"Storms of Life"

Author: Indie
Email: indiefic@hotmail.com
Notes: This wasn’t a story I had ever intended to write. Yesterday in an attempt to get back to fic - both reading and writing, neither of which I’ve done since last Tuesday – I sat down to go over some stories I had in the works. None of them were really "working" for me. So, I wrote this. It doesn’t really have a point or a storyline, but it made me feel better. Chronologically it happens about two years after the events in Busted and Never A Quiet Moment. It isn't beta'd so apologies in advance.

The loud clap of thunder reverberated for long moments, making the entire house shiver.  Buffy blinked quickly, propping herself up on one elbow as she fumbled for the small clock on the nightstand.  She stared at it for several moments before the image registered.  Three A.M.  Another bolt of lightning illuminated the hallway, etching its detail in harsh relief, yet the solid blackness of the bedroom was undisturbed.  The enveloping darkness was as safe from the light of the electrical storm as it was from the sun’s warm rays.  Yet, something was wrong, some piece of information that her sleep addled mind could not fit into place.  Something was missing.  There was a reason that storms were bad ...

She sat bolt upright in bed, her feet touched the floor less than a second later.  She stood absolutely still, listening as carefully as the echoing thunder outside would allow.  But all was silent.  That could be good ... or very, very bad.

She crept out of the bedroom, her heart pounding wildly against her chest as she made her way down the mansion’s cold stone hallway.  She willed herself to be calm, to get herself under control, but the terror that gripped her was like nothing she had ever known.  Slayers were natural protectors by design.  That fact, combined with her double dose of maternal instinct, spelled a horrid, painful death for any creature stupid enough to dare harm her child.

A chill went through her.  Aidan’s door was open.  She knew, without a doubt, that she had closed it after putting him to bed earlier.  She crept to the opening, unable to see anything in the darkness.  She could not sense any movement within.  Her entire body on edge, she waited in the doorway.  It was only moments before another large bolt of lightning illuminated the small room.  For a moment, her heart caught in her throat.

Until she realized what exactly she was looking at.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" Angel whispered, his voice distorted by the fact that he was purring.

Buffy let out a large breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding and she slumped against the door jamb.  With a lithe movement, Angel flipped on the small  nightlight next to Aidan’s bed.

Buffy stared at her family.  Her mate’s large, lean body looked decidedly odd crowded onto Aidan’s tiny, single bed.  The bed’s regular occupant, however, looked completely comfortable, soundly asleep on his father’s chest.  That, in itself, was a major feat.  The little boy hated thunderstorms, they terrified him.  The fact that he was sleeping soundly spoke volumes to how safe he must have felt.

"Is he all right?" Buffy asked quietly.

"Fine," Angel said with a smile.  "C’mere."

Buffy sauntered slowly to the bed, giving her mate a mock glare that quickly melted into a grin.  He looked awfully smug.  She knew he loved little things like this.  She knew he took infinitely more satisfaction in being able to comfort his son than he did in risking his life for the cause of good.  And as far as she was concerned, his priorities were right where they should have been.

She sat down on the bed and Angel wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close.  She leaned against him, feeling the gentle rumbling in his chest as he purred.  It was a deep, rich sound, suffused with contentment and love.  No doubt, it had a great deal to do with why the toddler was sleeping so soundly.

"That’s no fair," she whispered.  "I can’t do that."

He chuckled, pulling her to lie on the bed next to him, curled against his side.  She rested the palm of her hand against Aidan’s back.  He stirred, yawning widely in his sleep.  Buffy giggled quietly.

"What?"

"He drooled all over your chest," she whispered, giggling again.

He smiled at her wickedly.  "I didn’t realize you had a corner on that market."

Buffy gave him another mock glare.  "I do *not* drool," she said.

He merely grinned and kissed her on the end of her nose.  "Of course not," he said quietly.

She snuggled against him more tightly and turned her attention to her sleeping son.  Using her fingertips, she tried to smooth down several unruly strands of hair.  It was a battle she couldn’t hope to win.

"Poor baby," she cooed quietly.

Angel looked at his son.  "Why do you say that?"

Buffy sighed.  "Poor thing has your hair.  It sticks up everywhere."

Angel squeezed her again and she laughed softly.  Eventually they fell silent, cuddling together.  Buffy’s head was pillowed on his shoulder and he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Did he get upset?" she asked.

"Not too bad," Angel said.  "I was in the library when he started crying.  I laid down with him and he went right back to sleep."

"Amazing isn’t it," she mused sleepily.

"Yeah," he said quietly.  "All I have to do is be here."

Buffy raised her head, studying his features in the dim light.  "He takes it for granted that you’ll just make everything okay," she said.

Angel looked at her for a long moment.  "That’s a pretty big order," he said quietly.

Buffy shrugged.  "Maybe, maybe not," she said seriously.  "He doesn’t expect you to stop the storm, he just wants you to hold him while it’s raging."

Slowly, he smiled at her.  "When did you get so smart?" he asked, grinning.

"I’ve always been this smart," she said brashly.  "You just haven’t always been listening to what I’m saying."

His expression sobered by degrees.  "I know," he said honestly, "and I’m sorry."

Pressing her lips to his, she whispered against his mouth, "Just don’t do it again."

He nodded solemnly and then studied her with a critical eye.

"You should be asleep," he said.

Buffy shrugged, putting her head back on his shoulder.

"Buffy," he chided.

"I’m not going to be able to sleep," she said defiantly.  "Besides, I want to be here."

He sighed, nuzzling into her hair.  "Just don’t get too worn down, okay?"

"I won’t," she said.

Silence descended once again and some part of Buffy’s mind noted that the storm was beginning to taper off.  The still was oddly reassuring.  She didn’t tend to get much silence in her life.  Between Slaying and being a mom, she didn’t have a spare moment for reflection.  Which might have been a good thing ...

"Are you ready for this?" she asked abruptly.

Angel was quiet for several seconds.  "Ready for what?"

"The baby."

Silence again, and then, "I didn’t realize I had to be ready just this second.  We still have a few months."

Buffy sighed.  "That’s not what I mean.  I-"

He silenced her with a kiss.  "It’ll be fine," he said calmly.

She looked at him warily, but decided he was probably right.  Still, she was worried about a thousand unknown possibilities.

"What if the baby is afraid of storms too?" she ask, fully aware that she was obsessing.  "What are we going to do then?"

He chuckled and pulled her close again.  "Then," he said with authority, "we’ll put them both in bed with us and they’ll thrash around and drool and keep us both up all night, but they’ll feel safe and we’ll feel like good parents."

She looked at him and a slow grin spread across her face.  "I love you," she said.

"I love you too."

The End