Something to Sing About

Chapter 22

Reality check



“How about telling him you’re having a baby!” Joyce’s words rang round the room, echoing through the whole house and bouncing around inside Buffy’s head.

“Baby?” she replied carefully. “There is no baby.” And the words cut, one by one, into her soul, making little wounds that she knew would never heal.

Joyce began to pick up the pieces of the glass that had shattered into the sink. She sighed. “Buffy – I quite understand that you feel I’m an out of date, fuddy-duddy mom, but even I can tell when someone is pregnant. Especially my own daughter.”

She stopped and glanced up sharply. “Oh! Isn’t it Spike’s? Is that the problem? Oh God, Buffy, I never thought – ”

Buffy sat down abruptly and stared at her mother. “Mom, there is no baby! I’m not pregnant. I thought I was – we both thought I was carrying the Key baby, but it turned out to be Faith, not me.”

Joyce frowned and shook her head. “When I was expecting you, I lived on cold milk and pickles for two months! I have never ever seen you eat a pickle before today! And you look – Buffy, with your muscles, you’ll probably not show until the day before you give birth, but to me you look – well, pregnant! When did you have your last – “?

Buffy wasn’t listening. There was a roaring sound inside her head as she feverishly thought back. Weeks, months, passing from one reality to another – she had lost count of time and how her body was reacting. So she hadn’t had a monthly for ages – but then sometimes, if she was exhausted or fighting a battle, she could be really late without –

Suddenly she needed to get out of the house: she could feel the walls closing in on her, even the drip from the faucet was echoing inside her brain, making her head ache.

“Look, Mom, I’ve got to patrol. Can we talk about this later?”

“Buffy – running away won’t help things – ”

“Hey, not running away, look, no running, just walking swiftly to the door because there’s vamps out there just waiting to be staked. Don’t wait up for me - I’ll see you in the morning and believe me, you are not going to becoming a grandmom any time soon!”

She forced a laugh through a mouth that was as dry as dust and left the house before Joyce could find the words to stop her.

Then she was out, the night air cooling her heated skin and she was running, running, houses, trees and street lamps passing in a blur.

She had reached the furthest graveyard before she stopped to take breath, bending double over a granite slab, trying to draw some oxygen into her burning lungs. But she couldn’t out run her thoughts. Mom was wrong! This Joyce Summers in this reality didn’t know her as well as her other mom had done. She hadn’t seen Buffy for months and months – there was no way Mom could tell she was pregnant – just because Buffy had been eating some stupid pickles – and even as she thought it, the craving welled up inside her and she would have given anything for that strong biting flavour inside her mouth.

But that was rubbish. She was not expecting Spike’s baby! Even if they had still been together, still happy, she wouldn’t have believed it, but they weren’t together, he was with Faith now. And anyway, she wasn’t pregnant! And - suddenly she was aware of a vamp rising up behind the gravestone she was leaning on.

The anger boiling inside her burst to the surface and she spun, kicked him so hard in the neck that his head exploded off his body and crumbled into dust that made her cough.

Then another one appeared, smiling vacantly at her, expecting a welcome and she pounded it into the ground, the violence of her attack doing nothing to assuage the panic that was consuming her.

A third – god, what was wrong with these people tonight! How many had died and been turned in the last couple of days? What was this, a feasting time for vamps?

“This is not a good time to rise, believe me,” she muttered and this time she reached for the stake in her belt, drew back her arm, ducked as the vamp swung at her – and froze!

She could see the vamp’s terrified face changing to one of gloating delight as he lurched towards her – and a split second later, there was a blur of black leather and a cloud of dust. Spike stood there, stake in hand, staring at her, his face wary, his eyes shadowed with puzzlement.

“Leaving it a bit late to take him, Slayer, weren’t you? Or was it some sort of test?”

Buffy pushed the stake back in her belt, brushed off vampire dust and shrugged. “Just testing reflexes, speed, that sort of thing.”

Spike leant against a tombstone and gazed up at the stars. “Well, I wouldn’t try that again too soon. He nearly had you, Slayer. He was just about to have a very good day.”

Buffy turned away, not wanting to look at his face. It was too painful. All she could see in her mind was him feeding from Faith. But she knew he was right. She’d frozen. And the reason why was hammering through her body. Just then, just as she had been about to stake the vamp, she’d felt a distinct movement in her stomach!

Mom was right. She could deny it until hell froze over, but at that moment Buffy had known. She was carrying Spike’s child!

Spike glanced at his wife. He knew she hated it when he criticised her fighting skills, but he hadn’t had a lot of choice. Standing still, waiting for a vamp to attack you was hardly Slayer Textbook behaviour. Whatever the bloody test of her reactions she’d been trying out, it hadn’t looked that successful to him. He waited for her to snap back that she could take any vamp, any time of the day or night. But she didn’t. She nodded, almost as if in acceptance of what he’d said and turned away, brushing dust off her jeans, tying back her hair, every inch the business-like Slayer.

“How long have you been back?” he asked. He’d hardly believed his eyes when he’d seen her running through the graveyard. Buffy was here, in this Sunnydale, just as he’d dreamed she was. But this was the real world, not a dream. In reality she hadn’t even bothered to find him, check that he was still alive after Ben had finished with him. No, she’d just gone straight to work, patrolling, killing vamps, being the bloody Slayer.

“Not long. I’m glad to see you’re OK. You escaped from Ben, obviously.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, no problem. Bit of torture never hurt anyone – much!”

Buffy refused to look at him; she knew that once she gazed into his eyes all her self-control would vanish. She began walking towards the cemetery gates, eager to get away, desperate to be on her own so she could think.

“But you seem OK now, obviously healing well. Five by five, as our friend Faith would say!” her voice icily polite, as if they were strangers who’d just been introduced and not man and wife, a couple who’d shared everything from desperate passion to near death.

Spike wondered what she would do if he punched her on the nose? Where had Miss Stuck up Bitch from Hell come from? There was no way he would ever tell her that his ribs were still grating on each other when he walked, that the torn muscles and ligaments pulled asunder were only slowly repairing. If it hadn’t been for Faith’s generosity in letting him feed from her, he wouldn’t be standing here now. And he wondered bitterly, if Buffy would even mind if he told her that.

“Oh, I’m fine, pet,” he drawled. “Been wondering where you were, of course. I take it more time’s passed over there than here.”

Buffy snapped a branch from a bush as she passed, not even seeing the thorns that pierced her hand, or the shudder that ran through Spike’s body at the smell of her blood. Was this her chance to apologise? To tell him that she had been scared to return because once she had known for certain that he was dead then all hope would have been finally extinguished and her life would have been over. “Yes – it was difficult – there was Faith and the baby and – ”

“Hey, you don’t need to explain to me, Slayer. I know all about the Slayer’s mission, don’t forget.”

The words of apology died in her throat. He sounded so off-hand, as if he couldn’t have cared less if he’d ever seen her again or not. Well, he would feel like that now he had Faith, of course.

“Mom’s back,” she said suddenly.

Spike blinked. “Bloody hell! Joyce is alive in this world – of course – that must be…seeing her…speaking to her – are you OK, pet?”

“What?” Buffy didn’t seem to see his out-stretched hand. She was gazing round as she walked, as if all her attention was focused on waiting for another vampire to rise. “Oh, you mean – well, yes, it was weird – of course it was. But even though they were both mom, this one is – well, different.” She laughed and Spike frowned. It wasn’t a happy sound. “She’s tougher, much tougher.”

“It’ll be good to see her.”

“Oh, she’s not staying. Just a flying visit. I wouldn’t bother…”

Right! Well, he didn’t need a bloody road map to realise what she was saying. Stay away, you’re not wanted, don’t bother the Summers family any more. God, whatever had happened to her while she was back in the other Sunnydale seemed to have made a lasting impression. Suddenly he wasn’t even good enough to talk to Joyce! Something must have caused this change. Was it Angel? Had Liam come back into her life during those months she’d abandoned him to his fate here? Or was there some new guy – some human idiot who felt he could take a Slayer into his life?

He wasn’t going to beg for her attention – or her love. He’d gone down that road before, too many times. As long as he knew she was OK, as long as he could stay around to check up on her occasionally, that would have to do. It would probably kill him, but be better than nothing.

“Right – I’ll be on my way. Faith’s back in town, did you know? I promised I’d meet up with her for a drink. Care to join us? She doesn’t know you came through the portal, too. She thinks you’re still in the other Sunnydale, helping Dawn with her Key kid.”

Buffy walked slowly towards the cemetery gates, aware of the vampire inches from her shoulder. She’d never fought so hard in her life to control her emotions, to stop what she was feeling from showing on her face. Faith! She didn’t need a road map to realise what he was saying. Faith had fed him; Faith was the one he wanted to be with. He couldn’t wait to get back to her. Obviously he no longer had the slightest bit of interest in his wife or how she lived her life from now on.

Buffy felt the cold glow of miserable satisfaction. She’d been right! Faith must have come back here several times during those two months without telling anyone. She’d found Spike, helped him, nursed him, fed him – made love to him, knowing Faith! It was just a great pity she hadn’t told Buffy. Then she could have remained in the other Sunnydale and not concerned herself with this world.

Well, Spike was welcome to her. And it made telling him about the baby a non-starter. She could just picture his face – the surprise, the pleasure, the determined look of responsibility and pity that would show in his eyes. Spike would feel sorry for her! And she would rather die than experience that.

“Faith’s here?” she said, trying to banish the picture of Spike feeding on the dark haired Slayer, trying to inject surprise into her voice and proud of how normal she sounded. “She’s left Gracie with Dawn, I suppose.”

Spike shrugged. “You know Faith, pet. Even the one from this world marches to a different drummer than the rest of us. She reckons she’d never have got Gracie away from Dawn anyway!”

Buffy was forced to nod in agreement and was just about to tell him that the portal had vanished when he said,

“I suppose you’ll be going back soon. Reckon I’ll stay on here, just for a while. Make sure Faith can manage the vamps and demons on her own.”

Buffy pushed the gates open and stared down the empty road outside the railings. She had to get away from him – fast. Every second she spent in his company led her closer and closer to telling him the truth. She turned, raising her chin; her eyes steady and empty as they looked at him.

“Well, you know what us Slayers are like, Spike. We make rotten mothers. I’m sure you’re only too glad it was Faith who had the Key baby and not me!”

Spike met her blank stare with a sneer. Had she no idea of the pain he’d gone through when he realised she was not pregnant? Pain for him but also pain for her, for the loss she’d tried to hide so bravely?

“Last Slayer I knew with a kid, I killed, pet.” And with a half salute, he turned and stalked away back into the darkness.

Buffy watched him go, then swung the gates shut, the clang of the latch echoing inside her head with a finality that sent shivers through her. Then, once again, almost in protest, came that strange sensation from her stomach as the baby kicked out. Or was it beckoning to its father? She would never know.

The black leather figure vanished into the dark, the platinum hair gleamed for another second, then that, too, had gone. Buffy turned and faced the empty road. God, how she wanted to be home. Not in this world, but the other Sunnydale where no one would know about Spike and Faith. But as she walked along the empty street, her footsteps echoing on the sidewalk, she realised that without the portal, she had no way of getting back.

And – even more important – she would have to tell Joyce that she’d been right. That she was going to be a grandmom in a few months time!


tbc