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CHAPTER 48: Bad day to be a friend

It was one of those late mornings when the sun just couldn’t manage to pierce its way through the clouds and chase away the rain no matter how hard it tried. It probably wouldn’t last; at this time of the year, morning rain wasn’t all that unusual and often gave way to warm sunshine later on during the day. Not that it would matter one way or another to the blonde woman lying in bed. Buffy stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind empty and her heart heavy. Next to her, Faith was fast asleep, wearing the same clothes as the night before, only they were a bit more rumpled, her shirt wrinkled by her restless tossing and turning. Faith stirred, slowly turning on her back and stretching her stiff muscles with a groan. It had been a bad night in every sense of the word and it had left her feeling raw inside. The rhythmic patter of the light rain against the window served to increase her headache and she shut her eyes, hoping to fall back into oblivious sleep. Of course, she couldn't be that lucky. After ten minutes, she gave up.

Faith sat up slowly, trying her best not to wake the other woman, but a brief glance told her that Buffy was already awake. An uneasy feeling seeped into Faith’s heart at seeing her like this, her face expressionless and her eyes unseeing. But the brunette quickly got herself under control, offering her best fake smile. God knows she didn’t feel like smiling.

“… Hey B.”

Buffy didn’t move, her gaze still fixed on some imaginary spot on the white ceiling. Her mouth was dry, her eyes burning, and she had nothing to say or nothing she wanted to think about. She knew Faith was talking to her, but she’d have to think in order to answer and she didn’t want to.

“Hope I didn’t kick you too much last night.” Faith kept talking, pretending not to notice Buffy’s lack of reaction. “I was told I’m a real fighter when I sleep. Robin woke up with bruised ribs and shins more than once. I even caught him sleeping on the couch once.”

Seeing that she still got nothing from Buffy, Faith sat up completely and swung her legs out of the bed. “I see you’re not in a talking mood so I’ll just leave you alone for a while. I’ll go make some breakfast in case you feel like eating.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Faith looked over her shoulder at Buffy, but didn’t really expect an answer. So she stood up and made her way out of the room, all the while hoping Buffy would snap out of her strange mood and join her in the kitchen. But she doubted that would happen. She looked worse than she did the night before. At least then she’d been crying and talking. Now she just looked… dead.

Faith looked in the cupboards and refrigerator for something to eat. At first, she wanted to make a real breakfast for Buffy, but since she obviously wasn’t going to come out of her funk anytime soon, she decided against the idea. She probably wouldn’t enjoy my cooking talents anyway, Faith reasoned. Since she’d be the only one having breakfast, she opted for the cold slice of left over pizza and a can of soda. Not the breakfast of champions, but it would do just fine.

She sat at the breakfast counter and started munching on the pepperoni pizza while trying to come to terms with what had happened the day before. Buffy didn’t seem to be coping well. No way anyone could blame her, but Faith still couldn’t help wondering what to do to help her friend. She was afraid that Buffy and she weren’t close enough for her presence to be of any help. And she needed to leave in only a few hours. Her shift at the prison started at seven. She’d normally call in sick, but they were short staffed tonight. Faith popped the can of diet coke open and took a long swallow, looking outside thoughtfully. The sky was starting to clear and a few rays of sunshine were already starting to dry the wet lawn. Memories of the party Buffy had thrown a few months ago in her back yard invaded her mind. That day, she’d played it aloof, but she’d been so happy just to be invited and be considered one of Buffy‘s friends. She‘d had a good time.

That made Faith clue in on what she should do. She suddenly stood up and walked to the kitchen with purpose. Opening every drawer, she looked for Buffy’s address book. It had to be near a phone somewhere. There was a phone in the kitchen, the living room, and Buffy’s bedroom. So it had to be in one of those places. She felt guilty for looking through Buffy’s personal belongings, but it was a necessary evil. She finally found what she was looking for in the little side table next to the couch in the living room. The antique-looking table had a drawer, and in it Faith found a black address book.

Her first instinct told her to call Buffy’s mom, but as she was dialing the number she quickly hung up, unsure of her decision. Her impulsiveness had gotten her in trouble more than once before and she didn’t want to do something stupid that would cause Buffy more anguish and pain. What if she hadn’t told her mother about all this? The relationship between Buffy and her mom was open, from what Faith had seen, but would she really tell her mom that she was having an affair with a prisoner and was pregnant? Buffy seemed like the kind of good girl who wouldn’t want to disappoint her mom, so there was a fair chance she wouldn’t share that type of information with Joyce Summers. Faith couldn’t take the risk. That left her with two choices, little sister or best friend. Somehow, Faith had a feeling Buffy and Dawn told each other everything, good or bad.

She picked up the little black book again and found Dawn’s number. Quickly, she dialed. It rang a few times before someone answered. The girl who answered was laughing and shouted something to another occupant of the room before finally saying “hello?”

Faith cut her off, clearly annoyed. “Dawn Summers.” She said in a sharp tone.

“Uh… Yeah. One minute.”

Not long after, another voice came over the phone. “Yeah?”

“Dawn? It’s Faith… Buffy’s friend. We met at the party…”

“Yes, sure. Hi! How are you?”

“Been better, thanks.” Faith said dryly. “I’m at your sister’s place right now.”

Dawn didn’t know what to make of the phone call. She was puzzled that Faith would call her in the first place. They’d never really talked except at the party. And the fact that she was calling her from Buffy’s house was even stranger. It didn’t sound like a social call either.

“What’s going on? Everything OK? Did something bad happen?”

“Whoa, slow down just a sec. First I need to know… Do you and your sister tell each other all your dirty secrets?”

“Why do you want to know that?..”

“Look, can you please just answer?” she said, her voice weary.

“We tell each other everything and in case you wonder, I don’t repeat anything she tells me. So don’t bother asking.”

“It’s not like that, Dawn. I wanted to know because I didn’t want to tell you something you don’t already know. But Buffy needs you right now.”

Faith filled a now distraught Dawn in on the details of what happened the day before.

“Oh God…” The young girl whispered breathlessly. “I’ll be there in two hours. I’ll borrow my roommate’s car.”

“Good. I’ll be here waiting.”

Faith hung up and went to make Buffy some toast and coffee, hoping to convince her to eat something.

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The sound of a car door slamming could be heard from inside the house. Faith stood up and went to the window to look outside. Dawn was running to the front door like she had the devil tailing her.

“That sassy little sister of yours is here, B.” Faith told the quiet woman on the bed.

The only change in Buffy over the past two hours was that she’d turned on her side, probably tired of looking at the ceiling. She had also shaken her head no when Faith had offered the toast and coffee, and nodded when Faith asked her if it was alright that she’d called Dawn. The only time she’d talked was when she’d told Faith that she didn’t want to talk and she was sorry. So Faith had sat on the bed with her and read some magazines.

Dawn burst into the room, then stopped in her tracks, a stricken look on her pretty face at the sight of her sister.

“Oh… Buffy.” She said quietly, almost afraid to disturb the depressive atmosphere in the bedroom.

Faith watched as Dawn quietly climbed on the bed behind her sister and spooned with her, hugging Buffy’s back to her chest and burrowing her face in her blonde hair.

Feeling awkward and out of place, Faith left the bedroom and went to make herself a cup of coffee, hoping it wouldn’t take too long for the siblings to talk it out. She didn’t know if it would be rude to just leave without saying goodbye. She almost snickered out loud at how ridiculously mundane this sounded. Almost as if she’d come over for tea and was now saying her goodbyes. She shook her head and busied herself with preparing coffee. She sat down with her mug when it was done brewing and sat silently at the kitchen table after glancing quickly at the clock. She had a little while before her shift started, but she still had to get out of her dirty clothes and take a shower. She was starting to smell funky.

After almost an hour alone with her own thoughts, Faith was about to get up to leave when Dawn walked into the kitchen. Her red-rimmed eyes said a lot about her current misery. Faith looked at her expectantly.

“So? Anything?”

The young girl shook her head, fresh tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “No. She wouldn’t talk to me. All I got from her was ‘I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.’ You know Buffy… trying to be tough all the time.”

“What about you, college girl? You all right?”

Dawn shook her head without a word.

Faith gave her a sympathetic look. “Sorry kid. I didn’t know who to call and didn’t want to leave her alone. I spent the night here but I need to go to work.”

“Oh.” Dawn sounded dejected. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. A girl’s gotta make a living you know? I swear I would have rather stayed here with you and B, but I really can’t. Giles’ gonna have my head if I don’t show up. We don’t have enough guards to cover every section tonight. If I call in sick, the old man’s gonna have a fit.”

Dawn sat down. "Sure. I understand..."

The younger girl had her hands clasped together between her knees, her shoulder were slumped and she was looking down with a sad pout on her full lips. Faith raised a disbelieving eyebrow at the display.

"'you practice that look a lot, Miss Drama Queen?"

Dawn looked up sharply, looking slightly wounded at the accusation. "I wasn't..."

"Cause I'm telling you, if secretly I wasn't so scared of the British Wonder I work with, it would have probably worked."

Dawn smiled hesitantly. "Really?"

"Absolutely."

Faith squeezed the girl's shoulder affectionately, then put her bag on her shoulder and took her keys on the kitchen table. She started walking away when Dawn stopped her.

"Are you gonna come back?"

"Sure. I'll come check on you girls tomorrow. I left my cell number on the fridge if you need anything."

Dawn nodded.

"And if you tell anyone I'm scared of Giles, there will be hell to pay, missy."

Dawn couldn't help but chuckle at the empty threat. "I wouldn't dare. Your secret is safe with me."

She watched Faith leave, then went to take her place at Buffy's side.

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Faith made her way through the familiar hallways in silence, her eyes down to avoid making eye contact with anybody. She was not in the mood for small talk. She quickly pushed open the door to the infirmary and walked in.

Anya stood up eagerly, then sat back down with a disappointed frown when she saw who it was. "Oh, Faith. It's just you. I thought someone needed my help."

"Actually, Nymph, I sorta do."

"What's wrong?.. And I'm not a nympho! I told you that many times before. I have a healthy sexual appetite, nothing wrong with that."

"Aw, it's nothing but an affectionate little nickname. Don‘t get all freaked out on me for that."

The words were playful, but Anya couldn't help noticing how dull Faith's voice sounded. She stood up again and walked to the dark haired woman. Automatically, Faith extended her arm, offering Anya her bandaged right hand.

"'Need stitches, Nymph."

"What happened?"

"The tiled wall of my shower got in the way of my fist."

"I'm glad not to be your landlord, Faith." Anya commented lightly while her trained hands were unwrapping the gauze covering the wound. When the broken flesh appeared, she whistled under her breath.

"Damn, you must have been really angry at that wall."

"I was a bit upset, yeah. The pain helped."

"What now?" Anya asked, her eyes never leaving her task.

"What do you mean?"

"When your hand heals and there's no more pain, what do you do then? Drop something heavy on your foot? Punch yourself in the face?.. I'm just wondering how breaking your hand helps you not being upset anymore. Isn't pain temporary?"

Faith tensed visibly. "Look, not that I don't appreciate the feeling, but if I wanted a shrink to check out my head, I'd be lying down on a plush leather couch right about now."

"Fine." Anya's eyes got considerably colder and she stopped talking, biting her lower lip and focusing on finishing stitching Faith's hand.

The silence was heavy and uncomfortable, especially coming from the usually chatty nurse, but Faith didn't have the energy left in her to do something about it.

Anya finished up and wrapped clean gauze around the now sutured wound. She turned around without a word and went to wash her hands. "You should go say hello to Spike. He's really lonely."

Anya shook her head, not seeing Faith's panicked look. "I don't understand why no one cares about such a drool worthy male specimen. It's a shame that no one would come visit or at least call him. I think he's a little bit depressed."

Faith took a step back toward the door, her eyes nervously glancing from the room where she knew Spike was, to Anya.

"I can't. Not right now. I'm sorry." She mumbled hurriedly.

And it was the truth. She really couldn't face Spike right now. She'd probably break down and tell him everything. It would hurt him and it would hurt Buffy. No, she really couldn't go in there.

Anya looked even angrier than she'd been. "Geez, all right. I didn't know I was asking so much. I just thought it might have been nice of you to at least ask him how he's doing." She grabbed Faith's good hand and slapped a bottle of pills in it. "Here's something for the pain."

Anya returned to what she was doing before the other woman had walked in, clearly dismissing Faith.

"Thanks. And... I uh... I'll try to bring Geek boy so he can visit Spike later." Faith turned to leave but as she reached for the handle, Anya's voice stopped her.

"I didn't want to be a psychologist to you Faith, I just wanted to be a friend... just thought you should know."

Faith scrunched her eyes shut as if in pain. What was wrong with the world suddenly that everybody wanted to be her friend when for so long, she had no one but herself? She should be ecstatic, but the thing was, she'd just found out that caring about people was a lot more painful than she'd thought.

With a sad smile, she looked over her shoulder to where Anya was waiting expectantly and raised her now throbbing hand, drawing the nurse's attention to the injury. "See, the thing is... I kinda suck at being a friend. Gimme one more person to care about, and God only knows what I‘ll break next."

Anya nodded her understanding, watching sadly as Faith walked out.

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“You are so beyond cool.”

The young prisoner gushed while trotting happily next to Faith. The guard’s eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits, frustration and boredom fighting for dominance on her face. She let out a long, slow breath. This day kept getting worse.

“Amongst the brave men keeping this fortress safe, the one woman bravest of them all is standing tall.”

Faith had never rolled her eyes so much in so little time. About an hour ago, she’d fetched Andrew and took him to the infirmary so he could visit Spike. They were now on their way back to the common room and she could not wait to get there and finally be rid of the annoying little man.

“But now,” Andrew continued his animated speech, completely oblivious to Faith’s irritation. “I know for sure you are the most amazing woman ever created.”

She really couldn’t help but turn her head to give him a look of complete disbelief. Was this guy for real?!

Andrew frowned, the wheels turning in his fantasist head. “Well, maybe not exactly... But right up there. With Ms. Summers. She’s way cool too. You’re my savior, and Spike’s savior. He could have died you know? But you walked right in there and stood up to the corrupt guard and saved him.”

He stopped talking long enough to take a breath and shake his head. “And now... You gave me the chance to finally thank Spike properly. I didn’t really have time to do it yesterday in all this madness.”

Oh God, there were tears in his eyes now! Thank heavens they were almost there.

“You are truly a pure soul, Faith. A tough woman with a heart of gold. Thank you.”

“Uh... yeah. Whatever.”

She unlocked the door to the common room and after pushing Andrew in and letting the door shut behind them, she unlocked his handcuffs.

She looked around and saw two guards coming her way. She sighed in relief at the possible diversion.

“Thank you, Faith. You’re a great person. You're just like..."

"OK! I get it. You're welcome. Now scram..."

Andrew opened his mouth to say something else, but as soon as he saw the two guard coming their way, he decided that listening to what Faith said would be a good idea after all. These guys were mean. So he scrammed.

Faith looked expectantly at her two coworkers. She didn't like them, couldn't even remember their names, but they were a welcome distraction from Geek boy. Anything that would save her from the little prisoner's chatter could only be seen as a good thing.

"Yo, what's up boys?"

The two guards didn't answer right away. They stopped in front of the female guard and stood there, just a little too close for comfort. Right away, Faith could detect a certain level of tension. She had a feeling the worse day ever just got a little bit worse. She still kept on her "tough girl" facade, hoping it would deter these two idiots' intentions.

"I said: What. Is. Up? That too complicated a question for you guys? You spill now, because I have other things to do... places to be. Ya know the drill."

The two other guards had decidedly unpleasant smiles on their faces. One of them--tall and skinny, definitely ugly--finally spoke up.

"You think you're the shit, Faith, don't you? Think because you're the only female guard here, you can rule the place?"

"Excuse me?” She exclaimed, anger flashing in her brown eyes. “What the fuck are you getting at?"

The slightly shorter man, with red hair and tattoos, advanced on her. He only took one step, but the message was clear. Faith tensed, her whole body on alert.

Tall and ugly continued his little speech, clearly not impressed by Faith. "It's bad enough we have to let one chick make the rules because she's the warden and we don't have a God damn word to say about it, we're not gonna let a little egotistical bitch like you make the law too. Got me?"

Doing her best to look unimpressed, Faith took a step closer to tall and ugly. She hesitated a moment, trying hard to remember his name but without success. She never worked with those two because she usually had the day shift and they worked at night. She decided Asshole suited him. "Look asshole, either you tell me what the hell you're talking about right now, or this conversation is over. You're making me waste my time here."

"You always manage to get your way and we're sick of it." Mr. Tattoo explained. "You got the last warden fired, you're kissing up to the new one, and now you fucking got Jake fired thanks to that BIG FUCKING MOUTH of yours. Just because you have tits doesn’t mean you can get away with everything. Not here."

Faith took two steps back only to encounter the very solid wall. Suddenly, she realized what that long phone call Buffy made when they got to her place the day before was all about.

"So, she fired Jake then..." Faith stated, more for her own benefit.

"Not officially, but he got his security access card taken away and somehow," Tall and ugly said through clenched teeth, his eyes burning with hatred. "I think it has something to do with you and what happened in the shower room yesterday morning."

Deciding this was getting out of hand and things didn't look so good for her, Faith tried to punch the nearest of her tormentors. She had to use her left hand because of her injury, and with her back against the wall, she couldn’t pull back enough to deliver a serious punch. Her fist came at the red head slow enough for him to catch it in his meaty paw and stop her before she reached her intended target. He quickly used his other hand to crush her throat painfully and slam her against the wall. The two men used their body to shield the scene from anybody who'd care to look.

"You might act all tough and mighty, Faith, but in the end, you're just a scared little girl. Aren't you?"

Her hands were clawing at the red head's hand, trying to somehow relieve some of the pressure around her wind pipe.

"Fuck you!" She managed to croak.

"No, fuck YOU Faith. You'll soon find out who really makes the rules around here, and it's not a little bitch like you..."

Faith was starting to see black spots, when suddenly, the pressure around her neck was gone. She dropped to her knees and tried desperately to catch her breath. For a few seconds, she was unaware of the commotion and only thought he'd decided to let her go. Then she heard an angry male voice yelling: "Get your fucking hands off of her!"

Faith looked up.

Charles Gunn was in the middle of doing quite a number on her attacker's face.

She massaged her bruised throat for a moment while watching the scene, a surprised look on her pretty face. Looked like she'd just been rescued by a tall, well muscled, black hunky knight in shining armor. The day was turning out pretty good in the end.

She noticed Tall and ugly snapping out of his stupor and looking like he was just about to help his little buddy. Faith stood up on slightly shaky legs and quickly reached him. She cocked her fist and hit him, satisfied when it connected with his jaw. Yep, she still had it.

The other guards on duty in the room had just noticed the commotion and came running. Right away, they tried to grab hold of Gunn, but Faith stopped them.

"Wrong guy. He was just defending me against these two assholes."

They released Charles, and he came closer to Faith.

"'You OK, there?"

"I'll live. Thanks… I owe you one, big boy. Not that I really needed help or anything..." She quickly added.

An amused smile played on his lips. "Yeah right. He was choking you. You were about to pass out. Face it, you were toast, girl."

Faith snorted. "As if. I had everything under control... I had a plan you know."

“I’d like to hear that fabulous plan of yours. I’m curious.”

“Play the damsel in distress and wait for a drool worthy hunk of a man to rescue me.”

She winked at him, then follow another guard out of the room, leaving Charles Gunn speechless.

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CHAPTER 49: Don't kill the messenger

Spike walked through the cafeteria, ignoring the stares and snickers of the other inmates. He’d only been in the infirmary for four days, but it was enough to remind him of how much he really hated being around the other inmates. Apparently, he was well enough to leave. Since they hadn’t received any more orders about him from the warden, they’d decided he could go back to his cell. Anya said she’d need to see him a few more times to check how his wound was healing and he needed to stay out of trouble, but otherwise, he was fine. Too bad. He would definitely miss having nurse Anya bringing him half decent food in bed. Maybe he could get stabbed again... Right. No. He’d promised Buffy to be careful from now on. Meaning no more breakfast in bed. Bleeding hell.

He looked around and, not seeing Gunn anywhere, made his way to a table in the far corner. He put his tray down on the table and before he could sit, a high pitched voice caught his attention.

The two hobbits were walking in his direction. At first, he thought about picking up his tray and moving to the other end of the room, but then what Andrew said made him pause.

“So, I finally found out what happened to the warden...” Andrew told Jonathan with an air of self-importance.

“It’s the third time you’ve said that and then said you’ll tell me later. Will you just tell me already!” Jonathan whined, clearly annoyed with his friend.

“Relax. I’m telling you now.” The taller geek rolled his eyes.

They were now almost next to Spike and he could hear every word clearly. They obviously hadn‘t noticed him standing there, so he decided to listen in on the conversation they were having.

“Apparently, the poor woman lost her baby. Isn‘t that sad?”

“No way! That totally sucks. Who told you that?”

Before Andrew could figure out what was happening to him, Spike had his hand clutched tightly around his throat and held him against the wall, his feet not touching the ground. Andrew desperately attempted to pry the stronger man's hands from his throat but the attempt was futile. The look on Spike's face was positively terrifying. Jonathan ran as far from harm‘s way as he could, of course.

"What the BLEEDING HELL do you mean?" Spike hissed in Andrew‘s face.

"Nothing..." Andrew croaked pitifully.

"People don't go around flapping their gums about things like that and mean 'nothing'. You explain yourself now if you like your head attached to the rest of your body. Understand?"

Andrew was looking around in hopes of finding help, wondering why the guards hadn't noticed yet, but no one was paying attention. He fleetingly thought of how tragic it was that such a drama was happening in plain sight and people were oblivious to it. Something Shakespeare could have easily been inspired by if he’d still been alive...

Spike shook him back to reality, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through his torso. “WHERE did you hear that rubbish? Will you answer or do I have to snap your head off?”

Andrew grunted weakly.

“What are you saying, geek? I didn’t quite get that.”

Andrew pointed at the hand constricting his airway. In his rage, Spike had squeezed a little harder than he should have if he wanted the wanker to talk. He released some of the pressure, but kept his hand around Andrew’s throat in case the little man decided to try something.

“That hurt you big bully!” Andrew whimpered, trying his best to glare at Spike.

“Don’t make up stories about the warden, and people won’t go ‘round crushing your windpipe. Should have bloody well thought about this before running your mouth.”

“I didn’t make up stories! I was just repeating what I heard.” Andrew managed to look offended by the accusation despite the fact that he was walking a dangerous line. But he still had the presence of mind to lower his voice before concluding: “The warden had a miscarriage. That‘s all I know and I didn‘t make that up, I swear.”

Spike paled and gritted his teeth in barely suppressed rage and fear. “And where the fuck did you hear that?”

The little blonde geek got all animated with excitement. “Well, I was walking into the library when I overheard a guard who was talking to another guard. Apparently, this guys, Julian, is friends with the cafeteria lady, you know, Mrs. Metzger?”

Only one look at Spike told Andrew that he better not wait for an answer. “Anyway, he said that Mrs. Metzger heard it from Joseph who is one of the prison employees parking attendants. Not that I knew that since I‘ve never actually parked a car here, but that’s what the guard said.”

“Andrew...” Spike almost growled in warning.

“I HAVE a point here! If you’ll just let me get to it. Geez! So that guy, Joseph, said he was working one afternoon a few days ago when he saw Ms. Summers walking to her car. She never made it. She passed out right there in the parking lot. He said Faith was there and she was really freaked out. He said Ms. Summers was sent to the hospital because she miscarried. That’s why she’s been MIA for a few days now. I don‘t know why you‘re so pissed, but don‘t be mad at me, be mad at the person who actually started the rumor. You know what they say about killing the messenger... Don‘t.”

Spike let go of the other man completely, his arm falling limply to his side, suddenly numb. That’s the moment the guards chose to interfere.

Two guards grabbed him and pulled him away from where Andrew was still standing.

“Come on, Rayne.” One of the guards said. “Get off the poor guy. Can’t you see he’s not interested.” The guard chuckled.

“Yeah, Rayne--no means no!” The other guard said in a falsetto voice, taunting the prisoner.

In what could have been a reenactment of a scene that happened almost a year ago--the day of his arrest--Spike let the guards take him away without the slightest reaction. Until their supervisor stopped them. Rupert Giles was standing in their way, and did not look happy. He was frowning while taking in Spike’s appearance.

“Where are you taking him?”

“Isolation, sir.”

"Don't you know he got injured only a few days ago?"

The two guards gave each other similar puzzled looks before one of them shrugged and answered. "So?"

"If you'd paid more attention, you'd notice he obviously reopened his wound.” Giles looked pointedly at Spike’s shirt where a blood stain could be seen. “Putting him in isolation wouldn't be the brightest choice."

"But he attacked another prisoner, sir."

Giles' stern look settled on Spike. "Again I say, not the brightest thing to do. What possessed you, I haven't got a clue." He turned to the guards. "Leave it. I will take him to his cell myself. Dear lord, you two are useless and have no common sense whatsoever."

Afraid of the repercussions for arguing with their boss, the two guards walked away, leaving Spike in Giles' care. He led the unresponsive man to his cell. Another guard, Peter, who was still relatively new to the prison, unlocked the door for them.

"Thank you, Peter, that'd be all."

"But..." The tall young man hesitated, unsure of the procedure. "He's bleeding through his shirt, shouldn't I call the nurse?"

"He might have reopened his wound. I'll check the stitches myself. If it's more serious than I think it is, I'll get her." He dismissed Peter and closed the bars behind him.

Once alone with Spike, Giles led the prisoner to the cot and made him sit.

"What in the bleeding hell got into you?"

When he didn't get a response from Spike, he sighed heavily. "Open up your shirt so I can see what kind of damage you did to yourself. Unfortunately, Buffy would be upset with me if I let you bleed to death. I'd rather avoid that."

Spike obeyed almost mechanically, still not saying a word. He opened his shirt, revealing the gauze wrapped around his midsection. A large spot of fresh blood was slowly spreading, the bright red a sharp contrast against the white of the bandage.

Giles clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Bleeding hell... I don't even know why they would let you out of the infirmary so soon anyway. Lie down, I'll go get Anya."

The guard was turning around to leave the cell when Spike finally spoke.

"Is it true?"

Giles stopped and turned to face Spike. He finally noticed there was something terribly wrong with the prisoner. Something that had nothing to do with his physical injury.

"Whatever do you mean?"

Spike shook his head as if trying to rid his brain of the stupor and focus on what was going on. "I heard something just now... a rumor..."

"William, get on with it. I'm slowly reaching the end of my patience. What in the world are you talking about?"

Blue eyes full of pain turned to look at Giles. "Did Buffy miscarry?" He chuckled humorlessly. "It's gotta be some stupid rumor. Has to be... would know if she was pregnant in the first place, wouldn‘t I?"

Giles froze. For a moment, his mouth hung open and he was speechless. He'd thought it odd that Buffy would take a few days off without telling him, and he did try to call her without ever managing to get a hold of her. But it never crossed his mind... Could it be true? Surely, she would have told him.

"Where did you hear this nonsense? Buffy is perfectly fine."

Spike kept his eyes trained on the other British man for a moment before speaking again. "Is she? Really? Because for a moment there, you hesitated. Where is she if she's OK?"

"Probably home, sick. A cold maybe... nothing to worry yourself with."

"She would have told me. She doesn't tell me everything of course, but I was injured and last time I saw her, she was really upset about it and promised to visit every day. If she got sick, she would have sent you or Faith to let me know."

"Faith? What does Faith have to do with this?"

"The bird found out about Buffy and I the day I got injured."

Giles took his glasses off and carefully cleaned the lenses. He could feel the beginning of a head ache forming at his temples and between his eyes. "I'm not even going to comment on this. The two of you have been taking tremendous risks with this. I cannot believe Buffy would be so careless as to let..."

"I thought you said you weren't going to comment on this?" Spike snapped. He was on edge. He needed to know if what Andrew said was true.

Giles glared at Spike, but he understood. If he was right about this, Buffy hadn't even told him yet that she was pregnant. Meaning not only did the poor bloke just find out through someone else, but there was also a chance she might have lost the child.

"I'm telling the truth, Spike. I don't know anything. But I'll find out what is wrong with her, if only to put your worries at ease. But keep in mind that Buffy still has quite a few enemies in this prison and anybody could have started a false rumor. Most likely, it's nothing at all. But if it makes you feel better, I'll stop by her house and see for myself."

Spike hung his head, feeling drained of his energy. "Thanks Rupert. I would appreciate that."

Giles nodded and turned to leave.

"I'll send Anya to take a look at your injury."

Without a word, Spike lay down, not caring that he was on Snyder's bed. He didn't even want to attempt climbing up into his own bed and it would also be easier for the nurse to change his bandage this way. He stared at the top bunk with unseeing eyes. If this rumor was true, it meant that Buffy had been pregnant. Did she know? Or did she just find out when it was already too late? Or maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe she did pass out but didn't lose the baby if baby there was. He remembered that day; she'd been exhausted emotionally and physically. There was a chance that she might still be pregnant and resting at home.

The idea that he might not be the father didn't even cross his mind. Buffy wouldn't betray him that way. Not that he would blame her if she did, but he didn't believe that. He didn't want to think she was that kind of woman. Buffy wasn’t Drusilla. If she'd met someone else, he liked to believe that she would be honest with him about it, no matter how much it would hurt. No, if she was pregnant, the baby had to be his. But Spike knew he was getting ahead of himself. He didn't even know for sure if it was true. And if it was true, chances were there wasn’t a baby anymore. But if there was...

Well, he really didn't know how he felt about that. Of course he'd be happy. How could he not? The situation was less than ideal but they would cope. It would be bad, but in a way, he'd feel like he'd given Buffy something of him to take home.

Spike sat up quickly and automatically hissed in pain, his abused body protesting loudly.

Didn't he tell Buffy recently that they should be more careful and take extra precautions so she wouldn't get pregnant? Something about how bad it would be if she got pregnant by accident? Was she already pregnant at the time? That sure as hell would explain why she didn't tell him.

Spike rested his head back on the pillow and shut his eyes.

"You fucking WANKER!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Giles knocked a few times, the front door opened on a dark and quiet house. Dawn stood in front of him, looking nothing like the cheerful and carefree girl he’d met not too long ago. Her eyes were tired, her long chocolate brown hair was pulled back into a sloppy pony tail, she was wearing ratty sweat pants and an old Hemery High t-shirt. However, her face brightened considerably when she saw him.

“Giles! Oh my God, hi!”

“Hello, Dawn.”

“I’m so glad you’re here, you have no idea.”

Giles smiled warmly at the young woman. “Would you mind if I came in?”

“I’m sorry, how rude of me. Come in.” Dawn blushed prettily.

She stepped aside to let Giles in. He nodded and smiled gratefully at her.

“Thank you. Is… Is Buffy home, by any chance?”

The light left Dawn’s eyes at the mention of Buffy. It made Giles’ heart tighten in worry. “Is something wrong, Dawn? Is Buffy alright? Is she here?”

“… Yes, no and yes.”

He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Would you care to elaborate, please?”

“Something is wrong, Buffy is NOT alright even though she keeps saying she is, and yes she’s here. She’s in her bedroom right now. She barely left her room at all in the past couple of days.” Dawn’s eyes filled up with tears. “Did you know she was pregnant?”

Giles nodded carefully, suddenly filled with a sense of doom.

“Well she’s not anymore.”

“Oh dear lord…”

She turned around and walked to the kitchen.

“I have water boiling.” The young girl said in a flat voice. “I was making tea. Do you want some?”

Giles shook himself out of his shock. “I appreciate it, Dawn, but I’ll pass. Would it be alright if I go see Buffy?”

Dawn faced him and gave the older man a grateful look. “Please. Maybe you’ll get through to her. I tried and nothing will make her snap out of it. I don’t know what to do to make it better.”

“This is a hard situation, Dawn. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Buffy will have to deal with her grief on her own time. You can’t be expected to fix this. Just being there for her is already plenty enough, I’m sure.”

She managed a weak smile. “I just hate to see her in that much pain. I wish I could do something to help. Maybe you’ll have more luck.”

“All I can do is promise to try.”

Giles turned and made his way to Buffy’s room, leaving Dawn with her thoughts and her own grief.

He knocked lightly on the door, not wanting to wake Buffy up if she was sleeping.

“Yeah?”

Giles opened the door. Buffy was sitting in a comfy chair by the window. She had her legs tucked beneath her and was looking outside.

He went to sit at the end of her unmade bed and waited for her to look at him before speaking.

When she finally did, he gave her a small smile. “Hello Buffy.”

“Hi.” She answered quietly.

He remained silent, waiting for her to speak when she was ready. What could he say anyway? That he was sorry? The words couldn’t even come close to expressing his feelings, and would probably be interpreted as pity. She didn’t look like someone who wanted pity at the moment.

It took a little while, but she finally broke the silence.

“It’s so hard, Giles.”

“I know.” His voice was soft, hoping to offer some kind of comfort to the broken girl.

She shifted in the chair and drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her bent legs in a protective manner.

“I can’t do this. I really don’t think I can.”

“Buffy, of course you can. You’re a strong woman. The strongest I’ve ever met.”

“I used to think I was, but I’m starting to realize that maybe I was fooling myself. Everybody has a breaking point and I think I’ve just reached mine.”

Giles stood up and came to sit on the armrest of her armchair. He reached down and took her hand in his in a show of support. Support that she desperately needed at the moment.

“Women who go through this,” She continued in a voice thick with sorrow. “…they can stay at home and work through the pain with the arms of the man they love around them. Well, unless they’re in love with a jerk I guess. But me… What kind of choice do I have? Either I stay home, alone, or I go to work so I can steal a few moments with my man. But that would mean having to face all these people and pretend that everything is all right. I don’t think I have the courage to smile right now. I would probably end up breaking down in front of them.”

The young woman was obviously fighting tears and Giles reached out to push a stray lock of her blonde hair behind her ear in an instinctive fatherly gesture.

“I need him so much.” She whispered in a barely audible voice.

Making a decision, Giles got up and not letting go of her small hand, he gently pulled her up to her feet. She didn’t even have the strength to resist.

Standing in the middle of the room and looking every bit like a lost little girl, Buffy watched Giles disappear inside her walk-in closet. He came out of the closet a moment later, holding a pair of jeans and a long sleeve black cotton t. He put everything down on the bed and faced Buffy.

“You take a quick shower and get dressed. I’ll have some coffee ready for you when you’re done. That should refresh you enough so I can take you for a quick visit at the prison. And I won’t take no for an answer so don’t waste your time.”

Without waiting for an answer, he walked out of the bedroom, leaving Buffy to stare at his retreating back. It took a few moments, but she finally moved to go pick up the clothes he left for her on the bed and made her way to the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~