Something to Sing About

Chp 15 Give me Something….



Buffy stood in the bedroom doorway, staring at the love-in happening in front of her eyes. It was amazing that one small person could create such havoc, but Faith’s baby had done just that.

She was now installed in the crib Xander had built for her, lying like a princess under a white lace canopy bought by her doting Auntie Dawn.
Dawn looked up from where was kneeling by the side of the crib, her long black hair swinging like a shining curtain. “Buffy, she has to have a name. We can’t go on calling her Baby.”

“Have you asked Faith?”

Dawn bit her lip. “She just shrugs and says she’ll leave it to me. But Buffy, she isn’t my baby. I can’t just decide on her name.”

Buffy smiled. The glow in her sister’s face was amazing to see. She hadn’t looked like this since their Mom had died. Even as Buffy watched, Dawn slid a finger into the crib and a tiny, starfish hand reached out and grabbed it. Key to Key. The link was frighteningly obvious to everyone, including Faith. Baby stopped crying when Dawn was holding her; baby took her bottle from Dawn and refused it from everyone else. Baby’s gaze followed Dawn round the room, no matter what people said about this being impossible in such a tiny baby.

“If Faith doesn’t mind, then go ahead – as long as it isn’t anything dreadful like Madonna or Britney!”

Dawn glared at her, then turned her attention back to the Key baby. Buffy tried to feel happy, and she almost succeeded – almost. Because hey, yes, she was happy for Dawn, happy for the rest of the Scoobies who seemed to think this new arrival the best thing since sliced bread.

Why was she the only one who had to cope with this tearing sense of loss? The knowledge that she’d saved the other Sunnydale from Ben, but at what cost. Spike’s life. Because he must be dead by now. There was no way Ben would have let him live once he’d realised the Key baby had finally gone. And he would have been dusted knowing that she had left him behind, left him to die alone. No matter that he had told her to go, wanted her to get Faith and the baby away from Ben, somewhere in his heart before it exploded, would have been the knowledge that she had turned her back on him. That no matter what she said and felt, he would never come first.

And she didn’t even have the consolation of his child to comfort her. No one would ever know how hard it had been to see Faith safely through her labour; to see the new born baby girl and know that Spike’s child had never been growing inside her.

Locked away somewhere in her heart she would never look, were memories of those few hours when she’d thought she was pregnant. The fear, the despair, the joy of having their baby. But it had never existed. And now Spike was gone.

The reaction from her friends had been what she’d expected. Willow had looked sorry, but there was a dark edge to her gaze that diluted the pity. Xander – well, he’d looked positively cheerful and it had been all Buffy could manage not to punch him on his nose.

Only Tara had had a kind word and real tears in her eyes at the news. “I liked him, Buffy,” she‘d stammered. “I’ve no idea why, but he made me laugh.”

As for Dawn – Buffy sighed. The arrival of the baby had detracted from Spike’s fate. Oh, she’d cried when she’d first been told, but luckily the resilience of youth and a wriggling seven pound bundle of Key had helped her through.

“Gracie! I think her name is Gracie,” Dawn said suddenly and glanced up at her sister, her face very young and uncertain. “Is that - ?“

Buffy found herself smiling. “That’s great, Dawn. Gracie she is, then.”

She left them together and went downstairs. Faith was walking round and round the kitchen, her tension obvious to see. She’d cut her long dark hair very short just after the baby had been born. Annoyingly, it made her look even prettier. “Your daughter is now called Gracie,” Buffy said. “Hope you approve.”

The other Slayer glanced at her. “Gracie – yes, five by five with me, B. Is Dawn with her?”

Buffy nodded, poured herself a cup of coffee then screwed up her face at the smell and poured it away. Ever since she’d returned, food and drink had smelt strange to her. “But Faith, she can’t look after her full time! She’s only fifteen. She’s got school, then college. I don’t want her giving up her life for Gracie – I’m sorry, but she’s my sister and – ”

“They’re both Key made,” Faith broke in impatiently. “You just trying getting Gracie away from Dawn, B. It won’t work.”

Buffy felt her irritation level rising. This Faith was just as annoying as the one who was still languishing in prison. It was the arrogance, the belief that what she said and thought was right and no one else mattered.

“She’s not going to give up her education to bring up your baby,” Buffy snapped. “The authorities wouldn’t allow it, anyway. Gracie has just appeared in this Sunnydale, remember. People know she isn’t Dawn’s. No one‘s memories have been altered this time. There’s no paperwork for her. In this world, the monks haven’t been involved.”

Faith turned and gazed out of the window. “I can’t take her back, B. I can’t risk Ben getting hold of her. You know that.”

Buffy nodded. “Yes, of course I know. She has to stay here – and – ”

“And I’ve got to return – and soon.”

“When you’re strong enough. A couple more weeks. There‘s no point in chancing a fight with Ben while you’re weak.”

Faith shook her head. “Two more days. Then I go. I shouldn’t be here. It’s making me feel weird, two of us Faiths alive in the same world. I don’t understand why you and Spike were only allowed to live in one world or the other and I’m not. Hey, Slayer here. Why don’t the same rules apply to me?”

Buffy shrugged, wearily. She felt bone tired but knew it was because of the dragging despair she felt over losing Spike. There was nothing to be tired about otherwise. The vampire and demon population of this Sunnydale seemed to be having a brief holiday at the moment. She patrolled every night but rarely needed to do more than break into a slight sweat.

No, she was tired because she’d lost someone who’d been close to her and she’d never realised how important he’d become. And in the other Sunnydale she’d have been able to grieve, cry, talk to Willow and Tara and Xander about their friend, because they’d lost him, too, and would be feeling sad.

What had she sung, that time with the demon Sweet? Give me Something to Sing About? Yeah, great. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting to sing ever again. Spike had said, she had to go on living, so that one of them was living. That was easy to do when he was there. Almost impossible now he’d gone.

The idea hit her as she shrugged on her denim jacket and set out on her evening patrol. Her feet took her, almost of their own volition, to the graveyard where the swirling orange and purple circle still spun behind a huge stone headstone. Xander had piled branches and rubbish over the top of it but as she nudged it tentatively with her foot, the pile fell apart and there was the entry to the other Sunnydale.

Temptation ached through her limbs. She wouldn’t be missed in this world. She knew when she came back it would be only a few minutes after she left. What could happen in that time? Nothing. But in the other Sunnydale, she could find out once and for all what had happened to Spike and grieve with her friends for the man they had loved. And no one would look at her with astonishment or anger about her feelings for the vampire.

Yes, just for once she was going to put herself first. This world could do without a Slayer for a short while. She‘d stay just as long as it took to tie up the loose ends that slapped endlessly, painfully in her mind. And before she could change her mind, she stepped into the whirling circle and vanished.

An hour later the moon appeared, sailing up into the indigo coloured sky. Two newly risen vamps were laughing and joking, playing tag round the cemetery. They tried to skid to a halt when they found the portal but couldn’t stop and with yells of terror, fell through.

The moon as at its highest another hour later when a slim, dark girl walked rapidly across the grass, leaping graves effortlessly. Faith had just spent an hour holding Gracie and knew with every fibre of her body, that she couldn’t do the mother thing.

No, she had to get home. Buffy would sort something out. She always did. OK, if she didn’t want Dawn to look after the baby, then she’d surely find someone else. Tara, maybe. But that was up to them. She’d made her decision and it was far easier to leave now in the middle of the night when there was no one to query her decision.

She pulled a face when she found the portal uncovered. She thought Xander had said he’d covered it up. That guy was a menace. She pulled a large flat stone across the portal to protect it from casual passersby, then squeezed herself down into the little bit remaining.

For a few seconds she had the distinctly nasty and odd sensation of being in two worlds at the same time, then -

In the corner of a dirty, dusky kitchen, the sullen slow whirling of the portal between the two Sunnydales suddenly burst into life. It spread, throwing out orange and purple sparks, whirling faster and faster, almost as if it couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow down.

A slim figure catapulted through, somersaulting through the air and landing on her feet. Faith crouched, gazing round her, safety and caution her first concern.

But nothing moved in the kitchen and she could sense there was no danger close by. She stood up, absentmindedly running her hand over her flat stomach. Would she miss the baby? What was its name? Oh yes, Gracie. She knew she ought to feel something – regret, sorrow, grief, all words that people had been muttering for the past few days behind her back.

But she felt none of them. She refused to be anything but honest with herself, because if you told yourself lies, what was the point? She’d got pregnant with a mystical baby, a few hours of pain had produced said baby that stopped glowing green, thank god, the second it arrived.

She’d stared down at the dark eyed, dark haired kid and felt – nothing. Not even relief that it had arrived. And the kid had stared back at her. It was pointless people telling her that babies couldn‘t see or even focus when they were first born. This infant had stared straight into her mother‘s eyes, blinked as if to say, ‘what the heck’ and looked away. Bonding? Not so much.

Behind her, the portal spun even faster, then gave a splutter of sparks, faded, made a last ditch effort to keep open and then gave up and popped shut. Faith didn’t even turn to glance at it – she marched to the door and headed out to discover exactly what was happening in her Sunnydale.

And she was so caught up in the pleasure being home gave her, she never noticed three more sets of footprints in the dust on the kitchen floor.

To be continued