A Symphony of Echoes
by Eurydice

 

DISCLAIMER: The characters are Joss', of course, and the chapter title comes from Shakespeare's "Sonnet CI."
PREVIOUSLY ON BUFFY: Buffy has told Joyce and Willow about the baby, and is on her way to Giles' to break the news to him...

-----

13. Truth Needs No Color

Buffy realized that the car must've been stopped for at least a minute before she actually noticed.

"It's going to be OK," Joyce said. She reached over and squeezed Buffy's hand reassuringly. "Rupert will appreciate the honesty."

She squeezed her eyes shut at the casual use of the word, Willow's questions about how much Buffy had held back when she told her mom echoing inside her head. Was he going to figure out that Spike was the father? And if he did, would he say anything about it right away? Giles had kept mum on the subject around Xander---which was another mess of trouble she didn't have the strength to deal with right now---so maybe he would adopt the same attitude with her mom. Buffy could only hope.

"We have life insurance, right?" she said, opening her eyes and offering a weak smile. "I'd hate to get killed and not having anything good from it."

"Come on," Joyce said. Unbuckling her seat belt, she picked up the bag with the pregnancy test and pressed it into Buffy's hands. "Let's get this over with. You'll feel better when it's done."

I'll feel better in Hawaii, Buffy thought wistfully as the pair of them headed for Giles' apartment. Every step cemented the sensation that she was on her way to a firing squad, with each foot covered adding a fresh turn to her stomach, until by the time she was knocking on his door, it was all she could do not to vomit on his welcome mat.

She bolted as soon the door opened, knocking Giles back and out of the way as she ran for the bathroom with her hand covering her mouth. Two minutes later, her breakfast cruller was history and beads of sweat were cooling her brow. Whoever invented this part of pregnancy sucked, she thought as she rose and rinsed her mouth out in the sink. She regarded her wan reflection in the mirror. Whatever happened to pregnant women glowing?

The soft murmur of voices forced Buffy to adopt a bright smile as she headed back for the living room. "Hey, at least I haven't lost my touch for a great entrance," she joked as she entered the room. She froze almost immediately when, instead of the two adults she'd thought to find, she was confronted with four, all of them turning to look at her in expectation.

Joyce and Giles remained near the now-closed front door. Buffy's eyes flickered over Wesley sitting on the couch; if she hadn't seen him just the night before, she probably would've been a little more surprised about his presence. It was the fourth in the room that her gaze locked on, the blood in her veins firing as she noted the shorter hair, the familiar way she was helping herself to a fresh cup of tea from the service that was on the coffee table. Lydia looked like she didn't have a care in the world, and all of a sudden, Buffy wanted to throttle her.

"Are you all right?"

The quiet concern in Giles' voice was just enough to drag Buffy's gaze away from Lydia, and she remembered the reason she was here in the first place. I can't do this in front of them, she thought frantically, and her eyes flew to meet Joyce's. There, she found the support that had been present almost since she'd told her mom, and knew that if she really wanted to, she could postpone this little talk for when things were more private. Her mom would understand.

"I'm fine," she said, and raised a finger to point to Lydia. "What the hell is she doing here?"

Clearing his throat, Giles removed his glasses as he came back into the main room. "That's rather a long story, Buffy," he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to begin polishing his lenses.

She rolled her eyes. Could he be any more obvious that he didn't want to talk about this? "After what happened in England, I think that might be a story I need to hear," she said.

"Who is this?" Joyce asked, stepping forward to Buffy's side. "You know her?"

"I met her when we were in London. She's a Watcher."

"Ex, actually." The smile Lydia gave her was surprisingly congenial. "Hello, Buffy."

The sound of her first name made her eyes narrow. Lydia had never deigned to this form of familiarity before; why would she start now? Had Spike talked about her that much that it would breed such a false sense of intimacy? For some reason, that thought gave Buffy a warm shiver of satisfaction.

She also knew why the Watcher was here. Of course she would come to her local compatriots after Spike ditched her. Lydia wasn't stupid. But if Buffy didn't ask, they'd know that she'd already seen Spike and she just wasn't ready to face the explanations that would entail just yet.

"You cut your hair," Buffy commented. "It looked better longer."

"Buffy Anne Summers!"

She shrank beneath the harshness of her mother's tone. So, OK, it was catty to the Cordelia degree, but she couldn't help it. Knowing how Lydia felt about Spike, and knowing that she was the one who'd been aiding and abetting his reasons for being away so long pissed Buffy off, even if she knew she didn't really have any right to be so possessive of him.

"It's perfectly all right." Lydia didn't seem in the slightest ruffled by the criticism regarding her appearance, so much so that Buffy had to fight not to wipe the smug smile off her face. "It would seem that she's not feeling well. It's more than understandable."

"I'm feeling just great," Buffy snapped.

"You...did throw up again," Giles said quietly. "Are you certain that's entirely true?"

The reminder about why she was there in the first place made her pause, and she shot a sideways glance to her mother. Some of the support she'd seen there earlier was gone, replaced with a mild exasperation with her daughter's rude behavior, and Buffy knew that she'd be better off just telling the news now. It wasn't like it was going to be able to be kept secret much longer anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy pulled out the pregnancy test from the bag she still clutched and held it out to Giles. "Surprise," she said. "You're going to be a grand-Watcher."

He'd taken the white stick from her with a confused frown, but her choice of words made him visibly start before his gaze jerked back up to stare at her. Behind him, Wesley rose to his feet, suddenly interested in the proceedings, and Lydia took a step forward, as if that would afford her a better look at the test.

"You're pregnant?" Giles asked, incredulous. "How is that possible?"

Buffy grinned, though it was more nerves than anything else. "Wow, I guess you guys really don't have sex."

"Buffy..." Joyce warned from behind her.

He looked back down at the test, turning it over in his hands as if the view from the other side would tell him something different. "How far along are you?" he asked tightly.

"I'm not sure." It wasn't a lie; she wasn't completely positive. "I just took the test last night and all it tells you is yea or nay."
"We're going to make an appointment with the doctor as soon as we can," Joyce said. "Buffy's going to do this right. Aren't you, honey?"

"Right," she said, though her voice didn't seem so sure.

She was still watching Giles, trying to gauge what direction his mood was going to take. He hadn't put his glasses back on after her question about Lydia, and the nakedness bared the conflicting emotions within his eyes. Disbelief, calculation, disappointment. It was the last that cut the deepest.

"Perhaps the test is wrong," he finally said. He held it out, waiting for Buffy to take it back. "Perhaps we're over-reacting for nothing."

"False positives on pregnancy tests are rare, Rupert. Besides, Buffy admitted that they weren't very careful, so it's more than likely right."

"I didn't even realize you were seeing anybody," Giles said. "How could you not take better precautions?"

With a determined step, Joyce moved herself between Buffy and her Watcher. "I don't appreciate the tone you're taking," she warned. "Especially since you were the one who was supposedly getting her out of the country for her own good. If you feel like laying a finger of blame, I suggest you start looking at yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

"About William, of course. He's the father."

It felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, and Buffy closed her eyes against what she knew was going to come next.

"What?!?" She peeked through her lashes to see an outraged Giles pushing past Joyce to confront Buffy directly. "This is Spike's child?"

"This is extraordinary," Wesley commented. "Completely unprecedented."

"What're you talking about?" Joyce asked. "What does Spike have to do with this? Buffy said the father was that William boy she met in London. The one who's been writing her."

"Yes," Giles said through gritted teeth. "William the Bloody. Also known as Spike, the Slayer of Slayers." All his focus was trained on Buffy, and she tensed as she saw the white-hot fury sparking in his gaze.

"I know what you're thinking," she started.

"I highly doubt that, young lady. How could be so completely irresponsible?"

His mood was rubbing off on her, and Buffy's hackles automatically stood up. "Excuse me, Giles, but last time I checked, it wasn't possible to get pregnant while you were dreaming," she replied. "I didn't know, OK?"

"You knew who you were sleeping with. That should've been enough reason not to allow it to progress that far."

"That was every reason. I love him. That's what people in love do."

"That's not what Slayers do!"

"Are we back to that? How many times do we have to have this fight, Giles? I might be the Slayer, but I'm still a girl, and that means I have a life---."

"Not after you have this baby, you won't," he said wryly. "Although, of course, it's not going to come to that." He turned to Joyce. "Since it's clear that she went to you first, please tell me you at least had the good sense to discuss getting rid of it with her."

"I am not having an abortion!"

Buffy's tone shattered everyone's attention on Joyce, and all eyes turned to stare at the Slayer.

Her nostrils flared as she fought to control her raging emotions. "Don't even think about arguing with me about this," she warned. "I've already made my decision, and I. Can't. Kill it. The whole point of me being the Slayer is so that I can do what it takes to preserve human life. That includes this one."

The determination in her gaze made him pause. "Having a child changes everything, Buffy." Giles had softened his tone. "I don't think you realize the severity of your situation."

"Yes, I do."

He took a deep breath. "At least tell me, you plan on giving it away when it's born."

"No. I'm keeping it."

"Why?"

"Because it's mine." She paused, her eyes darting to the others in the room. Lydia watched her in sympathy. They knew the rest of the reason; it was pointless for Buffy to try and deny it. "Because it's his."

The silence that ensued was only broken by the sound of Giles' heavy breathing. Finally, Joyce stepped forward to stand at his side, her frowning visage gazing down at Buffy.

"Is this baby really Spike's?" she asked. "And I want the truth this time."

She sighed. "Kind of. It's a long and really complicated story."

"Then I suggest you start talking."

A soft and rapid knock came at the door. With a quick glance at Buffy, Giles strode to answer it, frowning slightly when he saw Willow and Oz on the other side. "I thought our meeting wasn't until this evening," he said.

"It's not." Her eyes darted to the pregnancy test he still held in his hand. "But I think we got here just in time."

She stepped back and away to allow a smoking figure to take her place. Buffy's heart began hammering in her chest when the steaming blanket that covered it was pulled up enough to reveal Spike's face.

"'Lo, Rupert," he said.

-----

To say he'd been shocked when Red had shown up at his hotel room insisting that he come and help Buffy break the news about the baby to Giles was an understatement. But to see the look on the Watcher's face when Spike showed up on his doorstep made all the questions in his head worth it.

Until the wanker's fist shot out and cuffed him across the jaw.

"You son of a bitch!" Giles growled as Spike went sprawling into the sunlight. The blanket fell back, exposing his head, and immediately, flames sprang from his scalp. Before he could react to the blow, however, Buffy was at his side, dragging him back into the shadow of the eaves and pulling the covering back over his hair.

"Let him in, Giles," she ordered. Her arm was strong around Spike's midsection, warm and distracting from the burn beneath his hair.

Even Willow's eyes widened at the show of solidarity from the Slayer, and Spike couldn't help his smirk as his gaze locked with the Watcher's. "You heard her," he said. "Invite a vamp in for a cuppa, mate."

From the look on his face, it was the last thing Giles wanted to do. His lips thinned, his nostrils flared, and his hand was still clenched into a fist at his side. "I don't---."

"Do it, Rupert." Joyce appeared at his shoulder, but her eyes were fixed on Spike. It wasn't the sympathetic woman he remembered, nor the one Red had described when she'd said Buffy claimed her mother was on her side. This was the vengeful grandmother of his unborn child, the one who was none too thrilled with the baby's father at the moment.

Bugger.

"I have a few things I'd like to say to Spike," she was saying. "And I'd prefer if he wasn't dust when I do it."

With both Summers' women against him, Giles didn't stand a chance. Sighing in weary reluctance, he took a step away from the door and muttered, "Come in, Spike."

In a flash, Buffy was pulling him across the threshold, followed quickly by Willow and Oz. As soon as he was free from the blanket, however, she broke away, skirting around to a vacant corner of the room as if she wanted to be completely on her own.

"Good thing Red brought me my invite," Spike drawled, hopping onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. "Looks like this is quite the fete." He saw the blonde Watcher hovering in the background and cocked an eyebrow. "Didn't take you long to turn stoolie," he commented.

"You know her, too?" Joyce asked.

"Sure. Don't know that one, though." He leveled a finger at the tall dark man by the couch.

"Wesley Wyndam-Pryce," he said. "I'm---."

"Not important," Spike cut off. Too many bloody Watchers in the room. "Right. So, since Lydia's here and you're waving that---," he pointed to the pregnancy test that Giles still held, "---like it's the soddin' sword of Damocles, I'm goin' to guess secrets aren't our top priority any more." He ticked them off as he listed them. "Buffy's pregnant, the baby's mine, I was gone but now I'm back. Any questions?"

There was a moment of silence before Joyce said, "Nobody's told me yet how it's possible for a vampire to have children."

"Easy," Spike said. "I wasn't a vamp when me and Buffy hooked up." He saw the Slayer wince at his phraseology. Fuck. He needed to start thinking about his words if he didn't want to make this worse.

Joyce didn't miss the phrase either. Folding her arms across her chest, she said, "Hooked up? Is that what vampires call it these days?"

"It's not like that," he hastened to say. "I love Buffy and she---."

"Is pregnant, by you it would appear, and nobody has bothered to explain yet how the hell that could've happened," Joyce finished, exasperated. She turned to Giles. "Now, before any of this farce goes any further, someone is going to tell me how Spike can go from being a vampire, to not being a vampire, then back again, and somehow in the middle of it all, get my little girl pregnant."

"Mom! I'm not a little girl!"

It was the first thing Buffy had said since Spike's invitation inside, and he swiveled his head to try and catch her eyes. I'm doin' this for us, luv, he wanted to say, but it was impossible to convey the thought with her avoiding his gaze.

"You'd best sit down, Joyce," Spike said, and patted the stool next to him. "This one's a doozy."

-----

The room was somber when all was said and done. Giles had started out telling the story, with the occasional interjection from Willow, but as soon as he reached the point of the dreams, Buffy had spoken up, her voice low, her eyes downcast, and the group had grown silent as they listened to her finish the tale.

Spike relived it as she spoke. Every second. Every word. Every kiss. It was the first time he'd heard her perspective on what had happened---about all of it---and hearing her voice betray the tenderness that had distinguished the time they'd shared whetted his love for this girl more than seeing any words she might scribble out for him. He hadn't thought that could be possible.

He ached to get up and take her in his arms, to let her know she wasn't alone in this, but the chill from the others made him hesitate. Lydia knew the truth, and he suspected Rupert probably knew at least part of what had been happening over the past eight weeks, but until he got Joyce back on his side, Spike knew he had to be careful how he conducted himself in front of her. Buffy had chosen to tell Joyce first---for a reason---and Red had made it more than clear that the elder Summers woman was prepared to stand by her daughter, come hell or high water. Apparently, however, having a vampire as the father of a future grandchild superceded both hell and any level of water, high or not.

"...then when I saw him that last night---."

"Wait." Giles interrupted for the first time since Buffy had started speaking. "You saw Spike again before we left London? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because..." And she looked at Spike, chewing her lip. He could see the entreaty she was probably not even aware of, and though a part of him was hurt that she hadn't been upfront with everyone about their truce, a bigger part knew exactly why she'd done it.

"Because what was said is between me and the Slayer," he said, hopping off the stool. Though her eyes widened as he did so, Spike strode purposely to Buffy's side and turned to square off with the others. "None of you lot were there," he went on. "None of you lot can understand what it was that happened between us."

"Spike---."

"No, luv. You had your turn. Now's the time for a different view."

And he talked, and as he talked, his accent softened, his words returning to a rhythm from days gone past. He hadn't planned on revealing so much about his own history, about those days as a human when he'd felt so useless and fearful, but he knew from watching their faces that as moving as Buffy's story was, they weren't seeing it as anything more than the ramblings of a young woman at the mercy of her hormones. They needed the other side; without it, the tale was only half-told.

Giles dropped his eyes midway through the story, and Spike knew he was remembering his tenure with Anne and his first and only encounter with a human William. Lydia sat with her usual sycophantic adoration, while the other Watcher seemed fascinated with the various magical details. But it was Joyce who received the bulk of Spike's focus. Joyce was the one who had to believe that he loved Buffy, that he wasn't going to hurt her. Most importantly, she had to believe that she could trust him.

"So, you can lecture me all you want. I can take it. But it's not goin' to change the fact that I made Buffy a promise. I'm not goin' anywhere. I wasn't goin' to before I found out she was pregnant, and I sure as hell am not goin' to now. Know you don't like it, but guess what? Doesn't matter. That baby's mine just as much as it is hers, and Buffy knows that. She knows I love her, and she trusts me. That should be enough for you. It's more than enough for me."

He didn't mention her love for him. To announce it would sound arrogant and likely backfire if Buffy decided to get scared about it all.

"Quite an eloquent speech," Giles said quietly. He lifted his eyes, but there was still a modicum of reserve within their depths. "But you've overlooked one irrefutable fact, Spike. While William was most certainly a remarkable young man, he's dead. You're not him. You're a vampire."

He didn't want to do it, but...

"Angel was a vampire," Spike said. "And you didn't have a problem with him bein' around."

"Angel had a soul."

"Not to mention the fact that Angel left town," said Joyce. She wasn't as angry or cold as she had been when he'd first arrived, but the walls were still there.

"Oh, and we all know just how great that made Buffy feel, now don't we?"

"He did it because he realized he couldn't give her the future she deserved," she countered.

"Then there you go." Pulling Buffy to her feet and stepping behind her, Spike settled his hand over her stomach and leveled a proud stare at the group. "I already have."

The last thing he expected was for Buffy to disentangle herself from his arms.

But she did.

And she did so without even turning back to look at him.

"So now you know," she said, addressing everyone but Spike. "And nothing is any different now than it was when I first walked through that door this morning. I don't expect you to just automatically be OK with this. Believe me, I know how wacky the whole thing sounds. So, all I ask is that you just...think about it all. Think about what you would do if you were in my shoes." She glanced at Giles and tried to smile. "Just don't actually get into my shoes because those kind of images in my head, I don't need."

"Buffy---."

"No." She cut her Watcher off, and turned for the doorway. "I'm done talking about this. I'm going to go to class while I can still fit in the lecture hall seats."

"I'll come with you," Willow said.

Hesitating before Oz, Buffy cast one more glance at Spike before she said to her friend, "Can you get him back to the hotel for me, please? Preferably not in an ashtray."

"Will do."

She looked at Spike one last time before disappearing out the door, Willow right on her heels. He wasn't entirely sure what it was she was feeling at the moment, though the fact that she'd ensured him a safe ride had to count for something, he figured. Not once during the long conversation had she ever said a disparaging word about him, or William, or about their time together, but neither had she come right out and backed him up when he made his assertions.

He wondered if she was still going to show up that night, or if the three-ring circus had tainted what they'd already shared.

God, he hoped she'd come.
 

To be continued in Chapter 14: In the Main of Light...

 

A Symphony of Echoes
by Eurydice

 

 

DISCLAIMER: The characters are Joss', of course, and the chapter title comes from Shakespeare's "Sonnet LX."
PREVIOUSLY ON BUFFY: Willow showed up at Giles' with Spike and, together, they confronted the trio of Watchers and Joyce about the pregnancy...

--

 

14. In the Main of Light

 

Willow expected to be confronted as soon as they left Giles', but as they walked down the sidewalk toward campus, Buffy remained as silent and withdrawn as she'd been during those weeks before they'd left for London. As the minutes stretched the anticipation to greater fidgets than anything she imagined Buffy could actually say, though, Willow decided to take the Slayer by the horns and bring it up herself.

"I know you didn't want Spike there," she said, "but I think it turned out pretty well, considering. And that accent! Is that how William sounded? He makes Giles sound like those guys we heard on-."

"You shouldn't have interfered."

Buffy didn't raise her voice, and she didn't look at her friend when she spoke, but even without such demonstrations, Willow heard the reprobation in her words. She flushed in spite of the day's rising heat. "I'm sorry," she hurried to say. "And, I know you don't want to hear this, and I can't believe I'm going to say it, but Spike...he wants only the best for you, Buffy. He was the best ally you could've had in there. You've got to admit, he was pretty convincing. I mean, I completely get what it was you saw in him now. It sounded like you two really did a lot for each other."

"I told you that when we were in London. Since when are you such a Spike supporter?"

Willow bit her lip. She didn't dare tell Buffy about the small spell she'd done on the letters. Not only would it demonstrate a lack of trust, but Buffy was already worried about her use of the stolen magic. If she found out that Willow was using it like she was, she'd tell Giles, and that was one detail the witch wanted to keep private.

"Since he became the father of your baby," she replied instead. "You weren't watching him. You didn't see his face. He's head over heels for this baby and it's not even born yet."

She thought she'd overstepped the boundaries of their friendship until Buffy whispered, "I know."

"Then why didn't you want him there?" Willow asked gently.

"Because nobody knows him like I do. You heard Giles. They still think there's such a difference between the human and the vampire, but...I don't know. Angel without his soul was a completely new person, but Spike...there's so much William in him, and I have absolutely no idea how that can be. He looks at me, and I see William. He talks to me, and I hear him. And when he touches me..."

Her voice trailed off, lost in some memories known only to her. When Willow stole a glance sideways, she saw the wistful longing softening Buffy's face, the sad upturn of her mouth. She may not have said the words out loud, and she might have fled his presence after getting the truth told, but there was no doubt in Willow's mind that Buffy loved Spike, too. She just needed to admit it to herself.

"Do you think Spike would be different if he had a soul?"

The Slayer's question came out of the blue, and Willow stopped in her tracks as she gaped at her friend. Buffy continued walking for a few paces before realizing she was alone, and stopped to look back.

"What? I was just wondering."

"Wondering, as in intellectual speculation, or wondering, as in 'Willow, can you give Spike back his soul?'"

"Just...wondering."

She wasn't, and it was written all over her face.

"You can't get William back, Buffy." Willow kept her tone as gentle as possible, and began walking again in order to get back to her friend's side. "Putting a soul in him isn't going to make Spike forget about the last century of being a vampire."

"It would make Giles and Mom accept him easier, though."

She couldn't argue with that. She had a sneaky suspicion Buffy was right.

"But would it be worth it to potentially lose him?" Willow asked. "It's possible Spike with a soul wouldn't be anything at all like how you know him. Do you really want to risk that?"

Tentatively, Buffy shook her head, and the girls resumed their walking. They were on the edge of campus before either of them spoke again.

"Do you think there's any way Spike can be a good thing for this baby?" Buffy asked.

Remembering the fiery torrent of emotion that flooded through her when she'd scanned Spike's letters, Willow smiled. "Yeah," she said softly. "I think he could be a good thing for both of you."

-

The moment Buffy left, Giles rose to his feet.

"Spike, a word with you in the kitchen, please?"

The words were polite, but the tone was cold, and the danger flashing in the Watcher's eyes was enough to make Spike tense.

"Not really all that private in there," he said. He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops in cocky defiance. "So, if you have something to say to me, you might as well have at it out here."

For a moment, Giles' eyes flickered among the room's other occupants. Oz still stood near the door, observing the group in silence, while Wesley and Lydia hung back behind the Watcher, curious as to which decision he would make. It was Joyce who received the longest consideration, and as she lifted her chin to stare him down, Giles sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly.

"I want to know why you're here," he said.

Spike couldn't help his grin. "Checkin' out my intentions, eh? Guess I couldn't expect any less."

"You could've stayed away."

"No, I couldn't. I promised Buffy that I'd come, so come I did."

"But that was nearly eight weeks ago," said Joyce. "How can you expect me to believe that you're so concerned about Buffy's wellbeing when you didn't even bother to come with her?"
Spike glanced at Lydia, and could tell from the slight rush in her heart rate that she was anxious about his response. Giles, too, seemed already to be aware of what the answer to the question would be, his hands disappearing into his pockets and fiddling with the coins they found there.

"Because what kept me away was for Buffy's sake," Spike replied. Sod the rest of them, he decided. Of everyone in the room, the one he needed to be concerned with the most was Joyce, and to a lesser extent, Rupert. These were the two who the Slayer looked to for guidance, for support. These were the two he most needed to get onto his side. Without them, any future he and Buffy might have would be difficult, if not impossible, to endure.

Carefully, Spike closed the distance between him and Joyce, watching as she stiffened upon his approach. Easing back onto the stool next to her, he turned to face her directly, blocking out everybody else in the room.

"Buffy is an amazing woman," he said. "And she's an even more amazing Slayer. Some of the credit for that goes to Rupert, but some of that also goes to you. Mums are the most incredible creatures, you know? Mine did so much to try and make up for some of the hardships I had back in the day, just like I know you do for Buffy."

"I don't see-."

"Let me finish." The eyes of others in the room were heavy upon him, but he deliberately ignored them. "The thing of it is, though, it's not enough. To you, she's still your little girl, but to a good number out there, she's the Big Bad Kickass Slayer. Which means there's always going to be someone gunning for her, and there'll always be some nasty lurking around the corner, just waiting for his chance to get a taste of her. We might not like it, but the truth of the matter is, Buffy beats the odds against her every single night she makes it back to crawl between her cozy little sheets. So, I just decided to make sure that that happens for as long as possible, is all. I was off tryin' to find something I thought would help her out with her slaying, and when it didn't pan out, I came straight here. To help her fight. To stand by her and behind her for as long as I can. For as long as she lets me."

"Because you love her."

There was no question in her voice, no blame. Her eyes as they regarded his were solemn, but the coldness that had been present upon his arrival seemed to have waned.

The corner of his mouth lifted. "Yeah," Spike agreed softly. "Because I love her."

Giles cleared his throat. "As...passionate as you appear, Spike," he said, "why should we believe you? How do we know you're not here with ulterior motives?"

"Ask him." Spike pointed to Oz. "Go on, tell him how I saved you and Red last night. And the Slayer wasn't anywhere around, was she?"

"He's right," Oz said. "He saved our lives."

Giles' attention immediately shifted, and he frowned in concern. "What happened? Was it vampires?"

"More vigilantes. Willow and I were on a stakeout for Buffy and they showed up."

"But why would they attack you? I thought they were only interested in vampires."

"Looks like they decided they wanted a werewolf to toss in the mix," Spike said.

Speaking drew Giles' focus back to Spike, and the Watcher's eyes narrowed. "Buffy said the vigilantes were human," he said carefully. "If you saved Willow and-."

"It was self-defense." Oz remained unflappable when attention was drawn to him. "Spike knocked out the last one, but when he turned his back, the guy pulled a knife. Spike didn't have a choice."

He hadn't expected the show of support from the werewolf, even though Buffy had told him about what had been said at the graveyard after Spike had scarpered off, so he nodded to Oz in gratitude. An unexpected ally. It made for a nice change.

"Still," Giles was saying, "it doesn't change the fact that you're still a vampire, Spike. Your instinct is to kill. Do you expect me to believe that you can just ignore that because of your love for Buffy?"

At least he wasn't questioning the validity of his emotions, Spike thought. Rupert wasn't calling it his presumed love; he was phrasing his doubts in such a way that there was no mistaking he believed the feelings to be real.

"Been baggin' it ever since London," he said proudly, and jabbed a finger in Lydia's direction. "She's my proof of that."

"Yes," she confirmed. "And as far as I'm aware, William hasn't killed beyond the realm of his duty, either."

He winced at her casual use of the word "duty," and noticed Giles doing the same. It made him sound like a ponce, when, really, it was just about making sure that Buffy stayed safe and able to rely on him. She couldn't very well do that if he was arbitrarily slaughtering half the humans he came across.

"And now that I've said my piece," Spike said, rising to his feet again, "I got a bone to pick with you." He moved until he faced off with Giles. "What's with riding Buffy so hard about this baby? Me, I can understand, but you're s'posed to be her bloody Watcher-."

"Exactly. Buffy's the Slayer. Which means everything she does gets examined in excruciating detail by the Council, especially now that I'm back in their employ and she's presumably back under their control. Trust me. They look none too fondly on Slayers who choose to have children. They believe it diverts the Slayer's focus from their mission, which is why they do everything in their power to discourage any such thing happening in the first place. How do you think Quentin Travers is going to react when he learns about her state? I'm trying to protect her."

"You tried talking her into an abortion," Joyce said quietly.

His reaction was instinctual.

Plaster rained around their heads when Spike slammed Giles into the wall, his forearm crushing into the older man's throat as he pinned him in place.

"That's mine you're tryin' to get rid of there," Spike growled. He ignored the Watcher's clawing at his arm. "But that doesn't even matter. The one who gets to make that decision is Buffy, not you and not those wankers back in merry ol', understand?"

There was a rustle of activity behind him, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lydia stop Wesley from approaching. It didn't, however, stop Oz from coming up and curling a hand around the elbow of the arm that held Giles against the wall.

"Spike, man, maybe we should go."

The realization that he was being pulled off a potentially volatile situation took a moment to sink into Spike's skull. His eyes flashing, he released his hold, taking a step back and glaring as Giles spluttered and sagged. He shook off Oz's grip and stalked back to where he'd dropped his blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders without even a glance at the others in the room.

"And you wonder why we worry about Buffy's involvement with another vampire," Giles said softly.

Stopping in the doorway, Spike turned and locked gazes with the Watcher's. "That wasn't a demon's reaction you got there," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "That was a father's. If it had been the demon's, you'd be dead."

He whirled and made a dash for the van, smirking beneath his blanket for getting the last word in. Maybe they'd realize he was serious now; he wasn't about to let anybody hurt Buffy any more, and he especially wasn't going to let anyone hurt the baby. If this didn't prove it to them, he didn't know what would.

Oz didn't say a word until they had pulled away from the curb.

"Not that I'm criticizing your methods here," he said, and his eyes never strayed from the road ahead, "but maybe manhandling Giles isn't the best way to get him on your side."

"Wanker was threatening the baby. He got what was comin' to him."

Silence.

"You think Buffy's going to see it that way?"

The simple wording of Oz's question forced Spike to shake off the rush of adrenaline he'd felt at the small victory over Giles. As he began to imagine how the scene would've played out if Buffy had been present, his glee faded, to be replaced with a growing sense of dread as to how she would take the news when her Watcher called to gloat about how he'd been right about Spike.

"There's a covered walkway that connects Buffy's dorm with the hall next to it," Oz observed. "There's usually a lot of parking spots right near by."

The casual offer was all the confirmation he needed. "Thanks, mate," Spike said. Leaning against the interior wall of the van, he closed his eyes as he lost himself in the rhythm of the vehicle against the road. This was going to be a lot harder than just showing up and thinking Buffy was going to let him fall into her life and bed. He needed to start thinking a little quicker, be a little more careful in what he said and did around her friends and family.

But he could still save this.

-

Her silence was beginning to weigh on Giles, and he watched her out of the corner of his eye as he finished examining the non-existent bruises on his neck in the mirror. "You're upset," he said quietly, and stilled until Joyce looked up to meet his eyes in his reflection.

"I'm...baffled," she countered. Slowly, she shook her head. "I just don't understand how you could've kept this from me for the past two months. Buffy closing off, I get. She knew how I felt about Angel, so it's natural that she'd be scared about telling me about Spike. But, you, Rupert? I thought we'd finally come to an agreement about what our roles were, about how we functioned in Buffy's life. How could you not tell me what happened to her in England?"

Deliberately, he stepped around the wall and into the kitchen, grabbing the kettle to fill it in the sink. "It wasn't my tale to tell," he said.

He kept his eyes averted. If he met her gaze, Giles was fairly certain she would see the truth in them for herself.

"That's bullshit." He heard her stand and come into the kitchen. "I know for a fact that both Wesley and that Lydia know everything that happened, and I'm fairly certain Buffy didn't include them in her little show-and-tell circle, which means you're the reason they know. How could you tell them and not me? I'm her mother. I have the right to know."

"To begin with, I told Lydia nothing. She was involved in the events in London herself so she had it all firsthand. As for Wesley..." Stepping to the cupboard, he took out a clean cup. "He's going to be working with Willow, and indirectly, with Buffy. I thought it best he be aware."

"But not me."

"Why does it sound like you're angrier with me than you are with Spike?"

"Because Spike was honest with me. I may not be happy about the fact that Buffy's pregnant, or that it looks like she's in love with him, or even that the father of my unborn grandchild is a vampire, but at least neither of them chose to keep me in the dark once they learned the truth."

Taking a deep breath, Giles maintained his silence while he waited for the water to boil, pouring it into the teapot when it did and trying to ignore the guilt Joyce's words was inducing. "Perhaps I made the wrong decision," he said carefully. "And for that, I apologize. But I meant what I said to Spike. When the Council discovers that Buffy's pregnant, things could get very difficult for her. And if they learn the truth of the paternity..."

"What will they do?"

He filled the cup and handed it to Joyce, finally lifting his gaze to hers. "I don't know," he admitted. "It's been over twenty years since they've had a Slayer with a child, and Buffy's circumstances are...unique, to say the least. I fear there are too many variables to make any credible speculation as to their potential actions. But knowing Travers as I do...I have to assume the worst. My only concern is Buffy's wellbeing, Joyce. You have to believe that."

Her nod was slow. "All right," she replied. "I suppose I can understand some of it. But I think you're wrong about one thing."

"What's that?"

"Buffy's not giving up on this pregnancy, and from what I can see, Spike's more than ready to fight for it just as hard as she is. That means it's not just her you have to be concerned for. It's the baby, too."

As she carried her tea back into the living room, she left Giles to stand alone with the warm teapot. Her conclusion was exactly the one he'd been fighting inside his own head ever since hearing Buffy's announcement about her new condition. In his heart, he'd known that aborting would never be an option for his Slayer, and while he may not be pleased with who the baby's father was, he couldn't deny that it had been conceived in love, or that the father-in his original form-was a good and decent man.

It was the current incarnation that frightened Giles.

It was the current incarnation with which he was going to have to contend.

It was the current incarnation whose unpredictability made the next nine months a nightmare to consider.

Prior to his arrival in Sunnydale, Giles had always believed he understood the nature of vampires. Then, Angel had become a part of their lives and he'd been forced to reconsider some of his assumptions, bending them to fit with the soul that changed so much. Some of it had reverted back when Angelus had stripped and slaughtered his swathe through their lives, and Giles had to admit that his animosity toward vampires as a group had swelled to astronomic proportions after Jenny's death. Not even Angel's tortured return and subsequent adieu was enough to temper it to any great degree.

Yet, now there was Spike, and all his notions were being choked into re-evaluation again. He didn't mean the Spike who had terrorized them at Angelus' side, nor the Spike who had returned for the brief sojourn the previous year.

No, the Spike who gave Giles such a headache was the one who revealed himself in love letters written to a Slayer. The one who traveled across continents in search of a woman he believed held the key to helping the Slayer he adored. The one who renounced his instincts-or seemingly attempted to-in order to not only better the odds that the Slayer would survive just one day longer, but that she would do so and look upon him favorably as well.

This was a Spike he didn't understand.

Which meant this was a Spike he had to tread lightly with.

He had liked William. He had liked the young man from Anne's first descriptions, and it had been furthered by his only meeting with him. He'd been impressed by the decorum and respect that pervaded young William's being, and, under any other circumstances, he would've welcomed Buffy's involvement with such a man.

But William was not Spike.

He couldn't be.

And it was that last, nebulous straw to which Giles was grasping. Because to let it go was untenable.

-

She didn't know why she couldn't let it go. Maybe it was because of the unexpectedly harsh response she'd gotten from Giles about the pregnancy. She'd known he would be disappointed, but his nearly violent reaction to Spike being the father had shocked her, almost into silence, and then to hear his arguments after Spike had told his side of the story... Buffy wasn't sure why he was being so stubborn about it all, especially since he'd been seemingly on her side ever since their return from London.

But it was that one statement of his that hooked the questions firmly inside Buffy's mind, the reason she'd starting thinking about them in the first place.

"Angel had a soul."

Deep down, she didn't want Spike any different than he already was. Well, maybe except for not being a vampire but hello, there was no getting away from that particular fact. But neither Joyce nor Giles had had the opportunity to get to know him the way she had, and accepting him at face value when not even a year ago he'd been kidnapping her friends and threatening them with broken bottles was too much for them to stomach. Buffy knew that. It was the only reason she was pondering the question of a souled Spike at all.

Willow was probably right. There was no way to guarantee that Spike would be remotely similar with a soul; she could lose him for good if he did it. And how would he react if she even asked? Would he be hurt about not being good enough the way he was? That had been William's biggest fear and failing. So many people had denigrated his existence when there was so much good he had to give to them; surely, asking Spike to get a soul just so that her friends and family would accept him more easily was pretty much saying the same thing.

And yet, the niggle remained. She wanted everyone to get along. For her sake, but most importantly, for the baby's sake. And Willow had all this extra power now. Maybe she could figure out a way to do the souling spell so that it didn't have the no-happiness clause built in like Angel's.

She was jostled from her thoughts by a surreptitious poke in the side by said witch. Jerking, Buffy looked up in time to see Dr. Walsh turn back toward the lecture hall as the kids around her started packing up their books. Damn it. She'd zoned out through most of psych class again. She was going to have to stop doing that.

"Before you go," Dr. Walsh said, and a hush fell across the room, "I have a small announcement to make." She leaned against the front edge of her desk as her gaze swept over the students. "Some of you may have been awake enough during class to notice that Riley Finn, my teaching assistant, wasn't here today. Unfortunately, he won't be returning. Last night, Riley was assaulted on his way home from the library. He died before he was found. There will be a small memorial service at his fraternity on Wednesday for those of you who had the chance to get to know him. As for his position, I'm replacing him with a former student of mine from back East. He starts on Wednesday and I expect all of you to treat him with the utmost respect. Dismissed."

Buffy and Willow exchanged looks as they rose from their seats, but they held their tongues until they were beyond the walls of the lecture hall. "The library?" Willow asked. "Do they really expect us to believe that?"

"Professor Walsh does," Buffy replied. "I'm just wondering who Riley was working for that would come up with such a story."

"Somebody who doesn't want what he was really doing to get out, obviously."

Each lost in her thoughts, the girls lapsed into silence until they reached the step of their dorm. "What're your plans for the rest of the day?" Willow asked.

Buffy glanced at her friend, noting the nervous smile. "I think I'm just going to take it easy," she said. She didn't need to elaborate. They both knew it had been a crazy twenty-four hours. "You're meeting with Giles and Wesley tonight, aren't you?"

Willow nodded. "The witch from the coven should be in town now. It'll probably be another big intro-palooza. Which is good, but what I really want is to get to work on the whole controlling the magic thing. After what happened with that vamp attack the other night-."

"What did happen?"

"Got me. Except I think that somehow I set him on fire. I just don't know how. That's what I'm hoping I'm going to be able to figure out."

They stepped from the stairwell into the hall that led to their room, and Buffy froze as she saw the black-clad figure leaning against the wall next to her door. He was doing everything he could to appear casual, but the way he kept flicking his Zippo open and shut betrayed his nerves.

Willow's eyes widened at the sight. "Oh," she breathed, and stepped away from Buffy as if the Slayer needed more physical room to process the arrival. "I'm... just... going to go to the library," she said. She backed off. "OK?"

Buffy didn't answer. She was too busy watching as Spike's head turned to meet her gaze.

-

The dingy apartment was dead quiet as Baltozar fell through the front door. Fucking thing stuck every time it closed, and he invariably had to kick it in order to get inside. He would've preferring having a real nice place to stay while he and Havi were in Sunnydale, but as they neither knew how long they'd be around nor had a shitload of cash to be throwing about, this was the best they could do.

The ratty curtains were still drawn against the midday sun, and when he crossed to pull them, Baltozar saw a cockroach skitter beneath the sagging cushions of the couch when the deadly sunlight struck the stained carpet. Almost as bad as vampires, he thought, though the sight hardly disgusted him. In his line of work, it was a common one and far down on the list of creepy crawlies that got under his skin. Sometimes, even, just the sight of one almost made him feel like he was at home.

His muscles gleamed with sweat as he strode into the galley kitchen, opening the refrigerator and grabbing the carton of milk from inside. Swigging down the remainder of its contents, he tossed the empty carton on top of the pizza box next to the sink, and noted the faint line of red trailing down the interior of the white fixture. Leaning in, he dabbed at it with a fingertip, bringing it to his nose to sniff before cautiously giving it a quick lick.

Blood.

Havi's.

He hadn't noticed it there before he'd gone out for his workout. Then again, he hadn't come into the kitchen, either.

Slowly, Baltozar crept down the hall to the single bedroom, nudging the door open with a toe in order to better peek inside. Havi was still asleep on the bed, nude, lying on her stomach atop the blankets with her head at the foot of the mattress. They'd flipped for how the sleeping arrangements were going to be, and sleeping backwards on the bed had won over turning it completely around. Because of the piercings in her neck, Havi slept on her stomach, but she couldn't sleep without being able to see the door when she woke up. It was a survival mechanism for her, ingrained over the years, but if Baltozar didn't love the girl so much, he would've thought the bitch was a real nutcase for needing the odd order.

Silently, he slipped through the crack and stepped to her side. She'd been covered up with the sheet when he left, so he hadn't seen the various scrapes and scratches that adorned her flesh. What the hell has she been doing? Baltozar wondered. Esme's questions came haunting back, and his breathing quickened as he began to play out the possibilities.

Maybe the old witch was right. Maybe the Hellmouth held some significance for the Guardians after all. Havi had been driven ever since they'd arrived, and clammed up whenever he pressed. Whatever excursion she'd gone on the previous night had to be a part of that.

Slowly, he peeled off the clothes he'd worn for his run, standing over her with his cock semi-hard and his nerves dancing for release. Reaching down, he slid his hand down her muscled back, past the tattoo on the left cheek of her ass, and cupped the firm flesh with a growing desire for more. Havi grunted in her sleep, her head turning to face him, and she blinked up at him as his other hand began to stroke the side of her exposed breast.

"Stop it," she mumbled.

"Make me," he taunted.

His fingers slipped beneath her torso to pinch her nipple, and Havi gasped as the sharp pain pulled her the rest of the way from her slumber. "You're all sweaty," she complained, and tried to roll away, but his powerful hands sank into her body and tugged her back.

"I'll clean up later."

He ducked when her elbow came flying back, and used the vulnerable arch of her body to yank her against his burgeoning erection. Immediately, Havi's struggles increased, but he could feel the slickness between her legs when he buried his hand between her thighs, and heard her gasp when his cock slipped between her hot folds.

The mattress squeaked as Baltozar pounded into her from behind, the only sound in the room beyond the slap of their skin until Havi began begging him to let her come. It just drove him harder, and he shouted when his release arrived, his muscles tense and burning as he buried himself in her hot slit. Somehow, his fingers found her clit, and he pinched as he rode out his orgasm, giving her the relief she so desperately sought.

Havi's scream faded with the sounds of the slowing mattress and she slumped against him, her bare skin just as slick as his now. "Bastard," she muttered, but her eyes were already drifting closed again.

Baltozar chuckled, and slid out of her, bending to run his tongue over her nape piercings as he rose to his feet. Getting one of the Guardians' Protectorate as part of his arrangement with Esme was most definitely the highlight of this particular job. He hadn't really believed when he'd set out to seduce Havi that he'd be able to get her to turn so effectively against the seer she was assigned to safeguard, so he'd been more than a little shocked when it had happened so quickly.

He'd been even more shocked to realize he'd fallen head over heels for her.

He hoped Esme found her fucking Slayer artifacts in this hellhole soon. The quicker he could get Havi out of here and all to himself, the happier he was going to be.

Te be continued in Chapter 15: Love Is My Sin...