.  Yeah.  It was going to be a long night.

 

“Thanks again for babysitting, Joyce,” he said, as the two headed slowly down the front steps.

 

“No problem,” she answered, still in the doorway.  “Have fun you two.”

 

“Little chance of that,” Xander muttered, heading for his truck.

 

Joyce shook her head and went back into the house, shutting the door behind her.  Tonight she had planned on a quiet evening at home alone, taking advantage of the fact that her youngest was out having fun at the Bronze with her friends.  She had everything planned so perfectly.  She was going make herself a little dinner, then go upstairs and have a nice bubble bath, and finally turn in early with a good, romantic book she had picked up the day before at Barns & Noble.

 

Unfortunately, Xander called about three that afternoon, begging her to baby-sit because he had come home to find Anya stuck in baby-talk mode.  He said ‘when your wife asks you, ‘Does Xander-Wander want to take a bathy-wathy before dindin?’ then it’s time to get her out of the house for one night.’  Joyce couldn’t exactly disagree with that.

 

The older woman placed the child in the bassinet she had pulled out the attic, and smiled as she looked at the sleeping form.  Right now, Joyce could almost pretend that it was Buffy or Dawn lying there, and she was a young mother who had just brought her daughter home.  But this wasn’t one of her daughters.  Her baby was out at a night club, having teenage fun, and her other baby was buried in Pleasant Oaks Cemetery.  No, there were no more babies in Joyce’s future, unless they belonged to friends; and, some distant day, Dawn’s own children.  But that would be a long, long, long time from then, at least if Joyce had anything to say about it.

 

A gentle tapping came from the door, and she shook her head.  It hadn’t even been five minutes and Anya had already thought of something else she needed to tell Joyce because she didn’t know anything about raising children.  Never mind she had only done it twice.

 

She went back to the door, laughing as she opened it and said, “What is it, Anya?”

 

Her features froze when she saw who was actually standing behind the door.  The color drained from her face, and she would have sworn her heart stopped right at that moment, if she hadn’t heard it pumping loudly in her ears.

 

Like she had done when she had left at seventeen, a weary-eyed Buffy looked up at her mother and said, “Hi, Mom.”

 

******

 

The little Mercedes screeched to a halt as the truck cut them off at her street, not paying any attention to who might be coming from the other way.  Buffy caught her breath from the passenger seat as the truck began to blow its horn at them, as if they had been the ones who had done something wrong.

 

“Yeah, same to you!” Spike yelled at the window, as he held up his two fingers in a rude gester; to which Buffy had finally learned the meaning of while in Europe.  She would yell at him later for doing it in front of Dylan, but at least he wasn’t swearing.  “I swear, you bloody Americans need to learn how to drive,” he said before he turned down her street.

 

Everything on the street looked the same as the last time she had seen it, even the Gardners leaving those awful ice icicle lights up all year round.  This would have been how the street looked if she had made it there that night.  Instead, she was coming home almost two years later with a baby girl and a newly souled vampire who was the father.  Not to mention quit a bit richer.

 

After the night that Becket died, Catherine called her and Spike to tell them something her father had done, with her blessing.  He had looked at the small family as his own, being that they been together for such a long time.  So, upon his death, he had actually left half of his wealth to them, and the other to Catherine.  To say they were stunned was an understatement.  They had suddenly gone from having no money of their own, to being some of the richest people in the United States, and that was with only half.  Buffy tried to tell Catherine they couldn’t accept that, but she had insisted that had been what her father wanted.

 

That had explained the nice new car that had been waiting for them at the Sunnydale Airport a few hours ago, once again, Catherine’s doing.  If it were up to Spike, they would have gone and retrieved his car from storage, but this one was much nicer.  And, Buffy was not going to let him spray paint the window’s black, that was for sure.

 

They finally came to a stop in front of the house, and Buffy felt herself weaken.  The front porch light burned brightly, as a shadow moved behind the curtain.  Someone was home. 

 

But what if it wasn’t Joyce?  What if she had moved out?  What if she was going to be angry with Buffy for being gone so long without a word?  What if she gave her mother a heart attack?  What if Dylan gave her a heart attack?

 

“I can’t do this,” she said turning away from the house.

 

Spike rolled his eyes at her reaction.  “Bloody hell, woman.  You’ve done nothing for the past two years, but say you wanted to go home.  Well, here we are.  You’re not goin’ to chicken out on me now, are you, Slayer?”

 

“I just can’t do this, Spike,” she stated again.  “I mean, it’s been so long.  What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

 

“She’s your mum, Buffy,” he said more kindly.  He jerked his head towards the back seat, where Dylan was securely fastened.  “If it’d been the poppet here, would you want to see her?”

 

She began to pout slightly when she said, “I hate it when you make sense.”

 

His cocky grin returned as he told her, “Now, you can either get out of this car and march up to the door yourself, or I can drag you up there.  Either way, Joyce is goin’ to find out you’re back.”

 

“What about Dylan?”

 

They had agreed to tell Joyce and Dawn about Dylan and him that night, but were going to wait a little while before breaking it to the other Scoobies.  They would have enough to deal with considering Buffy’s sudden return, introducing her daughter, and the fact that their favorite neighbor-hood vampire now had a shiny new soul.  That alone would probably cause Giles’ head to spin.  Of course, the fact Spike was Dylan’s father would make his head explode.  Naturally, Spike wanted to see this, but Buffy had threatened physical harm if he didn’t keep his mouth shut for the time being.

 

“I’ll hold back with her for a bit, let you and your mum do the whole catchin’ up bit,” he said, as he opened the back door and pulled the child out of the car seat. 

 

Buffy got out and looked at him over the roof as he held the baby close.  Dylan was now fascinated by the fact that her father’s hair had magically changed colors from the dark blond she had always been used to, to a shock white color.

 

“Well, go on, Summers,” he said, as if she were some sort of child.  “She won’t be judgin’ you or givin’ you disapprovin’ looks.  That won’t happen until after she meets Dylan.”

 

“Gee, thanks,” she said sarcastically.  Dylan giggled in her fathers’ arm.  “Don’t encourage him,” she warned her daughter before turning and heading up the path to the front door.

 

A thousand thoughts ran through her mind as she gathered all her courage and knocked gently on the door.  Just please, she begged, let her be glad to see me.

 

A shuffling came towards the door and then she heard her mother laughing as she said, “What is it, Anya?”

 

The door swung fully opened, and mother and daughter found themselves staring at one another.  Joyce’s face was locked in shock as the color began to drain away.  For a moment, Buffy thought that her mother might faint.  Quickly, she thought of anything to say.

 

“Hi, Mom,” she said in a small voice, it being the only thing she could think of.  Her mother just continued to look at her, and, for a moment, it reminded her of when she had runaway as a teen. When several minutes had passed, and neither had said a word, Buffy asked, “Can we come in?”

 

Joyce’s face suddenly became stern and sad.  “No.”

 

Buffy couldn’t hide her surprise and hurt at the answer.  They couldn’t come in?  “Why?” she squeaked out.

 

Her mother gathered all her strength and she said, “Because you wouldn’t have wanted me to.”

 

“Wouldn’t have wanted you…” she said slowly before she realized what her mother thought.  “You think I’m a vampire?” she said in a laugh before she looked over her shoulder at Spike.  “She thinks I’m a vampire.”

 

Joyce face rang with confusion at her daughters’ mirth.  Buffy then moved forward, and stepped through the door. 

 

“See, still a no-need on the invite.  And the heart beat,” she reached down and placed her mothers’ hand over her heart, “is still going strong.”

 

The older woman’s eyes grew wide and watery as her breathing became slightly labored and she felt her daughter to be sure she was real.  “Buffy?” she said breathlessly, as she touched ever inch of her daughter’s face.  “Is it really you?”

 

She felt her own tears starting to swell as a relieved smile crossed her face.  “Yeah.  It is.”

 

Joyce jerked her daughter into a tight bear hug that would have crushed anyone but the slayer.  She was sobbing as she held her, and Buffy realized she was as well.

 

“I knew they were wrong,” she cried into Buffy’s ear.  “I’m sorry I ever believed them.”

 

“Believed who?” the young woman asked, as she pulled away, her mother wiping the stream of tears from her own face.

 

“It’s not important now,” she said, pushing a stray hair from her daughter’s face, then straitened up as if she remembered something.  “Oh, I need to call Rupert and the others, and let them know you’re back.  They’ll be so happy to see you.”

 

Joyce turned to head for the phone when Buffy caught her.  “Mom, before you do, there’s something I need to tell you.”

 

“Like what, honey?”

 

“Um,” she said, glancing nervously back over her shoulder at Spike, who stood under the tree, silently holding Dylan.

 

Joyce looked past her daughter at what she was looking at and jerked slightly in surprise.  “Spike.”

 

“Hello, Joyce,” he said coming up the stairs. 

 

That was when she noticed the baby in his arms.  Joyce looked to him for answers, but Buffy quickly took the child from him. Dylan instantly shrunk back to the safety of her mothers’ arms, trying to decide who exactly this stranger was.

 

“Um, Mom, this is Dylan,” she said bouncing the baby up for a better grip.  “My daughter.”

 

Buffy watched her mother look from the baby in her arms and then to her own daughter, her mouth hanging ever so slightly opened.  Then, the older woman blinked hard once, and fell to the floor unconscious.

 

******

 

“So, let me see if I understand this,” Joyce said, sitting in the chair next to the couch, where both Buffy and Spike were seated. A damp wash cloth they had given her upon her regaining consciousness flung loosely in her grip while she moved her arms to illustrate her question. “You two have been over in Asia and Europe this whole time?”

 

“Yeah,” Buffy answered.  “Trying to get away from this Dr. Lang who took us in the first place.”

 

“But she’s dead now?”

 

“Yup.  Dead as in not coming back, do not pass go or collect two hundred dollars, dead.”

 

“A friend of ours put a hole about this size in her stomach,” Spike said, holding his hands together to illustrate.  “Unless she made a pact with the devil, we won’t be seein’ her again.”

 

“And she was after all three of you, but mainly wanted Dylan?” Joyce stated more then asked.  The two nodded, as Dylan cooed in her mothers lap at being mentioned.  “Why?”

 

She watched her daughter and Spike exchanged a look.  Apparently why was a very big question, and was going to hit her pretty hard.  The older blonde woman looked down at the baby in Buffy’s arms, her face softening at the sight.  That was her granddaughter, her baby’s baby.  Why would anyone want to hurt her?

 

Buffy dropped her head away from Spikes’ gaze, and turned back to her mother.  “That was something I wanted to tell you first.  See, Dylan’s-”

 

“I’m back!” Dawn called as she came through the front door.  “And whose car is that out front?”

 

The teenager froze in the door of the living room, staring at the young woman who sat on the couch.  Joyce looked from one child to the other, then slowly stood when Buffy did, and Spike followed, as well.

 

Buffy handed Dylan over to her mother, but Dawn was too transfixed on her sister to even notice the child she had been holding.  For a moment, Joyce had thought that the child would erupt into screams from being given to a stranger.  Instead, she just began to study Joyce, with her deep blue eyes.  Those piercing blue eyes that seemed somewhat familiar.

 

“Buffy?” her youngest had to force out from shock.

 

“Hey, Dawn,” Buffy answered lowly like when she had first spoken to her mother.

 

Then teen stood there for a moment, then launched herself across the room in her sister’s arms.  The thought that she might be a vampire never crossed her mind as she held her sister and began to cry.

 

“I thought you were dead,” she sobbed, just like her mother had.  Dawn quickly gained control of herself and pulled away from her sister as the questions emerged.  “Where did you go?  Why were you gone so long?  Did you go on an adventure?  What happened?  Tell me everything.”

 

“We will,” Buffy promised.

 

“We?” Dawn said slightly confused then turned to see the vampire who was standing directly beside her, but she had been to busy to notice.  She then squealed, “Spike!”

 

“Wow, hey, watch it, Nibs,” he said as she locked her arms around his neck and he looked awkwardly for instructions of what to do.  Joyce couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could Buffy.

 

“Where have you been?  And why didn’t you say anything about leaving?  Did you find Buffy?” Dawn started in, but her sister decided to stop her before she got too far.

 

“Dawn,” she said, turning to her mother and taking Dylan from her arms.  “There’s someone here I’d like you to meet. Dawn, this is Dylan.  Dylan, this is your Aunt Dawn.”

 

Her sister’s eyes widen even more, if it were possible.  “Aunt Dawn?  You mean, she’s...”

 

“Yup,” Buffy said proudly of her little girl.  “Got the stretch marks and everything to prove it.”

 

Joyce’s youngest was basically beaming at this point.  In five minutes, not only had she gotten her sister back from the dead, but one of her best friends had come home, and she now had a brand new niece that she had known nothing about.  Joyce thought that Dawn looked like she might actually burst with happiness.

 

“Can I hold her?”

 

“Sure,” Buffy said handing the child over to her. 

 

Unlike when she had first meet Joyce, Dylan didn’t seem the least bit shy of Dawn.  In fact, she took right to her.

 

“You might want to pull your hair back,” Buffy warned as Dawn took the child.  “She has a thing about pulling when she gets a hold of it.”

 

Dawn smiled brightly at the child in her arms, who, like her mother had warned, now had a handful of the teens long, brown hair, and showed no signs of letting go.  The fifteen-year-old looked up at her sister and said, “Anya never lets me hold Jessie.”

 

“Jessie?” Buffy asked as she turned to Joyce, who felt the color drain from her face at the mention of the name.

 

“Oh,” she said, charging up the stairs and into her bedroom where she had left the bassinet.  Much to her relief, the child was still fast asleep, and only stirred when she picked up the old bassinet and started to carry it back down stairs.  Spike spotted her half way down, and hurried to help her as Buffy came to see what she was bringing.  Upon her instructions, Spike gently placed it on the coffee table and Joyce said in a loud whisper, “This is Jessie, Anya and Xander’s daughter.”

 

“Anya and Xander’s daughter?  Wow,” Buffy said, flopping down on the couch.  “A lot has changed since I’ve been gone.”

 

“Well, I guess it just proves one thing.  You can keep apocalypses away and stop the world from bein’ sucked into hell, but you can’t keep a Harris from reproducin’,” Spike said as he shook his head.  Buffy gave him an icy glare, but Joyce could see the starts of a small smile on the corner of her lips.

 

“Hey, they’re pretty close in age,” Dawn observed about the two children.  “I wonder if they’ll like be best friends or something.”

 

“Over my dead body,” Spike spat out.

 

“Good, cause you’re already dead,” Buffy pointed out, which caused Dawn to giggle before she went back to cooing over her new niece.

 

“You are just the cutest baby.  Yes you are.  With that prefect little nose and those beautiful blue eyes.  Way bluer then mine.  Your daddy must have some pretty amazing blue eyes.”

 

“He does,” Buffy answered almost nervously.  “Mom, would you please sit down?”

 

Joyce did as she asked and Dawn followed.  Spike looked as if he didn’t know if he wanted to be there or not, which made Joyce all the more antsy about what her daughter was about to tell them.

 

“This goes back to what I was telling you earlier,” she said point blank to her mother.  “About why Lang was after Dylan.  You see, she’s very special.  I mean, she was already very special, but she’s special in another way.  No, not like ‘special ed’ special, I mean, special different special.”

 

“You’re babblin’, Slayer,” Spike put in, earning him another glare.

 

“Alright, here’s the deal.  Dylan’s what’s known as a dampener.”

 

Joyce and Dawn exchanged a confused look as Spike rolled his eyes.

 

“Damphyr,” he corrected.

 

“Right, a damphyr.”

 

“What’s that?” Dawn asked cautiously.

 

“It’s sort of like a hybrid.  You see, Dylan’s half...vampire.”  Joyce felt her eyes widen and Buffy quickly added, “Spike’s her father.”

 

The middle age woman felt herself shock beyond words at this news, but Dawn...

 

“No way!” she said happily as she got to her feet, turning from her sister, to Spike, back to her sister.  Buffy and Spike exchanged a look, and that was all she needed for conformation.  “No way!  Oh my...” At Spike. “You and my sister?!”  At Buffy.  “You and him!  Oh, this is so great.  I have to call Tara.”

 

“Dawn, wait,” Buffy said, stopping her sister before she could make it out of the living room, still carrying Dylan along with her.  “I need you to promise me something.  You can’t tell anyone about this.  Not yet.”

 

“But-”

 

“Dawn, please.  It’s important.”

 

Her face fell slightly, but she seemed to understand.  “Well, okay.  But you’ve got to tell them soon.  I don’t know how long I can keep my mouth shut about something like this.”

 

Buffy smiled and shook her head, then turned back to the still stunned Joyce.  As her oldest approached her, she heard Dawn as she looked at Spike, then at Dylan, and said again, “No way!”

 

“Mom,” Buffy said gently bending down in front of her and taking her hands.  “Are you okay?”

 

“Vampire?” she finally managed to push out.  “And Spike?”

 

Joyce was focused in on the floor, and felt Buffy tighten her grip around her hands.  “Mom, look at me.”

 

Slowly, she complied.  “A vampire, Buffy?”

 

“She’s not a vampire, Mom,” Buffy quickly interjected.  “She can go outside in the sun and crosses and holy water do nothing to her and she has a heartbeat and everything.  She’s a normal little girl, Mom.  She just doesn’t have normal parents.”

 

Even with the news that her new granddaughter was as normal as any other child, Joyce still couldn’t help but feel as if maybe her daughter was just deluding herself into believing such things. “Buffy, we have to tell Rupert.  See how this happened.”

 

“We already know, Mom.”  Joyce was about to beg her daughter for answers, but Buffy raised her hand.  “And I’ll tell you, but later.  I think you’ve had your quota of shocks to the ticker for one day.”

 

“But, Buffy-”

 

“Please, Mom.  I’ll tell everyone everything, just not tonight.”

 

Joyce searched her daughter’s face, but then slowly nodded her head.  “Alright.”

 

Buffy smiled tightly at her, and then kissed her on the cheek.  “Thank you.  And I do want you to call Giles over and everyone else.  You know, let everyone know I’m back.”

 

“We can tell them to meet us at the shop,” Dawn offered.  “You know ‘cause I think Mom kind of needs some time to herself.”

 

Joyce would have normally argued that she was fine, but her youngest was right.  She did need time for this one.  Right now, what she needed was a really big Tylenol and bed.

 

---

 

Part 2: Remember Me

 

It was one thirty in the morning when Dawn had called for an emergency meeting of the Scoobies, and Giles could think of nothing that would warrant such a thing.  Unless, of course, Glory had somehow broken free of the Shadow World.  That simple thought had put a rush on his getting ready and heading for the shop. Giles rubbed at his eyes, as he walked into the brightly lit magic shop, already filled with the rest of the Scooby gang.

 

Tara sat at the table, still dressed in her pajamas, and Xander and Anya stood at the counter, oohing and ahhing over their daughter.  The young witch stood up upon seeing Giles, and walked over to him quickly.

 

“Do you know what this is about?” she asked him hopefully.

 

“Unfortunately, no.  I was hoping that you all might.”

 

“Nope, not a clue,” Xander said walking towards the two.  “All we know is Joyce told us to come to the Magic Box when we went to pick up Jessie.  She looked kind of pale though.  Like she’d seen a ghost or something.”

 

“See, I always told you that you were something,” Dawn said from the training room door.  The teen came into the main area, and a familiar blonde emerged from the back, staring a hole in the back of her sister’s head.

 

“Am not,” she told her walking out into the light.  She shrunk back to herself when she saw the way they were looking at her.  “Hey, guys.”

 

A pale Xander stepped forward first, his face locked in permanent shock and he began to examine her.  Slowly, he reached up and touched her forehead, as if he were afraid she was some sort of hallucination that would fade away.  When he found skin, he pushed a little harder on the second time, and even harder on the third.

 

“Hey, with the poking,” Buffy said stepping back from him.

 

“Buffy?” he gasped.

 

“Oh, dear Lord,” was all Giles could sputter.

 

“Told you it was more fun to scare the hell out of them.” Dawn smiled brightly from her perch on the stairs.

 

“Yeah, and you were so much better,” Buffy answered, with a play scolding look.  “And don’t use that kind of language.”

 

“Okay, Mom,” the teen said.

 

“Are you a vampire?” Anya asked bluntly, acting as if she were unafraid even if she were.

 

“What?  No,” Buffy answered.  “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

 

“Nope, she’s among the living,” Dawn agreed.  “Saw her doing her hair in the mirror and everything before we got here.”

 

“Oh,” Anya said, as she picked up her baby and walked past the still frozen Xander to her.  “I’m glad you’re not dead.”  She turned to Xander.  “Can we go home now?  I’m tired.”

 

“Buffy,” he said again, still horse as ever.

 

“Yeah?” she said cautiously.

 

His eyes scanned up and down her form, then he launched himself at her and grabbed as tightly as possible.  She was surprised by his actions, but seemed to understand and let him hold her for a few minutes. “Um, Xander, breathing kinda becoming an issue.”

 

He finally pulled away from her, and just stared at her in the face.  “I-I can’t believe...”

 

“Well, I’m really here,” she told him with a kind smile.  “And I’m not going anywhere, for a long time.”

 

“But-but where have you been?!  I mean, we thought you’d be singing a hundred bottles of beer on the wall in Davy Jones’ Locker!  But you’re here, and not there, and-and-and-“

 

“Xander, maybe you want to try breathing before you pass out,” she suggested.

 

“Yeah, breathing good,” the young man said to himself.

 

“But, Buffy, where were you?” Tara asked in a cautious kindness like only she could.

 

“Yes, people just don’t come back from the dead,” Anya added.  “Well, unless they’re vampires, but you’re not, so it has to be something else.  Oh!  I know, did you make a deal with Hades? Because I know he’s always looking for spirits of those wrongfully killed to be sent back to the world of the living and distribute justice.  No, it couldn’t be that, because then you would probably being trying to kill someone or something instead of standing here talking to us.  Unless he sent you here to kill one of us.  He didn’t, did he?”

 

“I was never dead!” the slayer spat at the babbling vengeance demon.

 

“Then where were you?” Xander asked.  “You didn’t runaway again, did you?” he continued, the tone clearly afraid that she might have.

 

“No,” she answered with a jerk of her head.

 

“Alright, that’s quite enough.  Give the poor girl some space to breath,” Giles heard himself say.

 

The other Scoobies finally realized that they had been crowding the returning slayer, and each backed away from ever so slowly.  Still, the watcher inside of Giles forced him to ask, “But, really, Buffy, where did you go?”

 

“It’s a long story, Giles,” she sighed.  The middle aged man watched as she looked down to the ground, and she looked as if she might start crying.

 

“Buffy?  Are you alright?” Tara asked gently, moving her hand towards her.

”No!  I mean, I come back and Anya calls me a vampire, Xander tries and kills me by squishing me to death, and now you’re all asking me a bunch of questions and not letting me answer any of them and I didn’t get so much as a hello!  And-and-and where the hell is Willow?!”

 

Giles blinked for a moment at the outburst.  Buffy was right.  She had returned, something that he had never expected her to do, and he hadn’t even greeted her before letting the Watcher take over.  His shoulders slumped as he sighed and thought, Sod the watcher.

 

“Oh, my darling girl,” he said pulling her into an embrace, much softer then the one Xander had crushed her with only minutes before.  She held onto him for what seemed like forever, before they pulled away. Giles could feel the tears threaten to spill over.  He could see hers were already falling, but these were happy ones from finally being properly greeted.

 

“Great, now you’ve got her cryin’ again,” a sharp British voice said from the doorway that both Dawn and Buffy had emerged from. 

 

No.  It couldn’t be.

 

Giles looked up to see the vampire he had long thought himself rid of standing there, his arms crossed as he stared at the watcher and Buffy standing directly across from him.  There was something different about him, but Giles just couldn’t put his finger on what.

 

“Oh, great,” Xander said throwing his hands up.  “What is this?  Good news, bad news?”

 

Spike glared at him for a moment and then turned to Dawn.  “Niblet, you mind...”

 

“Sure,” she said jumping off the stairs and going back into the training room before the vampire ventured into the shop more.

 

“He’s like a bad penny,” Xander said shaking his head.  “You know, with the turning up thing.”

 

Giles looked over and saw that both Tara and Anya were studying him.  They noticed something different, as well.  It was probably Anya’s demon connection that alerted her, and Tara’s extra sensory perception.  Giles decided the best way to play this was to be polite, even if he didn’t like the bleach blond.

 

“Spike,” he said almost kindly.  “When did you get back into town?”

 

He shrugged.  “A couple of hours ago, with the Slayer.”

 

Xander’s eyes grew wide as he whipped his head around to look at Buffy.  “You were with him?”

 

“I thought you seemed different,” Anya said to Spike.  “I just didn’t realize that it would come from sleeping with Buffy.”

 

The slayer’s eyes widened and Spike covered a laugh.

 

“I am not sleeping with him!” she exclaimed, horrified at the idea.  He looked over at her, and raised his scarred eyebrow.  Buffy shrunk away from the look. Giles definitely didn’t like that.

 

“It’s not that,” Tara spoke up, studying the vampire even closer now.  When all eyes turned towards her, she shrunk away in embarrassment.  “It-it looks like he’s got a soul.”

 

Spike smiled at the witch, reached up, touched his nose, and pointed to Tara with his free hand, saying, “Kewpie doll for the lady.”

 

The three adults stared blankly at him.  Spike, William the Bloody, with a soul?

 

Xander was the first to say anything.  Turning to Buffy, he said, “How are you able to find the only souled vampires on the planet?”

 

“It’s a gift, I guess,” she answered almost sheepishly.

 

“But, he didn’t have a soul when he left,” Tara pointed out.  “How did you get one now?  Another gypsy curse?”

 

“Chalk it up to my own stupidity,” he said, sitting down on the stairs that Dawn had been perched on moments before.  Giles could tell that he wanted a cigarette when he began to nervously play with his hands, but for some reason he held back.  The Watcher had never known Spike to be courteous, so there must be another reason as to why he was refraining from smoking in his shop.  “It’s a very long story, but the abridged version is I went to a demon, passed some trials of his, and got a wish.  Unfortunately for me, I worded my wish wrong, and instead got a new soul to show off.”

 

“Remarkable,” Giles said, now looking at the vampire as if he was some sort of new specimen to study.  “Are there any side effects or clauses we should be aware of?”

 

Spike smirked at him, knowing full well that he was going want to study him now that he knew he had a soul.  “None I know of.  From what I understand, this thing has set up permanent residency inside of me.”

 

He was talking about having a soul like it was some sort of parasite!  Did he realize what this meant?!  Vampires just didn’t go around and get souls.  There were probably prophecies that needed to found, information to look up.  Giles could literally feel the Watcher inside of him stirring awake.  From beside him, he could hear Buffy laugh.

 

“You’ve done it now, fang breath,” she told Spike crossing her arms.  “Giles got himself a new project, and he won’t stop until he knows everything.”

 

The vampire’s face fell slightly.  He looked at her and said lowly, “Please don’t call me a project, love.”

 

Something seemed to go off in Buffy’s head, and she regretted using the word.  She reached up and held herself, turning away from his gaze.  This was very odd.

 

A yelp came from the back room that Dawn had disappeared to, and, a second later, the teen emerged carrying a baby who was firmly pulling on her long, brown hair.

 

“Buffy, a little help,” she said trying to free her hair from the grip, but failing miserably.

 

The blonde went to her sister, finally being able to pry the little fingers open and taking the child before she had a chance to get a hold of the hair again.  The child’s attention was drawn away from the activity as she noticed all the eyes that were fixed on her.  The baby then sunk into closer to Buffy’s hold.  The slayer smiled sweetly at her, then turned back to her friends who, once again, were shocked into being speechless, except for Xander, who just didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

 

“Oi, you lot are scarin’ her,” Spike bit at them, jumping up from the stairs and heading towards Buffy and Dylan.  Buffy glanced over her shoulder at him, a pleading look on her face, which caused him to back down.  But the vampire’s eyes were still hard on the group that stood before them, warning them to back away or he would make them.

 

“She’s usually not this shy,” Buffy said, as she began to sway with her and ignored the bleached blond behind her.

 

“Hey, Buff.  Who’s the kid?” Xander asked.

 

“Her name’s Dylan,” she told him. 

 

“Is she yours?” Giles carefully.

 

Xander’s eyes went wide as he looked at the Watcher, then back at the Slayer.  “No.  Buffy’s kid?  That’s funny, G-man. Tell him, Buffy.”

 

Buffy suddenly became very interested in the child, holding her face close to hers, her lips barely pressed to her forehead.  The boy looked as if he had swallowed his tongue as he slowly began to accept the knowledge.

 

“I...think I need...to....sit down,” he said slowly sinking to the floor, and bracing himself against the counter.  Tara bent down next to him to make sure he was alright.  Anya approached her, her own child beginning to stir.

 

“My baby’s still prettier.  And smaller.”

 

Buffy just smiled, shook her head, and turned back to Giles.  He could see that she wanted him to say anything about the fact that she was now a mother, but he just couldn’t find his voice.  This was all too much for one night.  Buffy’s return, Spike being with her, him being ensouled, and now a baby.  Suddenly, joining Xander on the floor didn’t seem to be such a bad idea.

 

“Giles, say something,” she said in a pleading voice.

 

His senses started to snap back to him.  Her face was contorted to where she looked as if she were afraid that he would send her away, disgusted at what she had done.  He had almost forgotten how much she looked up to him as a father.  Now, that same girl was holding a daughter of her own, asking him for some sort approval.  A kind smile slowly emerged on his face.

 

“Congratulations, Buffy,” he said reaching out and gently touching her cheek.

 

Her face brighten so much that he thought that it could illuminate the room if he turned off the lights.  With that one word, he had lifted a ton of weight off her shoulders.

 

“Thank you,” she said holding the baby even closer to her, knowing now Dylan would have a Grandpa Giles.  The slayer blinked after a moment, then asked again, “But, really, guys, where is Willow?” 

 

---

 

Part 3: Daddy

 

“Swayer!” Dylan chirped happily from her high chair, a bowl of cereal turned over and spread out on the tray before her.  “Swayer! Swayer! Swayer!”

 

Buffy shook her head at the small child, her hand up over her eyes as if she couldn’t see her, then maybe Dylan would stop calling her that.  Shortly after they had come back to Sunnydale, the child had started to speak, simple words and usually incorrectly, but it was speech nonetheless.  In fact, she had turned into a parrot as of late, repeating any words that were easy enough for her to pronounce.

 

Buffy had spent a better part of a day trying to get her to say Mommy, but Dylan wasn’t having any of that.  She would just cock her head slightly to the side and stare at her with those big, bewildering blue eyes as if she had sprung another head. 

 

When she did that, Buffy couldn’t help but wonder how none of her friends had noticed how much she actually looked like Spike, though she had a sneaking suspicion that Tara knew.  After that first night, whenever the witch was around both Dylan and Spike, she would look from one to another, as if she were comparing features.  The slayer had some ideas that a certain blabber-mouth sister of hers might have had something to do with that, but, if Tara did know, she was keeping the knowledge to herself. 

 

She also didn’t think it would be long before Giles would at least start to suspect something.  He was already trying to find an in to grill her about the father and his ‘lack’ of participation in the child’s life.  He once had said something about it when Spike had been at the Magic Box, answering his questions about his new soul, and Buffy had heard the vampire growl lowly and give the Watcher icy stares from behind his back.  With a simple look, Buffy had been able to shut him up, but Giles was no idiot.  He knew that they were sharing some sort of secret, but he just wasn’t sure of what.

 

Anya was blissfully unaware of anything not having to do with the Magic Box, Xander, or Jessie.  If the topic of conversation didn’t concern any of them, she would simply ignore it.  And Xander, well....Xander basically had lived on the river of Denial and was receiving his mail there.

 

Buffy sighed as she bent down in front of the child, picked up the disregarded bowl and began to put the cereal back inside.  “Mommy, Dylan,” she corrected, going about the task.  “I’m Mommy, not Slayer.”

 

She could kill Spike for calling her that now.  After all her efforts to get the child to call her Mommy, he had come in her home that afternoon, picked the child up, and then had said something to Buffy about patrolling, but he called her slayer.  Now apparently Dylan thought that was what she was suppose to call her, too.

 

“Swayer,” she giggled again at her mother’s aggravation.  She was so Spike’s kid, it wasn’t even funny.

 

Buffy groaned as she stood up and took the bowl over to the sink to be cleaned with the other dirty dishes from the day’s worth of cooking her mother had been doing.  It was Thanksgiving, and dinner at the Summers’ household was to start at seven sharp, with the whole gang there to celebrate the holiday with the two newest members.  Of course, by seven Dylan would be a little ball of energy, not really caring if the grown-ups wanted to have a nice meal or not.  Well, she had volunteered Dawn to ‘corral’ the child, which she seemed to be so good at.  Her sister didn’t mind, but just wait until the teen was in the middle of her meal and she would have to go chase down the child who was an escape artist when it came to high chairs and baby pens.  And Dylan never walked; she ran, and ran fast.  Even Buffy had trouble keeping up with her sometimes without breaking into slayer speed.  This was definitely a Thanksgiving Dawn wasn’t going to forget for a long time.

 

Buffy couldn’t even remember where she had spent last Thanksgiving-was it Israel or Greece?-but she would have never dreamed that she would be spending the next one at home in Sunnydale, with her family and friends.  The very thought brought a smile to her face.  Lost in her own thoughts, Buffy didn’t hear the front door open and shut, and jumped a little in surprise when her mother walked into the kitchen carrying two large bags of groceries.

 

“Hi, Honey,” she said with a large smile laying the bags on the island.

 

“Gran!” Dylan squealed from her chair when she saw Joyce. 

 

The middle age woman looked over at the child, her face warm at the word that Dylan had learned would make the kind woman smile at her.  They both knew the child would have no idea what it meant until she was older, but she liked it none the less.

 

“And how’s my precious granddaughter?  Being good for her Mommy?” she asked bending over and kissing the child’s head that was covered in light blonde hair.

 

“Swayer!” Dylan corrected.

 

Joyce laughed quietly to herself as Buffy groaned even louder.  “Still can’t get her to stop calling you that hum?” her mother asked in a sympathetic tone when she walked over to the oven to check on the turkey.

 

“No,” Buffy sighed, finishing the last dish and then picking the child up from the high chair.  “And I think she does it because she knows it aggravates me.”

 

Her mother chuckled even louder than before as she took the lid off the turkey pan, surveyed the bird, then slid it back inside the oven.  “Don’t worry so much about it, Honey.  When you were her age, you called everyone Hank.  It was the only word you could say,” she said, smiling at the memory.  “And Dawn could only say broom.”

 

“Well, Dylan can say a lot of words, and I think she could say Mommy if she wanted to,” her daughter answered, bouncing the child on her side.  “Do you know Dawn actually got her to say Aunt Dawn the other day? Two words, and she said it crystal clear.  Now you can’t tell me she can’t say Mommy.”

 

“She will,” Joyce reassured.  “And she’ll be speaking in complete sentences before you know it.  At the rate she’s going, she’s going to be a real chatter box and we’ll never get her to be quiet.”

 

“Just like your Daddy, huh, Dylan,” Buffy said to the child.

 

Joyce’s face fell slightly from the mention of him.  They had been home for nearly two months now, and Buffy still hadn’t told her everything that had happened like she had promised she would.  She hadn’t even told the others about him yet, though she could see it was starting to wear on him, on all of them. 

 

“Speaking of which, what time did Spike say he would be here?” Joyce asked as she turned around so her daughter wouldn’t see her face.

 

“In a little while,” Buffy answered, still keeping her attention on her child, though she noticed her mother’s movements.  After a few moments of silence, she said, “You’re wondering about when I’m going to tell them, aren’t you?”

 

“Did I say anything?” Joyce asked, in a tone that clearly stated that was what she was wondering about.

 

“Mom, we’ve been over this...”

 

“I know.  It’s just-Buffy, how long do you think you can keep it a secret?  Dylan is talking now, and it’s not like you can tell her to keep quiet about who her father is.”

 

“I know.  I know.  But, I just....That is I don’t....I don’t know how to tell them, Mom.  I mean, it was hard enough telling you and Dawn.  Giles is going to blow a fuse when he finds out.  And Xander...I don’t even want to think about Xander.  I would kind of like my child to be able to remember her father being something other then a big pile of dust in a Shot Vac.”

 

“No one said telling them was going to be easy, Buffy.  But you knew when you came back that you would have to eventually.”

 

The blonde dropped her head slightly knowing what her mother was telling her was true.  She didn’t want Dylan to be ashamed of who she is, but still, the thought of telling them scared her to death.  Why couldn’t she just face a good old apocalypse?  That would have been a lot easier.

 

“Soon, Mom.  I swear I’ll tell them soon,” she said quietly.

 

********

 

Dawn couldn’t help but wonder how a kid with such short legs could be so fast.  She had come downstairs to help her mother and sister a few minutes before, and apparently was now on the clock in baby-sitting Dylan.  In less than a minute, the child had wormed her way out of Giles’ grip, and was now making a mad dash for the dinning room where Buffy and Joyce were working to get ready. With Giles and Dawn in tow, Dylan giggled wildly, like she often did, as she started to round the table, passed Joyce and ran straight at her mother.  With her quick reflexes, Buffy put the platter she was holding down on the table, and scooped up the child before she passed her.

 

The child struggled in Buffy’s grip when Dawn and Giles jogged to a slow stop in front of her.  “I thought I told you to watch her,” she said in annoyed tone, handing Dylan back over to her sister.

 

Dawn sighed as she shifted the child’s weight for a better grip.  “Don’t blame me on this one.  It was all Giles’ here.  He’s the one that let her go.”

 

“I didn’t think she could get away so fast,” Giles defended.  “You didn’t tell me she could move like that.”

 

“Yeah, well, now you know,” Dawn said moving past her sister and heading back into the living room.  “We have one very important rule in the house.  When you’re watching Dylan, you watch Dylan.”

 

“Yes, well, I’m sorry I did not realize an eleven-month-old could qualify for the Olympics,” he said dryly as he followed her back into the living room, where Tara sat on the couch, holding Dylan’s stuffed dog nervously.

 

“Should children be able to move that fast so young?” she asked quietly. Giles sat down in the arm chair and Dylan and Dawn rested beside the witch.

 

“No, it is very unusual, but should be expected with Buffy being her mother,” he explained, leaning back and making himself more comfortable after the chase.  “We can probably look forward to Dylan being able to do a lot of things that children her age shouldn’t be able to do.  Her grasp of speech is an example of that.  It shows real intelligence.”

 

“Yeah, she’s already way smarter than Buffy,” Dawn said with an evil grin.  “No matter what Buffy does, she somehow manages to unlock that baby crib whenever she wants to.  She’s a regular Houdini when it comes to stuff like that.”

 

The girl struggled in Dawn’s grasp, doing her best to slide back down on the floor to where she could stand again.  The teen did her best to keep her in her lap, but Dylan did not want to be held, she wanted to be able to walk around and get under everyone’s feet.  Dawn looked to Tara for any sort of help she might provide, and the witch held up the dog she had been holding.

 

“Dylan,” she said softly, getting the child’s attention.  “You want your dog?”

 

“Willow!” the baby answered, reaching out of the stuffed animal.

 

Tara’s eyes widened and her face paled at the name.  Dawn’s face also paled as she reached up covered her mouth.  “W-what did s-she say?” the blonde asked, stuttering even more at the mention of the other girl.

 

“Oh, Tara, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you,” the teen said, before she reached over and took the dog and gave it to the fussy child.  “Dylan, she, um, kind of named her dog that.  We don’t know where it came from, honest.  Me and Mom and Buffy were like all blown away the other day when she started to cry for Willow.  Just right out of the blue like that.  I’m so sorry, Tara.  I should have told you.”

 

“It’s alright, Dawn,” she tried to the sooth the babbling girl.  “Just took me by surprise is all.”

 

“Tara!” Dylan said brightly, clinging onto the animal for dear life.

 

Thankful for the distraction, Dawn held her close and whispered to her, “That’s right.  That’s Tara.  And who’s that man over there?”

 

Dylan studied Giles for a moment and smiled as the answer came to her.  “Giz!”

 

“Giles,” he corrected.

 

“Would you rather go back to Stalker?” Dawn asked with a grin.  A few days ago, Dylan had tried to call Giles by Watcher, like Spike often did, and failed miserably.

 

“Giz is fine,” he said deadpan, remembering the look on the woman’s face in the Magic Shop when the child had called him that.

 

Both Tara and Dawn giggled at the memory, when the front door opened and Xander and his family appeared.

 

“We’re here,” he called playfully as they entered. 

 

The young man was carrying a dessert; and, while balancing it in one hand, helped Anya with her coat as she did her best to balance her eight-month-old on one side of her body, and slide the coat off the other.  By the time he had successfully gotten it off, Buffy had appeared from the dinning room to give them a proper welcome.

 

“Hey, guys,” she said with a large smile.

 

“Hey, Buffster,” the young man answered, giving her a small kiss on the cheek.  “Happy Thanksgiving.”

 

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Buffy answered before looking back at Anya and Jessie.  Anya looked as if she didn’t know quite what to say, so she said, “Hi.  We brought pie.”

 

Buffy shook her head slightly, wondering exactly where that had come from, then said, “Pie’s good.”  She then saw the dessert in Xander’s hand and took it from him.  “Here, I’ll put it back in the kitchen with the others.”

 

When she disappeared back through the dinning room, Anya reared back and hit Xander lightly in the chest.  He winced for a moment, as she explained, “I told you they would have pie already.”

 

Xander shook his head at his wife and walked into the living room where the others were still seated.  He stood at the side of the couch where Tara and Dawn were seated, as Anya came into the living room and looked pointedly at Giles, as if she expected him to give up the arm chair for her.  She just stood there over him, holding the baby at her side like Buffy often did with Dylan, waiting for him to move.  After several seconds, he grumbled something about going and checking on Buffy and Joyce, got up, and let the now happy ex-vengeance take the seat with her daughter.  Her husband had made a point of ignoring the situation while Giles gave him a look, but went to rest against one of the walls instead of doing as he said. 

 

“So, how’s my favorite Summers girls?” Xander asked.

 

“Doing good,” Dawn answered holding the child close to her.  “I think Dylan’s training for a marathon or something like that, but good.”

 

“She is a fast little bugger,” he agreed, not even realize he had picked up the word from Giles, or perhaps even Spike.  “Buffy gave her to me to watch the other day, and she was like all over the house in no time.”

 

“Yes,” Anya said.  “It was amusing to watch him run after her, and he was unable to keep up.”

 

“You could have helped, you know,” Xander pointed out.

 

“But I was tending to our own child. You were the one who volunteered to watch someone else’s,” she told him, before returning to cooing over Jessie.  That kid was going to be so spoiled.

 

“Here, let me see her,” Xander said reaching for Dylan.  Still clinging to her dog, she looked at the person who held her strangely, as if she almost didn’t remember who he was.  Like everyone else, he got a kick out of hearing her call him by his name, which she usually pronounced as Xaner or Ander, but she was trying.  “Hey, Dylan.  Who am I?” he asked.

 

She cocked her head to the side like a bird and studied him for a moment like she had Giles, her little mouth dropped open slightly.  When she still hadn’t answered in after several moments had passed, he said, “Xannnnn?”

 

“Xaner!” she said happily, finally connecting to what he wanted to call him.  He was about to congratulate her on remembering, when she shouted, “Whelp!”

 

Dawn barely managed to bite back a laugh, as Xander looked horrified and the others surprised.  He turned to Dawn, his cheek slightly red, and said, “I’m guessing a certain bleach blond blood sucker’s been hanging around.”

 

“Could be worse,” Dawn said, not hiding the tight smile on her face.  “She could have called you Stalker like she did Giles the other day.”

 

*******

 

Buffy stood in the kitchen, slicing the final carrot for the giant bowl of salad that her mother was making, when the back door opened.  She glanced over at the back door to find the blond vampire coming in, a large brown bag tucked safely into his grip.  Even though she had told him it was supposed to be more of a formal family gathering, in other words come nicely dressed, he had still shown up in his black jeans, matching t-shirt, and that black duster.  Some things would never change, she guessed.

 

“’ello, love,” Spike said coming inside, the duster swirling around him like a cape.

 

 “You’re late,” was Buffy’s greeting.  She was trying to sound annoyed with him, but she was glad that he had finally got there.  At least now she would have someone to talk to who she didn’t feel she had to hold back on anything, like she did with the others.  “Did you bring the wine like I asked?”

 

“Of course, pet,” he said with his cocky little grin, putting the brown bag on the counter next to her.

 

“And it isn’t that box wine stuff, right?” she asked suspiciously with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Why?  It’s not like anyone but the Watcher would notice.”

 

“Spike.”

 

He reached into the bag and pulled out a large, dark green bottle with a label in French for his answer.  For some reason she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe it was that box wine he had just poured into some old bottle, but she wouldn’t say anything if it were.  Just blame it on a bad year or something.

 

“Swayer!” a tiny voice rang in through the door to living room.

 

Spike bit back at a smile, but not very well, as Buffy sighed.  “I could kill you for teaching her that,” she scolded, pointing the sharp end of the knife at him as if it were her finger.

 

“How was I suppose to know she’d like that better then Mommy?” he asked not holding back his amusement of the situation.

 

“Because she’s your daughter,” she sneered.

 

“WHAT?!”

 

Buffy froze as she still faced the bleach blond that looked as if he didn’t know whether to run or laugh.  She knew who the voice belonged to, and she was silently praying that maybe if she just focused on Spike long enough, she would have only imagined him saying that word.  But the air was thick and charged, and she knew no matter how much she wished she had only dreamed him hearing it, that Xander Harris was now in on her little secret.

 

With a pale, white face, she slowly turned towards the door between the living room and kitchen and found her best friend standing there.  His jaw was dropped as low as humanly possible, and she had no idea that eyes could bulge out that much.  He looked as if he had swallowed his own tongue as he stared at her, his eyes pleading with her to have just been kidding.  When she had no answer for him, he turned back into the living room still dazed.

 

“Xander?” Dawn asked from the couch, bouncing Dylan in her lap.  “What’s the matter?”

 

“Yes, you look like you did when I told you I was pregnant,” Anya added, holding her own child. Jessie wiggled in her mother’s arms at being mentioned, but the ex-demon just shifted her and she calmed down quickly.

 

“Buffy….baby….bad,” he muttered as he shuffled over to his wife.

 

The slayer dropped the knife she had been using and raced after her friend before he could tell them what he had heard.  How they missed it was beyond her, but, from the conversation, they still didn’t know.  She knew she had to tell them now, but she wanted to be the one, not Xander.  Well, apparently soon came a lot faster then she had hoped.

 

“Xander,” Buffy called, hurrying after him with Spike close behind.

 

“Swayer!” Dylan called happily to her mother.  “Daddy!”

 

The room fell into a deafening silence.

 

---

 

Part 4: Family Holiday

 

Her whole life, Dawn had heard the expression ‘deer caught in a pair of headlights. ’ Now, since she was from LA, she hadn’t seen a whole lot of deer running in the wild to actually know what the expression was supposed to mean.  However, as she now looked at her sister and the vampire behind her, she had a pretty good idea what those poor animals must look like.  She would laugh, if she were not terrified of what her sister would do to her once she snapped out of it.  Not to mention what Xander and Giles would do to Spike when they are out from under the spell.

 

Buffy opened her mouth as if she were about to say something, only to let it fall closed again as she watched Giles closely.   The older man’s expression had not changed one bit. He just looked straight ahead at her, his face unchanging as if he had just been told that dinner was going to be a few minutes late instead of Dylan being Spike’s daughter.

 

“That’s who she reminds me of,” Anya said happily, as if her mind suddenly just connected the dots.  She turned to Xander, who looked paler then Spike ever did.  “See, I told you she looked like someone I knew.”

 

Now’s really not the time, Anya, Dawn thought to herself.  When the ex-vengeance demon looked at the teen, she wondered if she had actually said it aloud.

 

Joyce came in from the dinning room, a large smile on her face as she wiped her hands on a dish rag.  “Dinner’s ready,” she said before noticing the tension in the room.  “What’s going on?”

 

Dawn nervously looked around the room at the other adults, hoping that maybe one of them would offer the answer instead of it having to be her.  When she saw that wasn’t going to happen, she said the first thing that popped into her mind.

 

“Dylan blabbed,” the sixteen-year-old said quietly.

 

Her mother pushed her eyebrows together, forming a line right between her eyes. “What?”

 

“Dylan called Spike ‘Daddy,’” Anya clarified as if it had been nothing.  “So we can eat now?”

 

“Daughter!” Xander suddenly screamed as his speech came back to him.  “She said that Dylan was his daughter!”

 

“We know that, honey,” Anya said as she placed her free hand on his shoulder.

 

The teen looked over at Buffy, who hadn’t moved a single inch since entering the room.  She reminded Dawn of herself whenever she had gotten a bad mark on her report card and had to tell her mother, but this seemed to be far worse for Buffy, though Dawn didn’t know why.  Buffy was an adult, and could make her own decisions.  Besides, they all loved Dylan, why should it matter who her father is?

 

“Giles?” Buffy finally squeaked out.

 

The middle age man pushed away from the wall, reached for his glasses and began to clean them, hard.  That wasn’t good.  Giles only cleaned his glasses when really bad things were going to come.

 

As he continued to keep his eyes on the spectacles, he said in a very controlled voice, “Buffy, could I please speak to you and…Could I please speak with the both of you in the other room?”

 

Her sister swallowed hard. “Dawn, why don’t you take Dylan upstairs to get her cleaned up.”

 

“Right,” she said getting to her feet and all but ran to the stairs.

 

People usually pay good money to see the fight that was about to occur, but the teen found herself wanting to be anywhere but there right at that moment.  She just hoped that Spike made it out of there in one piece.

 

“And could you guys help her,” she added.

 

“Of course, Buffy,” Tara nodded in agreement as she started to follow the teen upstairs.

 

Joyce had to ‘lead’ both Xander and Anya towards the upper level, all the while Xander repeating, “I’m seeing flashing lights.  Does that mean I’m having a stroke?” 

 

Anya said following, “But I want to hear the fight.”

 

Her mother paused halfway up, and said softly, “Rupert.”

 

Giles gave her a tight, controlled smile.  “Don’t worry, Joyce.  I just want to speak to them, nothing else.”

 

Her shoulders dropped as she gave a sigh and then followed the others upstairs.

 

**********

 

She felt like a small child being led into the other room for a stern scolding followed by a spanking for some little thing she had done that she wasn’t supposed to.  There was no question that she loved Giles, but there were times where the man could make her feel like such a child. 

 

The three stood in the kitchen, Spike understandably close to the door in case he had to make a fast getaway from the Watcher.  They both knew that if Giles put his mind to it, he could do some real damage to the vampire, especially with it being so raw and fresh.  Just please don’t let him dust him, she begged silently.

 

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out,” Buffy heard herself say as she held her arms around her waist.  “But I guess it’s too late to change that.”

 

“So it’s true then,” Giles said calmly, though she knew the Ripper was flashing behind his eyes.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spike glance over at her, but she refused to look up at either one of them.  She didn’t know what would happen if she did.

 

“Yeah, Watcher,” he said for her.  “It’s true.”

 

The three remained silent for a moment as the information sunk in.  In a way, she felt better that they knew.  The secret was out, and there was no taking it back.  Now if they could just get over this part.

 

“Are you mad?” she asked quietly.

 

Giles drew in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then let it out slowly.  “I am not angry with you, Buffy,” he said pointedly to Spike.  “However, it does sadden me to think that you did not trust me enough to tell me something so important.”

 

“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you-“

 

“But you didn’t,” he bit a little colder then he intended. 

 

She shrunk away from the tone, and heard Spike growl lowly from it, though he refrained from saying anything.  It was a good thing he got that soul, else this could have been real messy.

 

“Buffy,” he said much more softly.  “You have to understand how this changes things.  Else you wouldn’t have kept it a secret.”

 

“Changes?” she repeated, finally looking up at the man.  “How does it change anything?  Dylan’s still the same little girl that you were playing with this afternoon.  Just because you found out that Spike’s her dad doesn’t mean she’s changed any.  He’s always been her dad.”

 

“It does change it,” he said firmly before trying to make her understand.  “Buffy, I didn’t call the Watcher’s Council about Dylan because she is your daughter.  I knew I should have because slayers don’t live long enough to have children; but you did, and you’re the first that I know of.  However, the fact that she’s a damphyr-they should know about that!”

 

“You can’t!”

 

“Watcher,” Spike growled at the same time. 

 

The older man stood there for a moment, looking as if he didn’t know what he was going to do.  For a last ditch effort, Buffy began to babble off anything that struck her mind as a reason for why he shouldn’t tell.  “Giles, please.  You can’t tell them!  We-we were under a spell, and there was this crazy scientist lady, Lang, and goons and-and I’m not really helping here for why you shouldn’t tell, but you can’t!  They’ll take her away!  Or worse!”

 

“Buffy,” Giles said, holding his hand up to try and calm her worries.  “I said they should, not that they will,” he clarified.

 

A faint smile of relief crossed her lips.  “Thank you, Giles.”

 

“I am going to want any information you have on how this might have happened,” he told them.

 

That cocky little grin returned to Spike lips as he said, “What?  You want to hear all about how I knocked the Slayer up good and proper?”

 

Giles jerked as if had been struck as Buffy hissed, “Spike!”

 

“Well, er, um, that w-won’t be, er,” he stuttered.

 

“Oh, look, pet.  I think I might have given him an aneurysm.”

 

“No, that would be Xander,” she told him as she crossed her arms.  “And you know, for a guy with a soul, you really are still a jerk.”

 

“Well, I told you from the beginnin’ that a soul wouldn’t make that much of a difference in me.  Didn’t I?” 

 

“Your ability to be a complete jackass is proof of that,” she bit back.  “Maybe you should have asked that demon for some people skills along with the soul.  Then maybe we could all stand you for more then five minutes at a time.”

 

“Ha bloody ha, Slayer,” he mocked.

 

Giles watched in amazement as the two playfully bickered with one another, forgetting all about the fact that he was still in the room.

 

**********

 

Buffy walked into the living room, when a small voice asked from above her, “Is it safe to come down now?”

 

She turned to find her sister and the others at the top of the stairs, waiting for the go ahead to come down.  The blonde nodded to them, who all hurried down the steps, Joyce heading straight for the dinning room to make sure everything was all right, as the girls gathered around their friend for information.  Xander still didn’t look as if he knew where he was, and she hoped he would stay that way for the rest of the night so she wouldn’t have to deal with him right at that moment.

 

“We don’t need to get the Dust Buster, do we?” Dawn asked with a very worried tone as Buffy took Dylan from her.

 

“No.  The kitchen is still a dust free zone.”

 

“Good, ‘cause that would really put a downer on the holiday,” the teen told her.

 

“How about you, Buffy?  You okay?”  Tara asked kindly as she placed her hand on her shoulder.

 

“I’m good,” she sighed as she adjusted her grip on the child.  “Already tired, but good.”

 

Tara gave her a warm smile, as Anya broke in, “So, was the sex any good?”

 

“Anya!” Xander said horrified, coming out of his comatose state at that point.  “The last thing I want to think about is-is-Oh, God!  It’s too late!”

 

He began to bang his head against the wall, but Anya gently pulled him away with one arm as she balanced Jessie in her other and led him towards the dinning room.  The eight-month-old watched her father curiously as he looked as if he might be sick right on Anya’s nice shoes.

 

“Honey, why don’t you ask Joyce for some nice wine or beer or whatever alcoholic drink they serve for this occasion while we talk.”

 

“Yeah.  Booze good, thinking bad,” he muttered as he went into the other room.

 

Buffy sighed deeply from within as she watched him go.  She had been right about it being hard to tell them, but, so far, they had taken it a lot better then she had thought.  For a moment, she thought Giles was about to go Ripper on them, but his age and wisdom had given him enough knowledge to know when to back off, or at least keep it to himself.  She was grateful for that.

 

“Sorry about that,” Anya apologized as she rejoined them.  “He just needs time to adjust to the news.  So, how was it?”

 

Buffy couldn’t resist rolling her eyes at her. “Anya, one, I am not going to discus this with my little sister standing right here.”

 

“Oh, come on, Buffy.  I’m sixteen, not six.  Besides, you think I don’t already know about this stuff?  I mean, hello.  I go to high school.”

 

“And two,” she continued, giving Dawn a look.  “I am so not going over that night again.”

 

Dawn began to pout at being left out of yet another adult conversation, but Anya just smiled.  “It must have really been something.”

 

Buffy drew her forehead into a strait line at her comment.  “How do you get ‘it must have really been something’ from ‘I don’t want to talk about’?”

 

“Because when you said your face began to flush,” she pointed out.

 

“Yeah, from embarrassment.”

 

“It wasn’t that kind of flush, Buffy,” the ex-demon told her causing the slayer to turn a very deep shade of red.

 

**********

 

Spike sat on the front porch after the meal, staring out into the dark street, as his tongue played with the sucker that was a poor substitute for his cigarettes.  What he wouldn’t give for one after this night.  It just went to prove that if you wanted to enjoy a holiday, never invite family or friends over to celebrate with you.  He could just imagine what Christmas was going to be like this year and who would be next to play ‘Let’s tell a big secret’. 

 

“What are you doing out here?” Buffy asked from the doorway.  “No, wait, let me guess.  You had to get away from all those people staring at you, right?”

 

“Same for you?” he asked as he popped the sucker out of his mouth and tossed it, having lost the taste for a cherry flavored Tootsie Pop.

 

“You know it.”

 

She pulled her new brown coat a little tighter around her body as she came over to the swing he occupied.  The tiny blonde sat down next to him, and fell into the rocking rhythm of the swing that he had set.  She looked like she was having about as much fun with this whole night as he was.

 

“You know, this reminds me a lot of that first Thanksgivin’ I spent with you lot,” he told her after a moment.  “Only, I think I would much rather be facin’ a horde of brassed off Indian spirits instead of havin’ the Watcher ‘talk’ to us again.”

 

“Yeah, only thing that’s missing is Angel showing up unannounced and trying to protect me without telling me,” she said dryly.  “But, hey, at least they didn’t try and stake you… yet.”

 

“That’s because the Whelp has drunk himself into a stupor and Rups hasn’t gotten me alone long enough to do it.”

 

She snorted. “Hey, you think this Thanksgiving is rough, you should go to my grandparents’ house when they host.  They make the Manson family look like the Brady Bunch.  Why else do you think Mom always holds our family holidays at our house?”

 

“Yes because here we get to have a nice, normal holiday with an ex-vengeance demon, her brick-layin’ husband, a witch, a teen, a Watcher, an art gallery owner, a slayer, a souled vampire, and their damphyr daughter.  That’s the definition of normal.”

 

She smacked him in his arm as she held a tight smile on her lips.  He watched as she laughed to herself, slowly shaking her head at his comment.  A stray blonde hair fell into her face and, without a second though, he reached over and pushed the offensive string back behind her ear with the others.  He held his hand there for a moment, cupping the side of her face as she smiled at him.

 

Ever so slowly, he bent down close to her face and then gently pressed his lips to hers.  It was a soft kiss, much softer then any that they had shared before.  Unlike the few they had had before, this one wasn’t full of lust like when Lang had done whatever it was she had done to them, or the happiness behind the one they had shared in the foyer in Madrid.  This one was an honest to God real kiss, one that people who loved each other shared.

 

God, he loved her so much it actually hurt sometimes, and she didn’t know.  How could she not know?  It had to be obvious.  Then, things are always obvious to other people.

 

She gently pulled away, but kept her forehead rested against his.  With her so close like this…he had to tell her.

 

“Buffy,” he said lowly, purposely using her name to let her know it was important.

 

She blinked her hazel eyes opened and looked up into his.  “Yeah?”

 

“There’s somethin’ you need to know.  I-“

 

She drew away from him sharply, surprising him since he hadn’t even told her yet.  But her eyes were locked on something coming towards them from down the street, and he turned to see what she was looking at.

 

There was a small figure coming towards them slowly.  It was really as much walking as it was shuffling, its shoulder length hair swinging around its lowered face. When it came closer, he could make it out that it was a woman, who was holding onto herself so tightly that it looked as if her life depended on it.  She wondered into the bright light set off by the porch, and both the vampire and slayer rose to their feet when they saw who it was.

 

“Willow,” Buffy said lowly before taking off for her friend.

 

The two were across the yard in a second flat, but Buffy had to cut her friend off for her to stop.  Red was in bad shape, he could tell by how thin her body was.  Her usually fire red hair had reverted back to the reddish brown from her youth, and looked as if it had not been treated in years.  It seemed to take all her strength to lift her head to look at her friend, who gasped when she saw her face.  The girl’s deep green eyes were sunk into her head and her lips were chapped horribly and were bleeding.  She looked like someone had dropped her in the middle of the desert without food or water for several days, and was now just making it home.

 

“Willow?” Buffy repeated, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

 

“Buffy?” she answered in a raspy voice before fainting off, dead to the world.

 

---

 

Part 5: Waiting

 

It was dark and cold; and worst of all she was lost.  There were moans coming from all around.  Shadows stalked her every move.  She knew she wasn’t alone evil lurked just beyond her line of sight.  Somewhere, lost along her with her, was Glory; she just hoped she wouldn’t find her.

 

“Witch,” a moan whispered from the dark.

 

“Witch,” another followed.  “Witch!”

 

The voices around her were soon all saying the word, and they were coming closer and closer to her. “Witch!  Witch! Witch!”

 

“Stay away from me!” she cried, unable to hide the fear in her voice.

 

Willow took a step back into the dark, clutching tightly onto herself.  Her head jerked left to right as the voices passed from one to another. They gathered so close, she could feel their breath on her skin.

 

The red head felt herself run into something hard and she froze.  For a moment, she had thought that maybe she had found a wall or a tree, but then she felt the heavy grasp of a hand on her shoulder.  She jerked around to see who touched her. She found herself looking into a large pair of eyes belonging to a thin green body hanging over her.  Before she could stop it, a scream rang out from deep within her throat.

 

Willow gasped deeply, trying to keep her heart from pounding right through her chest.  The bright lights hurt her eyes as she scanned the room.  She was lying in a soft bed, wherever she was, and there were medical machines along the walls.  There was also a television hanging from the one in front of her.

 

Where was she?  Why was it so bright?  Was someone talking to her?

 

“Willow?” a voice said, jerking the young woman back into reality.

 

The witch’s eyes widened when she saw her old friend sitting in the chair next to her bed, holding her hand in one of her own and stroking Willow’s head with the other.  “Buffy?” she said weakly, her throat hurting as the word passed through.

 

“Shhh,” she told her gently.  “The doctor said you shouldn’t speak.”

 

Doctor?  She remembered doctors.  So that’s where she was, a hospital.  But how did she get here?  And how was Buffy here?  No.  She couldn’t be in a hospital if Buffy was here.  She had to be-

 

“Am I dead?” Willow asked the woman beside the bed.

 

Buffy’s face became as kind as she had ever seen it.  “Oh, no.  You’re not dead,” she said as she gave her friend’s hand a good squeeze.  “Neither one of us are.”

 

The witch’s eyes began to water as she forced herself up and wrapped her arms around her old friend’s neck.  “Oh, Goddess, Buffy,” she sobbed.

 

“Hey, you’re dehydrated enough,” the slayer said with an emotional laugh.  “You’ve got to be water saver girl right now, okay?”

 

The two friends moved away from each other, both mirroring the other’s tear tracks and goofy, happy smiles.  Buffy was alive!  Her best friend was alive and kicking and sitting right here beside her.  How is that possible?  There were so many things that Willow wanted to ask, but she felt so weak and she didn’t quite know why. A gentle tapping came from the door and both women looked to see who had come.  Tara stood there, her face bright as she focused in on the red head.

 

“Tara!” she cried loudly and the other woman seemed to just appear in her arms hugging her.  “Oh, baby, I missed you.”

 

“I missed you too,” the blonde answered, hanging tightly onto her.  “If I had known you were going to do that spell, I wouldn’t have left for that retreat.”

 

“No, I should have told you.  I’m so sorry.”

 

As the two women tried to apologize for nothing, Buffy stood to slip out the door.  Willow caught the movement, and called, “Buffy?”

 

“I’m just going to tell the others that you’re awake,” she told her, only telling a half truth.  She also wanted to give the two some privacy.  Tara understood this, and thanked Buffy silently with her eyes.  Without another word, the slayer exited the room, and left them to get to know one another again.

 

**********

 

Spike stood leaning against the wall in the windowless Emergency Room waiting area watching the other Scoobies.  Anya had somehow contorted herself into a curled up position in one of the uncomfortable chairs and was now sound asleep.  She hadn’t been too pleased about having to leave Jessie with Joyce, but Harris needed her right now so she would suffer through it.

 

The Watcher had claimed another one of the chairs and, like the demon girl, had drifted off to sleep after a couple of hours had passed.  His head was resting on his balled fist while his other hand held the Time magazine in his lap so it looked as if he might start reading it again at any moment.  Even in his sleep Giles seemed like he was trying to learn something.

 

Dawn had sprawled out on the only couch as soon as they had arrived, and was now snoring rather loudly to the annoyance of the nurses and a few other people in the waiting room.  Spike had pulled off his duster earlier and placed it over the girl for covering.  She was now snuggling the leather close to her as she rolled on the couch to face the other direction.

 

Harris, Glenda, and the Slayer were all taking shifts waiting for Willow to wake up.  Buffy had been on watch for the past two hours, and he had just sent Tara to go relieve her. After all, the slayer needed her rest too.  So that just left him and the Whelp awake in the waiting room for the moment.

 

Spike eyed the boy as he came over to the coffee tray set up next to the vampire.  He had to wonder if the brick-layer was really a drinker of the stuff because he took a sip of it and made a bitter face from taste.  Normally, this would have been a source of amusement for the vampire, but that sodding soul of his was causing him to take pity on the kid for having such a rough night like the rest of them.

 

“Think I saw the nurse hide that fake milk crap in the cabinet there,” he told him, nodding towards the cabinet that hung overhead.

 

 Xander glared at him for a moment as he held the white, smoking cup in his hand.  Spike knew that he was the last person that Xander wanted to speak to after this night, but he was past the point of caring now.  Surprisingly, instead of biting back at him with some stupid comment that only the Whelp himself seemed to get, he reached into the cabinet and said, “Thanks.”

 

A tense silence passed between the two as he poured the white powder into the cup.

 

“You know, you’re luckiest thing on this planet,” the young man said coldly to the cup.

 

“Yeah?  How?” Spike asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

The brown haired boy looked over at him, his eyes hard.  “Because somehow you got Buffy to care enough about you to make me promise not to stake your sorry ass.”  Xander placed the cup on the counter before turning fully to face the vampire.  “I want to make something very clear. You don’t deserve them, Buffy or Dylan, but by some atrocity against nature, you got them.  If you do anything, anything, that hurts them, I will make sure that once I’m done with you there won’t be enough of you left to fit into an ash tray.”

 

The bleach blond snorted at the threat, but could understand where it was coming from.  Besides, with the look in the boy’s eyes, he wondered if he really should take the threat lightly.

 

“What’s this?  The big brother talk?” Spike asked, holding his face even.

 

“No,” the carpenter answered as he picked up his cup of coffee.  “This is the ‘best friend who has access to lots of sharp wooden objects’ talk.”

 

At that moment, the two came to silent agreement much like Spike and the Watcher had a long time ago.  They didn’t like each other; there was nothing to be done about that because that ship had sailed a long time ago and was sunk off the coast.  They did, however, understand each other.  Xander was the best friend who wanted the best for Buffy.  Spike was the father of her child and cared for her as well.  If nothing else, they could at least try and be civil to one another because neither one of them was going anywhere for a long time to come. 

 

Harris was the first to break the gaze they were locked in, instead choosing to look over at his sleeping wife who snorted loudly and shifted in the chair.  Spike bit back a smile as the boy shook his head.  Then something the brick-layer said struck the vampire.

 

“What makes you think that Buffy cares anythin’ about me?  She just told you that ‘cause she wants me around for Dylan.”

 

Xander glanced over his shoulder at the curious vampire and brought the cup up to his mouth to cover a smile.  “Yeah, sure,” he muttered lowly to himself before walking back over to sit next to Anya.

 

Spike kept his eyebrow arched as he considered what he had just said to him.  Buffy cared?  No, it couldn’t be.  A side of him jumped at the thought that she might actually care, but the other logical, side said that she only kept him around for Dylan.  Still, maybe-

 

“Xander!” Spike heard Buffy’s excited voice say from the entrance way.

 

Harris looked up from the seat he had taken next to Anya.  Buffy’s face was literally beaming and the vampire could clearly make out the tear tracks that ran down her cheeks.

 

“She’s awake,” she said like a small child who had just found that Santa had paid them a visit.

 

Without a word, the boy shot out of his seat and took off down the hall that the slayer had just come from.  Anya shook from the force of his movement and nearly fell to the ground before she woke up enough to catch herself.

 

“What’s going on?” she asked sleepily, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

 

“Willow’s awake,” Buffy repeated.

 

“Good,” the ex-demon said laying her head back into the resting position.  “Now maybe I can go home and get some sleep in my bed.”

 

Spike shook his head as the girl drifted off back to sleep.  “Always thinkin’ of others, ain’t she?”  Buffy snorted before she came to stand by him on the wall.  He had to ask, “Don’t you want to be back there with the others?”

 

The energy that was built up around her began to die as she drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  She was returning to the calmer woman he had watched her grow into over the past two years; a woman who was becoming more and more like her own mother while keeping a flare that was distinctly Buffy.

 

“She’s alive,” she told him quietly.  “Willow’s alive.”

 

He smirked as he reached over and smoothed down her blond hair on the back of her head.  “I noticed, love.”

 

“No, I mean, she’s alive!  She’s really here, with us.”  She shook her head.  “You don’t understand.  I even don’t even understand.”

 

“I get it, Slayer,” he told her.  “Red’s my friend too, remember.  Well, sort of, anyway.”

 

Buffy chuckled at the comment.  “Yeah, she always did kind of like you, I guess.  More than rest of us anyway.”

 

“Hey, now.  The Nibblet’s always liked me.”

 

“Yeah, but Dawn’s only been around for two years, so that doesn’t count.”

 

Buffy jerked her hands up to cover her mouth like a child who had said a bad word in front of an adult as Spike felt a shock of confusion hit him.  “What are you talkin’ about, Slayer?  I’ve known Dawn as long as any of you lot.”

 

“Nothing,” she said quickly.  “I-I’m just tired and not thinking straight.  You know, it being such a long night and all.”

 

He studied her for a long moment, knowing full out that she was lying to him.  She was hiding something, something big, and it involved the bit.  

 

Buffy swallowed hard as he stared at her, but she was careful to avoid his gaze.  Frantically, she searched for another topic to keep his mind off what she had just said.  “So, um, what is it that you wanted to tell me earlier?”

 

“Slayer, what about the bit?”

 

“I asked you first,” came her lame reply.

 

“Buffy,” he said in a much gentler tone.  She knew it wasn’t really that he wanted to know the secret, but had more to do with trust. Still, she couldn’t tell him.

 

“Don’t ask me,” she said weakly.  “Please, don’t.”

 

He frowned deeply at her and sighed. “You want to act childish, fine.  You keep your secrets, I’ll keep mine.”

 

The bleach blond pushed away from the wall and started to walk away, but not before he caught the hurt expression that crossed her face. 

 

“Spike,” she called, causing him to stop half way across the room.  He looked over his shoulder at her, and, for a moment, he thought that she might actually tell him what she was keeping to herself.  But then that stubborn bitch look crossed her face and instead she said, “Where are you going?”

 

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.  So much for the more mature woman he thought she was becoming. 

 

“To call Joyce and let ‘er know Red’s awake,” he said rather coldly, thickening the lower class English accent more then usual, before heading out of the waiting room all together.

 

*********

 

The young man was leaning against the counter, smiling politely at the nurse who was giving him directions to the cafeteria.  He wasn’t actually listening to the woman at all, but listening to the couple who were arguing rather loudly in the waiting area.  He knew it was them; he recognized them from the picture he was given when he agreed to come here. 

 

Neither one of them may look that tough, but he knew otherwise.  He had seen what they had done to those scout groups and Lang; they were not to be taken lightly at all, especially if they were working together.

 

The man watched from the corner of his eye as the bleach blond said something to the young woman before storming away.  She sunk back against the wall, all the joy she had been displaying a moment ago disappeared along with the vampire.  He thought the blonde was going to start crying but, after a moment, she collected herself enough to start to wake the others to tell them the news of their friend’s return.

 

As the others began to stir, he thanked the nurse and hurried off in the direct she had pointed out for him.  They were not his concern.  Right now, he had to tell Marie to call the boss and tell him what was going on.

 

**********

 

Travers poured the dark liquid into the glass and watched as the artificial light playful danced in the bourbon as it fell.  Things had been hard these last few months, since the project had seemingly come to a screeching halt now that Lang was gone.  As much as he hated to admit it, she did serve a purpose, one that had now, unfortunately, been shifted into his hands.

 

The old man snorted as he took a sip of alcohol.  He knew for a fact that the vampire and slayer had been back in Sunnydale for nearly two months. That infuriating ex-Watcher hadn’t even so much as reported it to the council that she was a mother, let alone of a damphyr.  Really, what kind of Watcher had they bred in Mr. Giles?  Any Watcher, whether current or formal, would have been begging the Council for information or help as to how this happened.  Mr. Giles, however, had not.  Infuriating, really.

 

While Travers took another sip of the drink, the intercom came on.  “Mr. Travers?” Lindsey’s voice called out.  “There’s a message for you from some woman in Sunnydale.”

 

The tips of his lips curled up ever so slightly as he struggled not to sound too excited to be already hearing back from her.  “What does she have to say, Lindsey?” he asked carefully.

 

“She says that she’s there.  That everything is working out just like you said.”

 

“Good,” he said, placing the glass on the edge of his desk.  “Thank you, Lindsey.”

 

The intercom switched off and Travers poured himself some more of the drink.  Things might have been down for the past couple of months, but they were starting to look up now.

 

 

 

The End of the Interlude

Continue to Crawling in the Dark

Feedback to Winter

Back To Buffy/Spike Fics