Essence Of The Heart
Restive Nature
Rated NC-17
Chapter Twenty
Back To Bliss
"Is everyone ready to party?" Dawn demanded loudly as she and Buffy strolled through the entrance to the Hyperion. Fred, Gunn and Wes glanced up, took in the two women and then disinterestedly went back to whatever they had been working on. Buffy tried to stall her snigger as Dawn’s face fell. But it said a lot. Either the AI crew was too sedentary in their dealings with new excitement coming along. Or they were so deep in work that they hadn’t the time for the exuberance of the teen. Buffy wondered if it wasn’t a little bit of both. But Dawn was determined not to be ignored. She flounced over to the counter separating them from the others and rhythmically tapped her fingers on the edge. Wes glanced up once more, staring at the teen.
"Can I help you?" he asked politely of her, even as he shared a smirk with Buffy over her head.
"Yeah," Dawn grinned up at him. "I seemed to have developed this growth. Really nasty thing too. Rides around on my ass all day, telling me that my grades could be better, I should get a better job, I have weird friends and that I don’t spend enough time with it."
"Ah yes," Wes sighed dramatically, looking up at the ceiling wistfully. "The dreaded demon of doom, clings to others as a way of bolstering it’s own self-esteem. Often seems too good to be true in the beginning, but rapidly fades to a point of narcissistic posturing while putting others down. I believe it’s more commonly referred to as Jason in its current persona?"
"Got it in one," Dawn giggled. Wes leaned his elbows on the counter, moving nearer the teen.
"Do you know what works wonders on this particular demon?" he whispered conspiratorially. Dawn leaned forward as well, the wry grin still firmly in place and shook her head. "There seems to be a secret magical incantation that when repeated as long as necessary, renders the demon powerless. The incantation is most effective when applied along with various activities. Would you like to hear about them?"
"Oh yeah!" More than one voice joined Dawn’s.
"Well, you see, whenever this demon rears it’s ugly head and begins it’s draining blather, simply repeat ‘whatever’ and then implement a routine of ignoring the demon and when the demon begins to try to cling more tenaciously, engage in a routine of having fun without it. I assure you, if you do this, especially with other young people, it will strike the demon down!"
By the end of his impromptu speech, he nearly had Dawn rolling on the floor in stitches. The older folk were grinning, appreciating something they didn’t see very often, the emergence of Wes’ dry humor. Buffy took in her sister, then whispered to her former Watcher, "good one. How’d you figure that out?"
"Hmm, Willow’s been in the mood to share," he sighed. Buffy perked up and glanced around.
"Speaking of Wills, she here?"
"Cordelia took her shopping," Fred provided softly.
"The universal cure-all it seems," Wes grimaced.
"Good ol’ Cordy," Buffy chuckled. "Faithful ‘til the end."
"Quite," Wes agreed. He was prevented from saying more as the door of the basement was flung open.
"Hey, you made it," Angel called out as soon as he’d seen their guests. Dawn had finally recovered from her bought of laughter. She looked eagerly behind Angel but saw no sign of Max or the baby. Angel noticed and gestured absently. "They’re downstairs. Why don’t you go down so Max can show you where stuff is?" Dawn nodded and headed for the stairs. He waited until the door had shut behind her before turning back to Buffy. "So what was so funny?"
"Wes was cheerin’ the girl up," Gunn provided.
"Yeah," Angel murmured sympathetically. "We heard about Jason."
"Ah, she’s young," Buffy chirped, shrugging genially. "She’ll get over it. Besides, she dumped him. It’s not her fault the guy doesn’t want to let go."
"You can’t blame him either," Wes grinned. "Dawn is quite a remarkable young woman."
"True," Buffy smiled again at him, then turned back to Angel. "So is Max about ready to go? Spike will be off in less than an hour."
"In a few," Angel assured her. "Eva’s sleeping now, but she has the tendency to wake up about one am and want to play. Max is probably just making sure Dawn knows her entire medical history, who to call in descending order, where to reach us, good hiding places in case something demonic happens to show up, how to call a cab should she need to get out of the hotel, how to dial 911…" he trailed off to suck in a lung full of air. Buffy giggled.
"A little obsessive?" she teased, pushing down the feelings of jealousy and inadequacy that naturally came up for the other woman.
"Not at all," Max called as she made her way into the lobby. "You should have seen the list Angel left."
"Bad?" A roll of Max’s eyes was her only answer.
"Shall we go?" Angel asked quickly. Without waiting for a reply, he began ushering the women towards the back, where the car was parked. He turned his head back to his group; "you know how to reach us if you need to." They left to the various assents and assurances that all would be well.
*****
"Oy!" Spike groaned as beer foam ran down over his hand. He righted the glass quickly, allowing the liquid to even out and grabbed up a towel to wipe off the sides of the glass before presenting it to the bloke before him.
"Problem?" Lorne asked softly. Spike shrugged.
"Just thinkin’ when I should be pourin’," Spike muttered. Lorne waited patiently, knowing that if it was bothering Spike enough, he’d eventually spill the beans. And he was right. "Goin’ out tonight. Me, Buffy, Max and Angel."
"Heavens above!" Lorne chuckled. "The end is near!"
"Ha ha," Spike sneered.
"Not looking forward to it?"
"Well I would, I guess, if it weren’t for the fact that I’m barely gonna have any fun, what with the poofter bein’ there," Spike whined.
"Oh, your little gambling date?" Lorne asked. He waved a hand dismissively. "Wouldn’t worry about it. Angelkins doesn’t gamble. He’s more likely to sit and glower at anyone that gets too near that peach of a wife of his."
"And that’s just my point," Spike sighed. "I’m the one she’s gonna be gamblin’ with."
"Ah, just relax," Lorne shrugged. "And remind him, that at the end of the night, she’ll be going home with him. If he can’t deal, then it’s his problem, not yours."
"All right, all right," Spike growled, throwing the towel he’d been holding back onto the counter. "I swear, you an’ Buffy must have attended Pep Talk 101 together." Lorne just laughed and headed off to greet some new customers. Right behind which, were the objects of his love, friendship and consternation.
*****
Max and Angel had talked with Lorne while Buffy delivered a change of clothes to her fiancé. Things had been a little forced, slightly tense on the drive to the little tucked away casino Max knew about. Spike had taken the initiative of nudging Buffy into the backseat of Angel’s convertible, then diving in after her. There was little to talk about on the drive over, other than shoptalk. But when they finally entered the club, they perked up.
"Okay, where to first?" Max asked gamely. She eyed Spike, who shrugged.
"Don’t matter to me," he smirked. "I’m just an innocent bystander."
"Ooh, do the roulette thing honey," Angel grinned. Even knowing of her genetically enhanced skills, he’d still been amazed by her prowess at predicting where the little ball would fall. Max grinned back at him and gestured towards the money-changing counter to their right. Spike raised his eyebrow a bit as she changed over five hundred dollars. She caught the look and smiled coqutteishly.
"Some for you and some for me," she explained unnecessarily, as she divvied up the chips she’d been given, each one bearing the stamp of the club. "Okay, we’ll hit the roulette table first. Approach it from the other side, make a few small bets that differ from mine. Don’t always bet the same as me, but do for the most part follow my lead. We can only stay so long or they’ll get suspicious. Then we’ll move on to another table. Got it?" There were nods of approval.
"What about Angel and I?" Buffy quizzed. Max was already shaking her head.
"Too many players, too much suspicion," she replied tightly. "But if you want to play the slots…" she trailed off, waiting for their decision, but neither of them wanted to miss out on her little mission. "All right, let’s move out." Buffy smothered a giggle as she watched the women sashay her way over to a table lightly populated with an assortment of people.
"Oh my God Angel," she tittered. "You married Riley."
"I did not!" he protested immediately, his face covered by a deep red blush. He turned to watch his wife, slowly coming to the realization that perhaps she did have a few traits in common with the beefed up soldier boy. He shook his head quickly, trying to dislodge those disturbing thoughts in his mind. "Okay, so maybe she can be a little militaristic. But hell, she’s a lot sexier than he ever was."
"Oh yeah," Spike agreed quickly, also taking in the swaying of the brunette’s hips as she inserted herself at the table beside a large, balding man dressed in a cheap suit. "Ow!" he yelped as he was smacked in both arms.
"Quit watching my wife," Angel growled, although there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"Yeah, cut it out," Buffy mimicked her former lover on Spike’s other side. She sighed as her fiancé grinned down at her, remembering their talk before about the temptation other people presented. She looked after Max, slightly calculating, then back at Spike. She knew there was nothing to worry about there. Spike was hers and Max was devoted to Angel. If anything, Spike seemed to regard her in the same way he did Willow. "Come on, let’s go." She nudged Spike and then followed Angel through the crowd to watch as Max began to run her own game on the wheel.
"Watch her," Angel instructed softly. Buffy did so and easily saw the rapid calculations Max was making with her eyes alone before setting a few chips on the table. The little ball bounced over the grooves and rigid metal until finally coming to a halt on the exact number she had picked. There were a few cheers for her as she raked in the winnings. The wheel began to spin around once more and the people held their collective breath, but Max won again. And again and again.
Buffy began to get bored quickly. She nudged Angel’s arm, waiting until he’d bent slightly over to hear her over the noise of the crowd. "I’m going to go get a drink."
He nodded, "want me to go with you?" She shrugged, leaving it up to him. She headed to the bar, unsurprised that he was right behind her. She took a seat and waited until she had the bartender’s eye. She ordered a Long Island iced tea and Angel waved the man away, since he was the one driving. Her drink was delivered and paid for before she turned back to her friend.
"They look like they’re having fun," she commented, barely glancing back at their respective loved ones. Angel glanced at them as well, taking in their smiling faces on opposite sides of the table. He turned to face Buffy.
"While you on the other hand," he murmured softly, "look miserable."
Her head snapped up. "Do I?"
"Only to someone who knows you as well as I do," he assured her gently. She grimaced and took a sip of her drink. "Do you want to talk about it."
"It," she chuckled darkly. "Not it. Many things. Many, many things all coming together to play havoc with my life."
"Like what?"
"Oh, work, the wedding, strange dreams," she stopped hastily, throwing him a concerned glance, but he ignored it. He just waited. Buffy sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly. She stared at the glass between her hands, rubbing a finger over the condensation around it. "We went to a fertility clinic," she admitted. But still he was silent. "Got tested."
Angel waited still, but she was quiet. "And?" he finally prompted.
"It’s not Spike," she murmured, then took a longer pull of the beverage.
"Oh Buffy, I’m-!"
"Don’t!" she spoke softly, but harshly. "Just don’t say you’re sorry. Or that it’ll be okay. Or that it’s better that I know now. I mean I don’t know. Not for absolutely one hundred percent for sure. But still. It’s not Spike, so it’s gotta be me, right?"
"What do you mean, you don’t know?" Angel asked, focusing on that rather than any empty platitudes he could offer. She frowned.
"My test results haven’t come back yet."
Angel simply nodded; knowing this was one area that he couldn’t help her with. It was something she and Spike had to work out and deal with on their own. "So, strange dreams, huh? Prophetic ones? Something bad coming?"
Before she could answer, Spike interrupted, hugging his fiancée from behind. "Hello my lovely," he sang in her ear. Buffy pasted on a grin and turned on her stool to see what had him so happy. He showed her the pile of chips that had grown considerably already. "We’re almost up to five hundred already."
"That’s great," Buffy smiled, including Max, who’d appeared beside Angel. "What next?" she asked of the brunette woman.
"Mm, Angel, could you scope the blackjack tables for me?" she implored. He nodded and stood. "Some of the dealers have started using those damn machines to shuffle. I need one still doing it freestyle before they deal."
"All right," he nodded and set off. Max took his seat and quickly ordered a beer.
"So who’s Riley?" she asked of both of them and giggled when she heard a muttered ‘stupid wanker’ from Spike.
"Ex-boyfriend," Buffy supplied, then her eyes went wide. "I can’t believe you heard that!"
"Eh, genetically enhanced hearing," she shrugged. Then smiled her thanks at the bartender as she paid for the beer. "Actually, that’s the one thing that sometimes sucks about this time." They waited for her to explain. "Always gotta remind people how different I am."
"Yeah, I guess that would suck," Buffy agreed. She’d been so used to everyone around her knowing that she was the Slayer that it was tough to be around people who didn’t know, in case something slipped. Everyone else was probably used to Max’s abilities, but she and Spike hadn’t spent enough time with her to know. Buffy could almost think of Max as another Slayer, but somehow the woman just didn’t seem to fit that mold, having a personality completely separate and unique. "Do you miss them sometimes?" she asked politely.
Max sighed. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked that. "Yeah, I do." She rested her head in her hand as she focused on the woman. Spike was listening just as avidly, but some things were just easier to share with a woman. "I wonder how Joshua is doing, if he’s still painting. I wonder if Logan found somebody, how Eyes Only is doing. I wonder if my siblings ever found their way to TC. Yeah, I think about them. I miss them."
"But you’ve got a lot here too," Buffy pointed out, pleased when the other woman perked up.
"Yeah, definite compensation there," she chuckled as she caught sight of Angel weaving his way back to them.
"Fourth table from the left," he informed them, then glanced down at his wife. "Although it’s a woman dealing."
"Thank God," Max sighed as she stood up from the stool, snagging her beer with one hand, the chips with the other. "That leaves me able to talk, instead of oozing the appeal."
"That’s right," Angel growled against her temple. "Save that appeal for me."
"Damn straight!" she cheered then gestured to her partner in crime. "Come on Spike." The blonde man wiggled his eyebrows playfully, gave Buffy a peck on her cheek and then nearly skipped off to join in the fun that was to be had.
"I swear he’s like a little kid," Angel laughed as he took over his stool again. Buffy simply nodded. "So, you were saying before, dreams? Anything I need to know about?"
Buffy shook herself, trying to get back to the conversation that had been interrupted only moments before. Oh, right. Her dreams. "Not really," she hedged. But Angel had a slightly mulish look on his face. She debated internally, wondering about the wisdom of sharing her recent revelation over his son.
"What is it Buffy?" he cajoled softly. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."
"I’m not sure I can," she murmured back. And instantly realized it was the wrong thing to say. He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a warning hand. "It’s not that easy Angel. This has to do with more than just me. Other people are involved."
"Why don’t you just give me the basics, and I can decide for myself if it’s worth hearing about."
Buffy inhaled deeply, wondering how to get him off the subject. But she wasn’t sure she’d be able to. He’d had a long time to develop patience. Knowing this, she gave in slightly. "It’s about Connor," she whispered. And instantly regretted it. Confusion marred his face and he turned away from her, staring at his own reflection for long moments, as if debating whether to ask her or not.
"You know about Connor," he finally ground out. "All this time I knew you knew about him. But every time I wondered how that was possible, something else came up. I kept meaning to ask you about it later, but I’d always forget. As if something were deliberately pushing it from my mind, making me forget." He turned to her, anguish written clearly in his face. "How do you know about Connor being my son?"
"Because… because, in a way, Connor is my son too," she replied nervously.
*****
"So, what’s the limit tonight?" Max asked with a smile as she and Spike threaded their way over to the table Angel had designated. "How much do you want me to win for you?" she clarified for him, as he looked thoughtful. A calculating grin crossed his face.
"As much as possible," he retorted and was rewarded with a full, throaty laugh.
"My kind of guy," she giggled.
"Yeah, if only we’d met way back when," he sighed mournfully. "What a pair we’d have made."
"Oh, you mean if by luck I’d gotten here somewhere between Dru, Harmony and Buffy? Somehow I don’t think I’d have had much window of opportunity." She slid into an empty seat at the blackjack table, setting her cache before her as Spike leaned against the open area to her left.
"Ah, that ditz was just a way to pass the time," Spike dismissed with a shrug, as he passed along his winnings to add to hers. He figured they could divvy them up again later.
"I’m assuming you meant Harmony?" Max eyed him sternly. "Cordy told me stories about her."
Spike sighed and rolled his eyes. He could just imagine what the former cheerleaders were like together when Harmony had fled Sunnydale and honed in on LA. "Ah, let’s not go there."
"So she’s definitely in the category of not being missed?" Max shrugged. It didn’t matter to her one way or the other. She knew well enough when to leave it alone though. "So how are things going for you?" she asked as she watched the woman shuffling the cards, the suits and card order settling in her mind as the woman dealt out the hands.
"They’re goin’," Spike grimaced, then quickly masked his dissatisfaction. But Max caught it anyway.
"Just not the way you want it to?"
"Hell, when does life ever go the way you want it to?" he demanded shortly. "You should know that."
"Hmm," she nodded. "I got that pounded into my head a number of times. Hit me!" Her assertion startled Spike until he realized that the game was well under way. He watched as Max revealed her cards, higher than the house, winning back quite a bit. For a few minutes, the only sound registering in his mind was the slapping of the plastic coated cards as they mixed together. "So what’s bugging you?" she asked of him finally.
"Oh, lots of stuff I guess," Spike grunted.
"Let me guess," Max grimaced, though whether it was over the cards or their discussion, Spike wasn’t sure. "Buffy is upset about this whole baby thing, the wedding is getting closer and she’s starting to freak out about it and there’s a ton of stuff going on that’s distracting her?"
"How the hell did you know?" Spike demanded, torn between amazement, anger and embarrassment. Max grinned up at him and lifted one shoulder gracefully.
"I’m a woman," she replied mysteriously, and then took pity on him. "I simply put myself in Buffy’s shoes. She wants a baby. I assume you do too," she waited for his affirmation. "She doesn’t have one, making her worry. That’s one thing. Two, planning a wedding is always stressful, and she’s probably got a touch of cold feet. Three she’s still trying to care for her sister, do well at work so she won’t get fired, go out at night to do her thing and keep up things with you, her friends… man it makes me tired thinking about it like that." She chuckled but Spike just looked thoughtful. She paused in her play for a moment to rest a hand comfortingly on his arm.
"She doesn’t want to get married," he admitted in a tiny voice. Max’s expression changed not one little bit. "That doesn’t surprise you?"
"Not really," Max sighed, holding up a hand to keep him from protesting. "Like I said, I figured she was worried about wedding stuff. God knows I certainly had cold feet before Angel and I were married."
"You did?"
She nodded. "I was kind of pissed at this whole predestined thing. I kept wondering if I was marrying him because I was in love with him, or because it was what everyone expected."
"But you finally figured it out?"
"Yeah. I think it was a little of both. I was supposed to be with him. Marriage or not was up to us. So I eventually figured out that I was marrying him for love. From what I hear, we’ve all got somewhere to be. Things we gotta do. It’s up to us how we get there."
"Yeah," Spike agreed absently. He wasn’t really in the mood for philosophy tonight. "But that’s completely different from telling Angel straight out that you don’t think getting married is a good idea."
"Oh hell no," she scoffed. "Unless of course, it slipped out during a fight or something. I always say things I don’t mean when I’m mad." She chuckled, knowing from the look on his stunned face that that was precisely what had occurred between he and Buffy. "Spike, don’t sweat it. In a few weeks, after you and Buff are married, you’ll look back on this night and wonder what the hell you were worried about."
"You sound pretty sure of yourself there pet," Spike smiled sadly.
"I am."
"What makes you so sure that we’ll be happily married?"
"Because I said so."
"You do realize that you’ve just jinxed it, don’t you?"
"Oh crap!"
*****
Buffy and Angel sat in silence. It had taken nearly half an hour for her to get the whole story out. At least the whole story that pertained to him. She kept parts of Connor’s life to herself. Knowing it all would serve no purpose other than to make Angel feel even guiltier than he already did. He’d been stunned to say the least by her revelations. And even now he didn’t know how to express the feelings within himself. Although Buffy had a pretty good idea from the tears that he was rapidly blinking back.
"Th-thank you," he finally managed to stammer out. "For what you did, I mean," he clarified gruffly. Buffy rubbed his arm soothingly. "And I’m so sorry. That you were asked to do that. What you had to give up. That you had to find out… what I had done, that way."
"It’s okay Angel," she soothed. "It’s in the past now." Her eyes grew thoughtful as she stopped stroking. "Although, it might explain a lot about that year."
"That year?"
"After… Willow brought me back," she began haltingly. "Why I was such a mess. I think, given time, I would have been okay. But they pulled me back before I could recover, the way I was supposed to. I wasn’t… whole. And it took me so long to learn how to reconnect with people. To heal myself with love, instead of the anger I was feeling."
"I can’t even imagine trying to walk around with only half a soul," Angel shuddered.
"I can’t imagine walking around without a soul at all," she quipped, "but it happens."
"That it does," he sighed his agreement, listening for the censure behind her words. But there was none. They were silent again for a bit. "You know, sometimes, I want to tell Connor. Tell him that I’m his father."
"But you don’t," Buffy ascertained immediately. "You know that’s a bad idea, right?"
"Is it really?" he demanded lowly, his face pained. It was clear that this was not the first he’d thought about this.
"You know," Buffy mumbled. "I sometimes wish that Dawn had never known the truth. That she could have gone her whole life without knowing the darker things in life. But she didn’t get that luxury. None of us did. All except Connor." She glanced up at him, his full attention on her. "He’s got a wonderful family that accepts him completely. He’s got good friends that are loyal to him, that matter to him. And even though he doesn’t know the truth, he’s got you. Isn’t it funny that you cut yourself completely out of his life and yet he shows back up."
"Yeah," he grinned wryly.
"I mean, you guys have like, I don’t know, a clean slate or something," Buffy chuckled. "A fresh start, with none of the crap to get in the way of being friends. And that’s what Connor needs. A friend."
"You know," Angel sighed, "that’s pretty much what Max said."
"Smart woman."
"Hey hey hey!" Spike’s voice boomed in her ear as he approached swiftly. "Who wants to kiss a millionaire?" he bragged, waving some bills in his fiancée’s face. Max followed after him, laughing.
"Damn, I’m good," she called out, "but I’m not that good." She reached her husband’s side, giving him a quizzical glance before turning to the others. "More like a thousand-aire."
"Ooh, how much?" Buffy asked eagerly, visions of white tulle and lace dancing in her mind.
"Our share of tonight’s profits come to… a little over four thousand dollars," Spike fanned the money in front of her as she grabbed for it. He laughed and held it out of her reach, tilting his head for a kiss instead. She complied until his hands began to slip and then broke off to swiftly grab the money and count it herself. Spike protested weakly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. But Buffy was too caught up in something else to notice. She spun in his arms, her eyes wide as they landed on Max.
"So then that would mean that you made, like…?"
Max shrugged more than used to having money come and go through her hands. "Probably enough to make a dent in Eva’s college fund, buy a house, or whatever else comes to mind."
"Ooh, like a nice, really nice wedding gift," Buffy smirked happily, not at all embarrassed in her hinting.
"I think that’s a given," Max assured her. Buffy didn’t notice the wink Max threw Spike, or the blonde man’s gleeful nod.
"So, have we had enough for tonight?" Angel asked, trying not to spoil the mood. But Buffy had given him a lot to think about.
"Yeah, I’d like to go home," Spike agreed, his attention completely on the euphoric woman in his arms. And so it was agreed on.
*****
Half a week later, Buffy tumbled down the steps into Caritas, barely pausing for Marco to check her through the door. His rough hand held her back and she glanced up at him.
"What?" she demanded hotly. Knowing the rules, she’d left her weaponry behind and couldn’t imagine why he was detaining her.
"Hair," he spoke gruffly, keeping up the bouncer persona, even though he knew Spike had told his fiancée about his true gentle hearted demeanor away from work.
Buffy gaped at him as her hand flew up to straighten her hair. And came into contact with the pair of chopsticks she’d stuck there to hold them up. "Oh yeah," she chuckled, momentarily surprised. She blinked innocently as her hand slowly returned to her side. "But they’re just for style."
"Uh huh," Marco laughed derisively. "And they’re not made of wood, and you’re no Slayer." He spoke the last word quietly, knowing better than to start a riot in the club, which her presence could easily do.
"Oh come on," she scoffed. "I’m not here on business. I came to see Spike."
Marco glanced back over his shoulder at the male Slayer, engrossed in mixing a drink while Lorne nattered in his ear between songs. He turned back to Buffy, a wry grin on his face. "All the more reason for me to take them away." He held out his hand, waiting.
"Oh all right," Buffy gave in with good-natured grumbling. Her mood was too good to quibble over this. "I have other ways of torturing him," she muttered as she slapped the wooden implements into his hand. He closed his fingers around them and settled them in his vest pocket; well aware that she knew he’d return them when she left.
"I have no doubt about that," he winked at her. Buffy smiled back and headed into the lounge area. Her sharp ears heard him mutter under his breath as she went, "and damn if you don’t look sexier with your hair down." She paused for a moment, basking in the admiration. But once she caught sight of Spike again, she remembered her true purpose. She hurried towards the bar, ignoring everyone else.
"Spike!" she called out urgently. His head snapped up and a smile lit his features. He immediately dropped his gaze back to what he was doing, quickly finished and slid the drink over to the latest patron. Once the woman had moved away, Buffy took up her position. Spike leaned over the bar to give her a welcoming peck on the lips. It wasn’t often that she visited him at work, claiming that her Slayer sense went too crazy for her to handle in this place. Spike’s did occasionally, but didn’t bother him as badly.
"What are you doin’ here luv?" he asked curiously. "Not that you’re not welcome."
"My little chica is always welcome," Lorne interrupted idly. "But something tells me that it’s quite a bit more than a social call." Buffy eyed him up and down.
"I thought people had to sing for you to see stuff," she remarked back.
"Usually yes," he nodded casually. "But come on, you don’t think that after ten years, I wouldn’t figure out human’s body language? Actually, I had it down in about three days. But you know what they say, practice makes perfect. And baby, I’ve been practicing a long time. In fact-!"
"Oh give it a rest Lorne," Spike laughed. "She’s impressed. I’m impressed. The whole bloody club is in awe of your talents. We bow to the wisdom of-!"
"All right, I get it," Lorne pretended to pout. "I know when I’m not wanted." He sighed heavily and picked up his drink from the bar. He took a step forward, but turned back to the couple. "Oh and Spike?"
"Yeah?"
"You better take the rest of the night off," Lorne giggled impishly. "It seems you’re going to need it." And then he sauntered off to greet his next over zealous crooner.
"What did he mean by that?" Spike demanded of the demon’s retreating back. He glanced down at Buffy, seeing that she’d dismissed Lorne the moment he’d left their vicinity. "Oh hell! Who am I to argue?" He quickly rounded up his share of the tips, while asking Buffy, "so what’s up luv?"
"I just saw the doctor today," she spoke in low tones, but it was enough to make him stop dead.
Spike’s heart was thrumming in his ears, making the noise in the rest of the club tone down to a dull roar. He tried to read her expression, but it was as if the last eight years had gone out the window. He felt sluggishly stupid as he worked to figure out the unreadable expression on her face. Was she happy? Sad? Terrified? Pissed off? And then it came to him. It was a mixture of all those and more. Her emotions were running the gamut. And while he couldn’t read it in her face, he could see the spark and sparkle in her eyes. "What’d ‘e say?" he finally choked out, but she was shaking her head.
"Not here," she murmured and Spike nodded quickly. He shoved the money he’d been holding into his pants pocket and ran to get his coat, which Marco was now holding. With a grin, the bouncer held out his hand to Buffy as she walked by, returning the unimportant chopsticks.
The ride home was silent, but for the loaded tension in the air between them. Buffy led her lover into the living room, pausing only to turn on one lamp. She stopped at the sofa and arranged herself as comfortably as she could. Spike sat gingerly by her side, unsure as to what the news could possibly be. He’d already figured out that it wasn’t as horrible as Buffy had been expecting, yet it wasn’t the best either. Finally, he just needed it out in the open.
"What did ‘e say?" he repeated.
Buffy sighed, trying to remember all the meaningless medical jargon the doctor had spewed. It made little sense to her but from the tone it was delivered in was sensible to her. She figured that as long as the doctor knew what he was talking about, then that was good enough for her. "Okay," she began, "he said a lot of stuff, so I’ll just give you the gist of it."
Spike watched her carefully, seeing her take in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He had angled his body towards her and now reached out his hand towards her. She smiled down at the long fingers snaking their way towards her and responded in kind. Once their fingers were entwined, she glanced up at him, almost shy.
"I’m okay," she admitted, smiling broadly at the look of pure relief that lanced through him. But then realized that she couldn’t deny what else the doctor said. "Well, for the most part."
"What does that mean?" Spike cocked his head towards her, the sudden hope that flared in his chest burning out in an instance.
"Okay," Buffy prepared herself for the mini-lecture she was going to deliver. "Remember all the tests that Dr. Ferguson did on me?" He nodded. "Well, one of them gave him the results he was looking for." He was about to ask what, but she forestalled him by holding one slim finger in the air. "Apparently, and this is his theory, not mine, the stabbing played a major role in our problem."
"The stabbing?"
"It did some internal damage," she confirmed. "The doctor said that it slashed my right ovary. He asked how big the blade was. I told him and he showed me. The scar is really small. He said that he had considered going in to repair the tissue damage if he could, but it looked like it was slowly healing itself. But in the meantime, the damage from that was enough, that I would be ovulating only every other month."
"An’ that’s it?" Spike asked, visibly stunned. It all sounded so simple. But the way her head was hanging slightly, he knew there was more. He reached out, stroking her hair, pushing the silky strands back so he could tilt her face up to his. Surprisingly, she wasn’t crying, as he’d expected. "What is it luv?"
"Oh, it’s just," she groaned and pulled her face away, but didn’t let loose his hand. "I feel so stupid. I mean, the doctor told me when I first started, but I didn’t pay any attention."
"Pay attention to what luv?" Spike sighed. "Kind of need the whole story here."
"Um," Buffy bit her lip. Her head dropped again, still uncomfortable with certain aspects of her femininity in relation to being forthrightly discussed. "When I started on the pill." Spike nodded. "The doctor told me that it can take a while for my body to get back in synch and be ready, well to have kids when I went off them."
Understanding dawned in Spike’s eyes. "And that’s it, right? That’s everything?"
"That’s it," Buffy confirmed, exhaling forcibly. "Pretty stupid of me, huh?"
"Not stupid," he chuckled. "Hell, no one mentioned that at all. We’re surrounded by all these geniuses and no one even thought about you goin’ off the pill."
"That’s true," Buffy perked up a little. "Okay, suddenly not feeling so dim."
"So what’s the plan then?"
Buffy understood immediately. "Doctor Ferguson said that it can take up to two years after going off the pill before I get pregnant. And he figures that at the rate I’m going, my ovary will be healed up by then. But he wants to see me again in six months to check on that."
"Okay," Spike nodded. This was definitely workable. "So we’re still planning on a baby? Just not immediately?"
"If you still want to," she confirmed shyly. Spike stood swiftly, pulling her to her feet. He swept her up in his arms, carrying her up to their bed, to convince her just how much he still wanted to.
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