October 2005
“You’re not gay.”
“Not so you’d notice.”
Except now they’re pretty much all going to notice. And notice what an idiot you are. You think you’re so smart, that you can hide from them all, that wherever you hide they’ll never find you…
Welcome to Paris.
“Plum?” Satsu glances down at the bowl and then at your stomach, “Can you balance stuff on there?”
“Dunno.” Which isn’t really true- you’ve been practicing balancing stuff on there for weeks now. “Wanna try?”
She leans over the picnic basket that’s set between you and slowly lowers the bowl onto the shelf that’s rapidly developing under your breasts. “Huh, look at that. It does.” You smile at how genuinely intellectually interested Satsu is in her little experiment.
Life would be a lot easier if you were in love with Satsu- plus she could give you hair care tips because damn that’s good hair!
But no; you’re the dumbass who went and fell for the first attractive slayer she saw. And then messed around with magic so she could have the other girl’s baby without even telling her.
It’s generally the second part that makes you seem so stupid.
Your friends think you and Satsu have run off together for a romantic life of small-time demons and really good food. Great food actually- once you got over the morning sickness part. All they know is that the two of you are somewhere in Europe which, contrary to whatever the map says, is actually a really big place.
Ok, so Paris isn’t the most original destination but you’re betting they’ll think it’s too obvious and won’t look. Willow could find you in a heartbeat but you know her, she probably thinks you’re just taking a break (that and it’s ultra-romantic).
Satsu immediately agreed to help you once you told her the situation- even if she did call you an idiot about a thousand times first. She’s sweet, beautiful, carries your bags and even smells great! You think that if you ever get your hands on that book again you’re going to make the next one Satsu’s baby.
Oh god, you’ve got baby fever… The other day you walked down a street and considered having babies with every other person you saw! You love the one that’s already in you but you’re just a little scared; is Baby Slayer going to be like you? Or Faith?
Please God, not like Faith.
The week before you left she hit you. Well, not ‘you’, she had no idea who you really were- just some stranger in her room. You’d brushed it off because she’d been startled awake when you knocked the vase off the wardrobe. She apologised as soon as she realised what she’d done. But it’s the half-hour in between that scares you.
You can’t raise a child with her… can you?
Just thinking about it makes you a little scared and hopeful at the same time. You imagine Faith with the baby in her arms and it makes your chest constrict to see her look all the more beautiful for the care she takes with the tiny life. Faith isn’t the type to wear a dress and apron but you can just see her rolling around in the leaves with a toddler and a puppy, and teaching Toddler Slayer to ride a bike (that bit is really just your imagination- Faith has never been on a bike… well, one you peddle anyway).
If this were a ‘normal’ relationship (you and some guy) then the fact you slept with Satsu again (in this fantasy, a male Satsu) a week before you impregnated yourself would be of huge consequence. You could claim that the baby was actually hers and never have to speak to Faith again.
Damn you and your lesbian tendencies!
Of course, the baby wouldn’t look in any way Asian- which might be a problem.
That, and you feel like any minute your heart is going to stick out a sign saying ‘Fuck off, I beat for Faith, not you’.
“Did Akira call you back?”
“Akira.”
“That’s what I said.”
She visibly resists the temptation to roll her eyes. “No, you said ‘uh-KEER-uh’, like ‘sha-KEER-uh’.”
Why do people keep getting at you about pronunciation? It was ok when it was just Giles because you were in America and he was the odd one out but all those stupid Scottish people need to get a life and stop laughing at you! You’re speaking English, they’re speaking English (at least, you think they are…), and can’t they just give you bonus points for trying?
At least now you’re in France no one expects you to be able to pronounce things. Plus Satsu is doing way worse than you! It’s brilliant.
“Ok, how am I supposed to say it?”
“AH-kee-DA”
What the hell? There’s a ‘d’ in there now? “Uh-ke-duh.”
“Never mind.”
“Oh God,” You sigh, “I would so not have hired him if I knew his stupid name was gonna be this hard!”
“Did you hire him? I thought Watchers were… chosen.”
“Do I need to give you the ‘one girl in all the world except now there aren’t’ speech again?”
“No, I get it.” She smiles, “Besides, Akira is still sending me Watcher-y texts every day.”
Confusing name or not you have to give him points for dedication. “Because he hasn’t clued in yet?”
“Oh no, he knows I’m not really chasing those demons- mainly because you made them up- but he’s being a good pseudo-parent and living in denial.”
“How nice of him.”
Satsu nods absentmindedly as she pulls out a few Tupperware containers from the stuffed hamper and starts piling things on plates. “He hasn’t called yet though.” She pauses, probably deciding on whether or not to ask about Faith. “Have you…?”
Does she have to ask every day? “No! No, I haven’t called her!”
She pulls back, surprised by your angry tone. “Sorry! I… know you’re trying not to think about her.”
“Well I’m currently thinking about not thinking about Faith.”
Faith doesn’t have to know though, right?
Because you haven’t even spoken to her since… April. The morning after she hit you she watched from her bed as you struggled into your jeans. ‘Too many pies’ apparently. ‘Baby shaped pies’, you’d wanted to retort, except you didn’t actually want her know after the punching thing. There’s a whole lots of truth fudging going on. Number of people currently aware of Baby Slayer’s existence; two.
That’s fine though, right? She doesn’t exactly need any more people… she could live in a big pink room all by herself and only see the two of you… unless she’s a tomboy! Satsu might be a lesbian but she’s girlier than Andrew and you’re… ok, you’re worse. You don’t know anything about sports! Or dungarees! Or… what else do tomboys like? Oh! You can French braid! Tomboys wear French braids, right?
“You’d so better be girlie.”
“What?” Satsu looks up, assuming you’re talking to her.
“Nothing, nothing, just… you know, talking to the baby.”
“Ah, that’s supposed to be very good for her.”
She studies your stomach critically. Satsu probably wanted to be a doctor before she was called- she’s the only one who actually pays attention to your obstetrician. “Go ahead, you can talk too.”
The plates and bowls pushed to one side, Satsu lies down on her front, perched mere centimetres from your belly button. You’re not entirely sure what you expect her to say… something along the lines of cooing baby talk or an intelligent nugget of information (She reads the baby books- you looked at a diagram once and freaked!) but what eventually comes out of her mouth is actually in Japanese so you have no way of knowing.
“I don’t think she understands anything but English.”
Plucking a strawberry from the tub she grins up at you, “I don’t think she understands any language!”
You watch, rapt, as she slides the fruit between her lips, sucking the sugar off. A tiny trail of juice slips down her chin as she bites in, then giggles and wipes it with the back of her hand.
Suddenly it’s hard to look away.
“Oh hell…”
“Hmm?” She licks her fingers and your stomach churns.
“Nothing!”
This is so not good. Ok so she’s got amazing hair and smells like… heaven or… some kind of fresh-baked-doughy-goodness but jumping her in the middle of this field with all the pretty scenery and the… children… probably isn’t the best way to do it.
There have been many people in your life that you’ve wished you were in love with but Satsu tops the pile. When she gazes at you supposedly-surreptitiously your heart aches… but only because it doesn’t.
Yet you’re genuinely sure that, aside from the whole ‘in love’ part, the two of you actually have the makings of a pretty good relationship; you love her as a person, you think she’d made a better mother than you, you can imagine a future with her and… and by God that girl is far hotter than she has rights to be!
Recently it seems like the tiniest things about her are turning you on!
Maybe it’s just because she was the last person you slept with…? It’s been an awfully long time. Besides, you can’t be blamed- you’re pregnant! In France it’s legal to kill someone if you’re with child. At least, you think it is… that might be one of those urban myths. You’re not exactly going to try it out but it’s still good to know, a safety net of sorts!
“Are you regretting your choice of co-parent now?”
“Now?” You snort.
Satsu flushes, “That was rude, wasn’t it? Sorry. I just meant… not many people actually get the choice of ‘anyone in the world’ to have a child with. Why not pick someone very attractive like Brad Pitt or intelligent such as… Einstein.”
“Pretty sure you can’t have a kid with a dead person.”
“Pretty sure you can’t have a kid with another woman!” Satsu passes across a plate of tuna and cucumber sandwiches to soften her tone.
“Touché.”
“I just think… if you’re not even going to tell Faith… you shouldn’t have gone on a whim, there are so many options!”
That’s not entirely true- Baby Slayer wasn’t a ‘whim’ or some kind of odd flight of fancy, there was thought… a whole week of thought! Ok, five days. That’s a working week though, right?
You were stood on a balcony in a Miami club, watching nervously as Faith faught in the alley below to reason with a disillusioned slayer, and at the same time ignoring Angel, pacing behind you and looking annoyingly hot.
“I know her Buffy, I know her pain.”
Or maybe just annoying. “Are you not dead yet?”
He sighed, weighing your shoulder down with a paw-like hand, “You’re not right for her, she-”
“Oh right, right!” You snarked sarcastically, pushing him back from where he’d been leaning over to watch her, “This is all about how I’m not right for her, nothing to do with you thinking she’s not right for me!”
It would be a lie to say you weren’t hoping he was just a little bit jealous. He’s still the first guy you ever fell in love with, and it boosts a girl’s ego! But there’s flattering and then there’s just plain stalking.
“You need to get a life.”
“And you need to get out of hers. She’s been worse since you got here.”
“I didn’t even know she was going to be here!”
You’d flown in the day before, following a tip off from Xander’s ‘non-girlfriend’ (a huge Amazon of a woman with bright blue skin) about an abnormally strong young girl mugging people on the streets of downtown Miami.
In truth you could have sent on of your subordinates but you really, really needed the holiday.
“You could have left once you knew.”
And what the hell kind of an argument was that? “We’re friends. Occasionally friends are actually nice and want to spend time with each other.”
He sighed unnecessary breath, pressing his hands down to the front of his shirt. His voice was calm and collected, meant to highlight just how ‘irrational’ you were being. “You’re making her worse by being here.”
“What?!” You snorted. “Oh please, when I arrived she had something suspiciously unlike baby powder up her nose and I’m pretty sure it was you she was spending all the time with then.”
You had punctuated your last word with a jab to his chest. His skin had been so infuriatingly cool while you were soaked in sweat (not particularly attractive) it just made you angrier. The desire to rest your heated brow against his soothing skin was only slightly less than your complete and utter yearning to rip his head off.
“You know, you all do this; You, Giles, Xander, Kennedy- you all act like it’s my fault when she goes south. Well you guys are the biggest fucking bunch of enablers ever!” He jumped as you swore and looked to check if the girls in the alley below had noticed your row, luckily the pumping music was too loud, even for slayer hearing, to pick anything out. “If it’s not Kennedy getting her drunk on shots then it’s you lecturing her about how she has to try harder, how it’s all on her to atone, how she’ll never be clean- she’s only human! Stop putting all this goddamn pressure on her!” Angel sighed again, taking a breath to speak, “And stop blaming me!”
“I’m not blaming you, I’m just-”
“Blaming me?”
And maybe it was the talk of baby powder or maybe it was just that when she finally called you down to the street you could smell Angel on her and the desire to crush yourself to her, force harsh breath across her skin as if to sear off the smell of him was so strong… you just wanted a piece of her, a little something that no one else had.
You wanted to tear off her clothes, scrub at her with rough salt and a harsh brush, scour off all the other people and the crazy until it was just her. Until it was just your girl again; your girl who could so easily pass for Italian, loved the language and the customs, threw her arms about when she spoke and lovingly smothered everyone in kisses. They adored her as you did and she felt that love to her very core.
A core now covered in the dirt of America, the grime of poverty and perversion, where she doesn’t have to try hard to understand what people ask because it’s always sex. Always. And she won’t ever say no.
“Buffy?”
“What?” You shake yourself back to the here and now, the warm sun and the bright flowers in the green grass. “Sorry, spazzing.”
“Thinking about her again?”
Nodding guiltily you pick up a pastry from the pile. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?”
Satsu smiles radiantly and says she doesn’t mind. God, how you wish she minded. Maybe if she was fiery and unreasonable about it- left you in the dirt until you renounced Faith, punched someone, refused to hold back your hair when you puked due to morning sickness from someone else’s kid- you could start to love her.
Dear God, you’re twisted! Forget about Faith, you’re the one in this relationship with real issues! Poor Baby Slayer, there’s no way she’s coming out normal.
“Could you pass the newspaper please? It’s on the other side of that mountain you’ve attached yourself to.” Satsu makes an ‘over’ motion and tries to peek around your stomach. You roll your eyes and throw the damn thing at her. Neither of you can actually read French but it’s free and she likes to use it as a conversation piece- meaning when she wants to talk to you about something important (Faith) she’ll only do it from behind newsprint. Apparently it’s a habit she picked up from the father she never talks about.
Why do slayers never have proper father figures?
“The Euro’s gone up again… or maybe the Dollar’s gone down, it’s a little hard to tell without the text.”
You shrug and reach for another tuna sandwich, “Hey, I’m just impressed you know what the numbers mean!”
“Buffy,” She chuckles, “The numbers are the same as English.”
“Oh. Bollocks.”
The two of you have been attempting to learn different languages to broaden Baby S’s horizons. So far you have progressed into English swear words. “Nice. That’s really coming along…”
You wait as she pauses, obviously about to get to what it is that’s really concerning her.
“You know, I’d make a pretty bad mother anyway, I’m only just twenty.”
“What have I told you about mentioning how close in age you are to my sister?”
“Uh…” She searches for the answer, “Don’t?”
“Exactly.”
Yes, it’s a little irrational, and it’s not like Dawn is your child or anything- that would be a weird age gap. It’s just that Satsu and Dawn could be in the same school year and that is just… actually, come to think of it, how do twins ever date? You’d have the same birthday so obviously they’d be close in age to your sibling… or does that not apply? Or does it mean you just have to be involved in relationships with really big age gaps? Or short ones? And does it not count if you were born one either side of midnight?
And when did you become so weird and illogical? Is this normal? “When do the pregnancy thingies kick in?”
Satsu glances at you oddly over the top of the paper, “Buffy, two days ago you stabbed my hand with a fork because I can’t make the eggs like Faith does.” She holds said hand up for inspection, “I think it’s safe to say you have raging hormones.”
“Damn you.”
She makes one of those little agreeing noises parents do when they’re not really listening and you’re slightly creeped out by how very brilliant she is quickly becoming at being an adult.
“I think you’ll be a great mother.”
“Uh, ‘would’, Buff. The word is ‘would’ or ‘you’d’.” Satsu itches her neck uncomfortably, staring hard enough at the paper to burn a hole through it. “I am not actually your child’s parent.”
You try to ignore how cute her accent is when she’s flustered, “You could be.”
“No, I do… not believe that’s possible. We don’t have a time machine.”
“I meant-” You pause to think about what it is you actually meant. Are you really asking this? It’s… a pretty big step. “I meant-”
“I am aware of what you meant, I am just being obtuse.” She puts down the paper, her hand slow yet deliberate. When she turns to look at you her eyes are chastising and… disappointed. “What about Faith? Faith is your baby’s parent too.”
The hair on the back of your neck begins to rise and goose pimples spread over your arms. She’s angry. “Faith- Faith is probably the first person to admit she’s not exactly ‘mother’ material. You’re… you’re such a lovely girl and- and you have a good family! I know I only spoke to your mother over the phone and your father… just kind of yelled in Japanese… but- but I really think this could work!”
“No,” She shakes her head, “It couldn’t. You’re just acting this way because… well actually, I don’t really know why just that- Faith loves you. And yes, I love you too, but I swear I didn’t even properly know what it was until I saw her looking at you. You’re everything to her and if you’d just give her the chance she’d be the perfect mother for your child. She worships you.”
Again with the worshiping. Why is it that every guy-slash-girl-slash-undead-being who shares a heat and a passion with you eventually just falls in love? Maybe sometimes you don’t want to be revered- being put on a pedestal just means further to fall.
“I’ve seen the way you are around her Buffy. You love her too. Completely. And even though I wish it were me you felt that for… it isn’t- and it won’t ever be. Because you will never love anyone as- Oh crap.”
“Huh?”
Satsu laughs sadly and shakes her head. “I was hoping I would get to finish my ‘movie speech’ but I suppose the universe has other plans.”
“Huh?”
Her eyes are unfocused, looking far off into the distance and you spin round to see what it is that has so caught her attention. Your mouth drops open.
On the crest of the hill behind you stands a tall, slim figure in dark jeans and a bikini top. As she turns towards you the sunlight catches the faint outline of wings on her stomach and for a second they almost look real.
“So, Andrew was right about the Slayer Bond.”
You want to twist back, tell Satsu it’s not true, that you can’t really feel when the other is hurt or find each other half way across the world. But that might just be wrong.
“Hey B. Long time no see”
All the moisture leaves your mouth until it’s sticky and dry and you can barely croak out, “H- how did you find me?”
“Pined a map of the world to the wall and threw a stake at it.” You smile at the twinkle in her eye.
“And that often works for you?”
“This would be the first time.” Faith chuckles self-deprecatingly, fiddling with the ends of her long plaits. “Russia’s a big place, you know that? A real big place. A place you are not in. Obviously”
Your throat catches, caught between giggling and sighing in relief.
“I missed you.”
Satsu shuffles uncomfortably as she watches the two of you caught in a staring contest, a slight grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Faith? I think I’m… kind of… You know what? I’m going to get some more baguettes, you two stay here and try not to get arrested for public indecency.”
You smile graciously at Satsu and try to resist the urge to apologise. In contrast, Faith barely seems to notice, her eyes are so fixed on you. Yet she moves, plops down onto the rug next to you and… sticks a straw in her mouth.
She chuckles as you stare at her oddly as she takes a pretend puff and blows imaginary smoke out the side of her mouth. “What?” She shrugs, “Even I’m not evil enough to smoke in front of a pregnant woman.”
It almost crosses your mind to ask her how she knows before realising that was a conversation for five months ago and by now astronauts probably even know you’re pregnant.
“So, at least now I know why you ran away.”
“I didn’t…” You flush, realising that was exactly what you did. “I just thought you’d…”
Leave? Hate you? Go crazy and beat up every single person in her path?
Getting yourself pregnant was a stupid, stupid thing to have done but now there’s a tiny person inside you and you don’t want to risk ever letting her go. Not that you think Faith is going to take her or anything but what if she doesn’t want her at all? What if Faith rejects her daughter just the way your father rejected his? And, oh God, crying is so not what you wanted to be doing right now! Stupid hormones!
“Aw, you big dork!” Faith turns over onto her knees and then stretches across the food to pull you into a hug… or what would be a nice hug if not for your stomach. Still, it’s kind of cool for your skin to have a bigger surface area, more Faith touching for your money!
And, oh wow, that bikini really doesn’t cover anything!
“I’m not gonna stop bein’ ya friend just ‘cos you got knocked up!” She blows imaginary smoke away from you to make you laugh, “Just as long as you don’t expect me t’ start bein’ interested in baby booties or some shit, k?”
“That’s… comforting…” Where the hell did Satsu go? She can ask for baby clothes in five different, surprisingly useless in France, languages.
“Besides,” She kisses your temple and sits back, “It’s been two years, B. I’ve got no right to get mad at you for moving on.”
You could just leave it there, you could just thank her and go home with her and then spend the rest of your life hiding your daughter’s ‘non-Summers’ traits. But no, instead you find yourself yelling, “I haven’t!” before you even have time to think what might just be a very viable option through.
“What?”
“I haven’t moved on. I- I still love you.”
Like Satsu a few moments ago she slows right down, ignoring you for the moment as she calmly pulls out her hair ties and uses her fingers to comb out her plaits. “You know, you’ve never said that before.”
“Sure I have.” Of course you have!
“No, you really haven’t.”
“Oh.”
Really?
Damn.
“Buff, you…” She sighs, still fiddling with her hair but in an annoyed way rather than a shy one. It’s so long it almost covers her entire front… and that amazingly small bikini. “You can’t just reject me for months and then suddenly decide you love me because you’ve… I dunno, finally found someone to make you settle down.”
Settle down? You’ve spent the last however many months travelling from country to country half-hoping she’ll find you and scared she will. There’s never been anyone else and there never- hold on! “Reject you? When did I ever reject you? I’ve been dropping hints- anvil-sized hints for months! I threw myself at you! Occasionally literally! You’re the one who was all ‘lets be friends’!”
“As if!” She scoffs, “I’d never just… you- you’re the one who messed it up! You finished it.”
“Because you were screwing other people!” And weren’t you both supposed to be talking about what’s happened since then?
Faith gapes like a fish for a few moments before getting that scary shark look in her eye, the one that means she’s going to shove you in a corner and do something really, really bad… or good, depending on your penchant. “Well I wouldn’t have had to if you just put out once in a while.” She smirks, “Prude.” So it’s down to name-calling?
“I don’t think you should be passing judgement here Little Miss Unstable- I’m not the one riding the white pony.”
Faith grins around a cherry, “Dude, you’re the one with the commitment issues.”
“Wha-! I don’t have-! You-! You’re the one who beat up Xander.”
“He grabbed your ass!”
“He was drunk! At least I tried to make compromises, you didn’t change a thing.”
“You didn’t try! I’m the one who grew my hair so stupidly long just because you once said you liked Lara Croft!”
“Aw, really?” You reach over to twirl a curl around your finger. It’s long enough for her to sit on and half of it in pre-Raphaelite curls. “That’s so sweet… hey! Hold on here! I dressed up all sexy for you! I’m having y-uh… uh… Never mind, you win.” Way to act totally unsuspicious! You never give up on arguments. Ever.
“Uh-huh.”
Baby Slayer takes note of the sudden quiet and your decreasing blood pressure to turn over. “Uh!” You grab your stomach and try to twist into a more comfortable position.
“Oh my God!” Faith jumps, eyes darting up and down your body then around, “Are you ok? Do you need something? Should I go find Shitsu?”
“What happened to ‘Sushi’?”
“Huh?”
“I thought you were calling her ‘Sushi’?”
She tips her head on the side, wondering whether or not she has the time to talk about this, “Oh. I was. Now, do I need to take you to the hospital? Or- or, get fresh towels or warm water or- trust you to go into labour in the middle of a field!” Breathe Faith, breathe.
It’s so funny you almost get hiccups laughing, “I’m not going into labour! It’s fine, she just turned over, and she does that a lot. Besides, I’ve got another three weeks to go.”
Faith curses loudly, a long string of expletives until she’s totally calm. “That’s a relief. I didn’t know what I was gonna do, you know? I’ve never actually been this close to a pregnant woman. Pregnant man, sure, but not a woman.” You laugh and she winks, “Besides, I wouldn’ta known who to call at the hospital- unless you have his name under ‘baby daddy’ in ya phone. Obviously.” Oh God, Baby Slayer is so going to have her dimples; you can just see it coming. Unless… you could always claim that there was a guy who looked exactly like Faith and that was why you wanted him?
“Yeah…” You chuckle without mirth, “About that… She doesn’t exactly have a daddy. Just mommies, uh ‘mamas’. Plural.”
Her eyes shoot up, “Wow, never would have guessed the kid had it in her. So, is it like some kind of magic thing…?”
“Pretty much.” The thought crosses your mind to just leave it there- it’s not like she flat out asked if Satsu is your child’s other parent, she just assumed. ‘Ask no questions and I’ll tell you no lies’ and all that. Or is it ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’? Isn’t that the thing from the military? “Actually… Satsu isn’t… involved.” You take a deep breath, “It’s you. You’re the… other… mommy. Mama. Mother. Parent.” You cringe as her brain almost visibly implodes, “You know what, I’ll let you choose your own name.”
“Oh believe me,” She chokes out, “It’s not the name thing I’m having problems with.”
Perhaps telling her wasn’t the best option? Perhaps you should have just left it? Now everything’s going to be all messed up and she’ll think you’re an idiot for making this so damn complicated!
You like to simplify everything in your private life (or at least, you would like to simplify everything- it never seems to turn out that way) after all ‘work’ seems to take up ninety percent of your time and it’s so… who thought that giving little girls power was a good idea? You’ve been playing God since you were fifteen; deciding what was wrong and who deserved to die as if you actually had the right.
“You know what would be nice? If we were still normal teenage girls and our biggest problem was that we’d kissed once in a hot tub and you made me have all these funny feelings so I was actually really pleased when you got sent away to boarding school except it wasn’t really boarding school it was more like a-”
“What in sweet hell are you talking about?”
“Sorry. I bought the whole set of Gossip Girl books at the airport.”
“You can read?”
“I know, that was Satsu’s first thought too. Our kid doesn’t have a very strong gene pool.”
She nods, staring off into the distance, trying to figure something out. “How did this even happen?”
Oh God.
That talk.
“You know those books Giles always said we weren’t to look at? Turns out there’s a reason.”
Faith snorts in amusement, “So what, you were thinking about me and touched one of ‘em?” You know, oddly, that makes a hell of a lot more sense than what actually happened.
“No, they’re just full of very effective spells I might want to use.”
When Giles finds out and eventually asks what happened- which is going to happen now Faith knows, the girl can’t keep little secrets never mind big ones- you’re working on the lie that your curiosity got the better of you, you read a book and accidentally mumbled some words and ‘poof’; baby! Because that is a whole lot less weird.
“Faith?” She pulls her head up from where it was buried in the picnic hamper and gives you a little half-hearted smile. “I know that it wasn’t exactly the right time for this to happen but I wanted… I wanted it to be you. I wanted to have your baby- meaning, of course, that I want to have your baby. That’s… helpful when you’re pregnant.”
You pluck the grape from her shaking fingers, hovering just next to her lips.
“It might not be the ortha… orth… ortho… orthopaedic? All I’m getting here is ‘orthopaedic’.”
“Orthodox?” She chuckles, “Certainly not orthodox…”
“Right, not the orthodox way- but it feels like the right way.”
“Really? You and me? In an always way?” She laughs, little chuckles at first, building up to big guffaws. Even a pointed glare doesn’t shut her up, despite her valiant effort to hush the chortling with handfuls of grapes. “I’m sorry,” You wince as she talks around her mouthful, not even the two tiny scraps of fabric on her front can make that attractive, “It’s just, you’re like… the anti-me.”
Rude much?! “I just said I love you!”
“No, it- it means ‘different’ or… ‘Opposite’. We’re opposites.”
Oh. “Like yin/yang?” You ask hopefully.
Faith laughs, obviously not having thought of it that way. “I guess so.”
“Lets just hope two halves make a whole and she gets your heart and my…” The words stumble. It’s so hard to think of something. Or, at least, something not insulting. How do you speak of something you have and she doesn’t? What is that anyway?
Sanity? “Head?” She suggests.
You chuckle silently, amused at the thoughts you share.
“Me too. Oh! Maybe our stubbornness will cancel each other out and she’ll be all calm and sweet?” Ha! As if!
“‘Sweet’?”
She shrugs, “A girl can dream.” The bowls already pushed to the side she slides closer, her hand unconsciously grips your knee as she grins excitedly, “What else do you think she’ll get?”
“I like this game! Ok, uh…”
You search her eyes and then her body, surprised by just how many things you can think of. And then surprised that you’re surprised- you’ve got taste! It’s not like you’d fall for her if she had lots of… ok, scrap that, she does have lots of drawbacks but an equal-if-not-greater number in the plus column. Sometimes it’s just a little hard to remember that.
Disregarding her energy, her courage or her clemency you instead plump for the first thing you noticed about her; “I hope she has your hair, those little curls at the bottom. I always wanted curly hair.” Your hand finds it’s way back to them, sinking deep.
Faith blushes like a preteen under the attention, “It’s my mother’s. It was my mother’s.” She corrects, “It is- which tense do you use when it’s something in the now that comes from the past?”
“How should I know?” English perhaps is not going to be your daughter’s strongest asset.
“Point taken.” She chuckles. You smile as she traces tentative fingers across your huge stomach.
“What was your mother like?” The breeze holds still for a moment and even the children in the distance seem to quieten as Faith breaks eye contact and pulls away her hand. “Sorry, it’s just, you haven’t really ever talked about her before.”
It takes a long time for her to answer and when she eventually does you’ve so given up on the idea you’re tucking into your fifth sandwich.
Her voice is hesitant but clear- not unsure of her words just of whether she should share them.
“She was… difficult.” Faith coughs uncomfortably and stares at the blue sky, her eyes moving as she follows the paths of the only two clouds visible. “One day she’d be this fun loving, amazing mom who’d take me places and the next she’d…” She sighs, itching at her left arm again. It’s a craving, you now know, for Orpheus. “She’d lock me in the bathroom. For days. Always the bathroom. Didn’t matter where we were, which fleabag motel. Always the bathroom.”
You’re tempted to say ‘I’m sorry’, just because it’s the automatic reply for a thing like that. Instead you take her hand and hold it to your stomach. It helps you call down so it might just do the same for her. “What happened?”
“Suicide.” She spreads her palm flat, sharing body heat and making your skin burn, “Thing is, I know that if she would have held out for just one more day she would have felt differently.”
Despite the hand on your stomach Faith twists to what has to be a pretty awkward position but at least lets you look at each other properly.
She catches your eyes and examines them. “I don’t ever want to live my life missing something.”
“Yeah.”
“What I mean by that is… I don’t- I don’t wanna look back at this moment in twenty years time and kick myself, y’know? If some guy got you pregnant and then didn’t step up I’d… probably kill him.”
Huh? ‘Step-up’? She’s going to give you money?
Oh no, wait… she doesn’t have any money! And you’re not that kind of girl… but it’s mainly the lack of money. It would be nice if she was, of course- the cash you stole from the Slayer Fund is running out to the degree that Satsu has repeatedly- and rather sweetly- offered to stop eating just so you can.
“You’re going to…?”
“Y’know, come to all the appointments with you and get mushy over scans and hearing her heartbeat.”
You laugh slightly, “Uh… it’s a bit late for those things, I’m… well I’m about to pop.” Like a big mushy tomato.
Oh God that was a disgusting image! Is it really too late to go back in time? If magic can change one of the fundamental rules of reproduction maybe it can take you back in time too? Because this is all one very scary mistake.
“Shit, shit shit! I’m going to pop! And then there’ll be goo and pips!”
Faith, grips your wrists, holding them by your side and trying to sooth you. “Relax, it’s ok. Breathe.” The two of you do the deep breathing, anti-hyperventilation thing they show on TV so much. “You’re going to be great. Besides, I really doubt there’d be pips.”
She doesn’t know that! This is a baby created from magic! It might not even be a baby! Oh my God, it might not even be a baby! It might not even be human! It might burst from your stomach in a shower of-!
“B! You’re not breathing!”
You take in big gasping breaths and try to calm down “Right, yes, ok… gah…”
“You’re thinking about our baby being a twisted demon from outer space aren’t you?”
Yes. “No.”
She chuckles and runs her hands up your arms, linking them behind your neck. “Can’t lie to me B, I know you too well.”
And she does. If there’s one person in the world who knows you it’s Faith.
In another life you could have been best friends. Though having a child together probably isn’t bad. With her arms wrapped around you and hair pushed back there’s a perfect cleavage view.
“Faith,” You unclasp her hands and bring them down in front of you, or… as ‘in front of you’ you can get when there’s a beach ball on your front. “If- if this is going to work, if we’re going to have a chance… You have to get off the drugs.”
“I am!” She tosses your hands away to point to her bare inner elbows. “I’m clean!”
Right, because you’ve never heard that before. Besides, she never injected into her lower arms! “I saw you in Miami! In February. I… I don’t exactly know what I was thinking, but when I got home and… knocked myself up I was hoping that you’d find a way to change, to be sober. And then two months later you were back in Scotland and… of course, you probably don’t remember that… because you were high, but I was there and… maybe you should try avoiding places with a big… ‘Scene’. Y’know?”
“Yeah. I know.” She pouts like a child and crosses her arms, which threatens to make her tiny bikini top over-spill in a not very childish way.
“What happened? I thought… I thought you were over all that. When you stayed for Christmas you were fine but then by February it was like everything had changed. You were off in this other place.” A Buffy-free place, “I thought- I hoped something could have happened between us when-”
It’s ok, she wants to step up- that’s almost a hundred percent admission of ever lasting love. Does pregnancy sap confidence as well as making you horny? Is that not some kind of weird cosmic oxymoron?
“When I found out you were coming back to Scotland and I was pregnant I… I had all these plans going round in my head but you… were so different. You hit me.”
She opens and closes her mouth a bunch of times then sighs in frustration, casting her yes to heaven as if in a desperate plea for the right words. The ones that will make having punched your pregnant stomach ok. Even if she hadn’t known she should have done. She would have done if she had been herself.
You’re fine, she’s fine, Baby S is fine. You just need to relax, right?
“I…I’m sorry. I said I was sorry. I didn’t… sometimes… it’s like I…” Faith sighs and rubs her face, “I’m not me. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you. Uh…” She blushes, “Now. I’d never hurt you now. I’ve moved on from the ‘hurt B enough and she’ll love you’ phase.”
Thankfully.
“Christmas was amazing, but then… you changed.”
Sorry, what now?! “I did not!”
“You did too!” She protests, stealing a cucumber sandwich from your plate. “You got funny on me.”
“That’s so not going to be ‘funny ha-ha’ is it?”
“You were either avoiding me or… being insanely friendly.” ‘Throwing yourself at her’. “I got scared. And then… then I just lost it. To be honest, I don’t even remember most-” She stops suddenly, and smiles facedly, pretending something in the distance has caught her attention. Though her attention span truly isn’t the best she’s a pretty rubbish actress too and besides, no one’s that distractible! “You want some ice cream?”
Her eyes shine with just the right amount of repentance for you to give in to her begging tone. “Maybe later.” In the mean time, you change the subject to keep her happy, “So, now you know, what do you want me to do?”
“Uh… be careful with yourself? Have a baby?”
You actually sort of love how dumb-yet-smart she is. It’s hot. That thing, when guys say that Paris Hilton is hot because she’s stupid? You totally get that!
Besides, slayers get twenty extra IQ points just for being alive. So there.
“No, I meant ‘what do you want me to do’ with the baby and… me. I live in…” Hotels. “And you live in…” Motels. “Ok, so neither of us are actually living in one particular-”
“B,” She cuts you off, “I don’t want to step on no toes but…” You bite your lip and try to refrain from begging her to come close enough to step on you. “Maybe we could just set up shop together. House, mortgage, matching rings and all that,”
Rings? Rings? “Uh-guh.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
You watch her mouth make sounds for a few minutes before realising that you can’t actually understand a word she’s saying, your mind too stuck on ‘rings’. The look on your face must say everything as, once she cottons on, Faith instead starts pointing in the direction or Satsu and then gets the Japanese girl to replace her.
“What happened?” Satsu asks once she’s managed to catch your attention, “Did she threaten you?”
“Faith doesn’t make threats, she makes promises.” You answer, still a little out of it, “But no, she didn’t, I’m fine… better than fine. I think I might be engaged. Or not.” She chokes on her own tongue in utter shock, “You know, someone really should talk to Faith about clarity because, to be honest, she doesn’t seem to have much of it.”
