The Song Remains the Same by SMac

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Chapter 4: Rude Awakenings

Author's Notes: I am a first time writer so constructive criticism is welcome. This is definitely a spuffy story but the tale is long and there's ground to cover before any spuffy action is involved. This is not a fluffy spuffy fic, however.

That first week in Sunnydale was a time when real life took a swing against hopeful fantasy and knocked it on it's ass. Buffy had thought that once she made it to California and to her cousin Faith her big problems would be over and things would settle quickly into place in their new life. So it was with astonishment that she felt like her world was crumbling over and over again her first few days there.

The first and foremost problem was that Katie cycled every four hours or so between the most adorable sleeping baby in the world to the most god-awful screeching banshee that the poor girl had ever heard. Buffy's entire existence narrowed down into desperately doing whatever it took to make the screeching stop as soon as possible, and getting enough rest became her one goal in life, one that she did not see herself achieving any time soon. She walked the walk of the living dead. The very poorly dressed, pudgy living dead.

Which was problem number two: Amy had packed her things for her, and was able to find the jewelry, hidden money, photo album, and Mr Gordo the stuffed pig that she had been directed to, much to Buffy's grateful relief. However, she did not do nearly so well with the clothing. This was not entirely Amy's fault. Buffy had naively assumed that when you pop out a baby your figure would melt down to something closer to normal human size. Instead, she barely registered a difference between her pregnant figure and her post-pregnancy dimensions. None of the clothes Amy packed looked like they would fit her before they were hopelessly out of style. This left her with the maternity blouse and jeans she wore out of the hospital and a set of powder blue sweats. For a girl whose passion had been the latest fashions, it was rather like being consigned to the third circle of hell.

The combination of the stress of being a runaway, new motherhood, too little sleep, raging hormones, and clothes that made her feel like a thirty year old homeless woman, had Buffy teetering on the edge of her sanity. A few sudden and completely unexpected blow-ups had Faith circling her warily lest something set her off again.

Once Buffy realized her clothing options were unacceptable, she decided that she would simply stay behind in the apartment at all times until she had the figure to wear something decent she already owned out the door. However, that plan was shot to hell when she realized that this meant that Faith would be making all of the decisions on her furniture and clothing. Buffy had never given it much thought until she had seen Faith's decor, but she now wondered whether it were possible that Faith was colorblind. She could think of no other reason for the color scheme throughout the apartment, and after all, Faith did tend toward black and red in her wardrobe. The very thought of Faith coming back home with more of the same questionable choices spurred Buffy to rethink her stay-at-home plan.

So, first thing Sunday morning, the girls went shopping. Buffy still had about eight hundred dollars after paying for the train fare, food, and diapers during her escape from New York. She needed to make it stretch for awhile, until she felt strong enough to bring some money into the home herself. They picked up a new car seat to keep Katie safe while in the car, a baby bathtub, and some disposable diapers, wipes, and baby shampoo. Buffy felt bad about the prospect of living on Faith's meager earnings, and bought a little notebook in which to keep a careful tab of the items that Faith paid for, intending some day to be able to pay her back. Then they hit the three thrift shops in Sunnydale for used baby clothes, and bought some dresses, sweat pants, and t-shirts for Buffy that were not too terrible although still quite mortifying to the young girl. She began to understand Faith's choices by the time they were done shopping. Thrift stores, Buffy now understood, were the places hideous merchandise went to die.

They would wait for the weekend garage sales before buying furniture for the room or the baby, in hopes of getting better prices for better items sold by private parties. Surely, it couldn't be worse.

When they got home, Buffy put her new purchases away and shuffled over to the futon bed, laying herself down with a care for her aching muscles. Closing her eyes, she thought, Well, there it is. I am now officially living in a country western song. Only thing missing is a trailer and a dog....and whiskey.

Katie immediately woke up and started winding up again in her little drawer-bed. Of course. Buffy began to cry. "Lunch for one, coming right up." Mother and daughter cried together that afternoon.


~~~~~


Faith left for work each day that week with a sense of tremendous relief. It was the first time she had ever looked forward to going to the auto shop instead of staying home. She wasn't used to being awakened at all hours by a squalling infant, and Buffy's short temper was getting on her nerves. The Great Baby Invasion was more stressful than she had imagined it would be, and she too longed for some much needed rest.

"Faith!" Frank bellowed.

Faith was brought out of a dazed trance by her boss's gravelly bellow from deep inside the storage room.

"Yeah!?" she turned and found Frank standing directly behind her. "Shit! Don't do that!" she backed up a step and glared at him. "Give me a heart attack why dontcha!"

The large man just frowned and barrelled right into the problem of the moment. "This here order is for a hundred fifty alternators. Should be fifteen. And snow tires? I asked you to order all season radials. Pull it together Faith! Can't afford these kind of mix-ups in the inventory." He shoved the form into her chest and lumbered off to the service bays.

Faith stared glumly at his retreating back, and swore softly to herself. She hated this job, but she couldn't afford to lose it. However, she was barely conscious of what she was doing any more. She needed some uninterrupted sleep pronto.

One of the service mechanics overheard the exchange and quietly approached her. "Hey Faith."

"Hey Ed." Faith didn't even look up from her work.

Ed pulled up a chair and leaned in toward her personal space.

"Can I help you with something?" Faith asked slowly, as though speaking to a lunatic. Ed kinda creeped her out on a good day, but this up close and personal invasion of her space was new.

"Any time, sweetheart, just say the word," he smirked.

"In your dreams, Mercado." she snapped.

"Yeah, well, speakin' of dreams.....you seem a little tired lately. Trouble sleepin'?"

"Uh-huh." Faith once again was focused on her task, hoping Ed would take a hint and get lost.

"Maybe I can help with that."

"You're married, and you're not my type. Give it up."

Ed laughed silkily, "Well, there's that. But I was thinkin' of something else to help you sleep." He pulled out a small bag of pills and displayed it beneath the desk, well hidden from prying eyes. "Guaranteed to help you get a good night's sleep."

Faith's eyes followed Ed's arm down to the little bag of pills he was offering her. She geared up to yell at him to get lost but found herself instead closing her mouth and actually contemplating the offer. She knew she couldn't maintain much longer on the job without decent sleep, but she also knew that sleeping pills were not without their own risks.

"Nu-uh. No thanks. I appreciate the offer, but I just need to get some sleep - the natural way - and I'll be fine. Thanks anyway." she watched as he pocketed the bag and stood to go.

"Okay, well if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

"Yeah, I'll do that. But I'm sure it won't come to that. Thanks again." Faith stared after him as Ed headed back into the service bays. No way was she going to start that shit. She just needed some real sleep. These nights couldn't last forever, and she'd just be sure to double-check her work for now. Everything was going to be fine.


~~~~~~~


An apartment unit situated over a bar, next to an alley, and to the side of a veterinary kennel offered few benefits to the residents, and peace and quiet was not usually part of the ambience. Where Buffy and Faith lived on the third floor, the noise from all three was somewhat lessened, although never completely muffled. However, for those unfortunates who lived on the second floor, the music, fighting, clanging of trashcans, and barking dogs was an ever-present background noise, and one grew used to it in much the same way as those who live near waterfalls cease hearing the water rushing past after a while.

It was in one of these second floor apartments that a small thin young woman with long mousy brown hair and nondescript clothing paced worriedly back and forth, wondering what on earth was happening upstairs. A baby, very young from the sound of it, had been crying nonstop for three and a half hours now, and the woman had become more frantic that it stop with each passing minute. There was something in a very young infant's cries that was akin to fingernails on a chalkboard, nature's way of making sure an adult somewhere met it's infant needs and shut it up. Somehow, nature's plan was not working this week, and the incessant howling was driving the young woman to distraction.

She was a very shy woman, and did not tend to stick her nose in other people's business, especially around here, and would have happily kept out of things were it not for the loud crash of a door slamming, followed by the deep sobbing that now could be heard coming from the apartment directly upstairs. Something wasn't right, and the young woman was now determined to find out what it was. If someone needed help, she could not sit there and ignore it any longer.


~~~~~~


By mid-morning, Buffy had finally given up making any attempt at quieting Katie down. Nothing worked - she was dry, fed, burped, and dressed comfortably with no pins sticking her anywhere, and all the singing, rocking, walking, and soothing in the world did not lessen her wails a bit. By ten-thirty, Buffy had finally lost it completely and greatly feared she might actually throw the baby against a wall to get her to shut up. In a panic, the young mother placed her infant in the drawer-bed, and ran from her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. The next half-hour was spent sitting against the far living room wall, on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, and sobbing uncontrollably. She just knew that her daughter had somehow, instinctively, figured out she had the worst mother in the world and the very fact that she could even consider hurting Katie to quiet her was all the proof that Buffy needed to prove her right.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, she chanted silently over and over again, rocking back and forth and sobbing as though her very world had ended.

Suddenly, there came a loud knock-knock-knock on the other side of the door. Buffy startled, stopped her chanting, stared in terror at the door, and held her breath. Someone was here! Who would come here?! Who would knock!? She only knew Faith, no one had any reason to knock on the door.... Unless.... Someone called the police.... Someone had heard the crying and called the police and now Buffy was going to be discovered not only as a runaway and delinquent and possible kidnapper, but also as a horrible person who couldn't even get her own baby to stop crying, a person who had actually thought of throwing her own baby against a wall....

Oh God, oh God, oh God, the internal chanting started up again.

Buffy rose shakily to her feet and listened to hear if the person had given up and gone away. Knock-knock-knock. Buffy jumped. There it came again!

Oh God...

"Hello? Please open the door. I'm just the tenant from the apartment right below yours, and I heard all the crying and all and I was just wonderin' if there was anything I could do to help," the Voice on the Other Side of the Door called out.

Buffy remained completely still, not daring to breathe.

The Voice continued, "Really. I'd like to meet you, and perhaps I could help a bit. If you want. I don't want to intrude or anythin'. But I have a little boy, he's five now, and so I've had a little baby to take care of before, so I was thinkin' maybe you could use a hand. With the baby. A-and since we're neighbors and all, perhaps it would be nice to have a new friend. If you want. I don't want to interfere or anythin'..."

Buffy remained absolutely still.

"Um...Well, I guess I'll go then. I live in apartment 2C, right below yours, if you change your--"

Buffy unlocked the door and opened it to see the young woman nervously wringing her hands and babbling away in the doorway.

"...mind."

They stood there for a moment, and the young woman smiled at Buffy and offered her a handshake. "Hi. My name is Fred."

Buffy's lower lip began trembling and tears started up anew. "I'm Bu-bu-bu-bu-fee-ee-ee.."

"Oh sweetie." Fred smiled sympathetically, and shut the door softly. She pulled the young girl into her arms, and led her over to the sofa. "It's gonna be all right."

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