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Authors Chapter Notes:
Thank you for reading this and for the lovely reviews.


Chapter 1: ‘Buffy’s Gift’


Summary: Buffy is introduced in this chapter, but in an unusual way. I hope you’ll read this and understand what I’m trying for here.
Thanks, spufette.


“You know, one thing that’s always bothered me about you, sweetie,” Tara McClay chuckled as she and Spike ambled along the hospital corridor.

“Only one thing?” Spike mumbled in reply, his left scarred brow was raised in smug surprise.

“Well, the really important thing,” Tara giggled, slapping his arm gently. “Seriously,” she continued with a worried brow, “you’ve never ever struck me as a man who truly participated in life much. I guess what I’m saying is that you’ve always struck me as a guy who sees the human drama as a kind of play on a stage.” This seemed to make Tara rather sad Spike noted.

“Everyone else in the world is acting in that play, William, but not you. You are watching it, from the loge section of the audience, the only one in that audience,” she sighed deeply. “You’re the only one not truly participating in the play, Spike. Or should I call you William for now?”

“So now I’ve had this epiphany,” Spike mumbled under his breath, sarcastically. “I now wish to know the human drama, from the inside out. Only you, Miss McClay can lead me to the self-discovery I so need. Just like that bloody goof of an angel, from that sappy movie. You know the one ‘It’s A Great Life’ or whatever,” he snorted, still wishing for a smoke.

“That’s ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ you idiot,” Tara chided him good-naturedly. “Oh, here we are,” she exclaimed as she pointed to the glass window before them.

Spike realized, right off of course, that they were in front of the newborn nursery. Various little hospital cribs and bassinets spread out in the sterile room behind the glass enclosure. Cute little babies lay, sleeping, stretching or crying forlornly, just begging for lots of attention. They certainly were getting plenty of that, Spike noticed. If a nurse wasn’t making over one of the babies? Another newborn’s parent or grandparent was cooing like a bunch of bloody idiots over the tiny tots.

“I know about babies, Glinda,” Spike quipped. “I even know ‘where’ they come from,” he smirked. Cute little buggers, for sure, but Drusilla never wanted any, for some reason. I on the other hand wanted a half-dozen. For some reason, they all seem to resemble Winston Churchill but….”

“Stop it Spike,” Tara shushed the bleached blond surgeon, as she scanned the immediate area, embarrassed, suddenly. There were new fathers; grandparents and siblings everywhere. Tara did not want them to hear her good friend’s cynicism over this miracle in front of them.

“We’re not here to discuss the merits of having a child or how precious they are. This is just the first stop on our little trip tonight. A kind of ‘comparison’ trip for you, mister,” she grumbled impatiently.

“Come on,” Tara pulled at Spike who followed along, somewhat reluctantly.

“You wanted to understand the human heart, buddy,” Tara muttered in exasperation. “I’m going to give you a crash course this evening. You’d better take notes, Spike Giles,” she continued evenly. “The place, or should I say the ‘person’ I’m about to show you? You’ll need cliff notes to keep up with her.”

“It’s a her?” Spike asked eagerly. “What kind of her,” he added with a chuckle. “Hey, if I’d of known that you were setting’ me up on date of sorts, I’d of...”

“I’m doing no such thing, you moron,” Tara growled, quickly losing the last of her patience with Spike. “If you think I’m some female escort service pimp? Think again. This girl, or should I say real woman that you’re about to see? She’s so far removed from what you’ve ever know in your spoiled little brat society world, that I doubt you’ll even recognize what a ‘real woman’ she is. Too bad for you,” Tara finished with another snort and a scowl.

“Ahh, don’t be cross with me Glinda, luv,” Spike sighed in response. “I don’t mean to be a bad, rude man. You’re right though,” he frowned momentarily. “I’ve become so used to bints like Drusilla; real cold-blooded, self-centered shrews who cry foul at breaking a nail that…..”

“We’re here,” Tara interrupted Spike’s rambling. She stopped right in front of another glass enclosure and pointed at the scene in front of them.

Spike stood, frozen in front of the sad, pathetic sight before him, through the glass window. He knew of these places, of course, the baby nursery’s that people tried not to talk or think about.

This was the ‘other’ baby nursery that every hospital had but no one usually bothered to stop by and visit. Oh, doctors and nurses, of course, and a well meaning minister, rabbi or priest would drop by to pray, but…..

There were no beaming, overwhelmed with love and hovering new parents at this nursery. No proud grandpa or grandma; aunts or uncles or well meaning friends. Only row after row of tiny incubators and one or two stark white cribs occupied this hopeless place.

“This is the ‘other’ nursery, but of course, you know that right?” Tara whispered reverently to Spike.

“Yeah,” Spike choked a bit. “The babies with HIV; full on AIDs and…..”

“Yeah,” Tara mumbled sadly. “Some of the babies were born as crack addicts and had to go through withdrawals. They were so devastated by the time that they made it through that, well,” she trailed off.

“They’re not going to make it, are they? Any of them?” Spike asked in a harsh tone. “They’re doomed, every last one of them and abandoned in here like…..” his own voice trailed off weakly.

“Most of them,” Tara sighed, “most of them will not make it out of here, but some have a bit of hope.”

Suddenly, Spike noticed a small door inside of the nursery opened up. In a breath’s moment, a young woman stepped out of the door and into the room. Spike gasped when he saw the vision of loveliness that glided into the nursery, almost eagerly, he noted.

The woman had golden hair that flowed about her shoulders and glistened in the hospital lights. Spike could tell she was beautiful, even with the tiny face mask she wore over her mouth. He’d bet his last inheritance that this vision’s mouth was as lovely as the rest of her.

‘Probably full, pouty lips,’ he thought longingly, ‘pink, soft and kissable.’

If the young woman even saw Spike and Tara, she gave no notice. She went about her duties in the nursery, stepping from one tiny incubator and crib to another.

“She’s got green eyes,” Spike murmured, mesmerized by the way the woman moved, angelically about the unhappy place inside. “I can see them,” he cried eagerly. “Her eyes are emerald green and….who is she?” Spike turned to Tara as he asked about the woman’s identity.

“That, Spike,” Tara began carefully, “is Elizabeth Summers. Well, she actually goes by Buffy, but….”

“Buffy,” Spike repeated her name with a slight smile. He was pleased with the melodic sound of it from his lips.

“Is she one of the babies’ mothers?” He blurted anxiously, almost afraid of Tara’s answer.

“No,” Tara murmured softly, “not a mother. In fact, Buffy doesn’t have any children, nor has she ever been married. She’s not a nurse, or even a tech here,” the psychologist offered. “Buffy’s more of a volunteer here at Sunnydale General,” Tara continued. “Although she ‘is’ a special volunteer, that’s for sure.”

“Not married?” Spike inquired, hopefully. “That’s good,” he added with a grin.

“Look Giles, don’t get any ideas about Buffy Summers. Not just yet, at least. When I say she’s special? That’s what I mean. Buffy is a wonderful, good-hearted woman who is very well thought of. By Willow and myself and most of the staff at this hospital, and by most of Sunnydale. She’s been hurt, William, like you. So quit thinking about your dick for just a moment and try to ‘see’ what’s really going on here, okay?”

“Okay, pet,” Spike sighed with a blush. “So, what ‘is’ going on with Buffy Summers?” He gazed back at the young woman who now held a small, undersized baby in her arms and his heart skipped a beat. Spike watched as the little blond angel rocked the poor sick newborn, lovingly.

“Buffy showed up here, at the hospital about a year or so ago. Her then fiancé, Riley Finn, was a paramedic who interned here. He had Buffy meet him here one night before he went off duty,” Tara explained carefully.

“I thought you said she wasn’t taken?” Spike felt a jealous stab at his heart for some reason. “You said…..”

“I said she’d never married,” Tara snapped back at him. “She ‘was’ engaged to Riley, but like the fool he was? He let her slip away. You’ve got a lot in common with Buffy Summers, Spike,” Tara muttered, “but I’m not going to spill all of the dirt here, in this place. Just shut the hell up and listen to me, for once, huh?”

“Okay,” Spike nodded as his gaze returned to Buffy.

“Now, Willow already knew Buffy, quite well, from Sunnydale. As you know, Willow’s from Sunnydale and I met her here. Anyway,” Tara continued, “I had met Buffy before; she owns and manages the little coffee bistro down the street from here. ‘Buffy’s Beverages and Bistro’ belongs to Buffy now, since her mother passed away.”

“Her mum is gone?” Spike asked sympathetically. His own mother had died years before, leaving him and his dad alone in the world and missing her terribly.

“Yes, a couple of years ago,” Tara shook her head sadly. “That’s one of the things Buffy and you have in common,” she finished with a sigh.

“Back to the here and now,” Tara began again, pulling Spike behind a tiny wall outside of the glass window. “People on the inside can’t see us here,” she whispered with a nod at Buffy. “I don’t want to distract Buffy from her work; her gift,” she continued somberly.

“So, what ‘does’ she do here?” Spike asked, getting a bit frustrated by all this. “Why are you being so bloody cryptic Glinda?” He always reverted to her college nickname when he was being a smart ass or he was just plain nervous.

“I am not being cryptic, Giles,” Tara grunted, “just trying to explain this to you, the best way I can. Buffy is a volunteer, yes, but a very special one here. She shows up, at least three times a week, to this ward only. These babies Spike,” Tara stuttered (something she always did when she was nervous or upset) “like I said, they’re mostly doomed; for the most part abandoned. Buffy comes here and holds them; sings to them and becomes desperately attached, emotionally, to each one of them.”

“She….” Tara choked on her words and had to take a deep breath before she could continue. “Buffy, she even names some of the babies; the little ones that no one else bothered to stick around to even name properly. She, Buffy, started off with the letter ‘A’ of the alphabet. He was a boy that she named, first, his name was Adam and….”

Tara found she couldn’t finish the sentence, she was too choked up. Tiny tears formed in her eyes and spilled down her face,

Spike just stood, frozen in place as he watched the golden goddess place a tiny baby girl back in her crib and then pick up another little boy. He knew it was a boy because the blanket the child was swathed in was blue.

“How many?” Spike finally got up the courage to ask Tara. “How many babies has she named,” he asked softly as he stared at Buffy from his hiding place in the shadows of the hallway.

“I believe Buffy has gone through the alphabet nearly twice now,” Tara murmured unsteadily.

“There’s more,” Tara whispered from her place next to Spike. “Buffy’s cell phone number and home number, and yes, even her business number is on the hospital speed dial. When it’s time, for one of the babies to…..”

Spike turned and stared at Tara, his heart racing in his chest and his throat constricting on him. “Time for what,” he asked quietly, although he knew what his friend meant.

“When it’s time for the baby to pass on, to the next world,” Tara began cautiously, “we call Buffy. The hospital does, I mean,” she added quickly. “No matter what time it is, day or night,” Tara continued as she now also gazed at Buffy through the glass window.

“No matter what time it is, day or night? Buffy comes to the hospital, to this ward; she insists on it. She comes for the baby that’s never going to see the outside of this place, Spike. Buffy comes for the baby that is going to another world, a better one,” Tara rasped.

“I’m a believer, you know that, right,” she asked her best male friend. “I do believe in a higher power and I do believe that when any of these little angels pass on, that they go to a better place then this. Buffy believes that too,” Tara whispered.

“When the little baby passes on,” Tara continued softly, her firm hand gently resting on Spike’s arm. “When the baby passes on and closes his or her eyes for the last time? The last thing they’ll see in this world is Buffy Summers’ loving, smiling face gazing down at them. Buffy believes that every human who comes into this world should leave it knowing that they were loved by someone. That’s Buffy’s gift, Spike. To love these lost little angels, so unconditionally.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Spike rasped as he gazed through the glass window, his forehead pressed up against it. He had slipped from behind the tiny wall and stood right up against the glass window, in full view of Buffy.

Wiping quickly at the traitorous tears that slipped from his blue eyes, Spike swallowed hard and continued to stare at Buffy. He realized that the young beauty still had not seen Tara or him on the other side of the glass enclosure.

“And you wonder why I’ve always lived on the outskirts of human emotion, McClay? Why I’ve never done anything but hide in the shadows, outside the realm of real live humanity?” Spike rasped even as he gazed, mesmerized in at Buffy and the lost babies in her loving care.

He could tell that his own blue eyes were filled with sadness and raw pain for the young woman behind the glass. This angel on earth was so much stronger then he ever hoped to be, but still….

“It’s a sense of self-preservation; a human weakness in me, Glinda,” he stated sorrowfully. “It’s always enabled me to never allow myself to enjoy, or suffer the real life emotions that actually being truly alive can bring you? Only until recently, have I even wanted to ‘know’ what the human heart is really made of, spiritually, emotionally. Everything but the mechanical part of the muscle that I do understand, all too well,” he finished with a frown.

“Maybe it’s because I never felt strong enough, emotionally, or alive enough before this to…..” Spike’s rough, emotion-filled voice trailed off before he could finish his admission.

“You wanted to know what makes the human heart tick, spiritually, emotionally and in every way except mechanically, Spike. I could not think of a better example then Buffy Summers,” Tara murmured evenly as she gazed at the blond woman in the little face mask.

“Introduce us,” Spike ordered his friend, in a reverent tone. His forehead was still pressed up against the glass window and his gaze was still focused on Buffy, in awe.


A/N: Well that’s my Halloween chapter (not very Halloweenish I’m afraid) for tonight anyway. I hope I introduced Buffy well enough in this one. Most of the story will be from Spike’s POV, but some will be from Buffy’s too.

Thank you for reading and please review. It’s the reviews that inspire me to write more, thanks again, spufette.




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