[A/N: Didn’t really expect this to move as fast, but well, there you have it. I can actually write something that isn’t epic in length. Ha! There’s lots more where this is concerned. To Aoife and Shauna – thanks for the reviews and I’ll answer your questions (comments) regarding the language and the mythology. The language is not strictly Irish, done so deliberately. It is an amalgam of Irish, Scots, and Welsh, and quite possibly some of the syntaxes are also stilted (again, done deliberately). As for the mythology, well, I’m a Celt. I am a pagan and a witch. I believe in the Celtic deities, though I also honor some of the others (Isis, Kuan Yin, etc.) so it is natural for me to incorporate those deities in the story. In canon, Willow called upon Osiris, but he was not the only deity to have control over life and death – each pantheon has their own arbiter. The Celtic connection grew out of my own beliefs, as well as the “English” connection within canon. Hope that helps a bit. Title and quotes are as attributed, since I’m not nearly as witty or pithy as some people. Disclaimers mean that I don’t own a bloody thing. Except for the plot. And the computer. Other than that? I’m as poor as a church mouse.]

Previously: The Council, in the form of Quentin Travers, has agreed to protect and pay various members of the new Scoobies, and more importantly, the miracle that is the new Summers baby (except they have no idea how many that might be); Riley is leading the Initiative into uncharted waters that can prove dangerous – but for whom? And Buffy is about to give birth.


Book Three

Chapter Twenty-Two Not exactly pleasant

Giving birth may be all intense and magical and stuff
but the act itself is not exactly pleasant.
But it's also the beginning of something incredible...
something new...
something unpredictable...
something true...
something worth loving...
something worth missing...
something that will change your life forever.
Dr. Meredith Grey: Grey's Anatomy, Piece of My Heart




“Targets are nearing the subject location.”

“Affirmative. Do not approach.”

“Roger.”

“All units report.”

“S-One.”

“S-Three.”

“S-Four.”

“S-Five.”

“Unit One, remain in position.”

“Unit Two, report.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Riley was getting frustrated. No one had seen or heard from Watkins since his second report at approximately 13:45 hours as he was getting into position behind the Magic Box. A niggling worry was beginning to form and he wondered, not for the first time, if Watkins had been compromised or captured.

Graham hadn’t report in either. In fact, he hadn’t followed Riley and Gebhardt when they left the Espresso Pump. At least not directly. Riley had no idea where he was now, since he wasn’t reporting in or responding on the private radio frequency they used.

Abruptly, Riley changed his mind about leaving Sloth in position at the Magic Box. All reports indicated that no one was there, and likely none of them were about to return. “Unit One, belay that order. Rendezvous with all other units at target location.”

“Affirmative.”

It was time they all settled in. Riley had a funny feeling things were going to happen tonight.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Grace was in the kitchen when Dawn thundered down the stairs. “Sweetie, you’re gonna have to learn to be lighter on your feet.”

“Why?” Dawn looked around, wondering what Grace was doing. There were three pots of water going and she had a tray set up with bandages, scissors, cotton balls, antiseptic wash, and a few other things Dawn was sure she’d never seen before.

“Well, for one thing, there’s gonna be two new babies around, and for another, it’s always a good idea to be graceful.” The tall woman busied herself at the stove, covering two of the pots. “Be a dear and get me the pasta.”

“You’re making pasta?” Dawn shot her a quizzical look. “I thought you were boiling water for the babies.”

“What do you think I’m adding to the pasta?”

Dawn whirled around, grabbing the first sharp knife she could find, only to see Grace pointing at her and laughing hysterically. “You should see the look on your face!”

“Not funny.” Slamming the knife down on the counter, Dawn grumbled some more. “Really. There’s enough going on without you going crazy, too.”

“Oh, come on, Dawn, you have to admit it was a little funny.” Grace’s grin was infectious, as was her laughter, and despite the scare, Dawn found herself giggling a little.

“You’re very twisted, you know that?”

“Yup. I sure do.” Their laughter died down and Grace covered the last pot. “Actually, I am making pasta. It’ll keep, and everyone can eat when they get in, without any of us having to worry about fixing food.”

“That’s a good idea.” Tara’s voice accompanied the closing of the back door. “I need to get clean and then I’ll be down to help, okay?”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” The sewer stench hit both of the other females at the same time and Dawn wrinkled her nose.

“Ew. You guys came through the sewers?”

“Yes. They. . . Giles a – and Wesley figured it was the safest for us. Can this wait? I really need to shower.” Tara kept edging her way through the kitchen, trying to keep her distance from the other two and at the same time head for the basement. “I won’t be long.”

Grace waved her off, “Don’t worry. I figure we’ve got a couple of hours before anything really starts happening.”

“I don’t know. Buffy’s pains were coming closer together.” Tara slid through the door, clattering quickly down the stairs, leaving Grace to re-assess the time table.

“Damn.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Jenner emerged from the sewers halfway between the house and the Magic Box after backtracking from the spot where Spike and the girls left the sewers. He was heading back to the shop, his job to protect the two still there and keep an eye on the sniper.

The streets were quiet, even the downtown area. It was eerie, the lack of humans on the streets of this town after dark. He’d never been around during what Spike and Buffy referred to as ‘apocalypse season’, though he imagined it was a bit like this. Every living thing, demonic or human was hunkered down, avoiding whatever disaster loomed.

A shadow moved behind him and Jenner smiled into the darkness. “Paulie, I told you to stay away.”

“Can’t do that.” The little Welshman shrugged. “Wouldn’t feel safe doing it.”

“Alright then.” The older vampire studied him for a moment, reaching a decision. “Head back to the shop and watch out for the humans there. Don’t get caught.”

“Won’t.” Paulie skulked away with a wave of his hand over his shoulder while Jenner ruefully shook his head. Don’t know why I bother giving orders. Isn’t a damn one of them that listens to me.

Staring up at the building in front of him, Jenner made quick work of the climb up. Three rooftops away, the sniper was folding up his gear, obviously preparing to move. Looks like their orders have changed. . .


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Can I change my mind?” Buffy looked up at Spike as they neared the front porch. “This probably is just a false alarm, you know, from all the stress.”

He stared at her for a moment, half convinced she was out of her mind.

“Really. It could just be that.” Buffy pulled away from him, turning to get a look at his expression. “Don’t look at me like I’m a ‘daft bird’, or whatever it is you’re thinking. I could just be having Biggston thingies.”

“Braxton-Hicks, you daft woman.” An indulgent smile was playing about his lips, though he was shaking his head. “Don’t think so, sweetheart. ‘M thinkin’ you’re going to have those babies tonight.”

“You can’t know that. It could be days. Maybe even weeks.” Her tone was beginning to sound petulant, and he just chuckled at her.

“Hours, pet. That’s all we’ve got before they arrive.” He opened the door, sweeping his arm so that she preceded him. “Mark m’words.”

“Nahuh.” Her nose and chin tilted imperiously in the air as she walked past him, which was marred when she faltered over the threshold. “Oh. Ow.”

Buffy’s arm cupped her belly and she bent over, trying to alleviate the pain wracking her insides. The strongest contraction she’d felt so far ripped through her and she faltered again as she tried to step forward. “Uh oh. Oooh.”

Spike was at her side instantly, his arm supporting her as he bellowed out, “Niblet!”

“Owie, owie. . . . owie.” Buffy stopped moving, unable to do anything but breathe through the pain. “Augh! This is . . . “ She lapsed into silence, rocking sideways into Spike.

“Oh boy. This is not good.” Dawn stood by the stairs, eyes riveted to the pair stuck in the doorway. “We’re not ready.”

“Doesn’t look like that matters much, right now,” Spike ground out. “Where’re the witches?”

“Right here.” Kait was standing on the stairs, while Grace hovered behind Dawn. “You need to get her upstairs.”

“Wait. . . wait.” Buffy panted heavily, then inhaled deeply through her nose. “Ooops.”

“Best get her in the shower, Spike.” Grace stepped around Dawn, moving to Buffy’s other side. “Her water’s just broken.”

He reeled back, the smell hitting his nose the same time Grace’s words did. Even so, it took him a moment or two to make some sense of it. “Oh.” And then, “Bloody hell! Now?”

Soft laughter greeted his reaction. “Yes, Spike. Right now.”

“Wonderful.” Buffy still couldn’t take a step and Spike’s patience ran out. “Picking you up, kitten. Brace yourself.”

“Wait, I can walk.” She tried pushing him away, but he was prepared for it, capturing her hand in one of his.

“No. Not gonna make it up the stairs on your own, so stop fightin’ me.” He slid his left arm around her waist, tipping her back into his arms. “Work with me here.”

“Fine.” She capitulated petulantly, a pout blooming on her lips. “But you’re not carrying me everywhere.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pet.” Spike shouldered his way past the women, easily taking the stairs by twos, despite his burden. “Humor me for a bit.”

Their squabbling drifted away down the second floor hallway while Grace and Kait shared a look.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Targets have entered the subject premises.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Unit Two, what is your location?”

“Trailing Unit One.”

“What is your ETA?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Affirmative.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The bell over the door startled him, and Graham ducked away from the entrance quickly, almost running down the steps to the counter. “Hello?”

No one answered, though he could hear noises from down the hallway. “Hello?”

Giles poked his head out of his office, straightening his shirt and trying not to look overly flustered. Suspicion colored his voice, “What can I do for you?”

The soldier had the courtesy to look the Englishman in the eye. “I want to give you a heads up.”

“Forgive me if I don’t trust you.” Giles peered at him over the rim of his glasses, a flinty look in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t blame you, sir. I just want you to know,” he paused for a second, looking away from the intense scrutiny, “I don’t condone his decision and I’ll be informing my superiors.”

There was no give in the older man’s gaze. “Of what exactly?”

“This mission was approved conditionally, sir. And only then if Hostile Seventeen was apprehended.” Graham flicked his eyes to the clock. “We had ten days. We’ve used up four. It’s my belief that Lieutenant Finn will spend the rest of the time trying to relieve Miss Summers of – trying to do what he said in the coffee shop.”

“Will you be informing your superiors of this course of action?”

Graham’s answer was punctuated by a short nod of his head. “Within the hour.”

“Very well.” Giles relaxed his posture minutely. “I expect your team to be removed from the Hellmouth within forty-eight hours. If that does not happen, Lieutenant, I will make my own arrangements.”

“Understood, sir.” Graham didn’t bother to say anything further. They both knew where they stood, and the time frames they were working with. Snapping a short salute, Graham turned and headed for the door.

“Lieutenant?” When the younger man paused, Giles continued, “I was entirely serious earlier, when I warned Finn. Keep that in mind.”

“Will do.”

Anya stood in the office doorway, struggling to get her shoes on. “Do you believe him?”

“I’ve no reason not to. He’s effectively undermined his fellow officer.” He reached for the phone, punching in the speed dial for the house on Revello. “Doesn’t mean I won’t warn them that Finn was serious.” A sigh shook him. “This is the last thing we need to be worrying about right now.”

“Maybe you should call the Council and let them know. Travers said he had a wetworks team available.”

“That might not be a bad idea.” He thought about it while he waited for someone to answer the phone.

“Dawn? Where’s Spike?” There was a lengthy pause, which Anya could hear despite the distance. “Oh, dear. We’ll be there shortly.”

“What’s wrong?” Anya righted her skirt, then ran her fingers through her hair.

“Buffy’s waters have broken.”

She stared at him for a moment, then grabbed her purse from beneath the counter. “I’m ready.”

“I need to secure the hostage.” Giles hit the speed dial again, this time reaching Travers. After a perfunctory greeting, Giles spoke. “Can you send someone to the shop? We’ve secured a hostage and no one can be spared to sit and watch.”

He waited while Imelda radioed his request, listening to the various responses. “Ten minutes? That’s fine. We’ll wait.”

“Oh good, that gives me time for a quick wash.” Anya headed to the bathroom, snatching up her discarded pantyhose. “I’ll be ready before they get here. Don’t forget to lock up the cash.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


In the end, it was easier to get into the shower with her than it was to stand outside and get soaking wet. Spike stripped down while Buffy leaned against the wall, grumbling and groaning the whole time. “Should I wash my hair?”

“I’ll do it. Just stand there an’ wait for me.” The thud of his boots hitting the door was muffled by the running water and he scooped the clothes off the floor, stuffing them into the laundry bin. “Two shakes, an’ ‘ll be there.”

“What does that mean? Two shakes? Two shakes of what?” Buffy was babbling, her brain focusing on the weirdest things. She knew Spike had explained this expression once before, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Or why she was even caring about it.

Spike stepped inside the tub, shaking his head. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Jus’ keep breathin’.”

“I’m breathing.” She huffed out a full breath at him. “See?”

He chuckled, turning her around to push her head under the water. “I see. Keep it that way.” Dumping shampoo onto her head, Spike quickly washed her, not taking his usual time. “Don’t have much time to lollygag in here. Gotta get done an’ get out.”

“It feels good though, I like this.” Buffy leaned into his chest, ignoring the rhythmic pains gripping her internally. “Can we stay here for a little while?”

Spike watched the muscles bunching and tensing under her skin, listening intently for the steady thumping of the three hearts, timing the movements. “Close your eyes.” He angled her head under the water again, rinsing the soap suds. “ Don’t think so. Think you’re gonna have to get out of here shortly.”

He didn’t need to see her face to know she was pouting. Before she could argue with him, Spike shushed her. “Can’t stop everything, kitten. Some things just have to happen. Don’t wan’ anything to happen to you, or those little ones. ‘Sides, don’t you wan’ to know if our girl’s here?” His hand rubbed across her belly, momentarily soothing the tremors. “Wonder if she knew all along, an’ that was one of the things she didn’t tell us?”

Buffy let her hand join his, their fingers meshing together over her belly. “I think she did know. Remember when she told us not to ask her too many questions?”

“Yeah.” The soap was all gone and he worked the conditioner through her hair. “Think it’s both girls?”

“I don’t know. Do you mind if they’re both girls?” Buffy turned to look at him over her shoulder and he nearly laughed at the bedraggled picture she presented. While she may be ignoring the pains, the signs were clear to see. Her eyes were tired, their color reduced to a dull, mossy greenish-brown while lines of fatigue and dark circles etched her face.

“Talked about this, didn’t we?” He shrugged, motioning her to duck again. “Don’t rightly care one way or the other. This is all a bloody miracle to me. ‘S long as everyone is fine an’ healthy, doesn’t matter.”

She was quiet while he washed the rest of her, her mind drifting along, her senses registering the feel of his hands soothing her, the sharp smell of the body wash, and the pulse and pull of her body. “Might be nice to have a boy.”

“Hhmm.” He didn’t comment further, just let her ramble as he made sure she was clean.

“Don’t you think so?” She looked down at his head, idly noting the strength in his muscles and width of his shoulders. “What happens if we have a little girl and she’s – she’s all girly?” She fretted. “I don’t think I know how to be that kind of a mom. Little boys could be easier. Trucks and swords and all sorts of things. I know how to do all that stuff.”

Spike stopped for a moment, resting his head against her belly. “Sweetheart, you’re . . . You’re. . . “ He shook his head again, trying to find the words to explain how groundless and irrational her sudden fears were. “You know all about being a girl.”

He grabbed her hand, looking at her fingers. “You fight and slay demons all the time, yeah? But you still get your nails done. Still make sure you’re a girl. Don’t think you have anythin’ to worry ‘bout there.” Spike turned her hand over, laying a kiss in the palm of her hand. “You’re going to be a fine mum, jus’ like Joyce was.”

Sudden tears sprung up in her eyes and Buffy stared down at him. “How come you always know what to say?”

“Years of saying the wrong things.” He stood up, stepping out of the shower. “C’mon, kitten, we’ve stalled here long enough.”

“Spike? Are you sure about the names?” She let him lift her out of the tub, holding onto him tightly.

“I’m sure.” He dried her off, wrapping her old bathrobe around her. “Go on inside, sweets, I’ll be right behind you.”

“Promise?”

“Silly question that. Already know the answer.”

Buffy waddled out of the bathroom. “Just checking.”

“Cheeky.” Snapping up a towel and winding it around his hips, Spike followed behind Buffy, his eyes riveted on her. “Everything’ll be fine, love.”

“Hah. You’re just saying that so I don’t wig.”

Spike caught up with her just inside the bedroom door. “Sayin’ it so we both don’t.” He nuzzled her for a moment, then pushed her to the bed. “Sit. Rest. ‘M gonna get dressed.”

Instead of sitting, Buffy curled up on her side, watching him. “I think I’m more comfy like this.”

He watched her in the mirror as she closed her eyes and immediately fell asleep. Momentary relief flooded through him, though the worry and fear were still there. Can’t be that close if she’s sleeping. . . right?







So. . . we're getting closer. I'm off for vacation and a much needed rest. Hope everyone's week is good one.