__New Horizons__
By Jolene Beasley
Willow dashed into the maternity ward waiting room, breathless from running. She spotted Xander, Joyce, and Wilton in the far corner, and made a beeline for them, dodging chairs and people along the way. "Hey, you guys, when did she come in? Am I too late? Is the baby here yet? Where’s Giles?" She looked around the room, suddenly perplexed. "What are all these people doing here?"
Joyce smiled and answered before the men could regroup and decipher her rapid-fire questions. "She came in just after noon. Rupert is with Buffy. The baby’s on his way, but he’s not here yet. And, all these people..." she gestured around the room. "...are waiting, just like us. All these babies decided to be born at the same time, I guess."
"Oh. That’s weird. Well, anyway, how’s Buffy? Is she, like, really cranky, and rude, like you see on TV?"
The small crowd laughed. Joyce shook her head proudly. "She’s doing great. I’m impressed with how calm she is. I think Rupert is having a panic attack, but otherwise, they’re great."
"Giles is such a worry-wart. I think it’s cute. But... you don’t think he’ll pass out, do you, because of the..." she lowered her voice to a conspiratory whisper. "...you-know-what?"
Xander waved a dismissing hand. "No way, not Giles. If he can face a slime demon, he can face this."
Joyce looked highly amused. "Don’t bet on it."
********
Inside a small waiting room, Buffy was propped up in a semi-comfortable position on a small gurney. Giles was sitting next to her feeding her ice chips and giving her the sappiest, happiest gooey-eyed looks she’d ever seen. Well, unless she was having a contraction. Then the expression on his face was more like a man being tortured with hot branding irons. She actually thought he was doing pretty well, considering a normal guy would’ve probably passed out by now.
The Bond was firmly in place, making verbal communication unnecessary. ‘More ice, love?’ He gestured, holding the bowl close so she could see it.
‘Not right now. Just hold me, okay?’
‘I think I can manage that.’ He slid beside her, turning so he could frame her head and shoulders with his arm, and she rested her head against his warm chest. He rubbed her shoulders soothingly.
"Ummmm... nice." Her voice sounded cracked and tired. ‘Just like me,’ she thought, and giggled. Another contraction hit her, and Giles gripped the edge of the bed exactly the same as she was doing. They rode the wave out, both of them breathing in unison, just as the childbirth classes had taught them. She wondered if the pretty Lamaze teacher knew Giles was such an attentive student because he’d be feeling every single pain right along with her. Right now, she wasn’t sure Giles would call the Bond a ‘blessing.’
When it began to ease, she murmured, "Rupert, you don’t have to go through this. You can block it, if you want. I don’t want you to pass out on me."
He gasped for air, but shook his head. "No, I don’t dare. You’d be vulnerable."
"But, guys aren’t made to take this child-bearing stuff."
"Nevertheless."
"Stubborn man." She nuzzled him through the crisp cotton of his shirt, loving his warmth despite being sweaty and tired.
"While we’re resting, shall we do a perimeter scan? It’s daylight, but one never knows."
She shrugged. "Anything for a distraction."
They relaxed, closing their eyes and clasping hands as they lowered the barrier between the natural and the supernatural and extended the Bond outward. It had become easier in the past year, but it was still an effort. They sensed the other expectant mothers around them, touching them before moving on. Nurses, doctors, aides, secretaries, visitors, including their little party in the waiting room... they identified and bypassed them all. There were a lot of people in the hospital that day, and it was making things more difficult, since there were more people to examine and dismiss as being non-threatening.
After a few minutes, another contraction began, and they had to break and breathe until it went away. Buffy was getting tired, and Giles knew it. "I wish someone would come in and tell us how long this is going to continue." He glanced up and smiled as a middle-aged nurse came into the small room. "Ah, excellent timing, Sister... I mean, Nurse. Sorry, British term, there."
The little nurse smiled. "No offense at all, Mr. Giles," she said in a clipped, decidedly North London accent. "It’s nice to hear a bit of the old country, now and then. Call me Sister, if you like, but the name’s Mary."
Buffy laughed. "Oh, God, now there’s two of ‘em. I’m in big trouble."
The nurse laughed with them, and set about taking Buffy’s vital signs. After looking at Giles sharply, she took his, too. "Dr. Stephenson tells me we have an unusual situation here. Are you feeling everything your wife feels?"
He nodded, his eyes never leaving his wife’s face. "That is essentially correct."
She gave her head a doubtful shake. "I warn you, birth is not for the faint of heart. If you have any doubts about your ability to bear the pain, I can give you a sedative."
"No!" He said the word explosively, then repeated in a softer tone, "No, thank you. I will manage. Is Doctor Stevenson on his way?"
"Yes, as we speak. He’s bringing his nurse with him, since we’re so thinly staffed today. Mr. Giles, you’d best be having a few of those ice chips, yourself. You look positively done in."
Buffy smirked and handed him the bowl. "We’ll share."
"Now, Mrs. Giles, I need to check your progress. Ah, Mr. Giles, you’ll have to get off the bed, luv."
He stood, feeling chastised. The nurse did a quick exam, then snapped her gloves off in satisfaction. "You’re coming along nicely, dearie. Near full dialation. It shouldn’t be too long, perhaps another hour or so. Doctor Stevenson will be able to tell you more when he arrives."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "I thought when the contractions were five minutes apart, you were really close." She groaned as the aforementioned contraction began, and Giles, standing near the door, nearly went to his knees before the nurse caught him and sat him in a chair. She shook her head again, amazed. Sunnydale Hospital certainly presented the most unusual medical cases she’d ever seen in her long career.
After the pain eased, Giles sat up slightly and beckoned to the nurse. "Would you mind terribly telling our family and friends in the waiting room of our progress? I would do so, but I’d hate for someone to have to carry me back to the room, and I’d rather not have to explain myself to the entire floor. This is... is quite... intense."
Mary laughed heartily at his understatement. "Brave soul. Yes, I’ll tell them. You two rest. You’re going to have an interesting afternoon."
After the little nurse delivered her message and left, Xander looked towards the room in sympathy. "Poor Giles. Demons, vampires, torture, head injuries, and now baby-having pain. He never gets a break."
Willow smiled at her friend’s obvious misunderstanding. "I don’t think he looks at it that way, Xand. I think he thinks he’s pretty lucky."
Joyce and Wilton nodded in agreement, then laced their fingers together lovingly. Joyce spoke up, smiling at her husband. "Love makes up for just about anything."
********
Inside the delivery room, Doctor Phil Stevenson was grinning from ear to ear as he held up a squalling, red-faced bundle of flailing arms and legs for Giles and Buffy to see. "It’s a boy, although you already knew that!" He clamped and cut the cord carefully, then handed the screaming bundle to a nurse. She placed the baby in the scale, and Doctor Phil read the numbers off to the tired parents. "Eight pounds, fourteen ounces, twenty-two and a half inches. He’s going to have your height, Rupert." The delivery room staff busied themselves with the process of post-birth cleanup, and Doctor Phil carried on a running conversation with the new parents as he worked.
"You two did great. Rupert, I can’t believe you managed to stay on your feet." He maneuvered a chair under the exhausted man just as he began to collapse. Phil nodded at a nurse, and she strapped an oxygen mask on Giles before he could protest. He sat there, breathing heavily, as the oxygen revived and strengthened him.
"I wanna hold him," Buffy said brightly, as though she’d just came out of the elevator instead of a six-hour delivery. Doctor Phil obliged, placing a now clean and quiet baby into her arms. "Marcus Everett Giles, meet your Daddy." Rupert threw the mask off and stood more steadily, coming over to his wife with an awe-stricken face. He put out a finger tentatively, and little Marcus latched onto it with surprising strength.
"Hello, Marcus, my son. I love you." He kissed the tiny, touseled head carefully, then looked up with brimming eyes at Buffy. "You two are the most beautiful creatures on God’s earth."
Buffy snorted derisively. "Yeah, I’m sure I look like Miss America right now. But it’s okay, babe, I know you’re still delirious. You’re entitled to a little confusion."
He kissed her reverently. "Not confusion. I should think supreme clarity of thought is more accurate."
"Not if you call sweat, blood, and running mascara beautiful."
Doctor Phil chuckled. He was fond of this seemingly mis-matched couple. They were so much in love, and their teasing always tickled him.
"Hey, Doctor Phil? When can we go home?"
His chuckle turned into a laugh. "Give us twenty-four hours, at least, Buffy! We have to take blood, take some vital signs, footprint him, give him his first meal, and see that you’re healing properly before you can whisk him away."
She grumbled something, then started to get up.
"Hey! Where do you think you’re going?" Both Giles and Doctor Phil tried to hold her in place.
"I need to go to the bathroom, you dumb men. If Marcus is gonna get his first meal, I’m it." She pushed them away and stumbled towards the door. "I don’t wanna have to pee right in the middle of it."
********
Five miles away, a frenzy of activity marked the modest Sunset Inn as a small group of black clad men packed a van full of what looked like suitcases and overnight bags. The only man not wearing black was Travers. He still wore his expensive three piece wool suit, and he was obviously angry. "Danson! Don’t forget the spell ingredients in my car. We’ll make an all out assault as soon as it is dark." He mopped his brow with a carefully folded handkerchief, and glared at the cloudless sky. "It’s too infernally hot to move during the day."
One of the men spoke hesitantly, troubled but cowed by Travers’ authority. "Mr. Travers? What about the baby? If we take it now, it could die."
"I have that taken care of. Ah, here she is now."
A car pulled up, and a tall, lanky woman got out, dressed in a nurse’s uniform. Her name badge said, ‘D. Collins, RN, OB.’ She nodded to Travers, then waited quietly at his side.
Once the van was loaded, he called them all into the room for last minute instructions. "We’re going to have to expect some conflict. They’ll have guards posted, I’m sure, but they won’t be expecting witchcraft. Giles should be exhausted by his lack of sleep, and Buffy will take several hours to recover, Slayer or not. We have a brief window with which to work, and we must try to bring both the Slayer and the child with us. Use your tranquilizers sparingly, we only have the one box loaded." He swore heavily, bringing his fist down on the small table in front of him. "Leave it to those heretics to catch us off guard."
"We’ll be all right, guv. We’re ready." The heavyset man hefted his pack, laden with smoke bombs, stun sticks, and other small weapons.
"We must be. Very well. Take your positions in exactly..." He consulted his watch. "... two hours. You have time to eat and set up stations. We’ll move just after dark, when visiting hours are over at..." He looked at the nurse for confirmation of the time.
"Eight. The OB Ward should be fairly quiet by then." Her voice was deceptively soft and comforting.
"Right, then. Eight o’clock. Go to it."
Travers watched his little band of crack marksmen and martial arts experts as they dispersed and drove away, leaving him with the van and the remaining weapons. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. He hated vans. "Give me a Land Rover, any day, over this clumsy box on wheels," he commented to Nurse Collins as they climbed into the van and began their planned takeover of the Giles family.
********
Angel paced the length of the living room, avoiding the few shafts of light that crisscrossed the floor. Whistler watched calmly, untouched by the tension in the room. Beside Whistler were three rather unusually shaped individuals; large, red faced creatures that looked like exactly what they were--Earth demons--not particularly bright demons, but good soldiers. Whistler was a surprisingly good recruiter, although he had come up with some... interesting... volunteers. These three were no exception.
One of them spoke up. "Doctor Phil is takin’ care of the Slayer and her baby, right?"
"Ex-slayer," Whistler corrected.
Angel nodded, and continued to pace.
Another demon made a surprised noise. "Doctor Phil fixed my arm when I got caught by a police dog down by the docks. He’s okay, for a human."
The other two demons grunted in agreement. The first demon continued. "These guys we’re guardin’ better not bother Doctor Phil, or I might get upset." His face shifted, showing protruding horns and ragged teeth. "I might have to get mad."
There was a knock at the door, and a small, bluish creature came in, looking furtively at the larger creatures sitting across from him. "Uh, sorry, boss, but you wanted to know when those Brit guys moved out, and they just did. Oh, and they had a dame with ‘em, all dolled up in a nurse’s getup."
Angel stood. "She must be a ringer. They’ll go after Buffy and the baby tonight, then. We’d better be ready. Once we get everyone in position, I’ve gotta go warn Buffy and Giles."
The goblin shifted from one foot to the other. "Some of the troops are already there. We know what to do."
"All right, then. Looks like we’re going to a party." He started for the sewer access, the little blue creature, Whistler and the three red demons trailing after him.
One of the demons remarked, "It’s about time. I’ve been itching for a little mayhem. I was gettin’ kinda bored. This town is so quiet in the summer."
********
If Quentin Travers had been observing the hospital closely that afternoon, he would have packed his clothes and gone back home. A steady trickle of supernatural creatures gradually formed a protective, but hidden ring around the hospital. By the time daylight had faded, there were fairies, slyphs, trolls, a few wood nymphs and sprites, the three earth demons and two goblins scattered in the woods and bushes all around the hospital grounds. There was even an elf in every trash bin just outside the doors to the place. Angel had done a thorough job of recruiting. He had an army that was as effective in the dark as it was in the light, and none of them needed sleep.
The best thing was, none of them objected to fighting on the former Slayer’s side. She and Faith never bothered the lesser creatures because they weren’t evil, murderous beasts. The mythical and the natural lived in relative peace in Sunnydale, so long as the bad guys didn’t interfere. It looked like the bad guys were going to, though, and pretty soon.
Angel set the goblins up as lieutenants over the others. They were pretty savvy, a lot smarter than the earth demons, lively, observant and agile. There were only two of them, though, and that mean there were several exits that weren’t covered as well as he liked. It took longer that he’d expected to get everyone set and issue final instructions. It had already gotten dark. Angel slipped in the back entrance of the hospital and started up the stairs to warn his friends.
********
Wesley and Faith arrived just as the little British nurse came out to let the Giles’ family visitors know that the baby would soon be moved to the nursery. The group went there immediately, hoping they’d catch a glimpse before visiting hours were over. They were rewarded about thirty minutes later with the image of Giles, still dressed in his green scrubs and mask, carrying his son with a proud, if tired, look on his face. Several annoyed nurses, unable to persuade this mad father to hand his son over, followed him closely.
"There he is!" Willow’s voice could be heard through the glass, and Giles grinned broadly behind the mask as he came over to the window. He held the dark, touseled head up carefully, balancing him against his shoulder to give them a good look. "Oh, isn’t he cute? Hey, baby..." she crooned, tapping the glass. "Hey, Markie..."
Behind the glass, Giles waggled an admonishing finger. "Marcus," he said clearly.
"Cute? He looks like Giles, poor kid," Xander cracked.
Joyce was overwhelmed. "That’s my grandson, Wilton. I can’t believe it!" He squeezed her shoulders as she began to cry. She pressed her fingers against the glass, longing to touch him.
Faith just looked at the child, an enigmatic smile on her face. Wesley stepped up beside her, uncomfortable but curious. "Hmm. This is quite historic, you know. A double-blooded child. I just hope..." He stopped and looked around, realizing that he was spoiling the moment. "...ah, never mind." He tapped the glass gently, and whispered, "Hello, there, young fellow." Marcus stared back at him solemnly and sucked his fist.
"When can we see Buffy, Giles?" Willow made sure she raised her voice so Giles could hear through the thick glass.
Giles pulled the mask down and said, "Tomorrow morning. Joyce, you and Wilton can come to the room now, if you’d like. We’re going to feed him."
"Darn." Willow pouted. "Relatives get all the fun. Well, it’s almost time to go. We’ll check in with Angel, then we’ll be back in the morning, okay?"
"Sleep well, Willow, and you too, Xander. Be careful going out tonight." Giles adjusted his tiny burden back into a one armed carrying position and pushed open the nursery door, heading towards Buffy’s room. Two of the harried nurses followed, while the third just stared and shook her head.
Angel met the two friends on their way back to the waiting room. He stopped them, giving them a quick explanation of his mission. "I have to warn them about the fake nurse. They’re gonna try and just walk out with the baby, thinking that Buffy will follow... which she would. I gotta go. You guys stay here." He started down the hall, only to be accosted by a large, formidable woman in white.
"And just where do you think you’re going?" She demanded, blocking his path easily.
"I have to see Mrs. Giles. She just had a baby. I won’t take long, I promise."
"Are you a relative?"
"No, not exactly, but..."
"Well, visiting hours are over, bub." She placed her hands on her hips and shook her head.
"It’s important, ma’am. It’ll just take a second."
The woman didn’t budge. Angel was debating whether or not to try and fake her out, when he spotted a courtesy phone on the wall of the waiting room. "Can I just call her?"
The nurse relented. "Go ahead, but make it short."
Angel dialed the room number given to him by Willow. The phone rang several times, but no one answered.
He held the phone up as he closed the switchhook. "No answer."
The big nurse grunted. "See? She’s either sleeping or feeding the baby. No visitors allowed."
"Can you give her a message? Here... I’ll write it down..."
"Do I look like a message service? Visiting hours are over. Go away!"
"But, ma’am, this is really important." Willow tried her best pleading voice.
"Sorry. Rules are rules." The nurse was doing an incredibly accurate imitation of a stone wall.
"But, if you’d just..."
The nurse stopped in the middle of the hall, arms folded, effectively blocking any attempt to go around her. "It’s late, and the mothers don’t want to be disturbed." She started back to the nurses’ station, then turned and glowered fiercely at the three exiles. "Don’t let me catch you disturbing them, either, any of you, or I’ll toss you down the laundry chute myself."
Angel gritted his teeth in frustration. He decided to go to the floor below and keep trying until he reached them. Willow and Xander followed him, feeling worried and helpless.
"Hey, here come my menfolk!" Buffy beamed as Giles entered with a fussing Marcus in his arms. The two nurses following him stopped at the door, their frowns melting into more tolerant smiles. He went to the bed and sat beside her, handing the squirming bundle to her as her face lit up with radiant delight. "Hey, sweetie baby, are you hungry? Uh, I guess I need some pointers, girls. This is gonna take some getting used to."
The nurses advanced with relief at finally being able to do their jobs. They shooed Giles out of the way and began giving Buffy advice and instructions as Marcus latched onto her swollen breast and began feeding. Her face registered surprise, followed by a wince of pain. "Ouch... that feels weird. Well, that’s okay, Marcus, ‘cause it’s the first time for you, too. We’ll both get better at it."
After cautioning Buffy not to feed him more than three minutes on each side, the nurses finally left, satisfied that maternal instinct was kicking in nicely. Giles pulled his chair closer, resting his tired forehead against her pillow. After a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. Joyce and Wilton came in, trying to keep quiet as they took in the scene.
Buffy gave a slight nod, keeping the blanket safely in place to protect her modesty. "Hey, Mom, Wilton, c’mon in. We’re all just getting acquainted here."
Giles was alternately watching Buffy’s face, set in a mask of wondering love, and looking at his new son as he nursed contentedly. He reached over and ran his fingers through the thatch of dark hair on the top of the baby’s head, reveling in the softness.
"Oh, Buffy, honey, he’s beautiful." Joyce sat on the other side of the bed, still teary-eyed and weepy.
"He is, isn’t he? Look at all that dark hair. My secret’s definitely out now... I’m a bottle blonde."
Joyce chuckled and caressed Marcus’ head gently, enjoying the exquisite feel of baby skin again.
"He’s going to be tall, Rupert." Wilton said with a smile, thinking of his own children.
"He’s gotten off to a good start, hasn’t he?" Giles couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice. A soft knock at the door caused them all to turn.
Father Denning stood peering through the partially closed door. "May I? Or is this a bad time?"
Giles and Joyce looked at Buffy, letting her to decide. "Hey, I gave up being modest when I had to have help getting off the toilet. If breastfeeding doesn’t bother you, Father, come on in."
Father Denning chuckled as he complied. "I was the oldest of six children, and the ready-made baby-sitter for all of them. Nothing that involves child-rearing embarrasses me." He stood at the end of the bed, looking at the happy family with gratitude in his heart. "God has been good to you, this day."
"That He has," Giles acknowledged.
One of the nurses stuck her head back in the door. "It’s nearly eight o’clock, everyone. Visiting hours are over."
"I’m her mother," Joyce said. Wilton didn’t comment, hoping just being with Joyce would be excuse enough.
"I’m their priest."
"And I’m the father."
The nurse grinned widely. "Okay, okay, but if someone screams about all these people in your room, Mrs. Giles, tell ‘em you twisted my arm to let ‘em stay."
"I will. Thanks."
A few minutes later, a bell-like chime came over the loud speaker, and a clear, female voice said, "Visiting hours are now over." The message repeated several times, and from the window, Father Denning could see the parking lot begin to empty of cars.
They chatted for a while longer, and Father Denning was about to say his goodbyes when something pricked the edge of his consciousness. He frowned, trying to draw the niggling into a discernable feeling.
Marcus was asleep, full and content, and Buffy was getting slightly drowsy, herself. Giles noticed the expression on the priest’s face, and sat up. "Denning? What is it? You look as though you’ve sensed something."
Buffy was immediately awake. She handed the sleeping baby to Joyce and sat up. "Rupert, gimme your hand."
The Bond reasserted itself easily, and they closed their eyes as the sphere of awareness spread out from them like ripples on a quiet pond. Beside them, Father Denning concentrated, trying to add his awareness to theirs. Once the Bond extended outside the hospital proper, they began to sense the forces Angel had gathered. The non-humans pulsed with cool light, completely unlike the warmth of a human form.
Wilton and Joyce watched in silence, amazed and disconcerted by the display of supernatural awareness the three of them were exhibiting. Marcus slept on, blissfully unaware of the tension in the room.
* * * * *
Travers and his men began a slow infiltration of the area, hidden with a cloaking spell from the eyes of the average passer-by. Their movements could still be observed, however, and so they were careful, freezing when a pedestrian drew near or a car’s headlights passed across them. No one saw them as they crept towards the five entrances. No one, that is except a certain blue goblin.
Gerard stared at the shifting pattern of movement off to the left of the emergency entrance. He shook his azure head and looked again. His multifaceted eyes identified the cloaked figure as human, and he immediately sounded the alarm. The magic-cloaked human went down under the weight of a gleeful, red skinned demon. The rifle bearing the knock-out canisters was ripped from his arms and tossed into the trash can.
"Hey! Watch it!" an elf shouted, rubbing his head as he looked out over the rim.
Yelps of all sorts, human and inhuman, were heard around the hospital, as the battle was well and truly joined. Buffy and Giles saw the conflict beginning, and strengthened their concentration, hoping to see a way to end the fight before it reached inside.
A tall, lanky nurse marched down the hall carrying a diaper bag and a clipboard. She stashed the diaper bag behind a counter, checking the clipboard one last time before moving down to the mothers’ rooms at the end of the long hall. She passed the nursery, smiling at the tiny figures in their separate bassinets. She was a gentle, compassionate soul. The fact that she could be bought had nothing to do with that.
She pushed her way into the room, ignoring the extra people inside. Her focus was on the pretty little boy baby resting in his grandmother’s arms. She noted, too, that the room phone was disconnected from the wall, and that no one had noticed. She smiled her best caregiver’s smile, and shook her head at the little mother in the bed. "You know that visiting hours are over, Mrs. Giles."
The girl relaxed and dropped her husband’s hand, unable to hold her concentration with a stranger in the room. "I know, but they’re family, and I wanted them to stay until Marcus got through eating." Behind them, Father Denning continued to stare out the window, lost in his awareness of encroaching trouble.
"Well, don’t tell the floor nurse, and I’ll let them stay just a bit longer, but this little guy needs a nap under the Bili Lamp. He was a little blue when he came into this world."
"He was?" Buffy didn’t think he looked blue, but she didn’t argue. Buffy didn’t feel any ‘danger vibes’ coming off this person. She thought for a split second about invoking the Bond again, but decided that was silly. The danger was outside, wasn’t it?
Nurse Collins took the baby from Joyce, gently rocking him as he slept. "He’ll only need about fifteen minutes under the lamp tonight, a couple of treatments tomorrow, and he’ll be just fine. Don’t worry, it’s a common procedure, and he’ll likely sleep through the whole thing. I’ll bring him right back when we’re done." She smiled down at the tiny face and left, heading for the nursery.
********
Downstairs, Angel slammed the phone back onto its cradle. Still no answer! He started back up the stairs, a feeling of dread settling into his chest. ‘I’ll just have to sneak into the room,’ he thought grimly.
********
As soon as the door shut behind Nurse Collins, Father Denning shook himself, coming out of the heavy trance-like state he’d fallen into in sympathetic reaction to the nearness of the Bond. Something was still wrong, he could feel it. ‘God, what is it you’re trying to tell me?" He stilled himself, ignoring Buffy as she tried to talk to him. He held up a hand to silence her.
Giles then realized he’d lost his grip on Buffy’s hand. They’d been apart... distracted... when the nurse had taken the baby out of the room. Fear stabbed into him, causing him to gasp in physical pain. The Bond had been broken, just for a minute, but time enough...
Father Denning realized their mistake as soon as Giles and Buffy did. Instantly, Giles was out the door and running for the nursery, scattering nurses and carts all along the hallway. The priest was right after him, moving more slowly, but with the same urgency. Buffy was scrambling frantically for her clothes, ignoring the fact that Wilton was still in the room.
Joyce was bewildered. "Buffy, what’s wrong?"
"That so-called nurse just took my baby." Buffy found her pants, but couldn’t keep them up. She opted for Giles’ drawstring scrubs, and pulled them tight enough for them to stay in place.
"Wasn’t she supposed to?" Joyce still didn’t get it. "She said..."
"No. She wasn’t supposed to." Buffy pulled her top down, ripping the backless gown off with one motion. She slipped her shoes on and started down the hall, moving easily on the rush of adrenaline and anger. There would be time enough for aches and pains after she knew her child was safe.
Giles’ roar of frustration at finding the nursery crib empty echoed down the hall. The sound galvanized Joyce into action, and she ran after the others, too shocked to cry. Wilton followed her, anger building inside as he realized what had happened. Marcus had been taken from them, from her, out of her arms, right from under their noses. The battle outside was nothing but a diversion.
Angel came out of the stairwell just in time to hear Giles’ cry. He was too late! Swearing at himself, he started down the hall after his friends.
********
Collins emerged from the fire exit, looking across the parking lot for Travers’ van. Off to one side, she could hear the sounds of fighting, but she ignored them. Travers put the vehicle in gear and drove up to her, intending whisk his accomplice and their prize away while the others fought, and possibly died, creating a needed diversion. He really didn’t care, one way or the other. Ground troops were, by definition, expendable.
He braked in front of the nurse and waited for her to get in. She had to shift the baby to her other arm and put down the diaper bag to work the door latch, but she finally got it and opened the door, lifting the bag to put it in the front seat. She was just putting her foot on the running board when a gravelly voice from somewhere around waist high hissed, "Ssssay! Isssn’t that the cutessssst little baby? He doessssn’t look anything like you, ssssister!"
She turned slightly and looked down at the ugliest creature she’d ever seen... three and a half feet of gray-skinned, twisted, white haired troll. He beamed up at her, then he winked at her, the eye disappearing into his wrinkled face . She shrieked and jumped back, involuntarily putting the creature between herself and the van. The diaper bag thudded to the pavement.
The troll cackled happily and rubbed his two oversized hands together. "Thisss mussst be my lucky night. A baby and a broad, all in one ssshot. Fantassssstic!" He punctuated the word by licking his lips and smacking with exaggerated glee.
Nurse Collins had been chosen for her kind face, her expertise with newborns, and her vulnerability to bribery. She had not been chosen for her bravery. She thrust the stirring baby at the troll, and ran screaming down the parking lot, disappearing around the corner.
The troll, though being disgustingly gross and ugly, was not actually a mean creature. He sniffed the baby carefully, and, when satisfied that it was unharmed, turned a malevolent look towards Travers, who was sitting in the idling van, a look of horror on his face. The troll smiled, his teeth dripping with saliva. "Fee, Fie, Fo, Fum, I sssmell the blood of an Englissssshman... and a fat one, at that!" He stopped, and tapped his lumpy head proudly. "The beanssstalk giant ssstole that line from me." He leaned closer, sniffing loudly. "Ahhhh... you had lobssster for dinner... alwayssss helpsss the flavor." He repeated his lip-smacking performance for the Watcher’s benefit.
Travers eeped and floored the gas pedal, the passenger side door banging wildly as the van jumped the curb and he made his getaway. The troll looked down at the tiny human, his head cocked to one side like a dog listening to his master’s voice. "Hello, baby. Now where can we put you until thisss issss all over?" He waddled towards the back of the hospital, looking for a safe place to hide.
********
Travers screeched to a halt near Danson’s van, and was surprised to see the man running towards him, his black clothes in shreds. Travers jumped out and ran to confront him, shaking with fear and rage. "What is going on? You’re supposed to be getting the Slayer!"
Danson eyed Travers coldly, then looked at the empty passenger seat on the van. "Yeah, and you were supposed to be gettin’ the baby, weren’t ya, boss? Looks like we both got jack."
"We have to go back in. The mission must be accomplished, or all we’ve worked for is lost."
"All I’ve worked for is me pension, mate, and if I keep going at this rate, I’m not gonna be alive to collect it. You go get the Slayer." Danson jumped into his car and left Travers standing in a cloud of exhaust fumes.
Travers was livid, his blood pressure shooting off the scale. He threw himself back in the van and drove around to the next perimeter, looking for his carefully trained troops. It took him a few minutes to gather them, and once he had, he realized only about half of them were left, and those remaining weren’t in the best of shape. They were badly beaten, their clothes shredded in a thousand places, and one man had had most of his hair pulled out. He looked like a pathetic, well-worn baby doll with his big blue eyes and scraggly patches of hair. He was sporting a serious shiner. Travers knew they had been defeated, at least on point of strength. But cunning could save the mission, if he could think clearly.
"Men, a troll has the baby at the moment. He frightened our little nurse and grabbed it. If we can locate and subdue the creature, then all we have to do is wait until the Slayer comes looking for her child, which she most certainly will, and we shall have her, as well."
"Uh, boss..." The scraggly-haired man shuffled his feet uneasily. "...how do you subdue a troll?"
*******
Madvekhar the troll was humming softly, soothing the baby, from his hiding place behind the trash bin at the rear entrance, when he spied one of the blue goblin lieutenants hopping by. "Hey, Gerard! Look what I got here!" Madvekhar stood, holding the baby. Marcus was cooing and waving his tiny fists in the air, completely at home with the hideous creature that held him.
Gerard’s head bobbed up and down a few times, and he smiled broadly. "Way to go, Mad! Hey, do ya think it’s too cold out here for the little guy?" Gerard eyed the human child carefully for signs of chilling. Marcus gurgled softly.
"Nah, Ger, I think he’ssss fine. I was jussst worried that the fighting might get too closssse. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to thisss cute little guy. I didn’t think humansss could be ssso cute."
"Me, neither. He looks like your sister, Mad. Without the warts, of course. Okay, did any of the baddies see you with the baby?"
"Yeah, the tweed guy did."
"Okay, they’ll be tracking you, then. Better give the kid to me, and you can throw them off the scent."
The goblin took the baby and shouldered the diaper bag, but it hung past his knees. "Darn, this thing wasn’t made for short guys." He left the bag and sprinted smoothly into the bushes around the doorway.
Madvekhar picked up the bag and strolled off, waiting for the humans to spot him. He was hoping they’d try to subdue him. He really was. Humans would believe anything if it was written down in a dusty old book.
********
Joyce and Wilton alerted security, and the guards immediately tried to intercept Giles and Buffy to ask questions. One look at Giles’ ‘Ripper’ face convinced them to let the two go. Two of the guards dashed after them, and the third stayed to take statements from Father Denning, Joyce and Wilton. Angel headed out front to alert his troops. He knew the kidnappers would try to get the baby away from the hospital as soon as possible.
Giles couldn’t think. The newly formed Bond between himself and his son, still a fragile thread, pulled him towards the back of the hospital. He pounded down the stairs with Buffy on his heels, outdistancing their followers quickly as he followed the tenuous thread of love and life that connected them to their child.
When they got to the bottom of the stairwell, they paused, panting. Giles turned to his wife, his concern for her prompting him to say, "Can you go on? Is it too much?"
She shook her head stubbornly, then paused, reaching out for the traces of Marcus’ presence. She turned her head and pointed. "This way."
They started towards the service doors. Behind them, the two security guards were just now reaching the last landing. When they reached the ground floor, they saw the doors swing shut, and bolted through them, trying desperately to keep up with the angry parents just ahead.
********
Gerard narrowly avoided getting punched by a determined human in black military-style garb. He hopped back, shielding the human baby with his body. Two fairies, unable to physically harm the human, fluttered and shrieked around his head, blocking his vision and tugging at his hair. Gerard was just about to call for backup when an earth demon rose up behind the human and cold-cocked him with one hand.
"Nice timing, Richard!"
"No prob, Ger. I mean, Lieutenant Gerard. And thanks. Can I wait ‘till he comes around, and wrestle with him a little?"
"Fine with me, but right now, I need an escort. I gotta find a safe place for this little baby. There’s too much fighting going on around here."
Richard looked down at the little bundle, and started cooing. "Hey, baby, you sure are cute." After he played with the tiny fingers for a minute, he straightened and said, "Follow me. I know just the place for him." The red creature started out across the lawn with the blue creature and its human cargo right behind.
********
"There he is!" Travers pointed at the troll, and the driver slammed on his brakes and turned into the parking area beside the trash bins. The side door rolled open and two armed men jumped out, looking to Travers for last minute instructions. He pointed at their target and barked, "remember what I said about subduing a troll... and don’t take any chances on harming the child!"
Madvekhar grinned happily. "Oh, goodie. They’ve been reading up on trollssss. Thisss ssshould be fun." He pulled a gnarled club out from under his coat, and continued along as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
By the time the humans realized the troll didn’t have the baby, they could no longer walk.
********
Gerard found the fairy circle easily, and he stepped into it, waiting. A half dozen glowing fairy lights surrounded him, buzzing happily as they recognized him. "Hey, I need you guys to watch the baby for me, just until the fighting is over. Do ya mind?"
One fairy landed lightly on the baby’s shoulder and said, in a tiny, musical voice, "We’ll sing for him, Gerard. He’ll like that. Put him in the circle. Oh, and you might want to commandeer an elf, in case the little human needs a diaper change. We’d do it ourselves, but..." the creature shrugged and held out his tiny hands.
"Yeah, I know. I’ll get Zehdlaf for you, he’s been a grandfather sixteen hundred times. Mad has the diaper bag, I’ll get it."
The fairies took up their stations around Marcus, singing in bell-like tones. Marcus hiccuped, then smiled.
********
Giles raised his head like a wolf sniffing a scent. Buffy was right behind him as he started off to the left. They rounded the corner by the trash bins, and nearly tripped over the writhing men on the sidewalk. Their legs were smashed like matchsticks. Giles paused long enough to grunt, "Tried to subdue a troll, did you? Idiots."
Buffy stepped over the two injured mercenaries nonchalantly. "Never try to subdue a troll."
Giles heard fighting around the corner, and increased his pace. Ripper was just itching for a scrap.
The two security guards stopped beside the injured men to call 911, forgetting for a moment they were already at the hospital.
********
Joyce wrung her hands and wailed, full of self-loathing. "I let her take Marcus right out of my arms! I’m a terrible grandmother! Buffy will never let me touch him again!"
Wilton gathered her into his arms and tried to comfort her. "Now, hon, you know Buffy won’t hold a grudge. We were tricked, all of us. Instead of crying, we should be helping Father Denning pray."
The priest stood by the window, looking out into the brightly lit parking lot as he whispered fervent words of protection and help for his friends. His rosary beads clicked loudly in the quiet room as Joyce tried to control herself.
Wilton fought down another wave of anger. Where were the police when you needed them? It had been almost twenty minutes since Marcus disappeared!
********
Larry Stockton, the newest Sergeant on the Sunnydale Police Force, slammed his hand against his car in frustration. Three police cars sat, lights flashing, just outside the street entrance of the hospital. There was some sort of invisible barrier around the place, and they couldn’t get in. The cars had just stopped, their wheels spinning. Good old Sunnydale... weird to the core!!
He picked up his radio, and reluctantly keyed it. "HQ, this is Sergeant Stockton... we’re gonna need more backup." He looked up the the building, so tantalizingly close, but impossible to reach. He could see several figures engaged in hand-to-hand combat near the front entrance, but he couldn’t tell who... or what... they were. Cars were leaving the parking lot with no problem, but no vehicles were going in. With all the smoke, explosions and strange sounds coming from around the hospital, he didn’t blame people for getting away from there as fast as they could.
The dispatcher asked for details of their trouble. Larry sighed. "You wouldn’t believe me if I told you."
********
Travers stumbled through the woods, his expensive tweed suit torn in several places. He made a mental note to never confront an angry wood nymph again. He’d lost his bearings, and couldn’t remember where he’d left the van. What on earth made him think he could find the child where all of his highly trained troops had failed?
He stopped and tried to calm himself, and once he got his breathing under control, he thought he heard singing off to his right. He cautiously followed the sound to a small clearing. As he peered through the bushes, he couldn’t believe his eyes. A sleeping baby lay in a fairy circle, surrounded by the lilting strains of enchanted music. If it hadn’t been for the circumstances, Travers would have found it charming.
He scooped up the baby, ignoring the stings of the tiny swords as the fairies did their best to fight him off. There were only a dozen of them, a small group, and nothing to worry about. The evil-immersed Watcher shrugged off the creatures, his own dark magic too powerful for them to stop him. He started back for the hospital to look for his getaway van.
********
Dr. Phil squealed back into his parking space at the front of the hospital, and ran towards the doors just as Buffy and Giles came barreling around the corner. "Rupert! Buffy! What’s going on? I was just starting home when the floor nurse called..."
Giles was concentrating on the faint glimmer of awareness tugging at his mind, so Buffy answered shortly, "Someone kidnapped Marcus. We’re tracking him."
"Through the Bond?"
"Yes."
Giles suddenly growled. "He’s moving away... and fast. They must have him in a car."
Phil made an instant decision. He ran back for his modest vehicle. "Come on... let’s go!" The distraught parents dove into the back seat, and Phil burned rubber as he sped away, following the faint trail of connection onto the street. They went through the one-way barrier easily, passing the line of police cars as they flew down the road.
Larry watched the car speed towards him, wondering if he should send someone to give the driver a ticket. Then he recognized Doctor Stevenson as the driver. "I wonder if he knows what’s going on?" He made a quick decision, grabbing one of his officers and pointing to the receding vehicle. "Follow them, no lights. Don’t stop ‘em... just find out where they’re going. I have a feeling they’re involved in this weirdness."
In the car, Phil picked up his cell phone and dialed the hospital switchboard. As soon as they put him through to the Maternity Ward, he asked for Joyce. In a few terse sentences, he laid out the situation for the tearful grandmother, and promised to keep in touch. Then he concentrated on driving.
********
Travers couldn’t believe he’d actually gotten away this time. He wondered if the others had survived, but then decided it didn’t matter. He had sounded the retreat, and he was sure the men who were left would regroup at the motor inn. They would attempt to capture the Slayer there, but if they weren’t successful, then he’d have to be content with just the baby.
The child was quiet, and he was grateful for that. Squalling children grated on his nerves.
The van pulled up to the room, and Travers got out and carried the baby inside. He made a mental note to try and find another nurse, and soon. He had no idea what to do with a baby.
As if sensing that he was in poor hands, Marcus began to cry.
Three other vehicles finally found their way into the small parking lot, pulling in beside Travers’ battered van. As the men started towards the room, they could hear the plaintive wailing of a newborn through the thin walls. Two of them nodded knowingly, but the others blanched and hesitated.
One of the experienced fathers shoved the frozen men in disgust. "C’mon, lads, it’s just a wee tyke. Nothin’ ye can’t handle."
The burly Scot opened the door, and a familiar odor assaulted his nostrils. The men backed away, wincing and coughing as though they’d been gassed.
Travers appeared at the door, holding a monogrammed handkerchief to his face. "Don’t just stand there, you idiots! Find me some diapers!"
********
Angel couldn’t believe he’d let the bad guys get away with Buffy’s baby. He cursed himself roundly as he drove through the streets, knowing they had to be back at the little hotel. He stopped just up the street, and as he jumped out, he was nearly run over by Doctor Phil’s car as it careened around the corner. The physician pulled haphazardly into a parking space, and Buffy shot out, followed by Giles. Angel ran to join them, and the three started towards the hotel without saying a word.
Crouching by his car, Doctor Phil jumped when his cell phone rang. He flipped it open absently, and answered without taking his eyes off the buildings ahead of him. The whole scenario reminding him of ROTC training, except that this was deadly serious.
"Hey, Doc, it’s Xander. I’m a friend of Buffy’s. Where are you guys?"
"At the Sunset Motor Inn. Buffy, Rupert, and another man have gone after the people who took their baby."
"Well, I found a diaper bag on the sidewalk, and I figured they probably needed it. The big baddies probably didn’t think about changing the little guy."
"I’m right at the corner of Sunset and Twenty-First, then. I drove them here in my car. It’s a blue, beat-up looking Chevy."
"I’ll be there in ten minutes," Xander promised.
Behind Phil, a black-and-white stopped just out of sight around the corner, and the officer inside began to relay information back to his leader.
Three figures crouched downwind of the hotel building, hidden behind low lying bushes.
"He’s crying." Buffy’s heart almost broke, but she stayed put, fearing she would put her baby in more danger. Being linked with Giles gave her his level-headedness, and he shared her fire and determination. Together, they made a formidable team. Despite her resolve, tears coursed down her face as she experienced the rending feeling of being apart from her child... the child that had been a literal part of her until just a few hours ago. Beside her, Angel waited for instructions, knowing they couldn’t put the baby at further risk by making a frontal assault.
Giles put a comforting hand on Buffy’s shoulder. "We’ll have him back soon, love, I promise." They watched as the remaining men entered the room, and Giles gave a sharp barking laugh as he realized they had to take out at least six men with weapons, plus their leader, before they could reach their child. "It may take some doing, but we’ll have him back soon." He was holding onto control only by extreme effort, and he knew if he slipped there would be no stopping the rage within him.
"Rupert." Buffy put her hand over his to keep him calm as she voiced her plan. "Let them take me."
"NO! Dear God, Buffy, no..." He grabbed her shoulders fiercely. "I couldn’t..."
"We’ll still be linked. They can’t get away. I can take care of Marcus and protect him."
"But how will I protect you?" His voice was pleading, but he knew from the look in her eyes that there was no further persuasion possible. They searched each other’s faces desperately, communicating with a depth of feeling not possible with mere words.
Suddenly, Angel cocked his head to one side. "Sirens... the police are coming... they’re gonna get in the way."
Buffy looked determined. "Maybe not. They can keep the area secure. I really don’t care as long as they don’t come storming in and hurt Marcus."
"Buffy... please... not both of you, please..." Giles’ voice broke and tears began to trickle down his face.
"Babe, I have to. He needs me. He’s supposed to feed every few hours right now. I’m what he needs, and those creeps know it."
"I need you, too... I need you to be careful, and stay alive, all right?" He hissed the words through clenched teeth, and Angel very nearly started tearing up himself. The Watcher truly loved Buffy, and Angel could hear it, almost sense it. He was very glad he’d gotten himself out of the way, even if it still hurt deeply.
"I better go before the cops try and stop me. Keep ‘em outta my way, guys." She stood tiredly, and enfolded her husband in a tight embrace. "Love you, Rupert."
He tried to hide his tear-streaked face in her hair. "Love you, Buffy. Be safe."
She stepped into the street light and started for the room.
********
"Excuse me, Doctor Stevenson? What are you doing here?"
Phil turned and saw a familiar man wearing a blue uniform. "Larry! I’m surprised to see you! Hannah’s only been home for a week or so, hasn’t she?"
The big cop smiled. "She’s doing great, but when I heard some creeps had kidnapped a newborn baby, I couldn’t just sit around and listen to the scanner. I kept thinking, ‘What if it was my baby out there?’" He squatted beside the Doctor’s car and motioned his men into defensive positions. "What’s going on?"
"You’ll have to trust that all I say has been confirmed, and I’m not completely crazy."
"Hey, Doc, I’ve seen some of your patients. I’m not gonna say a word."
"Okay, here’s the scoop." Phil sketched the story out for the policeman, and when he finished, Larry nodded thoughtfully. "Giles, huh... I’ve seen him in action a time or two, although the stuff he’s mixed up in doesn’t usually make it into our regular reports. Not that anyone would believe us, anyway."
"Oh, Sweet Lord, Buffy’s going to... oh, no..." Phil watched with horror as the slight blonde knocked on the door and raised her hands in surrender. She was snatched into the room before anyone could react.
Larry grabbed his radio and barked, "All units, we now have a double hostage situation... someone needs to locate Mr. Rupert Giles, the baby’s father. We have reason to believe he’s on the grounds now, trying to find a way into the room." He paused and listened to the crackle of voices for a minute or two, then looked up as a red-eyed Giles slid into place behind the car, followed by Angel. Larry could’ve sworn he’d seen the younger man before, but he couldn’t quite place him. "All units, Mr. Giles has been located." He nodded at Giles and said, "I’m Sergeant Stockton. What’s going on?"
Angel made a quick decision. "I’m going for backup. Be right back." He was gone before Giles could comment.
Giles relaxed visibly, leaning back against the car with his head in his hands. "Buffy has Marcus. He’s unharmed. Thank God." Without explaining just how he knew those details, he raised his head and told the policeman sadly, "Officer, for the moment, there’s nothing to be done. An evil and determined group of men have my wife and my child. They will not hesitate to harm them if they are threatened, I assure you."
"You know these people, Mr. Giles?" Larry whipped out a small notebook and began jotting the details down.
"I’m afraid I do, Officer. Or, at least, at one time, I thought I knew them. Now..." He shook his head slowly. "Now, they are the enemy."
Phil rested his hand on Giles’ shoulder in sympathy, then asked, "so, what now, Rupert? What’s the plan?"
Giles turned bloodshot eyes towards Phil. "I haven’t one."
Another car pulled up, staying safely behind the police line. Xander waved the diaper bag and Sergeant Stockton motioned him over before walking a few steps away to answer his radio.
"Curbside delivery!" Xander held up the diaper bag in triumph.
"I’m afraid you’re too late, Xander."
"Oh, man..." Xander sank to his knees beside Giles. "You don’t mean..."
Phil finished for the exhausted father, "Buffy’s gone inside. The kidnappers have them both."
"But they don’t have diapers. Or Wet Wipes..."
Angel returned, an enigmatic smile on his face. "Everyone’s on their way, except the fairies. They can’t leave their grove. They said they’d sing a song for us, just for luck."
Something about that statement caught Giles’ attention. Fairy singing could be soothing, especially to children, but could be quite strident and piercing if the wrong person stumbled upon their protected fairy circle. It was one of their defense mechanisms. Hmmm.
Giles’ eyes lit up, and Xander knew that look. "Uh oh, G-Man’s got an idea."
"Don’t call me that. Phil, do you remember Father Denning’s sermon from the day we visited the church... the day we first met?" He let his head fall against the door of the police car and laughed soundlessly. "You can pick up some remarkable things in church."
"What???" Phil was thoroughly confused.
Giles took the diaper bag and smiled a very Ripperish smile. "Angel, are there fairies living in the trees behind the hotel?"
Angel’s face took on a blank look, then he snapped to attention. "Could be. I’ll go check." He was gone again in a flash.
Phil was still confused. "What do you want with fairies, Rupert?"
Giles’ grin grew wider. "They’re going to sing for us." He began to relay his plan to Buffy via their mental link, and felt her approval and confidence bolster his tired soul.
********
The phone rang, startling the men in the crowded room. Buffy was busy with Marcus, and they paid little attention to her.
Travers grabbed the receiver, and barked, "What?" He listened for a few seconds, then nodded. "All right, but if you try to rush the room, Sergeant, you will find two very dead hostages in here when you arrive." He replaced the phone on its hook and ordered the man guarding the door, "A man is coming with the diaper bag for the child. Take it, but do not let him in." Travers’ mind was rapidly running through possible scenarios, trying to find a way out of the trap they were in. As long as they had the baby and the Slayer, he felt sure they could think their way out.
********
Xander’s knees were shaking badly, but he managed to deliver the bag without incident. When he got back to the car, he collapsed onto the curb, still trembling. "Man, oh, man... I know I’m supposed to be military guy, but the sight of those uzis starin’ me in the face did nothing for my confidence, not to mention my bladder control."
* * * * *
Inside the room, Buffy was carefully sorting through the bag. She found everything she needed, and she began the process of cleaning up Marcus’ dirty diaper. She talked softly to him as she worked. "Sorry if I’m not too good at this, sweetie baby, but you left before the class started. I’m just gonna have to wing it, okay? I hope I’m doing this right..."
The burly Scot overheard her remarks, and came towards her, holding his weapon out of the way. "Yer doin’ fine, Lass... mother instinct takes over pretty quick." He paused and looked down at the gurgling child. "He’s a right bonny laddie, he is."
Buffy smiled at the mercenary. Marcus screwed his face into a mass of tiny lines, and began to cry.
The Scot laughed softly. "He’s a hungry laddie, too, poor tyke."
"Yeah, I know." Buffy turned away from the men in the room. "D’ya mind? It’s dinner time, and I’m dinner." Obediently, the men moved to the front of the room, leaving her to begin nursing.
She nudged the bag until it was out of the others’ line of sight, and whispered, "Okay, you guys, wait until I give the signal, and come out singing."
A tiny face peered out from the diaper bag. A tiny hand came up in the universal "Okay" sign, and Buffy grinned.
********
Larry had long since decided that Sunnydale was not a normal beat. He listened to Giles’ cockamamie idea, and found himself agreeing with it. What else could he do? He wasn’t the one with a telepathic wife and a gaggle of friendly fairies.
Angel’s strange forces had arrived, much to the discomfiture of the police officers. The sight of a red earth demon in full game face chatting with several nervous cops made Xander want to laugh. He stifled the impulse, knowing if he started laughing now, he’d probably end up in tension-induced hysteria. The smaller, slimmer goblins decided to try to infiltrate the air ducts, just in case things went wrong and Buffy needed help. Giles was all for that plan, so Gerard and his counterpart slithered down the long vents until they got to the room. From their vantage point, they could see the Slayer and her baby clearly. She was rocking Marcus to sleep. The tiny newborn waved a fist and yawned tiredly, giving in to the soothing motion. It wouldn’t be long now, Gerard guessed, settling into position.
Buffy looked over at Travers and remarked, in a conversational voice, "I heard the neatest story the other day."
Travers looked at her in surprise. It was the first time she’d addressed him since she came into the room.
"It was about this little country that was being invaded by three other big, bad countries. They were outnumbered and outgunned, and they were scared to death. So you know what they did?"
The men were intrigued, despite their desperate situation. They found themselves listening to her while trying to keep watch out the window.
"I bet you can’t guess."
Travers was determined not to be duped by this insolent slip of a girl, but he found himself saying, "I would imagine they prepared an ambush."
Buffy laughed softly. "Nope."
The big Scot hazarded his own guess. "They surrendered?"
Buffy shook her head and smiled. "Guess again."
One of the men in the front said, "So what happened?" His buddy nudged him sharply, but the man glared back. "I’d like to know, all right?"
Buffy had them right where she wanted them. "Okay, here’s what happened. The King and all his advisor guys got together and had a powwow. They knew they were dog meat. They decided to have a big prayer meeting and ask their God what to do. He told them to go out and meet the enemy just like they had a huge army with them. When they got there, the bad guys were waiting, and there were so many of ‘em, you couldn’t see the end of the line of soldiers in either direction. So, guess what the good guys did then?"
Travers said, "I have no idea. What could they possibly do, except die?"
"They didn’t die. They didn’t even lose a single man."
Every eye in the room was on Buffy. They didn’t even glance at the diaper bag behind her.
"You’re makin’ this up." One of the men narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Nope. Every word is true. Historic fact."
"So, what did they do?"
She grinned widely. "They sent in the choir."
Several dozen brilliant points of light shot out of the diaper bag, their tiny voices shrill and grating instead of being soothing. The fairies sang a harsh, abrasive melody that filled the small room and grew in volume until the men were holding their ears in agony. One of the men swung at a fairy and decked his partner instead. The men dropped their weapons and began swatting and swearing, doing more harm to each other than to the tiny singers surrounding them. During the confusion, Buffy slipped into the cramped bathroom and locked the door behind her, climbing into the bathtub with Marcus cradled in her lap. She only hoped the thin walls would afford them some protection if things got ugly.
Outside the room, Giles shouted, "NOW!" and burst through the door like it was paper mache. He threw himself into the tangle of disoriented men, tossing the first one out the door like a rag doll into the waiting arms of Sunnydale’s Finest. Larry sent two of his men into the room behind Giles, and the fighting began in earnest. There was no time or room for the mercenaries to recover their weapons, so they fell into hand-to-hand combat. The two policemen struggled out, each with a handcuffed prisoner, then got ready to dive back into the action.
Giles fought like a dervish, flattening his opponents with cold efficiency. Larry just had time to handcuff one kidnapper before Giles sent another crashing down beside him. He looked up at one of his men in awe. "Remind me never to make that guy mad." The officer nodded in agreement as another unconscious man plopped down between them. Suddenly, there were no more mercenaries. That left only the leader still in the room. Giles turned back to the room, his eyes blazing as he looked for the man who’d caused him such horror and pain.
Travers, being the natural coward he was, fell into the corner and huddled behind the bed, searching frantically for a discarded weapon. His hand grazed the handle of a .44 magnum automatic pistol. He thumbed the hammer and took careful aim, then screamed, "STOP! Rupert, stop, this instant, or I’ll end this right NOW!"
Giles froze, his eyes following the man’s aim to the small locked bathroom. He knew Buffy and the baby were in there. He also knew the plaster walls were no match for such a powerful weapon. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he backed away, hands raised at his sides.
"That’s much better," the Councilman sneered. "I’ve had quite enough of your interference, Rupert. You’ve managed to become quite a thorn in my side. I’m about to pluck that thorn." He swung the barrel away from the bathroom and square at Giles’ chest. "Say goodbye to your hellspawn and your heretic Slayer, Rupert. At least you’ll be spared watching them die." He began to squeeze the trigger, not caring that there was no escape for himself. Quentin Travers was over the edge now, his only thought on removing Giles and the poison he carried with him from the Council ranks.
Above Travers in the air vent, the blue goblin decided it was time to get involved. Goblins weren’t terribly brave as a rule, but Gerard was a Lieutenant, after all. He kicked the vent grate outward, distracting the man momentarily. The next thing Travers knew, his vision was blocked completely by a blue blur as the goblin jumped on his shoulders and wrapped long arms around the human’s face and eyes. The .44 went off, deafening everyone in the room.
"Oh, God!" Buffy froze, horrified, not knowing who, or what, had been shot. Marcus jumped at the noise, and his eyes went wide with fright. He began to wail, the heartbreaking sound echoing through the tiny tiled room. There was a moment of complete stillness, and Buffy couldn’t reach Giles... she couldn’t breathe...
Larry pulled his weapon and edged up to the hotel room door, dreading what he would find. Behind him, one of his men took up second position, and they swung into the opening, guns at the ready.
Travers was on the floor holding what was left of his bloody foot, too much in shock to do more than whimper. The discharged weapon was safely out of reach, but Larry kicked it out the door, just to be safe. Giles was in the process of ripping the locked bathroom door right out of its frame. Once he had tossed the splintered wood aside, he wrapped his arms around his wife and child and began crying tears of relief. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead, and the child hushed immediately.
Buffy’s eyes grew round as she surveyed the damaged opening. "Rupert... Oh, thank God you’re okay... we’re okay. I’m okay, and Marcus is okay. Wow, babe, you did a number on that nasty ol’ door, didn’cha? I hate to see what the rest of the room looks like."
He held her back, wanting to see with his own eyes that they were both unharmed. He shuddered violently, overwhelmed, then recovered enought to retort, "we’ll charge the damage to Travers’ Council Expense Account."
Buffy grinned, then stood on tiptoe to kiss her valiant husband. Marcus hiccuped, made a tiny, mewing sound, then went back to sleep, secure in his mother’s arms.
********
Thanks to Doctor Phil’s intervention, Giles, Buffy and Marcus were escorted back to the hospital and given a private room. He insisted that the trauma of their child’s near abduction would only be heightened if they were kept apart. The police chief reluctantly agreed, and the hospital adminstrator was only too happy to accomodate the Giles family in any way that kept them from suing the hospital for negligence.
After Larry had taken their statements and left, Joyce, Wilton, and the two Slayerettes filed in, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Buffy met Joyce halfway across the room and the decision came down on the side of tears. Willow joined them immediately, and the three women sobbed with relief as the men fought back the urge to join them.
There were two beds in the room, with Marcus in a clear bassinette between them. Giles was laying down, exhausted from the fight and feeling more than a little sore from going through empathetic birth pains.
Willow, ever compassionate, went to Giles’ side and took his hand. "Hey, Giles, are you okay?"
He smiled tiredly. "I am now, Willow. I am now."
Xander put a companionable hand on the man’s shoulder. "I have to say I was impressed, G-Man. You showed some serious moves out there."
"Thank you, Xander, and don’t call me that." Giles said automatically. There was a sudden sharp cry from the bassinette, and Giles was up in an instant. He picked up his son, gently cradling him in his arms. Marcus knew his father’s touch, and quieted down to stare at Giles’ face. Buffy looked relieved, and went back to her conversation with her mother.
Giles smiled and stroked the infant’s chin gently. Marcus smiled back.
Suddenly, Buffy looked over at the door, a strange look on her face. She glanced at Giles, who smiled gently and nodded. Before anyone could comment on their odd behavior, Buffy slipped out the door and made her way to the fire exit. As she had sensed, Angel was waiting for her there.
"Hi, Angel." Her voice was steady and warm.
"Hey, Buffy. I just wanted to be sure you were okay."
"I am. We are... thanks to you and your friends out there."
Angel ducked his head. "The whole thing was a diversion. I should have known..."
She touched his shoulder lightly. "We should have known... Giles and I. We’re the one with the Super-Bond Radar, remember? We got side-tracked, just like you did. It’s nobody’s fault the bad guys were smart, this time."
"Thanks. I wish you hadn’t gone through that..."
"Me, too. Listen, come in and let Giles say thank you... he wants to."
"No, it’s okay." He thought a moment, then a slight smile crossed his handsome face. "Cordelia’ll probably send him a bill."
They both laughed softly at that. Angel began to ease towards the exit. "I gotta go... duty calls back in LA."
"I know... it’s just... it was good to have you on our side, Angel."
He smiled sadly and took her hand for a brief moment. "I’ll always be on your side, Buffy, forever. Don’t you forget it."
Then he was gone. Buffy watched the door swing slowly closed, then went back to the room and her living, breathing family.
Willow and Xander were playing with the now wide awake baby in Giles’ arms when Buffy came back into the room. "Awww... Xander, isn’t he just the cutest thing?" Willow immediately went to baby-talk land, cooing and babbling.
"I still think he looks like Giles." He looked up directly into the stern eyes of the Ex-Watcher. He blanched. "Not that that’s a bad thing..." he backpedaled frantically.
"Giles, you’re so good with him already! I knew you’d be a great daddy." Willow gave the tall man a hug, beaming at him proudly.
"He’s the best, Will." Buffy took his other side, crossing her arm under Willow’s and giving her husband a kiss on the cheek.
A soft knock on the door interrupted the Kodak moment, and Buffy went to the door, wondering who it could be. There wasn’t anybody left that meant anything to either of them, besides Buffy’s father, who never showed up at any important events, anyway, and...
"Cedrick! Oh, my God!" Buffy threw her arms around her father-in-law, startling him badly. "Oh, sorry, I know it’s not British to hug, but I’m so glad to see you!"
Giles, still holding Marcus comfortably, strode across the room and gave his father a hearty handshake. A genuine smile of happiness spread across his face as he beckoned the older man into the room. "Welcome, Father. Let me introduce you to my California family..."
"It’s good to know I am welcome, Rupert," Cedrick said dryly, the twinkle in his eyes contradicting his cool tone as he greeted each person in the room. "I was afraid that anyone related to the Council in any way would be soundly trounced upon setting foot in the room. I must say, you’ve got quite a following here. And this must be my grandson. What did you name him, finally?" Cedrick surprised the entire room by expertly taking the baby from his son and holding him confidently. "Hello, there, little one."
"Marcus Everett," Buffy supplied happily.
"Excellent name."
"Roughly translated, it means ‘strength in battle,’" Giles offered.
Cedrick nodded, satisfied. "I like it." He bounced the cooing baby gently for a minute more, then handed him back to Buffy. "I have some Council business to attend to, then I’ll be back for a proper visit. How soon will you be going home, dear?"
Buffy was shaking her head as he spoke, smiling. "There goes that echo business again. It’s not so bad, now that I’m expecting it."
Willow had to ask, "What echo business?"
Giles explained briefly, which was a surprise to them all. "Father shared the Bond with his Slayer, and the remnant of that connection echoes in us when we are together."
Buffy beamed up at Giles. "Good job, babe. You said that in one sentence. I’m impressed. And, we’re going home tomorrow, to answer the question you started with, Cedrick."
"That soon?" Cedrick smiled fondly at his daughter-in-law. "Of course, you are a Slayer."
"Do you think Marcus has the Bond with you guys, Giles?" Willow asked, fascinated by the possibilities the Bond presented.
Giles smiled at his son, remembering how Buffy and he tracked him through the streets as if following a road map. "I’m almost sure of it," he said softly.
"Okay, I’m beat. I don’t know why, it’s only..." Xander consulted his watch. "...Three-thirty in the morning. I’m gonna go crash. Will? Need a ride?"
"Yeah, thanks, Xand. Mister Giles, it was great meeting you. I’d love to talk to you sometime about the Council. I have a few ideas..."
Giles began to chuckle. "She’s determined to drag us kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century."
"Ah." Cedrick’s eyes twinkled. "Well, I will be in town for several days. I look forward to chatting with you, Miss Rosenberg."
Willow and Xander started out, exchanging hugs with Buffy on the way. Xander even hugged Giles, causing him to blush slightly, but he clapped the young man on the shoulder warmly before he went out the door.
"We should go, too, Buffy, and let you get some rest. You’ve had quite a busy day! We’ll be back in the morning to help you get Marcus ready to go home." Joyce hugged her daughter and Wilton escorted her out the door.
"What Council business?" Buffy asked as soon as the room was clear, throwing Cedrick with one of her patented lightning changes of subject.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I meant, what brings you here? Besides Marcus, of course."
"Ah. Well, your kidnappers are to be extradited back to England, and I was the one chosen to lead the team that will bring them back."
Giles smiled. A typical Council response... they sent a security detail even before they knew what the outcome would be. It didn’t matter now, anyway. Travers and his men would be dealt with, and by swift-acting Council Law. He wondered how his father would persuade local authorities to place the criminals in his custody. Giles suspected his father had a perfectly valid Interpol license, on top of his Council credentials.
Cedrick shifted his weight uncomfortably, knowing his next statement wouldn’t make the two of them very happy. "I’d like to tell you that Travers was working alone, Rupert, but I’d be giving false comfort. We are now in an intense internal investigation to discover the other members of this little subversion. When Watchers conspire to harm their own, as well as bringing harm to those we have sworn to uphold and protect..."
"I have full confidence that you will set things right, Father. But we shall remain vigilant, in any case."
"That is always wise."
Marcus began to fuss, and Buffy glanced at her watch. "Time sure flies when you’re having fun. It’s almost feeding time again... every three hours." She grinned happily. "Good thing I have the summer off. I’m not gonna be getting much sleep for a while. Sorry, Grandpa, but we’ll have to talk to you later, okay?"
Giles said his goodbyes to Cedrick and put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the doorknob. Buffy settled herself on the bed and watched contentedly as her baby began his meal. It was getting easier, now that she knew what to expect. Giles slid next to her, balancing himself so he could keep contact with both Buffy and the baby. He caressed the tiny head, his heart full to bursting with love and gratitude.
"He’s a handsome fella, just like his daddy," she murmured happily.
"I was just thinking he looked more like his mother."
"He’s a combination." She looked at her husband, evaluating his expression and the intense emotions pouring out of him. "Go on, babe, say it."
He looked up at her, a half-smile on his face.
"You know you want to. Go ahead."
He grinned widely. "You know me too well." He pressed a kiss atop Marcus’ head, and said, in a clear, rich voice, "My son."
"Feel better?" She teased, and gave him a soft kiss. After watching her child for another moment, she looked at Giles again, her face full of questions. "I wonder if he’ll have my strength and your smarts? If he’ll get sick like normal babies?"
"He is a normal baby, love. You heard Doctor Phil... every vital sign was perfectly normal."
"But will he always be normal? ‘Cause I could go bonkers waiting for him to fly, or bend the bars of his playpen..."
He silenced her musings with a gentle, thorough kiss. She felt enfolded in love, her baby at her breast and her husband at her side. When he released her lips, he whispered softly, "I love you beyond words, my darling. I am so proud of you, and of our beautiful son. I don’t know what he will be. This is uncharted territory for us, as it is with all new parents. Frankly, I don’t care if he ends up being completely normal in every way... if he chooses to play sports instead of loving books, or decides to become a rock star instead of a museum curator, or never stakes a vampire in his life... I will still love him, and his mother, more than my own life. To quote Father Denning, ‘God has been good to me this day.’"
That’s when Buffy knew, for sure, that she’d found it. It was reflected in the eyes of the most loyal and loving person she’d ever known, and in the quiet breathing of the newest person in her life. No matter where they were, or what happened in the future, she knew Heaven right here on earth. This was her family, now, and the thought was amazingly sweet.
The Bond between the three of them sang with indescribable joy.
* * *