Summary: Set after the end of Cast Me Not Away and its follow up stories. This sequel is longer and darker than the intervening short stories. It deals with family, children, immortality, life and death, and making amends. We will also be jumping around in time a bit, so look sharp.
Author's Notes: I debated for a long time before writing this one, although the idea was there before I even finished CMNA. Some of you will believe that I have ruined the previous stories, which is fine. All I ask is that if you're unhappy with where this goes that you'll go back, re-read Cast Me Not Away through Silver Bells, and then you can flame me if you'd like. I'll calmly pull out the fire-extinguisher and ignore you, but that's alright. The themes have been there; I just hadn't quite managed to elaborate on them yet. (Oh, and before anyone screams Nika, Wesley, Spike and Buffy will survive. More than that I won't promise.)
Rating: PG-13
Chapter 24: March 2017
Sam didn't let go of Hannah's hand until her embracing Connor and Dawn forced him to. This was the first time he'd faced her family since they had been attacked, and he wondered how Wesley was going to react to his presence. He really liked Wesley and Nika, and he hated to think that they would think less of him.
"This must be Sam," Dawn said, smiling at him. "It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise," he replied, flushing slightly as he realized that Hannah must have told them about him.
Connor raised an eyebrow. "So are you treating Hannah right? Because if you aren't..."
Hannah glared at him. "Connor, stop teasing. I can take care of myself."
"You know I have to check on my favorite Slayer," Connor replied, not noticing that Buffy was standing behind him.
"Your favorite Slayer, huh?" Buffy asked, winking at Hannah. "I thought that was me."
As Connor tried to get himself out of that pickle, Hannah tugged Sam away. "Come on, Buffy will keep him busy for a while."
"Ah, Sam, there you are," Wesley called out. "I wanted to speak to you."
Sam froze, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Don't worry so much," Wesley assured him. "You're not in any trouble. Hannah, Nika could use your help in the kitchen." Hannah looked at her boyfriend, shrugging helplessly before she headed off to find Nika. Wesley led the young man back to his office, and then waved him towards the couch. "Have a seat."
"Is this about the other night?" Sam asked.
Wesley nodded. "It is. I assume you haven't told anyone what happened."
He shook his head. "Spike and Buffy told my parents that Hannah fell off her bike, and that I had helped to get her to the hospital. I figured that was a pretty good story."
"Then you aren't planning on telling anyone what really happened."
"Who would believe me?" Sam asked incredulously.
Wesley nodded. "And yet you had no trouble believing."
Sam was silent for a long time. "Did Hannah tell you how we met?"
"She said you were in a few of her classes," Wesley replied. "I take it there was more to it than that."
"Last year, before I got my growth spurt, the football players thought it was fun to shove me into my locker on a regular basis," Sam replied. "One day, Hannah grabbed Reuel and shoved him in a locker instead. No offense, but a girl who can do that isn't normal." A goofy grin spread over his face. "She's extraordinary."
Wesley had to fight to keep from laughing at the boy. Young love was interesting to watch in action. "I do apologize that Hannah placed you in danger Friday," the Watcher said, watching carefully for his reaction.
"It wasn't Hannah's fault!" Sam said quickly. "I wanted to go along. I just—I'm sorry I ran off. I mean, I know she wanted me to, and Spike and Buffy said it was the right thing, but—"
"You did exactly the right thing," Wesley said, quick to reassure him. "Without your quick assistance, things could have turned out much worse." He took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you would like to know more."
Sam stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"You do not have to be a part of this world, Sam," Wesley said quietly. "You can certainly be Hannah's boyfriend without knowing or doing anymore than you already do. In fact, you could go about your life, forgetting all about what Hannah showed you."
"Or?"
"Or you could choose to learn all you can and help us on a different level," Wesley replied.
Sam shook his head. "But there's nothing special about me. I'm just a guy."
Wesley gave him a gentle smile. "Just as there is nothing special about me. The Watcher's Council, the people whose duty it is to look after Slayers, has utilized the talents of very ordinary people for quite some time now. We have found, in fact, that they are often more than they seem." He stood, indicating that the interview was over. "You don't have to make a decision today, but I wanted to let you know that you have that option."
Sam stood as well, meeting Wesley's gaze with a directness that the Watcher respected. "This is Hannah," the young man said quietly. "I'll do anything I can to help her. Even if—" He stopped, looking away for a moment. "Even if we're not always together, I think that I'll always love her. And I think—I think this is important."
"This is very important," Wesley agreed, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We'll talk more later , Sam. If you want to be a part of this, there will be a place for you."
That was something Sam had always dreamed of.
~~~~~
"Spill," Dawn commanded, finding Hannah in the kitchen.
"What?" she asked innocently.
Dawn stared at her. "Hannah, you didn't tell me he was that cute!"
Hannah grinned, her eyes softening. "Yeah, he really is, isn't he?"
"You're in love!" Dawn exclaimed, sounding like a teenager again herself.
The younger girl shrugged. "Maybe." When every eye in the kitchen turned towards her, she flushed bright red. "Okay, so I am. Who wouldn't be?"
Buffy grinned as she walked through the doors. "Has he asked you to prom yet?"
"Sort of," Hannah replied. "I said that if we were still going out at prom, I'd go with him, and he's talked about buying tickets."
"You'll need a dress," Nika said. "We'd probably better start looking soon."
Buffy nodded. "That's probably a good idea. You'll want to take your time finding something. Senior prom is a big deal."
Hannah fiddled with a napkin she was supposed to be folding. "I don't know. I mean, dresses are expensive, and—"
"Don't even think about it." Enid 's voice was sharp, cutting off the other women who were about to say the same thing. "As Buffy said, this is very important for a young woman. You'll want to look your best."
Hannah blinked. "But patrol—"
"That's why there are two Slayers," Buffy said easily. "Not to mention Spike and Angel. Between the three of us, we should be able to handle anything that comes up that weekend, leaving you free for a couple of days to be a normal high school senior."
Buffy had long since gotten over her jealousy. Besides, she wouldn't give up what she had now for the whole world, even though there had been a lot of pain over the course of the journey.
"There'll be other things to get done too," Nika chimed in. "Your hair and nails, of course. Those appointments should be made soon."
Hannah was beginning to look a little overwhelmed. "Really? I mean, thank you, but—"
"Don't fight it," Dawn suggested, a touch of nostalgia in her voice. "I remember my senior prom." She suddenly laughed. "Buffy went on a killing spree, just to make sure there weren't going to be vampires crashing the dance."
"Well, there were hellhounds at mine," Buffy said, then started recounting the whole story, Hannah shaking her head.
That tale led to another from Nika, about a dance she'd gone to as a teen in Wales, and then Enid told the story of the time she'd gone on a date with three men—all on the same evening.
Hannah laughed as she listened and felt once again that she'd come home.
~~~~~
The table was piled high with food, as was fairly typical of this sort of gathering. Dawn and Connor were planning on spending the next day at the Hyperion, catching up with Angel and Cordelia, who hadn't been able to make it to dinner. Xander and Willow were both coming later in the week, and so it was really just the core group.
Hannah and Sam had been afforded the honor of sitting at the adult's table, while Meg and the twins ate in the kitchen. Carwen had been fed earlier, and the other children were looking after her, leaving the adults to eat in peace.
Once everyone's plates were filled, Dawn looked over at Spike. "Okay, you said you were going to announce the big news at dinner."
"I did, didn't I?" Spike replied with a smug smile.
Wesley hid a laugh. Spike was sounding more and more like himself. It was nice to hear him joking around again after the gloom of the last few months.
"Stop teasing, sweetie," Buffy said, although there was an answering sparkle in her own eyes.
He shrugged, his attitude one of complete insouciance. "Should you tell them, or shall I?"
"You're enjoying this too much," Dawn exclaimed. "Come on, Spike! We've been dying all day."
"What's this about big news?" Hannah asked. "You guys aren't pregnant or something, are you?"
Every eye turned, and she flushed. "Never mind."
Spike lifted an eyebrow. "You completely ruined the drumroll, pet."
"Sorry," Hannah said quickly, turning an even deeper shade of red. "It was just a guess."
"It was a good one," Buffy said, her tone a shade rueful. Although, she thought it probably served Spike right for drawing out the suspense so painfully.
Spike sighed. "Yes, Buffy's pregnant. Looks like we'll be havin' another kid in, what?" He looked over at her.
Buffy shrugged. "I'd guess another seven or eight months. We'll know more once we hear what the doctor has to say. I've got an appointment on Wednesday."
There was a general round of congratulations, plus some good-natured teasing surrounding the fact that both Dawn and Buffy were pregnant at the same time. "Although," Dawn said, "I'd like to point out that I'm due in just a few months."
The news just added to the already-celebratory feel of the evening, although Hannah leaned over to whisper another quick apology to Spike. "Forget it, Sweet," Spike said with a wry grin. "Serves me right for not just spillin' the news."
"I'm really sorry," she said again, although the seriousness of her tone indicated that she wasn't talking about inadvertantly ruining his surprise.
"This about the other night?" he murmured, amidst the general conversation. At her nod, Spike sighed. "Don't be. I s'pose I'm sorry too. I should have been a little quicker about getting back into our usual routine. If I had been, you wouldn't have been put in that position."
"It's not your fault," Hannah said, worried that he was taking an a load of guilt he didn't need. "I shouldn't have been out there without backup, not when I knew that the Kraechers were around."
"True enough," Spike allowed. "Tell you what. From here on out, we'll both try not to do anything stupid, yeah?"
Hannah grinned and nodded, and Spike gave her pony-tail an affectionate tug. "You were right about one thing, you know," he added.
She gave him an inquiring look. "What's that?"
"Reckon I have managed to save a couple of Slayers," Spike replied. "And it does count for a lot."
~~~~~
It was late by the time everyone went home. Wesley had watched from the window as Sam had bid Hannah a lingering goodbye. He had been somewhat reassured by their still-tentative embrace. Even though he liked Sam, the thought of his Slayer going much further than good night kisses on the front porch wasn't a happy thought.
Hannah's face when she came inside, however, flushed and happy and somehow both older and younger—it made his heart ache in a special way. She would be eighteen soon, and technically his and Nika's guardianship would be over at that time. More than that, she was growing up, and though Hannah would always be his Slayer, she was no longer a child.
Wesley had never imagined that the Watcher-Slayer relationship could be like this. He thought that it probably never would have been had he stayed with Buffy or Faith. He'd been too near their own ages at the time to have the truly paternal relationship that Giles and Buffy shared, or that he now shared with Hannah. It was deeper and richer than he'd ever imagined.
It was probably a richer relationship than his father had known.
Wesley sighed, wishing that Roger Wyndam-Pryce hadn't come to mind. It had been five years since he'd last spoken to the man, although his mother still called every once in a while. Nika still sent pictures of the children every year, and again at Christmas, but that was the extent of their contact with one another. There were days he wished it could have been different, but it wasn't possible.
The boys had been four when Roger had approached him, asking when he was planning on enrolling them in the Watcher's Academy. Wesley's reply, that he wasn't planning on doing anything of the sort, had brought Roger up short. There had been the long speech about family honor and duty and the fact that there had been a Wyndam-Pryce on the Council for generations upon generations.
Wesley had calmly replied that they would not go to the Academy, but that they would be given an opportunity to decide whether or not they wanted to be Watchers. If they so chose, he had already worked things out with Giles for their training. When asked why not the Academy, Wesley had said, "Because I refuse to send my children away for seven years of their lives, Father. I want to see them grow up."
"You're a fool," was the response. "A sentimental fool. Mark my words, Wesley, those boys of yours will turn into soft-headed idiots."
"I very much doubt it," Wesley had said. "Their mother would never allow it."
Instead of hearing the wry humor in Wesley's voice, Roger had said, "You are no son of mine to neglect your duties to your family. I will see that a place is saved for David and William—"
"It's Dafydd, Father," Wesley had replied coldly, "and please do not bother. I won't be changing my mind."
He'd hung up the phone then, knowing that arguments were useless. Wesley had not spoken to him since, and his father had not tried to call. It was just as well. He had his own family, not to mention the support of the Council. Tradition was taking a backseat to utility these days, and Wesley was certain that either or both of the boys—or Carwen, for that matter—would be well enough trained, should they choose that path.
His children were going to have a choice; he'd promised himself and Nika that much.
"Gloomy thoughts, my love?"
"Not gloomy, just remembering," Wesley replied, putting his arm around Nika's shoulders as she snuggled up to him.
She smiled, seeing their reflections in the window. "You were watching Hannah."
"I wanted to be sure Sam got off alright."
Nika chuckled. " Cariad , I know you better than that."
Wesley smiled in response. "Yes, you do. I like that boy, Danika."
"You talked with him tonight?"
"Yes, and he wanted to help." Wesley laughed. "He's a bit too eager, actually, but I imagine that has as much to do with his age as his relationship with Hannah."
"Quite possibly," Nika replied. "He's a good kid." She was silent for a moment. "When did you want to discuss matters with Hannah?"
"I'm not sure," Wesley admitted. "We could do it on her birthday, I suppose, or possibly before. I'm not sure she realizes the significance of the date, other than in Slayer terms."
Nika wrinkled her nose. "She knows that the Council doesn't subscribe to such barbaric rituals any longer."
"Yes, but the tests this summer are designed to do essentially the same thing, without the risk." Wesley shook his head. "It's a good thing Giles managed to do away with that, because they would have had to conduct the Cruciamentum over my dead body."
Nika lifted an eyebrow. "They would not have gotten that far," she said. "Because Nain and I would have cursed the lot of them." The lines on her forehead deepened as she frowned. "I would suggest speaking to Hannah before her birthday, however. Just in case there's any doubt in her mind."
Wesley nodded. "Of course. That might be best." He bent his head, catching her lips in a heated kiss, the passion no less strong now than it had been more than a decade before.
They were both breathing hard when he pulled back, and Nika took his hand, tugging him back towards the bedroom. "Let's go."
"We need to talk about that note from Davey's teacher," Wesley reminded her, although he definitely had other things on his mind.
Nika gave him an incredulous look. "Are you mad? After that kiss? We can talk in the morning. Or sometime tomorrow afternoon, if Nain could be persuaded to take Carwen out for the day."
Wesley grinned, a hungry expression in his eyes. "Oh, I'm sure she'd be happy to help."
Their conversation that night required no words.
Chapter 25: December 2014
Christmas had to be Hannah's least favorite holiday, or it had been. With her mom, there had been no celebrations of any kind, really. They had been lucky to have enough money for something special for dinner, let alone gifts. At the foster home she'd been in last Christmas, things had been a little better. There had been a tree and presents, anyway. At the same time, though, there had been the sense that she wasn't welcome, and the gifts she'd been given had no special meaning to them because the giver didn't really know her.
This year might actually be different, better—except that she was too afraid to hope.
Wesley's voice drifted down the hallway. Hannah had left her door open just so she could hear him. The twins' room was just down from her own, and she loved listening to him read to the boys. He'd been reading Lord of the Rings until last week, when they had finished up, and Will had requested The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe next.
She probably could have gone in to listen to the story, but she felt weird about it, like an interloper. Hannah got along just fine with Will and Davey, but it was hard to forget that they were the real kids, the ones who really belonged. She was there through a twist of fate, no more. Had she not been chosen, she would probably have floated around the system until she turned eighteen, and then she'd have been booted.
Still, she loved to listen, and she could hear well enough from her own room as Wesley read, " 'They all saw it this time, a whiskered furry face which had looked out at them from behind a tree. But this time it didn't immediately draw back. Instead, the animal put its paw against its mouth just as humans put their finger on their lips when they are signalling you to be quiet. Then it disappeared again. The children all stood holding their breath.'"
"Hannah?"
She opened her eyes, sitting up immediately, wondering if Nika realized that she'd been listening to the story, or if the woman thought she'd been asleep. "Yeah?"
Nika stood in the doorway, a slight frown on her features. "You know, if you wanted to listen to Wesley read, you could join the boys in their room."
Hannah flushed. "It's okay. I can hear."
Nika hesitated and then nodded. "I wanted to speak with you, if you have a moment."
Hannah nodded, watching as Nika came in the room, sitting down awkwardly on the bed. She was seven months along at this point, and she looked it. "I know that you haven't been here long," Nika began, "but I thought you might want to be able to purchase Christmas gifts. You certainly don't have to, and no one is expecting anything, but I thought you'd want the option."
The girl frowned. "What do you think I should do?"
Nika shook her head. "That is up to you. Wesley is going to take the boys shopping for gifts in a few days, however. I know that they usually buy something for us and Enid, but we keep the exchanges between everyone else fairly small." She laughed a little. "There are quite a few of us, and so once you start buying presents, it's hard to know where to stop."
Hannah swallowed. "I don't have any money."
"We know that, cariad ," Nika replied gently. " Which is why I wanted to speak with you about it. Wesley and I have been talking, and you should know that the Council pays us for your 'upkeep,' they call it. Some of that money rightly belongs to you. You're a little young at the moment to have an after-school job, and your Slayer responsibilities would make that difficult to do anyway. We want to give you an allowance out of the Council's money."
"You don't have to do that," Hannah said quickly. "I mean, I know my other foster parents—"
"This is not foster care," Nika said firmly. "Besides, once you turn eighteen that money will be yours. You will be recognized as an adult, both by the Council and the State."
Hannah nodded. Eighteen didn't seem so far away, and she'd be on her own then. Something of that anxiety must have shown on her face, because Nika quickly hugged her. "You are Wesley's Slayer, Hannah, and a part of this family. If you want to know how long a Watcher looks after his Slayer, ask Giles in a couple weeks when he visits. He is still very much Buffy's Watcher, even though he has a different job title now."
She stood slowly, holding out a hand to Hannah. "Come. Enid 's baking, and she could use your help decorating. It sounds as though Wesley's nearly done with the chapter. You'll want to borrow the book from him I'm sure."
Hannah nodded. "It's cool. I've never read that one before."
"Then I'll tell Wesley to give you the book when he's done with it," Nika replied. "And, Hannah, tomorrow night go in and sit with them. You'll be welcome there."
~~~~~
"It's crooked," Spike said.
Buffy frowned. "No, it's not."
"Yes, it is."
"It can't be."
"Look, Slayer, I'm tellin' you the bloody tree is crooked. If you've got a problem with that assessment, come out here and look at it yourself. Then I can move it how you want it."
Spike sounded exasperated, and Buffy couldn't exactly blame him. They'd been arguing all week over little petty things that shouldn't have made any difference at all. His patience was definitely wearing thin. "Are you sure—"
"Enough!" It was an explosion of sound. Buffy came around the tree to find his eyes sparking gold. He was obviously hanging onto his control by the thinnest of threads. "I know watching me nearly buy it was upsetting," Spike said, his voice lower now since he had no desire to have Meg listening in on their argument. "But you have got to get over this, Buffy! I'm not weak or fragile, nor am I likely to die just by movin' a bloody Christmas tree."
She opened her mouth to apologize, but Spike held up a hand to stop her. "Don't," he said shortly. "You've been sayin' you were sorry for the last few weeks, an' it's getting old. Just stop actin' like a soddin' mother hen."
Buffy blinked then took a deep breath. "I know you're upset, Spike, but I worry about you, and—"
"You don't have to worry about me," he replied, cutting her off. "Buffy, I didn't die. I'm not goin' to die. You seem to forget that I've been around for over a century. I'm not some idiot fledge who doesn't know to get to shelter before the sun comes up. I can bloody well take care of myself."
She was silent. Buffy knew she was being irrational. She knew it with every fiber of her being. It wasn't like she'd always treated Spike like this, either. After all, she knew just how much damage he could take and keep on ticking—he'd survived getting an organ dropped on him and a church fire, not to mention the beating at her hands.
Well, more than one beating, actually.
Life was fragile, though, and she'd never realized that Spike was included in that rather trite statement. Losing him—or almost losing him—had shaken her world to the core.
"I know."
Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath. "I'm going out for a bit. Need to get some air." He waited for the "be careful" that she tossed after him every time he left the house, even if it was just for groceries, but she stayed silent. "Right. Be back later."
Buffy sank down on the couch. She was driving both of them crazy—Spike because he hated being hovered over and herself because she hated it when he was angry. Things had been going so well before that trip to Cleveland . Now, everything seemed so breakable, like one of those soap bubbles that Meg loved to blow.
It wasn't just Spike. It was the fact that Dawn and Connor had finally decided to move to Cleveland . They had a few things to finish up out here, but they planned on making it final in the spring. Dawn had never lived more than a short drive away, and Buffy hated to think that they would lose touch.
There was the new Slayer, who was too young. It made Buffy remember how much of her own childhood she had missed out on. It was finding more gray hairs and more lines on her face—and it was wondering when Spike would look at her and see an old woman.
What would he do when he no longer thought her young and beautiful?
Deep down, Buffy knew it was a stupid question. Spike would stay with her until she was in her grave, but there it was. Faith's death had seemed to spark an avalanche of changes, and it burst her soap bubble world where everything was fine and it didn't matter that Spike wasn't changing, or that she was.
But it did matter, and Spike could change. She'd seen that board protrude through his chest, and she'd known that Spike, as constant as he seemed, could change. Buffy could lose him.
And that made her wonder how many other ways there might be to lose him.
"Mom?"
Buffy looked up to see Meg standing in front of her. "What is it, sweetie?"
"Are you and Dad fighting again?"
"No, we just had a little disagreement, that's all," Buffy was quick to reassure her, although Meg's face told her that her daughter wasn't buying it. "We'll be fine, Meg."
Meg looked at her mom, not believing a word of it. Her parents had been fighting non-stop since they took that trip to Cleveland . "I think you guys should have to kiss and make up."
"What?" Buffy asked.
"I think you and Dad should have to kiss and make up," Meg insisted. "You make me do that with the twins when we fight. Why shouldn't the two of you have to do that when you fight?"
"It's different with grownups," Buffy replied, her voice growing sharp.
"Why?" Meg asked insistently. "You've been mad ever since you guys got back. You're always upset."
"Meg, I don't think—"
"Is Dad going to leave?" she asked, and the only thing that kept Buffy from getting angry with her daughter were the ready tears in her voice.
"No, Meg, your father would never leave," Buffy replied.
"Is he going to die?" she asked, and her whole body tensed with the answer. Meg knew that Spike had been hurt really badly. She was scared that maybe he wasn't as recovered as everybody kept saying he was, especially since her mom was so angry all the time.
Spike had once told her that Buffy always got mad when she got scared. That had been after she'd nearly been run over by a car and Buffy had yelled at her for fifteen minutes straight.
"No!" Buffy stared at her daughter in horror. "Why would you think that?"
"Then why are you so angry?"
Buffy took a deep breath. "I'm not angry at your dad," she finally said. "I promise. Now, why don't you go upstairs and get ready for bed. It's getting late."
Meg shot her one last, long look before heading up the stairs. Buffy leaned back on the couch, thinking about what her daughter had said. The last time she and Spike had really made love was before they'd gone to Cleveland . Not that they hadn't had sex, but Spike had been hurt, and then they'd never really seemed to connect—
Maybe Meg was right. They needed to kiss and make up. They needed to do something before this rift between them became unmanageable.
She sighed, looking at the Christmas tree. Spike had been right. It was crooked.
~~~~~
Spike wanted to go out and do some violence. He wanted to disregard Buffy's anxiety entirely, show her that not only was he fully healed but that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. While the idea of going down to one of the demon bars and picking a fight had merit, Spike had somehow moved past senseless violence in the last ten years.
Not that he didn't like a spot of violence before bedtime, just that he wanted it to accomplish something while bashing heads in.
Besides, tonight he wanted company of the male sort, so he decided to swing by Wesley's house to see if the Watcher would join him. Spike wanted someone to commiserate with him, and Wesley was good at that sort of thing.
The house was blazing with light when he arrived, and Spike knocked softly, knowing that the boys were probably in bed. He was a little surprised when Hannah answered the door, her freckles standing out against pale skin. "Spike."
There was relief in her tone as she recognized him, and Spike slipped inside the house, fixing her with a concerned look. "What's up, pet?"
They hadn't spent much time together. Wesley had been seeing to much of the girl's training while Spike was recovering, and both Connor and Angel had been happy to assist when necessary. Spike had had his hands full with Buffy and taking care of some of the paying jobs that came up after he was healed.
She seemed like a nice enough girl, though, and Wesley had kept him informed of her progress. Spike kept thinking that he probably ought to take more of an interest in her, after what Enid had said. Especially now that Connor and Dawn were planning on moving. Someone would need to take Hell-Boy's place.
"It's Nika," Hannah replied, gulping audibly. "She started having contractions, but it's early, and Wesley and Nain had to take her to the hospital."
"The boys?" Spike asked, although he already knew the answer. He could sense their steady heartbeats on the floor above.
Hannah shrugged. "Still asleep. Wesley wanted me to stay with them, but he said not to wake them up."
She was scared; Spike could smell it, sharp and spicy, on the air. "Why don't I stay here until they get back?" he suggested. It wasn't demon-fighting, but it would legitimately get him out of the house for a while.
"Okay," Hannah replied, trying not to show how comforting she found Spike's presence. It wasn't that babysitting a couple of kids was a big deal. The twins were asleep, and she had looked after them a couple of times since she'd come to live with Wesley and Nika.
She just didn't want to be alone, waiting for news. She really liked these people, and she didn't want anything bad to happen to them.
"Don't worry about Nika, pet," Spike said, picking up on her emotions. "She's got Enid with her. That woman is a walking miracle. You've tasted her cooking, so you ought to know."
That got a small giggle out of her, and Spike led her into the living room, very much at home in Wesley's house. "So how are you likin' the Slayer gig?"
"I like it."
Hannah said it with quiet conviction, and Spike gave her a sharp look. "That right?" When she didn't reply, he asked, "So you seein' your mum for Christmas or anything?"
She appeared surprised by the question and responded without thinking. "No. Mom didn't show up last year, so I doubt it. She probably won't even remember."
Spike blinked in surprise. Even vampires knew when Christmas approached. The stores advertised it for months in advance; it was a little hard to miss. He knew that there had been something wrong with the girl's mother since Hannah was living with Wesley and Nika, but this shed new light on things. "You ask for anything special?"
Hannah shrugged, uncomfortable. "Not really. I don't—it's just—"
"It's different here." His words, and the emotion behind them, had Hannah meeting his eyes. "I can promise you that."
The ringing of the cell phone cut off anything else he might have said. "H'lo?"
"Spike?" Buffy sounded like she was out of breath. "Where are you?"
"At Wesley's," he replied shortly. "Thought I'd stop by, but they're at the hospital."
"Oh, good, you know," Buffy said with relief. "Wesley just called me. Nika's in labor now, and they're going to deliver the baby tonight. I guess there might be some complications. I called Dawn, and she's going to stay with Meg while I go to the hospital."
Spike was silent for a moment. "I think I'm going to stay here with Hannah. She's by herself with the twins, and if this takes a while, she could probably use a hand."
"Good," Buffy replied, surprising him. "I know Wesley was worried about leaving them alone for too long. I'll let Wes know that you're taking care of things."
"Then I'll see you soon."
He was about to hang up when Buffy's voice caught him. "Spike."
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
"Love you too."
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