TITLE: The Ticking Clock
AUTHOR: JK Philips
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: After my resurrection of Buffy in “Death Brings Clarity.” Can Buffy and Giles live happily ever after? Or will the very nature of the Slayer tear them apart? Is it illness, a spell, or just the next level of her slayer powers? I got this idea from a challenge on the Watching You, Watching Me website. I won’t tell you which challenge, because that would give it away. :)
SPOILERS: Everything up to “The Gift”
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters; they are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. I simply am doing this for fun, and non-profit use.
EMAIL:
. Would love feedback. This is only my second fanfic. :)MY WEBSITE: www.jkphilips.com
--------------------------------------------------- Part 4: The Ghost of Christmas Past Buffy studied her profile in the full-length mirror. She smoothed the T-shirt over her rounded stomach and looked down. She couldn’t even see her feet. She heard Giles’ laughter behind her, and spun quickly to see him leaning against the bedroom doorway, his arms crossed. “If you’re going to get that big, perhaps we should rethink this whole baby thing.” Buffy pulled the pillow out from under her shirt and threw it at him. He ducked. “Willow and Tara are taking me shopping for maternity clothes. I was trying to get an idea of what size I’ll need. And you should know better than to mock your pregnant girlfriend.” He looked away at the word girlfriend. He did that a lot lately. Buffy grabbed her purse and swept past him. “We’re going Christmas shopping after. It’s only two weeks away. You promised to get a tree on the way home from the shop. Don’t forget.” She stopped and walked back to him, remembering that she’d forgotten to kiss him. “Oh, and I’ll pick up Dawn after school. You gave Anya the afternoon off, and we’re all going for our final fittings.” She frowned and picked up the pillow from where it had landed on the floor. “Maybe I should take the pillow for my fitting. You think this is six months?” She shrugged. “They can always take it in before the wedding. They’ll have to fit me again right before anyway. How will I explain that one? Maybe I should wear it to my fitting.” Buffy stuffed the pillow under one arm and the purse under the other, not noticing that Giles had merely listened to her babbling without comment. He didn’t seem to be taking this as well as she. He was really and truly freaked out. She had taken a few days to adjust, but now she just accepted that they had a baby coming in about five and a half weeks. Kind of like getting the overnight shipping instead of the standard ground. She had even started to look for the silver lining. Her morning sickness had already gone, and she wouldn’t have to spend months feeling big, awkward, and uncomfortable. Giles, on the other hand, was in a panic. He made The List. The List was carried around on his person at all times, constantly added to as more necessities came to mind. Sometimes The List was copied off and highlighted, so that others could help finish some of the tasks. Always next to The List could be found The Calendar. He had distilled volumes of pregnancy books and converted all the relevant dates into their own timetable, which he then wrote in teeny, tiny fly writing on The Calendar. Also could be found important dates like Xander and Anya’s wedding, her father’s wedding, Christmas, New Year’s, and Dawn’s birthday. The fact that the last five weeks before the baby came spanned all of these events only added to her poor watcher’s stress levels. Once she had written in “de-stress Giles” on The List, but he had not been amused. He had crossed the offending item off and explained in very serious tones the importance of The List and The Calendar. She had struggled not to laugh. In spite of all her teasing, she was grateful for Giles’ organization and planning. In the four days since their due date had abruptly shifted, Giles had already emptied his study in preparation for a nursery, gotten the Council to fly in a doctor from their ranks to care for her until term, convinced Spike to patrol in Buffy’s place, and purchased a beeper for the big event. He had even gotten them signed up for a one day crash course in Lamaze. The normal courses spanned weeks, which in their case was quite impossible. Sometimes he had nightmares. Not as bad as when she had died, but still worrisome. At least until she heard him mumble things like, “Not yet, Buffy, we don’t have a crib.” and “They won’t let us take her home without a car seat.” She would snuggle a little closer, and usually that was enough to settle him back into a peaceful slumber. She met her two favorite witches at the mall. Her friends were all cool with the new timetable. Shoot, it wasn’t their baby. All this meant for them was less waiting before they could start spoiling it. “So how is the pregnant one today?” Willow asked as they met outside the Gap. “Perfect,” Buffy answered. “And the little Rabbit?” Willow had taken to calling the baby Rabbit after commenting that nine weeks sounded more like the time it took to grow rabbits than babies. Buffy patted her stomach. In sweats and a baggy T-shirt, it still looked pretty flat, although when she ran her hand across it, one could see the slight roundness developing there. “Little Rabbit’s had me in sweatpants the last four days. Come on, let’s find something more fashionable.” They headed off to Motherwear, chatting as they went. “So how is Giles today?” Tara asked. It was always smart to keep tabs on the mood of one’s employer. “Yeah,” Willow seconded. “Anything more from The List that we’re supposed to be doing?” “Probably. I didn’t stop to ask.” Willow took Tara’s hand and swung it between them as they walked. “So is he still wigging? Or is he a little cooler now?” “Totally wigging. Sometimes I think he feels like he’s the guy in the movie who’s defusing a bomb. And there’s like that big clock going 10, 9, 8… And he doesn’t know if he’ll find the right wire in time. Yeah, sometimes it seems like he’s got that big digital clock superimposed right over The List. Every time he looks at it, he just gets that panicky glazed expression. Strangely enough, though, at other times I think he’s just glad that he didn’t get me pregnant on accident. He’s proud to be just the One-Try Guy again.” Barely an hour after entering the maternity store, Buffy exited in a foul mood, carrying only one bag and with the two witches following at a safe distance. “Does no one make decent maternity clothes? I mean, jeeze, they have Baby Gap, don’t they? Where’s my Mommy Gap? Everything they had in there was stuff... well, stuff that I could see Giles buying for me. Much more his taste.” “It’s only five weeks or so, Buffy,” Willow attempted to cheer her up. “And I don’t think they make the kinds of clothes you like to wear for people...” she trailed off, seemingly aware she was crossing over into dangerous territory. Buffy shrugged. “For people as fat as I’m going to get? It’s okay, Will. I’ve accepted it. I’m hoping the whole slayer package will trim me back up after the baby comes.” Tara suggested, “Maybe you can just buy normal clothes, but in bigger sizes.” Buffy brightened. “Hey, there’s a thought. Come on girls, more shopping!” By the time they left to pick up Dawn, Buffy had accumulated a trunk full of clothes. Probably more than she would ever really wear for the remaining five and a half weeks of her pregnancy, but clothes were her thing, and Buffy saw no reason to sacrifice her fashion sense just because she was going to be a mother. Although, Giles might tend to argue with her when he saw how much she’d spent. Then off to the bridal shop, where Anya was haggling with the clerks over the cost of alterations. To turn Buffy’s dress into maternity wear would cost nearly as much as the dress itself. In the end, Anya was a tough customer and had bargained them down to half the original quote, plus a discount on the other bridesmaids’ dresses as well. Buffy had the dress for her father’s wedding altered at the same time. She still hadn’t worked up how to inform him of his impending grandfatherly status. Walking down the aisle at his wedding seven months along didn’t seem like such a good idea, although it could be rather fun. But really, she didn’t hate Susan that much. Besides, Buffy would rather Giles lived through the night. Alterations were quickly followed by Christmas shopping, and the group split off and came together several times so people could buy things for each other. Buffy found an exquisite gold pocketwatch for Giles. The kind of solid watch you passed down through generations. She immediately fell in love with it. Dawn thought that she was being extravagant and that Giles was likely to be cross with Buffy for spending so much. But Buffy wanted him to have it. It reminded her of the Giles she had first met back in the library at the very beginning, before Jenny and Angelus and all the pain his slayer had caused him. The stuffy English librarian with his tweed suits and waistcoats. She’d always thought he should have a pocketwatch tucked in the front of his vest. It just fit him more than a wristwatch. She imagined that he would have pulled it out, snapped it open, and timed her during training and patrol. Plunge and move on, plunge and move on, he had scolded her. So she plunged and moved on, purchasing the watch and placing an order with the jeweler to have it engraved. One word in perfect calligraphy to be carved on the inside cover. Daddy. The watch was ready an hour later, and the others were too. They met again by the gift wrapping, teasing each other with hints about their gifts. Since Buffy had purchased nothing for Dawn today, she asked her sister to have everything wrapped for her while she made a run to the restroom. If she had to go this often already, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like five weeks from now. She gave Dawn one last reminder to put gift tags on everything, or it would be a nightmare to sort out on Christmas day. “Oh, and don’t let anyone see Giles’ present,” she admonished as she headed off to the bathrooms near the food court. “I want it to be a surprise.” At the end of the day, Buffy pulled into the driveway and started unloading the car, somewhat grateful that she had beaten Giles home. Maybe he wouldn’t notice how much stuff she had bought. Her feet were achy, and she was tired. She considered taking a long hot soak in the tub. The very thought made her perhaps a little too eager to get in the door. She didn’t notice the envelope resting on the front step. Dawn noticed it as she followed her sister in, and handed it to Buffy. “What’s this?” Buffy frowned and examined the plain manila envelope. No address or postage, it had been hand delivered. On the front were simply the letters “R.G.” She opened it and pulled out an 8 by 10 black and white photo. “What is it?” Dawn asked again, leaning over to see. An old photo of five young ruffians, standing together in the alleyway outside an unsavory pub. None of them more than 20 or 21, the only woman in the picture probably closer to 16 or 17. They wore the kind of expressions that if the average person saw them approaching from down the block, he would cross the street to avoid them. Buffy recognized the man straddling the motorcycle. Ethan Rayne. Younger, unkempt hair, dressed in leather, smoking a cigarette, and grinning at the camera with the same devil-may-care smirk she remembered receiving as he tied her down and tattooed the big demon homing signal on the back of her neck. There was only one other person she knew from the photograph. Giles. His hair was long like Ethan’s, but in that stylish rock star look, like in the photo Xander had shown her after Eyghon. He was smiling at the camera too, but in the way a hunter must smile before he takes down his prey. She shivered at the thought of the very different man Giles might have become, had he continued down that path. Ethan, for all his bravado, was nothing but a coward beneath. But Giles, if he had taken the path of dark magic and demon summoning and chaos, would have become a man to be feared. She had seen glimmers of it, when he had faced Ethan or the Mayor or when she had watched him strangle Ben in his dream. Giles could have become a man to equal Angelus. In the photo, he held the young woman against him with one arm, his hand low across her hip, nearly at her groin. His other hand held a cigarette away from their bodies, the ash having burned so far up its length that the slightest breeze could have dissolved the whole thing. And the woman, the girl really since she couldn’t be more than 16, she was leaning back against his chest, her head tipped up to whisper something in his ear. The expression on her face was one of complete adoration. But Giles didn’t return her affection. He was focused on the camera, grinning that predatory grin at whoever was taking the picture. Buffy felt uneasy. Not because of the content of the photo. What did she care about his past lovers? Giles had found his girlfriend murdered, her body arranged in his bed in a cruel mockery of seduction, was captured, and then sadistically tortured, all done by Buffy’s ex-boyfriend. Was she supposed to get worked up over a twenty-year-old photo of Giles holding another woman in his arms? No, what left her cold was the fact that someone had left this on her doorstep in the first place. They knew where she lived and were near enough to have hand delivered it today. More than that, the initials on the outside indicated that it was meant for Giles. She turned the photo over. Written clearly on the glossy paper were the words, Why didn’t you come back for me? “Let me see already.” Dawn snatched the picture from her hand, turning it over to study the young delinquents again. She peered intently, and then her eyes widened. “Wow. Is that Giles? He was pretty cute when he was young. If he looked like that now, maybe I could understand why you-” “Dawn,” Buffy interrupted, grabbing her hand and backing them both out of the house. “Come on, I’m taking you next door. I want you to wait with Mrs. Isaacson until I say it’s okay to come home.” Mrs. Isaacson was happy to watch Dawn for a few minutes, but Buffy had to talk her out of calling the police. Buffy returned to the front door and stepped in hesitantly. She hoped Giles would be back soon. She didn’t relish a confrontation with an intruder without her slayer powers. She pulled out a small saber from inside the front closet. She still had the knowledge, if not the strength or the reflexes. She took a few steps before she frowned and looked back at the closet. That would have to be childproofed. She would have to tell Giles to add it to The List. She made a quiet sweep of the house, upstairs and down, but no sign of trespass. And then she heard footsteps on the stairs behind her and spun 180 degrees, her sword leveled. “Jesus, Buffy!” Giles exclaimed, stumbling backwards on the steps and grabbing the rail to keep from falling. “What are you doing?” The saber clattered to the floor, and she threw herself in his arms. “I’m so glad you’re home.” He stroked her back fondly, asking softly, “Is this a slayer pregnancy thing? Should I start wearing protective gear around the house?” She scowled at him in irritation. “No, but someone was at the house. They left something on the porch for you.” He looked concerned. “Show me.” She took him back downstairs and gave him the picture, but he didn’t seem as surprised as she thought he should be. “Who’s the girl?” His face was contemplative, lost in memories. One finger stroked along the woman’s outline. “Diedre Page. Ethan found her waiting tables in some dive strip club. She’d run away from home and just gotten thrown out of her flat. He brought her to ours. I think he was rather put out when she fancied me over him.” Giles shook himself out of his reverie and met Buffy’s gaze. “Does it bother you?” She shrugged. “No more than Angel should bother you.” A pause. “Okay, bad example. I meant, no it doesn’t bother me. Who are the others?” He didn’t point out Ethan. He knew she would recognize him. He merely identified the men on either side of the picture. “Thomas Sutcliffe. Philip Henry. Philip you might remember from the incident with Eyghon. He died, and then you locked him in the book cage after he attacked you.” Buffy nodded. “The dead guy who turned to goo?” “Yes,” Giles answered softly, again drifting away from her and into the long ago past. “We were inseparable. The six Musketeers for lack of a better analogy.” “Six? I only count five.” He blinked up at her for a moment, seemingly disoriented by the shifts back and forth between present and past. “Randall. He must have taken this photo. He had majored in photography at Oxford. That’s how I met him. He dropped out and joined up with us, but he never gave up the camera. He was always snapping pictures of the lot of us. I don’t think I’d seen any of them before now. He would never show them to us.” Giles touched his fingers to the images of each friend, even Ethan. “Out of all of us, there’s just Ethan and I left now.” Buffy didn’t want to rush him through what appeared to be some powerful emotions, but she needed answers. “Giles, what does this mean?” She flipped over the photo in his hands. He caught his breath and paled when he saw the words. Why didn’t you come back for me? “Giles?” He looked up at her, startled, and then tossed the photo onto the end table with finality. “Nothing you should be worrying about right now, Buffy.” He laid his hand across her stomach to make her understand his meaning. “But if something’s-” “No,” he said firmly. “Let me handle this. Now where’s Dawn?” “I sent her to stay with the neighbors until I knew it was safe. I’ll… I’ll go get her.” Buffy paused at the threshold. “Umm… There’s some packages in the Jeep, if you want to bring them in. Umm… Now, don’t flip, but there’s actually a lot of packages. But really, I like needed a whole new wardrobe.” He chuckled. “Buffy, we’re not poor. I’m not going to begrudge you your maternity clothes or whatever else you needed.” “Yeah, okay, but there’s really a lot. And some stuff for the baby. And I may have gone overboard with Christmas. But no peeking. Well, they’re wrapped anyway, so you can’t. But don’t even try. Oh, did you get the tree?” He shook his head. “You took the Jeep, Buffy. How would I have brought it home?” “Aghh! We were supposed to switch cars today. I’m sorry. I forgot.” “It’s alright, really. I did hesitate at the thought of you driving my car.” She scowled and tossed him the keys. “I’ll be back with Dawn in a sec. And just for that, I’m not helping to carry anything in.” She shut the door behind her, trying to forget about the picture or the look on Giles’ face when he read those words. They would have a nice, non-demony Christmas, and that was all there was to it. *** Giles opened the hatch of the Jeep and was truly astonished at the number of bags. But the store was doing well, he had sublet his flat, the house was paid for, and Buffy and Dawn had money enough from the gallery and their mother’s life insurance. If his slayer wanted to splurge, then he would let her. Each trip in, he would pause at the photograph. One person not in the frame. But he had heard the voice. When he was closing up for the night, almost out the door, he had answered the phone. Seven little words at the other end. “Why didn’t you come back for me?” Click. And then nothing more. A voice he had thought dead ages ago. A voice he had frankly not thought about in four years, and before that nearly twenty. Randall’s voice. His hand had shook when he replaced the receiver. With the clear reasoning of a Watcher, he had quickly dialed the operator, but the call couldn’t be traced. Why didn’t you come back for me? Why was this happening now of all times? And would he be forced to pay for his past sins for the rest of his life? Could he ever balance the scales? How many lives would he have to save before he would be redeemed? He looked into his own eyes, into the image of the man he had once been. His younger self seemed to be mocking him, smiling at him, as if to say, You’ll never be free of me. I’ll always be inside of you. He slipped the photograph into the desk drawer and out of sight. *** Four days later, and it was Saturday. Buffy seemed to grow more each day. Every time she stepped onto the scale, she despaired of ever fitting into any of her leather pants again. Giles advised her not to weigh herself everyday, as it only seemed to depress her. On her petite frame, the curves of her pregnancy began to reveal themselves sooner than they might have on any other woman. Already, her stomach was sufficiently rounded enough to cause her classmates to wonder if she were pregnant, but not large enough that they would dare ask. It would be terribly embarrassing for them and insulting for Buffy if they were wrong. Thankfully, she had final exams on Monday and Tuesday, and then she was done. She had also begun to feel the first flutterings of movement. She had been in the Magic Shop with Dawn when it first happened. She had screamed Giles’ name, and he had knocked over a crystal ball, shattering it in his haste to reach her. He had thought something was wrong, but she had simply snatched his hand and placed it against her belly. “What?” he had asked, clearly concerned. “I can feel the baby moving,” she had replied in awe. “Can’t you feel it?” “No,” he answered quite honestly, but he was content to stand and watch Buffy enjoy the sensations of their child moving inside her. The phone calls continued. Giles wouldn’t tell her who it was or what they were saying, but she always knew when it was one of those calls. He seemed to get more distraught after each one, and would then try and put on a brave face for her. The operator could never give him the number, and the calls never lasted long enough to be traced. But Buffy was beginning to worry for her watcher’s mental health. He had nightmares every night. Only now he wasn’t mumbling about baby strollers and car seats. And a simple cuddle wasn’t enough to quiet his fear. He would wake as she called his name, and kiss her softly, and tell her not to worry. But she did worry. A photo was left on the door every day, five total now. Always left while no one was home. Different photos that Randall had taken: of the five friends in a diner booth, of Giles and Diedre dancing, of just Ethan and Giles, and finally a portrait of Giles dozing in their flat with a book spread over his chest and his boots propped up on chair. Of all the photos, that one reminded Buffy of her Watcher and not the Ripper persona revealed in the others. Each photo came in a plain manila envelope inscribed with the letters, “R.G.” And on the back of each photo were written the words, Why didn’t you come back for me? Giles put them each in the top desk drawer, but sometimes Buffy caught him looking at them when he thought she wasn’t there. Between the photos and the phone calls and the brief time they had to prepare for their new baby and the whole Christmas season besides, Buffy was afraid that Giles was nearing the end of his rope. So four days after the first photograph arrived, Buffy collected her watcher for their second doctor’s appointment, hoping this would lighten his mood. Dr. Michaels had said at their last visit that he would do an ultrasound the next time, and they could learn the sex of the baby if they wished. Buffy hoped, for Giles’s sake, that it was a girl. A daughter would really brighten his mood. Dr. Michaels strolled into the examining room, smiling up at Buffy and Giles. The clinic was mostly empty on a Saturday evening, but given their unique circumstances, that’s how they preferred it. Dr. Jeffery Michaels was one of the best the Council had, and Giles seemed at ease with him, which of course went a long way towards alleviating any misgivings Buffy might have had. He had been granted hospital privileges at Sunnydale and scheduled Buffy for visits once a week the first two weeks, twice a week the third and fourth, and every other day the last week. Today their doctor sat for a while and spoke with them, answering questions. Giles had written a few down on a piece of paper he kept beside The List. Buffy pretty much let Giles ask the questions; he had enough for both of them. Then Dr. Michaels moved on to the ultrasound. He lifted her top and lowered her pants enough to reveal her growing abdomen, and then smeared on the gel. It was their first ultrasound since the trip to the ER. This time they would likely be able to make out features: hands, face, feet. “You two decide if you want to know the sex?” “Yes,” Giles answered. He really wanted to know. Buffy hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed if it was a boy. “Yes, you decided, or yes, you want to know?” “Yes, please tell us,” Giles clarified. The doctor moved the doppler across her stomach, pointing out the different shadows across the screen. “There, the hands, the nose right there, feet.” The doctor smiled. “Look, a boy.” Buffy glanced up quickly to see how Giles was taking the news. He seemed to expect her concern and bent to kiss her quickly on the lips. He smiled. “A boy is fine, Buffy. He’ll still be a part of you, and that’s all that matters.” She felt herself getting teary. Damn hormones. She pulled him down for a longer kiss, and then turned back to look at their son. Dr. Michaels was frowning, moving the instrument across her stomach at various angles. “Buffy, can I get you to roll over on your side?” She exchanged a panicked look with Giles and grabbed his hand. “Is something wrong?” “I don’t know. I’m just trying to get a better view.” Giles helped her scoot over on the bed onto her side. He was still holding her hand, and now stroking her hair as well. The doctor continued manipulating the ultrasound in solemn silence, and Watcher and Slayer could only wait with held breath. “Hmm...” Michaels said, not seeming to be aware of their presence anymore. “A girl.” “You mean you were wrong?” Giles sounded hopeful. “It’s a girl, not a boy.” “No,” the doctor said with a mischievous grin. “I mean one of each.” “Twins?” the parents cried in disbelief. Giles dropped down into the chair he was very fortunate to have waiting behind him. Buffy could feel his hand shaking in hers. The doctor pointed to the screen again. “There’s the second baby’s head, hands. Almost positive it’s a girl. And see, if I angle it just right, see right there, both hearts beating. They’re almost beating in sync. Must be why we never heard the second heartbeat before.” Giles leaned forward against Buffy’s shoulder. She gave his hand a little squeeze. Dr Michaels turned off the machine and wiped the gel from her tummy. “Why don’t I give you both a minute to absorb this before we talk some more?” Giles groaned. “Can you give us back our nine months?” The doctor chuckled as he left their room. “It’s okay, Giles,” Buffy whispered, rolling over on her back to look at him. Her watcher sat up in his chair, his face stricken. He was shaking his head and trembling. “I can’t... Two babies in five weeks... I’m not ready. It’s too much. I can’t... I just can’t do this.” Buffy felt her heart begin to race as she clutched at his jacket. “You’re not leaving me like this, Giles? You can’t leave me!” He met her panicked expression and blinked down at her. “No, no, Buffy, I wouldn’t.” He kissed away her fear. “Never,” he assured her, and then leaned into her again, nuzzling against her neck, wrapping his arms around her. Buffy realized he was asking her to be the strong one for right now, and here she was, just as freaked out as he. “I feel like everything keeps spiraling out of control,” he whispered beside her ear. ”I keep thinking we might have made a big mistake, but it’s too late to take it back. I didn’t think there was enough time for one, but now two. God, Buffy, you have to help me get through this.” “Shhh...” she murmured, stroking his hair softly with one hand. “Breathe, Giles, breathe. We’ll be fine. We can do this. How many apocalypses has it been now? Seven? Twins will be a piece of cake. First thing we do is throw away The List. Whatever gets done before the babies arrive, gets done. Everything else we just let go of. If they have to sleep in laundry baskets the first week, then so be it. Babies don’t really care about fancy cribs and strollers and if they have curtains or wallpaper in their room anyway. It’ll all be okay, really it will. The world won’t end if we bring home two babies instead of one.” She tickled him behind the ear, and he jumped away from her in annoyance. Buffy wondered if he would ever forgive Dawn for letting her in on that little secret. “You gonna be okay now?” He nodded weakly and placed his hand against the bare skin of her rounded stomach. A son and a daughter. “Good,” Buffy said, placing her hand over his. “Cause now it’s my turn to panic.” *** Willow was currently losing to Dawn. Perhaps that was because, in spite of her computing talents, she had never been one for the video games. Maybe it also didn’t help that she had Xander behind her backseat game playing. “No, no, Will, you got to turn it and put it on the blue… no over there by the yellow and the red… See, now you went and messed it up. You could have totally won.” “Shut up, Xander. And Dawn, quick, turn it off. I think Buffy and Giles are home.” Dawn jumped up and collected the Nintendo, shoving it into a box and into the closet. Giles had become irritated with the thing very quickly and as soon as Buffy had been off her bedrest, had threatened to hide it from all of them, so Dawn had hid it first. They quickly arranged themselves around the living room in an innocent tableau and waited for Slayer and Watcher to walk in. The two entered, not really noticing the friends around them, and made their way over to the couch, where they slowly sat in the space that Tara and Anya quickly vacated for them. Willow took in the dazed and defeated expressions on their faces and came to the same conclusion that Xander voiced. “A boy, huh? Tough break, Giles, but on the bright side you can teach him baseball or hockey or any number of other manly sports which you don’t play. Umm… okay, but you could teach him fencing! Fencing is a kind of manly sport, except with the outfits and the… Okay, shutting up now. Willow, wanna help me out?” Willow studied Buffy and Giles for a moment. They looked like their world had just collapsed in on them. “Hey, guys, is everything okay? I mean, it’s a boy, right?” “Yes, a boy,” Giles murmured absently. No one seemed sure what to say, so they all said nothing. A moment later, Buffy startled as if she’d just realized where she was. She added quietly, “A girl.” Now they were all confused. Willow stepped in to clarify the situation. “So which is it? A boy or a girl?” “Both,” Buffy and Giles answered together. Anya frowned. “It’s a boy and a girl? That’s some freaky kid you got growing in there, Buffy. I told you the nine weeks thing couldn’t be good.” Giles spared her a look of irritation. “Twins, Anya, twins.” And then, as if those words had drained all the energy out of him, he leaned back into the couch and rested his head against the top. Willow jumped up. This was huge! “Omigod! Twins? This is sooo cool!” The others joined in her excitement, Dawn climbing on the couch to give her sister a big hug, Xander patting Giles on the back, but Willow held back when she fully processed the expressions on the two parents’ faces. “Umm… guys?” She addressed the other Scoobies. “I was thinking maybe we could help out by making Giles and Buffy dinner tonight.” She motioned them all out of the living room. Anya bounded up, informing them all, “Oh, good. I have a new recipe that I want to try.” Giles managed to rouse himself out of his daze enough to ask Willow, “Please, for the sake of my unborn children, don’t let Anya help with dinner.” He laid his head back against the couch and added, “Anya, dear, you are a lousy cook.” Willow snagged Anya by the arm before she could protest and herded them all into the kitchen. If Giles could no longer find the grace to be tactful, then things really were bad. “Okay, guys,” Willow said as soon as they’d all assembled. “It’s time for some Scoobie action. Giles and Buffy are about to have a nervous breakdown. And we are going to get them everything they want for Christmas.” Xander raised his hand meekly. “Don’t mean to rain on your parade, Will, but with the wedding and Christmas and all, Anya and I are scraping the bottom of the barrel so to speak.” He pulled her up next to his side, and she nodded her agreement. Willow shook her head. “This isn’t a money thing. It’s a time thing. They don’t have time to finish everything. Now there’s ten days until Christmas, and between us we have five pairs of hands. Well, six if we can talk Spike into helping. Let’s see how much we can all get done before then, okay?” Dawn added helpfully, “If we need money, we can take it from the store. Giles won’t mind if it’s for the babies.” She smiled. “Babies,” she said again, as if still getting used to the idea. Willow nodded. “Okay. But it’d be nice if we could make it a surprise.” “Giles never looks at the books,” Anya added helpfully. “He won’t notice if anything’s missing.” “All right,” Willow pronounced, now giving orders. “Dawn, you start making dinner. The rest of us are going to work on strategy. Anyone have a copy of The List?” Three hands shot up in the air, two of them were able to pull copies from their pockets. “Good. Now let’s start at the top.” “How come I have to make dinner?” Dawn complained. Willow scowled at her. Resolve face. “Would you rather I asked Anya to make it?” “All right, all right. I’m going,” Dawn grumbled. While dinner cooked, The List was divided out into five chunks. *** Two days after their ultrasound, Giles could feel movement. They were standing together at the sink, washing dishes, when Buffy grabbed his soapy hand and placed it against her stomach. He dropped the glass in his other hand, and it shattered. But he didn’t even notice. She took his now free hand and placed it against the other side. “You feel that? I think they’re kicking each other. Must be missing, ’cause I’m the one they keep hitting.” “My God, Buffy,” he whispered reverently. “It’s incredible.” Under one hand he could feel his son, under the other his daughter. It was the first time it felt truly real to him. Dawn came jogging into the kitchen. “You guys okay? I heard something break.” She had become almost as protective of her sister as Giles. “Come here, Dawn,” Giles said very softly, and when she had tiptoed around the broken glass to stand next to him, he pulled her between him and her sister and placed her hands beneath his on Buffy’s stomach. “Wow,” Dawn murmured. She leaned back against Giles’ chest, and the three of them just stayed there like that for several moments until the babies stopped moving beneath their hands. When the kicking finally ended, Buffy leaned forward to kiss her sister and then up to kiss Giles. She turned back to finish drying her dishes, but Giles wrapped his arms around Dawn and kissed her on the crown of her hair. The two of them stood together in silent awe until Buffy scolded Giles for falling behind on the washing. Three days before Christmas the Slayerettes sent them both on a romantic weekend getaway. Giles had protested at first, but by the time they convinced him, Buffy was already packed. A little bed and breakfast overlooking the ocean would be just the thing to ease the tension. In the end, he only agreed to two days away because it would be good for Buffy and good for the babies. But as he lay in bed, spooned up behind Buffy, his hand against her stomach, he had to admit that it was good for him too. “Mmmm,” she murmured contentedly, turning her head to face him. “Our first romantic getaway.” He kissed her softly on the cheek, and then nuzzled into her neck. “And our last for quite awhile, I’m afraid.” She frowned and tried to roll over to face him. Five months along with twins, she needed Giles’ help to make it all the way. “Uh-uh,” she insisted. “They have this marvelous new thing called a babysitter.” He chuckled and kissed her softly. He brushed her hair back from her face and asked with a sly grin, “Again?” She laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say my little stevedore’s stolen all my slayer stamina.” “Little?” he protested as he began kissing down her body, across her swollen breasts, over the mound where his son and daughter slept. He trailed his fingers across the curve of her womb, placing a kiss over each child and receiving an answering kick on one side. Maybe not sleeping after all. “Well, hello, little one. Which one are you, I wonder?” Buffy pouted at him. “Forget about them for a minute. Mommy needs attention.” He smiled and continued down her naked body with fingers and lips. When he’d reached her feet, he drew them into his lap and massaged across arch and toes and heel and ankle. Buffy sighed and sank back into the pillows. “Ahh, there’s the stuff. Sweet domestic bliss. I’ll tell you when you can stop.” He massaged up her legs, and then rolled her on her side to knead out all the tension along her back. When he had sufficiently relaxed her, he pulled her into a lingering kiss, his tongue tracing out the contours of her mouth. And then with hands and mouth, he began to restore all of the tension he had so carefully removed. *** Buffy and Giles were holding hands when they approached the front door of their home. The two days had indeed recharged them, and now Giles felt more equipped to deal with everything that lay on the other side of that door. Twins and phone calls and weddings and photos and long dead ghosts. He was perhaps a bit surprised to find all of their friends waiting on the other side of that door as well. “Surprise!” They shouted. Willow bounced forward and pulled them both into the house. “It’s kind of a Christmas Eve baby shower.” Xander stepped forward in front of the redhead and presented Giles a piece of paper, handed over his other arm as a waiter might offer wine. In a bad French accent, he announced, “I present to you, Zee List.” Giles noticed that every item but two had been crossed off. Buffy took The List from her friend and scanned down its length. “All that’s left is baby names and… and a car. A car? Giles, why do we need a new car?” “My car can hardly fit two baby seats and the three of us. Not comfortably at least.” “Awww,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You’re getting rid of the Beemer for me. That’s so sweet.” “Not sweet, Buffy. Just practical.” But their friends were eager to show them the results of their efforts, and quickly pulled them into a tour. Xander pointed out the latches at the tops of the closet doors, just low enough for Buffy to reach, but far too high for any child. Willow showed them the sliding gates at the tops and bottoms of each staircase. Childproof latches on all the cupboards. Covers over all the electrical outlets. Two car seats waiting in the garage. Xander had put up shelving along the walls of the garage, and every potentially hazardous item had its place on them. A separate, locked shed beside the garage for the lawnmower and power tools. They continued through the house. Xander showed them the sturdy bracketing he had installed on the bookcases and cabinets throughout the house, so that the children could practically climb them without bringing any furniture down on top of themselves. He demonstrated by scaling one bookcase himself. He jumped down when he noticed Giles frown. The bathroom was childproofed as well. Even a lock on the toilet lid. “That will be irritating,” Giles commented. “Yeah,” Xander agreed. “But I made up for it with this.” He opened the shower curtain with a flourish and a ta-da. Dual showerheads, one on each side. “I figured as long as I had my crew in here to add the shower hose for easier baby-bathing, well it wasn’t much more work to add in a little bonus for mommy and daddy.” Giles blushed and looked away. “Yes, well… that was… thoughtful. You had your crew in here, Xander?” He shrugged. “A few of the guys were willing to help out on their own time. It was fun. But that’s why we needed you two out of the house.” “Come on,” Dawn insisted, pulling on Buffy and Giles’ hands. “You have to see the nursery.” The nursery was perhaps the most impressive accomplishment. New paint, new carpet, but aired out enough that Giles didn’t need to worry about Buffy inhaling the fumes. The gang must have worked on this first. Two cribs sat on either side of the room, mobiles hanging over them. A changing table against one wall. A rich, mahogany rocking chair pulled up beneath the window. Buffy sat in this right away, appearing to admire the smooth sway as it rocked. She smiled. A tall chest of drawers took the space between the closet and the door. Giles opened a few drawers and found them full. Boy’s clothes on one side, girl’s on the other. “Oooh!” Willow called as she sidled up next to Giles and opened the bottom drawer. “I saw this and just couldn’t resist!” She pulled out a little tweed suit, with tie and vest and everything. “See, little mini-Giles!” He gave her a kind smile and squeezed her shoulder in affection. He moved on to look in the closet. It was full of games and stuffed animals. A double baby stroller was pulled into one corner. He turned around again, looking up at the wallpaper border running across the top of the wall and meeting the blue sky and cloud painted ceiling. Fluffy little white sheep danced across the wallpaper, matching the curtains that hung from the window. Anya stepped up beside him. “I insisted on the sheep. Willow and Dawn wanted bunnies. But who would be mean enough to give a kid those nightmares?” Giles startled Anya with a warm embrace, patting her on the back. “It’s perfect. It’s all perfect. But expensive. I hope you didn’t spend your own money.” “We took it from the store,” Willow said reluctantly. “Good,” was Giles’ only response. Willow continued on in excitement. “But I think we got everything done on The List, and more besides. Look, even packed a suitcase for the hospital.” She held it up to show him. “You’re all set to bring the babies home today if you had to.” “No, no,” Giles insisted. “A month will be soon enough.” Tara spoke up and informed him that, “Willow and I set up protection spells around the nursery and the house. If anyone tried anything, they’d get a pretty good jolt.” Giles gave the shy young witch a hug as well. Buffy was still sitting in the rocking chair, and now she was crying. “You guys are all like the best.” *** Christmas Day started out perfect. It didn’t quite end that way. The Scoobies didn’t begin their celebration until Willow and Xander had returned from obligatory appearances at their own family gatherings. Dawn could barely wait for them to return, reminding Buffy of childhood Christmases when her sister would wake her at the crack of dawn. “Can I be Santa and hand out the presents?” “Sure, Dawn, go ahead.” Buffy settled back against Giles’ chest, her back achy, her feet sore. Mostly she was just tired. Giles slid his hand against her stomach, and then glanced down with a small smile. “Babies moving a lot?” “All the time,” she groaned. “I swear they take turns sleeping.” He bent and placed a kiss on her forehead. “That doesn’t bode well for us after they’re born.” Dawn handed out presents one by one. She got to an envelope that had no label. “Who’s this for?” Giles nodded to the engaged couple sitting next to the tree. “Xander and Anya. It’s a Christmas and wedding present.” Buffy studied her watcher’s face. He was holding out on her. He hadn’t mentioned anything about a Christmas slash wedding present. Anya took it gleefully. “Let me open it.” She ripped open the envelope and frowned. “What’s this? A couple pieces of paper with computer printing on it? I thought there would be money.” She sounded disappointed. But Xander’s eyes had gone wide. He leaned over her shoulder and read the printing. He snatched the gift from her hands. “An, honey, these are airline tickets.” He fumbled through the papers. “And a seven day cruise in the Caribbean. Oh. My. God. Giles, this is too much.” Buffy turned astonished eyes to her watcher, and he glanced away, seemingly embarrassed. “Nonsense,” he assured Xander. “You two deserve a decent honeymoon. Think of it as Anya’s Christmas bonus if you must. I’ve already given her the week off.” “I don’t know what to say.” Xander was still staring at the tickets. “Thank you.” Anya, however, had raced across the room to give Giles an enthusiastic hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Xander and I can have sex on the beach. It will be very romantic.” “Yes, well…” Giles stammered. “Just keep the details to yourselves and that will be thanks enough.” Anya returned to her fiancé’s side. Buffy leaned over to give her lover a proud kiss on the other cheek. Sometimes he could still surprise her. “Dawn,” she said. “Find Giles’ present from me.” Dawn rummaged through the packages under the tree until she found a small wrapped box with Giles’ name on it. “I think this is it.” Buffy watched in anticipation as he carefully undid the tape and wrapping. “For God’s sake, just rip the damn stuff,” she exclaimed as she helped him do just that. She looked at the box in puzzlement for a moment. She could have sworn they had given it to her in a jeweler’s box. Oh, well, perhaps the mall giftwrappers had put it in another box. A jewelry box would have been a dead give away. “Open it already.” He lifted the lid, and the smile left his face. Buffy didn’t recognize what it was, but it was definitely not his pocketwatch. Giles lifted a silver talisman from the box. It looked like a paperweight, forged in the shape of a half-closed eye. His hands were shaking. At the bottom of the box rested a piece of paper, asking him, Why didn’t you come back for me? “What is it?” Buffy demanded. Giles replaced it in the box and closed the lid. “It’s a charm we used to summon Eyghon.” He rose and placed the item in the desk drawer with the photos. “Ok, Giles, someone was in our house. They put that under our tree. We need to figure out what’s going on.” “Let me handle this,” he said firmly. “I don’t see you handling it. I see you ignoring it.” She stood to face him. It might have been a little more intimidating if it hadn’t taken her two tries to get off the couch. Would she ever get used to the shift in her center of gravity? “Giles, you have to let us help.” “No,” he practically shouted, and then a little more calmly, “Buffy, please, don’t think about it. I’ve been in contact with some friends in the Council, and I’ve been doing some research on my own. I’ll take care of it. Now, let’s not ruin everyone’s day. Come on, then, there are still presents to open.” He settled on the couch, and drew her back down to sit next to him. He returned to his previous good cheer, but Buffy could see the fear beneath his brave face. She laid her head against his shoulder and prayed that nothing bad would happen before she could regain her slaying powers. Then she would be able to protect him again. And their children. Presents were followed by a holiday meal. A houseful of happy friends and joking and laughter, and Buffy was almost able to put the strange occurrences out of her mind. Sometimes she would catch Giles sneaking a glance in the direction of the desk drawer, and she would remember again. But it wasn’t until after the table was cleared, the dishes were done, and Buffy had snuck out to the kitchen to snack on leftovers, that things really fell apart. Giles had followed her out of the living room, teasing her that eating for three was just a saying and not meant to be taken literally, even as he made her tea and cut up pickles for her leftover turkey sandwich. Before they could return to the movie playing in the living room, Dawn stopped them in the kitchen doorway, looking panicked. “Buffy, you and Giles have to leave now. Out the back door and don’t come back until later. Much, much later.” She started pushing them each back towards the door. “Dawn, what is this about?” Giles sounded both concerned and irritated. But she addressed her answer to Buffy. “Dad and Susan are here.” “What?” She handed Giles her plate of food and took Dawn by the shoulders. “That’s not funny.” Hank’s voice confirmed her worst fears. “Buffy, honey, where are you?” Oh, no, he was headed their way. Buffy stepped behind the kitchen island quickly, letting the counter shield her growing stomach. She pleaded with Giles, giving him her most panicked expression, “I haven’t told him yet.” “What?” Giles joined her beside the island, setting the food down. “Well there just didn’t seem to be the right time. I tried calling a couple times, but… It just seemed too hard to do over the phone.” “Yes, of course,” Giles replied sarcastically. “Telling your father while he was thousands of miles away and would have time to cool off before I would have to see him in a houseful of weapons would have been terribly difficult for you. I’m so very glad you decided on this method. Letting him just show up at our door was truly the wisest choice.” “I didn’t know he was coming for Christmas. I didn’t think he would be back in the States until their wedding.” Giles shook his head ruefully. “Any bets on whether he uses a sword, a crossbow, or the gun?” Any further argument was cut short when Hank entered the kitchen. “There you are.” Buffy gave him her best fake smile. She pressed herself as close to the counter as her stomach would allow. Maybe he wouldn’t notice if she stayed here like this all night. Maybe she could do like they did on TV, when the actresses were pregnant and their characters were not. She could always be holding something in front of her stomach, a few well placed potted trees… Yeah, that could work. Her father frowned when he saw Giles, but he focused his gaze instead on Buffy. “Come on, sweetheart, I haven’t seen you in six months.” Five and a half months. Yeah, that was about right. How would she explain the over seven months at his wedding? “What’s the matter, honey?” Hank said, his arms outstretched. “Getting too old to give your dad a hug hello?” Dawn stifled a giggle. “Yeah, she’s getting too big to give you a hug.” “Dawn!” Buffy gave her sister a warning glare. “Go back and finish your movie.” She sighed and slipped her hand in Giles’ behind the counter. He gave it a little squeeze. “Dad, maybe you should have a seat. We need to talk.” ***
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