[A/N: I know I’ve been stringing you all along, and I’m sorry about that. Hopefully, that’ll stop now, especially since we now have enough computers in the house for everyone. Not that we’ll talk to each other, except via Messenger or something like that, but eh, you never know. So that last chapter was a doozy, wasn’t it? Can’t promise this one will live up to it, but I’ll do my best. Title and quotes are as attributed, and the disclaimers mean the short dude in California owns everything. Sometimes life just isn’t fair. . . ]


Previously: Cordelia’s had a vision about Sunnydale, which sent Xander heading for the place he used to call home. Travers, Giles and Wesley are doing their best to keep the Initiative and Riley from kidnaping the newest arrivals. And yes, the long awaited moment happened. Buffy and Spike are now the proud parents of twins. . . This picks up immediately after the last installment.


Book Three

Chapter Twenty-five: A dream of possibilities

A new baby is like the beginning of all things – wonder, hope, a dream of possibilities.
Eda Le Shan, The Conspiracy Against Childhood


What are little babies made of, made of?
What are little babies made of?
Diapers and crumbs and sucking their thumbs;
That's what little babies are made of?
What are little boys made of, made of?
What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails and puppy-dog tails;
That's what little boys are made of. And such are...
What are little girls made of, made of?
What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice and everything nice;
That's what little girls are made of.
Attributed to Robert Southey, What Are Folks Made of?, about 1820s



She was tiny.

Her entire head fit perfectly in the palm of Buffy’s hand. Unlike her older brother, their baby girl appeared unaffected by all the excitement. She yawned, stretched and settled down quickly.

He was almost afraid to touch her. Her skin, despite the current reddish hue seemed paper-thin, more delicate than the finest linen. Spike watched through teary eyes as Buffy brushed a gentle finger over the baby’s head.

The baby smacked her lips and angled her face toward Buffy’s breast. Her eyes opened and bright aqua eyes peeked out from surprisingly dark lashes. Buffy murmured something and the baby mewled, her eyes blinking languidly.

At first, Spike thought it was a trick of the light coupled with the tears he kept fighting, but it wasn’t. Buffy’s gasp of surprise told him otherwise. Because as he watched, the baby’s eyes changed colors again.

“Spike?” Her voice was soft, thready and charged with emotion.

His was low, just as laden with emotion. “I see, love.”

“Is it – do you . . . ?” Every time Buffy spoke, the infant in her arms reacted.

Finally moving, Spike brushed his hand over the top of the baby’s head. He choked on his answer. “Think so, pet. Think this is our girl.”

Sensing his attention, the tiny infant arched her body, her fingers reaching for Spike’s hand.

Watching their daughter react to each of them and the changing eye color, Buffy’s emotions finally got the better of her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, dropping onto the baby.

“She made it! Oh, Spike. Look at her!”


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



Double-checking the directions and address one last time, Doctor Ian Darrow wondered why he’d agreed to travel to California.

It had taken him more than an hour to adjust to the driving styles and by that time he was more than halfway to his destination. He was tired, and the headache from cabin pressure and time change wasn’t helping his stress levels.

He also wasn’t entirely comfortable with the dearth of information about his patient. The two gentlemen who had asked for him hadn’t been very forthcoming, only identifying the patient’s status as dire.

No name, no consulting physicians’ reports, only a series of x-ray images identifying a foreign substance – too small to be a bullet – in the patient’s brain. That object, roughly the size of a postage stamp, had to be removed without causing any damage.

Even before he’d seen the x-rays, Darrow had known he couldn’t refuse. For one thing, the two men carried credentials that made his head spin; and secondly? They’d endowed his charity with two million pounds Sterling.

Ian knew an inside job when it stared him in the face.

This wasn’t the first time British Intelligence had sought his assistance. So they hadn’t flashed actual badges – they were still British Intelligence officers.

So, he’d packed his bags, contacted his office, and boarded the charter flight waiting at a private airstrip at Toronto’s airport.


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



There was only about an inch or so of water pooled in the bottom of the tub, most of it spilling over from the small, plastic insert. Somehow, that small amount translated into Tara being just as soaked as the unusually active, squirming newborn.

“Hey, you, settle down. You’re not supposed to be squirmy-wormy.” When the baby didn’t appear to get the message, Tara kept talking to him. “Gimme that arm, buster. Gotta wash all of you clean. What will your momma say when she sees you again? How could that messy arm belong to my handsome baby? Silly boy.”

Finally capturing the wayward arm in question, Tara managed to scrub the after affects of his birth, all the while continuing the one-sided conversation.

Kait bustled in behind her, holding a huge blue towel. “How’s our boy doing?”

“He’s wonderful. Didn’t even complain when I washed behind his ears.” Tara glanced over her shoulder, motioning for Kait to help her rinse.

“Well, that’s the last time he’ll do that.” Shielding his eyes, Kait sluiced water over the dark fuzz covering the baby’s head. “Look at all that hair!”

Soft laughter greeted the older woman’s exclamation. “Lotta hair for a little guy.”

Tara placed the now soap-free infant into Kait’s capable hands. “All right, little man, how would you like to see your sister?”


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


Xander had no idea why he listened to Cordelia – or why he hadn’t put up much of an argument. The only reason (or maybe it was an excuse?) – was because Cordelia had asked him.

She rarely asked for anything these days, preferring to do all the difficult things on her own. Even to living on her own again, though it was very clear there were a lot of sleepless nights filled with tears. Xander knew a lot of strong women, but of all of them, Cordelia was far and away the toughest.

Which probably more than explained why he hadn’t argued. When Cordelia said ‘do it’, he did. Thought he still wasn’t sure why he’d done it or why she’d insisted.

It wasn’t like Cordelia and Buffy were all that close; or that Cordelia even liked the blond or her current boyfriend. Maybe Cordy feels like she owes them for the rescue? He figured that might be part of why she insisted, but one look into her dark eyes had kept him from asking more.

There was nothing Xander wanted to do less than what he was doing. Leaving Cordelia alone in Los Angeles and returning to Sunnydale. To help Spike. I’m actually prepared to do this. . . Help Spike.

Okay, so Cordy says I’m helping Buffy too, but . . . Spike. I gotta help that bleached blood sucker.

“Sheesh.” His own voice sounded strange and he reached down to raise the volume on the radio.

The Sunnydale exit loomed just ahead and Xander wondered – once again – why.

Cordelia hadn’t given him much information at all, just kept repeating, “Buffy needs your help.”

Which told him nothing about the situation.

Hoping to avoid Anya, Xander headed straight for Revello Drive.

He never even noticed the dark SUV parked at the end of the block.


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


Travers waited impatiently for the Defence Minister to call. Nicholson was pacing through the suite while the older man stared out the window. The view wasn’t much; nothing in fact like London, New York, or even Los Angeles. And yet the night here was surprisingly lively.

Earlier, Wesley had called to relay necessary information about the Initiative and then, just short minutes ago, Rupert Giles had called with more of the same. Thankfully, that information had not been redundant.

The most welcome news had been from Giles; who’d imparted the information that dissension was brewing in the ranks of the Initiative. It boded well for the success of the Minister’s negotiations with the Chief of the U.S. NSA.

It might bode well, but Travers hadn’t risen to his position by waiting for events to unfold. While they awaited word, Travers had given additional orders based on Wesley’s information.

Wetworks operatives were converging on locations with explicit orders to engage only if the Initiative moved. Thanks to the foresight of the Sunnydale contingent, they had a captive – and through him – radio surveillance on the Initiative.

His teams would be just seconds behind the Initiative operatives.

There were only two things Travers was waiting on – word from the Defence Minister – and the surgeon’s arrival.


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



Wesley and Faith hung back, watching intently while Oz crept around the side of Mrs. Khan’s house. With his supernatural abilities, it was only logical to send him ahead as a scout. The three of them were pretty sure the dark SUV was Initiative, since any other group would have already been identified. In the ten minutes they’d been watching it, no one had appeared; nor had anyone emerged.

Oz crouched by the porch, scenting the air. Behind his back, he motioned the other two forward. When he sensed them at his back, Oz whispered, “Three inside. One is Riley.”

“The other two?” Wesley breathed the question.

“Don’t know them.”

“Great.” Faith shifted, peering around Oz’ shoulder. “What do we do now?”

Wesley flipped open his cell, shielding the light behind the other two. “We wait.”

“Are you sure waiting is a good thing?” Faith shifted again, turning to look at her former Watcher. “Waiting isn’t really helping.”

“Technically they haven’t actually done anything yet.”

“Right. Just made threats against B and the kidlets.” Faith’s sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed.

The Englishman sighed deeply. “It is disturbing, I will grant you. But we daren’t tip our hands. If we move too soon, they’ll claim it wasn’t their intention to separate the. . . to kidnap the babies.” He placed a calming hand on her arm. “It is best that we wait.”

Faith was quiet for so long, Wesley wasn’t sure she’d listen to him. “Waiting doesn’t make me happy.”

“Nor me.” Wesley conceded the point, then spoke again, “I’m going to drop back and call the house.”

The only reaction was a terse nod from Faith and a barely discernable grunt from Oz.


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



Cooler heads had prevailed after the hilarity was done. Giles had regained his feet with assistance from Anya and was pacing the hallway from front door to kitchen, waiting for a sign from the second floor that all was well.

Every time he stood in the kitchen doorway, more and more of the earlier mess was gone, thanks to Anya’s compulsive nervous cleaning. Dawn and Connor were playing a distracted game of something on the television, looking up at every noise and footfall.
It came as no surprise then, that everyone jumped when the phone rang. Anya was first to it, outpacing Dawn by mere seconds.

“Summers residence, Anya. . . “

“Hey, Wes. What’s up?”

The two females spoke simultaneously, and despite his irritation, Giles relaxed visibly upon hearing them.

“He’s right here.”

“Rupert? Take the phone.”

Since he was closer to the living room, Giles motioned the teen to hand over the phone, smiling at her when she did. “Wesley?”

“We’ve located Finn. He and two others are parked in an SUV less than two blocks away.”

“What are they doing?”

“At the moment, nothing. Mrs. Khan’s been watching the truck since it parked there and no one’s gone near it.”

Giles thought hard for a moment, weighing the options. It was still within the time frame he’d given Graham Miller, though time was running out. “Very well. Stay put and don’t do anything unless they move.”

“Right.” There was nothing more Wesley could add, but before Giles could hang up, he asked, “How are things progressing?”

“I have to assume well. No one’s emerged from upstairs to give us an update, though we did hear an infant’s cry just moments ago.”

It took Wesley about half a second, but when Giles kept speaking, he couldn’t contain his laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“You. Whenever you’re off balance you get excessively wordy.” The younger man chuckled, adding, “You babble just as much as Buffy.”

Chagrined over the good-natured mocking, Giles retorted, “I’d be hard pressed to compare the two, thank you very much.” He harrumphed a bit, continuing, “I’d hardly describe it as babbling.”

Wesley didn’t bother containing his laughter when he heard Anya quip, “Yes, Rupert, you do babble. Except you use big, sexy words.”

“On that note, I’m hanging up.” Giles cast a gimlet eye at his partner, grumbling all the while about how his descriptions were not akin to babbling.

Anya took the phone from his hand, then stood up on her toes to kiss him quickly. “I find it very sexy when you get all intellectual.”

“Really?”

“Oh, God, not you two now! I’m so scarred for life.” Dawn gagged, covering her eyes. “I know way too much about everyone’s sex life.”

Now completely flustered, Giles couldn’t think of anything at all to say. Thankfully, though, footsteps on the stairs brought a very welcome distraction.


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


His instructions, along with the directions, were very clear. The agents told him to go directly to Sunnydale only bed and breakfast, call the number on the card and await their next contact.

Check-in was quick, the concierge efficiently handling all his arrangements. Within minutes of his arrival, Ian was dialing the number. It went straight to voice-mail and Ian left a simple message indicating his arrival.

Before he could get even unpacked, there was a knock on his door. Unsurprised to see the two agents who had contacted him in Toronto, this time accompanied by a third, Ian let them in, saying, “I didn’t expect you this soon.”

The third man was the one who answered. “Time is of the essence. Our operation has been compromised. We must act now.”

Glancing at the two, Ian realized the new one was definitely in charge. “What kind of facilities will I have access to?”

“Right now the facilities are limited, but you will have adequate assistance.” The younger man had a distinctive Scottish burr, though Ian had no trouble following his words. “We haven’t much time. Shall we?”

“Will I at least have an operating theatre?”

Nicholson shared a look with the other two. “The best we can provide is a clean and sterile environment.” When Ian stared at him open-mouthed, Nicholson urged him onward, “Doctor, time is very short. Please?”

Deciding he didn’t have much choice now that he actually was in Sunnydale, Ian allowed them to lead him out of the door.


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


Like before, Grace didn’t let their baby girl nurse for long. It was just – in her words – “ Just a quick nibble so mom and baby can get acquainted.”

She didn’t need to explain the other mechanics; neither of the blonds cared. Spike was too intent on the females in his arms and Buffy’s attention was totally riveted upon the infant.

Kait was busy getting the boy into a diaper and a onesie preparing to wrap him into a soft blanket, humming softly. Grace watched the new parents for a bit, waiting for the right moment to interrupt. Tara stepped into the bedroom, asking, “Do you want me to tell everyone?”

It was just the break Grace needed. “Okay, Buffy, let’s hand off your little girl so she can be washed up, just like her brother.”

When Buffy made a face, Grace play slapped her bare thigh. “Don’t you want two clean babies to meet the rest of the family?”

A low, pouting grumble was her first answer, but Buffy reluctantly held out the baby. “How soon can I have them back?”

“Just a little bit more work, then we can clean you up.” Grace handed off the baby to Tara. “Bout another half hour or so. It’ll go quickly, I promise.”

“Okay.” A slight contraction rippled through her and Buffy grimaced. “I thought this was all over!”

“It is, for the most part.”

Buffy growled, this time audible enough for everyone in the room to hear it. “What do you mean ‘most part’?”

Grace tapped her leg a second time, regaining Buffy’s full attention. “Sweetie, that’s normal. Your body now has to get rid of what’s left. The placentas.” She looked at Spike. “This is the really bloody part. You gonna be okay?”

He was already reeling from all the emotions and scents – now she was telling him more was on the way? Spike wasn’t entirely sure, but steeled himself for the inevitable. “Have to be, right?”

“It would help.” Grace stared him straight in the eye. “You’re the only one strong enough to help her but if you can’t, we’ll manage.”

“No, ‘ll be fine. Got this far.” Spike shifted his hold on Buffy, easing the pressure on his legs. “What do I have to do?”

“Not much. Just hold her.” With her hand on Buffy’s upper belly, Grace thumped her side. “Might have to massage your belly a bit.”

Suiting actions to words, Grace gently kneaded, running her hands down Buffy’s skin, forcing the afterbirth out.

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



Before Kennedy could lose interest, Willow blurted out, “So you don’t want to stick around here?”

“Please. Like I wanna be around all these failures?” Kennedy scoffed loudly. “Bad enough there‘s one other Slayer. Now I have to deal with two of them? Neither one of which was actually trained correctly?”

When Willow started to argue, Kennedy cut her off. “I don’t understand why Mr. Travers thinks I can learn anything from Buffy.”

Surprising herself Willow surged to her feet. “I may not be part of the Scoobies, but maybe it’s because Buffy’s been a Slayer since she was only thirteen and she knows how to survive?”

“Survive? According to my old Watcher, she died twice. Doesn’t sound like she’s all that good.” The dark haired girl shrugged. “Maybe she’s just lucky.”

The redhead wavered, biting her lower lip. “Is that what you think? She’s lucky?”

“She’s got no discipline. And she’s shacked up with a vampire. How disgusting is that?”

“Oh. Well. . . “ Willow’s voice trailed off, unable to counter Kennedy’s prejudice. She had to admit, she wasn’t a big fan of the Spike and Buffy show, but at least Spike was better than Angelus. Which wasn’t really saying all that much.

The two girls lapsed into silence, neither entirely certain how to proceed.


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



It isn’t all that late. Xander checked his watch again. I could probably find Dawn and Tara at home.

But every light was ablaze when he parked in front of the house; the Jeep and the DeSoto were in the driveway. Giles’s mid-life crisis mobile was just in front of the neighbor’s and Xander cursed his luck. Maybe they aren’t all here. And maybe I’m just fooling myself. Cordy wouldn’t have had a vision if everything was okay. And if something’s wrong, everyone’s either here or out fighting. . . .

I’ll just have to deal with seeing Anya.


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


The radio crackled to life. “We’ve got movement.”

“Report.”

“Unknown male, six feet tall, approximately eighteen to twenty-five, dark hair.”

“Location?”

“Approaching target location.”

“Check electronic equipment.”

“Two heat signatures at the rear, possibly the exterior. Four more on the first floor. Five. . . wait! Six signatures with one hostile on the second floor!”

“What? There should only be five.”

“There were. Last reading was at two-oh-one-seven hours, sir. Only five heat signatures were present.”

Riley thought for a minute, counting off the signatures and assigning identities to each. When the numbers didn’t add up, he realized something was wrong. His gut was telling him now was the time to move.

“All units, all units. Converge on target. Neutralize the hostile and acquire the package.” He waited a moment, then repeated his orders.

From his place in the back seat, Gebhardt smiled grimly as the SUV roared to life.





So tell me, was it worth the wait? Did it meet your expectations? Lemme know!