Nine Months Later

Whistler walked into Willy’s bar reluctantly.

He slammed a note onto the bar and looked at Willy expectantly.

“Change your mind?” Willy asked, smirking as he swirled a grubby looking hand towel in a glass, ‘cleaning’ it.

“Found his home. He wasn’t there. Where is he?” Whistler demanded. Willy went to grab the note but his hand was slapped away.

“Where is he?”

“Okay, okay!. Angel’s dead. Dusted two nights ago. Childe killed him. One of ‘em anyway. There was a big fight. Everyone got involved. The slayer, Angel’s other childe, Spike, the pregnant girl…”

“This pregnant girl…where is she?” Whistler asked, quickly.

“I can see you’re real cut up about Angel’s untimely death.” Willy said wryly, staring longingly at the bill.

“And I’m sure you’re holding back tears about it too. Information. Now.”

“Willow Rosenberg. Don’t know where she lives, but I know where the slayer lives and those two are never apart. Try there.” Willy suggested, writing the address down. Whistler grabbed it off him and walked out, leaving the note behind.

Willy smiled, reaching eagerly for the note until he saw the number emblazoned on the side.

“Hey! One dollar!?”

*****

“How can your parents leave so close to the birth?” Buffy asked, angrily. “It isn’t fair.”

“It’s what they do.” Willow said flatly, tugging at and smoothing her shirt over her belly. “Besides, my mom promised she’d be back before then.”

“When do they come back?” Xander asked, walking in with a bowl of popcorn.

“Around two weeks.” Willow replied, pulling her sleeping bag up over her large stomach and crossing her arms to get comfortable.

“Well, you have us.” Buffy reminded her.

“I know.” Willow smiled. “Now put the movie on. We’re supposed to be cheering ourselves up, not thinking about all this stuff.”

Buffy smiled softly and went to grab the first of many movies they’d rented to bring them out of the rut they’d been stuck in since Angel’s death.

It would take longer than two days, they all knew it, but after all the hurt they’d been through, it was an attempt at bringing some normality back into their lives. Buffy had been the worst. The last few months had been very bad between her and Angel but it hadn’t erased their past.

Or even the way she felt about him...

But that night was their night to forget the past and concentrate on the future.

A knock at the door interrupted them right before the movie was due to start. Buffy jumped up to answer it. The door opened and Whistler stood there, small smile on his face.

“You.” Buffy said.

“Me.” Whistler replied. “How ya doing, kid?”

“What are you…why are you here?” Buffy asked, thrown by his sudden appearance.

“Heard about Angel. I’m sorry.” He said, sympathetic smile to go with it.

“You came here to tell me that?”

“No, actually, I’m looking for a friend of yours. Willow Rosenberg?” Whistler asked.

“She’s here. But…why?” Buffy asked, having no intention of letting him in without an explanation.

“Seems she’s pregnant with a miracle baby.” Whistler said. “Got a message from the powers that be.”

“That powers that what?” Buffy asked, confused.

“Can I talk to her?” Whistler asked, trying not to sound exasperated.

“It’s okay, Buffy. Let him in.” Willow said from the entrance to the living room. Reluctantly, Buffy stepped aside, letting Whistler walk in.

“Thanks.” Willow looked at Whistler uncertainly. His outfit alone was cause for concern...

“Who are you?”

“Old friend of Angel’s.” Whistler said, momentarily interrupted by a muttered ‘Never knew Angel would hang with somebody who dressed like that’ from Xander before the brunette fell quiet again after several suspicious looks were sent his way.

“Came here with a message for him, but seems I was a little late. So I figured as might as well tell you, being the mother and all.”

“A message about my baby?” Willow asked, subconsciously placing a hand upon the bulge of her belly.

“What else? It ain’t exactly everyday vampire’s have kids. The powers that be want to make sure the baby’s going to be okay. It’s an important kid, ya know.” Whistler informed her.

“Who are the powers that be?” Willow asked.

“That ain’t what’s important. What is important is that you need to look after this kid. It’s gonna do great things one day.” Whistler explained. “I’m not sayin’ it’s gonna be easy though. There’s a lot of people who’re gonna want the kid dead before it grows up. You’re pretty lucky you got a slayer on your side.”

Buffy remained completely expressionless: she still didn’t trust this guy. He may have helped her against Angelus but it didn’t mean he was trustworthy.

“Things have altered. No one saw this coming.” Whistler said. “Angel was supposed to go on and save lives…work for the powers, for good. But this has thrown everyone off. The powers too, though they won’t admit it. But this kid is gonna save the world.”

Buffy and Willow looked unfazed.

“We do that everyday.” Buffy said flatly.

“Yeah, but…my baby’s gonna do it too.” Willow said, face slowly shifting from the uninterested look she had borne before, to a proud smile that grew as she glanced down at her stomach.

Buffy smiled warmly at Willow, ecstatic that Willow was connecting to her baby so much more now the birth drew near.

“Listen guys, I think I’ll head off.” Xander said, coming in the hallway from the living room. “Important conversations and all. I’ll see you both soon. Take care, Wills.” He kissed her cheek lightly.

“Am I interrupting something?” Whistler asked. “I can come back…”

“No, it’s okay.” Xander said. “We can do this anytime. You okay here Buffy?”

“Yeah, fine. I’ll take care of everything. Get some rest Xander. And I’ll see you tomorrow.” Buffy smiled, kissing his cheek.

“Bye Xander!” Willow called after him as he shut the door.

“Come into the living room.” Buffy suggested, walking in there herself. Willow and Whistler followed, sitting down as Buffy cleared up the popcorn and movie rental boxes. “So, that’s the message, to look after the baby?” Willow asked.

“Well, that and the warning. People are gonna be after that baby.” Whistler said.

“Do you know who the father is?” Willow asked, nervously, falling back into her habit of tugging shirt, pulling it flat, tugging shirt, pulling it flat. Buffy reached over a moment later to still her hands before she tugged the shirt into pieces.

Whistler smiled. “Advantages of knowing the powers. I know everything. Well, almost everything. Try as I might, I can never seem to get them to give me next weeks lottery numbers...” He said, pausing thoughtfully.

“Well?” Buffy asked, impatiently, before Willow could ask the same.

“You sure you wanna know, kid?” He asked. “No turning back once you do.”

“It doesn’t matter to me, either way. I’d just like to know. Well, Spike would too.” Willow explained.

“Spike, huh? He’s the other vampire. Yeah, that one’s a strange one. Not too many like him around these days. Vampire in love with a human.”

“He doesn’t-- he what?” Willow asked, her eyes widening.

“Well, he’s pretty fond of you.” Whistler amended. “You give it time though.”

“Don’t worry Will, if he decides to declare his love I’ll be sure to stake him.” Buffy promised, half-jokingly.

“So…who’s the father?” Willow asked, ignoring Buffy’s comment.

“Well, technically, the blood of both vampire’s runs through the baby’s veins. Without both of them, we don’t think it would have happened at all. But officially…the lucky sperm happened to belong to Spike.” Whistler told her, whilst Buffy grimaced at the phrasing.

Willow wasn’t sure how to take the news. She was just so shocked she finally knew.

“That’s obviously what you were hoping for.” Whistler pointed out, and Willow realized then that she was smiling.

“Yeah, I think it kinda was.”

Happy to have delivered his good news, Whistler stood up and tipped his hat at the girls. “Love to stay, but I got things to do, you know how it is, places to save, people to piss off, ratty bartenders to swindle,” he said quietly, though with a grin. “Good luck.”

“Uh…thanks.” Willow said, standing with Buffy and following Whistler to the door.

“And just a little hint.” Whistler said, as an after thought. “You might wanna be prepared. This kid’s just raring to get out.”

The two girls watched as he left, neither sure what to say.

*****

Buffy closed the door and looked at Willow.

“Wow. That wasn’t exactly a cheer up night.”

“I don’t know…I’m happy.” Willow said, her hand back on her stomach, where it lingered wistfully over where the baby lay.

“What brought about this change in you, Will?” Buffy asked, smiling. “You’re so much more positive about the birth now.”

“I know Buffy. It’s just…the baby’s growing on me. Well, growing in me to be exact.” Willow giggled. “It’s like, I can feel it. Inside. It kicks and I can’t explain to you the way it makes me feel. I just can’t pretend it’s not there anymore.”

Buffy put her arm round her best friend. “I’m glad. I want you to be happy and I don’t think I’ve seen you smile for a long time.”

Willow automatically stopped smiling and pulled away slightly.

“What?” Buffy asked, quizzically.

“I…I just feel bad for smiling, you know. I should, shouldn’t I? After Angel…” Willow broke off.

“Willow, stop it. Angel wouldn’t want you to think that and you know it. It’s terrible he died and I feel as bad as you…worse even, because of the way I treated him for Angelus’ mistakes, but we have to get on with our lives…”

“It’s only been two days Buffy.” Willow reminded her.

“I know... I just…I just think what happened ended this bad part in our lives. And I want to be happy now; I want all of us to be. And I know Angel wanted that too.” Buffy whispered. “I’m not going to forget him, but I can’t spend months crying my eyes out like I did before. I couldn’t take it, not again. I’d drive myself insane with the grief, and I won‘t do it.”

Willow nodded, understanding.

“Is this coming out wrong? I don’t want to sound uncaring... I really don’t.” Buffy said.

“No, you’re making sense.” Willow said softly. “I guess I just feel bad for not caring as much as you.”

“But you do…”

“No! I don’t. I didn’t even cry. I try and feel sorry, but deep down I can’t help feeling maybe it was for the best. I feel so relieved that it’s over and I shouldn’t. It makes me a bad person…”

“No, Willow. You should feel relieved. Angel knew you’d never be able to trust him. The possibility of him becoming Angelus again…it was hanging over everything you did. Spike’s different. I hate to say it, but... it seems he cares about you. We can rest easy now, so be relieved all you want. But never, and I mean never, feel guilty about ‘not caring’. You’re the most caring person I know.”

Willow tried to smile through watery eyes as she wiped tears away.

“Oh, so now I cry.” She laughed.

*****
Eight days later
*****

Lounging round on a deck chair all day, soaking up the sun was hardly Willow’s idea of fun but the idea of having to get up and do something made her muscles ache, so she never quite got round to doing it.

She waited impatiently for Buffy and Xander to get home from school, wishing she could be there too. Even sarcastic comments from Harmony and all the other ‘popular’ students would have been better than doing nothing all day everyday. Daytime television was not all it was cracked up to be. Willow’s only comfort was her laptop. With it, she could almost pretend she had something to be busy with. Though she would never have admitted this to her friends, she actually set herself homework then continued to do it using on-line resources.

Saying she missed school was an understatement.

It was pathetic.

That day though, she did something that a month ago, she wouldn’t have considered doing.

She began searching through pregnancy web pages.

At one point she became so emotional at the pictures of the little toddlers and doting parents, that she began crying. Thankful no one was around to see it, she decided to look elsewhere. When she came across a link for baby names, she pressed it, realizing she’d soon have to decide on one.

As the lists loaded onto her screen, she felt guilty. This was supposed to be a joint decision. Her and Spike. Except she hadn’t seen nor heard from him since Angel’s death. At first she hadn’t allowed herself to think about it. She never wanted to have to worry he’d leave and never come back.

But ten days had passed and now he was all she could think about. Even looking at baby names was making her think about him. She scanned the list, looking at some of the names. Aaron, Abbie, Abbott, Abbra, Abby, Abe… Laura, Laurel, Lauren, Laurence, Laurent, Laurie… Her eyes caught one of the names. William. Meaning ‘desire to protect’. She shut off the laptop and forced herself to stand, making her way inside her empty house.

*****

That night, after Buffy and Xander had cooked her a rather burnt, but still edible meal, Willow slipped outside. She had to know where Spike was. The past few months she hadn’t been able to get rid of him and now he was nowhere to be seen. And after he’d been so protective over her and the baby. For him to leave just before the birth seemed almost wrong. Definitely not true to his recent behaviour.

She made it down the drive before a voice sounded from behind her.

“Thought I told you not to go outside at night. Never learn, do you?” She spun round, her eyes filled with hurt.

“You deserted me.” Spike remained smiling, but his eyes showed so much more. He looked equally as troubled, though he tried his best to hide it.

“Been here all the time.”

“You haven’t been to see me. I was worried…” She broke off sadly. “I’ve had news to tell you.”

“I was watching you. The whole time. Well, while the sun was down anyway. Just needed some time on me own is all.” Spike told her, voice quiet.

“You could have told me.” Willow said, angrily.

“Worried about me, huh? Why?” Spike asked, seriously.

“Why do you think? You promised you’d stay and look after me. You’ve been my rock and then you just disappear. After Angel…it was really mean.” She chastised.

“Well, I’m evil aren’t I?” Spike asked, bitterly.

“What’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing.” Spike replied.

“No there is. There’s more to it.” Willow said, frowning. “Was it Angel?”

“No, it’s nothing, just…”

“I like the name William.” She said suddenly, Spike looking up at her in confusion.

“What?”

“I like the name William. ’Desire to protect.’ That’s what it means. William if it’s a boy. He could be a Second. It’ll sound all aristocratic. You were aristocracy when you were alive right? A member of the bourgeoisie?”

“What?” He said again and Willow gave a tearful laugh, shaking her head.

“You’re a broken record tonight, huh Spike? Maybe I should ban you from speaking around our baby. The last thing I need is to hear, What, over and over again until he learns something new... If it’s a he...” She looked up again finally.

“You should stick around... dual responsibilities and all that... Or... you could just give me a picture and I could tell the baby you were in the French Foreign Legion.... that ought to be mysterious enough for anybody... Off in Algiers somewhere...”

Spike was silent for a moment more, staring back at his hands again.

“Maybe it would be better if I wasn’t,” he said finally.

“Okay, now I’m going to have to steal your line but, what?” Willow asked incredulously.

“The father.... if I wasn’t the father. I’ve had time to think and it’s a.... it’s a bad idea. Evil vampire.” He said quietly, before quickly adding, “Remember?” loudly.

“This is about Angel.” Willow surmised, correctly from the flinch that momentarily tightened Spike‘s features.

“It’s not.”

“Yes, it is.” Willow argued. “You think he should be the father.”

Spike turned away from her.

“He had a soul.” He said quietly, head down.

“And?” Willow asked.

“And the baby deserves someone who isn’t a soulless demon, is all.” Spike muttered.

“Spike, I want you to be the father. Think about it. You’ve never had a soul. Angel did and when he lost his he raped me and killed Jenny. But you, you’ve never had a soul, all these years. All these months. The whole time you were protecting me and thinking about how much you want this baby, you had no soul. You might be a demon, Spike, you might want to say that‘s all you are. But to me, you’re a man. And I want *you* to be the father.”

Spike looked back at her, assessing the truth of her words.

“I can’t be who you want me to be.” He said flatly, staring dazedly into her face.

“I’m not asking for you to be a model citizen. I just want you to be a father. A good father.” Willow told him.

“And what about when the baby grows up and wants to know why his dad kills its kind for dinner, then what?” Spike asked.

“Bridges, Spike. Bridges that will have to be crossed when we get to them. We might have a fucking farm and he’d ask us why people eat things like our pet cows.”

“That’s not the same difference,” he bit out, hands sinking into his hair in exasperation.

“Is it not? It’s food, Spike. I kill, you kill. I can go out there and rip someone’s throat out and the difference is... that you need it to survive. We all do what we have to, to survive. And if killing humans tears you up so much there are alternatives.”

“What? Live on animal blood?” Spike asked. “Forget it. I’m not Angel.”

“Oh, I get it. Actually no I don’t.” She sniffled, loosing some of her threatening posture there, wiping her mouth with her hand. “You’re not good enough for the baby because you’re not Angel enough, but you don’t want to be Angel. What you’re really saying is you don’t want the child, huh? Then what? You’re just going to leave? Forget us? It‘s too late for that Spike, and you know it.”

“Us?” Spike asked, as soon as she had finished, looking at her critically. “This is about the baby, Willow, not you.”

Willow fought back tears, staring harshly at him.

“You’re right... You’re right, this has nothing to do with me. This is all about you and your insecurities... This is about how you can‘t handle things on your own, so you do things that have consequences and once again you can‘t handle anything on your own. You‘re a fucking child, Spike... How did I think you could ever help me raise a child...”

She threw up her hands, backing away, toward the house.

She shouldn’t have turned down her eyes, and a split second later Spike was in front of her, snarling into her face.

“I’m bad for you and I’m bad for the baby.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Spike,” she said bitterly, trying not to show any of her uneasiness at the mood Spike was in. “You’re more than just a soulless demon.” Willow said, shaking her head. “You’re willing to give up seeing the baby because your afraid you’ll be bad for it? That would make you a good person, Spike. More than *just* a soulless demon... You’ve always been more than just, but now that’s not good enough for you.... You’ve got something and now you want it like it was before, huh? Bachelor syndrome... Here I was thinking that maybe by chance an extra 200 or so years would give you just a tad more perspective than the average male...”

“How the hell do you keep turning this back to me!?” he said angrily, stepping into her, but she merely clenched her jaw and refused to budge.

“Because this *is* about you Spike. You’re right, it’s not about me, it’s about your own screwed-up self image. If I gave you a soul, would you stay then? Huh? You wouldn’t be Angel, you‘d just be Spike with a soul. William, right?” Willow asked, staring blankly at him.

“I don’t want a bloody soul!” Spike yelled, backing away finally. “I wanna be left alone! I’m not who you think I am and I’m not gonna go soft just ‘cause you’re havin’ a baby.”

“I’m having OUR baby, Spike. Not *a* baby, not *your* baby, not *my* baby. It takes two, Spike. This isn’t going away, Spike, this isn’t something that disappears overnight. I was there, you took me, and it happened. Maybe it was your fault, maybe Angelus’, but it wasn’t mine. I didn’t ask for this.”

“Do you think I did?” he said angrily.

“Did I? Did you? Did Angel? Did Buffy ask to lose the love of her life? Did I asked to be raped? Did anyone ask to be killed in a hurricane, or to be killed in a car crash? No one asks, but we all have to deal with it. If you leave, you won’t come back. I won’t let you. You either want a part in your child’s life or you don’t.” She said, shaking, and Spike looked back up to her as the wind blew, sending a new scent his way.

“You need to calm down, luv.”

Willow, not listening, continued on. “You can’t handle the consequences? Then leave.” Willow yelled at him. “We don’t need you here.”

Spike stepped toward her, worriedly.

“Please calm down, luv.”

“Stick with yer humans, Pet. And I’ll stick to my kind, is that the idea, Spike!?” she screamed at him.

Spike stepped toward her again, and Willow broke down. She turned to run back inside but a searing pain shot through her stomach, and Spike barely managed to grab her before she hit the wood of the deck face first.

She tried to curl in his arms, whimpering, unable to scream, but her stomach would not allow the moment. The scent he had picked up before hit him full force.

Blood.

“Oh God…” He whispered hoarsely, scooping her into his arms. “Buffy!!”

*****

Spike burst through the double doors at the entrance of the emergency room, Willow cradled in his arms. His excess caution did her no good, however; she had long since fallen into complete unconsciousness. Buffy and Xander weren’t far behind, Buffy looking strained and scared, Xander out of breath behind her.

“Why can’t I have normal human friends?“ He had time to mutter to himself, before Spike drowned out all sound of his mutterings.

“Can’t you people do your fucking jobs!?” A pair of nurses who had been chatting amiably behind the check-in counter jumped to action as Spike’s screaming cut through the formerly quiet night. One ran for an attendant, and returned in less than thirty seconds with a stretcher, where Willow was placed, after the attendant managed to pry her from Spike’s arms. Laid upon the gurney, the nurse and the attendant quickly checked her pulse and her blood pressure, eyes immediately widening in panicked unison. They didn’t need the information, however, for shortly after Willow touched the sterile white of the gurney, the sheets immediately began to turn red as the blood in her clothes soaked into the fabric.

“This one’s losing blood fast! Contact Dr. Pritchard, we’ve got to get her into surgery quick.”

“She’s having a baby!” Buffy broke in, as several more people in hospital uniforms seemed to materialize from various corners.

“Christ!,” the attendant snarled, wheeling the gurney quickly in a separate direction. “Get Pritchard fast, god dammit, we’re going to lose her!”

The virtual convoy of doctors, nurses, and attendants that had gathered around the prone redhead, paling more and more with each passing second, began to move ahead, and Spike was not far after them.

He got as far as the hall entrance before Buffy, grabbed him by the arm, jerking him back harshly.

“We’re not allowed to go in!” She yelled at him.

“I’m the baby’s father, I can do what I bloody well like.” Spike growled, yanking his arm free, rearing back to hit her when she grabbed for him again.

“Spike!” Xander said, diving forward to try and out himself between them, which even the dumbest parts of him agreed was a... well... dumb thing to do. “She’s in trouble, Spike. This isn’t a normal birth; they’ve got to have the room. They can’t have you distracting them when they’re trying to save both her and the baby. Please, just let them work.” Something felt vaguely wrong about attempting to pacify the obviously enraged vampire, soothing him as though he were a close friend, but this was Willow’s.... whatever.... and if she wanted him around, then Xander could try, try, to get along.

Xander stared at him pleadingly, the worried look on his face mirroring everyone else’s. “They need the space, Spike. Please, please, just let them do their job.”

Spike glanced from Xander to Buffy, jaw tightening, before spinning away from both of them, wishing he didn’t have to do this in front of *them*. Xander placed a hand on Buffy’s arm, staring at her for a moment.

“I’ll call Giles, see if he can get into contact with Willow’s parents.” Buffy nodded and tried to smile, but it was a pale imitation that suffered it‘s way across her lips.

“Alright.” Xander threw a cautionary look at Spike, who was busily attempting to wear a hole in the tile of the emergency room floor. “Are you two going to be alive when I get back?” He said slowly, afraid that without him there Buffy and Spike wouldn’t last two minutes without ripping each other to shreds.

It appeared, however, that Spike’s anger had subsided into a panicked worry he made no effort to hide, and he paced before the receptionist’s counter as if he was the only one there. Buffy nodded at him, unable to answer him.

Xander gave her a grim smile and a small squeeze on the arm, knowing how she felt about hospitals. A grim smile was given him in return, and Xander turned and left, in search of a phone.

“What happened?” Buffy asked after a long silence, voice shaking as her jaw quivered in combined concern and anger.

Years of experience told her one thing: Something had happened to Willow, and it had to be Spike‘s fault.

Spike turned and glared at her, face tight as well, and Buffy wondered briefly just how much effort was holding back his real face.

Her tone was accusing him, that much was obvious. He wasn’t going to stand by and let her accuse him of anything.

“She went into labour, bint, what do you think?”

“She’s early, Spike! What did you do to her? She was fine before you got there tonight! If you stressed her out in anyway…” Buffy growled, stepping forward warningly.

“I didn’t do anything!” Spike yelled back at her. “This isn’t my fault.”

“Well if you ask me, it’s all your fault. None of this would have happened if you would have stayed away from her!” Buffy shot back.

“Stay out of it. Slayer. Willow’s made it quite clear she’s not gonna take this from you.” Spike reminded her.

“Willow isn’t here right now, Spike, Willow’s lying in an operating room, bleeding to death, all because of you! If it were me in there, she’d do the same.” Buffy grated out, fists clenched by her hips, arms tense and ready to swing.

“What!? She’d take out her frustrations on me because she couldn’t face up to her own responsibility?” Spike snarled back, leaning forward to look at her incredulously.

“What responsibility?” Buffy demanded, faltering for all of a second before her resolve returned. “None of this is my fault.”

“If you’d have looked after her like you were supposed to, none of this would have happened. Not me, not Angelus, and certainly not this! The way I look at it, ALL of this is your fault, you stupid bitch.” Spike spat at her.

Buffy screamed something at him, near incoherently, and sprung at him. Spike stepped forward, ready to fight, relieved to have some way to release the tension inside him, from worry.

Xander forced his way between them again, wondering for the second time that night how stupid this was, before forcing all of his body weight into Buffy’s greater strength, finally managing to set her off balance and shove her back.

“Hey!” Xander’s voice broke through the haze of anger between them. “Willow is in there, my best friend, and God knows if she’s going to come out alive. You think listening to her best friend and the father of her child about to rip each other’s throats out is going to give her the strength to get through this? Is a future with life entirely divided between her friends and her family going to give her something to strive toward!? If you‘re not going to try and help, then leave right now. Both of you.” Xander was near tears, not taking his eyes off Buffy. “I would have expected more from you Buffy, aren’t you supposed to be the strong one here!? He’s scared, Buffy, he’s scared out of his mind and that’s why he’s looking to pick a fight with you, because he wants to be anything but scared, but you can’t give in Buffy! Just because you two don’t get along, do not make this harder on Willow.”

Spike tensed, preparing to deny his fear, but the brunette turned to look at him, the boy’s face taut and wet with tears, and he had to look away. Buffy stared at Xander a moment, clenching and unclenching her fists, before she turned her head as well and sat down on the chairs, looking at her feet.

“This baby is already going to have to deal with vampire issues and all sorts…at least let the kid have a stress free birth.” Xander told them staring between them. “And for the goddamned record, it’s nobody’s fault.” He yelled finally, before walking and taking a place near the hall entrance.

Spike looked up at Xander, and his voice shook as he spoke. He spared no attention to it, however.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Xander nodded slowly, staring down at the floor as well. “I know, Spike. Willow knows it, too. She’s.... forgiven you, and she’s willing to let you have a place in your child’s life... But you have to be strong right now. Willow can’t have strength for the both of you when she’s fighting for her life... You’ve got to be the strength between you.”

Spike shifted awkwardly, momentarily sharing Buffy‘s posture, staring down at his feet. “Yeah, I know.”

The silence pressed in on them, the only sound echoing in from behind the double doors, where doctor’s were working diligently and quickly.

“Jeez... it’s really pathetic when I have to go motivation-guy for you, too,” Xander quipped weakly and Buffy snorted softly, though the action only made her dissolve into tears.

“Did you get through to Giles?” Buffy asked Xander, hands reaching up to rub at her face. He nodded back, giving her a small smile.

“He’s going to try and get through to Willow’s parents, though I’m not sure there’s much point. It’s not like they’ll get here in time..” Buffy nodded, sniffling loudly. “Hey... don‘t worry, Buff, everything‘s gonna work out peachy.”

Silence dropped again, but Spike’s voice broke it this time.

“Gonna kill ‘em when I get my hands on them.” Spike growled to himself, resuming his pacing suddenly. Buffy and Xander just looked at him.

“Not literally.” Spike added, after a moment, quietly. “Willow probably wouldn’t like it if I did.”

Somehow, the demon missed the chance to rail at him for being a pansy.... He merely kept pacing.

“What about Giles?” Buffy asked.

“He’ll be right over, as soon as he’s called them.” Xander said, crossing the floor to sit down beside Buffy, pulling her into his arms carefully. Buffy went willingly, resting her head on Xander’s shoulder, staring at the door.

“She’s going to be okay, right?” Buffy asked quietly, voice quivering, sounding more like the voice of a little girl than the voice of a Slayer. Xander said nothing, just laid his head over Buffy’s and waited, arms tightening around her somewhat.

Spike groaned suddenly, welcoming unconsciously the chance to get his mind off Willow, and placed his hand on his stomach.

“I’m hungry.”

Buffy glared at him, in response, and he glared back as well.

“Don’t even think about it, Fangface.”

“What? The place reeks of blood! What in the hell am I, a saint?” Spike complained.

“That‘s *Willow’s* blood.” Xander pointed out, quietly, after a moment.

“Didn’t say I was going to eat *her*, did I?” Spike told him, trying to keep up his previous fervour, but he visibly deflated, fidgeting restlessly. “I was just saying anyway. Not leaving her until I know she’s okay.” His voice was quiet, before he tightened his jaw again and marched toward the hall, trying to see something through the small wire-reinforced windows set in the door.

“Sun’ll be up soon. Unless you want your kid playing with your dust pile, you’re going to have to go home.” Xander reminded him.

“No windows round here. I’ll wait.” Spike argued, barely glancing back at him.

Buffy went to open her mouth to argue, but a multitude of yells erupted from the operating room, along with one long low sound that went straight to her heart.

She barely made it to her feet in time to pull Spike back from the door, but she was too late, and he barrelled through, nearly cracking the wall as the heavy steel door hit it.

The place was chaos, doctors and nurses running about the cold room, nothing but white tile and grey steel. A yell ripped from the head surgeon, and Buffy and Spike were shoved aside as two new attendants appeared, wheeling a cart with them.

Buffy choked, unable to hear the words from his mouth, yet somehow understanding them.

“Hurry! We’re losing her!” The cart screeched to a halt beside the table, prepared quickly, and the paddles were pressed to the patient’s chest.

The body jerked, and the heart monitor gave a jump, the heart flopping listlessly for several seconds before the sound started again.

Her eyes never left the table, but somehow she saw Spike beside her, falling, falling until he hit his knees. The smell of blood assaulted her nostrils suddenly, and the smell of death.

No, Buffy thought, No, Willow’s alive, she’s screaming, she’s alive!

It took her several moments to realize that it was her own voice screaming, but even that sound didn’t drown out that horrible, horrible drone beneath it all.

Buffy slowly crumpled to the floor as well, the screaming stopping as her breath left her.

The operating room slowly fell into resigned, sorrowful silence.

The flat line continued, seeming to sever every tie Buffy held to reality before a bloody glove snapped, the Slayer‘s vision steadily darkening, and a pale brown hand reached over to turn off the monitor.

“Time of death for the mother is 10:29 PM. Hurry up, people.... We’ve got get this baby out of her before it smothers.”

Buffy never heard him, however. She was already gone.

*****
5 years later
*****

The silent graveyard began to darken as the sun set behind the trees. The air was cool and moist, for summer had yet to come to dry out the effects of the damp winter. The ground, for this reason, was soft, and proved a treacherous trail for high heels.

Sinking a bit with every step, Buffy walked closer to the lone grave that stood beneath the shade of the only willow tree in the cemetery. She stared at it silently for a moment, observing the cold granite face that did no justice to the warm heart she knew resided just below the surface, under six feet of dirt and grass. Her lips were pressed together as she began walking again, moving on weak legs toward the grave. Once at its side, Buffy dropped slowly to her knees, smiling awkwardly at the silent ground.

“Hey,” she whispered, sniffling, and finally failing to hold back the tears in her eyes. She smiled again, wanly, and laid the bouquet of lilies she’d brought. “Yeah, I know, it’s cliché, but.... hey, so is black leather and vampires and look at Spike!” Her voice cracked at the end, losing all of its pseudo-joviality.

“It’s your anniversary, you know, and I figured I oughta be all formal... Cause it’s been five years since you died...” she paused, overtaken by the tears. “And I miss you more now than I ever did then.... I don’t think it ever hit me... how much I’d miss you when you were gone... But I know now.... god I know now....” She let the sobs break out, as they rarely did, leaning forward to press her forehead against the ground, one hand stroking the grass as though she could reach the hand below the ground.

“Now I know.... I know that you only ever did what you thought best... and the mistakes... oh the mistakes would never hold up against all the good things you did... I miss you so much... I keep... I keep thinking about the night you died.... I had to watch you die... and there was nothing to do... For once, there was nothing to do, nothing I could do.... and I just think back.... and I wish there was something I could say... to make you hear me now, so you could know all the things that I never got to say to you... How much I love you, and how much you meant to me... how much you helped me along, and how much I feel at a lack for it when I suddenly realize that you’re gone... that you’re never gonna come back ever. That you’re never gonna smile at me again, never going to suffer through anymore silly movies with me, never going to try and laugh at my lame jokes anymore.... It hurts so much to know that you’re really, really gone.... It goes away sometimes, and I can almost pretend that you’re just away for a little while, that you’ll be back.... but then I see Spike, and Billy and oh... you’d be so proud of them both. Spike’s a wonderful Daddy.... you were right to trust him in the end... I can see that now. Like you saw it then....” she sat up slowly, still stroking the grass slowly, wishing that she wasn’t here, in a graveyard, speaking to a coffin beneath the ground.

“And Billy’s so smart.... we named him after his Daddy, you know... Both of them in a way, cause you know Liam, William... But he’s so smart... he’s just like his Mom.” She smiled fondly down at the grave. “And he got his temper and his behaviour from his Father, boy did he ever... He’s a devious little brat, and he’s only 5... You’d have such a time with him... But I know he would have liked to have you there...” She choked up again, barely able to continue speaking. “I know he wishes he could have seen your face just once, just like I wish I could see it again... At least I had the privilege of knowing you.... he never did... and he wishes that he did... When Spike talks about you, or when I do, he always gets this little wistful look on his face, cause he’s wishing... he’s wishing that you were there to be telling those stories instead of me, or Spike... I wish you could have known him, too...”

The grave offered up no reply to her, and that fact did nothing to dry her tears.

“Stop your blubbering, Slayer,” said a soft and solemn voice from the shadows. Buffy turned slowly, still sniffling when she faced him.

“Daddy... you shouldn’t be mean to Auntie Slayer. Mommy wouldn’t be happy about it if she knew, remember?”

“I’m not being mean, Rugrat...” he said softly, swinging the 5 year old up into his arms as he took the last few steps forward and lay a rose on the grave, stopping to kiss his fingertips and lay his hand on the tombstone. Buffy bowed her head again, trying to dry her tears.

Billy sighed to himself, wrapping his arms around his Dad’s neck and staring down at the grave, trying for a solemn face, but could only manage to breach confusion.

“Why do you come here if it makes you both so sad?”

“Because, Munchkin, it’s what people do when they honour those who have died before them.”

“Oh,” the boy said, trying for solemn again, pursing his lips and beetling his brows. Buffy choked when she saw the expression, bending her head to wipe at her eyes again.

“I know,” Spike said quietly. “The resemblance is uncanny, right?”

“Yeah.... he’s like a mirror... He never had to see it for himself to duplicate it.... It must be in his blood,” she sniffled, laughing weakly.

Billy wriggled in his Father’s arms for a moment.

“Lemme down, Dad.” Spike set him down eventually, but placed his hands on his son’s shoulders as the much smaller male looked at the grave too.

“What’s ‘to honour’ mean, Dad?”

“It means.... to remember... and to be thankful for what that person did for you.”

“I don’t remember,” Billy said, quietly, looking deflated. “Should I remember, Dad?”

“No, Rugrat,” he said quietly, ruffling the curly mop of sandy blonde hair that adorned his son’s head. “You wouldn’t remember this person, but I want you to know about them anyway.... A lot of people loved you before you were even born, Munchkin, and some of them even died for you, so you could live.”

The small boy frowned, staring down at his feet.

“I don’t think I like that. I don’t think I like people dying because of me...”

“Don’t worry about it, Billy-Boy... The choice wasn’t yours... and if even if you had a say in the matter, it wouldn’t have changed anything. That right there,” he said, pointing to the grave. “is where, I bet you, that you got all that stubbornness of yours. And I bet you, too, that I’m being laughed at every time I try to wrangle you into the bathtub... This must be my penance,” he said, grinning down at the child who had suddenly gotten a sickened expression at the mention of a bath.

“Oh,” Billy said quietly, before adding, “I still don’t like people dying.... You won’t die, will you?” he asked, very quietly, waiting a moment before staring up at his Father.

“No, Munchkin. I won’t die on you...”

The boy nodded, satisfied with the response, before he got a troubled look. “What about Auntie Slayer? And Unca Sanders? Will they die?”

“You shouldn’t worry about your Uncle Xander, Billy, he can take care of himself,” Buffy said quietly, smiling over at the young boy, before she raised her gaze to Spike’s and waited until her eyes were locked with his. “And as for me, Billy-Boy.... I’m not gonna die and leave you either... Just like your Daddy.”

The moment passed in silence, the only recognition from the other coming in a slight widening of the eyes before the vampire crumpled under the intensity of the resolve in the Slayer’s gaze, lowering his eyes before scooping his son into his arms again.

“Okay then,” Billy said, quietly, but happily, smiling a little.

“Say goodbye, Billy,” Spike said quietly, mind still whirling slightly.

“Bye bye, GranDa.” Billy said with a little wave to the silent gravestone as the pair walked away.

“Goodbye, Angel,” Buffy said as well, brushing some invisible speck of dirt from the tombstone. “I’ll see you next year...”

Buffy stood as well, finally, and began walking away, and somehow it didn’t surprise her when she ran into the same pair again.

“Come on, Slayer. It’s dinner as always. Xander doesn’t exactly agree with the sentiments, but you know how he is with food. No wonder to me the boy became a chef, much as he likes food. It is a wonder though, how his customers get anything, with as much as he ‘tastes’ things...”

Buffy laughed a little, but pulled up short when Spike stopped.

“What is it?”

But that’s when she heard it, a pounding on the ground, and soon a breathless redhead came into their view, waving her hands for them to step, the sounds coming from her boots on the hollow ground.

Spike smiled to himself, not surprised when the muscles in his face quivered slightly. He never failed to feel his heart stop whenever he saw her, though it had not beat for nearly two hundred years. He was somehow always brought back to the moment when, pallid and lifeless, she’d lain upon a gurney stained with her own blood, brought back to the moment when the long, low whine of a flatline had filled his ears and his head until he thought he’d scream, and brought back to a place where her body suddenly shook, gasping for air, her heart jumping back into life only seconds after efforts to resuscitate her had stopped.

“Mommy!” Billy yelled loudly, fairly springing out of Spike’s arms and into Willow’s.

“Hey, Sweetie,” Willow said, smiling, moving to kiss her son on the cheek and return his hug. “I’m sorry I’m running late. There were a few unanticipated problems with the new computer system... I should have known better than to trust Davan to install it. What’d I miss?”

“We talked,” Billy said, with his wrinkly solemn look.

“Oh?” Willow asked, eyebrows rising.

“About--” Spike made an effort to interrupt his son...

“Death.” ... and failed.

“Oh?” Willow said again, eyebrows raising even higher as she turned her gaze to Spike, who had the good grace to look sheepish for a few seconds, before he jumped, straightened, and glared back at her challengingly.

He lasted for all of a few seconds... yet again.

“Daddy said GranDa Angel died for me...”

“He did, Munchkin,” Willow said after a minute, brushing his hair back carefully.

“Cause he loved me?” Willow nodded in response. “How’d he die, Mommy?” Silence stretched for a moment as the three adults exchanged glances with one another, and it was a long moment before Buffy answered, smiling.

“He died in his sleep, Billy-Boy,” she said quietly, tears shimmering in her eyes again. “He died in his sleep after saving you, Mommy, and Daddy.”

“Oh...” Billy said again. “I won’t die in my sleep, will I?”

“No, Sweetie, you won’t. GranDa Angel was very old when he died.” Willow answered, frowning at Spike when he reached over and ruffled Billy’s hair again.

“But Daddy’s very old, isn’t he? He isn’t going to die in his sleep is he? Cause he said he wasn’t ever going to die...” Billy frowned a little, trying to wrap his mind around what was being said.

Willow sighed slowly, before reaching up to smooth Billy’s hair down again.

“Maybe this is a discussion we should save until you’re older, Munchkin.”

“Okay,” the boy agreed, enthusiastically. “Cause you don’t make any sense... maybe I’ll be able to understand when I’m older, and don’t make any sense, too,” he said, with utmost seriousness before wriggling again. “Come on, Mommy, I’m hungry! And you know Unca Sanders is going to be making that nummy Sodabread stuff that came from Air-land just like GranDa.”

Willow laughed a little, hugging her son close and smothering his face with kisses, then laughing as he ‘yuck!’ed after each one.

“Come on then, Spike Junior. Mr. I-Got-Bored-Cause-I-Have-No-Patience has obviously given you all of his bad traits, and none of his good.... Although I can’t be entirely sure there’s any good for him to be giving.”

“My good looks,” Spike said huffily. “I’ll have you know he’s going to be quite the little lady-killer when he grows up.”

Buffy merely gave him a look at that, and the vampire glared back at her.

“Hey, mind out of the morgue, Slayer.”

“She knows what you meant, Spike,” Willow said quietly, reaching over to grab his hand and give it a little squeeze, smiling up at him softly.

He smiled back at her, slowly, searching her eyes. She faltered somewhat, under his gaze, but refused to back down from it.

“Commere, Munchkin,” he said, eyes still locked on Willow’s. “You’re gonna break your Mum’s arm.”

“Okkie,” the still-impatient five year old said, crawling over into Spike’s grasp as his parents stepped closer together to facilitate the exchange.

Their eyes met again, over their son’s head, and the moment seemed frozen in time. It wasn’t long however, until the moment was again shattered by a squirming little boy.

“Hey! We’re not going anywhere!”

“Come on, Brat, stop bugging your parents, I’ll take you to Xander’s.”

With that, Billy jumped down out of his father’s arms, running to Buffy, who scooped him up just as quickly. Neither of the other adults seemed to notice.

They stood before each other, not moving, for several minutes before Spike cracked suddenly, lowering his head slowly to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. He wouldn’t kiss her on the lips until she kissed him. He didn’t want to force any intimate contact on her that she didn’t want, or wasn’t prepared for.

His lips had barely left her skin when she surprised him again, by sighing gently and wrapping her arms around his waist. He responded by wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead before peppering them all around her face, loving but chaste. He felt her smile, and turned his head slightly to kiss the very corner of her mouth. She completed the movement, shifting her head the fraction necessary to bring their lips together.

He could feel her tense in his arms, so he kissed her gently, barely moving his lips against hers. However, she did not pull away, as he had feared, but responded very slowly, the kiss steadily deepening until her tongue slid slowly into his mouth, his own tongue caressing hers, never initiating, only responding.

She pulled away slowly, several moments later, lips pressing together as she stared up at him questioningly.

“Whatever you want, luv,” he whispered, reaching up to touch her face gently with his hand. She smiled at him in return, and squeezed his waist with her arms.

“We’re going to be late,” she whispered back, suddenly leaning up on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips, pulling back enough to smile, and slip her hand into his.

“You’re right,” he said, a soft grin pulling at his lips. “Xander said if we’re ever late again, he’ll be cooking us next time...”

“Then we’d better hurry, huh?” She laughed, squeezing his hand before beginning to walk, ‘pulling’ him after her until he met her pace, and walked beside her.

A moment passed in silence, before the pair disappeared around a corner.

A soft sigh escaped the shadows, followed by a snort.

“Incurable romantic.”

“Say all you like. It’s taken them bloody well long enough. I thought the boy’d never learn.”

“Aye,” Liam said quietly, smiling to himself. “It certainly has taken them long enough. I’m surprised it took all that just to get them together. Why couldn’t they’ve just met over coffee or something, instead of all this?”

“Eh,” William said, dismissively, waving a hand. “Mortals and demons alike have to make everything complicated. Besides, if they’d just met over coffee, they wouldn’t have Billy.”

“Eh,” the other soul said, floating down from the limb where he’d been perched. “Eh indeed.”

“Come on and stop stalling, I’ve got a coffee date myself.”

“Norma Jean again?”

“Yes,” William said brightly. “People would be surprised to know just how very intelligent Marilyn is.”

“Hrmph,” Liam said. “I’m sure you visit her just for the conversation, too.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know, unlike you, I actually wait about for my soulmate.”

“Piffle.” Liam snorted in response, before realizing just what William had said. "And hey! I'll have you know I remain as faithful to Buffy as she's remained to me all these years."

“I'm sure you do, you great womaniser, now stay off of my language, you bloody bogtrotter.”

Liam glared at him, and took a swing, then grumbled when his fist passed right through him.

“Damned inter-dimensional rules... I’ll see you on the Elysian Fields later, ya illbred pommie.”

“Now you see here!!!”

The bickering pair disappeared as well, leaving the moon continuing to rise quietly over the not-so quiet town of Sunnydale, where one decision can change your life, and sometimes, just sometimes, miracles can happen....

Nine Months Later.

*****

The End