“I’m pregnant.”
Every thought in his mind vanished, leaving an echoing void until on entirely stupid thought popped in. “We’re not married.”
She let out a short laugh. “Yes, I know that. And now that I think of it, you probably never had Sex Ed, but let me assure you. Marriage is not what makes babies. And there’s no stork either.”
“We have to get married.”
Her heart swelled but her eyes worried at his lack of response to their new situation. “I was hoping that would be your response…but we can talk about that later. Are you okay?”
His eyes flicked to hers, noted the worry, and guilt took over. Taking her hand in his he squeezed it, forcing himself to concentrate not on his own incredulity but instead to focus on her. Don’t be a jackass. She needs you. This is a good thing.
“I just can’t believe it. So soon,” he told her sincerely, a hint of a smile on his lips.
Her eyes searched his. “But…it’s okay, right? This isn’t bad news?”
Astonishment covered his face. “No, of course not. Unexpected, but not bad…never bad…it’s…it’s great.” To his relief he realized that he was sincere…it was great. Wonderful. Perfect.
His beautiful face broke out into a joyful smile and he pulled her to him suddenly, hugging her with all his strength. “God…a baby. We’re going to have a baby. You and me. Together.”
She laughed easily as she returned his embrace. “Who woulda thought?”
Easing her back he cupped her face in his huge hands. “The Triumphant.”
She nodded. “The prophecy. I guess the Powers didn’t waste any time on this one.”
He traced his thumb over her cheek. “It will still be a child. Yours and mine. Parts of both of us. That’s what really makes it special. Not some prophecy.”
“Can you imagine?” she asked, smiling through tears that suddenly sprang up. “Blondish-brown hair, green eyes.”
“Brown. Dominant gene,” he explained off her look.
“Brown eyes,” she agreed, “Devastatingly beautiful, like her mom.”
“Strong and strapping like his father,” Angel corrected.
“What makes you think it’s a boy?” she asked teasingly, leaning back.
His brow furrowed. “I don’t have any feelings right now. Except for this nervous pit of energy that seems to have rooted itself in my stomach.”
She smiled, shining eyes meeting his happy ones. “Me too. Or it could be morning sickness.”
“It’s night,” he observed, confused.
“Oh, Dad. You have so much to learn. But I’ve got books. We’ll learn together.”
He looked at her suspiciously. “How long have you known about this?”
She smiled secretively. “Not long. Two weeks maybe. I wanted to be sure.”
“And you are?” he murmured, a desire to nibble on her earlobe suddenly consuming him.
She shivered in delight as his lips trailed up her neck. “One-hundred percent,” she whispered. “Six weeks along.”
“Good.”
Before his lips could move any further she pushed him back abruptly. “Wait. You’re taking this awfully well.”
He grinned wolfishly and gently lay her back on the bed. “You’d prefer if I was freaking out?” he asked, hovering above her, planting kisses wherever his lips happened to fall.
“No…mmm….no,” she moaned. “I’m glad you’re glad. I’m just surprised is all.”
He propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down at her. “Buffy, I’ve had a few months to think about this. It’s not like us having kids someday is new. We learned about the prophecy seven months ago.”
Her eyes sought his. “I know…I just--”
“Do you know that the entire time we were working to figure out about my Shanshu…and from the moment Laren walked back into my life…the only thing on my mind, after your safety, was that someday I was going to have a child with you? Something that I’d never dared dream of before. Something that was absolutely not going to happen when I was a vampire.”
“And that wouldn’t happen when I was a vampire,” she murmured.
He nodded. “I’m ready for this. It wasn’t what I was expecting when I walked in the door tonight…but it’s still wonderful news.”
She smiled sheepishly up at him. “I love you.”
He grinned. “I love you too. Both of you,” he said as he began trailing kisses down her neck, between the curves of her breasts, down to her stomach where he stopped and lay his head. “Hard to believe there’s a person in there.”
“Actually, it’s just a little dot right now…I’ll show you in the books. But yeah…in nine months, eight, actually, it will be.”
He sighed contentedly and turned his head to look at her. “So what else do these books say?”
She looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…is this seduction scene allowed, or will it hurt the baby?” he grinned saucily.
She returned his smile. “Oh, it’s perfectly allowed. Encouraged, even.”
Angel moved up to cover her body with his, clutching both her hands in his. “Thank God.”
***
The wedding took place at sunset, outdoors, in Sunnydale Park. Dozens of candles lit the area, sparkling in the eyes of the guests and the intended. There were no attendants, just the two of them, though Giles did give her away as expected. In folding chairs sat Cordelia and Gunn, Oz and Willow, Xander and Anya and their children, Wesley and Chelsea, Faith and Spike and Giles and Olivia. Each row of chairs was marked with a small ribbon, the name of a loved one hung on each; Joyce, Dawn, Tara and Doyle, the people who had been such important parts of their lives but could not be there to see what they had helped create.
Cordelia bawled through the entire ceremony. Buffy was proud to make it up until the vows, when Angel spoke his in his native Irish tongue. Two lines into it the tears began to fall even though she had no idea what he was saying…but she knew in her heart. Sincerity flowed, entwined with love as he spoke, his eyes never leaving hers.
Afterwards they went to the Bronze for their reception, complete in wedding attire. As a gift to them, Gunn arranged to have his friends from LA come down to Sunnydale so that both Slayers could have the night off to enjoy the festivities. They danced until dawn then lounged around on the couches telling stories of their adventures in high school, college, and in their separate cities that had them all laughing. With the exception of Buffy, each person was more than a little bit tipsy. The night was winding down when Wesley completely missed his chair and fell onto the floor as he tried to sit, starting them all off again.
Later that night, back home in their bedroom. Angel sneaked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, placing his hands, as he had come accustomed to doing lately, on her now slightly pooched belly.
“Happy?” he murmured in her ear.
“Yes,” she purred, closing her eyes and leaning into him.
“Do ya care to go to bed then, Mrs. Quinn?” he asked, adopting his long-abandoned brogue that he now knew drove her wild.
“I most certainly do, Mr. Quinn,” she grinned, shivering in anticipation. “Mr. and Mrs. Liam Patrick Quinn. Liam and Buffy. Buffy and Liam,” she tested, frowning. “I’ve never said it that way.”
“Buffy and Angel,” he suggested, placing lazy kisses over her collar bone. “Liam is just a name.”
“Angel’s who you are,” she agreed, turning slowly to meet his lips with her own.
***
Pregnancy did not go smoothly for Buffy. Morning sickness took over in her third month and didn’t let her rest until her sixth. Back pain and bloating, swollen ankles and tender muscles replaced it.
“I’m the freakin’ Slayer. Why should life as a pregnant woman be any easier than my regular life?” she complained one night, walking home with Faith. Walking often helped calm the energetic baby down and eased her back pain slightly. Angel usually accompanied her on these walks but Faith, Spike, Willow and Oz had all been over for dinner that night and Faith offered to go with her, leaving Willow and the men struggling over how to assemble a crib.
“Maybe because you’re nine months pregnant and you’re supposed to be large as a house and completely uncomfortable?”
Buffy shot her a look. “Not funny. Just wait until it’s you.”
Faith grinned. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, B. Do you see me being the nurturing kind? Plus…Spike…well, we can practice a lot, but he’s never going to be one to make it to the big game, if you know what I mean.”
Buffy rolled her eyes and waddled down the street. “Right. Vampire. He’s a vampire. It was so much easier when Angel was a vampire. Didn’t have to worry about pregnancy then.”
“Yeah…just that he’d lose his soul and kill you and all your friends,” Faith reminded her.
“But that I knew how to deal with,” Buffy snapped but without much feeling.
“Sorry, sorry…” Faith apologized.
They continued to walk, Buffy’s house not much further. “So, what names you got picked out?” Faith asked.
“Well…Angel really seemed to like the idea of picking Irish names. So we’re going with Gavin Michael if it’s a boy and Abigail Katherine if it’s a girl. But we’d call her Abby.”
“Abby and Gavin. Abby and Gav…” Faith mused. “I like ‘em.”
“Thanks…I know Angel’s secretly hoping it’s a boy. He just can’t seem to” Buffy stopped abruptly.
“Can’t seem to…?”
“Can’t seem to…ooohhh,” she moaned, clutching her stomach.
“You okay?” Faith asked.
Buffy looked up at her with grave eyes. “I don’t feel good.”
“The baby…? Oh god.” Faith looked around wildly. “Ok. Let’s get you back to the house.”
“I can’t…I can’t walk,” Buffy said, swaying on her feet. Faith grabbed her and lifted her up.
“I’ll get you there,” she swore and began walking steadily down the street. When they reached the house Buffy was unconscious.
“Hang in there, hang on,” Faith ordered, kicking open the door and screaming for Angel. She met them on the stairs as they were halfway down.
“It’s Buffy.”
A moan came from the living room. “Is she in labor?” Willow asked excitedly.
Faith’s look betrayed her. “I—I don’t know.
Angel and crew came barreling down the stairs to find Buffy now whimpering in pain, sweat beaded on her forehead as she lay on the couch. He rushed to her side and knelt, placing a palm to her forehead. Lightly he slapped her face. “Buffy…Buffy. Wake up. Talk to me.”
“I’ll call an ambulance,” Oz offered, grabbing the cordless phone.
“Screw that, we’ll drive her ourselves. Paramedics take too long,” Spike snarled and helped Angel lift her off the couch. “Harris, get the car,” he ordered and Xander scrambled outside.
They loaded Buffy into the car gingerly, Spike hopping behind the wheel. “I’m drivin’,” he announced and took off, Willow and Oz following closely behind in his van.
At the hospital Angel picked Buffy up out of the car and rushed her inside, remembering all to well when he had done this years ago. She was a lifeless in his arms then as she was now and it was terrifying him.
Faith rushed to the admitting desk. “She needs help. Help her. She’s having a baby. Something’s wrong.”
The nurse looked up, took in the sight of the extremely pregnant girl lying rag doll-like in the arms of an obviously upset father-to-be, and shot out of her chair. “Jared, Cindy!” she called. “Help me!”
The three medical workers wheeled over a gurney and Angel gently placed Buffy on it before grabbing her hand and jogging down the hall with them as they wheeled her into a room.
Nervously the others took seats in the waiting room.
***
“Who’s her doctor?” Cindy asked Angel as they wheeled her into the birthing room.
“DeSilva,” he told her.
“He’s on call tonight. We’ll get him.”
“Due date?”
“April 3.”
The nurse nodded. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. She was out walking…her back hurts and the baby’s been kicking a lot lately, so she goes on walks. She was almost home and then she just started to get sick.”
“Vomiting? Nausea? Cramps? Blood in the urine? Complaining of headaches?” the nurse shot at him.
He shook his head. “No…not for a while. She’s been fine. A friend carried her back to the house and that’s when I first saw her,” he answered, voice shaking.
Cindy lay a hand on his arm. “She’ll be okay.”
He glanced at her, barely hearing the words, and nodded.
“Now, please…step back, let us work,” she told him as doctors and nurses began flooding the room. Ominous-looking medical equipment was pulled out and attached to Buffy. A heart monitor was placed on her, as was a mask to help her breath. Saline and blood were brought in and all the while Angel paced, standing back, for once completely helpless where Buffy was concerned.
“She’s not on anything? Her pregnancy’s been normal?” a doctor shouted over the ruckus.
Angel went to answer him when the doors opened suddenly and Dr. DeSilva entered. “She’s completely healthy,” he told his colleague. His calm eyes caught Angel’s panicked ones and he smiled. “Angel…she’ll be okay.”
“Fix her now,” Angel growled.
The doctor moved to his patient, nonplussed. “What do we have?” he asked a nurse and she relayed what they had found in the ten minutes since Buffy had been brought in.
“Sounds like she threw a clot,” DeSilva murmured. “We’re going to have to deliver the baby, now.”
Angel’s hearing was a good as ever. “Threw a clot…what does that mean?”
DeSilva’s eyes ticked to him. “She must have formed a blood clot along the way and it traveled. Where it went we don’t know. But we’ll find out.”
“A clot…it cut off her blood?” Angel asked, his head spinning as he clutched the railing of her bed for support. “To the baby?”
DeSilva placed a hand on his arm. “No. The baby’s heartbeat is still strong, but the longer she’s out the more risk we put the child at. We need to deliver the baby now, Angel.”
Angel turned and looked at Buffy, the arms of medical personnel stretched over her as they worked. Her dress had been removed and a gown hastily thrown on her, her head lolling to the side, lips parted. The sound of the heart monitors, for both the baby and for Buffy, pounded in his ears. Finally he nodded and backed away.
Cindy approached him. “It would be best for you to wait, sir. We’ll come and get you the minute she’s done.”
“I’m not leaving,” he said, low and dangerously.
Cindy glanced at DeSilva, who nodded. “Ok, then…you’ll need to back away please. Stay over here until we’re done. I…I have to warn you that there will be some blood. We’ll do a cesarean on her since there’s no time to induce labor.”
Angel almost laughed. “I can handle blood. Just save her.”
The doctors went to work.
***
“What is going on?” Faith snapped as she paced up and down the waiting room. Willow sat in a chair next to Oz, wringing her hands. Xander was on the phone letting Anya, Cordelia and the others know what was going on.
“They’re coming down here,” he announced when he hung up the phone. “Be here in a few hours. Anya’s getting my mom to watch the kids and she’ll be here too.”
They nodded but said nothing until the doors opened a moment later and Cindy walked out. All five of them rushed to her. “How is she?” Xander asked gruffly.
“She’s had a blood clot that detached itself and traveled to her brain,” the nurse explained calmly. “It appears she had a minor stroke. The baby is being delivered now, by C-section. When the baby is secure we’ll start working on Mrs. Quinn.”
“Are they…will they be okay?” Willow asked fearfully.
The nurse nodded. “The baby’s fine. Like I said, we’ll start work on Mrs. Quinn when the baby is safely delivered. I have to get back now, but I promised the father I’d let you know.” Cindy gave them a sad smile and ran back down the hall into the operating room.
“Holy Christ. Just like ‘er mum,” Spike muttered.
“She’s only 26,” Oz murmured.
The Scoobies helplessly watched the nurse go.
***
Angel watched as they cut into his wife and his heart screamed out in pain. Tears fought for release but he held them back, staring stoically as they removed his child…his child…a tiny, shrunken, pink and wrinkly baby… The umbilical cord was cut…they didn’t have time to offer him the opportunity, and the baby was quickly transferred to a waiting nurse who wrapped his child in a pink and blue print blanket.
“It’s a girl,” DeSilva told him, giving him a smile that was hidden by surgical mask but more than apparent in his eyes.
A moment later the baby gave a scream and Angel caught his breath. His daughter was here. Abby. Abby Quinn was here.
“You have to leave now, Angel. I’m sorry. We need to work on your wife,” DeSilva told him.
His eyes flew to Buffy’s still form. “I don’t want to leave.”
“You have to. I’m sorry. I promise, we’ll take good care of her,” the doctor said gently as a nurse tugged on him, pulling him to the door.
“We’ll come get in you a few minutes, so you can hold your daughter, okay?” she asked him softly.
He looked at her, not seeing, and nodded reluctantly. Joining his friends in the chairs he sat, burying his face in his hands.
***
“I’d like to be alone with her for a minute, okay?” Angel said quietly.
The group nodded. “Sure, we understand,” Willow told him and they exited the room, leaving the vampire with his Slayer. “We’ll be right outside, if you need anything,” she told him before closing the door.
Angel stood over the bed, staring at Buffy’s frail body, trying to block out the sound of her raspy, labored breathing, the clicking and humming of the machines that fought to keep her alive. But he found comfort in the noises because beyond all that was silence, and that was almost more than he could bear.
He sat in the chair next to her bed, leaning his elbows on the mattress, careful not to pull on any of the tubes or sensors attached to her body. Taking her hand in his he noticed how cold she was and pulled the blanket up around her, tucking her in. He stroked a lock of her blonde hair that fell around her shoulders then moved his hand up to her cheek, tracing the soft skin. Her skin was pale, her lips colorless, her eyes closed.
He didn’t know what to say to her…but he needed to tell her something, talk to her, make her hear him and come back to them. She had yet to see their child, the promised Triumphant, the daughter they both wanted to so badly. Their daughter had yet to be held by her mother, to know the love that would surely shine in those bright green eyes, to feel the warmth of her touch, the fierce protectiveness that would be in her arms.
“She’s beautiful, Buffy. You should see her…pretty dark hair, a whole head of it, thick, like yours. And green eyes…just a shade darker than yours, like they wanted to be brown but changed their mind at the last minute,” he whispered to her, struggling to keep his voice from breaking.
“She’s a whole day old now, Buffy. A whole day. And she wants her mom. She needs her mom. I need her mom…” he said, one tear streaming down his face, then another. He collected himself for a moment.
“Did I ever tell you that you have a thousand different expressions? You’re a horrible liar…your face gives you away every time. I can always tell what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, just by looking at your face…at your eyes, if they’re laughing or angry…at the way your mouth curves…And you have about four hundred smiles…one for every occasion. Little ones, reserved ones…the ones you give me when I’d worry about what kind of milk to buy you, or if I got the right brand of cereal, or big ones that you get when you answer the door and it’s one of our friends…that openness…”
Buffy’s breathing changed for a moment and he stopped, staring at her for a second before it resumed its raggedy rhythm again. “The first time I saw you I was hungry…for food, for companionship, for conversation…I didn’t know it, but I was. I saw you and the world changed for me. I suddenly wanted something out of my life…I wanted to be your friend, your lover, your confidante…just yours. And more than that, I wanted you to be mine. I’ve never in my life been so instantly possessive. I…longed for you. Inside, deep down, I desired you. More than just your body…I wanted that smile to be just for me…to know that I caused it…that I made you happy, or that I made you laugh.”
“And then I came to Sunnydale…I cleaned myself up and moved here…to help you. You were so young…fresh, starting out in life. You were already the Slayer, but you were still innocent. You hadn’t seen the worst life had to throw at you yet.” He chuckled at his next thought. “That first time we met, when you thought I was stalking you…which I guess I was…you knocked me down. God you were beautiful…all dressed up like you used to, tight pants and tighter shirts, hair all dark and done up…I stared up at you from the ground and I swore my heart actually beat.”
“When I left you…so you could have your own life, you have to know I didn’t want to…you have to know that I hated every day of my life then…and I’ve been grateful ever since then that the higher powers helped us find our way back to each other. Every day of my life in LA I thought about you. I spent my nights wondering what you were doing, what new experience you were going through, how your college classes were…if you were dating. I drove myself crazy, I’m sure Cordelia has a few things to say about it too.” He shifted in the seat, running a finger up and down her arm lazily.
“I’ve spent my life trying to atone for things, Buffy…trying to make myself worthy of something. I’ll never be deserving of you, I know that. And now I’m a father, something that a year ago wasn’t even in my vocabulary. I don’t deserve that either and I can’t do it without you. We’ve fought too long, too hard for you to go now. Over the years I watched you sleep…from your bedroom window or your dorm…or at my side. I’ve spent enough time watching you sleep, Buffy…wake up, hon. Please…for me…for our daughter…”
He buried his face in his hands, his body shaking as he sobbed at her bedside.
***
“Angel, get a cup of coffee. Get a shower. Anything,” Cordelia ordered him.
He stared at her blankly. “I don’t want to.”
“Yeah, well, you may not want to, but the rest of us do. You need to get out of this room, to see the sunlight. To walk around before you develop a blood clot from inactivity,” his friend told him.
He rolled his eyes but decided that she was, for once, right. Rising he stretched. “Five minutes. I’m leaving for five minutes.”
She smiled at him gently. “I’ll be here. Go check on your daughter, okay? Tell her aunt Cordy’s already bought her two new pairs of baby Jimmy Choo’s. Those are shoes since I know you don’t know,” she told him sweetly.
Running a hand through his hair he let out a ragged breath and walked out into the hall, by passing the coffee machine and heading for the elevator, taking it straight to the ninth floor, the maternity wing.
There, behind the glass, lying in her own little bassinet was his daughter, Abby. She was sleeping, eyes and nose scrunched up like she was fighting waking up…maybe she was dreaming of her mother, and she knew that if she awoke that was all she’d get for now. Angel signaled the nurse, who smiled, knowing of Buffy’s situation, and brought Abby around to the private visiting rooms. Placing her in Angel’s giant arms she smiled.
“She’s beautiful,” the nurse told him.
He smiled back because it lightened his heart. “She really is.”
Sitting down in the rocking chair he took a finger and gently ran it over his child’s face, stroking her tender skin, marveling at her ten tiny fingers.
A knock at the door revealed Willow, Oz, Xander, Anya, Faith and Spike. “Hey…can we come in?” Xander asked shyly.
Angel nodded, smiling. “Please…how did you…?”
“Oh, Gunn. He’s flirting with the nurse so we could sneak back here,” Willow explained. The group moved over to the chair and peeked at the tiny bundle in his arms. “Ooooh…” she whispered.
“She’s so small…” Faith murmured.
“She’s perfect, mate,” Spike said affectionately.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Faith told him, giving Angel a quick smile.
“Hi Abby,” Oz called.
“Pink and wrinkly. And with hair. Ours were bald as cueballs,” Anya told him. “Not anymore, of course.”
“She’s got Buffy’s nose,” Angel observed.
“Hopefully she’s got Buffy’s everything. We don’t need girls running around that look like you,” Xander quipped.
“And we don’t know what color her eyes will be yet…they might change…but right now they’re blue,” he said lovingly.
“Can I…can I hold her?” Willow asked nervously.
Angel looked up and grinned. “Sure. Here.” Gently he passed his child over to her. “Aunt Willow.”
The witch flushed excitedly. “Aunt Willow…”
“My kids call you that,” Xander pointed out.
“Yeah…but it’s still nice to hear…”
“She eats like a horse…I can’t figure out if that’s my appetite or Buffy’s,” Angel said.
“Buffy can pack it away, let me tell you. Don’t leave her alone with brownies. And if you ever--” Faith began.
“Angel…and company…” the nurse said disapprovingly, walking briskly into the room. “You’re needed downstairs.”
Angel glanced from the nurse to his friends and shot out of the chair. Halfway out the door he whirled. “You…do you have her?” he asked Willow.
She nodded. “Go!”
He flew down the nine floors of stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator. When he entered her hall Cordy sprang up from her chair. “I swear…I’m sorry I made you leave,” she stammered.
“What?!” he roared.
“They didn’t tell you?” Cordy gasped. “She’s…she’s…”
Angel didn’t wait for her answer. Storming into the room he through the door open, almost taking out a nurse. Pushing through the sea of medical personnel that the small room held he rushed to Buffy’s side.
“What’s going on?” he asked, panicked.
Buffy’s head, turned from him, slowly rolled towards him. “Hi,” she said sleepily.
His eyes flew open and his mouth dropped. He stared at her for a moment, then another, before taking her hand in his, kissing it, and letting the tears fall.
“Buffy…”
She smiled groggily. “Are you okay?”
He let out a short laugh and met her eyes. “Yeah…I’m fine. How are you? How is she?” he asked, turning to DeSilva.
“She appears to be fine. Recovery will take a bit, but she’ll be home soon. The clot is being taken care of with blood thinners…and we’ll keep her here for awhile for observation,” the kindly old man answered.
“I’m fine,” she repeated, eyes blinking slowly as she fought to stay awake.
“Buffy?” was his instant, worried response.
Her eyes fluttered open again. “Just tired…don’t worry. Tell me…the baby? They said it’s fine.”
He smiled, relieved. “We had a girl.”
She sighed contently and her eyes closed again. “A girl…Abby…I want to see her,” she whispered.
He chuckled because his wife was clearly not going to be awake in another minute. “Ok…I’ll get her…she’s been waiting for you to wake up.”
She smiled again before her steady breathing resumed and she was once again asleep.
Angel kissed her hand and whispered, “I love you,” before rising and grinning at the doctors.
“We’ve sent a nurse to get your daughter…perhaps you’d like to go tell your friends?” the doctor suggested.
For the first time in his life, Angel skipped as he went down the hall.